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

“I’m sorry,” Amantius said, his eyes fixed on the silhouette of the Great Hall, “I’ll come back as soon as I can. Please understand.”

Amantius sprinted down the path, wanting to use the day’s fading light to cover as much ground as possible. Bright red lines appeared on his exposed arms as he shielded his face from countless briars and twigs, their razor-sharp stings galvanizing his resolve. After some distance he began to suck in great volumes of air, his lungs burning as though they had caught fire in his chest. Because of this he suffered a lack of vision, causing him to trip over a stone he did not see. If not for quick reflexes he would have crashed into the frozen ground, but instead he was able to save himself by wrapping his arm around the trunk of a small tree.

“Dammit Amantius, what are you thinking?” He sputtered in between gasps. “You can’t see. You don’t have any food or water. And you don’t know where you’re going. Or even how to get back.” A brisk gust of wind prickled his skin, causing him to shiver. “And now you’re cold, with no way of even making a fire. Great plan.”

He sat down on a log to regain himself, to plan his next move. A little bit further down the path, he spotted the tilted shape of the wagon they abandoned, the one with the broken wheel. They had loaded it with too many spoils and the front wheel gave out, breaking into three or four pieces. A small amount of anger sparked inside of him as he thought about that, remembering how they had to act as pack mules and haul the goods back to Home. The idiots should have known the wagon wasn’t going to make it through the forest.

He used a sleeve of the bearskin cloak gifted to him by Morganna to wipe the sweat beading on his forehead, fearful if it froze to his skin he would succumb to the elements. He knew if he had any chance of finding the highway he would have to do so before nightfall, otherwise, he was doomed to wander the Silverwood all night without provisions of any kind. His only other option was to turn back, follow the path back to Home, and hope Morganna and the others had not noticed he was missing yet.

Amantius kept his head on a swivel, taking turns looking at both directions, weighing his options. One direction is Ulam, possibly, and a cold night without blankets or a bed. The other is hot food in my belly, a warm bed, and a beautiful woman to fill it. Hopefully. No matter how hard he tried to justify continuing towards the highway, in the back of his mind he knew to do so at this time of night, in this weather, with all sorts of creatures roaming about, was practically suicidal.

“Forgive me, Brother,” Amantius said as he stood, his eyes transfixed on the silhouette of the crippled wagon, “I’ll come for you some other time. I just hope you’ll still be in Silverwater when I do.” And I hope we’ll be on the same side.

Amantius turned his back and began hobbling towards Home, eventually breaking into a leisurely jog. He had covered a lot of ground during his dead sprint earlier, and his legs were screaming for rest, but he wanted to be back before the last ray of sunlight disappeared. He prayed his absence had gone unnoticed and that he had enough time to clean up before seeking out Morganna.

How am I going to explain the cuts? Amantius was worried about the myriad of red slashes across his arms and face from the briars, thinking their presence would betray him. It was one more reason why he wanted to hide from everyone until he could wash himself, hoping some basic salves would camouflage the smaller scratches. I have to clean them out first, the sweat in the cuts makes my arms feel like they’re on fire.

As he strolled up to the main gate Amantius was relieved to find the palisade wall was still unguarded. Immediately he went to the nearby stream and plunged his arms into the icy water, only stopping when they were completely submerged. His arms instantly stopped itching, the burning extinguished by the freezing temperature. For a moment Amantius enjoyed the sensation, until the brisk current began to numb his limbs. He pulled his arms out, using the dripping water to wash away some of the sweat on his face, tasting the saltiness trickling onto his lips. He then used his cloak to wipe his face and arms before the water could refreeze to his skin. Don’t want to get frostbite.

“There you are,” Jaga’s gruff voice said from behind him. “Been looking for you.”

Seems like someone noticed I was gone. “Well, I’m right where you last saw me.”

Jaga grunted, arched an eyebrow. “Yeah. But you didn’t have those on your arms and face. Where did you go?”

Of course he sees those, but to be fair, they do stand out on my skin. “Oh, yeah. I chased a rabbit through the woods. Briars cut me to pieces.”

“A rabbit, eh? What made you think you could catch a rabbit?” Jaga said, the look in his eyes suggesting he did not believe the lie.

Seems like he’s not buying it. “It was a fat rabbit, and I’ve done it before. It got away though, maybe next time.”

Jaga grunted, though his expression was unchanged. “You’re more likely to sprain an ankle. Anyway, we’re having a meeting and the Countess wants you there. If you need to keep washing yourself then do it quick.”

Amantius wiped as much dirt and sweat from his skin as he could and then hurried inside the walls, following Jaga’s trail to the Great Hall. Even though he seemingly convinced the old warchief that he was only chasing a rabbit, he knew he would also have to repeat the same lie to Morganna too. Deep inside, he