“Lord” was yet another word Orhan was unfamiliar with, but this time he did not let it faze him. If this stallion did stay for a time, then he would have ample opportunity to learn everything about him: where he had come from, what his culture was like, and why he spoke the strange words he did.
However, he was now fairly certain that they were terms of respect, and so he decided to address them. “Please,” Orhan interjected with a humble shake of his head. “I am the protector of this desert, but I am your equal. Address me as you would any other. Perhaps, by my name instead.” The corners of his mouth tugged into a slight smile. “I am Orhan.”
His suspicion prickled a bit when Jasper indicated that he was good with women, but, being determined to hold the stallion in good graces until proven otherwise, he maintained a cool expression. His words, however, were firmer than before. “That will not be necessary. There are no children here, and the mares are my family: here of their own will. If you do attempt to win their favor, it will be done honestly and respectfully. If I hear from them that your behavior is anything other than honorable, you will be invited to leave immediately.”
For a moment Orhan closed his eyes to fight against a wave of exhaustion and light-headedness. The hour was still late, and his adrenaline had run dry.
“Good night, Jasper,” he said then, and gave the dark stranger one last, long look before turning to retire in the shadows.
|
