Game of Thrones: I am Dothraki, not a barbarian

Chapter 164 Beating Bono
“I don’t want a manor or a villa. I’ll buy it myself if I want one.” She took Garland’s arm. “I’m sleepy, come keep me company.”

Before anyone could react, Vera had already pulled Garland across the hall and disappeared into the corridor.

Everyone was completely bewildered, wondering what they were up to, while Mace stood there with his mouth agape, unsure of what to say.

Suddenly, a series of screams came from the restaurant next door, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps, and finally, Vera's happy laughter and screams, along with the rhythmic clattering of tables and chairs and heavy breathing. The elegance and nobility of Highgarden vanished completely.

"Gods above!" a noblewoman exclaimed, quickly covering her child's ears.

Another wealthy woman covered her mouth, listening to the lewd sounds coming from next door. She glanced at her husband beside her and showed a disdainful expression.

The knights exchanged meaningful glances, their lips curving upwards involuntarily, and one of them had to cough repeatedly to hide his laughter.

Mays stood there completely stunned.

It was like being slapped across the face. As the sound grew louder, his face turned from red to purple, then from purple to black, veins bulged on his forehead, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white.

"Morally depraved! Absolutely unacceptable!"

Mays finally snapped, slamming his fist on the table. The wine glass jumped, splashing red wine everywhere.

"Guards! Separate those two!"

Not a single guard moved an inch.

This order is simply impossible to carry out!
Mays looked around and, seeing that no one paid any attention to him, his face looked as if he had been struck by lightning. He angrily walked toward the restaurant, but his arm was hooked by Olena's cane.

"Sit down, Inflatable Fish Lord." The Thorn Queen's eyes twitched violently. "Galan is your son! Aren't you afraid of getting a sty if you rush in now?"

Reminded by her mother, Mays was at a loss and stood there dumbfounded.

Renly's expression was complicated. He had completely lost his talent in this area. This act of cursing a bald monk in front of a monk reminded him of the arrow that struck him at the foot of Pentos. A sharp pain came from below again.

Olena broke the awkward silence first, "On the bright side, Garland should agree."

...

Meanwhile, Margaret was trapped in a valley in the Crimson Mountains, placed in a small cave on the mountainside, more than ten meters above the ground.

The entrance to the cave was barely large enough for one person to pass through, only four or five square meters in size. A piece of animal hide was laid on the uneven stone surface, a few pieces of dried meat and a jar of spring water were placed in the corner, and a toilet was placed opposite. Eating, drinking and relieving oneself all happened in this narrow space.

Margaret, who was used to a refined life, could no longer tolerate the environment after three days and threw a tantrum.

“Tell Lahalo I’m on a hunger strike!” she said stubbornly, lifting her chin.

Helpless, the guards hurriedly left. Soon after, Rahalo appeared at the cave entrance, his towering figure almost blocking out the sunlight.

Why throw food away?

"Dried meat is called food?" Margaret rolled her eyes.

Her hair was disheveled, her fair face was covered with black finger marks, her gorgeous silk dress was stained with dirt, and her socks were torn.

Rahalo stroked his chin, looked at her, and suddenly sneered, "If you don't eat, you'll starve to death. Let's see how long you can last."

"You wouldn't dare let me die!" A sly glint flashed in Margaret's doe-like eyes. "You said I was your cash cow. So, either you meet my demands, or I'll starve to death, and you won't get a single penny!"

“What do you want?” Rahalo asked.

“First, I want a bath.” Margaret immediately seized the opportunity, counting on her fingers, “Then a clean and tidy tent, then decent food, rosé wine, honey cake, lemon cake, berry platter, all the things you ate in Highgarden, I want them all, and I also want a maid.”

Lahalo shook his head without hesitation. "I only eat dried meat normally. However, I can take you to the nearby hot springs where you can take a bath. That's all."

“No,” Margaret insisted, “I want to stay in a tent!” “Tch,” Rahalo shrugged, “then I’ll take you back to Highgarden.”

“Really?” Margaret’s eyes lit up.

“Dream on,” Rahalo looked down at her. “If you don’t eat, I’ll force you to eat. Take a bath if you want, even if you stink like a pile of dog shit, I can still get the Golden Dragon from your father.”

After saying that, he turned and left, leaving Margaret alone in the cave, gritting her teeth. The more she thought about it, the angrier she became. She grabbed the piece of dried meat and threw it towards the cave entrance, but only heard a dull thud as the meat hit the rocks.

As night fell, torches outside the cave illuminated a small section of the space. Margaret huddled in a corner, contemplating the possibility of escape.

Suddenly, an unfamiliar figure appeared at the cave entrance. It was neither Laharo nor the usual guard.

"Who?" she asked alertly.

A burly Dothraki man entered, his scars on his face appearing particularly terrifying in the firelight. He sized Margaret up and down, his eyes gleaming with a wolf-like light.

“My name is Bono.” He patted his chest and walked towards her with a sinister grin. “The Queen of Andari, I haven’t played with her yet.”

"Don't come any closer! Rahalo won't allow anyone to hurt me!"

Margaret screamed, but Bono ignored her. She quickly backed away until her back hit the stone wall. Bono moved even closer, and she could smell the strong odor of alcohol on him.

“It was Rahalo who sent me. He’s going to send you to the grasslands and make every Dothraki pay you.”

"Rahalo! Help! Rahalo!"

In her haste, Margaret grabbed the toilet next to her and poured it over Bono's head, splashing him with excrement and urine.

Bono wiped his face, his nose twitched, and he suddenly flew into a rage, roaring as he lunged at Margaret.

"You little bitch!"

She picked up a sharp stone, intending to slit her throat, but it was too late; Bono's large hand grabbed her wrist.

Suddenly, a dark figure flashed into the cave and kicked Bono several times before he crashed into the stone wall and came to a stop.

It's Lahalo.

"What did I say? You're not allowed to touch this woman!" Rahalo said, each word distinct, his eyes burning with murderous intent.

Bono swayed as he tried to get up, but Lahalo didn't give him the chance.

He grabbed Bono's hair and punched him hard in the face again. The crisp sound of bones cracking echoed in the narrow cave. Bono groaned in pain as blood gushed from his nose.

"How dare you disobey my orders?"

Lahalo kicked Bono squarely in the stomach, causing him to curl up like a shrimp and groan in pain.

Lahalo grabbed Bono by the collar, dragged him to the cave entrance, and threw him down. Bono's body rolled down the rock wall like a tattered sack, making a series of muffled thuds.

Margaret huddled in the corner, trembling, her hands tightly wrapped around her knees. Her eyes held both fear and a strange sense of relief. She looked at Rahalo's tall figure and was about to say thank you, but he didn't even glance at her before striding away.

"I challenge you to a duel, you dishonorable bastard!" Lahalo's roar echoed throughout the camp.

Rahalo stood in the center of the field, his handsome face flickering in and out of the light of the torches.

Bono betrayed him long before he killed Drogo. Lahalo had wanted to kill Bono for a long time, but as a Khal, he couldn't do whatever he wanted, especially against his own people, so he couldn't find a reason.

Now that Bono has delivered himself to his doorstep, it's no wonder he's showing no mercy.

(End of this chapter)