Free The Dragon of Time: Gods and Dragons by Aaron Dennis

here in the same room as my enemy, the
enemy of all of Kulshedra. Let’s take this outside.”
    Scar dropped his bowl letting the contents
splash over the floor.
    “Ugh, I just cleaned over there,” the young
Draco complained with a roll of his orange eyes.
    The mercenary started his way to the door,
but Labolas placed the back of his forearm against Scar’s ribs. The
look on the archer’s face was stern. Scar watched as Labolas stared
down his countrymen.
    “I’m trying to reason with you. I understand
your sentiments, but this man is not our enemy. He was only hired
and misled by our true enemy, Zoltek,” Labolas explained.
    “This doesn’t sit well with me,” the woman
said with flaring eyes.
    “We’ll be leaving for Tironis in just a
little while,” Labolas added. “Let me buy you food and drink.”
    “Food and drink don’t bring back our
friends,” the old Kulshedran argued.
    Again the boardinghouse grew quiet. Rapid
breaths were the only audible sounds. Scar’s eyes mellowed as did
Labolas’s. The old Kulshedran’s words were a point that rang quite
true, yet there was no need for anyone to draw blood that day. Only
a moment of deliberation passed before the soldiers conceded to
their superior and staid their weapons.
    “Thank you,” Labolas said. “Apologies, bar
keep. We’ll go wait for the cart outside.”
    “I think that’d be best,” the bar tender
replied.
    The archer left a few coins in the opened
palms of his kin then he motioned to Scar to move out. He winced
and followed Labolas, who took the bowl he had been holding
outdoors. The Kulshedrans did not take their eyes off the
mercenary, but their anger did cool after ingesting a free
meal.
    “Such hostility,” Scar remarked.
    The sun shone brightly outside. The day was
already hot. Sipping his stew beneath the awning, the archer turned
to Scar.
    “You’d best get used to a rough reception
until you speak with Gilgamesh,” Labolas said.
    “Right,” he answered and then gave a pause in
deliberation. “What, exactly, am I to expect? Will most Dracos and
Kulshedrans be ready to draw steel?”
    Labolas vacillated, placed his empty bowl on
a wooden bench against the longhouse exterior wall, and folded his
arms. He remained silent for a moment while Scar observed him. The
man was in obvious thought. Finally, Labolas spoke slowly as though
extra careful to enunciate his words, to clarify his meaning.
    “I believe that some will crave vengeance,
but most others wish only for peace. In the cities, the places
furthest from war, you’ll see just how agreeable the Kulshedrans
are. These wars have gone on long enough. We are all tired of
fighting, but like it or not, you are a key player, a catalyst of
sorts.
    “That being said, only the few who wish to
avenge their kinsmen will be quick to seek a skirmish, although I
think guards and patrolmen might raise some issues.” Labolas
chuckled after finishing his thoughts. Scar didn’t find any humor
in his predicament. The archer then stared fiercely into Scar’s
gray eyes. “Tell me, Brandt, what is it you wish for, peace or
war?”
    While Scar considered the question, a gust of
wind ruffled the wiry grasses surrounding the area and kicked up
tiny dust clouds. He stepped away from the longhouse, placed his
hand over his brow to shield his eyes from the sunlight, and
scanned his surroundings. There were tannish mountains far to the
east. The immediate terrain was slightly hilly.
    Labolas broke the silence, saying, “It is not
a simple question, admittedly. To secure peace, to secure Alduheim
as Gilgamesh seeks, is an act of war, and even after driving back
the Khmeran forces, we will still have to fight the Zmajans. Our
alliance with the Dracos is not total, so there will always be some
issue. Of course, this is the whole point, isn’t it, to end as many
of these issues as possible.”
    Before Scar answered, the sound of the
longhouse doors dispelled their thoughts. Two warriors of Drac