Before you read:
This is a first draft. (meaning entirely unedited except for spelling and grammar)
Someday, I will edit it.

I know what flaws there are... and there are a lot.
Thanks for pointing them out if you do, but I most likely already know what you're telling me...
because quite a few people have undertaken to tell me the flaws.

The edited version will probably focus more on the war and action that I was able to spit out in this version.
It's not that I don't like the romance aspect, but I want it to be more than just another romance story.

I hope you'll forgive my errors and enjoy it despite them.

My Beloved

Prologue
The End of the 5th Centry A.D., Equos*, month of horse-time, Britain.

The woman dragged herself along the rough ground, clutching the baby to her chest. Dead bodies were strewn across the once tidy camp, leaking their life-blood onto the bright green grass and staining it. Tents flapped in the wind, some burning, and the stench of blood and fire mingled in the air.

"Come, milady, we must get hidden before they attack again!" The maid helped her mistress stand and together they made their way towards a wagon.

"Here, take him!" The woman gasped, pushing the baby into the maid's arms. Drumming hoof beats sounded. "They are coming. Go!" She shoved the maid one last time and fell to the ground.

"No!" The maid tried to pull the woman up, but she was pushed away.

"Go! Save my son!" The woman screamed. The maid snapped her body around, tears streaming down her face, and ran to the upturned wagon, huddling under it moments before the camp erupted with action. Horses pounded over the ground, men yelled, and blood splattered. The ugly battle lasted only moments, and the horsemen had conquered the camp. They looted the unburned tents and herded the survivors into a group, killing the strong men and anyone who would not bow in submission.

The maid still huddled undiscovered beneath the cart, her heart pounding and the baby in her arms sleeping in strange peace. She stared at the baby's mother, only a few yards away, and finally made her way through the mess of death and wreckage, almost crawling to remain unseen.

"Milady?" She touched the woman tentatively. The woman turned her head, barely breathing. She was near death, her chest and arm a mass of crushed flesh. She moved her lips in a painful whisper.

"Teach him the ways of his rightful people. " The maid was jerked away. And with one last look towards her precious son, the woman stilled and ceased to breathe.

*Equos, in the Celtic year, was June/July.