Morning Diamond

By Lydia Caatt

Lord Leishmann will stop at nothing to become ruler over Danyon. This includes destroying every man, woman, and child that opposes him. His destructive pursuit forces one man to stand against him. After years of protecting his people Clad must now face his foe knowing he may never again see his family or the face of his first born child.

His infant daughter, Claire, is quickly sent to another world to hide her from Leishmann in hopes that she can one day return to save her people. Eighteen years later her simple life is turned upside down when Leishamnn’s army finds her. She must now escape them and return to a world she thought was a fairy tale. Claire’s new life is filled with betrayals she never thought possible, danger around every corner, and a newly discovered strength that will hopefully lead her to fulfill a prophecy that is now part of her future.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lydia Caatt
• Release date: Aug 28, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463061053

Lydia Caatt

I grew up in your typical small town. I was raised in a trailer outside of town where I learned that hard work and service were major keys to our family of nine. I spent most of my childhood on the back of a horse, milking cows, and finding trouble. My family was quite dysfunctional and filled with heart aches and hard times, but we also learned to love.During my childhood, story telling was the one thing I could rely on to help me escape the harsh life. Often times I was considered creative and a bit eccentric by my school teachers.When I married my first husband he banished my story telling ways. If I could not read it from a book it was considered a lie and thus I was banned from telling my children stories. After years of abuse at his hands I made an escape and rediscovered my love for storytelling. It was often the only way to keep my young children from fighting on long trips. When I remarried, my new husband adored the stories.Several years ago I was told that I would need a brain surgery. The doctor was honest and told me that he could not guarantee my life could be saved or that if I did live that I would ever walk again. His one guarantee was that if I did not have surgery both would be part of my near future.As a way of coping with the upcoming surgery I started writing one last story for my young children. Morning Diamond became my first ever written novel. After surviving surgery I shared my story with a few people who encouraged me to publish.I am now working on editing book two, Sunset rubies, and book three, Midnight Coal. I have two additional trilogies written and awaiting attention to prep them for publishing as well. I hope you enjoy my stories as much as those who have read it before you. Thank you

Book preview

Morning Diamond

Morning Diamond

Fight for Danyon Book 1

Lydia Caatt

Morning Diamond

Copyright © 2018

All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Book and Cover design by Jeremy Brack, 2018

[e-mail]

Book Formatting by Derek Murphy @ Creativindie

ISBN : 9781982962951

First Edition: June 2018

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Contents

Intro

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Acknowledgement

About the Author

Sunset Rubies- Intro to Book two

Acknowledgement

I would like to send out a huge thank you to those who helped make this book possible. Thank you to my Children because without you I never would have written this book. Thank you to my Husband for his support, love, and encouragement. Thank you to April, Katie, and Kit for reading, making suggestions, and encouraging me to publish this story. Thank you to Nathan Bishop for publishing help and advice. Also, Thank you Dr Reishmann- my brain surgeon- for helping me to find the ambition and motivation to write my first novel.

Intro

He closed his eyes, attempting to focus on anything other than the thunderous pounding. With each thump, his mind raged with unquenchable fear. Panic boiled inside him, building and overwhelming his senses. How he wished he could escape it. How he begged his eardrums to explode so he would not hear the deafening, rhythmic beating that clouded his mind. Tension built. Never before had he experienced the torturous sound of dread. He shook his head violently. Nothing could be louder than the sound of his own heartbeat drumming in his chest as anxiety swelled inside him.

A piercing scream cut through the air and forced him to cover his ears. He stood corrected.

I can’t stand here and listen anymore. There has to be something we can do. Another agonized shriek ripped through the village, vibrating off the trees and echoing down the valley. Animals hiding in the shadows, fearing the tormented cries, scattered to find refuge deeper in the forest. Birds perched high in their nests exploded from the treetops in fright, flapping wildly in the sky until settling on the branches once more. She’s dying, he whispered- hanging his head in defeat.

