The Mad Raven's Tale (The Accarian Chronicles Book 1) Andrew Walbrown (early readers TXT) 📖

The morning was half over before Ulam had fully awakened, having arrived quicker than he had hoped. He was not excited about returning to duty, and even less so about having to retrain his body to rise earlier than he had been. He cursed when he realized he would have to skip breakfast, knowing by the time he joined Amantius he would be starving.

The sun was high overhead as he climbed the battlements, the rays unforgiving to the headache left behind by the copious amounts of ale and wine he consumed the day prior. Every sound was magnified a thousand times over, his ears making him aware of noises he had never noticed before. A bell on the other side of Silverwater rang for what Ulam believed was the first time ever, each chime thundering in his head. A flock of birds chattered on a house somewhere in the city, their squawks feeling like a thousand arrows shooting into his brain. Of all the days I could have returned to duty, why did I choose this one?

“You don’t look so well,” Amantius said with a snicker, “seems like your little vacation has made you soft.”

Ulam grunted, not wanting to use the energy to form a reply. Amantius goaded him a little longer before changing the subject, continuously speaking for over an hour until he finally stopped midsentence. Ah, silence.

“Do you see that?” Amantius eventually said, using his spear tip to point across the city.

“Please not be another fire,” Ulam replied, his voice grim. Even if a dragon set the entire world ablaze, Ulam decided he was not going to budge from that wall.

“No, coming down the road towards us,” Amantius said, his voice serious. “It looks like…”

Horns blared from the northwest gate, spurring a dozen men on horseback to ride from the city. They headed along the road in the direction of Silverwood Forest, towards a series of blurred figures far enough away to be indiscernible. Within moments the two groups met, then with the same urgency a rider was hastening back to Silverwater. Ulam watched as the horseman rode through the gate, across the city, and into the castle’s courtyard. Together Ulam and Amantius descended the stairs to find the horseman out of breath, his sleek mount glistening with sweat. Before they could speak to the rider the castle doors opened and outstepped a few guards flanking Count Aldamar, who stopped at the edge of the shadows cast by the stone towers.

The man stumbled off his horse and kneeled before Aldamar. “My Lord Count,” he began, his voice full of panic, “dire news.”

Aldamar’s expression was cold, emotionless. “Take a breath, and then continue.”

“It’s about Karraman’s warband,” the man said, “they have returned.”

That was Captain Karraman’s warband? Ulam thought, There was no more than…

“Only six men have returned. The rest,” the horseman paused, his voice trembling, “the Mad Raven, she has killed them all. Captain Karraman himself is gravely wounded, the survivors are unsure if he will survive.”

Everyone in the courtyard gasped except for Count Aldamar, who flashed a pained look before recapturing his stoic countenance. Ulam studied Aldamar’s face, not surprised to see that the Count maintained the same indifferent demeanor which defined him. The man had a constant calmness about him, the kind of self-control that Ulam hoped to attain for himself one day. He admired the way the Count was handling the new information, even though a dozen voices had erupted in a panic-fueled conversation. Ulam thought Aldamar looked like a stone in the middle of a river, ever strong and constant while the rapids broke before him.

“Give this man refreshments, and send a host of healers and others to assist those returning.” Count Aldamar said to a few guards who had just arrived, his voice strong and unwavering, “When they have been fed and rested, bring them to me; I must know everything before we decide upon our next course of action.”

A new course of action? Ulam thought, a grimace unknowingly forming on his lips. He turned to Amantius, who was lost in conversation with a nearby comrade. Are we next?

Chapter 15

Amantius

Dead, they’re all dead. Well, not all, but close enough.

Days had passed since the survivors of Captain Karraman’s warband returned to Silverwater. Only six remained, the Captain amongst them. His health had not improved much, but it was an encouraging sign that he had not died yet. Their return cast a permanent gloom over Silverwater, as the townsfolk and guards alike exchanged worried looks and paranoid whispers. Even within the ranks of the Castle Guards an uneasiness grew, the men fearful of the future. While most believed there would be no more forays into the wilderness, they knew if another attempt was made they would be the ones dying.

Amantius sat alone in the castle’s courtyard in front of a garden of flowers, watching a bee happily jumping between petals of blue and yellow. To some degree he envied that bee, completely unaware of the panic spreading through Silverwater. Unlike many in the city, the fuzzy little creature did not have to worry about potentially fighting the Mad Raven; its only purpose in life was to visit as many flowers as possible. You have no idea how good you have it, Little Bee. Enjoy it while it still lasts.

Amantius worried about the future, about what plans Aldamar and his advisors were concocting at that very moment. He feared he would be sent, along with the rest of the Castle Guards, to hunt down the Mad Raven and her Flock. But he questioned the logic behind such a decision, because if Captain Karraman could not bring her to justice then every other attempt would surely fail as well. Hopefully the Count is smart enough to realize that. But even if he is, will he care?

“Heard anything?” Ulam said as he approached, his voice gruff as always.

“Nothing other than whispers. Any