Rhaegar rode his horse directly from the courtyard overlooking Pentos to the Pentos Sun Gate, observing the approaching Dothraki Khals. Almost everyone in Pentos recognized the black steed and the silver-haired, purple-eyed youth atop it. The steed belonged to a descendant of the esteemed Dragon King, a distinguished guest of the Magister of Pentos, Prince Rhaegar, the silver dragon knight. Merchants, citizens, sellswords, and debt slaves all scattered out of his way.
The Pentos Sun Gate leads east to the Rhoyne River. From the city of Pentos eastward to the west bank of the Rhoyne River, most of the area falls within Pentos's sphere of influence and its vassal towns. This is provided that the Khals do not fall into a war frenzy and cross the Rhoyne River with their armies, which is what Pentos fears most. The Magisters have only been able to cultivate relationships with a series of powerful Khals over the years, sending them gifts and gold and silver to ensure their Khalasars operate east of the Rhoyne River.
Rhaegar looked at the Khals in his sight and thought of an idiom: 'a monkey crowned'.
When visiting the Free Cities, the Khals would also wear splendid clothes and spray perfume, but beneath the luxurious attire were only muscles and a thirst for slaughter. The people of Pentos also regarded the Khals as kings of a barbaric world. However, they were powerless against these nomadic rulers and could only bribe and flatter them.
The Khals would not enter the city and did not notice Rhaegar. Khals entering the city would cause immense panic. They had a complex of villas for reception by the bay, where the Magisters of Pentos would drink and socialize with them.
The dothraki people have typical bronze skin and black almond-shaped eyes, with braids as dark as ink, completely different from the people of Pentos. They are lives nurtured by the Dothraki Sea. The eyes of the Pentos people were filled with fear. Pentos and Qohor are both very afraid of the dothraki people.
Under the open sky, the dothraki people adhere to ancient traditions. Both men and women bare their chests, wearing painted leather vests, tied with horsehair leggings, and bronze belts around their waists. Male warriors slick their long braids black and shiny with animal fat from tar pits. The dothraki people feast on roasted horse meat seasoned with honey and pepper and drink fermented mare's milk.
Rhaegar noticed the tall Khal leading them. He was very tall, over six feet six inches, moving with the agile swiftness of a focused cheetah or lion. The Khal rode a white steed, with bright bronze skin, bulging muscles, golden and bronze bells tied into his thick beard, and a scimitar at his side. Rhaegar felt as if Khal Drogo had been resurrected. Judging by his age, he should be Drogo's father. Behind the Khal's white horse followed a group of small white horses, with a son who resembled the Khal in appearance and was equally unruly, a young Drogo, along with his companions. The Khal's son also held a high status in the tribe.
Not far from Khal Balbo was another Khal, whose build was not as imposing as the leading Khal, being thinner and shorter.
Rhaegar looked at the Khals and their terrifying guards behind them, who possessed a wildness like cheetahs. No wonder these old gourmands of Pentos were so afraid, for the Khals truly represented a violence and wildness from the great plains of the Dothraki Sea. Since the Khals destroyed the other civilizations of the Dothraki Sea, they have been the sole masters of the plains.
Rhaegar glanced at the Khals a few times and then looked away. A young Drogo was nothing too remarkable, especially for a True Dragon. Khals might be powerful warriors, but they wore no armor and had no civilization to speak of. dothraki civilization was a mix of barbarism and crude sorcery, and the Khals' mortality rate was simply too high.
After Rhaegar rode his horse back to the mansion, he changed his clothes and began to stroll through the bustling market of Pentos. The magic dragons lay quietly by the marble pool. This mansion was one of the most secluded and safe places in Pentos. He concealed his face with a hood and mask. Merchants in Pentos came from all over the world, and no one paid attention to such a strange guest.
Rhaegar saw people of all kinds at the Pentos market: blonde, fair-skinned, blue-eyed Lyseni, olive-skinned Myrmen like the rhoynar people, and Pentoshi merchants with oiled, forked beards.
Rhaegar was most interested in the Qartheen. Qarth belonged to great merchants and Warlocks, and was extremely large and wealthy. Qartheen are tall and pale-skinned, and are therefore called 'milk men' by the dothraki people. Qartheen merchants favor silk, beaded gowns. Qartheen warriors wear bronze scale armor and long-snouted helmets adorned with bronze teeth and long black feathers.
Spices, gems, and even dragon bones were the most common items sold in the Pentos market.
