kindly bugger off, and inform them that we are a division of the Royal Zylekkhan Army, and that there isn’t a damn place in this entire realm that’s off limits to us, and that if we wanted we’d march right up their asses, and we’d be well within our rights to do so, and they’d have to thank us for the pleasure of getting their guts ground under our hooves… So that’s how a, erm, smallish war started. I mean, there was fighting, but it wasn’t anything worth writing home about.”
“Oh, a smallish war?” Raettonus said, raising an eyebrow. “Yes, definitely nothing to write home about. I mean, only a war?”
“Well, see, that’s it exactly,” said Tykkleht, fixing Raettonus with a hard gaze. “It was a conflict, like you might expect in an outpost like this, and it wasn’t a remarkable one by any means. Not even goblins are stupid enough to think they could take a fort like this with their melee weapons. Instead they would ambush our patrols and attack our guards. Well, I’ll be damned if I was going to let them make us retreat behind our walls as though we were in full siege mode. Instead, we took the fight to them. Goblins move their villages around a lot, though. They just pack up their huts and move. So we couldn’t just destroy them while they were sleeping. We got in a few lucky strikes though, and grabbed some hostages, and when we were getting their names we just happened to have gotten a dek’Kariss, and we knew what that meant.”
“Victory?”
The corner of Tykkleht’s mouth twitched into an amused smile. “No, Magician,” he said. “It meant peace. We returned the other hostages, but Deggho stays with us, to be executed if we’re molested by the Kariss any further. As long as his father’s the chief, or one of his brothers is, we don’t need to fight the goblins anymore. After that…well, maybe there’ll be a chief who never knew Deggho and doesn’t care what happens to him, and when that time comes, I’ll probably just release him. In the mean time, however, it stops my men from getting murdered while they’re trying to do their jobs, and I try not to treat Deggho too badly.”
“You’re a very kind man, General,” Daeblau said.
Raettonus stared at his soup, which had gone uneaten. He was more tired than he was hungry—though he was certainly hungry too. However, the soup had gone cold, and an orange film of fatty oil had begun to form at its top. It didn’t look very appetizing. He pushed it over to Brecan, who went at it happily, and began nibbling on some bread.
The conversation went on, but Raettonus was too tired to contribute much of anything to it. The general spoke at length about everything from how he began his military career putting down a vampirian rebellion, to how the Kaebha Citadel got its supplies from boats that sailed out of Bribarrah. He was a very tedious man, Raettonus decided early on into the conversation, who liked his own voice and thought himself wise. Raettonus also found himself hating Daeblau, who nodded and agreed with the general far too eagerly. Raettonus would glance across to find him deep in quiet conversation with Dohrleht whenever he wasn’t agreeing with the general. By the time Ebha arrived with the actual meal, Raettonus was practically half asleep.
He only ate a small amount before pushing away from the table. “I’m afraid I’ve overtaxed myself today,” he said. “Good night, gentlemen.”
“Would you like me to escort you back to your quarters?” Daeblau asked. “I’d be more than happy to.”
“I don’t need to be escorted, Captain. I do believe I know the way perfectly well,” Raettonus answered with an edge in his voice. “Good night.”
He left them all there, enjoying their meal and having their dull conversations. He had never really been one for conversations anyway, but the least they could do was attempt to be interesting. Talking about the citadel’s supply ships wasn’t even trying. Effort was all he asked for. Raettonus stepped out into the dim, cold hallway. For a moment, he stood in a patch of light from the fires within Tykkleht’s hall. Then the door closed, and he was left in darkness and silence.
He still preferred it to Tykkleht’s constant droning.
Chapter Three
“Master Raettonus?” Maeleht asked, several weeks into their lessons. “Why isn’t your magic elemental in nature?”
“Some of it is,” Raettonus answered. He lifted his hand,