The First King Part 10

Kish paced outside the tent. He could hear his wife's cries and the murmuring voice of her mother and the midwife over the soft sighing of the wind through the trees. Every time his wife would moan or cry out, he would involuntarily step towards the tent, but then stop. He looked over at his father, Ner, who was watching him with a knowing expression.

"How do you stand it, Father? Does it get any easier the second time? I cannot bear standing by helpless while my wife suffers."

His old father looked at him for a while solemnly, then his face creased into the smile that was so well known and loved by the family. "It never gets easier, my boy. But it usually gets shorter. Or you can go do something productive instead of pacing a trench into the ground."

"Leave? Leave while my wife suffers? Leave my bride on death's door? I think not, Father. Maybe your mind is slipping in your dotage."

Before Ner could reply they heard a final, drawn out scream, then a new sound. A high pitched sound that announced that there was a new leaf on this branch of the family. The flap was shoved aside and the midwife emerged, carrying a bundle that was emitting that sound. She crossed to Kish and held out the bundle.

"Your son, my lord."

"My son?"

"Yes, lord. Your son."

Kish took the baby from her arms and looked down into his face. He had a head full of black hair, and his dark eyes looked up at his father like he knew him. The boy was still as he looked up, his eyes not leaving his father's face. A small hand grasped his finger and squeezed.

Kish smiled, "Welcome to the world, little Saul."