his place. Smart for an elf.”
“For an elf,” agreed Raettonus blandly. “General, if I may get down to business with you—”
“You may.”
“—I would like to discuss your sons and exactly what it is you’d like them taught?” Raettonus said. “Also, I would like to amend my terms.”
“Amend how?” asked Tykkleht, furrowing his brow. “You haven’t decided to leave, have you? If your room is inadequate I’ll find you better quarters.”
“No, my room is just fine,” Raettonus said, hooking his thumbs through his belt. “I would just like to have Brecan with me for the duration of my stay here.”
“That hunter unicorn?”
Raettonus nodded.
“Certainly. Of course. Not a problem,” said the general. “Now, about my boys—I’d like you to teach them how to kill.”
“How to kill?” asked Raettonus, cocking one eyebrow. “I would think that’d be your area, General.”
Tykkleht shook his head. “No, no,” he said. “My younger son is rather sickly, and my older son is crippled, so neither of them can be soldiers in the traditional sense. However, I’ll be damned if they don’t get to come to war with me and their uncles, just the same as all our ancestors did since King Daebrish conquered Zylekkha. No, if they can’t wield lances and swords, then at least they can fight our enemies with magic. That’s what I want them taught—to kill with magic. Of course, it’s not all magic. They need a tutor—someone to teach them languages, and mathematics, and all the finer points of academics. You can do that, can’t you, Magician?”
“I can.”
The general smiled. “Good—I was a little worried for a second,” he said. “I’m sorry, by the way, that I couldn’t personally negotiate the terms of your coming here. I should’ve thought ahead and sent more information with the messenger I sent to Ti Tunfa to speak with you…”
“Not a problem,” Raettonus said evenly as Tykkleht led him through the citadel.
They reached a door that had been painted red, and the general opened it and invited Raettonus to enter ahead of him. Within the room two centaur children sat at a low table arguing over an open book in Kaerikyna until their father cleared his throat. Behind them sat a human woman in a simple dress. She was the Zylxian type of human, however—not the same sort of human Raettonus was—with slightly pointed ears and hair that was an improbable shade of dark green. She was middle-aged and plump with a motherly look about her.
“Magician, allow me to introduce to you my sons,” said Tykkleht. Both of the children were red-haired with cream-colored fur on their equine lower bodies. “This is my older son, Dohrleht.”
The larger of the centaur children—a broad-chested boy of sixteen—nodded politely. His eyes were a deep green, and he had freckles across his face. Raettonus could only assume he took after his mother since he didn’t look nearly as hideous as the general. Although there was no ruling out that he might grow into that kind of ugly with age. As it was, however, Dohrleht was a rather attractive young man, though his front teeth were a tad prominent, and his ears were rather large. One of his forelegs was twisted abnormally to one side.
“And this,” said the general, motioning to the other boy, “is my younger son, Maeleht.”
Maeleht was even fairer of face than his brother, lacking the prominent teeth and ears, but still with the freckles. He was around twelve years old, though he looked much younger. His eyes were a pale blue, and his face had a very bloodless look to it. Raettonus nodded curtly to the boys and then indicated the woman sitting quietly behind them. “And who’s she?”
“She’s called Ebha,” Tykkleht said off-handedly. “She’s trained to look after the boys’ medical needs. Not a very talkative creature, but bright enough, I think. Do you require anything, Magician? I really should get to the courtyard to oversee my