Rhaegar's interest was not in these. Ordinary items could not catch his eye; he lacked neither spices nor gems. What Rhaegar preferred most were Valyrian steel weapons, dragon eggs, or items with magic or rune fragments. But these things were also extremely precious, and difficult to find even after searching the entire market. Rhaegar also looked at the dragon bones; those damn Pentoshi merchants, some might have used elephant bones or pterodactyl bones to pass off as fakes, not True Dragon bones at all.
"Did you hear? The Admiral of Myr's compensation, he lost nine warships," a Myrman merchant said to his companion.
"A shameful war, we won a shameful peace. The Magister and the Admiral knelt under the threat of the dragon whelps, losing the pride of the Myrmen!" Another Myrman merchant was equally indignant, but seemed to have no better solution.
"It's always easy for a lion to reason with a lamb! Besides, you Myrmen brought it upon yourselves, even conspiring to assassinate our Archon," a Tyroshi merchant with a bright yellow beard suddenly interjected, and the group immediately dispersed unhappily.
"Dragon bones! Fine dragon bones!" a Pentoshi merchant shouted enthusiastically. Indeed, there were still black bones on his stall.
"What's the price?" Rhaegar stepped forward and asked.
"Equivalent to gold, guest. You know these dragon bones of ours are priceless treasures, obtained with great difficulty, risking the Dragon King's wrath. They come either from the perilous Smoking Sea ruins or from the House Targaryen's abandoned dragon pits, the terrifying Dragonmount. They are not easily come by, guest," the Pentoshi merchant with the shiny, forked yellow beard exaggeratedly said.
"That price is too expensive!" Rhaegar smiled, walked closer, and quietly examined the bones. Each black bone was a fake: pig bone, fish bone, turtle bone, even elephant bone was considered high-grade.
"Where can you find dragon bones now, you see? These are all dragon bones I smuggled before. If you think it's expensive, I think it's expensive too. Now the Dragon King has re-hatched dragons, and Dragonmount and the dragon pits have been claimed by the House Targaryen's brat. If we want to find dragon bones again, we have to go to the terrifying and dangerous ruins of the Smoking Sea. Guest."
Rhaegar stopped speaking. He felt a tremor, a tremor of magic. These bones were not dragon bones; although dyed black, dragon bones are light and sharp, with a high iron content. These bones were much heavier, clearly modified turtle shells or large fish bones, but there was indeed a tremor of Water Magic within them.
"These aren't dragon bones, and the price is too high!" Rhaegar said.
"Are you trying to cause trouble?" The Pentoshi merchant's face instantly changed, and there was murderous intent in his eyes.
"I was just joking. One diamond, and I'll take these dragon bones, but on the condition that I choose them myself!" Rhaegar said.
The Pentoshi merchant's eyes widened at the sight of such a beautiful purple diamond, and he instantly broke into a smile. There were no real dragon bones in the market; most were fakes made from sea beast bones and animal bones. He never expected to encounter such a fool.
"I'll sell, sell, sell! Please wait, sir," the Pentoshi merchant said, exceptionally happy.
Rhaegar quietly sifted through the pile of black dragon bones. The currents of water, the fluctuations of water. The Rhoyne River, the mother river, was vast and boundless, and many river gods had been directly fished out and killed.
Only large fish and turtles fished from the free Rhoyne River, and not sea fish or river fish from near Pentos, possessed the tremor of magic. Since the rhoynar people fled, these river gods have also suffered.
Rhaegar collected for a while, piling a large amount of fake dragon bones in front of him, and gave the purple diamond to the merchant.
The Pentoshi merchant was profusely grateful. Other merchants' eyes were wide with envy and they swarmed around. Merchants who saw a rich, foolish customer all smiled broadly; these were fake dragon bones, and they never expected someone would actually buy them. The entire market knew that a fool had come to buy fake dragon bones.
Rhaegar had a fruitful haul. He packed up a large quantity of fake dragon bones and returned. These many dragon bones were naturally not for making soup, but for exploring the mysteries of Water Magic and strengthening the Blood of the Water.
These unscrupulous Pentoshi merchants, buying large fish and turtle bones from the Rhoyne River at low prices and passing them off as dragon bones, truly had exceptional business acumen.
"Your name, esteemed customer! I'll send more to you next time I get some!" The first Pentoshi merchant came over again, carrying Rhaegar's goods for him, and said happily to Rhaegar.
