Chapter 1: Prologue

Orla had known fear in her life, but never like this. It was all-consuming, a paralyzing feeling that made it difficult for her to even catch her breath. The weight of her clan’s fate rested solely on her shoulders, and it was a burden that felt almost too heavy to bear.

Despite the fear and the pain that wracked her body, Orla couldn’t help but smile as she caressed her swollen belly. She knew that the life of her unborn child was inextricably linked to the fate of her people, and she was willing to do whatever it took to ensure that both survived, even if that meant losing her life. That was how much she was willing to sacrifice for her people.

But as the labor pains grew more intense, Orla began to feel the weight of her years. She was no longer the young, strong woman she had once been and she feared she might not have the strength to push through this ordeal. Nevertheless, she was determined to do whatever it took to bring her child into the world.

Through the sweat and pain, Orla heard the distant sound of voices outside her tent. She recognized Tadhg’s voice, but there was an edge of anger and frustration in his tone that made her heart race.

"You will not go in there!" she heard Tadhg yell from outside the tent. Orla shifted on the makeshift bed making an attempt to go to him. If she didn’t, Tadhg would let his anger control him.

"The chief has ordered that Orla have the baby in his private chambers," a firm voice responded.

Tadhg’s voice was cold and uncompromising as he spoke, his words cutting through the tense air like a knife. Orla struggled to get up, her body heavy with the weight of her unborn child, but she was determined to stand by her husband’s side.

"And why on earth would I allow that? So, he can turn my unborn child into a breeding horse?" Tadhg’s words dripped with anger and resentment, and Orla couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride in her husband’s fierce protectiveness.

But even as she tried to gather her strength, a soft voice spoke up, trying to soothe the men’s anger. It was the voice of the chief’s wife, who had come to plead with Tadhg to comply with the chief’s wishes.

"We don’t know that it’s a girl, we can only hope," she said gently, trying to reason with them. Orla felt a wave of disgust wash over her. Had they no shame? No respect for the sanctity of life?

But Tadhg was having none of it.

"And it is that hope that drives you here, isn’t it?" he shouted, his voice ringing out through the small space. Orla could hear the sound of his sword being unsheathed, and she knew he was ready to defend his family at any cost.

She placed a shaky leg on the ground, struggling to get up, but she was too big for her frail bones.

As the chief’s wife tried to argue her case, Tadhg’s anger only grew.

"Tell the chief that he is not going anywhere near my wife," he warned, his voice filled with deadly intent. Orla could feel her heart pounding in her chest as she clung to the moldy wall, making her way outside.

"The chief said…" the other woman tried to protest.

But Tadhg was adamant.

"Get out!" he bellowed, his voice echoing off the walls of the tent.

"But…"

"GET OUT!!!!!!" Tadhg roared. And with that, the chief’s wife and the guard that accompanied her made a hasty retreat.

Orla scrambled away from the wall as she heard Tadhg’s heavy footsteps coming toward her. She didn’t want him to see how the confrontation had disturbed her.

However, before she could make her way back to the bed, Tadhg’s huge frame filled the tent, leaving little room for her to escape.

"What are you doing up, my love? You should be saving your strength. The midwife will soon be here," he said gently, the anger in his voice gone.

Orla turned to look at him sharply as he led her back to the bed.

"Midwife?" she asked. "We don’t have a midwife in Javeni." She looked up at him, but there was no response. Instead, he laid her down gently on the bed. "Tadhg?" she called.

"Eithra," he said simply, covering her up.

"The midwife is from Eithra?" she asked, confused. Eithra had no business with Javeni people. There had been no interaction between them for the past seventy years. So why now? "Why would they send a midwife to us? What did you do?" she voiced.

"I protected us," Tadhg grunted, his voice low and strained.

Orla looked up at him, confusion etched on her face. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.

"Didn’t you hear what happened outside?" Tadhg continued. "The baby hasn’t even been born yet and the chief is already making his move."

Orla shook her head, still unsure of what her husband was talking about. "All this fuss over nothing. We don’t even know if it’s a girl," she said, trying to calm him down.

"It is," he replied firmly.

"How are you so sure of that?" Orla asked, her brow furrowed with confusion.

"Because I made sure it’s a girl," Tadhg said, his voice filled with conviction.

"You’re not making sense, Tadhg. In fact, I would much rather it be a boy so all this… aghhh" she groaned in pain, clutching her stomach.

Tadhg was by her side in an instant, taking her hand and squeezing it gently. "Save your strength, there’s no need to discuss this now," he said softly.

