Game of Thrones: I am Dothraki, not a barbarian

Chapter 205 Switching sides in battle
In an instant, a strange change occurred!
The Reese sailor was prepared; he quickly drew his short sword and, taking advantage of their unpreparedness, pounced on Stannis, Davos, and Devon from behind.

"Salado! You traitor!"

Davos had barely uttered a roar when two burly men immediately dragged him off his horse and bound his hands and feet with ropes.

Stannis tried to draw his sword, but four or five Reissians pounced on him at the same time. Even with his superior martial skills, he could not resist such a close-range sneak attack.

The Lightbringer was taken away before he could even draw his sword, and his hands were tied behind his back.

"Traitor! Shameless traitor!" Dai Feng cursed angrily, but was quickly knocked unconscious.

The Braavos soldiers were stunned when they saw their commander captured.

Some tried to come to the rescue, but Salado's dagger was already pressed against the commander-in-chief's throat, and a trickle of blood flowed down. The soldiers looked at each other, at a loss for what to do.

"Don't make any rash moves!" Salado roared. "Your employer, the Iron Treasury, has made new arrangements! Lay down your weapons and you can save your lives!"

The officers were mercenaries, loyal to money, not ideals.

Without their commander and facing 30,000 cavalry, resistance was futile. They scattered in disarray, leaving behind a vast grassland dotted with armor and weapons, and deserters scattered everywhere – a truly magnificent sight!
Salado, leading three prisoners, swaggered toward the Dothraki camp.

He was led to Zheko by several Dothraki, where he bowed deeply and spoke in broken Dothraki:
"Your Excellency! Salador Thane presents you with a generous gift!" He kicked the ashen-faced Stannis hard. "This is Stannis Baratheon, the false king of the Iron Throne, and his right and left hands!"

Zheko, mounted on his horse, looked down at the Reiss man as if he were a disgusting maggot.

“Traitor.” His tone was full of disdain. “You think betraying your friends will earn you the respect of the Dothraki?”

Salado's smile froze on his face, but he quickly regained his obsequious expression: "Salado doesn't seek respect, only survival. I've heard that the great Lajalocao is kind and powerful, willing to accept useful people."

Zheko snorted and ordered his men, "Tie them all up, including this maggot. Khao will decide their fate."

"What?" Salado exclaimed in panic. "My lord, I have rendered service to you. You can't treat me like this!"

“The Dothraki don’t make deals with traitors,” Zheko said coldly. “If you can betray your friends, you can betray anyone.”

Salado wanted to argue, but the Dothraki warriors had already surrounded him.

He and his men were quickly disarmed, and all of them looked ashen-faced.

Although Stannis was bound, his spine remained straight.

He looked coldly at Zheko: "Tell your Khal that Stannis Baratheon never begs for mercy. Kill him if you must!"

For the first time, Zheko showed a hint of approval: "You have more backbone than that maggot Lis. Perhaps Kao will give you a dignified death."

On the grasslands, Braavos' army was routed without firing a single arrow.

The Dothraki warriors shouted loudly, galloped on their horses, captured prisoners, and collected equipment.

"Reporting, we captured over 13,000 Braavos soldiers in this battle! The rest jumped into the sea!" a warrior excitedly reported.

Zheko nodded, his gaze sweeping over the Braavos men bound by ropes, as well as Stannis, Davos, and Davon, who were all tied up.

The battle has been fought to such an extent that no one else has ever fought like this. More than 13,000 prisoners of war and nearly 30,000 soldiers equipped.

There were at least ten thousand weapons of various kinds, including short swords, poleaxes, bows and arrows, and a small number of crossbows. Around eight thousand sets of light chainmail, leather, and plate armor components. Several thousand warhorses, and hundreds of supply wagons.

The vehicle was filled with tents, cooking utensils, tools, and large quantities of food and water for the march.

Dozens of tons of grain, hundreds of tons of soybeans, bandages, hemostatic drugs, herbs, etc.—thinking of these enormous numbers, Stannis's heart was bleeding.

...

In Sir Barristan's eyes, Pentos has always represented depravity.

However, ever since he was pardoned by Daenerys and allowed to roam freely in and around the city, what he saw and heard repeatedly overturned his understanding and the knightly creed that was deeply rooted in his heart.

He arrived at the port, where King Robert's fleet had been thwarted and sunk, but now it was a bustling scene.

The enormous wooden cranes, converted from catapults, towered into the clouds. These war machines were used to lift heavy loads with astonishing efficiency.

Merchant ships unloaded their cargo at the dock, and huge wooden pallets, pulled by cranes, slid quickly and swiftly along the laid wooden tracks to the warehouse.

The tax collectors, carrying parchment, recorded the taxes under each crane, calculated the amounts due, collected the money, and then moved on to the next crane. The guards of the Shield of Pentos simply watched coldly, and no extortion occurred.

He once thought that King's Landing's port was the best in the world. But compared to Pentos, it felt like another dimension.

The air was filled with the smells of sea breeze, wood, and sweat, unlike the lingering stench of King's Landing.

The corpses of Stormland's elite soldiers were hanging conspicuously from three thousand wooden stakes beside the dock, reminding him of the ruthless methods behind this prosperity.

"Efficiency is gold! Anyone who slows down efficiency is throwing gold coins into the sea! Anyone who dares to throw gold coins into the sea, I'll chop off their hand!"

A customs chief named Golis of Pentos patrolled the various docks while shouting slogans, reminding every tax official to be loyal to their duties.

Barristan just found it funny.

The nobles of Westeros talk about honor and bloodline, while these barbarians openly talk about money and efficiency.

However, to his shock, Lahalo exempted necessities such as food and cloth from taxes and severely punished anyone who dared to profit from them.

He had thought the Dothraki only knew how to plunder, but he never expected that they knew such exquisite ways of governing a country!

The following morning, Barristan continued eastward and arrived at the Golden Plains.

This place was once destroyed by dragon flames, but now it is full of life.

A gentle breeze blows, and waves of wheat ripple across the boundless green expanse.

Barristan walked slowly along the field, with irrigation ditches beneath his feet. The water was crystal clear, and the fine sand at the bottom of the ditches was churning. Occasionally, eels would emerge from the cracks in the rocks, causing several children to scream and chase after them.

An elderly farmer from Lazarin was leading an ox, with someone behind him holding the plow handle, walking back and forth in a field that had not yet been cultivated.

Barristan had never seen such a strange plow before; its wooden frame was curved, its plowshare sharp, and the soil was turned over deeply and evenly, with the furrows as straight as a line.

"Old man!" he couldn't help but ask, "What's the name of this kind of plow?"

(End of this chapter)