Across the wide stretch of the dunes he saw nothing but sand ahead of him. A’idah evidently had decided not to linger after Maslakhat drove the ugly half-breed out, which was just fine—he didn’t particularly like having too many Arabians fluttering about. That included Gabbar as well, and though Valve had insisted that he be allowed to come and go as he pleased, the golden bay Akhal-Teke didn’t like the idea of him breathing down his teyze’s neck all the time.

Nonetheless, he was not about the challenge Valve’s authority, lest he end up like the blind seer. In fact it had been some time since he had seen the black Akhal-Teke; presumably she was looking for Yusuf now that El Aran was dead. The fact that she had not returned yet could only mean the search was proving difficult still.

Maslakhat snorted, hoping that wasn’t entirely the case. It should not be this difficult to ascertain the whereabouts of a blind mutt. Hence why it made sense that El Aran was responsible for protecting him. Of course, he never did have definite proof that this was true. Either way, it didn’t matter. If another had now assumed that responsibility there was no doubt in his mind that he or she would be cut down just as brutally.

For now, the warden of the Dunes would wait and see.



MASLAKHAT
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