'I never wished to take any new cases or even get back in this line of work. But for some reason, I could not resist when George read me the letter about this one.

'The driver, again, dropped me at the entrance of the farmlands and moved ahead, and I walked ahead on the same road as the day before and after some time, I was standing some distance from the house the woman from the other day mentioned.

'The words of the lady came to me, "You can visit the last farmland house at the end of this road. He was pretty close to the slaves. I often saw him helping the female slave when the master was not there." I also remembered her later words, "You can stay here for the night if it pleases you." And I shook my head, for why would I think of that part? That thought disgusted me for some time.

'Noticing the door closed from outside, I walked away and rested under a tree till an old, healthy person returned from wherever he had gone. After some more time had passed, I walked toward the house.

'The old man opened the door, "May I help you?" And a smile came on him after realising my identity. He spoke before I could say. "I am well aware of who you might be. Please, come in." He walked in, "And close the door behind you."

'He was about to pour me a mug of wine before I asked him not to. Looking at my outfit, he asked me to sit on the cushions near the fireplace and soon came out with his mug of wine and sat opposite to me.

'"By your expression, I presume you know why I might have visited you."

'"I think I do," he nodded. "What do you wish to know from me?"

'"The other day, I visited some of the houses on this road. One lady mentioned, the master of the house at the end of this road, should know more about this runaway person. For he was the person closest to the slaves. That happened to be you."

'The man smiled, "I will not deny I was close to the slaves, and even their master. But if you wish to conclude I was a part of this incident and killing, I will deny that."

'"I am not concluding anything," I shook my head. "I only wish to know what you know about either of them, or anything about this situation."

'The man nodded, drinking from his mug, "The nation of Lydia was not united earlier. There was a time not more than 60 years ago, when this nation was divided into different territories ruled by different heads, the Earls. But the land was extremely fertile-not as fertile as the Sindhi lands, beyond the Sumerian deserts, but fertile enough. And the old ruler of Thena used this division as an advantage to ravage lands.

'"But there was a visionary. A person who brought together some warriors and, defeating the heads, united the lands and named it after his deceased lover-The Lydia. In those times, I and the slave's now-dead master were close friends, comrades, fighting together alongside other warriors and the current king.

'I smiled, "It is funny then, how after the unification you ended up on the same farmland as him."

'"There are many more you will find. For this lands were gifted as an honor to the best ones. Thus, some of us end up in the same place."

'"What happened then?"

'"We were given houses to live and lands to harvest. Massive lands which would feed us for a lifetime. For fighters like us, where taking lives was all we knew and got pleasure from, farming and creating life was a life lesson. Farming was like parenting thousands of lives. Gradually, as his lands gave him a profit, he bought more lands from others and extended his lands. Of course, not everyone had the same views about farming as I did.

'"We occasionally had conversations about the old days and how life is now over mugs of wine, but they reduced as he was changing. Soon, his brother separated from him. He was a man with a vision . . . just like the current king."

'"We all know what the king has become now."

'"Same happened to him," the man said. "Power attracts and brings the worst, and corrupts the finest. When he bought the slaves, it was not hard to notice how he treated them. I would not be surprised if the slave in fact killed the master. A person, after all, craves to become free. The difference is, a slave knows what is binding him, a free man does not."

(It was later that I realised these words, casually came out of this old wise man, had planted a seed inside his mind; initiated a series of reactions inside William)

'There was a mechanical sound from his back-like a door knob turning-and the door opened behind the old man, welcoming three inside. A broad, muscular man and a sweet lady, carrying a small child in her arms. I could notice the momentary expression change-startled, disturbed-for a very brief period before the old man had calmed himself again. It was a silence with growing awkwardness on the two new faces.

'"Ah-the-they are on my side," the old man said. Then he looked at them, "Please do the clothes and clean the vegetables. I brought some of them this morning."

'I could not ignore the expressions on their faces. My eyes almost scanned every part of them and every detail of their face, the way they judged me, for I knew who I was sitting in front of.

'"What is he doing here?" the man asked, hastily.

'"Just asking some questions about the things that have happened recently in the farmlands. Nothing you should be worried about." Then the old man turned to me, "Pardon me for his straight tone."

'"I was unaware you have a family. The neighbours didn't care to mention that to me at least."

'"He is not my son," said the man. "Am- they once were my slaves, both of them. They earned their freedom, then I gave them the choice to leave or help me on farms. They chose to stay and recently had a gorgeous child."

