As Maslakhat spoke, one ear twisted back atop Orhan’s crest. Liar, he thought, then immediately backtracked. No, he only twists the truth. The Akhal-Teke stallion was cunning - as El Aran would have had Orhan believe all Akhal-Tekes were - and their first and last meeting was still as clear to him as if it had happened yesterday. When questioned, El Aran and Maslakhat had denied knowing each other, and yet the stallion’s last words - tactically spoken in El Aran’s mother tongue - had suggested otherwise: I know what you are hiding.

Thus, Maslakhat may have been feeding him the truth, but Orhan sensed it was not the whole truth. There is something missing here. Orhan’s eyes bore solemnly into Maslakhat’s. I will find your secret, he promised silently. Outloud, he said in a monotone, “I hear you. Thank you for the message. You may leave now.”

Stiffly, the buckskin stallion turned to leave, his tail flagged and his neck arched. Across the sands he travelled for a minute or so, head low and mind racing with this new information. But before he could disappear from sight completely, Orhan paused in his stride briefly, lifting his head and throwing a glance behind him to be sure the pair were indeed leaving. He would not make the mistake of trusting them completely.