 Help her, the mare begged. Evren could do nothing but stare back into the stranger’s grief-contorted face with a faint frown. Was this mare so out of her mind that she truly believed her child could be brought back from the abyss? A sudden seed of doubt blooming within her, Evren’s eyes darted back to the tiny, limp foal on the ground, and she watched it for a long moment, just to be certain it truly was not breathing.
It was not.
She was spared the trouble of stating the obvious when the vision of a slim black mare materialized out of the sands before them. Evren knew immediately that it was Valve, though she had never seen the mare in the flesh before. Her father had spoken of their neighbor and ally once or twice in passing, always with the faintest tinge of… something in his voice. Evren had wondered if they did not get along, or if Orhan was afraid of Valve for some reason.
Now she could understand. Valve was an older mare, but her eyes were full of cunning and her presence carried an aura that instantly made Evren uneasy. Yet, she was also elegant in every sense of the word. Had she been younger, Evren might even have thought her beautiful.
The young mare became aware she was staring and tore her gaze away to glance briefly at the grieving mare at her side, to see her reaction to Valve’s presence. Given the familiarity in the Akhal-Teke’s choice of words, Evren reasoned that they must have been part of the same herd.
“You must be Valve,” she said in a low voice, and passed a brief glance over the body on the ground. “I was on my way over from the Desert, and I found them like this. I’m so sorry.” Her eyes darted back and forth between the two mares, finally resting on those of the mare with the curved ears. “I know the pain you feel. I lost someone recently too.”
|