The Dragon of Time: Gods and Dragons (18 page)

“I don’t understand why Sahni hasn’t wielded
that knowledge against you if it is there,” Scar interrupted.

Gilgamesh allowed his eyes to relax again. He
was in a very strange state of immobility, which made Scar
uncomfortable. It was almost like the man was completely drunk for
just a moment. Then the king opened his eyes wide and spoke again
before relaxing his appearance.

“All I know in that respect for certain is
that no one has been able to find the hidden knowledge since the
keep has been buried, and that has been a long time…since before my
father’s rule, but now you are here, and I believe you are
indispensable in acquiring that knowledge.”

“How? You said Kulshedra does not even know
me.”

“Truth, but I know that you did come from
somewhere, from a people whom I had been taught were all persecuted
and killed by Khmerans and with that strange sword. I am told there
are places that no one can enter in that buried castle. I am also
convinced that you will find a way…. N’Giwah believes he will find
a way, but I am certain he will not. In one form or another,
Labolas will see to that. This brings us to what exactly I expect
of you, but first I want you to understand that it will be your
choice. I pray only that you will do what is right for
everyone.”

“What do you mean?” Scar asked while crossing
his left shin over his right knee and leaning forward.

“You will march due north with a squadron of
my men. You will fight your way inside Alduheim, defeating every
Khmeran you see, and you will find the hidden knowledge. With it,
we will raise Alduheim to its proper place in the world, and I am
certain that in doing so everything else will fall into place.”

“But what is this knowledge? How will I find
it, or even know I have found it, and won’t there be many out there
who either wish to see Alduheim remain a shambles, or worse, fight
with all their strength to usurp it again?” Scar asked raising his
voice with passion.

Gilgamesh slowly nodded, saying, “Truthfully,
all of what you have conceived is possible, but that is the way of
the world. If there are no good men willing to fight for what is
just, then we are all already doomed. For the moment, we must play
the hand we are dealt. I ask that you carry this mission out for
me, and in turn you will have Satrone at your disposal in order to
raise Alduheim. After that, I can only hope that our allegiance
will start to etch away at the foundations of war. Brick by brick,
we will lay a foundation of peace.

“So far as what that knowledge is, or how you
can ascertain you’ve found it, I can say only that you will know
when the time is right. Kulshedra has not revealed much on that
matter, I am afraid.”

Scar relaxed back in his chair and pondered
the proposition of the man before him. Gilgamesh was certainly
determined to see peace, but Scar felt uneasy. There were so many
questions playing through his mind:
Does he not see that Khmer
and Kulshedra must be Dragons? Their might is equal. Does he not
fear this hidden knowledge? Why was it hidden? Does it truly exist?
What will he do with it? He certainly did not mention giving it to
me…no. I believe his wish is to wield Alduheim for his own
purposes, and what about my sword? Why did he mention it…what
should I do?

“You ponder, Brandt,” Gilgamesh spoke
suddenly.

“Yes,” Scar replied. “Of course I do.”

“That is good. Rash decisions pave the road
to failure. I will do my utmost to put you at ease. First, I will
return your blade as a gesture of good will,” Gilgamesh said and
snapped his fingers. Again the guards ran off then quickly returned
with something large wrapped in white cloth. They revealed Scar’s
sword and handed it to him. As he looked over it, Gilgamesh spoke
again. “You may lead my men as you see fit. They are to respect you
as King. Among them are scholars, so you must do your best to keep
them alive. They will help you find the hidden knowledge, and if
you can recover it, you have my resources to rebuild your kingdom.
There is little else with which I can provide you.”

“Why a small force? Why not a large one?”

“I must hold my borders lest someone like the
Ghost of Zmaj decimate them,” Gilgamesh smiled shrewdly.
“Furthermore, there are many other soldiers already fighting in
Alduheim. Rest assured, with your prowess and my men, entering the
keep will not be difficult.”

Scar considered the proposal. There was
simply no other way to go if he did in fact want to enter Alduheim.
But do I need to enter Alduheim? Naturally, I wonder what this
hidden knowledge is, and if there is a clue as to who I am, or who
my people were, I should surely like to know.
He held his sword
firmly and gazed at it. The light of gas lamps danced over the
glistening steel. A vague feeling like half remembered dreams
gnawed at Scar, and for a second he wanted to dash over and cut the
king down in one stroke. That force almost overtook him, but
Gilgamesh spoke again, and Scar’s attention was returned to the
world.