Be patient child. Clad looked down at the small thin cloth the old woman offered as though it had fangs. She waved the rag before him and after a pause he accepted it and wiped the sweat from his brow. People have been having youngins for thousands of years. The babe will come in time and your wife will be just fine, Marcel attempted to convince him, even as she tried to assure herself. She felt just as uneasy as the man pacing before her.

Clad’s wife had been birthing for almost twenty four hours and the labor was not progressing. Something felt terribly wrong and the chances of survival grew slim with every passing hour. Marcel studied the thick black paste in her bowl and stirred it with renewed vigor.

What’ll you call the babe? She attempted to coax idle conversation--for her sake as much as his-- while she mixed her thick healing potions. It may have worked, but another scream pulled him deeper into his distress. She raised dark eyes to meet his suffering hazels. Clad? The name? She encouraged, gently.

We haven’t decided. He sighed, letting thick shoulders slump in despair. He turned from her penetrating, knowing, gaze and looked up at his settlement. The sun was beginning to rise, casting slight shadows. His eyes closed as he searched his mind for a distraction.

He could picture the view of the valley from his hut on the other side of the village. The dew resting on the grass blades would catch the rays of the morning sun giving the illusion of diamonds sparkling over the basin. The sun would kiss the tips of the newly budding flowers. A light breeze- softly caressing the earth- will carry its fresh sent to the villagers above. Today would be a beautiful day, if not for—he shook his head, attempting to block the rest of that thought.

Clad’s village sat on top of a secluded collection of cliffs, high above the valley floor. The small wooden huts embraced the protection of the forest behind them, even as they hid from the dangers below. Clad’s shack sat at the farthest edge of the village, resting at the cliff’s rim. He briefly wondered, as he had many times, if the village was safe enough. He sighed and opened his eye to the scene before him.

Several women sat in small circles, their backs straight as they kneaded thick dough. Several mounds sat beside them, rising in the morning air. His mouth should water in anticipation of the fresh rolls, but he lacked the appetite needed to appreciate their worth.

Men worked tirelessly, mending small shacks, chopping wood, or carrying large buckets of water for the women to use. Their clothes, worn and patched, hung from their bodies. Years of emotional and physical strain radiated off their tense, shoulders.

A young child emerged from the dark forest with a basket of berries. Her dress, mended together with several scraps of material, clung to her. It was too small, but clean. He watched her walk, her eyes alert and reflecting the hardships she had faced in her short life. She carried her berries to her mother, picked up a ratted sock doll and disappeared around the corner to play silently. Everyone was silent.

The village lacked childish laughter and gaiety. He hung his head in regret for the childhood each of the children had been denied.

The village itself was small. Four larger shacks held groups of widows and their children. Six slightly smaller huts housed his soldiers; men who were forced into the title. His hut was one of the few that housed a single family and the only one standing by the cliff’s edge. With luck he could use the position of his home to save what remained of his people.

There were not many left now, many had been murdered, others had fled to another part of the country. He thought, with sorrow, about the eighteen women and twelve children in his protection. He should have sent them someplace safer, but where could they find safety in times like these? Another scream sent chills down his spine and brought him back to the present.

His fists flew to his temples, pressing against his head. It did no good; the feelings of helplessness would not be subdued. He refocused on his men, hoping to distract himself from his turmoil.

He trained forty warriors daily for a battle they knew would find them here. They were the few left to stand against the power of a most treacherous villain. The others had already fled, unable to continue fighting the seemingly fruitless war that had cost him one family, but gained him another. His gaze again swept over the camp.

Clad looked at the tattered clothing draping the tense shoulders of the women and children. How he longed to rewind time; to go back to his youth and relish the joys and happiness of his people. Those were joyous times when his greatest worry had been finding the perfect bride. His eyes clouded as memories played the never ending scenes of his past.

Chapter 1

Clad smiled as he watched her.  Arianna.  Her name tickled the tip of his tongue, begging to be released so the sound could caress his ears.  She was everything he had ever dreamed of small, feminine, and beautiful.  Her long blonde hair streamed down her back in soft curls.  She wore a plain green dress that danced across the powdered earth as she moved.  The color brought out the remarkable shade in her gentle green eyes.  Her pink lips curved to reveal beautiful teeth, slightly crooked.  She hung on her father’s arms as he led her forward.  

