Game of Thrones: I am Dothraki, not a barbarian

Chapter 192 Pudding Face's Song, Lahallo's Play

"Father!"

Shirin's innocent blue eyes were full of tenderness. Unfortunately, her face wasn't pretty; she had her father's prominent square jaw and inherited her mother's large ears.

Worse still, she had contracted polio since childhood. Half of her face and neck had stiff, necrotic skin that was dry, cracked, and peeling, with black and gray spots, and it felt like stone to the touch.

Patchface followed behind, limping. He wore a tin bucket helmet with antlers tied to the top and cowbells hanging from it. With each step, the bells rang incessantly: clang, thud, jingle, clatter.

“Adin sings for Father!” Shirin said.

The patched-face man began to sing, his voice high-pitched and thin, "The white-bearded man is pulling a girl to dance, sir, dance, sir! The statue is alive, the statue is alive, I know, I know, oh oh oh!"

He sang and danced, the bells on his antlers swaying wildly.

Stannis frowned. "That's enough. Take her out."

But Patchface remained unmoved and continued singing and dancing.

"Underwater, we're eaten by fish! Here, fish are eaten by us! Fire is falling from the sky, the flames are green, blue, and black, I know, I know, oh oh oh! Warships are like skeletons! I know, I know, oh oh oh!"

Davos stepped forward to pull the jester away, but Patchface dodged him.

"King, oh King, the waves are higher than the city walls! The ship is sunk, the people are dead, and the crown has fallen to the bottom of the sea! I know, I know, oh oh oh!"

Stannis jumped to his feet and yelled, "Shut up!"

Shirin looked terrified and backed away repeatedly, "Father, Adin was just singing..."

Davos took Shireen's hand, and they heard Patchwork Face still humming softly: "The throne is empty, the dragonstone is cold. The white-bearded old man comes to visit, I know, I know..."

Even after her daughter left, the song by Patchwork Face still seemed to echo in her ears.

The white-bearded man dances with a girl, while the throne remains empty.

The old madman's words haunted Stannis like a curse.

He shook his head, trying to banish the thought from his mind.

He is Stannis Baratheon, the rightful heir to the Iron Throne! No rumors can stop him!

...

Pentos, Governor's Palace.

Arya woke up gasping for breath, her heart pounding wildly.

A metallic scent of blood filled her nostrils. She dreamt again of the ghostly leopard, following it through the birch forest on the outskirts of Pentos. It was now hiding there, waiting for her call.

She sat up and touched her shaved head; the stubble was a little prickly.

She had lice on her head, which was not a big deal in itself, but Lahalo treated it as a major threat, saying that lice could spread disease. He forcibly shaved her head bald, threw her into a bathtub and soaked her from head to toe, and ordered the other maids to apply quicklime to her head.

She got up and dressed; her idol, Vera, was taking her to the theater that evening, which excited her. Finally, night fell, and she walked down the street with Vera and Sir Garland, weaving through the crowds of vendors and pedestrians.

Spice merchants hawked cinnamon and pepper in loud voices, while silk vendors' stalls were filled with colorful fabrics.

A barbecue vendor was turning over lamb skewers, the fat dripping onto the charcoal and sizzling, filling the air with a delicious aroma.

The wheels of the donkey cart made a monotonous creaking sound on the stone road, occasionally mixed with the neighing of horses and the laughter of children.

There are no flea dens here. Even in the slums, most people have jobs. Farms and mines are hiring every day, and the wages are getting higher every day. Everyone's face is filled with a happy smile.

The three arrived at the theater, a tall stone building with exquisite wrought iron latticework decorating the windows.

A huge poster was pasted at the entrance of the theater, announcing that a new play was being performed today. She went closer and saw that there were two plays.

The first book is called *The History of the Dothraki Wars*. *Tch*, Arya scoffed. Self-aggrandizing, boring.

She looked at the next scene, her heart leaping into her throat.

The second book is called "The Fall of House Stark".

The poster depicts a young man wearing a crown and a black cloak, holding a long sword, with a dire wolf crouching beside him. The background shows a battlefield with corpses lying haphazardly on the ground.

Next to it, written in cursive script: From the victory at Golden Tooth City to the betrayal at Twin Rivers City, witness the rise and fall of the Young Wolf Lord.

She almost fell to the ground, but luckily Galan caught her in time.

"The three of you. Would you like to watch a show?"

A greasy voice sounded beside me.

She looked up and saw that the theater owner was a fat, bald man with a few sparse whiskers on his chin.

“What is the content of this scene?” she asked, pointing to the man playing Robb.

The boss patted his large belly and introduced the play with great enthusiasm: "Miss, you have excellent taste! This is a script personally written by the Commander-in-Chief of the Imperial Guard! A full six-act drama!"

The first act is the Battle of Oxford, the second act is the conquest of the Westerlands, the third act is Robb's love affair, the fourth act is Tywin's plot against Bolton, the fifth act is Tywin's alliance with Frey, the sixth act...

He lowered his voice and said mysteriously, "I can't give away any spoilers!"

Vera pursed her lips and turned to Garland, "Which one do you want to watch?"

Garland scratched his head awkwardly, about to speak, but Vera, stroking her large belly, had already made the decision for him.

"Let's watch the second part. I don't think you'd be interested in seeing yourself captured alive by Lord Kao on stage!"

"Hehehe..." Garland gave an awkward laugh.

Vera bought tickets for three people, and Arya followed the two into the theater, which was packed with people and filled with noise.

The lower level was occupied by merchants and officials, the middle level by nobles and wealthy merchants, and the top level by slaves, commoners, and the poor.

Vera was about to give birth and didn't want any trouble. They had bought mid-level tickets, and as soon as they sat down, the gong sounded and the curtain slowly rose.

Act One: The Battle of Oxford.

The stage was set up as a castle, and a young actor played Robb, who was tall, had brown hair, and wore a black fur cloak.

Holding a horse's head in one hand as if it were a real horse, and a longsword in the other, he bypassed the wooden sign that read "Gold Tooth City" and, in a place called Oxford, cut down Lannister soldiers with lions embroidered on their chests one by one as if they were vegetables.

Finally, he grabbed the actor playing Sterling Lannister and slashed him with his sword!
Stevie shrank back, then threw a wooden ball with a helmet on it, and that was how he got his head chopped off.

At this point in the performance, the audience erupted in thunderous applause.

Arya was thoroughly enjoying herself, and she couldn't help but think of the real Robb, her brother.

He wasn't that tall and imposing, but he had a gentle smile and always patiently taught her how to shoot arrows.

Those wonderful memories made her long to return to her hometown and see her family.

Act Two: The Battle of the West. A huge map is placed on the stage, and the actors use small flags to indicate the movement of the army.

Robb divided his forces to attack and won several consecutive victories.

The audience cheered for every victory, but Arya knew they were just watching for the spectacle; they would have applauded if the Lannisters had won.

(End of this chapter)