The Dragon of Time: Gods and Dragons Read Online Free PDF Page B

he followed up with a high cross
slash.
    Only three more . “Argh,” Scar cried
out when pain accosted his leg. It was three soldiers and two
archers, idiot !
    There wasn’t time to complain; an arrow had
pierced Scar’s thigh, and he feared incurring real impairment- not
in matters of personal safety, but in regards to recovering from
the disastrous mission. Quickly butting a rushing Kulshedran with
the pommel of his sword, Scar back-fisted another, and finally cut
down the third melee fighter.
    “Now you’re done,” Scar promised the
archers.
    He stomped down on a bleeding Kulshedran and
made his approach. The archers glanced at one another before taking
off in different directions. Damn, they’ll warn the others.
I– His thoughts were cut short when a soldier wrapped her limbs
around his leg and jerked at the protruding arrow.
    “Wench!” he screamed, and drew his foot up
high. She went sailing through the air. Her landing on her head
rendered her unconscious. “I have to kill them all or they’ll just
run off!” He worked fast to sink his blade through brown, leather
armor then looked up to find the archers had gained notable
distance and in opposing directions. “Which one do I chase?”
    With a shake of the head in aggravation, he
chose the one heading northwest believing that one was to reach the
next outpost before the other reached wherever he was going. Scar
ran as quickly as his body allowed. Haggard breaths shot from his
mouth, but his tireless muscles prevailed. The archer glanced back
a few times, and knowing his fate was sealed, he grit his teeth,
dropped his bow, drew a short sword, and turned to charge at
Scar.
    The hot sun beamed down onto both men. As
their muscles pumped with exertion, they drew closer to one
another. Their eyes met and the soldier screamed his battle
cry.
    “Kulshedraaaa!”
    Scar lopped his head off. “Damn,” the
mercenary cursed. He looked off into the sunny distance only to see
the other archer was but a shadowed speck far away. “No way to
catch him.”
    Opting to return to the outpost and warn
General Dumar upon his appearance, he let the fleeing archer go.
Scar heaved a sigh, used the dead man’s short sword to cut the
arrow from his leg then jogged back towards the tower. His wound
was healed before he arrived.

Chapter Four- Assassin
     
    The gong was still echoing across the land.
Each subsequent bong forced a chill up Scar’s spine. Upon
his return from scuffling in the desert, the mercenary found his
men still fighting the Kulshedrans. Clanging steel sounded from all
through the tower. He joined in slaying the remaining enemies
posted at the base floor. For the great bladesman, it took little
effort to polish off the opposition. With a wipe of sweat from his
face, Scar counted his men. Three remained. They were not in good
shape.
    “How many have you killed?” he asked
them.
    “I don’t know,” a man with tattered armor
grunted. “A dozen?”
    Scar’s eyes darted around. The man before him
was splotched with blood, and as much of it appeared his own. The
battlement was a replica of the previous one; tables, chairs, food,
beverages. One difference was the ruined cart and dead horses. The
ambush had petered out miserably. Worse yet, the gong continued
ringing.
    “Here they come,” a Zmajan shouted.
    The sound of boots pounding over stone came
from the floor right above them. Enemy soldiers poured down the
steps; their ferocity knew no limit.
    “Stay back,” Scar instructed.
    He stormed over corpses to meet the
Kulshedrans at the stairs. With his great sword, he cut two down
with one slash. They bled and fell out of the way.
    “Die, bastard,” an enemy cried.
    A Kulshedran lunged with a thrust of sword,
but Scar parried then pulled back to bash the attacker with the
pommel of his blade. When the man collapsed, more heaved themselves
over comrades to force Scar from the stairs.
    Their success was short lived. Scar’s men
came in from the flank and