The Dragon of Time: Gods and Dragons (31 page)

“Are you daft?” Scar asked. “What manner of
man would open the door?”

The clamor of a wooden bar sliding away from
the door interrupted his argument. An older Fafnirian with squinty
eyes and wrinkled visage poked his round nose to look upon the
travelers.

“Paladin?” the man said and slammed the
door.

“Wait,” Ylithia chuckled. “I’m not a paladin
anymore!”

Scar laughed at her, and she elbowed him
lightly in the ribs. He feigned injury and rubbed at his flank.

“Sir?” Scar started. “My name is…I am called
Scar and was recently employed by Gilgamesh of Satrone. Would you
please see two haggard travelers inside? If not, we will leave
peacefully.”

He then gave Ylithia an expression of hopeful
confusion by frowning, scrunching his nose, and shrugging. The man
opened the door and peeked out the slit again. He was short with
dark eyes and neatly combed gray hair. He squinted in their
direction for a moment and then blinked a great deal.

“Hmph,” the man huffed at them, but then he
opened the door completely and stood upright. “I don’t get many
travelers and none as outlandish as yourselves.” After accosting
them he looked past them and saw they were alone. “Leave your
weapons outside.” When the two gladly obliged, the old man waved
them in. “Well don’t gawk, come in!”

Scar chuckled and made his way inside.
Ylithia thanked the man for his kindness before glaring at her
compatriot.

“Yes, thank you, Sir,” Scar smiled.

“What do you want?” the man asked.

Scar deferred to Ylithia, and she said, “We
saw your torch while travelling and hoped to find some rest for the
night. We are travelling to Othnatus.”

The old man noted her Fafnirian lineage
before scrutinizing Scar. “Glad to hear you’ve found your way home
from the jungles, but what’s he supposed to be?”

“I…it doesn’t matter,” Scar smiled.

“It does if you want to stay here!”

“My friend is from Wuulefroth, one of the ice
people,” Ylithia lied.

“Of course, of course, how foolish of me,”
the old man smiled. “You must be rather warm out there, lad.”

Scar laughed openly saying, “Quite, actually,
but I am very thankful you have decided to see us in.”

“Well don’t just stand there, come have a
seat. I was about to have a drink before bed,” the old man stated
and shuffled into a room beyond the open area wherein they chatted.
“My name is Foxus, used to call me Fox when I was a boy. Eh…I had
reddish hair then and they thought I was half Draco, but who’s ever
heard of that, huh?”

While following, Scar almost had another fit
of laughter, but Ylithia’s stern leer held it at bay. Foxus
continued mumbling about childhood in the countryside, but neither
of them had heard exactly what he said.

“Care for a drink?” he asked, holding up a
glass bottle with a copperish liquid.

“Yes,” Scar said emphatically.

“Good,” Foxus cheered and poured each a
drink. “Tell me all about your travels. By the way, you’re quite
far from Othnatus. The closest city is Kathka, and that’s at least
a day away on foot. Now, don’t just stand there!” He said, holding
out their cups. “Sit down.”

They obliged and sat at a small table on two,
wooden unpadded chairs. Foxus sipped from his cup and remarked
about the smoothness of Closic spirits.

“Mmm, so tell me,” he started up again. “How
do you find yourselves all the way out here from Malababwe?”

Scar looked around the modest domicile. It
was all wood, large for a single person, and the walls were covered
in sketches of people, buck antlers, hog’s heads, and cattle
skulls. An old bow was mounted above the fireplace.

“Ah, w-well,” Scar stammered.

“It has to do with my abandoning the
teachings of Mekosh,” Ylithia jumped in. “But I’d rather not bring
any sullen conversation to your fine home, Foxus.”

“No, no, of course not, young lady. I didn’t
mean to upset you,” Foxus apologized. “Forgive an old man’s
crassness.”

“You live alone?” Scar asked.

“Yes,” the old man smiled. “Been raising
sheep for nearly half a century now.”

A polite silence ensued before Foxus offered
them bread and stew. While devouring it, topics changed to climate,
the sheep business, states of affair in Genova, taxes, the usual
grievances of peasants.

“So what about you?” Foxus asked. “What was
it…Scar? How is your country faring in these times of discord?”

“Wha-uh, well,” he looked to Ylithia, but she
slowly glanced away to take in the sights of the house. “I…don’t
really know. I was raised in Tironis.”