"Just go to Magister Illyrio Mopatis's place or the large mansion near the red temple," Rhaegar said.
The Pentoshi merchant's face turned pale. So the one buying dragon bones was truly a True Dragon. He touched his neck; if this were Westeros, he might already be dead.
Rhaegar returned to the mansion with the fake dragon bones, placing them all in his study. The Unsullied Eunuchs were like dead men; they didn't question their master, but whether there were Magister Illyrio Mopatis's double agents among them was hard to say.
A little later, the fat Miro fruit personally came to the mansion to deliver a message.
"The one who wants to marry off his daughter is the Pentoshi Prince's cousin. Because the Prince comes from one of the Forty Families, his cousin is also a nobleman in Pentos. The prospective groom died, and the girl cries every day, which also makes her father very upset."
"The dothraki people who came are Khal Balbo and Khal Mosso, among others. Khal Balbo is the strongest, while Khal Mosso is a bit weaker. The other Khals are even weaker. There's a welcome banquet tonight."
"Miro, are you married?" Rhaegar asked.
"Not yet, Prince!" Miro said respectfully.
"Do you want to marry a princess?" Rhaegar looked at Miro, and the fat man showed a surprised expression. After all, the princess's prospective husband had died, wasn't this a ready-made opportunity?
"That's too difficult, Prince. I am of humble birth and lack handsome looks." Miro was very honest; in terms of appearance, he was indeed far inferior to Illyrio. The fat man was slightly tall, with a baby face, looking honest rather than having Illyrio's wildness and handsomeness. But at least he had thick eyebrows and big eyes, which was enough.
"Where there's a will, there's a way, my friend. Humble birth is no disgrace. To be able to bend and stretch is the mark of a true man." Rhaegar patted Miro. "I'll take care of everything."
Miro was moved to tears. Prince Rhaegar was not only his lucky star but also his benefactor who gave him a new life.
After Miro left, Magister Illyrio Mopatis arrived like a gust of wind.
"My young friend, forgive my abruptness. Because of the esteemed arrival of several Khals, I am responsible for their reception as an envoy, and the task is very difficult. I truly apologize for keeping my young friend waiting so long. You know, barbarians can be quite picky," Magister Illyrio Mopatis said.
"Can I attend the welcome banquet tonight?" Rhaegar asked. "It's simple, I'll be your aide-de-camp. I won't cause you any trouble."
Magister Illyrio Mopatis hesitated a bit; he actually didn't want Rhaegar to go. The prince before him had many virtues: handsome, noble, and battle-hardened. But he was also domineering, arrogant, willful, and ruthless in action. The Khals were the same. Both groups were honored guests of Pentos, and young men were always hot-headed. The Magister dared not offend either side.
At the Khal's mansion, people came and went. Among the crowd were assassins and sellswords from Pentos, Myr, and Tyrosh, splendid merchants from Lys, and plump Red Priests. Followers of the red god were also numerous in Pentos. There were also hairy strange men from Ibben, and several lords from the Summer Isles with skin as dark as ebony.
Of course, the core figures were Drogo and his father. Around them were several tall men, the Khals' Blood Riders, equally tall and mighty. Khals often had large physiques, reddish-brown skin, and their characteristic glossy black hair, tied into countless braids with silver bells suspended within them.
Among the crowd was also a mumbling, plump Red Priest, who began to pray to the flames.
"The young prince rides his horse; he is the Khal of Khals, the Khal who sweeps across the grass sea, the great conqueror of the dothraki." The Red Priest showered Drogo with praise. Drogo and his father were both very pleased.
Until Magister Illyrio Mopatis appeared with Rhaegar. Rhaegar was dressed in Pentoshi clothes, only his silver hair and purple eyes were distinctive, and he had no beard.
The Red Priest suddenly turned sharply, facing Rhaegar Targaryen, and shouted loudly, showing a look of terror.
"Dragon King, great Dragon King.
You are the silver flame that conquers all, the silver flash that obliterates all, the sole king of the known world, King of Kings. Your three magic dragons are unstoppable, your army behind you is countless, those in black armor, those in chainmail, those in stone armor. Your black and red crown is glorious like the sun, your black sword is sharp like reeds, your black armor is majestic like mountains. The three-headed dragon is flowing fire, an unquenchable sun. The world kneels at your feet, kings kneel at your feet, offering their crowns. Priests kneel at your feet, offering their staves. Warriors kneel at your feet, offering their swords."
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