Game of Thrones: I am Dothraki, not a barbarian

Chapter 216 Astapor Arena

News of the Red Wedding quickly spread throughout Westeros. Over the next few days, various versions of the story circulated in taverns and marketplaces:

"Have you heard? Stark's youngest daughter has returned, leading over a thousand Slark warriors and hundreds of wolves!"

"I heard that she single-handedly slaughtered all the descendants of the Bolton and Frey families!"

"The Starks have occupied the Twins and the Dreadfort, and have amassed an army of ten thousand, preparing to retake Winterfell!"

These reports shocked the lords of the Riverlands and the North. Lords dispatched messengers to the Twins to reaffirm their loyalty to House Stark. Other nobles, wavering between the Lions and Wolves, also voiced their condemnation of the Frey and Bolton families' betrayal.

When the news reached Winterfell, the entire castle erupted in celebration. Servants celebrated with tears in their eyes, chanting the name of House Stark.

Theon Greyjoy, who reigned supreme in Winterfell, was terrified, as if a sword were hanging over his head, ready to fall and tear him to pieces at any moment.

King Balon had initially opposed Theon's attack on Winterfell, but in order to overshadow his sister Asha and gain votes at the future election, he exploited the Stark family's trust, tricked them into opening the city gates, and massacred all the guards and servants loyal to the Starks.

Now, he is caught between staying and leaving, filled with remorse and unable to eat or sleep properly.

In the Westerlands, Tywin Lannister, overwhelmed by the daily war, had been hoping for good news from House Frey and House Bolton to ease his burden. However, to his surprise, the long-missing youngest daughter of House Stark had joined forces with Laharo, not only bringing back Dothraki cavalry but also ruining his long-planned wolf-hunting scheme. His face immediately turned ashen.

The three major lords are already struggling to cope. If the Starks and Tullys are added to the mix, the destruction of the Lannisters is practically a foregone conclusion!

Just then, a messenger brought news: "My lord! Something terrible has happened! Lannisport has been attacked by the Ironborn!"

"what?"

Tywin stared in disbelief, his wine glass clattering onto the table, staining the battle report a deep crimson.

...

Essos, near Astapo.

The prison wagon jolted forward, its wooden wheels grinding over gravel with a harsh, unpleasant sound. Eddard Stark huddled in the iron cage, the shackles on his wrists worn raw and bleeding. His once imposing face was now covered in scars, and his beard lay unkempt on his chin.

Beside him were two strong, fierce-looking slaves covered in scars, who also appeared to be gladiators.

Not far away, a dozen or so cavalrymen were clearing the way ahead.

"The wolf king who has never been defeated, your end has come."

Wolf King was the name Ed gave himself. In this land, there were far more enemies than friends, and he dared not reveal his identity.

The guard sat in front of the prison cart, holding a leather bag full of cheap ale. He took a swig and chuckled, "The arena in Meereen is nothing like Astapor; the audience there prefers to watch wild beasts devour people."

Ed did not answer; his eyes remained fixed on the key at the guard's waist, which jingled as the carriage swayed.

For months, he had been waiting for the right moment to escape.

Now, he has finally been taken out of the gladiator school, away from Astapor, and brought to this coastline. If he can escape to the sea and jump into the ocean, he will gain his freedom!

“I heard Rahalo has captured another city,” another guard chimed in, reeking of alcohol. “Damn it, all of Pentos’s gold has flowed into that guy’s pockets, and now even Kohor is his. How long can Astapor hold out? Those Dothraki are truly terrifying!”

"I heard that Lahalo gets to eat roast chicken with every meal. He's such a lucky guy..."

The carriage suddenly ran over a rock, the carriage jolted violently, and the guard stumbled, dropping the wine jug in his hand to the ground. He cursed and hurriedly bent down to pick it up.

Ed winked at the other two gladiators and took the opportunity to pull a sharpened piece of iron from his belt and hold it in his hand.

"Damn road," the guard cursed, bending down to clean the stains off the wine sac.

"Now!" Ed suddenly reached his hand out of the cage, the sharp metal slicing across the guard's carotid artery. Blood spurted out, and the man, eyes wide with disbelief, collapsed.

Before the other guard could react, a Reis gladiator grabbed him by the throat, while another Iban gladiator swiftly seized the key from the guard's waist.

The Ibans hurriedly opened the cages, shouting, "Run!"

The three jumped off the carriage and galloped toward the distant coastline, the sound of hooves echoing behind them, and pursuers were fast approaching.

"There's a boat over there!" the Reis man shouted to the other two, pointing to a small fishing boat on the shore.

Suddenly, arrows flew past, and one of them struck the man from the Ries in the shoulder, causing him to scream and fall to the ground on the beach.

"Go! Don't worry about me!" the Risman said through gritted teeth.

Ed looked at the ship, then glanced back at the Reiss, finally stopped, ran back, and carried him on his back.

The honor of the North wouldn't allow him to abandon his comrades, especially since the Reiss had saved him in a previous battle.

"Are you crazy?!" the Iban shouted as he fled.

Ed, carrying the weight of two adults, gritted his teeth and pressed on, the sound of horses' hooves close behind him. Finally, Ed pushed the Reiss onto the small boat, and two arrows flew from behind, embedding themselves in the gunwale.

He pulled out an arrow and swung it wildly, trying to buy time for the two to escape, but he was ultimately held to the throat by a spear.

"Wolf King, you're quite the loyal one," the lead pursuer sneered. "Too bad you can't escape."

...

Astapo, the Grand Arena was bustling with noise.

The stands were filled with slave owners and free citizens, waving ribbons and cheering for the upcoming bloody spectacle.

Jorah Mormont sat in the VIP section in the center of the second-tier stands, next to the benefactor Krazny mo Nacroz. The fat man smiled broadly and kept toasting him.

"Your Excellency Ser Jorah, your master Rahalokao is truly generous!" Krazny rubbed his fat hands together. "Five thousand Unsullied in a single order—this is the biggest deal I've ever made in my life!"

“Of course, Khal Drogo’s reputation is widespread; even Robert Baratheon was defeated by him,” Jorah took a sip of his wine, “To Khal Drogo!”

"Cheers to Kao!"

Krazny raised his cup and drank it all in one gulp, then pointed to a corner of the arena. "The next match is a duel of one against ten. That gladiator called Wolf King is the strongest here. But yesterday he tried to escape, and according to Astapor law, a slave who escapes is sentenced to death. So, we specially arranged this spectacular performance!"

Jorah looked in the direction he pointed, and the arena gates slowly opened, revealing ten fully armed gladiators.

Some of them carried longswords and shields, some carried fishing nets and steel forks, and others carried double-edged giant axes, all exuding a bloody aura.

The host raised his hands: "Great citizens! Today we will witness an unprecedented duel! Ten warriors against one! Let us welcome, Wolf King!"

Another door opened, and a tall man slowly walked out, shirtless, with long black hair draped over his shoulders, holding only a rusty longsword.

The sunlight shone on his face, and he raised his hand to shield it. Then, when he removed his hand, Jorah saw the face he would remember for a lifetime.

He dropped his wine glass, speechless, and murmured, "Gods above, he's still alive!"

That's Eddard Stark!
The King in the North who once sat in the halls of Winterfell and sentenced him to death. The man who forced him to leave his homeland and become an exile because of a few damned human traffickers.

Ed also saw Jorah in the stands, and when their eyes met, time seemed to stand still.

(End of this chapter)