Tuesday Excerpt, "New"

Far up in Marinhalk, Anvar found himself on a most familiar

floor of the prison roundhouse in the palace wall. He was in a

smaller cell than his previous visit, but the amenities were far

superior. His hands were shackled in order to prevent him using

his magic. All of his clothes had been removed as physicians

bandaged his wounds. Both of his arms had been broken along

with several ribs. The damage to his skull was severe enough to

warrant wrappings from his eyebrows to the back of his neck.

When the doctors were through, they dressed him in a loose fitting,

white robe.

As if on cue, Acreas arrived with spear in hand. “Is the prisoner

ready to be moved yet?” he asked.

“The elf can barely walk, Commander Acreas,” answered the

caregiver. “Now is not the time to move him about.”

“It cannot be helped,” Acreas stated. “Lord Mandrean wishes to

see the prisoner right away. I will take him to the Throne Room

now.” In moments, he sternly pulled Anvar to his feet and marched

him with a spear at his spine out of the cell and down the spiral

staircase.

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.”