The Dragon of Time: Gods and Dragons (17 page)

Numerous buildings of all sizes loomed over
the streets. Scar gazed down dark alleys shadowed by tall lamps.
There were guards on foot and horses everywhere. Invading such a
city was obviously suicide. One notable difference between the
capitol and other Kulshedran cities was that the guards in Tironis
wore steel breastplates instead of the studded leathers worn by the
soldiers in the field.
I guess soldiers are expendable. Is that
how a king runs his military?

Scar grew more and more anxious about the
fact that everyone thought he was supposed to become King of
Alduheim. He did not have the slightest clue as to how to behave or
what kind of decisions had to be made. He looked up into the starry
sky and sighed.

They continued riding in silence beyond loud
taverns with light bursting through the windows, past men and woman
heading home or perhaps to work late shifts. There were stores,
too, with wooden signs indicating their type of business;
seamstresses, smiths, general grocers, butchers, barbers, bakers,
and so on.

“This is the Commerce District,” Labolas said
unexpectedly.

“Where are we going? Scar asked. “I mean
obviously the palace, but where is it?”

“Inneshkigal, the impregnable palace is in
the King’s District. The palace is quite large and houses all of
the noble gentry. Everyone who has anything to do with the
country’s resources, politics, or governing decisions lives in the
palace. We’ll pass through the Military District on the way,”
Labolas explained.

It took minutes of trotting over streets and
taking corners between large buildings before reaching the Military
District, which was mostly immense bunkers used to house the city
guards or soldiers. There were also offices not unlike Eresh; long
buildings with many numbered doors. Fewer men and women meandered
through that area, but there were plenty of soldiers. Most of them
wore studded leathers and carried short swords, but there were
still mounted guards in breastplates.

“Not a lot of other tribesmen, here,” the
mercenary commented.

“No,” the archer agreed. “You’ll find them in
other districts. The city is full of them.”

By then, the palace was in view. It was an
ornate sight to behold. Inneshkigal was also walled in, and though
the inner walls were shorter than Tironis’s exterior, they were
sanded down to a smoother finish and with slanted tops. Only the
slightest of seams were visible in the grand stonework. Before the
main entrance were more mounted guards, gas lamps in obelisks, and
twin statues of a great serpent wrapping up a lion reared onto its
hind legs.

“Documents,” a guard asked.

“Right here,” Labolas replied anticipating
the request.

The captain’s men all came to a halt as the
guard looked over the parchment.

He handed it back to Labolas and asked,
“Business?”

“We seek council with Gilgamesh.”

“Right. Move into the courtyard, and the
servants will handle your mounts.”

“Thank you,” the archer smiled.

Beyond the walls of Inneshkigal was a vast,
round expanse of hard packed, pinkish soil. Servants in drab
clothing immediately approached and took the reins of the mounts.
One of the young Kulshedran assistants gawked at Scar.

“What?” he barked jokingly.

“Nothing,” the boy quickly said then mumbled,
“this poor horse.”

Scar chuckled as he dismounted. Once off the
beast, he noticed Hachi and Maranjo had stayed on their horses by
the entrance.

“They are not coming?”

“No need. I won’t be long, and then we have
to ride out,” Labolas fussed.

“No time for a break?”

“Not for poor Labolas,” the archer
sighed.

He led Scar past the servants and down a
cobbled street that rounded a gray fountain sculpted in the form of
four serpents facing the cardinal directions. Surrounding the water
spewing serpents was a white circle of stones and around the stones
were many colorful flowers. They did not look like any of the flora
Scar had seen so far. On the outskirts of the round expanse were
arched entryways illuminated by gas lamps, but Scar was unable to
see where those entrances led.

Some dogs barked from inside the homes. Scar
dusted his hands on his singed trousers and followed Labolas, who
moved to the large, arched entry at the far end of the courtyard
opposite the primary entrance. More guards lined the doorway; they
wore studded leathers, yellow skirts, and carried spears. After a
quick sideways glance at Scar, they returned their eyes
forward.