“Do this for the benefit of humanity. There
are so many out there counting on you.”

“Yes…I must enter Alduheim…it calls to
me.”

Thus the meeting with the great Gilgamesh
concluded. The regal King of Satrone stood and lithely walked back
to the stairs and out of sight. The two guards approached Scar.
They stood by menacingly. He looked at them for a second and was
unsure how to proceed.

“The chair, your grace,” one of them said in
a raspy tone.

Scar winced and stood. They took the chair,
and while the mercenary watched them, he heard a voice call.

“King Brandt?”

He turned to see Ehrloime had come up behind
him. She closed her eyes halfway and smiled.

“Yes, Lady?” he asked and rested his sword on
his bulging shoulder.

“I will now take you to meet with Strategist
Poland.”

He nodded and followed her all the way back
out to the foyer. There waited an old Kulshedran with a ring of
grayed hair. He was thin and wiry with a slight bulge at his
midsection. Covered with only a long, beige robe, the man walked up
and greeted Scar effusively by clasping his wrist and shaking
hands.

“Greetings, greetings, young King. I am
Poland, one of General Sulas’s confidants. I had heard of your
meeting and am aware of your council with our king,” the man said
with a very warm smile.

His teeth were crooked, but his old, brown
eyes, and pointed nose gave him the appearance of a genuine
individual.

“It is a pleasure, Poland,” Scar replied.

“Ah, Lady, if you don’t mind leaving us
alone,” Poland asked.

“Certainly,” she said and walked off.

Poland smiled at Scar again before taking a
few paces next to a long bench placed against the wall. He looked
at the large man before him and raised his brow portraying great
fatigue.

“Please, sit with me. I am old, and my feet
bedevil me,” he laughed.

Scar obliged, and then Poland leaned towards
him and spoke sincerely about his position, Gilgamesh’s wishes,
their movement into Alduheim, the deployment of their small force,
and the plan to secure the ruined kingdom.

Chapter Thirteen- Enroute to Alduheim

Poland’s plan of attack had involved a great
many variables, but if his information on the current state of
Alduheim was correct, and he had assured Scar that it was, then the
infiltration was going to be quite perilous, at least for normal
men. The strategist believed the bulk of Khmeran forces were
fighting the Kulshedran army behind the ruined towers, but there
were platoons stationed all around the expansive site.

Those platoons were employed by Sahni to keep
any other forces from performing their own exploration, which posed
a problem for N’Giwah’s men. Poland’s idea was to ride east from
Tironis into Malababwen territory, move north a few clicks, then
attack from the western border of Malababwe where Khmeran forces
were not only thinner, but were supposed to lack allied support.
Scar’s small force was meant to sneak by the bulk of Khmeran
troops, discover whatever N’Giwah may have uncovered during his
limited exploration, if he had in fact been able to discern
anything at all, and then take over the keep from the entrance the
Malababwen explorers had uncovered underground.

Scar had been hard pressed to believe that
his group of twenty including himself, one of whom was Poland and
two of whom were scholars, would be able to succeed without
casualties. During their ride, and after having just met
Gilgamesh’s small but handpicked force, Scar posed a question.

“I had learned through General Sulas that the
leader of the Dracos is lending support and that the Captain of the
Legion of Archers is spying on N’Giwah. Is it not more sensible to
attach ourselves to the main forces? Gilgamesh also suggested we
ride north and attack directly.”

The sun had only just risen during the long
ride out of the capital of Satrone, and the morning was yet chilly.
The strategist adjusted his gray riding cloak before answering.

“Let the soldiers fight. That is what they
have been trained to do; stand toe-to-toe and swing swords,” Poland
proclaimed. “These men you have here,” he added with a motion of
the hand to the force riding with them, “are specially trained to
decimate small squadrons in the blink of an eye. Large forces are
designed to secure borders, prevent advancement, or claim large
portions of territory over a period of days. All we want to do here
is move into the castle, find the hidden knowledge Gilgamesh seeks,
and return with information. These are not things normal soldiers
are trained to accomplish.”

