The Mad Raven's Tale (The Accarian Chronicles Book 1) by Andrew Walbrown (the lemonade war series txt) 📗

Ulam spent much of the voyage speculating what would become of Accaria, playing out every scenario in his mind. He was not a fool, he knew the war that was about to engulf the island would kill many people, most of which he feared would be innocent. He had to push away any thoughts regarding Pelecia’s fate if King Varian discovered Amantius’ parentage, because in such an event he knew she would be murdered, and probably tortured first. Please be safe, Mother.

He shifted his thoughts to his future with Amantius; it was all he could do to keep from falling into a spiral of despair. He learned that within a month they would make landfall, and figured they should have a plan before they reached the mainland. Ulam was not entirely worried about finding work or living off the land, his large frame and immense strength would always afford him easy employment, he was more concerned about his dynamic with Amantius. To an extent they had been raised as brothers, although there had always been an unspoken separation between the two. He could not fault Pelecia for this, considering he was an orphaned Orc and Amantius was her only trueborn child. Nevertheless, they had always been family, and now that they were out of the confines of their home and away from Accarian society, the notion that they were brothers became increasingly foreign to him. Maybe we are not family after all.

As these thoughts swirled in his head, Ulam glanced at Amantius and watched as his distraught foster-brother mourned their collective fate. The poor lad was fixated on the small lump of tropical green in the vast blue ocean, the occasional tear escaping his bloodshot eyes. Ulam felt a sickening twist in his stomach as he saw the despair in Amantius’ face, unable to imagine what he was experiencing. Because while Pelecia was not Ulam’s real mother and Accaria was not his true homeland, both of which were to Amantius.

“Get one last look before it’s too late,” the captain shouted from the prow, “you may never see that rock again. Or if you do, it won’t look the same.”

Ulam almost peeked at the vanishing island, his home of the past twenty years, but in the end he chose not to do so. Accaria was his past, and the world was his future.

Chapter 9

Amantius

Amantius stared across the rippling blue waves of the ocean. Though they were many miles away from the shores of Accaria, he felt as though he could still see the city’s alabaster white walls ascending to the heavens above. In his mind, he saw Mount Meganthus, a pang shooting through his heart as he remembered how the morning mist would gently kiss his face. But now he was an ocean away from everything he had ever known or loved, in a completely alien land.

“Where am I?” Amantius muttered to himself, his voice just above a whisper.

“You’re in the southernmost reaches of the Emberi Empire, lad. Go a day’s walk north of here and you will see the City of Silverwater,” the sailor said as he pushed the small raft from the shore. “We would have taken you there, but the Empire has not been good to smugglers recently. Gods be with you, lads.”

“Gods be with you,” Amantius repeated, meaning the words for the first time. He had spoken the words so many times in his life that the reply was automatic, much like “thank you” and “you’re welcome.” But now he believed he would need all the blessings he could get.

Amantius and Ulam watched as the landing craft rowed away, becoming smaller and smaller until it was hoisted onto the much larger vessel anchored in the harbor. The men onboard unfurled the sails, and soon the whistling wind guided the ship back to sea. When there was nothing more than a white square in the far distance, Ulam gathered his things and proceeded towards an old stone road.

“Where are you going?” Amantius asked.

“North. To Silverwater.”

“What will you do when you get there?”

“I do not know, Amantius,” Ulam replied, his voice gruff, but sad as well.

Although Amantius had known Ulam his whole life, he had never seen such a look of uncertainty in the Orc’s gray eyes. But of course, Amantius himself had never been as bewildered as he was at this moment. Only a month ago he was dining on crab legs in his mother’s home without a worry in the world, and now he was unsure of what his next meal was going to be, or when it would occur.

Ulam dropped his bags on the road and trounced through the rocky sand towards where Amantius was standing. When the Orc was within arm’s length he grabbed Amantius by the shoulders and squeezed firmly, staring directly into his eyes.

“Let it go, Amantius,” Ulam grumbled, “there is no going back now.”

Amantius did not want to believe him; he was already concocting methods of returning to Accaria. He thought that perhaps he could gain employment in Silverwater and make enough coin to pay for passage back to Accaria despite the closure of the Seawall. There were still plenty of points on the island where a ship could land, he argued, believing no blockade could successfully stop every smuggler from landing ashore. If that turned out to not be a viable option, he thought perhaps he could plead with the local lords, hoping they would sympathize and consent to return a man of royal blood back to his kingdom, regardless of the fact that he was a bastard.

As Amantius conceived scheme after scheme he began to realize perhaps Ulam was correct, that there was no going back. Each successive blueprint was slightly more absurd than the previous, until eventually his plans were completely senseless. It did not matter that his father was once