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Anvar was in tremendous pain but still had his wits about him.

“Officer Acreas, you can put the spear away now. I can walk very

little, and I have no use of my arms or my magic. It would be safe

to say that I am not a flight risk at this time.”

“The name is Commander Acreas, if you please,” Acreas

demanded. “I suppose the spear is unnecessary at the moment. It

was more for show and intimidation. I sense no fear from you.”

“Why should I fear at this time?” Anvar asked bluntly. “Even

with my advanced healing abilities, my wounds would have taken

my life if I had not been treated. Not only did I receive care but I

was fed as well. One does not do those things for someone they

plan to run through with a spear. Lord Mandrean has other uses for

me that require me being alive. So let us dispense with the pointy

objects. I will come without trouble.”

Acreas pulled the spear away. “My research said you were the

logical one in the group. Your logic makes sense to me.”

As they emerged from the jail to enter the courtyard of the

palace, Anvar addressed his escort again. “Research? I am

surprised the Commander of the imperial guard would research

someone like me.”

“Knowing your enemy is the best way to defeat him. I have

studied you and your family for that purpose. I have, however,

paid particular attention to your nephew Linvin Grithinshield. His

body of work is immense and required a good deal of analysis. I

have memorized his background, commerce and battlefield tactics.

If I could set my hatred of him aside for a moment, I might

actually respect his abilities. Every battle he has fought has been

against superior forces and every time, he has won. Whether he

was in Valia, the Territory or the Valley of Broken Soldiers where

he last fought, Grithinshield has used everything from the cover of

night to the morning mist and even the geography to his advantage.

He is a worthy opponent.”

“I had no idea Lord Mandrean’s commander furnished him with

such detailed information,” Anvar noted. “Perhaps it will help him

in the oncoming fight with Linvin.”

“Help him?” repeated Acreas. “Why in Lavacia would I ever

want to help my hopeless father?”

Anvar stopped and looked at him in complete surprise. “You

are Lord Mandrean’s son and heir?”

“You are partially right,” Acreas said as he shoved Anvar to

continue his march. “I am his son though my legitimacy is in

question, at least in his eyes.”

Anvar became confused. “If Mandrean is your father, than

why would you not want to help him against his biggest rival? He

must think something of your abilities to have advanced you to

such a prestigious position.”

“We loath one another,” Acreas confessed. “For two years

he has sent me into every cauldron of death so that I may meet my

own but instead I returned again and again victorious. I earned this

rank just like one day I will earn the chance to be emperor. Then

Linvin will be my adversary. When that day comes, I will know

everything about Grithinshield. I will finally be able to repay him

for this.” Acreas pointed to a long scar above his eye.

“Linvin did that to you?” Anvar asked.

“He did indeed during your flight from Marinhalk. Surely he

mentioned it to you.”

Anvar shook his head. “I do not recall any story about an

encounter with you. Knowing Linvin as I do, if that was your only

damage then it must not have been much of a fight.”

Acreas’ voice became bitter. “He dispatched me without even

making an effort. Only his expedience to escape allowed me to

survive. Much has changed since then. I have matured. When my

day comes, I will know how to handle your nephew.”