Inside the palace was a foyer, another semi
open area wherein servants walked around either cleaning the
statues, paintings, and tapestries, or neatly rearranging flowers,
decorative jars, and vases on small wooden tables. Gas lamps in
sconces built into the interior walls cast a bright, yellow glow.
It complemented the sandy finish of the stonework. Everything had a
golden sheen to it.

“This is it then?” Scar was awestricken by
the Kulshedran architecture.

“This is it.” Labolas smiled cordially and
placed his hand on his friend’s wrist. He gave him a full but
cursory glance. “Now, you’re going to march in there and meet with
our land’s greatest warrior. Ask him whatever you please, but be
respectful; a king is always polite and calm. You are a king, my
friend. Go, now. Show Gilgamesh the man I am glad to call my
friend.”

Labolas turned around and walked right out of
the foyer into the chilly evening to meet with his father’s men,
thus leaving Scar to observe the palace guards who returned
scrutiny. After a moment, a woman emerged from the hall, which ran
parallel to the foyer at the far end where a blue rug covered the
stone floor. She wore a long, gray dress that danced about her
feet. Her bronze tone and round features were amplified by her
black, curly hair, which hung loosely about her shoulders.

“You are Brandt of Alduheim,” she said
softly.

“I am, and you are?”

“I am called Ehrloime, and it will be my
pleasure to escort you to our Lord’s chambers.”

“Thank you, Lady Ehrloime,” Scar said with a
modest nod.

The young woman smiled and batted her long
lashes. Her peaceful green eyes were jovial, and Scar could not
help but smile.

As they started to walk Scar apologized for
his appearance, saying, “I have traveled long and far to meet with
King Gilgamesh and the road has been a weary one.”

“I’m sure,” she commented while they traipsed
through corridors.

The walls were covered in paintings. Between
many of them were gas lamps keeping the whole of the palace
illuminated. Turning a corner, they passed down another corridor
laden with statues. Some servants walked around them. They also
wore gray dresses or pants with tunics laced about the neck.
Everyone appeared jovial and polite. None of them gave Scar more
than a respectful glance.

“I am surprised your Lord Gilgamesh is
willing to meet with me at such a late hour,” Scar said observing
their calm demeanor.

“It is no trouble, I assure you. He has
waited patiently for quite some time now,” Ehrloime replied.

“If you don’t mind my asking, what do you do
for the king?”

“I am one of a few servants trusted enough to
escort my Lord’s guests. I also relay the needs of others in the
palace. Everything goes through me,” she chirped.

Scar mused over how completely different were
the operations of Usaj. They were all a very militant people. No
beautiful women held such esteemed positions. Any arrangement with
Zoltek had to be routed through one of his personal warriors.
During his rumination, they reached an airy chamber with a blue
strip of carpeting, which ran from the front entrance to the
throne. It was a stone chair with blue cushions. The tall back was
carved to resemble a looming serpent with open maw.

Behind the throne stood two, large guards
wearing steel breastplates over gray clothing. They carried tower
shields, but did not appear to hold any weapons. They were stern
individuals with perpetual scowls. While Scar looked them over, a
figure descended stairs from the left side of the room.

Once the man cleared the arched stairway and
approached the throne, it was evident that he was Gilgamesh. The
King of Satrone was not a large Kulshedran. He was dark, almost
copperish, wore steel boots, a short golden robe that did not hide
a breastplate very well, bracers on both wrists, and he had a
thick, black mustache that ran down around his lips and to both
sides of his chin. It framed his frown in a manner that accentuated
his sloped brow creating the very image of a wise, sullen
warrior.

“This is the one?” Gilgamesh asked as he
approached.

His voice was deep and heavy and though the
skin of his neck and hands belied his age, his face was smooth and
peaceful. Dark eyes gazed from beneath black eyebrows. Gilgamesh’s
hair was thick, black, curly, and pulled back high in a
topknot.

“Yes, my Lord. This is Brandt of Alduheim,”
Ehrloime stated.

“You may go,” he replied.

The lady of the palace bowed her head and
exited the room, leaving Scar with the king and his guards. The
flames of gas lights burned quietly. A soft breeze circulated
within the throne room.

“It is quite an honor to meet you, King
Gilgamesh,” Scar said with a subtle smile.

