The Mad Raven's Tale (The Accarian Chronicles Book 1) by Andrew Walbrown (little red riding hood read aloud txt) 📕

They filed back into their home, Ulam locking the main gate as well as the main door for the first time since he could remember. He was not sure if he had ever locked both in the same night. Crime was unheard of in this part of the city, so much so that he had never truly entertained the idea of a break-in. But the uncertainty of the night inspired him to do so, though he could not say he felt any more secure.

“What do you think is happening?” Amantius asked as the lock clicked shut. “What do you make of the rumors?”

Ulam grunted. “Regardless of whether or not they are true, the city will be torn apart. A kingdom with three princes never has a smooth succession.”

“Let’s say they are true,” Amantius continued, “What do you think would happen?”

Ulam thought for a moment; he was not sure if he wanted to answer truthfully. He knew Amantius was the type of person who forever wanted to see the good in things, and never the bad. In some ways Ulam envied him, wondering how different life with a childlike naivety was from the one he lived. It annoyed him that he could never speak his mind, or what he thought was the truth. He had always told himself he would be more honest someday, though he was smart enough to realize this would be the wrong day to begin. One look at Amantius told him that his foster-brother’s intoxication had made him far too irritable, and any negative statements would not be received well.

“Maybe Zeno was overcome with grief and took a warband for protection,” Ulam said, his voice gruff enough to sell the lie.

“Perhaps,” Amantius replied, more optimistic than Ulam had wished. “Where do you think Balian is?”

Dead, or in a dungeon, Ulam thought but did not dare say. “Perhaps he is with his brother, or he is overcome with grief as well. How am I to know?”

“I’m sure of it,” Amantius replied, “If my father died, assuming I had known the man, I would be paralyzed with grief as well.”

Pelecia groaned from the couch, where she had been resting. Her eyes were bloodshot from the tears she had shed, though she had been so quiet that Ulam forgot she was in the same room. Beside her on a table were the three trophies of the day, all of which Ulam feared would now be synonymous with the King’s death. He found the reversal of symbolism to be quite fascinating, if not a little saddening as well.

Ulam slowly walked to the window and watched the blue flames dance high above the palace, the leaping flames shaped like spears piercing the darkness of the night’s sky. As he drew in a deep breath a foreign feeling penetrated his stomach, one unlike any other he had ever felt. He could not tell if it was fear, excitement, or a combination of both, but whatever it was, it made Ulam feel alive.

Everything will change. Everything has changed.

Chapter 5

Amantius

Amantius thought the last few days were the longest in his entire life. Spending every day locked inside his home was nothing short of torture to him, especially since he could see Mount Meganthus from a window in the living room. He yearned to climb the mountain again, to watch the gulls dive into the sparkling sea, but ever since the news of Prince Zeno’s disappearance the city had been under martial law. Townspeople were allowed to be out of their homes, but they were under the constant scrutiny of Prince Varian’s most loyal soldiers. A curfew had been enacted as well, and every night the screams of some unfortunate soul were proof of the rule’s enforcement. Because of this, Pelecia forbade both Amantius and Ulam to leave their home, unless an emergency were to arise.

Amantius was worried about his mother; she had been deeply affected by the news of King Roderic’s passing. She had become distant, spending many hours of the day staring endlessly into space. Initially, Amantius did not understand her reaction, because to the best of his knowledge the two had never interacted, but as the days passed he began to sympathize with her. After all, under King Roderic’s reign, the economy had stabilized, war had never touched the land, and the populace was generally content. There were some problems on the island, such as issues with mudslides after heavy rains or the occasional meager harvest, but overall Roderic had left Accaria in a superb state. But with his passing the future suddenly became uncertain, leading Amantius to believe this was why his mother was so distraught. I suppose every good era must end eventually. But maybe the next won’t be so bad; it could even be better.

Amantius was staring out the window in the dining room when the main door opened, and a tall man entered the house without an invitation. He wore a priest’s robes, but to Amantius nothing seemed priestly about the man. He was older, a few years his mother’s senior, with a bald head. A large scar ran down the right side of his face, stretching from his temple to the corner of his mouth. His eyes were cold and calculating, his lips curled in a perpetual scowl.

Amantius immediately stepped in front of his mother, who was still lounging on the sofa in the living room. Ulam joined him, folding his arms and exposing his tusks a little more than normal. It was clear to him that Ulam had the same impression of the newcomer, and without a word spoken they agreed to defend their mother first and foremost if need be.

“What is the meaning of this?” Amantius croaked, unsettled by the man’s sudden appearance. He had hoped his voice would be more authoritative, but the pitch betrayed him. “Who are you? Why have you barged into our home?”

“Lady Pelecia.” The stranger said, his