Free will - it is the gift of the gods. It is what separates him from the creatures I have taught him to summon; that, and the flesh beneath his armor, where the walkers have naught but the Dark.
I do not hear the whispers only because no one dares voice them, lest I think them to be contradicting my judgments. I am the leader, and he the follower, no matter what I may say about "partnership". He is a man, and I am something else, likened to the Lady who dances among our fires, untouchable. Many have abandoned that precious gift for Her, and most of that number for me also.
He is not one of them. Though his lips may have spoken the words, they press against mine with a fierce independance that proves his oaths to be lies - lies that even his own heart believes. John Hardin could never be an automaton, for his heart, though gullible, is too strong. Even when he kneels, it is because he chooses to kneel. He has been blessed, as all men are blessed, and yet...
Among our brethren, whose adoration and contrition sometimes seems as unnaturally complete as that of our summoned creatures, his free will is as much a blessing to me as it is to him. To have a soul, a body, which submits to mine without being asked or compelled - in the gods' unfathomable way, it may be a recompense for that which the Dark took from me.