The Mad Raven's Tale (The Accarian Chronicles Book 1)

by Andrew Walbrown

  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 the time I rally enough people, the Count could be dead. No, there is no time. I must defend this castle, even if I must do so alone.

  Ulam grabbed the axe hanging from his side, giving the green blade a few practice swings in the dark. Newfound courage spread through his body as he listened to the blade whistle in the air, its sweet melody remedying any remaining fears. In his mind’s eye, he saw himself slay the Sanctuary fiend once again, and felt a swell of confidence invigorate his soul. I have defeated evil before, I shall defeat it once again.

  Ulam emerged from the shadows, axe in hand, prepared to fight whatever came his way. Realizing he would need light to see his enemy, he methodically sought out lanterns and lit them, basking every room in a soft yellow glow. As he did so he saw the bodies on the floor, all of whom wore the purple and silver of the Castle Guard. Their corpses were covered in blood, many of the bodies mutilated beyond recognition. Judging by the puncture wounds in the armor the men had been killed with blades, even though their throats had been ripped out as well. While anyone else may have run away from this grisly sight, Ulam felt a small degree of relief sweep over him. These same deathblows were widespread the night they were ambushed in Silverwood Forest, and also at the site of the massacre along the Western Pass. Ulam knew who his enemy was, but more importantly, he knew he could kill them. No monster or crazed lunatic did this, this was the work of the Mad Raven’s Flock.

  He pushed onwards, checking for survivors in each room of the castle on his way to the grand hall. But everywhere he searched he only found more death as the blood-soaked bodies of the Castle Guards littered each room. Though he would not allow the bloodshed to discourage him, as he neared the entrance to the grand hall Ulam had a moment of uncertainty. He was unsure if he alone would be enough to defeat the Mad Raven’s Flock, especially since their numbers were a complete mystery to him. Once again he debated whether or not he should leave the castle and return with the City Guard, but he feared doing so would not only lose valuable time but also leave the city unprotected. As he stalled he heard the sound of iron striking iron coming from inside the grand hall, followed by a death cry. Ulam tightened his grip on the axe handle and pushed open the doors, his decision made. To battle.

  The grand hall was in chaos. On one side of the room was Captain Karraman and four Castle Guards, all protecting Count Aldamar. Across from them were ten of the enemy, wearing an assortment of helmets designed from the heads of wild beasts. Corpses from both sides littered the area in between, with a pool of blood staining the tiled floors red. Without any hesitation Ulam ran across the room to Captain Karraman, who stood in front of the Count with his sword held high.

  “It seems we’ve evened the odds a little more, you bastards!” Captain Karraman yelled across the hall before turning to Ulam. “Damn, I’m happy you’re here.”

  There was a twinkle in his eye, a genuine enjoyment of what was happening. Initially, Ulam thought Captain Karraman had lost his mind, but as he stared across the hall at his enemy he felt a flicker of excitement in his heart as well. “I am too.”

  One of the enemies stepped forward. “Surrender Aldamar and we will spare you. This does not have to get bloody.”

  “Get bloody?” Captain Karraman almost choked on the words. “Get bloody! Look around you, we’re already swimming in a lake of blood, and there’s only one way this ends. With your heads separated from your shoulders! Follow me, lads!”

  Captain Karraman charged the enemy, screaming a battle-cry as he crossed the room. Instinctively Ulam followed, raising his axe high as he roared like a lion. Before he could swing his weapon Karraman had already decapitated someone, the Captain moving with such power and grace that Ulam was sure victory would be theirs. The Orc barreled into a man wearing a helmet shaped like a stag’s head, with antlers protruding from the top. He used his disproportionate bulk to send the man flying, bringing his axe down before his enemy could recover. Ulam then felt something heavy scrape against his back and was thankful the chain links of his mail turned away a blade. With almost no effort he swung his axe and shattered his new enemy’s sword, the metallic rasp of iron filling their corner of the grand hall. Ulam then unleashed a flurry of blows until he had completely overwhelmed his foe, the jade green of his axe painted red with gore. He stopped for a breath and saw the man was on the ground, his neck exposed. Without any hesitation, Ulam swung his axe and watched as another head rolled across the floor.

  Having been engaged in combat Ulam lost track of friend and foe alike, becoming completely unaware of what was happening around him. As he looked for his next victim he saw Captain Karraman fighting the last of the enemy, with a trail of headless corpses behind him. Of the four Castle Guards, three were dead from puncture wounds, while the fourth desperately clung to life. Count Aldamar was in a corner, his expression unreadable. Their eyes met and Ulam approached, feeling some degree of duty to stand guard now that no one else could. By the time he navigated the carnage the last of the enemy had been slain, one more bodiless head a gruesome decoration for the grand hall.

  “Is that all of them?” Captain Karraman called from across the room in between breaths.

  “Not quite.”

