They died in the raid. Swords flew through the air like wasps on summer days. For the child, who lay in a crib listening, the screams of the innocent were burned into his memory. He began to cry along with them. A woman, one who shared his flesh and blood, tried to silence him. She tried to calm him and quiet him, but it was no use. Two men entered the room, one trying to push the other away. The first, his father, protected the two by holding his hands out in a useless plea for life, the second held a sword in his right hand.