<span style="font-family: 'Arial'">There was a semblance of truth to be had with the man's words. Though slavery might be forbidden, all were bound in place by circumstance. He was, Diens was, all of the smallfolk and all of the nobles. Even the King. But that was a constant to be found anywhere, even in Dusan too. Everyone was a slave to fate and none could escape its iron grasp, save perhaps the dead. Still, there was a distinction between Diens' position and true slavery. "Perhaps you will come to understand. It's strange that you've come so close to Weiss, yet you cannot fathom this," Snow admitted. "Dusan and Weiss are a world apart. Snow is a common sight for all here in Weiss, but in Dusan even rain is rare, no? There are other things that the other has that the other cannot even imagine. I suppose you are ignorant of these matters, since you have become accustomed to smoldering sand land."<br/>
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 Altair allowed his unease to show upon his face, as he drifted off into private thought. But though he showed his emotion, Snow couldn't read his thoughts. Was he trying to recall something to memory? Or was the slave contemplating answers that would cover up his falsehoods? There were many questions that Snow had for the man still, but those he would give later. In his convalescent state, it was unlikely he could draw any truths from the man's mouth. A weak man would say anything to save his skin, conjure up fantastical lies to appease and protect. Whatever the man had to hide, he had gone into the sea for. <i>Your secret had you tossed into the sea, or you jumped into its depths yourself, </i>Snow thought.<br/>
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So many unexplained wounds. Altair had a coyote's claw raked across one of his cheeks, an unsightly blemish across his face. No doubt it would heal and leave little scarring, but clearly the wound hadn't been self inflicted. There was another to be found on his neck, a thin slit of a gash. Inflicted cleanly and straight. Then there were the bruises, that covered the man in mottles of violet and blue. The vast amount had settled amidst Altair's thighs like a length of purple silk. It was an ominous sign of what had befallen the man, but Snow had no idea what to make of it. Was it the bruise of sickness or the bruise of brutality? Or was it something else?<br/>
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He told him that he had no craving for freedom. What the man meant by that Snow couldn't quite parse. <i>No freedom, </i>Snow wondered. <i>What? </i>It was a strange thought that rose from nowhere. No - it came from the knowledge that Altair would be allowed to leave, if he so wished. He could not pretend to understand why the man didn't wish for freedom. A free man was free to own land, to gain a lady's favor, to sire heirs. A slave was bound to the desires of their masters, everything to the whims of their superiors. It was incomprehensible to him that the man might not desire freedom at all. It had been said with a pitifully faint voice, but with a certainty behind it that Snow believed that the man meant what he meant.<br/>
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<i>“You are men of contradictions. No slaves, yet you bind the half-dead.” </i>The slave was reasoning with them, to free him from his bonds. Truly, he looked as he said. Haggard, pale, and gaunt with sunken eyes. The initial wariness and foreboding he had for the slave was fading quickly. Even if the man bore any malice towards him, Snow doubt there would be much force behind any assault launched. If anything were to happen, despite their severe size difference Snow could tell that even he could subdue the man. Perhaps he were a criminal, perhaps not; even if he was, in his dreadful state the bindings were redundant and cruel. <br/>
<br/>
Snow rose from where he sat for the first time in hours, taking a step towards Altair's legs. He pushed the blanket away, uncovering the man's legs. Climbing in between Altair's legs, he reached forward and placed his hand upon the man's right ankle. Then, he began to untie the knot that stuck the man's leg to the post. <br/>
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"My lord..." Diens began to object.<br/>
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"The man is weary. I don't believe that he will prove to be any trouble," Snow answered. "He has long been tied up. It is time to release him." <i>If he dares to harm me, then I will fall to my last gambit. No doubt that he will be able to fight that off. </i>The knot came loose, and he moved on to the next.<br/>
<br/>
One by one the knots were slackened, until Altair was unbound. Snow returned to his chair, pulling it closer to the bed. "If you attack, then you will be tied up once more," Snow warned in a frozen tone. "I will not allow injury to befall any man upon this ship." Closely he examined the man, observing for any sign that he might lunge. </span>