Dakon rose to refill it. Every time they came close to discussing why Takado had toured Kyralia the Sachakan became flippant or changed the subject. It had made some magicians nervous, especially since rumours had reached them that some of the younger Sachakan magicians had met in Arvice, the capital of Sachaka, to discuss whether regaining the empire’s former colonies was possible. The Kyralian king had sent secret requests to all landowners that any lord or lady Takado stayed with seek the reason for his visit.

“So has your curiosity been satisfied?” Dakon asked as he returned to his seat.

Takado shrugged. “There’s more I’d like to see, but without a slave...? No.”

“Your slave might yet live.”

“Much as I have appreciated your hospitality, I’m not going to stay here only to see whether a slave I’m tired of recovers. I’ve probably been too great a drain on your resources already.” He paused to drink. “No, if he lives, keep him. He’ll probably be crippled and useless.”

Dakon blinked in surprise. “So if he lives and I allow him to stay, you grant him his freedom?”

“Yes. Of course.” Takado waved a hand dismissively. “Can’t have you breaking your own laws because of me.”

“I thank you for your consideration. So where will you go next? Home?”

The Sachakan nodded, then grinned. “Can’t let the slaves back in my domain get any foolish ideas about who is in control, can I?”

“Absence, as they say, tempers the bonds of affection.”

Takado laughed. “You have some strange sayings here in Kyralia. Like ‘Sleep is the cheapest tonic’.” He stood and, as Dakon followed suit, handed over his empty wine goblet. “You haven’t finished yours,” he noted.

“As you are no doubt aware, small bodies make for quick drunks.” Dakon set his half-empty goblet next to the empty one on the tray. “And while there is an injured man in my house I feel a responsibility to remain sober, even when that man is only a lowly Sachakan slave.”