Game of Thrones: I am Dothraki, not a barbarian

Chapter 39 On the Art of Standing in Line
High Court, Council Hall.

A knight ran in breathlessly, knelt on one knee, and put his right fist to his chest, "Madam, Your Excellency the Duke, Miss."

Olenna tapped the ground with her cane, signaling the knight to continue.

"I report to you all," the knight said, taking a deep breath, his voice hoarse, "Ser Garlan has been captured by the Dothraki near Nightsong!"

As soon as the words came out, the air seemed to freeze.

"what!"

Mace Tyrell was pacing back and forth in the hall. Upon hearing this, he stopped abruptly, his fat body began to tremble violently, and his face was full of disbelief.

"Damn Dothraki barbarians! How could they appear in Westeros?!"

Olenna's old face didn't show much emotion, but her slightly furrowed brows showed that she was suppressing her anger.

She slammed her cane against the ground, a loud bang echoing through the hall, shocking everyone.

"Tell me clearly! What happened?"

The knight's Adam's apple rolled as he answered cautiously, "Only one soldier was released. He said the horse thieves were Dothraki cavalry in disguise. Though few in number, they were exceptionally fierce. Lord Garlan was ambushed, outnumbered, and ultimately defeated and captured."

Margaery Tyrell, standing beside Olenna, felt dizzy upon hearing the news and quickly held onto the back of her chair to steady herself.

"Shouldn't the Dothraki be across the Narrow Sea?" she asked, her voice rising involuntarily. "Targaryen?"

She remembered Garlan, the handsome figure in armor, wielding his greatsword in the tournament, defeating challengers time and time again.

Garlan is more steady and reliable than Loras.

His swordsmanship is not as flashy as Loras's, but relies on powerful strength and calm defense. In the conflict with the Dornish, Garlan defeated the enemy with a small number of troops and relied on excellent command skills to repel the enemy, winning glory for the Tyrell family.

Garlan was so high-spirited at that time, and was the pride of the entire Tyrell family.

But now, her brother has fallen into the hands of the Dothraki barbarians. How can she not be worried?

"What should I do? What should I do?" Mace's face flushed red and he spoke incoherently, "How is Garland now? Will those barbarians...will they..."

"Shut up, Mace!" Olenna glared at her bewildered son. "You are the Lord of Highgarden, not a kitchen maid who has seen a rat!"

Mace was startled, wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, opened his mouth, and couldn't utter a word for a long time.

Olenna looked at the knight. "Go on. How is Garlan doing? Have the Dothraki made any demands?"

"The Dothraki King has expressed his desire to negotiate with the Tyrells regarding Lord Garlan's ransom. He also stated..."

"Speak!" Lady Oleanna paused with her cane.

"Say, if there are still any Tyrells left, any men who can be called men, let's go to the Hot Springs Lake upstream of the Sulphur River and talk."

"Negotiate?" Olenna narrowed her eyes, but her expression relaxed. "Interesting... a Dothraki actually knows how to negotiate, and even knows the Westerosi tradition of exchanging ransoms for prisoners. It seems this wild king is far more cunning than I imagined."

Margaery breathed a sigh of relief, knowing her brother was out of danger and still had hope of returning. However, she turned her head and became curious about the barbarian king. According to the soldiers who had returned, the barbarian king had actually used a trick to capture her brother, which completely did not match the description of the Dothraki in the rumors.

Rumor has it that the Dothraki are bloodthirsty, cruel and ruthless, and are accustomed to solving all problems with violence. They are absolutely incapable of being proficient in strategy, and will not leave anyone alive.

"Mother, we must not keep this appointment!" Mace said urgently, finally regaining some of his composure. "Who knows what the Dothraki are up to? We must gather our forces and fight them to the death!"

Olenna glanced at him coldly. "Master Inflatable Fish, Garlan is your own son. Do you want to watch him die? Is this how you make a judgment at the critical moment?"

Then, she changed the subject, "Negotiations are fine, but not at the location designated by the Barbarian King! Do you believe that barbarians and pagans will keep their promises?"

She tapped the ground with her cane. "Tell that barbarian king! Negotiations are possible, but the location must be Highgarden! If he has the courage to come, we can talk! If he doesn't dare to come,
Humph. Then let him execute Garlan! The Tyrells will not yield to anyone! "

She turned to Margaery and said, "You and Willas should come too."

"I understand, Grandma." Margaret immediately understood what her grandmother meant.

My grandmother was just as curious about this Dothraki king as I was, and she wanted to see him in person.

Although they were far away in Highgarden, they heard all the rumors going on in King's Landing.

Dothraki, Targaryen, bounty, assassination...

This was most likely Dothraki revenge.

She wanted to meet the barbarian king in person, perhaps she could find some information that would be useful to Highgarden.

If Targaryen returns to Westeros, these former vassals must choose their side accurately.

Tywin Lannister was an expert at choosing sides. At the last moment, he defected to Robert Baratheon's side, tricked the gates of King's Landing open, and killed the Mad King Aerys and Rhaegar's child as a token of his allegiance, thus gaining unparalleled power.

On the other hand, in Highgarden, when Rhaegar died in battle and Robert had already secured the victory, their bannerman, Lord Randyll Tarly, defeated Robert and left him destitute and humiliated. His reputation of being invincible was ruined. Where would the future king put his face?

His father also personally led the army to besiege Storm's End, and almost starved Robert's younger brother Stannis to death. As a result, Highgarden has been marginalized for more than ten years. Even if he smiled and sent money and food to Robert every year, he could not get a good face in return!

This is the consequence of standing on the wrong side!
At this time, the Dothraki King they were talking about was leisurely soaking in a natural hot spring pool in the Sulphur River.

The hot spring pool is surrounded by mountains and rugged rocks. The whistling water vapor rises from the cracks in the rocks, enveloping dozens of hot spring pools of various sizes around it in a mist.

The air was filled with a faint smell of sulfur, which was not pungent, but rather warm and very comfortable.

Winter is approaching, so what's the solution? Take a hot spring dip!

The warriors scattered around, set up a cordon, and surrounded the area tightly.

Laharo leaned against the stone wall, a towel on his head, a pot of summer red on the wooden board in front of him, enjoying the rare tranquility after the battle.

Not far away, Nymeria lay in the water, her black hair floating slowly on the surface.

Her milky white skin almost blended into the hot spring water, and her slender fingers carelessly fiddled with the water surface, but her beautiful eyes stared at Laharo fiercely, like a wild cat, ready to stretch out its claws and scratch him at any time.

(End of this chapter)