“Please, such formalities are bothersome. You
will call me Gilgamesh, and I will call you Brandt.”

Scar remained politely quiet for a moment
then added, “If that is your wish. Labolas has told me much of the
world, of Kulshedra, Satrone, and your leadership. He has become my
friend.”

“I am glad to hear it,” Gilgamesh said and
sat on his throne. He extended his legs and relaxed his regal
bearing before leaning his elbow on the armrest. He then rested his
cheek against his closed fist. Prior to any elucidation, Gilgamesh
made a movement with his other hand to the men behind him. They
walked hurriedly out of sight and returned with a wooden chair for
the guest.

“Thank you,” Scar said and sat down when they
placed it behind him.

“We are not a boorish people like the
Zmajans. No doubt Zoltek had you bowing before him wanting you to
lick his boots.”

As Gilgamesh spoke, the men returned to their
posts. Scar tried to relax in the chair, but it was a bit small for
his stature, and the wood creaked.

“Your cultures are very different,” Scar
agreed.

“Zoltek does not seek peace…I do not believe
that Sahni seeks peace either. Do you seek peace, Brandt?”

“I do, yes. Through Labolas’s eyes I have
seen a world that begs for it, and if I truly am instrumental to
this effect, I will gladly offer my services, but as you no doubt
know, all I want is to know who I am, from where I came, and what
is expected of me as King of Alduheim. I am but a bladesman…I, I do
not know what I can do as King.”

“I am glad to hear you speak so sincerely,”
Gilgamesh replied. He then grew extraordinarily quiet. The king
even half closed his eyes. His lower lip drooped a little. Scar
thought he was falling asleep in the middle of conversation when
the man suddenly perked up and spoke. “These are dire times. We are
all so drained by this war. The citizens are tired. The farmers are
tired. The soldiers are tired, and
I
am tired, but our
enemies are not. They are relentless.

“Unfortunately, there is still much to be
done…so much to be done, in fact, it feels as though the work will
never end. I’m certain you hoped to come before me and receive
answers to all your questions. If only it were so simple,
Brandt.

“I must apologize to you. Though I have
spoken to Kulshedra on your behalf, he has informed me that you are
unknown to him…a strange anomaly, yet I believe he accepts your
service. He has a plan, you see, and together we will build you a
future. Pray, let your past, whatever it may have been, fall to the
wayside.”

Scar winced, obviously annoyed, and without
saying as much, spoke frankly to the king, “Labolas had insinuated
that I was, or my family had been, part of an old kingdom with whom
your own family was acquainted.”

“Yes. Our rich family history has been
documented and passed on from ruler to heir for generations. My
father told me of how Alduheim and what is now Satrone joined
forces to defeat the Dragons. It was our unwavering faith to
Kulshedra that served to that end, but the predecessors of Sahni
betrayed Kulshedra, slayed the rightful heir to the throne of
Alduheim, and took the castle for themselves.

“All of our people fought, but against the
might of Khmer and her allies, we were driven out of Alduheim.
Inneshkigal was erected in the name of King Innesh and Tironis was
built in honor of his first born son who fell to Khmeran forces,
and all of Satrone was built around Tironis. We are a proud and
loyal people, Brandt.”

“What does this mean for me?” Scar asked in
disbelief.

“It means that now is the time to take back
Alduheim.”

“Then we are to defeat Khmeran forces?”

“That will be instrumental in delivering
peace, but we must also defeat Zoltek.”

“Taking back Alduheim will help to that
effect as well?”

“My information states such
unequivocally.”

“Can you explain it to me? I am afraid I do
not understand.”

“Think of it this way,” Gilgamesh began with
great patience. “Taking back Alduheim and restoring it to a true
kingdom will brandish the might of Kulshedra. It will foster new
alliances, and with no more of my forces fighting endlessly to
enter that old kingdom, we can devote more power to the south.
Furthermore, there is a great deal of hidden knowledge in that
ancient, buried castle. That is why Jagongo has sent explorers to
the area. It is why Sahni has been trying to hold it. It is why
Zoltek has sent his covert forces.”