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

across the fortress with a few bodyguards flanking her. She wore a modest raven black gown, the same color as the flowing locks of hair that gently poured over her shoulders. The dress was trimmed in white and purple, the fabric hugging her curves perfectly. Amantius thought he was in the presence of a goddess, come down from the heavens to grace the unworthy with her divine beauty. Though she might not have been a deity, she wielded an almost supernatural power over him. To Amantius, it was as though there was nothing else in the world; no trees, no sunshine, no people, just her.

“Close your mouth, boy,” Jaga growled behind him. “And keep it closed.”

“Feeling better, I see,” Morganna said, dimples forming from her radiant smile. “But please, relax. I can see you are placing a great strain upon yourself by standing for me.”

Amantius scolded himself for appearing weak in Morganna’s presence. Though he wanted to impress her with his toughness, he was somewhat relieved that he was allowed to sit down again. His lower limbs were screaming in pain, the muscles having already stiffened during the stroll he took with Jaga.

“Showing him around Home around you?” Morganna asked. Jaga nodded silently, his usual grimace plastered on his face. “So Amantius, what do you think of our little community?”

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Amantius replied. There were many aspects of Home that impressed him; the sheer vastness of the place, its hidden location underneath a thick canopy, even its efficiency as a proper city was notable. There was a natural beauty to the forest stronghold, and the wafting aroma of wildflowers and fruit made Home the best smelling settlement he believed he would ever see. That is if he was ever allowed to leave. After all, he was still Countess Morganna’s prisoner.

“There’s much worse places for me to be held captive,” Amantius continued with a faint smile. He winced at the last two words. I shouldn’t have said that, hopefully she wasn’t offended. I don’t feel like a prisoner, and she doesn’t make me feel like one either. 

Countess Morganna smiled, though there was no warmth in it. “Held captive? But Amantius, you are not being held captive here. We are simply healing you, and when you feel you have recovered entirely, you may leave if you wish.” She took a few steps closer and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Although, I hope you would stay here, with me. I would be ecstatic if you became one of us.”

Amantius’ heart thundered so loud he feared it would rip from his chest. Countess Morganna’s eyes slowly drifted to where his heart was, as though she could hear it too. No, that’s nonsense. She can’t hear my heartbeat. Maybe she can feel it, though? Who cares, she wants me to stay here! With her! How can I say no?

“You do not have to answer now,” Morganna said as she pulled away, the smile on her face indicating she already knew what he would choose. “Take a fortnight, rest a while longer. Come to my hold when you have decided,” she began to walk away, her bodyguards following. A few steps later she abruptly stopped, turning to face him again. “Or come to my hold just to see me.”

“I will!” Amantius blurted out, instantly regretting his eagerness. You can’t let a woman know what you want, Amantius. Gods, you are a fool.

Countess Morganna walked away, disappearing behind a row of buildings. Amantius sat still for a moment, his heart thumping so hard it began to hurt. His stomach felt as though he had swallowed a family of butterflies, his arms and legs suddenly felt light. He began to giggle quietly to himself, unaware of anything else in the world.

Then he felt a pain in the back of his head.

“I told you to keep your mouth shut,” Jaga muttered, his expression forever unchanged.

Chapter 20

Ulam

Ulam spent countless hours in the depths of Count Aldamar’s personal library, stacking dozens of books all around the desk where he read. Scouring each text for anything regarding the Orcs and their disappearance was how he kept his mind off Amantius, plunging himself into a world of yellowed pages to escape his current reality. Initially, it had been difficult to fight the urge to return to the Silverwood, but with each passing day he accepted the helplessness of his situation even more. Though his pride wanted him to believe he could rescue Amantius by himself, he knew Count Aldamar had spoken the truth. If I were to go, it would be a suicide mission. The enemy knows the lay of the land far better than I, and no matter how strong I may be, I am still just one person against many.

When he was not reading, Ulam continued his weapons training. Initially, it was difficult to find a sparring partner, however, as Ulam was so much bigger and stronger than the others. Even though he was not trained for combat, he was able to overpower many of his comrades, inflicting punishment even with wooden weapons. One by one people began refusing training with Ulam, until eventually Captain Karraman himself picked up the mantle. By that time the Captain had fully recovered from his injuries, having resumed the full responsibilities of his post.

The first few weeks of training were rough for Ulam, because while his brute strength would defeat a less experienced duelist, it did not work well against Captain Karraman’s speed and finesse. Time after time the Aldamar’s captain defeated Ulam, expertly parrying heavy blows from the Orc while also landing counterattacks. Despite the constant beating he received from Karraman’s wooden sword, Ulam never gave up. Each day he returned to the practice yard, and each day he left with new bruises. As time went on, the bruises became fewer and less severe, until one day the roles were switched and he struck Captain Karraman first.

“By the Gods,” Karraman said as he retreated, rubbing his shoulder where the wooden practice axe