The Sins of the Father

Chapter One

Nativity

". . . For I the LORD thy God am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generation of them that hate me." —Exodus 20:5

The wind howled viciously in the darkness of January, the already frigid temperatures now bitterly, inhumanly cold. In weather such as this, no man should have been outside; to attempt to travel in these conditions was to invite one's own death.

Such facts did not stop one man. Wrapped tightly in the thickest furs he could acquire, he and his wife forced themselves through the biting wind, the knee-deep snow, desperately searching for shelter from the elements. The woman let out a scream of agony, her body contorting as the pain washed over her. Her already-terrified husband now began to panic. Desperately, he pressed onwards, forcing himself toward the dim lights just yards ahead.

Reaching the tall gates of the kingdom of Arendelle, he pounded on the door. No response. Unwilling to accept their silence, he brought his fists into the gate over and over again, refusing to stop until, finally, mercifully, the small window in the door opened. A man—a guard—pressed his eyes to the window.

"Who are you?" the guard asked. "What the hell are you doing outside in this storm? Are you trying to kill yourself?"

"Please," the man begged, struggling to communicate in the guard's language. "My wife . . . she is . . . about to be delivered. Please . . . shelter . . . medicine . . . heat! I can pay . . ."

The guard stared incredulously at the man and his wife. His brow furrowed as he recognized the man's unique accent. "You . . . You're one of them! One of the ice bærers! A Wanderer!"

The guard frowned. "You know I cannot let you pass. I will lose my position if I am caught. I could even end up in the palace dungeon! I'm sorry. There's nothing I can do."

The woman let out another shriek of agony. Her husband turned to the guard, his eyes wild with desperation. "Please! I beg you! If you are a man . . . please . . . do not let my wife . . . my child die."

The guard stepped backward, his mind reeling with conflicting commands. Finally, he whispered, "Absolute silence! Understand?"

The man nodded. The guard closed the window and a moment later the gates of Arendelle opened. The guard appeared. "This way!" he hissed. "Quietly!"

The two Wanderers followed the guard, careful to avoid making any sound that could alert the sleeping kingdom to their presence. The guard led them to a small house on the edge of the city. Knocking twice, he opened the door.

His wife awoke with a start. "What . . . What are you doing home?" she asked, her voice full of concern. "What's wrong? Did you lose your position?"

"No, dearest," the guard said. "Nothing of that kind. We have . . . guests."

"At this hour?" his wife asked, unbelieving. "Who in the world . . .?"

Her voice caught in her throat when she saw the man and his wife. One look at the woman's face told her the entire story. "Get her to the bed. Boil some water. Fetch the towels. Hurry!"

The guard set about quickly procuring the necessary supplies. The Wanderer helped his wife to the bed, his face lined with worry. Her turned to the guard's wife. "Are you . . . Are you . . .?"

"Yes, I am," she answered. "I have done this many, many times." The guard handed her the towels she had requested.

"The water is heating as we speak," he said.

"Good. Why don't the two of you go to the other room? This here is women's work."

"No!" the Wanderer said, more forcefully than he had intended. His face flushed with embarrassment. "I'm sorry. It's just . . . I will not leave my wife."

"If that is what you wish." She took a towel, soaking it in the warm water over the fire. "Here. Lay this across her head. It will help her to relax."

The Wanderer did as she asked. His wife looked at him with terrified, pleading eyes. "Deteralti orden, Kjære," he whispered, brushing the hair from her face. "Jeg erhermeddeg."

His wife suddenly unleashed an ear-piercing cry, her body lurching in agony. "What is wrong?" the Wanderer cried. "What's happening?"

The guard's wife looked under the blankets, her face grim as her fears were confirmed. "She needs to push. Now! If she doesn't, we will lose the baby and possibly her as well."

The Wanderer turned to his wife, nodding. "Nå, kjære."

His wife nodded, closing her eyes in concentration. Screaming, she forced her muscles into action, willing the child in her womb to come forth.

"Good," the guard's wife said. "Again! Harder this time."

Another push, another bone-chilling sceram.

The Wanderer looked at the guard's wife, his face paling when he saw the amount of blood she had gathered on the towels. "What is it?"

"It's nothing!" she cried. "Keep pushing! I can see the head!"

With one last terrible cry, the woman forced every muscle in her body toward a single purpose: safely expelling her child.

Silence descended upon the small house. Then, suddenly, a tiny scream was heard, growing louder and stronger by the second.

The guard's wife smiled. "It's all right," she whispered. Gently, with an experienced hand, she wiped the newborn clean, then wrapped it in a blanket. Carefully, she handed him to the Wanderer. "Congratulations," she said. "Meet your son."

My son! The Wanderer gazed upon his child, tears flowing from his eyes. He brought the crying boy to his mother, allowing her to cradle her infant to her breast. He is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen!

The guard's wife approached the Wanderer, pulling him aside. Whispering, she spoke. "Your wife needs to rest here for several days. She has lost quite a bit of blood. I have done what I can to stop the bleeding."

"Is she . . . Will she . . .?" The man's face turned pale, his eyes full of terror.

"I don't believe she will," the woman said. "She is strong, and I believe I have stopped the flow in time. Nevertheless, you will need to remain here until she is healthy enough to move again."

"We . . . We cannot stay here," the man protested. "We are outcasts, unwanted. If we are discovered . . . If you are discovered harboring us . . ."

The guard approached. "We will not permit you to leave until it is safe," he said. "Despite what you may have heard, not all in Arendelle despise your race. We are willing to take that chance because . . . because it is what the Lord would have us do."

Tears flowed once more from the Wanderer's face. "I . . . I do not know what to say! Please!" He reached for the pouch at his belt, withdrawing numerous coins. "Please! Take what you want!"

The guard shook his head. "We most certainly will not. You will need that money to care for your son. This is our gift to you. Please accept it."

Astounded by the couple's generosity, the Wanderer returned to the bed. His wife and child had both fallen asleep, exhausted by the day's activity. Gently, he reached down and kissed both of them, ensuring they were both adequately covered and warm.

"What will you name him?" the guard's wife asked.

The Wanderer turned to them. "We have talked about this for some time. We . . . We want our son to have a name that shows his strength, his courage. I look at him and I . . . I can sense he is destined to be great among our people."

She smiled. "So, what is it?"

The Wanderer turned away, stroking his sleeping son's hair. "His name is Isarn."

AN: I knew I couldn't stay away for long. Please read and review. If you haven't read either Voices or The Head That Wears the Crown, I strongly suggest you do so first so you are not confused. Thank you and more to follow!