"Ekbar has returned, Most-High," the slave replied, cringing. "I told him you were sleeping but he demanded that I arouse you at once."
The nobleman bounded from the bed and caught up his tunic. "Where is he?"
"In the outer chamber, Most-High."
"Good. Tell him I'll be out immediately."
When Vokal entered the wide living room he found the captain of his guards standing at rigid attention just inside the door. The nobleman, his tunic fresh and unwrinkled, his thick grey hair as smoothly brushed as though this were midday instead of the dead of night, strolled to a nearby table, poured out a single glass of wine and sank into a chair. His thin shapely fingers lifted the goblet slowly to his lips, he sipped the liquid as slowly, savoring its bouquet. Finally he put down the goblet and swung his dreamy-eyed gaze to the uncomfortable and self-conscious captain of the guards.
"Well, Ekbar?" he said softly.
"He is dead, Most-High."
"Indeed? You took care of the matter yourself?"
"No, Most-High. He was killed many suns before my men and I came upon his men. Sadu, the lion, slew him."
Vokal stiffened slightly. "How do you know this?"