Game of Thrones: I am Dothraki, not a barbarian

Chapter 159 Roland Has Made a Merit
"No need to chase any further!" Renly looked at the corpses strewn across the ground, his voice filled with the joy of victory. "Let's set up camp here and rest to conserve our strength. Next, we'll launch a surprise attack on Laharo's camp in one fell swoop!"

The knights cheered and began cleaning up the battlefield. Renly looked at Brienne, who was resting under a large tree. Although she was covered in blood, she had no wounds.

Brienne of Targaryen, that's what they called her.

Her eyes were big and blue, innocent and straightforward, but otherwise, her hair under her helmet was like a squirrel's burrow made of dirty straw, her face was round and rough, her teeth were protruding and uneven, her mouth was horribly wide, her lips were fat like caterpillars, and countless freckles were densely scattered on her forehead and cheeks. Her nose had been broken many times.

What creature in this world is more unfortunate than an ugly woman?

However, as her rainbow guardians, loyalty and strength are all that's needed.

Thinking of this, Lanli looked around and felt a surge of pride.

The captured Dothraki were bound, and the spoils of war were piled up like small mountains.

Another victory with over four hundred people!
The Dothraki are nothing special!
Lajalo was just lucky in Pentos! This time, he'll pay for his sins in blood!
Next, the soldiers set up camp and rested 20 kilometers south of the Summer Hall, and the cooks began to cook.

The air was filled with the aroma of oatmeal porridge and black bread as soldiers lined up to receive their rations.

The king's tent was unlike any other, made of large pieces of green silk. It was larger than the hall of an ordinary hotel, with a feather mattress and fur pajamas on the bed. Next to it was a large bathtub with a wooden plank inlaid with copper. A dozen charcoal braziers were placed in the corners of the tent. Cedar wood chests were filled with changes of clothes, books, and battle plans. A pair of red-tailed falcons were resting on a shelf.

At this moment, many generals had gathered together, sitting around a long oak table, their noise and laughter filling the air. The tent flap was opened, and servants brought out one exquisite dish after another.

There were pears cooked in strong wine, small fish fried until crispy with salt, roosters stuffed with onions and mushrooms, browned bread, piles of turnips, sweet corn and peas, fine ham and roast goose, and wild venison stewed with beer and barley.

The desserts were even more dazzling: cream swans, sugar sliver unicorns, rose-shaped lemon cakes, spiced honey cookies, blackberry tarts, apple tarts, and butter cheese.

Renly was exceptionally kind, often using the tip of his dagger to pick food for Margaret, showing meticulous care for the beautiful queen.

However, no one present noticed that Margaret's smile was somewhat stiff, and she would tense up slightly whenever Renly approached.

The king enjoyed the food and wine, but he did not drink excessively or overeat; however, some of his guests were not so restrained.

The Earl of William's sons argued endlessly about who would be the first to kill Laharlal, the Earl of Varna lifted a maid onto his lap and nuzzled her neck with his nose, Green Guard Goode proclaimed himself a singer and strummed his harp, and Sir Mark Mullendale teased a black and white monkey, feeding it with food from his own plate.

Just then, a knight lifted the tent flap and entered, kneeling on one knee.

He is Donald Sven, heir to the Sven family, a young and handsome knight.

“Your Majesty,” Donald said urgently, “I have just received news that Stonehelm has fallen to Rahalo, and my father, family, wife and daughters have all been captured!”

The laughter ceased abruptly, and Renly's wine glass froze in mid-air, his expression changing drastically: "When did this happen?"

"Yesterday at noon, the Dothraki used some kind of magic to blow open the city gates!"

Renly slammed his glass on the table: "Damn barbarian! Donald, your Swan family has always been loyal to Stormlands and has done great deeds. I will definitely help you take back your family castle!"

At this moment, Earl Roland Stormwind of Nightsong City also entered the main tent and said loudly, "Your Majesty, I have just returned from Red Earth with scouts. Lahalo has not entered Stonehelm City to garrison, but has set up camp twenty miles south of the city."

Their camp was poorly defended; the barbarians spent their days drinking and reveling, and there were hardly any sentries patrolling.

