Game of Thrones: Rise of the Supreme Dragon Queen

"Which khalasar are they from?" Daenerys asked.

"Ogo's khalasar," Aggo replied casually, showing no indignation about the plight of his fellow Dothraki. "They were part of the group Borno sold to Meereen as slaves. These youths were too young to qualify as gladiators but a bit too old to be trained as Unsullied.

Unable to serve as warriors, they could only be sold to estate owners in other city-states.

They're not very useful, so they aren't expensive—forty silver coins. I don't know why Blood of My Blood bought them."

"They are horsemen!" Daenerys emphasized, her tone firm.

"So what if they are? After a defeat, they either die or become slaves—everyone knows that," Aggo replied nonchalantly.

"In my khalasar, there are no slaves," Daenerys declared, snapping her whip for emphasis. "Remove their slave collars. I will ask them if they wish to join the khalasar of the Mother of Dragons, to become my people and fight for me."

"Your Grace, perhaps you should ask them first before removing their collars and chains," Whitebeard suggested quietly. "Ogo's khalasar was defeated by your husband. There are twenty of them, and only seven of us. If they all scatter at once, we won't be able to stop them."

"I seek the loyalty of free Dothraki, not slaves," Daenerys said firmly, shaking her head.

"They won't run," she added.

With a resigned sigh, the old man dismounted, positioning himself alongside the burly Belwas to guard Daenerys.

Aggo and three other Dothraki warriors stepped forward to unlock the slaves' chains and collars.

The metallic clinking of chains soon piled up into a heap on the ground.

The freed Dothraki youths flexed their wrists and rotated their stiff necks, savoring the long-lost feeling of freedom.

"Do you know who I am?" Daenerys asked.

The young Dothraki exchanged uncertain glances, some sneaking glances at her, but none dared to respond.

"Slaves don't have to speak, and I don't need slaves," Daenerys said coldly. "If any of you still remember that you are Dothraki, step forward and answer my question."

"K-khaleesi…" one boy stammered hesitantly.

Immediately, a chorus of voices followed, "You are khaleesi."

"Khaleesi of Khal Drogo."

"I've seen you before, khaleesi."

None of them called her the Mother of Dragons—they likely hadn't heard about the dragons yet.

"Do you wish to join my khalasar?" she asked again.

"Yes," one voice answered first, but it was quickly drowned out by a wave of dissent.

"A woman cannot lead a khalasar."

"Khal Drogo is dead. You should go to Vaes Dothrak and become a dosh khaleen."

Hearing their words, Daenerys smiled brightly instead of taking offense. "Good, you've regained a trace of the Dothraki pride."

"Aggo," she instructed, "once we return, scatter them. Take two from this group to fill each ten-man team. With that, we can even form two new teams."

"Yes." Aggo nodded in acknowledgment, showing no concern for the opinions of the newly freed Dothraki.

"They haven't pledged their loyalty to you," Arstan said curiously as they made their way to the next dock.

Daenerys smiled and explained, "I'm not concerned about whether they swear loyalty immediately. What I did just now was to provoke them, to help them break free from the chains in their hearts.

The Dothraki may be savage, with no concept of nation or unity, and they show no empathy when their kin become slaves.

But precisely because of this, they are free from the bonds of nationality and tribal loyalty.

In the great grass sea, khalasars are constantly dissolving and reforming.

Once they see that my khalasar is truly a khalasar, they will soon swear their absolute loyalty to me—until the day I die."

The reason Khal Drogo hadn't absorbed Ogo's people into his khalasar was because his own khalasar was already near its limit.

Fifty thousand bloodriders and over a hundred thousand people were the largest khalasar on the great grass sea—too many to sustain additional population.

They passed along three or four miles of docks, shipyards, and warehouses, heading toward the edge of the horseshoe-shaped harbor. Ships from the Summer Isles, Westeros, and the Free Cities were docked there, a less orderly area reserved for foreign merchants.

Here, the scene was far more chaotic.

Prostitutes dressed in faded sheer skirts teased sailors with their exposed legs, vendors hawked trinkets, drinks, and food directly between ships, and sailors from dozens of nations roamed the docks. Some carried bottles of wine, some had women on their arms, and others brawled amidst cheers from onlookers. The cacophony of strange accents blended into a chaotic roar.

"Belwas is hungry. Whitebeard, buy me something to eat," the burly man called to Arstan as they passed a grilled food stall.

The old man glared at him but fulfilled his duty, buying him a packet of grilled fish chunks.

The fish, white and tender, was coated in spices, whale oil, and honey, grilled to a golden hue, and finished with fennel powder and coarse sea salt.

Aggo swallowed audibly. "Khaleesi, I want some too."

"Buy it yourself," Daenerys replied before turning to Jorah and Whitebeard. "Do either of you want some?"

"No," they said in unison, exchanging a look that seemed to convey mutual understanding. Jorah then explained, "This place is too chaotic. Eating would distract us from protecting you."

Daenerys nodded. She shared their caution and avoided street food and drinks sold by vendors.

The Dothraki weren't accustomed to eating fish, so Aggo spent a few copper coins to buy each of the freedmen a skewer of honey-roasted rat.

