The Black and Red Dragon

Chapter 22: Trouble ahead

We continue our ride to Khal Drogo. Daenerys orders her Kha's and Jorah to rescue any girl and woman we come across. I do as promised and stay by her side unless she orders me. She does not speak with me and only gives me quick glances. No matter what I felt before about my actions, I only feel shame now. I hope she won't stay angry with me.

As we ride through the village the carnage only intensified. The Dothraki truly are brutal and we come across more rape and destruction. Eventually, we find Khal Drogo inside a temple. He sits on some sort of throne with a pile of heads next to him. The Khal is busy arguing with a Dothraki.

When the Khal sees us enter he turns to his wife. "Moon of my life, Mago says you have taken his spoils." He gestures to the man he was speaking to before we entered. "A daughter of a lamb, who was his to mount. Tell me the truth of this." She walks to her husband. "It's true, my sun and stars. I have claimed many daughters this day, so they cannot be mounted," she says. Drogo sighs deeply, but I can see he is not upset and still looks at her with love. It makes me jealous.

"This is the way of war. These women are slaves now to do with as we please," Drogo says. That makes me slightly angry and grit my teeth. 'This way, that way... what about the correct way' I think to myself angrily. Daenerys pleads with him, her voice is soft. And to my ear, it would melt my heart and I would give anything she wants. "It pleases me to keep them safe. If your riders would mount them, they should take them as wives and be gentle."

The man that is called Mago looks agitated. "Does the horse mate with the lamb?" He spits. Daenerys looks at him with a dark expression, somehow similar to Rhealla, and eyes like fire. "The dragon feeds on horse and lamb alike," she says coldly. Mago's hand reaches for his weapon and my hand immediately goes to Blackfyre. "You are a foreigner. You do not command me," Mago says. "I am Khaleesi. I do command you," she says in a loud and commanding voice. Khal Drogo chuckles with a deep voice. "See how fierce she grows? That is my son inside her, the stallion that will mount the world. Filling her with his fire." He motions Mago away as if he does not matter anymore. "I will hear no more. Mago, find somewhere else to stick your cock."

Mago spits in front of the Khal's feet and draws his curved sword. "A Khal who takes orders from a foreign whore is no Khal." The khal stands up with a murderous expression. Mago will not live much longer and I am not really complaining. In a calm manner, he walks to Mago. "I will not have your body burned. I will not give you that honor." Mago holds his blade up to stop the terrifying Khal, the blade cuts into the skin of Drogo, but does not seem to care. He is even smiling. "The beetles will feed on your eyes. Worms will crawl through your longs." Daenerys takes hold of my arm. I am surprised but don't question it. I even take her hand in mine. Mago swings at Drogo but he avoids the weapon effortlessly. He draws two daggers and continues speaking with a louder voice. "The rain will fall on your rotting skin..." he drops his weapons. "... until nothing is left off you but bones!" Mago keeps trying to hit Drogo but Drogo is dodging every attempt with ease. "You have to kill me first!" Mago says. Khal Drogo takes hold of Magos sword, disarms him, and in one swift motion slashes his throat open. He takes hold of Mago's throat and crushes it with his other hand he rips the tongue out. He shows it to everyone before going back to his throne. Nonchalantly, he throws the tongue in the pile of rotting heads.

Daenerys runs to him when Drogo sits down. "My sun and stars is wounded." He looks at his wound without really looking at it. "Just a scratch, moon of my life." After he said that I feel a strong sensation. The feeling that has tingled my senses since this morning. That wound is a bad sign. "Where are the healers?" Daenerys says turning towards us. "Just a bites flee," Drogo shrugs. One of the older women that Daenerys rescued steps forward. She has black hair styled into many dreads "I can help the great rider with his wound," she says. Qotho, bloodrider to Drogo, snarls at the woman. "The Khal needs no help from slaves who lie with sheep." Daenerys glares at him. "She is mine let her speak." The woman bows deeply to Daenerys. "Thank you, silver lady." The woman speaks common very well, but for some reason, I don't trust her. There is something off about her.

"Who are you?" Dany asks her. "I am named Mirri Maz Duur. I was the godswife of this Temple." Gotho spits at the woman's feet. "She is a witch." 'I am starting to dislike this Qotho guy, but he speaks the truth. There is something wrong about her but I can't put my finger on it.' I think to myself. Mirri ignores the comments of Qotho. "My mother was Godswife here before me. She taught me how to make healing smokes and ointments. All men are of one flock, or so my people believe. The Great Shepherd sent me to Earth to heal his..." She was cut off by Qotho slapping her. "Too many words. A witch's word poisons the ears." The woman touches her face but does not seem too bothered by it. How strange. "Lamb or lion, his wounds must be washed and sewn or it will fester," she says. Daenerys turns back towards her husband. "Let her clean your wound, my sun and stars. It makes me hurt to see you hurt." Drogo ponders for a bit and looks at the woman. He eventually nods and Mirri treats the wound and gives specific instructions to Daenerys. This is it. That wound has to be the bad event I have been feeling.

The day goes by quickly after that. Daenerys constantly worries for her husband. At night I eat diner next to a fire. I am deep in thought pondering about what the answer I found will mean. Not long after, ser Jorah sits next to me. He has two cups of fermented mares milk. One of the most favorite drinks of the Dothraki. It is absolutely disgusting. He hands me one of the cups. I take it from him. "That wound ser Jorah. It will not end well." Jorah looks at me with furrowed brows. "Is this what you felt?" He asks. I nod. "I am not sure, but if you are right... we better be ready. We start training tomorrow," Jorah says. I nod and down the drink he gave me. It burns my throat and the taste is terrible, but at least it keeps my mind of the coming days.