  Three more entered the room. One person wore a helmet with a wolf’s head, one wore one with a cougar’s, and the last wore a raven’s.

  Is that the Mad Raven?

  “Three more, eh?” Captain Karraman said as he raised his sword once again. “Very well. Come on, Ulam. Looks like we got more fools with a death wish.”

  Ulam returned to Captain Karraman and stood in
an attacking posture, watching as the three newcomers entered the room. They stopped when they saw Ulam and immediately began whispering amongst themselves. The person dressed as a raven then stepped forward and took off their helmet, revealing a young, beautiful woman with pale skin and jet black hair.

  “Impossible…” A weak voice said from the back of the grand hall. “Do my eyes deceive me? This cannot be…“

  Ulam did not want to take his eyes off the woman in front of him, though she appeared to be unarmed. He could not believe the voice behind him came from Count Aldamar, a man who was the epitome of self-control. He risked turning around, only to discover Aldamar was directly behind him, with disbelief and shock written across his face.

  “No, Brother, your eyes do not deceive you,” the woman replied. Her voice was as sweet as honey, her dark eyes shining bright in the flames from the lanterns. “I see you still do not understand how to properly entertain guests.”

  Brother? Is that Morganna? Thousands of thoughts shot through Ulam’s mind, mostly pertaining to how this was possible. Does this mean the Mad Raven is Aldamar’s sister? I thought Count Aldamar killed her. Did he lie?

  “Morganna?” Aldamar said, his voice trembling. “But you are dead! I killed you myself! I stabbed you in the heart! How can this be?”

  “Please, Brother,” Morganna said with a sigh. “Always the dramatic one. I am sure you know how.”

  “No…”

  “Ulam!?” A new voice interrupted from outside the grand hall. “By the Gods, Ulam, is that you?”

  A fourth person walked in wearing a cloak made from a bear, a hideous helmet in one hand and a sword in the other. He had midnight black hair tied into a small ponytail at the nape of his neck and a full beard desperately in need of grooming. Dark circles had formed under his eyes, his mouth hung open. Though he was on the opposite side of the room, Ulam knew who had just called his name. He knew from the voice, the same voice he had heard his whole life.

  “Amantius!” Ulam said and took an involuntary step forward, only stopping when he saw the wolf and cougar draw their swords.

  “I’ve found you,” Amantius said and began to run forward, “I finally found you.”

  “Stop.” The man in the cougar helmet said, one arm holding a sword towards Ulam while the other grabbed Amantius by his cloak’s collar. “He is your enemy.”

  “Let go of me, Movan,” Amantius said as he struggled to break free. “Or I’ll kill you myself, you son of a bitch.”

  “Amantius, calm down,” Morganna said as she stepped back, placing a hand on his chest. “Movan is not your enemy, and Ulam is not ours. Everything will be fine, I promise.”

  Ulam stood perfectly still, seconds feeling like years. He waited for an opportunity to strike, to rescue Amantius. But as he watched his worst fears came to fruition, Amantius had clearly chosen the other side. Not only did his foster-brother not want to be saved, he did not feel as though he had to be. He saw Morganna’s hand gripping Amantius’ arm and noticed the way he reacted to her touch. He knew she had his heart and there was no chance he would choose the dry cordiality of Count Aldamar over her grace and charm.

  “Which side are you on, lad?” Captain Karraman said, interrupting both reunions unfolding in the grand hall. “Are you with us, or with them?”

  Amantius straightened, looking as though he was trying to say words that had not formed in his mind yet. Ulam could see the pleading in his eyes, begging him to join the Mad Raven. The thought disgusted him because switching sides would condemn both Captain Karraman and Count Aldamar to certain death. How could I betray them after all they have done for me? They accepted me for who, and what I am, and even trusted me with some of their secrets.

  “Is it not clear, Jalkett,” Count Aldamar said calmly, the previous panic completely gone from his voice, “Amantius has chosen to think with a different part of his body. My question is, can we trust, Ulam?”

  Ulam felt a flash of anger at Aldamar’s words, though he realized they were not entirely inappropriate. It was only right to question whether he would still protect the Count now that he knew Amantius was fighting for the Mad Raven. Ulam did not have an immediate answer because he could not organize his thoughts to properly make one. Before he could make a decision, he needed to know the answer to one simple question.

  “Why did you join them?” Ulam said. “Is the Count correct? Was it her beauty?”

  “No,” Amantius blurted out, “well, not originally. Sure, they captured me, but they also healed my wounds and so much more. They gave me shelter, they gave me food, and they gave me friendships. Just because the Countess and I are…it doesn’t matter!” He stepped forward and pointed a finger at the Count. “He’s the monster, Ulam! He murdered their entire family! You must believe me!”

  “The Count told me she murdered their whole family,” Ulam replied, surprised by the defiance in his voice, “Long ago she was attacked by some wicked creature in a cave and was corrupted by its bite. And then she slaughtered their whole village and feasted on the dead bodies of their neighbors.” That sounds insane spoken aloud. Maybe Amantius is right.

