Game of Thrones: I am Dothraki, not a barbarian

Chapter 28 Drinking
At this moment, a staggering sound of footsteps came from the bedroom.

Oberyn turned his head and saw Nymeria walking out with the help of the wall. Her cheeks were flushed, there was a scar on her face, her clothes were disheveled, and she looked miserable.

Oberon hurried forward to support her, his mouth twitching and he couldn't speak for a while.

It's unbelievable that this daughter, who has always been cunning and capable, is in such a mess?

What did the two of them do in the room?
Nymeria can barely walk!
Nymeria broke free from Oberyn and glared at Rhaelor with gritted teeth, "Aside from your strength, there's really nothing special about you!"

She thought to herself that she must get back what she had lost today!
She was shocked by Laharo's strength, but it also made her more eager to conquer him!
Since she couldn't beat him, she would use the unique passion of Dornish women to make him surrender!

Martell family motto: Perseverance!
Rhallor ignored Nymeria's inner thoughts and looked at Oberyn with an awkward smile. "Your daughter is very interesting. I may have hurt her a little from the collision. I must apologize."

He was talking about how it hurt a little to slam Nymeria into the alley wall, but Oberyn's face suddenly turned strange when he heard this.

This horse king is indeed a man of temperament, even a little too straightforward!
Although Dorne was passionate and unrestrained by nature, his private life was even more unruly.

But he is a father after all. When talking to him face to face about his reading experience, he felt that compared with Laharo, he was quite thin-skinned!

"Ahem..." Oberon cleared his throat to hide his embarrassment, "It seems you have already had a friendly exchange. However, Lord Kao did not regard my daughter as a trophy, did he?"

Laharo spread his hands, an innocent look on his face. "Your Highness, we are allies. How dare I offend her? She is a worthy opponent, that's all. I have no other intentions."

After hearing this, Oberon felt a little disappointed!

Are we just opponents? No one is given any status?
The Dothraki practice polygamy. It's my business whether I want to give it to you or not, but it's too disrespectful for me if you just throw it away after using it!
How about letting Tyene try some other time?

As night fell, a bonfire was lit in the courtyard, and Oberyn and Laharo sat opposite each other at a long table.

Nymeria left angrily, and Lazar and the others were not there either, which made it easier to talk.

The table was filled with Dornish specialties: fresh green blood oranges, honey-roasted figs, spicy roasted sea snake, lamb stewed with hot peppers, and Dornish specialty wine, Summer Red.

Oberon held a silver fork in his left hand and a dinner knife in his right hand. With elegant movements, he cut a piece of lamb leg and put it into his mouth. He chewed it in small bites and took a sip of red wine, which not only showed the deliciousness of the food but also the dignity of a prince.

When Oberon looked up and saw how Laharo was eating, he was shocked.

Laharo grabbed a spicy roasted sea snake, tore it apart with his hands, and stuffed the shiny piece of meat directly into his mouth, making his mouth full of oil.

He gasped repeatedly because of the spiciness, wiped his mouth, and hurriedly reached out to grab the green blood orange, throwing the bone fragments on the table.

The Dothraki are accustomed to this unrestrained way of eating, which emphasizes a hearty and satisfying meal.

After a moment's pause, Oberon burst into laughter, threw down his silver fork and knife, and casually drew the dagger from his waist.

"I like you, Rhallor." Oberyn stabbed a hunk of stew with his dagger and took a sharp bite, splashing the stew. "That's how you show respect to food."

Rhahalo grinned. "A Dothraki spends most of his life on horseback. He doesn't have the time for that. I'm sorry to bother you. It seems your Highness isn't one to be bothered by small matters."

Oberon's mouth was full, and he mumbled, "With fine wine and delicious food in the presence of interesting friends, being too formal with etiquette would be a lack of etiquette."

For a moment, the two of them swallowed with great relish. Gradually, the wine and food dwindled, and the bones piled up like a small mountain in front of them.

Oberon filled a glass of wine for Rahalo and asked with a smile, "Tell me, Rahalo, what are your plans?"

