“Thank you,” Ichabod murmured as the young man handed him a note.  Unfolding it, he carefully read through each instruction, then released a soft and weary sigh.  Life was always interesting, but very seldom simple.  At least the note contained one piece of information he could put to immediate use.  Summoning his last reserves of strength, Ichabod pulled himself to his feet and grabbed a handful of coins from the card table.  Then, staggering over to the serving girl, he pressed the entire amount into her hands without counting it.  A moment of conversation was all it took to convey his desires.  With a smile and polite bob of her head, the serving girl disappeared into the kitchen.<br/><br/>Left alone with the demon, Ichabod struggled with his conscience.  He didn’t want to die.  Each new day brought so many pleasures, so many thrills and surprises.  Only a fool would cast away a single hour without regret.  And even if he was willing to risk his own life, did he have the right to risk the lives of other people?  If the demon remained unbound, surely it would eventually seek vengeance against its former captors.  Ichabod felt only loathing and disgust for the Duke, but that didn’t mean he was eager to have the man’s blood on his hands -- or the blood of his entire retinue.  And what of the demon itself?  Blind, weak, hunted for the magic of its body parts.  How long would it survive on its own?<br/><br/>So many lives.  So many lives could be saved by speaking so few words.  But those words went against everything Ichabod held most sacred.<br/><br/>In the end, Ichabod simply couldn’t do it.  He wasn’t responsible for the actions of other people.  The world had made its choices, and the world would have to face whatever consequences those choices brought.  All he could do was stay true to his own moral code.<br/><br/>Slowly, Ichabod walked over to where the demon sat.  “Hello Ruin.  I’m Ichabod.”  Out of habit, Ichabod withheld his full title.  His mother had warned him about the dangers of giving true names to magical creatures.  “And for the record, I didn’t know that the Duke was wagering you -- if I had, I never would have accepted his bet.  I think the idea of one person owning another is revolting.”<br/><br/>Pulling over a chair, Ichabod sat down beside the demon.  “According to this piece of paper your friend gave me, I’m supposed to order you to protect and serve me.  But I’m not going to do that.  I’ve never ordered anyone to do anything in my life and I’ll be damned if I start now.  I do, however,<span style="font-style: italic">request</span>that you refrain from killing anyone.”  Ichabod’s shoulders lifted and dropped in a small shrug.  “If you feel absolutely compelled to have a go at me, I suppose I can’t stop you.  You won’t be the first person.”<br/><br/>At that moment, the serving girl arrived with the beverage Ichabod had requested.  After taking the cup from her, Ichabod carefully placed it in the demon’s hands.  “While you make up your mind, here’s some warm tea to drink.  We’re working on the whole venison thing.  The serving girl thinks the butcher may have a deer or two, and she's sent the errand boy to check.”