"What if the chief comes back?" Orla protested weakly.

"Cairo and Ramses are outside," he assured her. "I will not leave your side, my love."

"I do not want them in between this petty quarrel between us and the chief. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if my children were hurt while trying to protect me," Orla said.

But before Tadhg could reassure her, the room darkened, as a plump figure entered the tent, carrying a brown shepherd’s bag. "Is she ready?" the woman asked, her voice brisk and business-like.

Tadhg stood up immediately. "She is," he replied.

"Good," the woman nodded. "We best begin now. We must hurry, the King is growing impatient."

"What about our agreement?" Tadhg asked, his voice tense.

Orla eyed them in suspicion. What was going on?

"The King has promised that as long as it is a female child, her hand would belong to the prince," the midwife explained.

"And if not?"

"The King does not have any princesses, sir. For now, let us see what the heavens have in store for your family," she replied cryptically.

Orla’s attention was diverted when her eldest son, Cairo's angry voice traveled into the tent. "What are you doing back here?"

"The chief has ordered the arrest of Tadhg Agnew," the firm voice from before declared.

"You will do no such thing," Ramses, Orla’s second son retorted fiercely.

"The chief is willing to spare you and your family if Tadhg surrenders himself."

Tadhg smiled softly at Orla, pushing hair away from her face. "I’ll be back, Jewel."

"No, don’t go," she protested, clutching his hand tightly.

But she was too weak, now more than ever, and she had the sinking feeling that if she didn’t hold on to him now, she would lose him forever. He pulled his hand away from hers, kissing her on the forehead as she begged him to stay with her.

Tadhg turned to the midwife before making his way out of the tent. "Make sure the baby comes out safely," he said with urgency.

Orla screamed his name, but the force of the labor pains pushed her back on the bed. Her heart raced with fear and anticipation; she couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was about to happen.

The sound of steel clashing against steel echoed in the distance, intensifying all the feelings she had at that moment.

The midwife acted quickly, taking out her tools and kneeling by Orla’s side, holding her hand through the agonizing moment. Finally, the room was filled with the sound of a newborn’s cries, and tears streamed down their faces.

Then suddenly, a sharp scream pierced the air, followed by the sickening sound of a sword being driven into flesh.

Orla’s heart froze, her eyes widening in horror as she realized what was happening. She tried to get up from the birthing bed, but the midwife gently, yet firmly, pushed her back down.

"Stay here, my dear. Let me see what is happening," the midwife said, grabbing a nearby blanket and wrapping it around her shoulders. She then made her way to the entrance of the tent.

Orla held her breath as she listened to the sounds outside. The clash of weapons had ceased, but there was still shouting and the sound of footsteps running away. Suddenly, the midwife burst back into the tent, her face pale and her eyes wide with fear.

"Quickly, we must leave this place. Eithra will give you shelter until your chief settles down," she said, her voice urgent.

Orla felt a chill run down her spine. She couldn’t leave, not when she had just given birth. But the midwife was insistent, and before she knew it, she was being lifted up and carried out of the tent, her newborn daughter clutched tightly to her chest.

The sight that greeted her was worse than anything she could have imagined. So bad that she didn’t notice her sons fighting off the guards.

Tadhg lay on the ground, surrounded by a pool of blood. His eyes were closed, and his chest barely moved with each shallow breath.

Orla’s heart sank at the sight. The midwife set her down gently on a nearby rock, where she could get a better look at her husband’s injuries. He was stabbed multiple times, and blood seeped out of his wounds, staining his clothes and the ground around him.

She felt a sob rise up in her throat. She couldn’t lose him, not after all that they had been through together. She clutched her daughter tightly, as if the act alone could keep them safe. The midwife set to work, trying to staunch the bleeding and keep Tadhg alive.

Orla could only watch helplessly, barely felt the comforting hand Cairo and Ramses placed on her shoulders. She looked around, there were no guards in sight. They had disappeared after destroying her family.

Tadhg’s eyes opened after a few minutes, his eyes locking with Orla’s. "You did it, Jewel; you have saved our people."

"No, don’t leave me, Tadhg," she pleaded, crawling to him.

"Never. I’m always with you," he said. And then with one final gasp, he was gone.

Orla let out a cry of anguish. Her daughter, sensing her mother’s distress, let out a soft whimper, causing the midwife to take her from Orla’s arms.

Orla clutched Tadhg’s body, not willing to let go. She had been willing to sacrifice her life for this child, but she never knew the cost would be the life of the man she loved.