He was beautiful, perfect, ten toes, ten fingers, and strong. Holding him made her forget for just a brief moment the danger lurking in the woods around her home. The men discussed even now how the tribe should handle it.

Ultimately, her husband would follow the chief’s decision, because they share a mother. If she disobeyed her husband, he’d disown her. She’d be shunned. Her family would be shamed if they helped her.

She heard a wail. Pulling the door ajar she spied a woman in great distress, her children huddled near, crying, her husband had a comforting hand on her head as he commanded the oldest child to get something from the home.

So the chief had said to surrender. Fire ran through her veins. She looked at her babe, sleeping peacefully in her arms. Then a gunshot rent the air.

Screams. Her tribe fell to their knees, were yanked up and forced to march before soldiers on horseback in royal blue. Her heart raced.

No.

She would run, hide! The icy river behind her home was the only escape.