He can feel her shadow behind him, the same as he felt it when they had their games of pursuit across the moonless summer nights of the recent past. It comforted him in a way, to know that she was there, watching like the careful creature she was.
The painted stallion peered over his shoulder before he spoke, almost as though he could feel her too, but he gave no indication otherwise. It was not until he revealed that he’d come by way of Solomon and then explained the entirety of his relationship with Shenzi, that Maslakhat understood why she hung back. Still, he listened intently to the deluge of information that came from the stallion’s lips—recalling that much of it had more or less matched what the seal brown mare had told him of her perilous journey. He was not a liar, but his perspective was vastly different, and it was suspicious that he mentioned Solomon’s role in how Shenzi had come to find herself here when the delivery of Sidika had been the result of the trade he’d made for Illusion. He too remembered Shenzi’s mention of Tinuvel, and he knew such a place was no more befitting of her than the Lagoon, from which this war had seemingly originated.
“I see,” Maslakhat said at last, his critical gaze assessing the sincerity of the painted stallion before him. “You must be her bright star then,” he offered, recalling again how she had mentioned only one individual of merit from her past. “And yet, even the brightest stars can fall from the sky,” the golden bay Akhal-Teke finished, feeling it necessary to offer this criticism of Collision’s choices to defend the honor of a mare who had been failed by so many before.
“Shenzi is under my protection, free to see and be seen by any she deems worthy of the privilege,” he continued again. “You say you did not abandon her, but it seems to me that’s exactly what happened—a result of bestowing your loyalty to the wrong cause.” However, Collision also communicated his awareness that his actions had resulted in a great deal of grief and loss for her, and his expression of regret, while sincere, seemed of little consequence with respect to making amends.
“However,” Maslakhat continued again with this in mind. “I will not belabor the weight of your mistakes,” the golden bay offered with a flick of his tail. “The mere fact that you are here now to atone suggests that you have learned from them, and that you truly no longer associate with those whose desires spread cruelty.”
Maslakhat tilted his head slightly to the side, catching sight of a brown ear tip peeking out from behind the steep slope of a dune in his peripheral vision. A corner of his lips turned up with a sly appreciation for her continued covert manner.
“Perhaps what’s of more interest,” the Akhal-Teke stated finally, “is which path you will walk now. One of complacency, or of retribution.”
MASLAKHAT
ateş düştüğü yeri yakar
|
|