“Oh. That’s unusual. Gilgamesh has allied
with Vamvos?”

“Well, of course,” Scar lied. “He is a
peaceful man, after all.”

“Gilgamesh or Vamvos?” Foxus was
surprised.

“Yes,” Scar answered with wide eyes.

“Oh, good. The last thing we need here in
Closicus is more war spilling onto our borders,” Foxus claimed and
poured another round for everyone. “What’s awaiting you two in
Othnatus?”

“The rest of our lives,” Ylithia
chuckled.

“Oh that is nice,” Foxus smiled and looked
them both over to the best of his ability. “Two people of different
tribes finding happiness together is not something oft discovered
nowadays. Going to start a family in this finest of countries?”

“That remains to be seen,” Scar offered and
looked at his partner who smiled.

“Family is good. It is the cornerstone of,
of, of,” the old man made a rounded motion with his hand as he
searched for his words.

“Do you have family?” Scar asked.

“Used to,” Foxus grinned and got up to
shuffle over to some of the canvas sketchings. He grabbed a large
one with four people on it. “See here? This is me when I was
younger. That’s my wife, Natalie, and our two boys, Rolus and
Reelus.”

Another polite silence ensued until Scar
asked, “Where are they?”

The old man’s head bobbed around a bit and
his eyes grew glassy. He choked back some tears and smacked his
lips before pouring another drink. “Gone now…Natalie died of
illness, and the boys were no longer able bear their depressed, old
dad, so they went off to Genova. I haven’t heard from them in so
long.”

Ylithia rolled her eyes and gaped at Scar,
who shook his head and shrugged back. She reached out and touched
Foxus’s hand.

“We’re so sorry,” she consoled.

“No, it’s fine,” he smiled. “I loved them
very much, but now I’m just an old sheep herder, and that’s fine
with me…but it is getting late. I haven’t any rooms set up for
guests, I, eh, would you two be alright in the barn?”

“Anything is better than sleeping outside at
this point,” Scar said.

“Good, good, let me find you some blankets,
and uh, don’t bother Sniffer,” Foxus warned as he turned to
leave.

“What?” Scar asked.

“The boar,” Foxus clarified. “He doesn’t like
guests, but if you leave him alone, he’ll give you the same
courtesy.”

He smiled and left them for a moment.

“How could you bring up his dead family?”
Ylithia accosted.

“Well, I didn’t know they were dead.”

The two bickered for a moment. When they
heard the shuffling feet of Foxus’s approach, they stopped and
smiled.

“Here you are. Wool, naturally,” he said
offering up two blankets. Then he motioned them out. As they said
goodnight at the door, old Foxus smiled and patted them amicably.
“I’ll wake you when the sun is up, and you can be on your way.”

Once they were out of the house, the old man
slid the bar back over the door.

“Where’s the barn?” Scar asked.

“We’ll find it,” Ylithia snipped.

It was one of two other wooden buildings on
the property and about fifty yards from the house. No doors blocked
their entry, so when they walked in, they scanned the surroundings
through the nearly impenetrable darkness. The sleeping boar,
Sniffer, was easy enough to spot; he was enormous. There were also
a few sheep lazing about. Scar threw his blanket onto a pile of hay
and laid down to rest. Ylithia laid next to him.

“So what’s the plan, here?” Scar asked.

“Get some sleep, and when Foxus wakes us,
we’ll get directions to Kathka.”

“Ever been?”

“No, but if it’s like every other Fafnirian
city, we’ll be able to find transport to Othnatus,” she
answered.

“Are you mad?”

“No,” she pouted.

“You sound mad,” he complained.

“You shouldn’t have brought up his
family.”

“It was an accident,” he chuckled.

“Go to sleep.”

“You’re sure you’re not mad?”

She chuckled, saying, “I’m not mad.”

Then she kissed him and rolled over.

“Night,” he whispered.

****

“
Sarkany, wake.”

There was some confusion roaming about Scar’s
head. For a moment he didn’t know where he was, or if he was even
awake.

“Scar, Ylithia?” a voice called.

“
Sarkany!”

“Mmmf?” Scar slurred upon waking. “What
now?”

“Ahoy,” Foxus chuckled.

“Oh,” Scar smiled and grumbled as he came to
his feet.

Ylithia was stretching her arms and yawning.
The predawn twilight graced the interior of the barn. Sniffer the
boar grunted and sauntered up to the old Fafnirian.

