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

bore sometimes, Ulam,” Amantius said as he finally laid his head on the pillow, “here we are, presented with a golden opportunity to make something of ourselves, and you need time to think. What is there to think about? We need employment. We need food. We need shelter. Captain Karraman and the Castle Guards offer all these things, even if…”

“You must always be cautious, Amantius,” Ulam interrupted, his voice stern, “Because even if the water is still, there may be serpents that lurk beneath.”

Chapter 11

Amantius

Amantius was not going to admit it, but Ulam had been right. The food Captain Karraman had promised was basic and unappealing; slices of stale bread and a bowl of bland soup every day to keep from starving. The pay was meager, and the beds were stiff and covered in the thinnest of blankets. With time and no small amount of rationing, Amantius had saved enough money to buy a wool blanket for his bed, Ulam having done the same.

He and Ulam were often assigned to stand guard in abandoned areas of the castle, where over the duration of a day only a few people would meander by. Since Ulam was not one for a long conversation, these types of assignments wore on Amantius’ spirit. He did everything he could to pass the time, but nothing seemed to work. No matter how many times he counted the stones or cracks in the floor, there never were going to be any more or any less. On occasion Captain Karraman rewarded their patience with a stint outdoors, ordering them to patrol the gardens or the castle walls. These were the days Amantius came to appreciate because even the heaviest rain was still preferable to the stagnant air within the castle.

Of everything, Amantius enjoyed their training sessions with the veteran guards the most. The sparring matches happened every day, during which he watched Ulam use brute strength to defeat the other newcomers. Whenever the Orc faced one of the more seasoned men he would lose, because they honed a gracefulness and skill that Ulam did not quite possess. Amantius, on the other hand, was quick and agile, but oftentimes would let his arrogance control him. But no matter how many bruises and verbal lashings he sustained daily, he always looked forward to the next day’s training session.

Within a month Amantius and Ulam were no longer viewed as green recruits, but full-fledged members of the Castle Guards. Amantius was issued a light set of chainmail as well as a short sword, both tempered by the castle’s quartermaster. The first time he wore the armor he learned he did not like the extra weight, the muscles in his shoulders and back grew tired quickly and ached for days. He was supposed to wear a helmet too but he refused; there was no way he was going to let a giant piece of metal cover up his beautiful, midnight black hair.

Meanwhile, Ulam carried a one-handed axe and wore a giant piece of chainmail, which had been created and promptly forgotten long ago by a different blacksmith. It was clunky and heavy, almost too heavy for Amantius to even lift from the ground, with rust in many of the chain links. Ulam religiously polished the metal for days, scrubbing hard, hoping to remove as much rust and grime as he could. When he had finished the piece of armor shined bright, like a shimmering lake.

One day Amantius and Ulam found themselves on top of the battlements surrounding the castle, serving as nothing more than decorations. A breeze blew across the dark gray stones, chilling their arms and legs. Amantius had been talking about nonsensical things for hours, failing to find a conversation Ulam would want to have. He had tried everything; he spoke of Pelecia, Accaria, the architecture of the castle, his favorite breeds of dogs, he even proposed theories as to why there were no Orcs to be found anywhere. Yet no matter what he tried, nothing seemed to capture Ulam’s interest.

“Sometimes I wonder if Count Aldamar even exists,” Amantius said. Much to his surprise, Ulam grunted. About time, I’ve only been talking for half this shift.

“Do you ever wonder why we never see Count Aldamar?” Ulam said in a low voice, hoping no one overheard him. Although, Amantius was not sure if anyone could overhear them from their spot on top of the wall.

“Every day,” Amantius admitted. “Why do you think that is?”

Ulam shrugged his massive shoulders, the chainmail clinking as he did so. “I am sure he is a busy man, what with all that is happening within his city and county. Mercenaries and ruffians rule the streets, and the Mad Raven is lurking out there somewhere.”

“Ah, yes, the Mad Raven,” Amantius said. Ulam’s words had sparked a memory, something he had intended to tell him earlier. “I overheard Captain Karraman and others speaking the other day; it seems those mercenaries and ruffians are being sent out there soon to hunt down the Mad Raven and her Flock. The Captain will be personally leading them, though I do not believe we will be leaving Silverwater.”

Ulam grunted. “And what of the Castle Guards?”

Amantius shrugged. “I don’t know; we’ll probably be stuck here guarding the damned pantries again.”

Amantius had longed for some sort of adventure, anything to break up the monotony of guarding empty corners of the castle. Even though Ulam had not said anything since they joined, Amantius believed his foster-brother craved the same thing. After all, Ulam was the one who wanted to initially decline Karraman’s invitation to join the Guards and keep journeying.

After they were relieved of their patrol they retired for the night, thankful that yet another long, uneventful shift had come to a close. As they entered the barracks they saw Captain Karraman standing in the center of the room with a strange man neither had seen before, addressing the rest of their fellow Guards. When Captain Karraman saw the two enter the room he stopped