The Child

        The woman followed the trail, watching for anyone who might see her. The pain in her belly grew worse as the child inside kicked, ready to be born. Coming a small cottage she knocked on the door and waited, the pain growing stronger by the minute. The door opened and an old lady in a gray robe peered past her, searching the woods before letting her in.
        Motioning her to lie on the couch, she made some tea filled with herbs to ease the pain. Before the woman finished drinking the time came. The cup dropped from her hand spilling on the floor as she held her stomach doing her best to keep from crying out. The baby came easily and the old lady wrapped it in a blanket, the unusual red hair showing brightly.
        The child did not cry, she seemed to know her life was in danger. As the old lady handed her to her mother a knock sounded at the door. Three pairs of eyes turned to the sound. Fear shone in them all. The lady moved to the door and dropped the bar in place quietly. Moving a rug on the floor she revealed a trap door leading down into the earth. Helping the woman into it she returned the rug and lay on the couch as if asleep.
        The door broke upoen as the guards outside rammed it. Searching the cottage they found no one but the old lady. Down in the tunnel into which the trap door led the woman walked to safety carrying the child close. The tunnel woudl take them to a land where the red headed children were not feared and killed, to a land where celtic blood lived free.

For my mother, who loves all children.

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