Game of Thrones: I am Dothraki, not a barbarian

Chapter 7: Time Travel Must Take CET-4 and CET-6
Rhahalo walked over to Drogo's seat and sat down, his scimitar Askara planted in the ground beside him.

A few quick-reacting warriors pushed through the crowd and walked towards Daenerys and her companions.

Ser Jorah Mormont stood in front of Daenerys, his face ashen, his sword pointed at a group of ferocious Dothraki in front of him, and he retreated step by step until his back hit the Dothraki's scimitar.

The warriors dragged them all back without any hesitation and threw them at Laharo's feet.

Daenerys stood up, dusted herself off, raised her chin, and stared at Rhaelor with her violet eyes without a trace of fear.

Rhaharo did not look at her, but shouted in Dothraki:

"The wedding continues! Bring up the offerings!"

The warriors came over leading a horse, cut open the horse's chest with sharp scimitars, and took out the still beating heart. The air was filled with a strong smell of blood.

Rhaelor stepped forward, took the bleeding horse heart, and pressed it into Daenerys's hands.

"Eat it," he commanded. "It is the Dothraki custom. Eat it, and you will be my Khaleesi."

Daenerys took the horse heart, her mouth twitching, her stomach churning. She didn't know what Rahalo was saying, but she understood what he wanted her to do.

She simply closed her eyes, held her breath, bit off a big piece, tilted her neck back and swallowed it.

Then, one bite after another, it wasn't long before the entire horse heart was swallowed.

Daenerys wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth with her sleeve, her face still expressionless.

Because no matter what happens, she must maintain her dignity, which is her last pride as a true dragon bloodline!

Rhallor secretly gave Daenerys a thumbs up. He felt sick just looking at this thing, but Daenerys actually ate it all in one breath!

Still such a big lump!
How many days have you been hungry?
At this moment, several elders with white hair and beards came behind Lahalo with combs and bells in their hands, combed Lahalo's long hair, and weaved the bells into it.

This is a tradition of the Dothraki people. Only after winning a battle, especially defeating a powerful opponent, can the elders braid the hair, which symbolizes supreme glory.

The Dothraki around held their breath, their eyes filled with awe.

Being able to kill the most powerful warrior on the Dothraki Grass Sea, Rhahalo's reputation has reached its peak!

As night fell, this long and bloody wedding finally came to an end.

Rhaharo loudly announced that the wedding was completed. At this moment, he officially became the new Khal, and Daenerys became his Khaleesi!

It was a grand wedding, a successful one, but including Drogo, fifteen people died.

At this moment, Rhallor suddenly turned around, leaned close to Daenerys' ear, and spoke in fluent Seven Kingdoms standard language.

"You, Princess of Dragonstone, Daenerys Stormborn, with the blood of Aegon the Conqueror in your veins.

And I am the Iron-blooded Son of the Dothraki Grass Sea. Follow me, and I will take you to conquer the Seven Kingdoms together!"

Daenerys' eyes widened instantly and she looked at Rhaelor in surprise.

She never expected that this Dothraki could speak standard language and knew so much about her life experience.

All the previous negative emotions disappeared, replaced by surprise, curiosity, and even a hint of closeness.

Most importantly, she is no longer lonely because he can understand her language, he knows her life experience, and he even wants to help her regain the Iron Throne!
Laharo looked at her surprised expression, a smile curling up at the corner of his mouth. It's just the CET-4 or CET-6, as if everyone hasn't taken it.

...

The noise of the wedding gradually died down, and the crowd retreated like a tide, leaving behind only the mess on the ground, the strong smell of blood, and the occasional sparks from the bonfire.

Rhahalo looked around and beckoned to Lazar, signaling him to take Illyrio to a separate tent.

Lazar was the first warrior to be impressed by his bravery and is now his most trusted follower.

Inside the tent, the oil lamp emitted a dim light. Illyrio squeezed onto the narrow stool with great effort, a flattering smile on his face:
"Khal Rhahalo, this wedding was truly unforgettable! Your fame will spread across the Dothraki Grass Sea, and all the khalasars will tremble before your power!"

Rhahalo raised a hand to silence his flattery. "Enough of your nonsense, Illyrio. Even though I killed Drogo, this does not invalidate the agreement between you. Not a penny less."

Illyrio's smile faltered, beads of sweat beading on his forehead. He said quickly, "Of course, of course. Khal Rahalo, I have prepared all the tribute you require."

Silks, spices, women... everything! Just ask and it will be delivered to your khalasar immediately!

The Dothraki believe that commerce and trade are cowardly and lowly, and unmanly, while riding a horse to fight and conquer the enemy is the real glory.

However, relying solely on looting could not fully meet the needs, so a custom of giving gifts to each other came into being, which became another important way for the Dothraki to obtain supplies.

"I need three gifts,"

Laharo said slowly, "Kerosene, the more the better, sugar, the better. And wine bottles, as many as you can get.

As for the silks, spices, and women, keep them for yourself; I have no need of them."

A hint of surprise flashed in Illyrio's eyes.

"I understand kerosene and sugar, but wine bottles... Khal Rahalo, may I ask what you do with those bottles?"

"No," Rahalo waved his hand decisively, staring at him intently. "Just prepare according to my instructions."

Illyrio was confused for a moment, but he didn't dare ask any more questions.

Giving up such a valuable tribute and only taking these seemingly insignificant supplies, which are only worth a little bit of sugar, is totally against common sense!

What exactly is he planning?
"Also," Rahalo added, "Just because I don't want them doesn't mean you can't give them to me. Exchange them all for gold royals and send them to me."

Golden Dragon!

Illyrio's heart leaped.

The Dothraki are accustomed to bartering. Although they also have the habit of storing gold, they basically do not use coins, which is definitely unusual!
Illyrio's goal is to fund the Targaryen family's return to the Iron Throne, while he himself takes the position of Lord of the Coin.

Although Drogo is savage, his mind is easy to figure out. However, a strong and inexplicable khal is not a good thing for him!
However, all the enemies of this khal were dealt with by him with thundering means. If anyone dares to show the slightest refusal at this time, he will be stabbed!

Thinking of this, Illyrio forced a smile and responded cautiously: "As you wish, Khal Rhahalo.

Kerosene, sugar, wine bottles... and the golden dragon, I promise to prepare them for you as soon as possible."

(End of this chapter)