Game of Thrones: I am Dothraki, not a barbarian

Chapter 218 Alliance at Mount Holy Mother

The "Horse Gate" of Vistos dothraki features two enormous bronze horses, standing on their hind legs with their forelegs raised high, forming a pointed arc more than fifty meters above the ground.

Rahallo rode a black warhorse, clad in Valyrian steel armor, the bells on his long braid jingling. Blood Guards followed closely on either side, while Daenerys rode a small silver pony, her violet eyes curiously looking around.

She was already six months pregnant, but still chose to follow tradition and ride alongside. The two passed together under the bronze archway and proceeded along the Avenue of the Gods.

Looking around, there were no buildings or people, only grasslands and roads, with ancient spoils of war that the Dothraki had plundered from various places over the centuries laid out on both sides.

These long-forgotten gods, once worshipped by the decaying city, still wave their lightning bolts towards the sky. Stone statues of numerous kings sit on their thrones, coldly looking down upon them, their faces eroded by wind and rain, their names now lost in the mists of time.

Besides these, there are various monsters on the grassland: a black iron dragon with jewel-encrusted eyes, a ferocious roaring eagle-headed sphinx, and a human-faced sphinx with a scorpion-tailed body raising its tail to stab.

“So many statues!” Daenerys exclaimed, her eyes dazzled. Her gaze then fell on a massive stone pillar covered in moss, standing fifty feet tall, by the roadside.

"Where exactly is the city?"

“It’s not far ahead,” Rahalo pointed with his riding crop and laughed. “It’s at the foot of the mountain. You can stroll around the western market; you’re sure to find what you’re looking for there.”

Afterwards, the large group arrived at the bustling western market, where caravans from Yidi, Yaxia, the Shadow Lands, and the Jade Sea coast traded, with the majestic Mount Our Lady towering overhead.

Daenerys opened her eyes wide and looked at the scenery around her.

Visdoslács was both the largest city she had ever seen and one of the smallest.

The city covers an area of ​​about ten pentos. It has no walls and no end in sight. The wide streets, weathered by wind and sand, are covered with grass and mud, and wildflowers carpet the ground.

In the free-trading city-state of Pentos, towers, mansions, houses, bridges, shops, and halls were all crowded together, while Vesdoslach stretched out lazily in all directions, bathed in the warm sun, appearing ancient, arrogant, and empty.

Every building she saw was different, each with its own style: stone tents carved with patterns, thatched mansions as large as palaces, dilapidated wooden towers, and stepped pyramids made of marble. Some palaces even had thorn hedges instead of walls.

“They all look completely different.” Dani’s mouth gaped open in surprise.

"The buildings you see were all built by Dothraki slaves. The Dothraki were not good at construction and had no idea what they would look like, so the slaves naturally built them according to the local customs and traditions."

After the procession passed the market in the east of the city, Lahalo ordered them to stop.

A large group of slaves were already waiting ahead to greet Lahalo. After dismounting, all the warriors unfastened their scimitars and other weapons and handed them to the slaves beside them, including Lahalo.

“Weapons are forbidden in the city, and other free people must not be harmed,” Rahalo explained to Daenerys. “Under the watchful eye of Mount Our Lady, even the khalasars who are at war will temporarily set aside their hostility and drink mead together. The priestesses of Dorsilin say that this represents that all Dothraki are of the same bloodline, belonging to the same khalasar, the same people.”

...

Night fell, and campfires flickered. Zheko, carrying Rahalo on his back, sat around a campfire with several Kaos from various parts of the Grass Sea.

Lahalo announced that he would hold a meeting at Mount Santa Maria, where he would elect a Khal of Khals, and anyone recognized by the people could cast a vote.

The aroma of mare's milk wine wafted from the horn-shaped glass, and the smoke from the roasted meat filled the air, gradually heating up the atmosphere under the influence of alcohol.

“Zeko! My brother,” Agokao raised his cup, a glint of light in his eyes, “Rahalo may be powerful, but he is, after all, the son of a shrew; his heart is not in the Grasslands. He says he will lead us to the Andal lands to attack those stone houses, but that is not our homeland!”

