Game of Thrones: I am Dothraki, not a barbarian

Chapter 51 War Resolution
The cavalryman dismounted and handed Robert a roll of parchment.

Robert took it, opened it and glanced at it. His expression changed drastically, from astonishment to anger, and finally thousands of words turned into a roar.

"Damn the Dothraki! Damn the Targaryens!" he roared, raising the parchment. "They're coming!"

Ned frowned, "What happened?"

Robert threw the parchment fiercely into Ned's arms. "The Long Table was plundered! Orton Marives was killed! The two hundred thousand gold dragons that Tyrell sent to King's Landing are all gone!"

Ned took the parchment and scanned the words on it, startled. "Dothraki can sail?"

Robert's fury was almost tangible. "You said the Dothraki wouldn't cross the sea? And yet they're in the Reach! They've even taken the treasury at Nightsong!"

In fact, Ned also felt incredible. He always thought that the Narrow Sea was the safest barrier and the Dothraki would never threaten Westeros in their lifetime.

But now, everything has changed.

Are they here to grab a ticket and leave?
Or is this just the beginning?
At this moment, Robert turned his horse's head and said through gritted teeth, "Return to King's Landing! Call the Council!!"

After saying that, he suddenly pulled the reins, and the warhorse raised its front hooves and rushed straight down the hillside.

Ned looked at his back, said nothing more, kicked his horse's belly, and followed closely behind.

The hunting party was thrown into chaos, hounds barked wildly, and the servants hurriedly picked up their scattered equipment and hurried to catch up.

In front of the city gate, the caravans and pedestrians were horrified to see the king rushing towards them with a team of cavalry. They all tried to get out of the way. The horses roared past, kicking up a cloud of dust and heading straight for the Red Castle.

At this time, Varys, Petyr, Renly, Grand Maester Pycelle, Barristan Selmy and others were already waiting in the council hall. They watched Robert walk in angrily and exchanged glances with each other, but no one dared to speak first.

"How dare they challenge the Iron Throne and the king! These Dothraki bastards must die! And Daenerys, she deserves death too!"

Robert's face was livid, his eyes blazing, and his voice shook the hall. He glanced at the King's Councillor,
"Don't be silent, I want to hear your opinions! How should we fight this war?"

Grand Maester Pycelle lay motionless, his eyelids drooping, leaning on his cane, as if he were asleep.

Robert glanced at him and snorted coldly: "You've lived for so many years and you can't even fart!"

The corner of Pycelle's mouth twitched. He bowed slightly and said slowly, "Your Majesty, I am only a scholar. War is not my forte."

Robert snorted coldly and ignored him. He turned to look at Varys and said, "How come you, the head of intelligence, didn't receive any news?"

Varys stepped forward, folded his hands in his sleeves, and said helplessly, "Your Majesty, it takes time for the messenger to deliver the letter. The enemy is too fast. By the time I received the letter, it was too late.

I think the Tyrells' gold being robbed is a humiliation to the Seven Kingdoms and a provocation to the royal authority.

If we fail to respond, they will become more unscrupulous, and even those houses with ulterior motives will see the weakness of the Iron Throne.

I believe war is necessary.”

His main source of intelligence on Rhaelor came from Illyrio, the Governor of Pentos, but their relationship could not be known to anyone.

Moreover, he only wanted Rhaelor to die, while the Targaryen siblings had to live well and be Robert's targets. The time for rebellion was not yet ripe, so he could only try his best to maintain the status quo.

That’s enough said.

"Varys, you are a wise man!" Robert grinned, nodded vigorously, and looked at Petyr Baelish again:

"What about you?"

Littlefinger shrugged. "Your Majesty, I regret to say I must object. War costs money. The money for the tournament has already been spent, and the treasury is now empty enough to hold a rat. If we go to war, where will the military funds come from?"

"We can continue to borrow from the Tyrells!" Renly stepped forward, his chance to demonstrate his strength now at hand. "I agree with your majesty's decision. The Dothraki are burning, killing, and looting in Westeros. We cannot remain indifferent."

Otherwise, the nobles will suspect that Your Majesty is no longer as brave and fearless as he once was, which is not a good thing."

Robert looked at Renly with approval. "Well, you're becoming more and more like a real man! What do you think, Barristan?"

Barristan stood straight, wearing a suit of enameled white armor and a pure white cloak tied on his shoulders, symbolizing the Kingsguard. His silver-white hair was combed neatly, and the wrinkles on his face looked like they were cut by a knife.

His hand rested on the gilded hilt of his sword, his face expressionless.

"Your Majesty, I object."

The fat on Robert's face drooped instantly. "Bullshit! They killed our men and stole our money! Do we have to wait until they reach King's Landing before we passively respond?"

Barristan, stubborn in his resolve, demanded, "Your Majesty! How long will it take to raise an army? And if they return to Essos, will Your Majesty be able to capture them?"

Robert suppressed his anger. "So you mean to let me swallow this?"

Barristan refused to give in. "If this is just a vent of anger, then I advise you to think twice!"

The atmosphere in the hall suddenly became tense, and Robert was full of anger but had no place to vent.

Barristan was one of the most respected knights in the Seven Kingdoms. If others had selfish motives in this matter, he was 100% convinced that Barristan was truly concerned about the country.

He was about to speak when Ned's voice rang out.

"I object too."

Robert finally lost his temper and roared, "Damn it! Are you siding with them too? Are we just going to wait for these bastards to burn, kill, and plunder, and then let the whole Seven Kingdoms know that Robert Baratheon is a passive coward?"

Ned shook his head and said in a deep voice, "This is not a question of which side you are on, but a fact.

The Dothraki have no fleet and are not good at sieges. If they really wanted to invade Westeros, why didn't they just attack Storm's End?
Once they get the money, they will return to Caohai.

If we send troops, we will drag the Seven Kingdoms into a long defensive war. The entire coastline will be their landing point. Where will Your Majesty go to defend?
I agree with Ser Barristan. Wouldn't it be ridiculous if Your Majesty led the army to war and couldn't find them?

Half support, half oppose.

Robert looked at Varys. "Tell me, how would you fight if it were you?"

Varys bowed slightly and said respectfully, "Ser Barristan is both right and wrong. If they return to Essos, we will be unable to capture them. However, if we blockade the Narrow Sea with our fleet, they will be unable to return."

"Yes! Then notify Stannis and have his fleet blockade the Narrow Sea!"

Although the parliament was tied at three to three, Robert could no longer bear it and decided to make the final decision!
The matter was settled, the royal meeting ended, and Renly walked out of the King's Hall. Not long after, Petyr caught up with him.

"Lord Renly, please stay."

Renly paused and gave a bright smile. "Lord Baelish, what is the matter?"

Littlefinger smiled and said, "I just wanted to congratulate you. Marrying into the Tyrell family is a very happy event."

"Really? You all know that?"

"Of course, everyone in King's Landing is talking about you and Lady Margaery, a perfect match, and that they will soon give birth to an heir."

(End of this chapter)