Rhallor did not intend to start an all-out war; he was still waiting for Eddard Stark to be imprisoned and for the War of the Five Kings to break out.

The Reach is densely populated and very wealthy, with vast plains that are perfect for cavalry to roam freely, but it is also the region with the strongest military strength.

Therefore, Laharo decided to send out a small number of elite cavalry to launch a blitzkrieg, quickly sweeping through the villages and towns of the River Reach, robbing them of money, food, and women.

Of course, the most important thing is to plunder the craftsmen. Hiring them in every city is slow and troublesome, and they always look down on you. How much faster would it be to just capture them?
Karasa's weapons workshop currently has only thirty blacksmiths, including apprentices, which seriously restricts weapons production.

Whether it is to make Damascus scimitars or cavalry breastplates, a large number of skilled craftsmen are needed.

With only these thirty blacksmiths, it would probably be a long time before they could forge weapons for tens of thousands of troops.

He had to get in and out quickly before Highgarden could react, to avoid having the Arbor fleet stuck in the Narrow Sea.

The key point is that he has no warships, cannot deploy troops on a large scale, and cannot engage in naval battles. This time he borrowed sixty merchant ships from Illyrio, which can only transport one thousand people and horses and equipment.

Once the Westeros fleet blockaded the Narrow Sea, his thousand-plus men and sixty ships would definitely be dead, so he came to Dorne specifically to form an alliance so that he would have a way to retreat even if he was blockaded.

Even if they were able to cross the sea in the future, a large-scale invasion would require strong logistical support, which is precisely the Dothraki's shortcoming.

Dothraki cavalry excels at speed, making them suitable for blitzkrieg, but not for attacking strongholds.

Let's talk about tasks like siege and capture strongholds after we have the Unsullied.

However, these things must not be told to Oberon. Laharo picked up the wine glass, sniffed the aroma of the wine, and changed the subject.

"Great wine, the Summer Red really does taste unique!"

"The wines from Essos aren't of this quality." Seeing that Laharo was unwilling to speak, Oberon stopped asking and changed the subject, saying in a teasing tone, "Dorn's specialties aren't just Summer Red. You can take some with you when you leave.

In fact, the women of Dorne are also like this, for example, my daughter is one of them."

Laharo had just taken a sip of his wine when he nearly spit it out. He finally understood why Oberyn was so sarcastic.

He considered Oberon an ally, but Oberon wanted to be his father-in-law?
Rhallor laughed awkwardly. "Dornese women are as famous as they are said to be. They are sweet, spicy, and even more passionate than the rumors say. However, my mind is currently focused on the war, so I don't have time to think about those things for the time being."

Oberyn sighed softly, didn't mention it anymore, put down his wine glass, and turned to look at the Dothraki warhorses in the courtyard.

Each of them is tall, with clear muscle lines, especially their black and shiny fur. A hint of admiration flashed in their eyes.

Dorndor is a sand warhorse with great endurance, but unfortunately he is short in stature. It’s not that he doesn’t have a good horse, but the coat color is much worse than that of Laharo.

"The Dothraki warhorse is well-deserved of its reputation. I enjoy raising horses, but my coats can never reach the level of yours."

Laharo put down the food and said seriously, "Warhorse is our brother."

He pointed to his black warhorse, "That's my black-maned horse. It's not enhanced by any paint, but fed with a special kind of grass."

"Oh, what kind of fodder?" Oberon asked quickly.

"Adding a small amount of flaxseed to the feed can make the horse's hair smooth and shiny, and also strengthen its physique. Especially during the molting season, flaxseed can help them molt faster."

Oberon was overjoyed when he heard this, as if he had discovered a new world. He walked to the edge of the courtyard, gently stroked the horse's mane, and couldn't help but exclaim in admiration.

"Flax seeds!" He was still in disbelief. "It's that simple? I've tried countless methods, but I've never thought of feeding flax seeds!"

“Simple is best!
The two men looked at each other and laughed, raised their glasses and drank, eating big chunks of meat and drinking big cups of wine, making the atmosphere more harmonious.

(End of this chapter)