The Elder's Curse by Andrew Walbrown (superbooks4u .txt) 📗
- Author: Andrew Walbrown
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As he refastened his trousers, Amantius heard the rustling of leaves nearby, assuming a curious desert goat was scouting for the rest of the herd. He turned and stared into the thick vegetation behind him, but when he did not see one of the shaggy animals, he slowly began reaching for the knife he had at his hip. Everything grew quiet, the bleating on the opposite shore halted as three dozen heads stopped drinking to stare into the verdant wall around him. Time seemed to slow as his eyes grew wide and his heartbeat thundered in his chest. But I guess just because I don’t want to eat them, that doesn’t mean something else isn’t hungry.
Right as Amantius was about to backpedal to Ulam and Nilawen’s location the beast suddenly appeared, revealing a little, brown goat with patches of white hair. With one glance at a knife-wielding Amantius, the goat galloped around the oasis towards the rest of its tribe, screaming loud enough to be heard on the other side of the world. Amantius stared in disbelief as the little goat ran away from him, the anxiety that had grown in his heart instantly vanishing. As he watched the brown and white hindquarters bob in the tall grass he erupted into sidesplitting laughter, laughing so hard he dropped the knife so he could hold his ribs. Good thing that didn’t happen before I pulled down my pants, I might have pissed myself!
Suddenly there was another rustling of grass behind him, the noise coming from the exact location as before. Expecting another goat he turned to scare the next poor creature as well, but he did not see another goat. Amantius saw nothing. There was only a sudden blast of pain in his head before his whole world turned black.
Chapter 9
Ulam
Ulam struggled to open his eyes. He knew he had to get up, despite his body’s pleas for another three or four hours of sleep. He felt around for his axe, feeling secure as his hand gripped the handle, a ritual born from the night he was attacked in Silverwater’s Orcish Sanctuary. With a little help from the western sun, Ulam managed to open both eyes, yawning as he shielded his vision from the occasional flash of orange light. Judging by how low the sun was hanging he guessed he had been asleep all day. At any other point of his life, he would have been disappointed in wasting his entire day, but because they had developed a routine of traveling only in the early mornings and late evenings, Ulam chose to skip the self-shaming and enjoy the picturesque scenery of the oasis.
To Ulam’s left Nilawen was asleep, her back against the trunk of a palm tree while drool dripped down her face. To his right, he saw an imprint where Amantius had been, as well as a set of footprints leading into the bushes nearby. His backpack was still there, as well as his pair of boots, but there was no sign of Amantius. Ulam climbed to his feet and stretched, grimacing at the stiffness in his joints. He then gathered all the canteens and walked to the edge of the oasis, filling each with crystal blue water before returning them to their respective backpacks. He waited for a few moments before searching for Amantius, expecting his foster-brother to appear shortly. How far could he have wandered without his footwear or backpack?
“Brother?” Ulam called out as he followed the footprints leading into the thicket of tall grass. “Are you in here?”
There was no response.
“Amantius,” Ulam repeated as he stepped further inside. “Where are you?”
Only the wind and the swaying of the grass replied.
“Ulam, Amantius,” Nilawen’s croaky voice called from behind. “Where are you two?”
“Here,” Ulam yelled as he raised an arm high above the stalks so she could see. “I do not know where he is though. Amantius…Amantius! Where are you?”
Ulam stepped forward, using his axe to part the blades of grass in front of him. As he pushed through a sharp glare suddenly hit him in the eyes, one produced by an abandoned knife in the sand. He picked up the weapon, instantly recognizing it as the one Amantius carried, and felt a cold terror wash over him. Without regard to the dozens of paper-thin cuts appearing on his exposed forearms, Ulam jumped through the stalks of tall grass, his wild eyes searching for any signs of Amantius. Finally, he came to a clearing where the grass had been crushed under something heavy, with a small trail of blood leading out of the oasis.
“Nilawen!” Ulam roared as he rushed towards her, the intensity of his voice scaring the goats and deer on the opposite shore. “Amantius is gone! He has been taken by an animal!”
“What!?” Nilawen yelled, the tranquility on her face from moments ago entirely shattered. “How!?”
“I do not know!” In
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