Read Blue Diamonds (Book One of The Blue Diamonds Saga) for Free Online

hall, a new world lit up in the form of a wide, windowless cavern, fashioned with thick mahogany pillars and red brick walls traced with dark, smoke stained grout. The high ceiling is almost completely black, covered in soot from many years of smoky nights.
    Centering the room, surrounded by tables like the one Baymar and Shomnath presently occupied, is a giant, black, iron cauldron, standing over nine feet tall and nearly twelve feet wide. One side of the cauldron is flanked by a wooden, rickety flight of steps leading to the top of it. A slightly less rickety looking bar had been built around the other half. The monstrous pot, for which the tavern was named, was rumored stolen ages ago from a traveling horde of trolls. The trolls used it for cooking unfortunate travelers who crossed their path.
    Now, the cauldron was where the first person of the night that fell asleep from over-drinking was ceremoniously stripped naked and tossed into. Needless to say the establishment wasn’t exactly the pride and joy of Somerlund.
    “Young man,” said Baymar. “There hasn’t been any dragons for nearly two hundred years. Also, you told me that you had a job for a healer. I’m not accustomed to being lied to.” The old cleric’s bushy grey eyebrows rose high as he leaned back in his chair. He wanted to know why the prince hid his name, but wisdom told Baymar to keep the rest of his cards in pocket until his opponent revealed his.
    There was no deep reasoning behind the prince's secrecy. Concealing his namesake was just the norm for Shomnath. He wasn't hiding who he was from Baymar specifically, it was just second nature to deny who he was. His father spoiled him with the best of everything, assuming the prince would just slide into his royal shoes and relieve him of his duties, only to have Shomnath repulse at the notion. He grew up loathing his royal disposition, wanting nothing to do with his born station in society.
    The kingdom of Somerlund was blessed with peace for more than a decade and the idea of sitting upon a throne, even as its supreme leader didn’t hold a warm place in Shomnath’s heart. From the day he learned to mount a horse, he secretly wandered the countryside under different guises and name, seeking what he really wanted for himself. Above all he wanted to go off on fantastic adventures like the ones he read about in books.
    “I didn’t lie," said a grinning Shomnath. "I just didn’t mention that it’s a traveling job.”
    “A traveling job?”
    “Exactly. I have an excellent crew, but your healing magic would be extremely valuable to us.” The ends of Shomnath’s curly brown locks jiggled loose from under his hood when he became animated. The dark cloak did nothing to hide his boyish energy.
    Baymar cringed at how simple the prince made his “healing magic” sound. A true cleric was educated in all facets of alchemy, nature and magic. They were far more than just healers. They were trained to manipulate the physical attributes in nature through the use of magic. Lord Baymar had reached a level beyond the likes of which many mage and sorceress alike die before reaching, yet the prince had just made his life’s work sound so minimal.
    “I hate to disappoint you,” Baymar quipped, “but I must refuse your generous offer. Traveling, as well as job, are two words I tend to avoid nowadays.”
    “But you haven’t heard everything yet,” declared Shomnath. His ship was quickly sinking and he felt it.
    “Exactly," countered the older man. "I’m absolutely sure that I haven’t.”
    “I know," Shomnath stroked his trimmed beard and leaned back into his chair. "You doubt my ability to pay for your services. That it will be worth your while. I assure you, I can meet any price.”
    “No, I question why you want to bother a tired old man with this. I’m sure there are plenty of young heroes for hire who would jump at a paying contract.”
    “You're joking right?" scoffed the prince. "I’m not the