Mother Of Dragons

26 Final chapter

Hot, dusty air swirled from far ahead, the village of the Lhazareen in the distance. She took her time riding toward the village, knowing that the Dothraki would show no mercy to those who dared make a place on the wrong side of the river, more than a day's ride from the river, in fact. Drogo had said as much about the Lamb Men the night before. She had not experienced a Dothraki raid yet, and was more than mildly curious what could get Drogo's men so excited.

Earlier that morning, a scout had come back to camp as they were packing up, walking right past her without acknowledgement and told the Khal that the Lamb Men had set up homes in the grass of the Dothraki Sea, their sheep already turning good grassland to dust. Drogo had growled and grumbled as he talked to his scout, then had come to her and put her on her silver mare.

She squeezed his hand that rested on what was left of her waist for a moment, looking him in the eye. "I will take Rhakaro and Aggo and stay to the back," she whispered to him. Rhaego stirred within her, kicking out at his father's hand.

"Yes. Good. This satisfies me greatly," he answered, making no move to pull his hand away, instead gently pressing back on his growing son. "Take Cohollo as Rhaego's guard, too."

"I will," she promised, and she rode to the older man, relaying Drogo's orders as he had directed. Cohollo nodded briefly, and unsheathed his arakh and laid it across his lap as he rode next to her as he had always done when guarding his Khaleesi. He knew that seeing the naked steel awaiting any who opposed her was comforting to her. He seemed almost relieved to ride with her, not looking back once at the large group of bloodriders accompanying Drogo to the front of the khalasar.

She rode with Cohollo next to her as she took her place with Aggo and Rhakaro, quite some distance behind the bloodriders of the khalasar, and she found herself amongst the slaves, women, girls and children. Most smiled openly at her, many of them children and girls, but some of the women, too, after eyeing her largely pregnant belly and the Dothraki dress that she'd started wearing to be a bit more comfortable in the heat.

Dany was more than happy to walk slowly with them, surrounded by all these new faces and with her khas so close to her as they approached the village. When she and the others arrived, she was dumbstruck at the carnage and the smell. Beheaded bodies lay everywhere, fallen and left to rot in the sun where they'd been killed. Smoke from burning houses, dust from the fight, and the screams of the dying overwhelmed her senses. Rhaego kicked painfully in her belly, and she felt a deep urge to hold him and soothe him at her breast. She had to settle for stroking where he was kicking in an attempt to calm him. One woman spoke to her. "Already he thirsts for his war to mount the world," she said quietly, nodding toward Dany's soothing hand. Dany felt a twinge of horror, her innocent babe already wanting the blood of war? Surely not this soon. She dismounted from her horse with Aggo's help, hoping that walking would calm her baby boy.

She saw a pen of women corralled for the bloodriders to rape as they saw fit, and it sickened her. The women and young girls, some not even old enough to have started to bud breasts, all penned up together for the Dothraki to choose from. She motioned Rhakaro and Aggo to approach her, and she informed them that she was claiming all of the women as her daughters. Aggo snorted derisively, his gaze already set on a young girl, but Rhakaro looked to her questioningly, then told her that it was not possible, that these women were spoils of war and that it would honor them to pleasure the Dothraki men before being gifted in exchange for gold for ships. "No, these women are mine. The men will answer to Khal Drogo if it is not done," she replied, and her two khas moved quickly to pull the men off the women and lead them to her.

As the women came closer, it was all Dany could do to not hold her hand over her face in horror at the smell of their bodies mingling with the smell of the dead and rotting corpses around them. It was nearly more than she could take, so she walked away from them, leading them to where Khal Drogo had taken his seat upon the image of their god, a ram carved into stone. The tree in the center of the sacred space was filled with rags tied around herbs, entrails of animals knotted with carved wood and amulets in offering. Dany noticed a few fresh ones still dripping with blood and offal, no doubt done by Drogo's men in mockery of the offerings. Her stomach flopped sickeningly, but she pressed forward, forcing her feet to approach her husband's audience.