"Like Bono's camp?" Renly's eyes lit up.

“Indeed, Your Majesty!” Roland affirmed. “The Dothraki are always arrogant and conceited; they seem to think no army dares to challenge them.”

Lan Li suddenly stood up, his eyes flashing with a sickly light: "Earl Roland, you have done a great service!"

He turned to the generals present and announced loudly, "We'll assemble the troops first thing tomorrow morning, and on the third night, we'll give Rahalo a surprise!"

After the banquet ended, everyone dispersed.

Inside the tent, only Renly, Margaery, and a few servants remained. The oil lamp flickered, casting long shadows. Renly's gaze swept over the food on Margaery's plate, which was almost untouched.

"Are you eating birdseed?" He was a completely different person from his gentle self at the banquet. "Even a sparrow eats more than you." Margaret rubbed her fingers together and said softly, "I don't have much of an appetite."

A silence fell over the tent. Renly took another sip of his drink and suddenly said coldly, "I will tear that barbarian to pieces."

“Oh,” Margaret responded cautiously to every word her husband uttered, afraid of provoking his rage.

Renly dismissed the servants in the tent, and the tent flap fell, shutting out the last ray of light from the outside world.

Margaret looked at Lanley, swallowed unconsciously, and a hint of fear flashed in her doe-like eyes.

Lan Li slowly stood up and walked towards her step by step, and she subconsciously tensed up.

“My beautiful queen,” Renly’s voice was unusually gentle. He raised his hand, paused in mid-air, and then gently touched her cheek with his knuckles, causing her body to tremble violently.

"Are you afraid of me?" Renly asked.

“No,” Margaret tried to remain calm, “I’m just a little surprised.”

Their eyes met, and a strangely sweet scent filled their nostrils. Margaret mustered her courage and whispered, "Husbands and wives should cherish each other, not be filled with hatred."

Margaery knew that Renly's heart was filled with hatred for Laharlo, and that hatred was consuming him, and she didn't know why she had become his punching bag.

Moreover, ever since leaving Highgarden, Renly has kept a close eye on her. Others only thought that the king was very fond of the queen, but she knew that Renly did this to prevent her from revealing his two-faced behavior to her family.

Even her third brother, Loras, who was closest to Renly, was relegated to the rear guard.

Renly's expression suddenly darkened: "How do you know what love is? Have you loved someone else before?"

Margaret shook her head firmly: "Please don't insult me!"

"Before me, have you slept with anyone?" Lan Li demanded in a shrill voice. "Are you a virgin or not?"

"Please don't insult me!"

Margaret repeated the same words, tears streaming uncontrollably from her eyes, dripping onto the gold-threaded rose on her chest, spreading out dark water stains.

"Did you let Laharo sleep with you?"

Renly's face contorted with rage, a testament to his deepest fear and hatred. Rahalo had not only stolen his masculine dignity but also his wife's body and soul!

“You have no right to talk to me like that!” Sadness overwhelmed Margaret’s heart, and she finally couldn’t help but retort.

“Of course I have that right, you are my wife!” Lanley roared in her ear, making her eardrums buzz.

Margaret, unable to bear it any longer, suddenly stood up and glared angrily at Renly.

“I am Margaery Tyrell of Highgarden, daughter of Mace Tyrell, not your lowly servant!”

Lanley's expression changed drastically, his jawline bulged, and he grabbed Margaret's brown curly hair, forcing her to tilt her head back. He growled in her ear, "I won't allow you to talk to me like that!"

Margaret felt a sharp pain on her scalp as several strands of her hair were forcibly pulled out. She couldn't help but cry out, and her hair bun was also torn into a mess by Lan Li.

"No! You! Are! Forbidden! To! Disobey! Me!"

Renly gritted his teeth and suddenly shoved Margaret to the ground, her forehead hitting the wooden box with a dull thud.

He looked down at his wife on the ground, his voice twisted with malice, "Once I kill that bastard, I'll fill his skull with wine and feed it to you, and see if he can still satisfy you!"

Margaret curled up on the ground, covering her mouth, and wept silently.

(End of this chapter)