Zheko gulped down a mouthful of wine, wiped the grease from the corner of his mouth, and said, "So what? You've all witnessed the power of Lahalo."

"Hmph!" Tolokao sneered, tearing off a piece of roasted horse meat and stuffing it into his mouth. "His power comes from those exploding iron pipes! That's not a gift from the horse god, it's the evil magic of a foreign race! We Dothraki only believe in the scimitar in our hands!"

Batu Kao said in a deep voice, "Rahalo wants us to wear iron armor, just like those Andari. He wants to change our traditions and turn us into sheep-men like him!" Mulo Kao bluntly stated, "Zheko, you come from the five tribes of Kadoc, you know the rules of the Grass Sea better than anyone else. Although Rahalo is powerful, his bloodline is impure!"
You are the true Dothraki! I admire no one but you! I can't vote for him!

Zheko's gaze swept over every Khao present. Their eyes were filled with probing. He knew their dissatisfaction with Rahalo stemmed not from anything else, but simply from their unwillingness to relinquish their power.

He gulped down a large mouthful of wine and slammed the horn cup down on the ground.

“You’re right!” Zheko said in a deep voice. “Rahalo’s heart is not in the Grasslands. What he wants are the iron chairs in those stone houses! But I, Zheko, am the true Dothraki!”

He suddenly stood up, his tall figure appearing particularly majestic in the firelight.

"I, Zheko, am capable of competing with Rahalo! I will lead you, following the guidance of the Horse God," he surveyed the crowd, his gaze piercing, "at tomorrow's meeting, when Doshicarin asks who the Khal of Khals is, I will step forward!"

The Khosahs' eyes gleamed with fervor as they raised their glasses, chanting Dzeko's name, before downing them in one gulp!

...

The next day, all the Khao, regardless of age, gathered from all directions with their khalasars.

Tents dotted the plain like stars, smoke from campfires rose into the sky, and the neighing of horses echoed throughout the land.

This is an unprecedented grand alliance in Dothraki history, and everyone knows that the fate of the Grass Sea will be rewritten at this moment!

Surrounded by Blood Alliance guards Lazar and Quello, Lahalo slowly walked toward the meeting place on Mount Our Lady.

"Warriors of the Grass Sea, we gather here today to elect a Khao of Khao, a leader who can lead the Dothraki to the future!"

The crowd began to stir, with someone shouting, "Rahalo! I support Rahalo, the Son of the Ironblood!"

However, some people were still calling out: "Zheko, Zheko!"

Surrounded by the crowd, Zheko also walked to the center of the arena. He stared directly at Rahalo, his eyes burning with fighting spirit.

Lahalo's eyes narrowed, and the Blood Guards Lazar and Quello beside him unconsciously gripped their sword hilts.

"Fellow Khao!" Zheko's voice resounded throughout the alliance grounds. "I, Zheko, believe myself to be more qualified than anyone else to be the Khao of Khao! I will follow the guidance of the Horse God and let our iron hooves trample the world!"

Among the crowd, those khao who had participated in the conspiracy the previous night began to make a fuss, while some khao hesitated.

Zheke continued, "Those who agree to me becoming the Khao of Khao, please stand on the right!"

At this moment, the atmosphere reached its peak. The crowd began to surge, and Agokao was the first to stride to the right, followed by Tolo, Mulo, and Batu…

Those who had participated in the conspiracy the previous night and harbored resentment towards Lahalo moved to the right one by one. Some Kho and fence-sitters with the same ideas also followed hesitantly, and the number of people on the right quickly increased to more than a dozen.

However, there were still more than twenty people on the field. They remembered the fate of Fogo and the five parts of Kadoc, and the cannons that spewed flames. In the end, fear overcame ambition, and they chose the left side.

Rahalo smiled slightly and looked at Dzeko.

"So, is there anything else you want to say?"

Dzeko gave Rahalo a deep look, nodded slowly, and said softly, "Let's do it!"

His voice wasn't loud, but it sent chills down the spines of the Khoos!
(End of this chapter)