Game of Thrones: I am Dothraki, not a barbarian

Chapter 49: Song of Sand and Grass

Your circle is so chaotic! Laharo shuddered.

But then again, Tanya is indeed a rare beauty. She is young, tall, and plump, with a pair of disproportionately long legs. She also has the passion and unrestrainedness unique to women in the free city-state. Without exaggeration or understatement, she can give you a score of nine.

One point deduction because this is indeed crazy.

After a while, there were bursts of warm applause and cheers in the room.

After a while, Lazar came out and looked at the envious warriors with a satisfied look, and led them to take out the gold coins according to Tanya's instructions.

Soon, they came to a heavy iron gate. They opened it with a key and the torchlight shone in. Everyone held their breath.

The room was filled with jewelry, gold, silver, silk and handicrafts, shining golden on the faces of every warrior.

In addition to the Tyrell family's 200,000 gold dragons, in the center of the vault, a wooden box was neatly stacked with palm-sized gold ingots, which were estimated to be at least 5,000 pounds.

Lazar was almost blinded by the dazzle. He gritted his teeth and said, "Take away all the gold and silver. If you can't take it away, scatter it among the civilians along the way."

After saying this, my heart felt like it was bleeding.

At the same time, Jiku also walked out of the room, his eyes fell on Orton, and he gloated towards the room and said in non-standard Common Language:

"Go in."

Orton's face was pale, his fists were clenched, and he walked into the room with stiff steps. As soon as he stepped through the door, before he could see the scene inside the room clearly, a dagger stabbed into his chest.

Orton's body trembled, his eyes widened, and he looked down at the dagger, blood slowly soaking into his clothes.

"you you……"

His lips trembled and he slowly raised his head.

Tanya slowly placed Orton on the ground and whispered in his ear, "My dear, the one who killed you was a Dothraki."

Tears welled up in her eyes. "Don't worry. From now on, my son is the Earl of the Long Table Hall."

Orton opened and closed his mouth, wanting to say something, but the blood had blocked his throat, and in the end he could only utter an indistinct whimper, with blood rapidly spreading under his body.

A moment later, the door opened and Danya walked out slowly. She took off her only lace pajamas, wiped the blood off her hands, and looked up at Laharo.

"I've said everything I need to say,"

She had regained her composure. "Now, Lord Kao should fulfill his promise. Please protect us, mother and child."

She came from Mill, a free state famous for its trade. Her childhood experiences had taught her that in a world of great contention, the victors would only belong to those who knew how to seize opportunities.

The Dothraki have already set foot on the continent of Westeros. If there is a first time, there will be a second time. This land is destined to change. All she can do is go with the flow.

She chose to protect her life and that of her son in the most direct way, which was to give birth to a child for the strong man of Caohai.

Dothraki women do not have a high status, but every male is a valuable treasure.

A mother's status depends on her son.

She was willing to take a gamble on this. If she won, she could survive in future wars and even gain a place in them.

Laharo squinted his eyes and looked at her, probably guessing what she was planning.

I want him to take the blame!

However, this woman was smart and decisive, and she had taken the initiative to pledge her loyalty to Laharo. It would be a waste to kill her, and keeping her would be more valuable.

Just like Roland.

In the original plot, among the relatives and friends that Margaery brought to King's Landing was Danya. She walked between the Iron Throne and Highgarden, acted as a double agent, and had an affair with Cersei.

Cersei ultimately uprooted the Tyrells from King's Landing, yet Tanya escaped unscathed, a testament to her ability. He rampaged through the Reach, killing at least eighty sergeants, including Renly's Rainbow Guard, not to mention a single earl.

In exchange for a long table,

And a female spy who infiltrates Cersei's inner circle.

Rahalo raised his scimitar, the tip of the blade gently pressing against her belly. "If the child you're carrying is a boy, he will be the Earl of Long Table Hall."

Danya avoided Rhallor's gaze, a sign of reverence in Dothraki tradition.

She slowly knelt before him again, with her palms facing upwards as if offering an invisible tribute, and then lowered her head to kiss Laharo's riding boots.

"Great Kaa, lord of the Grass Sea, I will offer you everything I have, both body and spirit, and I will exchange my loyalty for your blessing."

The warriors' eyes turned towards her differently, because she was no longer a captive to be taken at will, but had a master.

...

The next day, High Court, meeting hall.

The sunlight filtered through the stained glass windows and fell onto the ground, creating a crisscross pattern of light and shadow. The hall was filled with silence, and the atmosphere was suffocating.

Mace walked into the hall, his armor still stained with dust and blood. He looked disheveled and his steps were heavy, as if he was carrying a heavy burden.

Olenna had been sitting here since before dawn, waiting for Mace for a long time. When she saw him come in, her anger was beyond words, and she slammed her scepter on the ground.

"Mr. Inflatable Fish! Look at your splendor now! This battle must have been quite exciting, wasn't it?"

When Mays heard this, the fat on his face twitched.

"Mother, they are too strong. We lost more than a hundred people..."

Facing Lady Olenna, the forty-year-old Duke of Metz acted like a child who had done something wrong, his voice becoming smaller and smaller until it was almost inaudible.

Olenna snorted. "What about the Dothraki? How much have they lost?"

Mace's Adam's apple rolled, and he finally squeezed out a few words with difficulty: "No, no..."

Olenna dropped the scepter in her hand to the ground with a roar like thunder. "Mace Tyrell, your duty is to defend the Reach, not to deliver a decisive victory to the enemy!
Tell me, how did you manage to get the fight to this point?"

Mace's lips moved, and those terrible scenes emerged in his mind. The barbarians on horseback turned around and shot arrows, and the River Bend people fell one by one, and then they turned back and attacked. The scimitars cut through the plate armor as easily as cutting a layer of sheepskin. It was chilling to think about it now!

"Mother, they are so fast. They can even turn around and shoot arrows while riding on horses. They are not afraid of death. Our vanguard was defeated by them in the first encounter. They are like... like..."

Olenna interrupted him impatiently:
"Like what?" she sneered. "Do you know how the Free States across the Narrow Sea treat the Dothraki? They feed their appetites with gold and silver!"

Margaret, who was standing aside, finally spoke, her voice soft and worried: "Father, are you hurt?"

Mace pulled the corners of his mouth and forced a smile, but it looked uglier than crying.

"It's okay, I'm not hurt..."

Olenna interrupted him again. "You have brought disgrace upon the Tyrells! You might as well have been injured and in bed, so you could have silenced the grieving mothers!"

Margaret looked at her pitiful father, feeling distressed, and could not help but pleading:

"Grandma, now is not the time to assign blame. We should..."

"shut up!"

Olenna glared at Margaery, then turned to look at Mace and said in a deep voice, "Mace, tell me, how long will it take us to assemble an army that can win this battle?"

(End of this chapter)