Chapter II

Gnash strode into the woods, clutching the small bundle in his arms almost protectively. They would not have it. He would not share it. It was his. This babe's sweet and tender flesh would make a fine meal indeed. He was salivating in anticipation. When their troop of Orcs had stumbled upon the traveling Elves, Gnash had considered it an unbelievably good turn of fortune. How he despised those beings! At least he would make a delectable meal of one of their precious young.

Just then he heard a bark from behind. It was that bully Sludge. If he caught wind of what Gnash was hiding he'd kill him to eat the babe himself. Best hide it somewhere and distract that clumsy Sludge until he could be alone with his morsel. Oh, how he would enjoy it!

"What do you have there, Gnash?!"

Too late. Sludge had already spied that he had something. If Gnash was clever enough, he might be able to… yes, that was it. He'd pretend to fall and leave the babe behind while taking the youngling's blanket with him into the woods as a decoy. Sludge would surely follow him and as soon as he was rid of sludge, well, he'd just go back to the child and finally have his feast.

For a beast as clumsy as he, Gnash executed his plan with surprising precision. Pretending to stumble behind a bush, Gnash let the baby go, snatching instead the child's blanket before racing off into the woods, Sludge bellowing and chasing him the whole time.

The young prince, not yet able to walk and beginning to feel the damp cold without his blanket, began to cry. Little did the child know, there was no one to hear.

For hours he laid alone, the heat slowly draining from his small body. Eventually, with the changing day, the sun found its way through the thick trees and lighted upon the little form, offering weak warmth.

Svanhild and her four fellow priestesses picked berries as quickly as they could. There were Orcs in these woods and they certainly didn't want to get caught by them. With all of the weeping women fleeing to the priestesses' temple these days they needed more food than they had; otherwise they would not have normally ventured so far into the forest. They spoke in mere whispers and picked rapidly, always keeping an ear out for an approaching enemy.

It was then that she thought she heard a child's laugh. Impossible. There hadn't been children in this part of the fallen kingdom in over a year – Herod had made sure of that. Then there is was again, and this time one of her companions stopped picking and listened as well.

"Did you hear that?" Wealtheow asked.

Without answering, Svanhild dropped her basket and gathered up her gowns and cloak, running towards the source of the sound. The others looked up, alarmed. "What is it?" one of the now wide-eyed priestesses asked.

"A child," Wealtheow breathlessly replied, a light flickering in her eyes before following her fellow priestess further into the woods. The other two stared at each other for a moment before setting down their baskets, looking about cautiously and then following stealthily after Wealtheow and Svanhild, their dark green hooded cloaks billowing out slightly behind them.

When Svanhild arrived in a small glen she clasped a hand over her mouth as she froze, for there in the distance, nestled in the pale shafts of sunlight and wriggling around playfully was a healthy baby.

The other three caught up and flanked Svanhild, each not believing what she looked upon. Finally, Wealtheow cocked her head, her breath and voice shaky as she spoke in amazement. "What baby is that, sweet golden hair?"

The others continued to stare. Svanhild shook off her surprise and a wise smile graced her kind face. She stepped forward, tentative at first as if fearing a trap of some sort. When she was close enough she locked gazes with the baby for a moment and did not notice the tears of wonder that came to her eyes. A more beautiful child she had never seen. It was true that the sight of any baby so young was welcome in these dark days of child-death, but she could have sworn that she saw the baby smile back at her. as it kicked its feet in excitement.

Carefully, she scooped the diaper-clad infant in her arms, laughing silently as he immediately reacted to her presence by grabbing a hold of her gowns with tiny fists. How long had the child been out here on its own? But there was something oddly ancient about this child; some greater wisdom glowed inside. Gently brushing back the babe's fluffy blond hair she revealed a slightly pointed ear. She should have known from those eyes that this was no human babe… She then turned to the others, a heartfelt smile upon her face. "Sisters, this be an Elven child, a gift from the spirits of the woods just as the Elves were a gift toArda of old."

