The Dragon of Time: Gods and Dragons (39 page)

“Does me no good now, does it,” he
barked.

“You’re angry and hurt. I get that; my king
and my father sent me out to die…not quite the same, I know, but I
understand your plight. Still, there’s no need to wander down a
dark path…I told you, I’m your friend…no matter what.”

“And?”

“You should talk about her…when you’re
ready.”

The sound of the sloop splashing and waves
smacking the sides drowned out everything else. Scar inhaled the
salty air, laid back comfortably, and thanked Labolas for his
friendship.

****

“Sarkany…you have returned.”

Scar didn’t care that he was back. He didn’t
care that at that time he remembered everything that had transpired
during the other meetings with Eternus, because he also remembered
his inability to recollect while in the world of daily affairs.
Opting for silence, the mercenary sat down on the plateau, and
gazed into the expanse of darkness, but there were no twinkling
stars there, just vorteces of blackness.

“Your loss is a tragedy,” the booming voice
stated. “But such is the way of the world.”

“What a terrible platitude.”

“Peace, Dragon Slayer. Now you are ready to
face your destiny. You will claim the gem of truth from
Gilgamesh.”

“The king has it?” Scar interrupted.

“All of them have their respective gems.”

“Will I remember?”

“Irrelevant. You will see it when you fight
Gilgamesh, and you will know what to do. Place it in the blade, and
that alone will transport you to Drangue, the realm of truth. There
you will slay the beast, and his soul will enter your blade. Once
you have them all, you will come back to me in your totality.”

“And the Gods? How can I kill them?”

“That would be a catastrophe. Without their
guiding principles, men well cease to exist.”

“Why should I care?”

“You may have lost your love, but you still
have friends, and they, too, have loved ones. Please, Sarkany, do
as you’re told…had you done so from the beginning, your tragedies
might have been averted.”

“You’re a fool, Dragon,” he shouted. “How
could I have done such with no memories? You created a flaw, but
that flaw has its own life. I will do as I please.”

“So you say, but everything that has
transpired inadvertently placed you right where I wanted you.”

“Bah,” Scar spat.

He felt the sting of tears, but none fell
from his eyes. In Eternus’s realm, he was unable to cry.

“Though you still find it difficult, try to
trust me. You may not like what you are, what
we
are, but
once you slay Kulshedra, everything will become clear.”

“I only want to try to find Ylithia’s
soul.”

“It is gone, spent by the Dragon to
strengthen his worshipers. Go now, Dragon Slayer, fulfill my
desires.”

****

Scar awoke to Labolas arguing with the old
coot. The sun had not yet risen, and Valiant wanted more sleep.

“Pilot your own damned ship,” Labolas
snarled.

“Stupid, boy,” Valiant mumbled.

“I’m almost forty!”

“Would you two stow it? Both of you get some
rest. I’ll handle the sail,” Scar affirmed. He stomped over to take
the tiller. “What do I do?”

“Jus’ hold her steady an’ let the wind take
her as she goes. Keep the shoreline in your sights, an’ you’re good
as gold,” Valiant instructed.

He watched Scar for a moment to be certain he
understood. Once satisfied, he went to the aft and peed into the
sea. Then he went back to sleep.

“He’s a delight,” Labolas sneered.

Scar shook his head. The trip had turned out
to be much more annoying than anticipated. All he really wanted to
do was kill Gilgamesh, but instead he was left to stew.

“You seem to be enjoying these stupid games
with the old man,” Scar commented.

“Enjoy-enjoying?” Labolas exclaimed. “It’s
all I can do not to feather him.”

“You could, you know?”

“What, kill him and take the ship?” Labolas
asked, a smile playing on his lips. “I’ve considered it….” The
archer scrutinized the old man. Then he looked at Scar wondering if
the mercenary had been kidding. “Not like you to want to kill
someone for no reason.” Scar shrugged. “Dream again?”

“Yes, but I can never remember them. I just
wake with the feeling I’m supposed to do something.”

“Kill Dragons?”

“Kill Dragons,” Scar agreed.

Labolas laid down to make himself as
comfortable as possible. He watched wispy clouds roll in overhead.
Morning was soon to come, and although he was tired, his mind was
restless.

