The Khals' sleeping quarters were located by the Pentos Bay, with several tall towers and pale ivy climbing up the towering brick walls. The largest sleeping quarters naturally belonged to Khal Balbo, who held the most power.
Inside the courtyard, the air was filled with the fragrant scent of spices like chili, cinnamon, and sweet lemon. The Unsullied Eunuchs, with faces as smooth as children's and stout builds, guarded the entrances and exits of the courtyard. Magister Illyrio Mopatis's Unsullied Eunuch attendants, though large in stature, possessed considerable strength, moved swiftly, and were discreet in their actions.
Rhaegar saw people coming and going in the courtyard, guests moving through. He saw numerous stone pillars and ivy climbing everywhere, dancing with the moonlight. Magister Illyrio Mopatis's group consisted of four people: Magister Illyrio Mopatis, Rhaegar, and two Unsullied guards.
The moment the Red Priest shouted, all sounds and all people fell silent, and they all noticed the silver-haired youth beside Magister Illyrio Mopatis. The silver-haired youth's face was a blend of firmness and handsomeness, his purple eyes filled with resolute intent, his gaze as sharp as lightning, and his entire demeanor was extraordinary.
"You are Prince Rhaegar of the House Targaryen!"
Someone recognized the features of silver hair and purple eyes, shouting the name in an instant, and the people of Myr and Lys began to feel very uncomfortable.
The stout Red Priest, his face full of fanaticism, wanted to approach Rhaegar to preach to the Dragonlord and convey the red god's greetings, but he was rebuked and sent away by Magister Illyrio Mopatis.
"Prince Rhaegar of the House Targaryen, the triumphant silver dragon of King's Landing, Silver Emperor of the Three-Headed Dragon, master of Balerion and Balerion. Grandson of Jaehaerys II, King of the andals, rhoynar people, and first men, ruler of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, second in line to the Iron Throne, customs supervisor of Bloodstone Customs, and temporary guardian of the Narrow Sea and Stepstones," the eunuch attendant beside Magister Illyrio Mopatis announced in a sweet, high-pitched voice.
Magister Illyrio Mopatis looked at Rhaegar, pondering the weight of the Red Priest's prophecy. Red Priests were always cryptic, and their prophecies were obscure. Although prophecies were as heavy as mountains, their fulfillment was difficult, and many blindly overconfident people tried to force prophecies, often ending in death and destruction of their families. Even the Dragonlord family, to verify prophecies, had those who self-immolated or drank wildfire and burned to death. After the recent Summerhall tragedy, wasn't it also due to dragon dreams and superstition? But Oldro had no doubt about Rhaegar's potential to fulfill the prophecy; magic would grant the Dragonlord the possibility of rivaling his predecessors.
"My young friend, your prank is meaningless. Even if you pretend to be my deputy attendant, you are still like a sword hidden in a pocket; its light will show," Magister Illyrio Mopatis said.
Rhaegar felt a hint of hostility in the crowd; a stout Pentos merchant with a forked, red, oiled beard, whose hands wore ten rings adorned with rubies, sapphires, tourmalines, and other gems, looked at him with resentment.
"This is Lord Casso, the prospective father-in-law of that deceased mercenary Illyrio, also from the Pentos nobility, a prince's cousin. To put it more broadly, his daughter could also be respectfully called a princess, but now, this girl might still be missing her poor, handsome, deceased fiancé. Lord Casso's mood is not good," Magister Illyrio Mopatis said in a low voice.
Rhaegar smiled, ignoring the hateful gaze.
The Khals remained impassive. Khal Balbo whispered a few words to those around him, asking about Prince Rhaegar's identity. Most Khals could only speak a few words of the Valyrian dialect of the Free Cities and were completely ignorant of the standard language spoken throughout the Seven Kingdoms. dothraki was quite different, and Rhaegar hadn't actually studied it. Although Prince Rhaegar's status was noble, the unruly Khals felt nothing.
