Game of Thrones: I am Dothraki, not a barbarian

Chapter 85: Praise of the Great Kaa

"Greedy fat pig!"

Rhahalo cursed under his breath, then smiled. "There's no need to worry about the risks, Lord Illion. Besides the slave market that Lion mentioned, I can also give you a share of Illyrio's silk trade."

After that, his tone changed and he said in a deep voice: "Lord Illian, I hope you will be the beneficiary of this change, not the victim."

The fat on Illian's face trembled, he put down his wine glass and said, "Khal Rahalo, you have convinced me.

Here's how: add a slave market, and my three colleagues in the Senate will support you."

"A word is settled!"

Leon raised the corner of his mouth and looked at Laharo with a smile that showed he was confident of victory.

However, Ilian changed the subject.

"But you don't have enough votes. The majority still lies with Eccles and Simon. They will never let you become the commander of the guard."

He looked at Laharo meaningfully. "If you want to win the support of the parliament, you must weaken their influence."

Laharo agreed with this.

Leon and a group of merchants have already joined him and have fifteen votes in their hands. Now that he has bribed Ilian, he has four more votes, totaling nineteen votes.

Although Illyrio's position was not filled, even so, it was still one vote short of the twenty votes of Ecclesiastes and Simon.

There was nothing more to talk about, and Laharo was about to say goodbye when he was stopped by Illian.

"Clap clap..."

He clapped his hands twice, and several young and beautiful female slaves came out from the side hall. They had seductive smiles on their faces, were dressed coolly, and were very charming.

"Lord Kao, it's a rare visit. Why don't you stay for the dinner?" Illian's chubby face was transformed into a chrysanthemum smile. "I just bought a few girls from the East. Each of them has unique skills. I guarantee you will be reluctant to leave."

Pantos' style is not only to talk but also to do.

Laharo doesn't want to compete with Illian, the fat pig, or he'll get stye.

"Lord Illian, I appreciate your kindness, but I have other important matters to attend to and cannot stay long. Farewell."

After saying this, Laharo ignored Ilian's repeated attempts to keep him and walked straight to the door.

Seeing this, Leon had no choice but to salute Illian and catch up with Laharo.

...

In the lower town of Pentos, the streets are narrow, with dilapidated wooden buildings on both sides. Sewage flows slowly along the roadside gutters, and the air is filled with the stench of rotting food and feces.

Jorah Mormont pushed open the wooden door of the Drunken Sailor tavern, and the rich aroma of ale mixed with the stench of sweat hit him in the face.

The tavern was filled with flickering candlelight and noisy voices. The tables were full of people. The bartender and the waitress were moving among the crowd. Occasionally, they were touched by the evil claws that stretched out from nowhere. The woman cursed loudly, causing bursts of laughter.

In one corner, a few sailors were playing dice, betting a bag of silver coins. In another, a few vendors were discussing the latest price trends.

Jorah found a seat at the bar, and the proprietress Meg immediately recognized this regular customer.

She was a middle-aged woman with curly brown hair streaked with silver, and she wore a wide linen apron and a lace-up bodice that accentuated her ample figure.

"Good evening, Lord Mormont," Maegor said with a smile. "White Harbor Ale, as usual?"

Jorah nodded. "A glass of ale and a roast pork knuckle."

Meg quickly brought a mug of ale and a steaming roast pork knuckle sprinkled with spices, with golden roasted potatoes and carrots on the side.

Just as Jorah was about to start eating, a red-haired maiden sat down beside him, leaned down, squeezed hard, and said with a sweet smile, "Sir, would you like some dessert?"

Jorah politely declined her offer with a wave of his hand.

Suddenly, a cheer caught his attention.

A gaudy minstrel stood in the center of the stage, holding a lute in his hands.

"Men!" he declared, taking off his wide-brimmed fur hat and saluting. "Let me sing you a new song, a song of praise for our great khal, Rhahalo, conqueror of meadow and sea!"

As the sound of the piano began, the poet began to sing a ballad.

"Hear! The eagle of the steppes takes flight, riding the waves like a warhorse. The pirates of the Iron Islands tremble in fear, and the nobles of the Reach bow down in submission.

Rhahalo, Lion of the Dothraki, conqueror of the dragon of the sea!

His scimitar is sharper than Valyrian steel, his arrows swifter than a storm.

Sea serpents were like earthworms before him, and Euron's fleet was but toy boats.

Rhahalo, son of iron,

The ruler of grasslands and oceans!

He will lead us across the narrow sea and conquer the legendary continent.

The Seven Kingdoms will bow at his feet, and the Iron Throne will finally belong to our Kha'al!"

When the song ended, the pub erupted in warm applause and cheers.

Jorah frowned, picked his ears, drank the ale in one gulp, and knocked on the bar with his wooden cup.

"Another drink, Mrs. Meg."

Although he was past middle age and his hairline was receding, he was still strong and sturdy. His armor was already tattered, but he couldn't afford a new one.

His thoughts drifted back to the past.

At that time, he had not yet been exiled, but was still the lord of Bear Island and a knight loyal to the North.

That year, he met Lynesse at the tourney held by King Robert.

Lynesse came from the wealthy Hightower family. He was attracted by her beauty, proposed to her successfully, and brought her back to Bear Island.

However, Lynness was used to the luxurious life in Old Town. She liked flowers, banquets, fine clothes and jewelry. She hated the damp and cold castle, the coarse fish and black bread, and even more so the endless wind and snow and the loneliness without banquets.

In order to let his wife live a familiar life, he took out all his savings, bought silks and satins, held banquets, and even renovated the castle.

But the Mormonts were only a second-rate family with limited wealth, which they soon squandered.

He could only sell his property, but even so, it was far from enough to satisfy the insatiable Linness.

Finally, he took a risk and sold the captured poachers to slave traders in Tyrosh for a large sum of money.

In the North, this is an unforgivable crime.

When the matter was exposed, Eddard Stark labeled him a slave trader and ordered him to be executed.

Unable to stay in Westeros any longer, he had to flee with Lynness and embark on the road of exile.

Until one day, he followed the mercenary group to fight against the Braavos on the banks of the Rhoyne. When he returned triumphantly, he found that Linness had left him.

Without saying goodbye or explaining, she went to live with a wealthy businessman named Trig O'Molen and became his concubine.

In the end, the lapdog has nothing.

After a period of wandering and helpless life, he finally became the guard of the Targaryen brothers and sisters under the recommendation of Illyrio.

But now, he was forced to pledge allegiance to a Dothraki khal and became a sworn knight of the barbarian tribe. However, the Dothraki worshipped the horse god, and Rhallor did not mind him swearing an oath before the Seven Gods.

In this world, most people will never trust each other if they don’t have a common belief.

What's more, Laharo thought that he had betrayed him and that he would probably never be able to make a comeback in his life.

Bear Island...

It was infinitely far away from him.

Jorah collected his thoughts, drank his second glass of ale in one gulp, paid the bill and walked out the door.

At this moment, a voice came from behind: "Excuse me, Ser Jorah Mormont of Bear Island."

Jorah looked back and saw that the person who spoke was Eccles Varian, a large planter of Pentos and leader of the nobles on the council, followed by five Unsullied guards.

(End of this chapter)