  Morganna began to laugh, each chuckle more vicious than the previous. “Is that what he has told you? That I killed our family and ate them? Brother, you always had quite the habit of exaggerating. No, my dear Ulam, he has simply fed you lies. He murdered everyone before trying to kill me, but his blade missed my heart. I even have proof.” Morganna slid her dress far enough down to show the silvery scar just above her left breast. “And I would have died as well if it was not for Jaga, always faithful Jaga.”

  “Jaga?” Count Aldamar said, “Jaga saved you?”

  Jaga. I know this name. He was the groundskeeper?

  “Yes, I did.” The wolf said as he removed his helmet. Though he was an older man, Ulam could sense the immense strength hiding behind the wrinkles.

  “You have betrayed me too, have you?” Count Aldamar said, a small hint of anger in his otherwise restrained voice. He bent over and picked up a sword, testing it for balance. “Very well, if I am to be surrounded by traitors at least I will not die without a fight.”

  “Excellent,” Morganna said as she stepped away, Amantius’ arm entangled in hers. “This is why we have come. Ulam, I extend upon you the protection I have given Amantius. If you wish to join me then I will not have you harmed in any way. Your brother has spoken highly of you ever since he woke up in our village, and I would very much like to keep him happy as well.” She signaled to her two other companions. “Jaga, Movan. Bring me my brother’s head.”

  In a flash, the room erupted in chaos once again, Captain Karraman fighting the one called Jaga to a standstill. Ulam was pushed aside as Count Aldamar locked into combat with the person named Movan. He was surprised by the ferocity the Count displayed, his attacks as graceful as a butterfly’s wings. Within moments Movan was cut down, Aldamar having used a combination of sword and dagger to slash him a dozen times over. In the other duel Captain Karraman was badly wounded by a vicious swing, blood streamed from a wound in his already hobbled leg.

  Without thinking Ulam rushed to his friend’s aide, determined to defend him at all costs. But before he could reach Karraman’s side he felt Jaga’s blade skid off the chain links of his mail. He countered with a strike of his own, one that was easily dodged. He was astounded by how fast Jaga was, especially for an old man in chainmail. Ulam swung wide again, connecting with a stone pillar in the middle of the room, sending an eruption of sparks shooting in every direction. Before he could recover from his swing he felt a blow to the back of his head, causing his legs to buckle and sending him crashing to the floor.

  Ulam’s world was spinning, his hearing hindered by a high-pitched ringing. He struggled to keep his eyes open, and when he could they would not focus. He was aware of Jaga’s presence beside him, ready to strike, but Ulam was not worried about his impending doom. He had systematically failed everything he had attempted since leaving Accaria. He did not
find any more Orcs, nor did he discover any of the world’s ancient ruins. He failed to rescue Amantius, failed to defend Count Aldamar, and failed to protect a defenseless Captain Karraman as well. Worst of all, however, he was breaking his oath to Pelecia, and that broke his heart. Forgive me, Mother. I do not deserve to live.

  Suddenly there was a scream beside him, followed by the heavy sound of metal hitting the ground. The presence that had been there was gone, replaced with a familiar shadow of purple and silver. A chorus of laments sounded, and then Ulam heard nothing. The world turned black.

  Amantius…

  Chapter 31

  Amantius

  How has this happened?

  Everything had gone according to plan. They entered Silverwater before the gates closed in the evening, dressed in everyday clothes. When night had fallen Jaga and Movan had taken all but a few people to the castle, while Amantius remained behind with Morganna and a few of her personal guards. After a few hours, Jaga returned to say the castle was all but taken, only Aldamar and a small group of those loyal still held out in the grand hall.

  “Was an Orc with them?” Amantius had asked.

  “Not that I have seen,” Jaga had replied, “Perhaps your brother is not here?”

  Jaga had then escorted them to the castle, while Amantius split away so he could search for Ulam. He had checked every room thoroughly, including the bodies that were strewn about the floors. He had felt his heart stop every time he had spotted a new figure motionless on the floor, praying silently that it was not Ulam. He had been in the foyer when he had heard the sounds of battle coming from the grand hall, and had immediately rushed inside with hope and panic swirling in his heart.

  And then he had seen him.

  A whirlwind of emotions had stirred upon seeing Ulam, specifically relief, hope, and fear. He had been supremely confident Ulam would switch sides, that he would lay down his axe and allow Jaga and Movan to capture Count Aldamar. All he had to do in order to convince him was to tell him the truth, to tell him that Aldamar was a murderer and have Morganna validate his story. Ever since they were children Ulam had been the more logical of the duo, always making decisions based on facts instead of impulses. When presented with evidence from a firsthand source, he knew the Orc would see the error of his ways and join Morganna’s cause.