Scar liked that Poland had a free will and
cunning mind. He then looked over his new squad. One of the
scholars was a tall, older woman named Marlayne. She had knotty
arms, long, brown hair in a thick braid, and ice cold blue eyes. A
gray, short sleeved robe in white trim covered most of her bronze
skin. She was a little lighter than the Kulshedrans Scar had yet
known and her prominent brow, he was told, was the mark of Fafnir.
That alone troubled Scar since the people who followed the God of
Speech were said to be neutral throughout the territorial disputes.
Borta, on the other hand, was a middle aged man with ash gray skin,
purple eyes, light gray short hair, black lips, and had blue
patterns like dripping water where his skin showed. He was the
Scultonian scholar, and that really made the mercenary
apprehensive. Labolas had stated that Scultonians were only loosely
allied with Kulshedrans and had as much of an allegiance with
Khmerans.
This whole situation just spells trouble,
he
thought.
I hope Poland knows what he’s doing.

“Alright,” Scar began. “I get that we are
designed for speedy acquisitions, but why are we meeting with
N’Giwah? I get the feeling Gilgamesh does not like him.”

“Forget what Gilgamesh thinks,” Poland
disputed. “We are not certain of how to access the new passage
N’Giwah uncovered, and that’s how I propose we enter Alduheim,
safely. Besides, if I know young Sulas, he’ll have had words with
the Tiamatish before our arrival. That should make everything move
more smoothly.”

“So we’re to ride in and claim whatever
secrets they themselves are working hard to find?” Scar asked
skeptically.

“Well, perhaps, but no,” Poland stammered and
laughed. “No. Certainly the captain has informed him of the Zmajan
forces and given claim that we are enroute to assist to that
end.”

“But that’s not what we’re doing,” Scar said
as he squinted. “Right?”

“We may yet, should they present themselves.
I do not believe N’Giwah’s men can handle them. This, however, is
not a matter for concern. Should we find a trace of the Zmajans, we
will deal with them.”

“Why do you depreciate N’Giwah’s men? How few
are they?”

“They are a small group of explorers.
Tiamatish people are not militant…or perhaps it is more accurate to
say that they are not aggressive. The Zmajans, even few in numbers,
will be ruthless. You, no doubt, can attest to that.”

Scar scratched his head.
I certainly
can.
He turned to look at the rest of his squad. The remaining
sixteen men and women were all Kulshedrans and fit as any fighting
force. Four were archers wearing studded leathers, galeas, and
steel bracers. Their names were Leera, Johan, Tarvin, and Gelrim.
Ten were swordsmen wearing half plate with open-faced helmets, and
they carried bronze shields. Poland had introduced them as Jayna,
Rauls, Ezlo, Bosen, Illner, Teyrin, Pater, Garrahf, Orsa, and
Layne. The last two were burly men unlike most of their wiry
brethren. They wore field plate, carried tower shields, and wore
broad headed axes on their hips. Poland said their names were
Lortho and Delton.

As they rode east off the beaten path, and
beyond sparsely growing trees, the sky turned gray with clouds. It
had not rained once since Scar left Usaj to start his raid on the
Kulshedran border. He watched the swirling masses of clouds morph
into and out of all manners of shapes, they even resembled warring
Dragons. With a cocky smile and a shake of his head, he thought
about the possibility of just that; Dragons at war.
That is
definitely what all this looks like to me.

During the better part of four hours, while
the land steadily sloped downwards, the riders chatted amongst
themselves. Small drops of cold rain peppered them. Scar felt the
chilly drops on his head and had to keep wiping the water from his
eyes. Those with riding cloaks pulled their cowls on, Scar was at
the mercy of the weather. Bolts of lightning occasionally flashed
on the horizon. Thunder growled in the distance.

They kept a modest pace over the soil while
the soldiers’ armoring unleashed a plethora of
tink
sounds
from the rains. Tufts of green grass grew sparsely as they came
across more and more trees; large brown monstrosities with thick
foliage. Birds hid from the precipitation among the entwined
branches.