“Sleep alright out here?” Foxus asked.

“It was wonderful,” Ylithia replied.

Scar nodded then rolled his shoulders. He
nodded to Foxus with a flickering smile.

“Not an early riser, are you?” the old man
asked.

“Just haven’t gotten much sleep lately is
all, but thank you. You’re accommodations were more than
sufficient,” Scar stated.

“Well, I’m just glad I didn’t bore you two to
death last night,” Foxus grinned. “Anyway, I’ve got some things for
you. Travelling supplies, you see? My old tent, a canteen with
fresh water, you can keep those old blankets by the way, the horses
don’t need ‘em anymore,” he joked. “Wrapped up some biscuits for
your breakfast, also here is a little, hand drawn map of the area
with my home here,” he pointed to a nicely sketched map while they
maneuvered the supplies between each other. “The main road is about
ten miles to the southeast, and you can see that leads to
Kathka….”

“Why thank you so much, Foxus,” Ylithia said.
“You didn’t have to go through such trouble.”

“Trouble? Please,” he answered with a
dismissive wave. “You two were kind enough to listen to the
ramblings of a forgotten, old man. I just pray you learn from your
elders…anyway, Scar, I wanted to give you this.” Foxus left the map
with Ylithia and took an old bow that was leaning inconspicuously
against the wall behind him. “It was Reelus’s.”

“Nooo, I can’t,” Scar smiled meekly.

“I insist,” the old man said giving a
pleading nod. “It’s just been sitting above the fireplace, and
every night I drink in front of it wondering if my sons are
alright. At least this way, I’ll know it’s going to good use. You
can shoot a bow, right?”

Scar glanced at Ylithia before saying,
“Yes…I’m certainly a decent shot.”

Foxus laughed loudly for a second then had to
stop to catch his breath, adding, “I’ve got arrows, too, you big,
old fool.” They shared an awkward chuckle, but ultimately Scar
accepted the gifts with a humble bowing of the head. “Just do me
one favor,” Foxus begged.

“Anything,” Scar replied.

“If you see my sons, hear their names spoken
in the cities, tell them to visit their old man.”

Ylithia frowned and took Scar’s wrist in both
hands. She looked at him with Foxus’s sympathies playing on her
eyes.

“Of course, Foxus,” the mercenary said. “I’ll
keep my eyes and ears open for the names Rolus and Reelus.”

Holding back a tear, the old Fafnirian stood
fully erect, tried to keep his lip from trembling then patted both
the travelers before saying, “Goodbye, young friends. Travel
safe.”

They shook hands. Scar slung the bow over his
shoulder, secured the quiver with eight arrows onto his belt, and
he and Ylithia shared the remaining supplies.

“Your swords are just outside,” Foxus added
as they patted one another gently on the shoulder.

The warriors scooped up their blades,
oriented themselves while scarfing biscuits, and made for the
southeast.

Chapter Twenty- A Closic way of life

The trip from Foxus’s farmstead to the main
road tying together the major cities of Closicus was an easy
traverse for the hardened travelers. They reminisced about the old
Fafnirian, whom they had liked immensely, and Ylithia believed Scar
would one day make an excellent father himself. He was uncertain
about raising children, but hadn’t ruled it out as a future
possibility.

“Do you think bringing a child into this
world is a good idea?” he asked.

She frowned before replying, “I don’t know,
truthfully. It would seem a loving family might do well, so long as
the flames of war don’t reach Othnatus.”

“And if they do?”

“We can deal with such an issue if it ever
arises.”

Nothing else was said until Scar noticed the
tracks of deer. “Look.” He stopped and pointed.

“We’ve lots of ground to cover today,
Scar.”

“It’ll take only a moment. Let us follow
these tracks. This bow was a gift and should be put to use as
such.”

She winced and placed a hand on her hip. Her
penetrating gaze belied her irritation.

“Come now,” he smiled. “I’m tired of wielding
weapons against people. Let me have a little fun. What is life
without fun?”

He chuckled, kissed her forehead, and awaited
her reply. She sighed in resignation. Having never fired a bow, at
least to his recollection, he wondered about how difficult bagging
a deer might be.

“Deer’s not worth too much,” she said.

“Maybe not. I should think a decent sized
buck will bring in enough for passage through Closicus without
having to resort to more lies or begging, though.”