The Dragon of Time: Gods and Dragons by Aaron Dennis Read Free Book Online

her off the mercenary, so he
turned around, took a knee, secured her wrist, and by twisting it,
forced the blade from her grip.
    “Do it! Do it!” she screamed.
    “I will.”
    Scar placed his knee into her abdomen to keep
her pinned to the ground. He wrapped his right hand about her
throat and when he drew his left back to punch her, she spat in his
face.
    “NOW!” she howled.
    His fist collided with her nose. The blow
left her limp. A loud crash from outside forced him to halt in a
crouched position. Then there was another from a different
direction followed by two more. The first floor went up in flames.
Scar’s eyes went wide with alarm.
    “It was me! The plan was to trap me!”
    Bright fires and thick smoke quickly clouded
his vision. Choking for air, he made to run upstairs, but fires
already blocked the way.
    “Dammit! You set me up! You all set me up!
Dumaaar!”
    Scar scurried around for a way out, but
barrels of oil had been lighted and thrown from above to cover
every escape route; to boot, Scar caught glimpses through flashing
flames of the assailants dropping from makeshift ropes.
    The stifling smoke was disorienting. Scar
stumbled about blindly both trying to secure his sword and find a
way out. No longer able to breathe, or ward off the excruciating
heat of flame, he bolted up the stairs.
    Pain accosted his lower body as his leggings
caught fire. Blistering heat rattled his feet. He grunted, made it
to a window, and flung himself out. Unfortunately, he fell into a
pile of flaming wood. Horrible burns ravaged his body, but he
rolled away onto cooling soil and fled into the cold night of the
Kulshedran desert cursing the name of Zoltek.

Chapter Five- False Gods
     
    Scar sat on his rear, his knees pulled up to
his chest. Over a mile to the south stood a great, flaming beacon.
The Kulshedran outpost remained in flames.
    “Zmaj be damned…and Dumar with him,” the
mercenary snarled while coming to his feet.
    The previous ordeal left his boots and most
of his leggings in tatters. He prodded at the newly formed scars.
Considering what he had gone through, they were not severe. With a
deep inhalation through the nose, he turned his eyes to the dark
skies. Heavy clouds rolled overhead. Occasionally, the moon broke
through; a thin, shining crescent.
    “What shall I do? Venture to the south and
kill Dumar? Perhaps,” he nodded to himself. “That certainly
provides immediate comfort, but no, that is not the proper course
of action. It is now evident Zoltek has no desire to assist me,” he
narrowed his eyes and set his jaw before continuing. “Zoltek…he’s
the one I need to kill.”
    The mercenary was more than upset, more than
insulted, he was completely betrayed. He had wanted only to learn
of himself. Now that seemed impossible. Ripping the spine from
Zoltek’s still breathing form won’t help me to learn
anything.
    Scar took a few paces to loosen the tightness
from his thighs; still mired in contemplation he did not notice the
figure striding through the chaparral. With his fists on his hips,
he returned to voicing his thoughts.
    “I need to wait for those fires to settle.
Hopefully my blade is intact…damn! I can’t just wait…fighting off
the oncoming hordes of Kulshedra, Drac, or whoever won’t be easy if
all I have is their modest weaponry. Then again…Dumar’s axe was
quite the strange–”
    Extreme pain rattled his head. There was a
second of confusion, like the ground had come away from his feet.
Then he was rattled again upon hitting that very same ground.
Groaning and gripping his bleeding head, the stunned mercenary
turned onto to his back. A tall figure clad in full plate mail as
dark as the night itself loomed over him. The shining moon revealed
a knight armored like a bastion before the clouds ensconced him in
darkness again.
    The assailant’s gear was unlike anything Scar
had witnessed so far; thick plates of unknown metal completely
covered the mysterious attacker. Smoky