'"I understand," I chose not to push the topic and stay grounded until I was not completely out of my suspicions. We continued talking about the topics directly and vaguely related to the situation. My eyes occasionally went to the two, noticing them talking in low voices and looking at me once in a while. At a point when I felt I was invading their privacy, I stood up, "I gained much knowledge," I said, purposely looking at the young man in the kitchen.

A psychological game which never failed me.

'"The sun shall be setting soon," said the young man, while making the child sleep. "It will be night soon and the way back is faraway. I insist you shall wait, and dine with us." It was a surprise, coming from him.

'"That is, if he will allow it," he said looking at the old man. The old man nodded in acceptance. I had no reason to refuse. If anything, it was a chance to know more about this now-free slave and his life. And whatever happened to him.

'"Do we not have the capsicums?" said the young lady when she fetched the material in the kitchen area.

'"Do we need it?" the man asked. "We have a guest at our place," she replied.

'"If it is for me, there is no need, kind ma'am." And she shook her head, "You are our guest today. Please allow us to do what we can. For I am sure you would have done the same if you were in our place."

I could not say anything more.

'"I will fetch them fresh from the farms," the young man said and was about to walk out of the house. "I shall join you," I said and followed him before the lady could resist.

'I remember we were walking through the fields, some distance away from the old man's house. My eyes went to the setting sun, wondering how fast the day had ended. "How did you get that wound?" I asked him, finally addressing the dressing on his belly.

'"Luckily." he replied. "My wife was collecting the woods this morning when she was attacked by a wild boar. I dashed and took the beast on me, saving her."

'"It is a- really deep wound."

'"It is nothing new," he replied and went quiet for some time. Later, he asked, "If I may ask, what do you think about this accused slave person? What must be the reason behind him killing his master?"

'I smiled, "I am surprised you did not ask if I believe he really killed his master. As if, you have already accepted that he did kill his master." And he could say nothing to my reply. "I think it was a rage act," I replied. "He no longer wished to stay slave, stay bound. So he killed the chains to set himself free.

'"I did not-" his voice broke. "I mean, I do not think my comrade could do something like that purely out of rage and wish to set himself free." And I had already understood what he was willing to say.

'"Your comrade, you say. I would like to know more about it. That is, if you wish to tell."

'He nodded, showing no hesitation, "We were brought here from the far east, the place of brutal, merciless warriors. We grew up under the belief of doing things to please our gods. My mother, Helga, herself was a slave brought from the far West to that land. But the owner saw potential in me, her son, and treated her as a concubine.

'"My people lived for wars, fights, conquering, to raid nations for lands and riches. We used to kill and conquer, sail the ships in the name of our gods, and believe a death in the battlefield is the only noble death a man could attend. But then I saw . . . the empty gaps in our beliefs. Something felt horribly . . . horribly wrong. So we ran away from the group. And our people.

'I could see him linger many times while he walked. That wound, though he said doesn't matter, was affecting his body and could have made his senses numb anytime.

'"We were chased, obviously," he continued. "The Jomking warriors like us are not allowed to leave. They call it 'betrayal to the gods'. There was a massive bloodshed and somehow my memories failed me after that. I only remember, only some managed to escape, survive with our weak bodies and dizzy minds.

'"I do not remember what happened then. I remember being sold as a slave and being migrated all the way here in these lines. Not all got good masters in the end."

'"They are masters after all," I said. "They are but the owners of the things they call slaves and owners can treat their belongings the way they please."

'"Are the slaves not people?" He protested. "Do they not bleed, sense pain, have the same body and consciousness as their masters? If only he had treated like normal workers, like- humans, I-" his voice broke. "I don't think he, my friend, would have attempted such a thing."

'I was quiet for a while. The man removed the big bucket off his back and once the vegetables were collected, the items were loaded. Many other vegetables, including capsicums, made the bucket more heavy. He attempted to pick it before his body reminded him of the wound he had in his belly and he collapsed. I grabbed him, and made him sit. Then, grabbed the big bucket.

'He resisted, "I can carry it you don't have to-"

'"Leave it at once, for I shall not say it again."

'He still had- hesitations, but he let me do that. I lifted the basket onto my back and we moved back. He asked me why I was so willing to help. "So I can eat from my own efforts," I replied. "And this body of yours would fail to take this back, anyway."

'"You already entertained him, the old man, in my absence. It's already a favour for me."

'While returning I asked again, "If I may ask, if he actually killed his master, do you think he did the right thing"

'He was quiet at first, then said, "I-I do not think it is about right or wrong." And he stopped speaking. I could notice he was hesitating, obviously. For I had known who I was with.