Daenerys was surprised to find that her memory of the geography of Westeros was already quite hazy.
She became somewhat interested in this map.
The scroll slowly unfurled.
She recognized it. First was The North, then the Riverlands, The Vale, the Iron Islands, the Westerlands, the Crownlands, the Stormlands, the Reach.
Finally, Dorne.
There was still a section of the scroll left. Was the Summer Sea also drawn on it?
But she immediately knew she was wrong.
The scroll rod rolled to the end.
On the last section of the map lay a startling silver light.
She only blinked, and a large hand, moving so fast it left an afterimage, snatched up the silver light and completely vanished from her sight.
In less than a breath, the painful and angry shouts of the man beside her startled her awake.
She raised her head blankly.
Ah! A dagger was plunged into Khal Drogo's chest!
Ser Jorah was still holding his longsword and clashing with the Khal's arakh!
Everyone on and off the platform instantly erupted in chaos!
The low sounds of tables being pushed and benches kicked, the metallic scraping of swords being drawn and knives unsheathed, loud shouts, curses, and screams, and fearful pleas all rose at once, making it as noisy as Doomsday.
Daenerys knelt weakly on the ground, staring blankly at everything.
Guests and servants who reacted quickly scrambled and crawled away from the platform that was about to turn into a purgatory.
Three Bloodriders and a dozen Dothraki Warriors rushed towards the Khal.
Elin snatched the sword from the Beggar King's waist and headed straight for the panicked Illyrio nearby. The fat Magister had no guards now.
The Magister only had time to say "No" before the sharp steel sword pierced his throat and was then mercilessly pulled out.
The Magister fell to the ground, convulsing.
He choked on bloody foam, only able to make a continuous "cough, cough," followed by the tearing sound of air "hoarse, hoarse," and finally, silence.
Elin laughed heartily.
The Dothraki immediately cast fierce, bloodthirsty gazes at him.
Elin quickly dropped the bloodstained sword and dragged the wildly screaming Beggar King to Pono and Jhaqo.
He spoke the Dothraki he had memorized, "Khal Pono, Khal Jhaqo, aren't you going to take countless Gold Dragons, fine wine, and slaves? Now is the only chance! The city gates still need us!"
Pono and Jhaqo did not react.
Elin was truly anxious. Jorah Mormont could be chopped into pieces by an arakh at any moment.
Suddenly.
Frenzied, sorrowful, and piercing shouts came from the Khal's direction.
Elin tried hard to suppress the surging ecstasy in his heart. Drogo was dead?!
Pono and Jhaqo exchanged glances.
Two days ago, the Armored Man, an Andal, had brought this short man to them. The short man had proposed a very delicious plan.
Drogo was dead.
Drogo had no sons. After him, who would get this Khalasar?
Every Khal was a possibility, but it was more likely that the Khalasar would disband from now on, and the Khals would take their Khas and become new, smaller Khalasars.
But what if one or two Khals could avenge the Khal, filling every Warrior's pockets with gold and slaves?
More and more Warriors were attracted by the chaos on the platform.
They saw many corpses and blood. The Bloodriders and the Armored Man were running around in circles, fighting as they went.
They looked towards the Khals.
Khal Pono and Khal Jhaqo both recognized many of their own Khas followers in the crowd.
The two exchanged another glance, understanding each other's decision.
Two arakhs flashed simultaneously, rushing towards the other witnesses on the platform, cutting down seven or eight lives in a few breaths.
Khal Pono raised his arm and shouted, "The Magister of Pentos colluded with the Bloodriders and these guys to kill the Khal! Avenge the Khal! Kill these guys who are only fit to eat grass!"
Khal Jhaqo also gave an order, "Quickly go save that Armored Man!"
Their two Khas were the most powerful, and with intentional or unintentional arrangements, the followers of the two Khals in the crowd below now accounted for more than half.
The Warriors obeyed the Khals' orders, howling as they joined the fight, immediately gaining an overwhelming advantage.
Some wanted to speak the truth about the Khal's death, but more and more arakhs came, faster and faster, drowning out all words.
What awaited them was a bloody cleansing.
Elin, finally seeing the outcome, slumped onto the ground in relief. It seemed he wouldn't have to die.
The battle ended quickly.
Khal Pono and Khal Jhaqo took their warriors and left separately.
The area near the high platform became eerily quiet.
Jorah, covered in blood, leaned on his sword and stood before Elin. "Drogo was indeed a warrior worthy of respect, perhaps much better than me."
Elin smiled and asked, "Then how is it that you are standing here?"
