Maslakhat listened intently to the duo, feeling something like sympathy in his heart. He knew what it was like to lose a rightful home to famine, and how such conditions could destroy one from the inside out. He would never forget how he had found Zenith, nothing more than taut black skin wrapped around a skeleton, mania in his crystal blue eyes as he regarded Maslakhat like prey. He should have put him out of his misery right then, but something in him could not abide it. The bay Akhal-Teke prayed to his gods every day that he had not made a mistake in that regard.

He nodded slowly, keeping his gaze fixed upon the two of them. Maslakhat would not allow these two to usurp his and Valve’s authority here; they had trialed for this place and intended to keep their outpost here strong. However, the old adage of strength in numbers had some degree of truth to it, and thus he had no reason to want more of his own kind anywhere else but sharing the borders of the Dunes with them.

“I have no intention of driving two of my own kind away. These sands will always be home to any Akhal-Teke whose loyalties lie in the proper place.”

Maslakhat looked over his shoulder for Valve, but he did not see her. She must still be scouring the Desert for Yusuf.

“You should meet Valve as well, and I am sure that you will in time. For now, all I need is assurance that you will not let the enemies of this place prevail.”




MASLAKHAT
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