“I wonder what will happen if we do kill
Kulshedra,” he said.

Scar wondered likewise, but his thoughts
meandered. For a time, there was nothing to think about. He closed
his eyes trying to remember Ylithia’s warm body, her flowing hair,
her sweet, caring personality. An odd thought then struck the
mercenary, a thought that seemed out of place.

“You once told me your father knows
everything about everyone.”

“Yes,” Labolas agreed as he rolled onto his
side, kicked the excess rigging away from his feet then tossed onto
his other side and grumbled.

“What if your father knew about Hachi’s
poison,” Scar said.

“What do you mean?”

“What if he knew Hachi couldn’t kill you, if
he intended for you to get away?”

Labolas jumped up to a sitting position.
“He’s the one who started me taking small doses of poisons when I
was young. My God, you could be right.” The archer’s eyes darted
about as he tried to piece the puzzle together. “He might have
known all along that Hachi wasn’t working for him. That would mean
he either wanted me to flee, or even return to Alduheim to find the
truth…he may have never trusted Gilgamesh.”

“It is possible,” Scar started, but stopped
for a second to reclaim his train of thought. He made a smacking
sound with his lips before continuing. “It is possible that he
wanted to make sure you lived, perhaps just to keep you away from
Satrone….”

“I don’t know. What purpose would that
serve?”

“You get to live without being caught up in
these dreadful wars.”

“That’s what you wanted, isn’t it, a normal
life with Ylithia?”

“After I met her, yes…before I met her, I
just wanted to know who I was. You were right, you know, you said
it didn’t matter who I was, only who I wanted to be. Shamara had
said as much. I wanted to be a husband, but that has been stolen
from me, and now neither kings nor Dragons will have a moment’s
rest. Scar is coming.”

“You’ve given me some peace of mind by
providing the possibility that my father really does love me. Let
me do you the same. Don’t let these Dragons turn you into a cold
blooded killer. That isn’t who you are, that much I know.”

They grew silent. Labolas eventually fell
asleep. Scar beheld the sun emerge from the sea. Waves of orange
radiance washed over the entire horizon then exploded into a
brilliant yellow. It was a beautiful sight.

Later on, after the other two awoke, and
Valiant took the sails again, Scar asked Labolas—in hushed
whispers—what he knew about the others from his former party.

“Nothing, really. Marlayne is under the
direct protection of Longinus. He’s a smart man, but she’s a shrewd
woman. If she doesn’t feel he’s up to believing her stories of
Alduheim, she’ll keep her lips shut. N’Giwah may have persuaded
more Tiamatish into the castle. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn
that Jagongo started some kind of anti Dragon movement, but then
again, being Tiamatish, she might keep it to herself. That just
leaves Borta, and literally no one knows where he vanished to. He
supposedly took a ship back to Balroa and that’s the end of
it.”

“What about the other countries? Have they
reorganized their allegiances?” Scar asked.

“Doubtful,” Labolas answered while tying his
hair back. “Hashnora has no reason to break ties with Gilgamesh,
but he may well be supporting Sahni for unknown reasons. I think
it’s likely that more of the rulers know now that something
important was discovered in Alduheim. If we don’t act soon, they’re
going to destroy themselves.”

“They need ta’ talk it out,” Valiant chimed
in. “Nothin’ ever gets solved with a blade.”

“Want to bet?” Scar asked.

“Eh…after revenge is an empty feelin’, I
tells ya’.”

“I guess I should talk to my lover’s
killers,” Scar scoffed.

“Nope, some men need a killin’, but that’s
fer personal reasons. When it comes ta’ kings and countries,
someone’s gotta be the mediator, and ain’t no one better’n
Longinus…’cept maybe his dad, but he’s dead now.”

Labolas shook his head before restarting the
conversation about the rulers and Alduheim. “What I was trying to
say is that everyone is going to send legions into Alduheim.
They’ll fight each other, betray each other, or worse, they’ll see
what you and I have seen…the countries might implode,” Labolas
explained.

“Would that be so bad?” Scar asked.

“I think yes,” he answered. “Something like
this has to be handled with tact.”

“Is that what we’re doing?” the mercenary
jeered.

“I sure hope so,” the archer sighed.

