‘No, my duke, he is not dead, but he flutters close to it.’ The healer spoke in a gentle voice full of deference. ‘Would you finish him now, or send him back to be fed up again for a later treatment?’ Greed and caution warred in the Duke’s face. Abruptly, he pushed the thin wrist away from his mouth. ‘Take him away. Bid my daughter feed my fine blue cow fat again.
