At the Edge of the Forest

The hearth fire glowed brightly. The shadows of its warm flames flickered and danced off the walls of the room in which Kendra lay.

The birthing pains were coming quicker. Her long, thick auburn hair was matted with sweat as she strained against the contractions. Once they subsided, she was grateful for a few moments of rest and sunk into the soft pillows of her bed.

Kendra looked up at the ceiling and thought of her life before this moment. Her life had been hard. She wasn’t sure she would be a good mother: working the farm, soldiering, always on the lookout for the next raiding party. This was no place to bring up a newborn babe.

Physically, she was fit and strong but emotionally? Life had hardened her in many ways. She rolled her eyes as another contraction surged within her. It soon passed. She slowly closed her eyes grateful once again for momentary relief from the pain.

Long ago Kendra decided she would be the best possible mother she could be to this child who was about to enter a dark and dangerous world. The Foreign invaders were always a threat. At this moment the territory she lived in, which was South Wessex, was relatively safe but they had completely taken over Northumbria in Northern England. Lately, their attacks had come closer to the forests edge but, they hadn’t ventured into the depths of their forest lands. The Foreigners were wary of this territory because they had heard of fierce warriors who protected it. The forest was dense and thick. Only the Forest People who lived there knew its ways.

The Forest People lived in quiet seclusion. Although they were a proud, strong people, they never came into the village. They believed it was their duty to protect the villages of South Wessex, but they chose to remain unseen. Every day, they scouted the outer rim of the forest. Their eyes sharp as the hawk, their bows poised and ready: relentlessly watching the Northern territory.

How could she raise a child in such times? As for the father of the child. No one would ever know. She was fortunate in this way because of her social standing within her community, no one dared ask.

The midwives hurried about the room gathering clean sheets and warm water in preparation for the baby’s arrival. One of the women placed a bowl of clean water next to her on the bed. Her hands resting patiently on its wooden rim; watching and waiting.

They gave Kendra the signal and she began to push with all her strength. Kendra wanted to stop, she wanted it to be over, she wanted to scream but the women urged her on. Utterly exhausted, Kendra flounced back onto the bed as she felt a warm gush flood through her pelvis and out onto the bed.

She heard it! The baby was crying! The midwives smiled and cooed over the little one as they handed her to Kendra’s outstretched arms. A girl! Kendra starred into her tiny face and placed one of her fingers into her daughter’s tiny hand. She smiled at the baby’s button nose and the bright red patch of hair on top of her head!

With her baby in her arms, Kendra’s worries soon vanished. She no longer wondered if she would be a good mother. She vowed to do everything in her power to protect this child from the world she was born into. She held the baby in her arms and decided to call her Kira.

She planned to raise Kira as she was raised and as her mother and grandmother. They were a strong line of women. Independent and brave. Her family had counselled the village for generations. Someday, Kira would do the same. She nuzzled baby Kira and a great bond was formed instantaneously.