He smirked at the slave. At not quite a yell he responded, "You wish for thank you's and freedom to feel happiness around here? You're a slave! What do you think that warrants?"
"Your body and soul are mine to control. I am your king!" he continued. "And they will continue to be until you wither and die. Then you get thrown out in back. In the moat you will be, so that your body will continue to serve me. You will then create a bile in the moat that will make enemies hesitate. There is one sign for your grave. 'Slave: Couldn't serve the master long enough. I will continue even after death.'"
"Do not think for a second that even if your body hurts and it is in agonizing pain that your free of your daily work. YOU'RE A SLAVE, MINE TILL I DIE! Then my bearers will own you! You want to question me further?" The king bellowed forth.
"But I cannot move my neck nor my right arm without searing pain. How will I tend the duties placed upon me?" The slave requested.
"You fool you still continue to beg pardon when I have justified the means to your end? I give you one more chance. Moat or life?" Replied the king.
"Life your graciousness!" The slave pleaded. Remembering this moment for it just dawned on him of how he was going to escape this servitude.
"Well since you seem so willing to live then I will give you the glorified job of cleaning the latrines. So that you may gaze upon the moat and realize how close you came to being driftwood in the water." Laughing to himself at his own joke. The slave took it as being dismissed and led one foot in front of the other bringing him to the task that was assigned to him.