Four more days of arguing with Captain
Valiant passed on with excruciating deliberation. He was a
halfcocked old coot, but he had lived a long time and witnessed
many trials from the neutral standpoint of Fafnirians. Upon
examining the situation, Scar found it odd that some of the
Dragons, Fafnir and Tiamat particularly, didn’t send their
followers to war.
How do they increase their powers?
He
wondered, but there was no way to know.

One morning, while Labolas yelled at the old
man for pooping over the side of the vessel in the middle of
conversation, Scar saw the mountains of Eltanrof looming in the
distance. They were almost opaque against the blue sky sprawling
out over the northern horizon. They had sailed for almost five long
days, and Aldurstun, Valiant had said, was only hours away.

“Wipe your arse and point me in the right
direction,” Scar snipped.

“Hold your horses, now,” the old man
laughed.

He then corrected Scar’s course and told him
to let the current pull them around the southern edge of Eltanrof.
Three hours later, just after the sun shone down on them from
directly overhead, dark specks manifested in the horizon.

“That’s it, over there,” Valiant said
pointing. “Current’ll do most o’ the work, now. When I tells ya’,
ya’ll get the paddles an’ I’ll roll the sail up.”

“At long last, we’ll be rid of this crazed
codger,” Labolas joked.

“Not until ya’ give me my payment,” he
replied with a firm finger.

“Right…hoped you’d forgotten.”

Labolas got the captain’s second payment
ready. By the time other vessels grew visible at the docks in the
distance, Valiant rolled up the sails and the warriors started
paddling. Another hour later and they were securing rigging to
cleats in Aldurstun, a bustling port city with irate Dracos eyeing
their new arrivals.

The Kulshedran kept his cowl back to present
the idea of peace; they were still allies after all. Mostly, they
eyed Scar, or at least his amazing armor.

“Last time they looked at me with covetous
eyes I had to kill fifty of them,” Scar remarked.

“Don’t kill anybody here. We still need to
procure rides to River Rock,” Labolas instructed.

“Head ta’ The Broken Barrel,” Valiant said.
“You’ll find what ya’ need there.”

“A tavern?” Scar asked.

“Yep, matter of fact, if’n ya’ follow me, I’m
headed there myself.”

“You’re not going home?” Labolas asked.

“Hell no,” the old man yelled. “I jus’ sailed
for five days. Need ta’ get my land legs back!”

He laughed uproariously at his own comment.
They looked at him askewed, but said nothing. Passing freckled dock
workers in kilts, the newcomers braved the chilly, packed, dirt
roads of Aldurstun to the tavern. The layout was reminiscent of
pretty much any tavern; stools at the bar filled by boisterous men,
chairs and tables where families enjoyed food, a warm fire at the
center like the one at the longhouse west of Oros. Apart from the
rounded Draco rooves, which looked like overturned boats, the
environment was similar to every other city outside of Usaj.

“Get some food, I’ll find horses somewhere,”
Labolas stated and went off to mingle.

Valiant gave Scar a big smile. He ordered
scotch and began the arduous process of reclaiming his land
legs.

“Ain’t you supposed to be the King of
Alduheim?” the barkeeper, a rough and tumble Draco with unkempt,
red hair, asked.

“Was supposed to be,” Scar answered
dryly.

“Drown your sorrows with this,” the man said
and poured him a scotch, too.

Scar nodded and gulped it down. As he paid
for another drink, Labolas returned to his side.

“We can borrow horses for a small fee
provided someone in River Rock returns them by the week’s end,” he
said.

“How do we manage that?”

Labolas flicked his wrist implying it was of
little matter. “We just need to ride out as soon as possible.”

“I’m ready now.”

“Me too,” he agreed. “Old codger, it’s been
fun. Don’t get yourself killed.”

“Ya’ boys be careful,” Valiant said with a
raised glass.

The travelers left the pub. Scar followed
Labolas to the stables, nodding his head to those who stared a bit
too long for comfort. The wicked sight of a giant, scarred man in
black leathers with antlers on his head was sufficient to dissuade
any comment even from Dracos. Upon arriving at the stables, Labolas
asked for someone called McCormick. An old man with a limp
acknowledged his name and approached.

“What can I do for you?” he asked while
stomping horse crap off his boot.