While the other two came forward and crowded around to see the beautiful baby themselves, Ranveig stayed off to the side by herself. After some time had passed she spoke. "We must leave it here."

The other priestesses gave her perfectly horrified glances.

"You know well of what I speak." When the others did not respond she pulled back her cloak hood to reveal her cropped hair. "I know well of what I speak. My child was one of the first slain. Do you wish the same fate upon one not even of our kingdom?"

"Ranveig, if this babe is not from our kingdom then our laws cannot possibly apply to it," Svanhild was smiling as the young prince held one of her fingers in his tiny grasp and the other two priestesses giggled quietly at the youngling's playfulness.

"Regardless of where he's from he's in our kingdom now. If he is discovered he shall be slain like the others… like my son."

Svanhild looked up, her face now fierce. "That is a man's law. Herod has no sway with us. We are daughters of the forests and river valleys. We follow a more ancient law, one laid before us by the gods of old when Elves like this child still graced these forests. We follow the code of the land."

"But Herod is king and he has ordered all children slain. The gods may help us in the next life but certainly not in this. In this life the word of the king is the word of the gods."

"Herod's laws do not take precedence over the sacred, Ranveig. You know this. Children should never be harmed- any fool could tell you that. They are a gift from the heavens themselves. Herod only has power so long as you let him for in the end his words are just words and he knows it. We hold the power; we are the people that hold him up upon his throne. Without his people he shall fall. He only rules over us so long as we consent to it.

Herod is not my king. I answer only to the will of the gods and they have laid this path before me."

Ranveig took a deep breath and looked away, unable to hold Svanhild's gaze any longer. She saw the truth in her fellow priestess' words, and the wisdom. Yet it was not enough to erase her upbringing under a tyrant, though he be the reason her hair was cropped short in mourning. Truth be told, she had only come to the temple a year and a half ago after Herod's men had burst into her home in search of her child, killing her protesting husband in the process then eventually slaying her yearling son. Her story was just one of hundreds. With nowhere to go and no one to turn to she had fled into the woods seeking refuge with the temple priestesses like so many other women.

The babe in Svanhild's arms sneezed, drawing Ranveig's attention. Looking back over to Ranveig, Svanhild stepped forward. As soon as Ranveig saw what Svanhild was doing her eyes widened- she was placing the baby in her arms!

"Shhh, there, there," Svanhild soothed as the now sleepy child began to fuss as he was placed into Ranveig's somewhat stiff arms. It was all she needed, though, to look into that bright baby's eyes to melt her heart. She immediately relaxed and felt tears of remembrance begin to form in her eyes. "I only meant it for the child's own good…"

Svanhild looked at her wisely. "I know."

Ranveig smiled as the baby made a gurgling sound and took hold of her offered finger. Her words were almost inaudible, spoken only to herself. "My Faste used to do that…" She gazed at the princeling in her arms a few moments more before shaking out of a dream and looking back to the other priestesses. "What will we do with an Elven child? I'm sure a babe as young as this will have many out searching."

"The Elves are skilled people of the woods. They will find our dwelling by following our tracks from this place. Until then we must care for it as our own. Mayhaps it was meant for us. The gods work in mysterious ways, after all."

Returning to the berry bushes and wrapping the now grumpy baby in her cloak, Svanhild and the other women gathered up their baskets and began their silent trek home.

Ozzzzzzz⌠∑::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Svanhild is a Norse female name meaning "swan, warrior"

Ranveig is a Norse female name meaning "house-woman"

Wealtheow, of course, if the name of Hrothgar's queen in the Scandinavian epic Beowulf.

Faste is a Norse male name meaning "firm."

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Review Responses:

Luntetuurewen: Thanks for your review, sweetie! Here I am updating one day after my first post (this is a big deal to me, LOL!) so I hope it's fast enough for you. Thanks so much for being the first to review! :oD

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Pris: How are you my dear? Thank you so much for the lovely review! I hope you enjoy this next chapter. Sorry the last was so short! Be sure to review to tell me what you think if the story now with this new chapter! Thanks again, sweetie! :oD