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˖*°࿐ chapter forty-three. xliii. BLOOD OF MY BLOOD
LAELIA RODE BETWEEN THE SANDY MOUNTAINS AND HILLS WITH HER KHALASAR, Darys riding alongside her and the sound of horse hooves against sand and small patches of grass filled their ears and some even got sand in their noses. The khalasar carried their jagged swords and spears proudly, resting them on their shoulders or legs are they rode. Laelia stops, some yelling for the others to stop riding as well, Darys holding out an arm. She stared at the sand that blew, even though there was barely any wind around to put that much sand in the air.
"Everything all right?"
"How many days ride to Quiri?"
"A week at best."
"How many ships will I need to bring my khalasar to Björndottir?"
"Enochians and all their horses, the Unsullied, the Second Sons ― a thousand ships, easily, probably more."
"And who has that money?"
"Nobody."
"Nobody yet," Laelia nods towards him, staring out into the blankness of the place.
"So we ride for Quiri and after that, we sail for Björndottir. What then?"
"I take what is mine."
"You weren't made to sit on a chair in a palace," Darys replies, looking out into the same hill that stood in front of them, two large passageways splitting in different directions. Right or left. Your choice, it told.
"What was I made for?" She challenges, glancing at him, her horse making her body jump a little at each uninterested step it took. They were still, but the horses wanted to run, to gallop, to do anything besides staying still. They reminded Laelia of Loki, who never wanted to stay in one place but actually do something.
"You're a conqueror, Laelia Stormborn," he answers, smiling at her. She turns her head, seeing the puff of sand blow into the air, catching her attention, and she orders, "Wait here." She rides off, her horse breaking into a slow gallop, leaving the group of men behind her. The women stayed behind, all of them deciding that someone had to keep the place clean for when the khalasar come back. They hoped that they would come back, and if they did, they would make a large feast for them. An eagle screeched overhead, flying lazy circles on top of the khalasar, horses neighing for some form of action. Men talked among each other, deciding what they would do as soon as they walk into the city.
"Anha adothrak maan. Ayos anna jinne," Darys tells the other blood riders, going to ride off, but is stopped by a large roar. (I'm going after her. Wait for me here.)
