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

not want to be seen crossing the Silverwood, especially with night quickly approaching. Having made his decision, he climbed inside the wagon and unpacked his blankets to form a makeshift bed. He then tied the wagon’s curtains together with a needle and thread, leaving a slit large enough for only a sliver of sunlight so he could read. When comfortable he pulled out a book about Gnomish culture and customs, and waited for morning.

Chapter 29

Amantius

Jaga and Amantius stood in the courtyard, their hands over an open flame. Nearby were sets of wooden weapons, heavy with nicks from brute force collisions. They had been sparring all afternoon, the weather having warmed enough for the snow to melt, leaving their makeshift arena cold and muddy. Jaga had personally taken it upon himself to see to Amantius’ weapons training; the two of them practicing every day. The first few days had been painful for Amantius, every round ended with him on his backside with a new bruise as a temporary souvenir. But recently their matches lasted longer than a couple maneuvers, sometimes Amantius was even able to land a successful blow on the old warchief.

“You’re getting stronger,” Jaga said as he rubbed his forearm where Amantius’ wooden blade had made contact. “Your swordsmanship needs some work, though. You’ve been slower than usual; you seem tired.”

Amantius smiled. Morganna makes sure I don’t get too much rest at night. He had spent every night with the Countess, a whirlwind of romance and passion that left him on the brink of exhaustion. She was completely insatiable, demanding his company whenever he was free. He had obliged every time, partially because he feared disappointing her, but also because he lusted for her just as much. He felt as though she had cast a spell over him, one he was not sure he could break, or ever wanted to break.

“I’d be careful if I were you,” Jaga interrupted Amantius’ thoughts, “the Countess may be fond of you, but there are plenty of people here who are not.”

“Oh, she’s more than fond of me,” Amantius mumbled, followed by a smile. He felt good about his situation for the first time since he arrived in Home, perhaps even since he had left Accaria. Now if Ulam was here, too, everything would be perfect.

Jaga shook his head. “This is a tight-knit group you stumbled upon. Most have fought together, and lost together, for a very long time. We’re all loyal to her, so if something were to happen, and things go sour, just know no one will stand beside you.”

The thought that his relationship with Morganna would deteriorate was so preposterous to Amantius that he almost laughed aloud, but there was something in Jaga’s voice that checked his reaction. No one will stand beside me. Is that his way of telling me that I’m still an outsider? Even though I have more than pulled my weight in chores and have even killed a man for these people, they still don’t consider me as one of them? What more do they need?

“Alright, lad,” Jaga picked up a wooden sword with his right hand, tossing a second towards Amantius with his left, “a few more rounds and we’ll be done for the day. Show me what you’ve got.”

They parted after sparring, Amantius covered in more bruises than he could count. I have more bruises than the time I fell out of the tree in Old Man Casius’ yard. He started laughing at the memory. By the Gods, I thought he was going to kill me. How was I supposed to know the tree was dead and the branches were rotten? Ulam laughing also didn’t help any.

Amantius touched a bruise on his leg, wincing at the pain. That one is going to take some time to heal. The sky above was starting to lose its color, indicating that night was quickly approaching. He knew Morganna would be expecting him soon, as she had every night, but his muscles were so sore and drained of energy he was not sure if he would be able to satisfy her demands. I wish I could rest, but would she understand? What if she doesn’t, what if she gets offended, and I have to run for my life? Is that what Jaga meant by his warning?

Amantius had mindlessly wandered outside of the palisade wall, standing a dozen paces away from the entrance to the compound. His eyes rested on an old dirt path that cut through the vegetation, the same path they had used to reach the highway. As he stared down the pathway he relived every step of his journey through the woodland, recalling the stone highway at the very end where he had slain his first man. Shame started to fill his stomach again, but he quickly forced himself to think about something else, particularly the mother and daughter. In his heart he prayed they found Ulam, hoping the Gods had delivered them safely to Silverwater. To Silverwater.

“I know how to get to Silverwater,” Amantius whispered to himself, the realization burning away a fog in his mind. “I could go to Ulam myself.”

He glanced at the fortifications, feeling a spark of excitement grow in his belly as he realized they were deserted. No one knows I’m here. He then turned his attention towards the Great Hall, the structure nestled in the shadows of the towering cliff behind it. Morganna is expecting me though. Dammit! But if I’m going to go, this is my chance. I could be halfway to the highway before anyone notices I’m gone.

Fear and indecision paralyzed him, as well as a sense of loyalty to Morganna and Jaga. After all, they could have killed him a thousand times over if they truly thought of him as a prisoner and enemy. By trekking to Silverwater alone, he ran the risk of being branded a traitor, of not being welcomed when he returned. At the same time, though, he needed to go to the city, to find out for himself if Ulam still lived, and if he did,