Clad’s spirit soared when they paused before him and Arianna’s father placed her delicate hand in Clads large callused ones.  Love shone in her eyes and his reflected the same look of adoration.  

Clad reluctantly turned from her glowing radiance to present the stunning young woman to the village monarch.  The old woman smiled kindly and began her practiced speech.  Words surrounded him with the gift of pride and anticipation.   Arianna would be his to protect for all time.  He looked down at her and his world became perfect the moment he accepted this divine creature as his wife.  

The celebration following the simple wedding lasted late into the night.  They laughed and danced as flutes sang a salute to their love.  The next morning when he woke with his bride resting peacefully on his shoulder he smiled, thinking life would never again be so perfect.  He pulled her closer, knowing she was the reason for his very existence.  

It was with great pride that Clad led Arianna north to present her to his family.  He laughed as she questioned him.  

"Will they like me?"  He gently kissed her and reassured her of the love and devotion his parents would shower her with.  He looked back to the small group of men who completed their caravan and encouraged them with his eyes to confirm his words.  They did not hesitate.  Arianna delighted him with her purest smile and thanked him with a light kiss.  

It took a week to reach the small hill bordering Clads home. Excitement coursed through him when he saw the smoke floating to the sky and licked his lips in anticipation of the feast that would welcome him and his new wife. As they climbed the slight incline he chuckled when a childhood memory filled his mind.

"What’s so funny?"  Arianna asked.  Clad looked at her quizzical anticipation and momentarily debated if he should share with her the secrets of his past.

"If I tell you I am afraid you will never look at me the same again." She raised a brow and her eyes widened. Clad couldn’t help but wrap his arm around her, pull her near, and kiss away the sudden worry reflecting from her innocent emerald eyes.

"I was a different lad in my youth; quite mischievous in fact.  I fear I felt the sting of a switch one too many times as well as gained incredible amounts of experience in numerous chores around our village."  Arianna smiled at the teasing in his voice.

"And this is why you chuckle?  He grinned and nodded his response.  You have intrigued me.  It may be best if you tell me what I can expect if we are to have sons of our own someday."  She gazed up at him shyly and it took all his willpower to continue climbing the hill and not whisk her away to work on the suggested task.  He cleared his throat and looked at her soberly.

"When I was a much, much younger man my best friend, Mac, and I stole one of Marcel’s potions!"  Clad maintained a serious expression though he knew by Arianna’s sputtered gasp and the sudden light in her eyes she was imagining two youngsters sneaking into the witch’s hut to take a vial of liquid for some naughty intention.

"What did you do with it?"  She attempted to compose a stern look, but failed miserably.

"Do you remember the old man I told you about the other day that was grumpy as a badger?  She nodded.  Well, Old Man Shace used to get these bad aches in his back and feet.  Marcel had made him a cream that he would rub on the sore spots a few times a day.

"Mac and I had no idea what the cream we stole would do so we decided to trade out Shace’s cream with the one we took."

"You didn’t?"  Arianna had to cover her mouth to hide her grin.  Clad gently pulled her hand away and lightly ran a finger over the side of her mouth and watched her breath catch.

"We did!"  He pulled her to a rock and sat her down so he could tell her the rest of the story.  They were only a short way from the top of the hill and if they continued, he would be unable to finish the tale.  His family could wait a few more minutes before meeting his new bride.  He signaled for the men to take a break and sat beside Arianna.

"Mac and I waited until the next morning for Old Man Shace to go work in the gardens.  When we were sure we would not be caught we snuck into his shack and found the cream Marcel had made for him.  We scraped the goo into a bowl we found in his cooking chest and replaced it with the cream we had taken from Marcel’s hut.

"We ran from the tent like Sorchanna herself was chasing after us with the switch to beat us with."  Clad shook his head at the thought of the Great Goddess coming down to punish him with a whipping stick.

