The labor lasted far longer than Dark Star had remembered with her other children. And the pain…
"One last push," her mother-in-law encouraged her that the end, at last, was in sight.
Within moments the lusty cry of a newborn's protest filled the longhouse bringing smiles to the women surrounding the squirming chief's heir.
"Ah, a boy," Small Bird grinned, kissing her grandson's pudgy cheek. "My son will be pleased."
At that moment Chief Long Knife entered the lodge, his eyes glowing with unmistakable pride.
"Thank you," he murmured, sending his wife a look that spoke volumes.
Dark Star's heart fluttered as she watched her husband reach for their squalling son.
The baby would not have received his name yet according to Wyandotte tradition until his ears had been pierced, but he was not Wyandotte. The child in his arms was Mohawk- the eternal enemy of his people.