Jorah also smiled. "He was injured first, and he didn't have this armor that only a coward like me would wear. It was also close-quarters combat on foot. It would be abnormal if I were injured."
"Dothraki are better off fighting on horseback."
Elin pretended not to see the few bloody gashes on Jorah. In truth, he understood that in a chaotic fight, such injuries were nothing.
He looked around.
The Beggar King was huddled nearby, muttering to himself, and Daenerys was still motionless on the ground.
He climbed to his feet and walked towards the Princess. "Your Highness, Elin is honored to report to you that we will soon be returning to King's Landing. His Highness the Crown Prince is waiting for you."
Daenerys stiffly turned her head, looking in terror at this attendant she had never dared to trust.
Ser Jorah comforted her, saying, "Your Highness, there is no need to panic. As long as you do not resist, we will absolutely not harm you, nor will His Majesty the King or His Highness the Crown Prince."
Daenerys understood who the "His Majesty" in his words was: the Usurper, not her brother.
She curled up helplessly.
Khal Pono and Khal Jhaqo, who had left earlier, had already dealt with all the "outsiders," gathered their two groups of warriors, and were riding back.
Dothraki voices sounded.
Jorah translated for Elin: "They want you to fulfill your promise, to open the gates of Pentos so they can avenge their Khal."
Elin sighed sadly. "The Magisters were too irrational. How could they assassinate the Khal just because they feared his power? What a pity, now beautiful Pentos must endure the wrath of the Dothraki."
"Tell them they can depart now."
The last rays of the setting sun had completely vanished.
Pentos had not yet noticed anything unusual. The grassland outside the city was neither too far nor too close; it wasn't strange for the Dothraki to cause some commotion.
Besides, would mounted barbarians attack a city at night?
With this thought, and with the city gates already quiet, the city guards, who were paid to do their job, naturally enjoyed their dinner, completely unaware of the sharp blades in the shadows.
These were dozens of desperate mercenaries Elin had hired with Gold Dragons.
Their task was simple: guard the East Gate, and upon Elin's appearance as a signal, kill all the gate guards to ensure the gates were wide open, after which they would be paid ten times the remaining amount.
The sound of hooves approached.
A figure slowly rode in from outside the city gate. The mercenaries saw the signal.
The guards, who were gathered together eating, were completely unprepared. Upon contact, nearly half were killed or wounded. The other guards and scattered citizens in the distance had no time and were powerless to provide support.
However, before the mercenaries could even control the city gate...
Rumble~
The ground shook violently, and a low, oppressive thunder roared from outside the city, mixed with faint cheers and howls.
The charge of forty thousand cavalry!
Jorah, leading the Dragon House siblings, was the first to burst through the city gate. After meeting up with Elin, their speed only increased as they galloped towards the harbor in the west.
Just a few breaths later, countless Dothraki cavalry charged through the fragile city gate with strange cries.
The mercenaries who had held onto hope and the few struggling guards were instantly turned into mud beneath the hooves.
The Dothraki had entered Pentos.
Amidst the bloody scene, Khal Jhaqo, no, Khal Jhaqo appeared.
He roared, "The people of Pentos exchanged gifts for the forgiveness of the great Khalasar. Now they have broken the sacred oath and used despicable means to kill Khal Drogo! Unforgivable!"
He raised his bloody arakh high. "As punishment, revel to your heart's content! Warriors!"
Oh~ Wu~
The Dothraki cavalry's bloodthirsty and greedy desires were completely ignited. They must avenge their Khal!
No sheathing of blades for the night.
Everything in sight was a lamb to be slaughtered.
Fortunately, Elin and the others had escaped to the ship prepared in the harbor. A moment later, Elin wouldn't have known whether the Dothraki's arakhs were friend or foe.
The ship had already weighed anchor.
Elin and Jorah stood on the deck, watching the increasingly bright Pentos.
That was the firelight of death.
Elin was both excited and uneasy. The mission was complete, but would His Highness want to see the bloody night of Pentos?
Disordered footsteps sounded from behind.
The captain and a dozen sailors held knives and swords. "Hey, Elin, you know I'm from Pentos, right?"
Elin hid behind Jorah. "None of your families are in the city, are they? What do you want?"
The burly captain spoke word by word.
"Gotta add money."
How much money? Elin didn't know, but he would soon find out.
-----------
Machine Translation by: https:// randomtranslator.com/
Read 777+ original & fanfic translations in English, Español, Português, Deutsch, Français, or Русский at: https:// randomtranslator.com/
Join our Discord: https:// discord.gg/NSWvfN7vua
-----------