The Baby in the Basket

A couple of years before the oldest olden days, there was a poor miserable drunk, who used his wife for a punching bag and would drink himself blind so frequently, he never really paid attention to exactly how many children he had. Unfortunately for everyone, he had a quite a few more than most.

His wife, who once had been beautiful, was a weak but kindly creature couldn't bear to see so many of her children suffering under the terrible influence of their father. So every once in a while she would try to liberate a few of the smaller children who still showed promise, by sending one or two at a time down the river in a basket.

She prayed that the crocodiles lurking in the river would prove better guardians than the children's slovenly father. Granted, more than a few of the drunkard's seed were gobbled up whole.

Nevertheless, every so often, a wily young river rat would conquer the river and get himself adopted by some powerful family of the time. When these survivors grew to become powerful men and women themselves, they got together and formed a formidable army to liberate the remainder of their long-suffering siblings from the grasp of their tyrannical father, who was more than likely still too drunk to recognize his own children.