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

for the castle, Ulam climbed the loft, each step feeling as though his legs were made of lead. When he reached his bed he fell face first onto the straw mattress, his body quickly fusing with the blankets. Within minutes Ulam slipped into the dream realm, so exhausted was he that he did not even take off his boots first.

That did not last long. At least not long enough.

Ulam stretched, his muscles warm but tired. He rubbed his eyes, picking at the gunk that had collected in the corners. A lazy yawn escaped as he rolled out of the bed and continued stretching. Afterward, he turned to the bed and frowned, discovering he had stained the sheets with mud and grime. He grunted. Probably should throw Korso a couple more coins, just to be courteous.

The Bride’s Oasis was eerily quiet, the only sound a scratching noise from a mouse chewing on a table leg. Ulam approached the counter, left a few extra coins for the barkeep, and then exited the tavern. The air was chilly but not as frigid as it had been in recent months, something else for which he was thankful. He looked to the sky and smiled, for it was the first day in a long time that the sun was not cloaked in ash gray clouds. Though the sun’s presence was brilliant and spiritually uplifting, Ulam could not enjoy the moment for long. I need to return to Home and find Amantius. But how many more times can I disobey Count Aldamar?

By the time Ulam reached the castle the sun had risen enough to bathe Silverwater in a golden aura, a heavenly sight for anyone awake to witness. In a way he felt special, as he seemed to be the only person in the entire city, the only one allowed to enjoy such a beautiful morning. He crossed the courtyard and entered the barracks, expecting to find people still sleeping. But much to his surprise the building was empty, even though a freshly built fire was crackling in the fireplace. I am not going to complain about a warm room, but where is everyone? Is there an assembly somewhere?

Ulam tossed his backpack on his bed, not bothering to unpack its contents just yet. Aside from a dagger and a handful of nuts, there was not much inside. He took off the leather vest he had been wearing the last few days and slipped on some armor, the standard-issue made by the castle’s quartermaster. He then grabbed the jade green axe he found in the Orc Sanctuary, taking a moment to marvel at the craftsmanship once again. Though he did not understand why he felt such a strong spiritual connection to the weapon, he could not deny that such an enchanting magnetism existed.

Ulam returned to the courtyard and immediately felt something was amiss. Like the barracks, the courtyard was empty as well. No one stood guard over the gatehouse, no one sparred in the training grounds. He climbed a watchtower and looked over the city, the hum of civilization reaching his ears as the locals began their day. But behind him, there was only quiet, as though the castle had been abandoned overnight.

Where is everyone? Ulam thought as he looked around. Perhaps the Count will know.

Ulam pushed open the double doors of the castle, the sound of the creaking hinges amplified by the silence within. Inside the hall was darker than normal, the only beacon being a solitary glow of a gleaming lantern near the entrance. As he entered he grabbed the lantern, using its light to illuminate a path through the darkness. Though he wanted to move cautiously through the halls, the jitters he had from the stale air and dreadful silence compelled him to walk faster.

Somewhere behind him, Ulam heard a sound. Quickly he turned around, pointing the lantern in the direction of the noise. He saw nothing as he waited, searching the edge of the lantern’s light for any sign of movement. Deep inside he expected to see yellow eyes, and was quite surprised his mind had not played that trick yet. But he saw nothing, and a minute later he began walking again, backpedaling as he kept the lantern aimed behind him.

Suddenly Ulam tripped over something heavy on the floor, sending the big Orc crashing to the ground. Helplessly he watched as the lantern bounced across the hard tile floor, eventually stopping when it reached a wall. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw the flame burning inside, realizing without the lantern’s light he would be lost in a maze of never-ending darkness. Thank the Gods.

Ulam crawled across the floor and gathered the lantern before climbing to his feet. As he stood he turned around, shining the light in the direction from whence he came. But he was too far away to see what tripped him, the object was still cloaked in darkness. Slowly he retraced his steps, searching the edge of the light for the culprit. What the hell did I trip over?

Suddenly he saw something in the middle of the hall, the flame from his lantern reflecting on iron. As Ulam drew near his eyes grew huge, while the arm holding the lantern began to shake. It was the body of a Castle Guard.

Ulam’s breathing shortened, his heart threatened to break free from his chest. The cold fist of fear gripped his spine, paralyzing him from doing anything else other than standing still. He needed all his willpower to break free of the trance that shackled him, eventually willing himself to move. Immediately he placed the lantern on the ground and retreated into the shadows, hoping whoever or whatever killed the man had not seen or heard him. As he watched and listened he tried organizing his thoughts, as well as plan his next course of action.

What should I do? What can I do? Run to the town, get the City Guard and return? What of Count Aldamar? Is he still alive? In danger? By