Khals and Dragonlords generally do not interfere with each other. the dothraki people fear the sea, calling it "poison water," and they distrust any liquid that horses cannot drink. The turbulent grey-green ocean fills them with a superstitious aversion.
Looking at Khal Balbo, Rhaegar felt as if he was seeing Khal Drogo grown up. Khal Balbo's braid was as black and shiny as the midnight sky, oiled and appearing heavy, adorned with many small metal bells that jingled with his movements. His long hair reached his waist, past his hips, and brushed his thighs at the ends.
Khal Balbo had yet to taste defeat, a dothraki God of War. When Khals are defeated, they cut off their braids to symbolize the loss of honor. Judging by this Khal's hair, he must be the nightmare of the dothraki Grass Sea.
Khal Balbo was currently the most powerful Khal among the dothraki, with about thirty thousand screaming warriors. Other Khals, like Khal Mosso, had less power than him.
"Distinguished guests, a feast is rare, how can it lack delicacies and beautiful women!" Magister Illyrio Mopatis exclaimed joyfully.
Then dishes were served one after another: honey-roasted duck, lamb chops—unfortunately no sea fish, probably considering that these Khals rarely ate fish. There were also fragrant meat chunks, thick black sausages, dothraki blood pies, and later various fruits, beet soup, and exquisitely made Pentos cakes.
The main courses were naturally roasted lamb and horse meat, and the drinks even included fermented mare's milk, the dothraki's favorite.
Magister Illyrio Mopatis not only arranged for delicious food but also for dothraki women in revealing clothes to dance. This was in a Pentos courtyard, so the dothraki people showed some respect; otherwise, they might have personally joined the dancers in mating. The dothraki people's mating customs were no different from their livestock, especially in a Khalasar where there was no privacy to speak of.
After several rounds of wine, everyone ate to their heart's content. Magister Illyrio Mopatis's gifts also arrived; everyone received a small, commemorative gift. This was because most of the guests present were nobles from the known world, of extraordinary status.
The Khals and their Blood Riders received golden horses, about the size of a child. The golden horses were depicted in a galloping pose, free and conquering the world. Rhaegar was given a golden statue of a Three-Headed Dragon, with the dragon spreading its wings and soaring, its eyes specially adorned with red gems, silver gems, and purple crystals.
Rhaegar's and Khal Balbo's golden statues were larger than the others and more beautifully crafted, indicating their unique status.
The Khals and Rhaegar all received generous gifts, but Khal Mosso suddenly started babbling.
Khal Mosso pointed at the Three-Headed Dragon statue by Rhaegar's hand, stood up, and appeared very arrogant.
The eunuch by Oldro's side, who was proficient in dothraki, suddenly whispered a few words to Magister Illyrio Mopatis, whose face turned very grim.
Rhaegar looked at Khal Mosso; this Khal was not as tall or strong as Khal Balbo, and he was older than Khal Balbo, but he was still a Khal, and thus a leader among the tribes. Mosso was tall, with reddish-brown skin and a rounder face. His long black hair was dark and oily, tied into countless braids with silver bells hanging within them. Khal Mosso also had a long scar on his face, making his appearance fierce.
"Boy, I want your golden dragon, in exchange for my golden horse!" The drunken Khal Mosso, speaking in broken language, approached Rhaegar. Khals generally rarely learned other languages, but he frequently traveled to Pentos, so he occasionally knew a few phrases.
Rhaegar understood why Khal Mosso was angry: the dragon statue was larger than the golden horse, and this man was simply dissatisfied.
Magister Illyrio Mopatis was also speechless; these barbarians were synonymous with greed, chaos, and rudeness. Why provoke Rhaegar, this harbinger of misfortune?
Rhaegar looked at Khal Mosso. Normal people could not understand the dothraki way of thinking. However, they lived by plunder, found meaning in slaughter, and took pride in destruction; the entire tribe existed in a dark forest state.
