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

came
out. Labolas recognized them from the night before. They had
apparently spent the night. A crunching sound from their boots over
soil held Scar’s attention. They nodded and smiled to the mercenary
and Kulshedran.
    “Heard a travelin’ merchant is comin’ by cart
soon,” the Draco man said.
    Scar nodded to him replying, “I think he is
already here, somewhere.”
    They all looked to Labolas as though he had a
clue. He replied with a shrug of indifference. The Draco man smiled
politely. He was not too tall, perhaps six feet, pale and freckly
with locks of auburn hair and a fiery, but neatly trimmed beard.
Both he and the woman warrior bore brands from heated irons on only
their right arm and shoulder.
    “This is Eileen, and I’m called Alistair. We
heard a bit about you not bein’ an enemy,” Alistair said.
    Eileen, who was a rather squat and powerful
looking woman, adjusted her leather armor and shook auburn hair
from her face. Scar saw similar features on their round faces.
    “Since it seems we’ll be travelin’ together
for a bit…,” Eileen said and trailed off before continuing. Her
brother gave her a nod and she resumed her thought. “We might as
well start off as allies rather than foes.”
    “Excellent,” Labolas cheered. “You see,
Brandt, there are as many of us wishing for a resolution to this
endless combat.”
    Scar smiled and shook both hands with both
Alistair and Eileen, asking, “Are you two traveling to
Tironis?”
    “Nay,” Alistair replied. “We’ve pelts to
trade in Osor, Talion, and Faroos.”
    “Towns along the river Iles,” Labolas
interjected.
    “Pelts?” Scar asked and looked at his
compatriot with wonder.
    “There’s always a war going on, but not
everyone is at war, you see? People still need pelts,” Labolas
explained.
    Scar contemplated. It made sense, yet he was
unable to shake the feeling that it was meaningless. The look on
his face conveyed his bewilderment.
    “Did you really not know that people trade
goods?” Eileen asked.
    “This world is unknown to me,” Scar
sighed.
    They remained quiet for a time. Huddled
beneath the boardinghouse’s awning for shade, they heard muffled
voices from inside bleed through the shutters. The mercenary looked
around. There wasn’t much to see other than the rocky ground and a
few small, puffy clouds in an otherwise blue sky.
    He felt a nudge against his ribs. Labolas was
looking down the trail to the east. A small shape loomed in the
distance. After a moment it became evident that it was the horse
drawn cart. Labolas was pointing.
    “I thought he was already here,” Scar
mumbled.
    “Well, he’s here now, what difference does it
make?” Labolas retorted.
    That time it was Scar’s turn to give an
uncaring shrug.
    “I’ll get our supplies,” Eileen stated.
    Alistair said nothing, but joined her. They
entered the longhouse.
    “I have much to learn,” Scar said. “The
Zmajans are a bloodthirsty people by comparison.”
    Labolas nodded and smiled. His expression was
one of patience, understanding.
    “A good king does more than order his
subjects around. He does more than wage war. It will be good for
you to comprehend the intricacies of trade,” he said.
    “You really believe that I am meant to be
King of Alduheim?”
    “What I believe is inconsequential. I follow
my orders, but Gilgamesh is a good ruler.”
    Scar frowned and tried to search his
feelings, to arrange his thoughts. His mood was a bit somber though
he did not know why. Zoltek, Dragons, Gods, to be King…what is
this place…who am I, really? Do I want to be a king? His
thoughts were cut short when the Draco siblings exited the
longhouse with crates of pelts. Most of them were small. Scar
assumed the animals of the area, Satrone, Usaj, and Eltanrof, were
smaller animals like rabbits and foxes. He had not seen many
animals except for some goats in Usaj, and some birds on the road.
By then, the cart was nearly upon them.
    Two, tall, wiry horses of