Maslakhat was no stranger to what the spring season would bring. Having seen the swollen midsections of two of his finest companions, pride too swelled within him at the notion that he would once more be a father to a pair of strong, capable children. And though the golden Akhal-Teke was hardly a first-time father, he had never before been present to meet his children so soon after birth.
In truth, he had never thought it important to take part in raising his children in his younger days, but now, having had the benefit of age and experience—and seeing the result of what became of children with semi-absent fathers—he had learned that his presence in his children’s lives would better enable their success once they came of age. But he does not wish to think of his grown children now, no. He had done them the service of their existence, and even though he did not consider his past choices failures, he did enjoy the opportunity to test a different approach this time around.
Sidika’s call to her side came in the night, sturdy and steadfast, not laden with panic but of pleasure, and as the golden bay stallion came galloping to her side, he saw his youngest son for the first time.
He beamed with delight as he inspected the colt—small but strong and blacker than a moonless night, he was everything Maslakhat had hoped he would be. His bright eyes moved to Sidika, and he stepped closer to her, touching his velvet nose to her cheek and exhaling softly to show his appreciation for her aptitude at producing such a fine child.
“He is exceptional, as are you,” he commended, before pulling back to regard his stoic golden healer, who was now much more than that.
Watching as the colt frocked about, testing the sand, he considered what the child might be called—perhaps Sid had already thought of something.
“What shall he be called?”
MASLAKHAT
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