A wedding feast wasn't considered successful unless a dozen people died. Let alone outsiders, even the Khal himself would be cast out if he couldn't ride a horse. Rhaegar noticed that not only Khal Mosso but other Khals were also resentful that Rhaegar and Khal Balbo received similar treatment. They dared not contend with Khal Balbo, but they had the guts to contend with Rhaegar. Rhaegar saw the young Khal Drogo also dissatisfied that a youth received the same treatment as his great Khal father.
"My things, I can give them, but you cannot take them by force!" Rhaegar also stood up, looking at Khal Mosso. Khal Mosso was indeed taller than him, but that was all.
"No!" Magister Illyrio Mopatis turned pale with fright. This damned feast, a Khal and a Dragonlord clashing? He should have known to absolutely prevent the Dragonlord and the Khal from meeting; both were fearless, one barbaric, one arrogant. Magister Illyrio Mopatis summoned his Unsullied attendants to stop Khal Mosso, but they were roughly pushed away by Khal Mosso.
Seeing the Unsullied Eunuchs approaching, Khal Mosso's three Blood Riders also followed. Other Khals, however, began to applaud, their Blood Riders by their sides, and the situation had become very difficult to manage.
"Then let us duel! You have provoked the dignity of a dothraki warrior!" Khal Mosso pulled out an arakh and rushed forward eagerly. This was a weapon that was half sword, half scythe, with a long, razor-sharp blade.
The blade flashed, and Khal Mosso lunged at Rhaegar. Although he was crude, his skill could indeed be considered first-rate; he was fast and ruthless, and many souls had fallen beneath his arakh.
Rhaegar raised orphan maker, and his first sword strike blocked Khal Mosso's attack. Rhaegar spun with force, and his second sword strike directly cut Khal Mosso's arakh in half. Rhaegar's third sword drew an arc; he hadn't intended to bully the Khal with orphan maker, but this barbarian was truly asking for death.
Rhaegar's black longsword sliced into the Dothraki Khal's waist, cutting him open from spine to belly, spilling his internal organs onto the floor, adding a bloody dance to the joyous feast. Khal Mosso's body was cleaved in two by the black sword, and Khal Mosso struggled and died miserably.
The masters among mortals are merely first-rate, but above first-rate are True Dragons forged by magic.
Rhaegar understood the abnormal power of Valyrian steel weapons; these weapons were light and sharp, truly cheats in battle. They possessed greater power with less physical exertion.
Khal Mosso's three Blood Riders struggled; two rushed forward, but Rhaegar struck them down, merely adding two more deceased souls. The third Blood Rider actually tried to flee but was stopped by Khal Balbo's Blood Rider and killed with an arakh for betraying his sacred oath.
"This guest's swordsmanship, it seems, is not as tough as his mouth!" Rhaegar wiped orphan maker on the deceased Khal Mosso's clothes, surveying the banquet scene, and no one dared to refute him. The Khals were merely arrogant, not fools; seeing such a vast difference, no one dared to challenge him.
Within three moves, Rhaegar had cut a Khal in half. On the battlefield, he was an incomparable presence.
The guests were terrified, those delicacies and beauties now only made them feel nauseous.
Some guests could no longer endure it and fled far away to vomit.
Young Drogo looked at Rhaegar with envy, jealousy, or perhaps fear, or the ambition to surpass him.
"Why aren't you eating? This dinner is so delicious and precious." Rhaegar put away orphan maker and casually sat down with Magister Illyrio Mopatis. "Continue the music, continue the dance!"
"Yes! Yes! Yes!" Magister Illyrio Mopatis tremblingly raised his cup, and the feast continued. Magister Illyrio Mopatis seemed to sense a bloody smell, a heavy, bloody odor that made him want to vomit, but he dared not lose his composure.
Casso's face turned pale and powerless, filled with a kind of fear. He no longer dared to recall Illyrio's death, choosing to believe the man had simply disappeared.
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