Morning Diamond

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.

I know its only the first chapter, but did the descriptions paint you a picture?  Can you create a vision of the scene in your mind?  Enjoy where it goes from here.