"It would be Melek, God of the underworld, who would be chasing you, not to spank you, but to pull you into Purgatory for your sinful deeds," Arianna corrected with a gleam in her eyes.

"Indeed, I believe you may be right, Love.  He tweaked her nose and continued his tale.  We watched from behind a nearby shack until Old Man Shace returned from the fields to take his afternoon break.  When he disappeared inside we ran across the path to the side of his home to watch from the window.

"Shace was just pulling the cream from the shelf when we poked our heads over the windowsill.  Clad chuckled again and his voice almost squeaked with mirth when he continued.  He rubbed that cream all over his back, groaning the whole time.  When he pulled up a chair to sit on, Mac and I were struggling to keep our laughter at bay.

"Shace pulled his foot over his opposite leg and began kneading the cream into the arches of his foot.  At that point, I’ll admit I was the first to make a sound.  Both Mac and I ducked our heads just as the old man’s keen eyes darted to the window.  We heard the chair scrape and knew he was coming for us.  That’s when the fun began."  Clad pumped his eyebrows.

"Did he catch you then?"  Arianna asked when Clad did not continue right away.  She watched with impatience as he broke off a piece of wheat grass and stuck it in his mouth.  He chewed on it for a few moments without saying a word.  When he was sure his wife would explode with curiosity he finally spoke again.

"He began to swear.  That’s what made Mac and I peek through the window again.  He was studying the cream suspiciously and at the same time reached for a towel.  Mac and I about burst when he lifted the bowl of cream to his nose then flinched at the sweet scent.

"Shace whipped the towel from the shelf and began rubbing it against his back furiously while advancing on the two pesky faces laughing at him from the window.  ‘What did you do?’ he yelled then froze.   

"Oh Arianna, I can’t tell you how amazing it was to watch his expression transform from the look of death to cold fear.  His face turned white, his eyes widened, and you could visibly see the sweat begin pouring over his brow.  He looked at the cream, looked at us then dropped the canister on the ground.  I am positive he had no idea what he was doing for several moments, because he reached up and wiped his hand over his forehead like he was attempting to force himself to think of a solution.

"When he realized what he was doing he yelped and sprang into action.  He darted from the shack and ran to the stream.  I bet that was the best bath he’d had in months.  Mac and I were laughing so hard it attracted several of the villagers, including Marcel and my father.  I tell you one thing’s for sure; one look from my old man sobered us two boys faster than anything I could ever imagine.

"After Shace finally finished scrubbing the lotion from his skin he stormed out of the water, took Mac and I by the ears and led us back to his shack.  Everyone in attendance followed close by so Shace had no qualms about leaving us outside while he went in to retrieve the bowl of cream.  He stepped out of his home and towered over Mac and me.  I swear I have never seen a person look so tall and forbidding."

Arianna chuckled.  

"He handed Marcel the bowl and asked her what it was.  You know what she said?  ‘So this is what happened to the hair growing tonic I made for Grism." Clad’s laughter echoed off the rocks and over the grass.  Arianna’s eyes watered in response to her own intense merriment.

"Mac and I had to do extra chores for over a month, but it was worth the sore muscles every time we walked past Old Man Shace’s hut and there he was standing outside scowling at his wife as she shaved his back, forehead, and foot."

"Oh Clad, will I ever be able to handle raising sons?"  Arianna laughed.

"Well, My Sweet, you are quite lucky to have me for their father.  I know all the tricks and played all the pranks possible.  I will be able to stop their mischief before it starts."

"That or you’ll teach them all the tricks you know and watch as they show you how to do them better!"  Clad looked up as Mitch approached them.

"I hope not", Arianna responded to the intruder with a smile of welcome as he squatted before her and Clad.

"I remember that day as being one of the best days of my life.  I was a few years younger than Mac and Clad, but I watched every prank they played over the years.  They were heroes for every boy in the village.  None of us had the courage to do what they did.  After I got older they let me start participating…"

"By participating he means we sent him around doing our dirty work," Clad offered, Mitch chuckled.

"Yeah, but I didn’t catch on