The plump rodents, about half the size of a bamboo rat, were grilled to a crispy perfection, emitting a savory aroma. The young Dothraki ate heartily, oil dripping down their chins.

"Khaleesi, you've arrived!" Captain Groleo, who had been watching a beast-fighting match near a gambling pit, noticed Daenerys and her party right away. Aggo's loud cries of "Make way for the Mother of Dragons!" left no doubt.

The old seaman from Pentos approached Daenerys's silver mare and shouted over the din of sailors and animal cries, "Khaleesi, three ships await you: a large trading ship and two galleys.

The Saduleon is docked at the far end of the pier, while the Summer's Sun and the Jesting Joso are anchored beyond the seawall. You and your followers will board the spacious trading ship. Allow me to lead the way."

Daenerys nodded and let him take the reins, guiding her horse toward the end of the pier.

"Whoa!" A commotion erupted near the gambling pit, drawing Daenerys's attention.

A pit had been dug into the ground, about seven or eight meters in diameter and two to three meters deep, with stone walls enclosing it. Inside, two animals were engaged in combat—or more accurately, one creature was savagely slaughtering the other.

A creature resembling a pangolin was tearing apart a half-human-height red-haired hunting dog, treating it like a child's rag doll.

Blood splattered everywhere, and the sailors lining the pit cheered with satisfaction. Others cursed loudly, blaming the dog's weakness for their lost bets.

"Why is that pangolin so big? It's larger than a lion," Daenerys asked in astonishment.

"Pangolin?" Captain Groleo, the bearded sailor, shook his head. "That's a lizard-lion. Didn't you notice it has eight legs? It's far fiercer than a pangolin. The largest lizard-lions can be twice the size of a male lion, and they're the most fearsome creatures in the Jungle Lands."

"The Jungle Lands?" Daenerys raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "Are lizard-lions common there?"

"Extremely common," Groleo said. "They roam the jungles in packs. Apart from the northern Zebramen, the people of the Jungle Lands fear these creatures most. In the fighting pits, lizard-lions reign supreme; few animals can match them."

Daenerys murmured to herself, "The Jungle Lands are certainly no match for the Celestial Empire."

"What?" Groleo asked, tilting his head. "What did you say, Khaleesi?"

"How does lizard-lion meat taste? Why don't the Jungle Lands people eat them?" she asked.

Even small pangolins had been hunted to near extinction by the people of her homeland. Larger, meatier, and seemingly tougher lizard-lions would surely be a delicacy.

To think they were considered a plague in the Jungle Lands—how could they dare call themselves heirs to the Celestial Empire's ancient glory?

Nearby, Arstan shook his head. "Lizard-lion blood is poisonous. Stone Lizard Venom is extracted from their blood; it causes muscle atrophy, nerve paralysis, and a petrified state.

It's said that the Faceless Men of Braavos use lizard-lion blood to make a spice. When applied to cooked meat, it produces an irresistibly enticing aroma. But whether man or beast, consuming it drives them to madness and violent frenzy.

Rats infected with lizard-lion venom have been known to attack lions."

"That's why only the most reckless individuals would dare eat lizard-lion meat," Groleo added with a nod.

Such bizarre properties!

This was no ordinary delicacy; it was a divine ingredient fit for the heavens!

Could it be deadlier than fugu?

And with an irresistibly alluring aroma? That's practically an invitation to death!

Daenerys resolved that, when circumstances allowed, she would create a dish of lizard-lion meat, perfectly safe for consumption.

Otherwise, she would be unworthy of her Celestial Empire heritage.

"Speaking of poisons," Daenerys mused aloud, "Xaro once gave me a silver necklace inlaid with magical amethyst, claiming it could ward off poison. I never had the chance to test it before he took it back. Do you think such things truly work?"

"Your Grace, a proper security detail that includes food-tasting is far more reliable than those trinkets," Arstan declared proudly.

"They're not all scams," Groleo countered. "In Westeros, knights settle disputes with swords, but in Essos, conspiracies and poisons are as common as dust in the air—subtle and pervasive.

More trade governors and city lords have died from poisoned wine than of natural causes. Magical crystals enchanted by powerful sorcerers can sometimes detect or neutralize toxins in food and drink."

It seemed she needed to acquire a magical amethyst at the earliest opportunity.

As they conversed, the group reached the far end of the graystone pier, where an enormous trading ship was docked, leaving Daenerys awestruck.

The ship resembled a plump dumpling, its length exceeding 100 meters and its width surpassing 40 meters. Excluding the hull, four levels of windows were visible above the deck.

(Note: The original work doesn't specify the ship's size. Here, it is inspired by Zheng He's treasure ships, though smaller than the largest, which were reportedly 150 meters long.)

What a magnificent giant vessel!

"This is a wind-powered trading ship, with no oars," Groleo said proudly, as if introducing a child accepted into a prestigious academy. "It relies solely on the sea wind for navigation.

Not only can it easily accommodate your two hundred Dothraki, but it could take twice as many without issue. And that's just the Saduleon. The galleys anchored beyond the seawall, the Summer's Sun and Jesting Joso, each have 200 oarsmen."

(End of Chapter)

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