"Ten... no, no, no, a thousand!" The Ashai man's eyes, mostly white, flickered with a mad, golden-yellow light. "Mother of Dragons, how about fifty thousand Golden Radiance Coins?"
"Not too steep," Daenerys nodded.
A cunning glint flashed in the thin man's eyes. "I mean, fifty thousand per egg. One hundred thousand for two."
"Hiss—" An old woman selling fermented sheep's milk beside them gasped. "You were only asking ten silver coins before, and no one even bought them!"
"Wow!" The crowd was stunned by the price.
"Are you saying a single dragon isn't worth fifty thousand gold coins?" Bao Han, his dark face flushed crimson, shouted to the crowd. "I'm the Mother of Dragons' certified seller! These are genuine dragon eggs from Asshai, treasures that can hatch true dragons!"
"Ahem," Daenerys interrupted, leaning close to his ear and whispering, "you're going too far. These are dragon eggs assembled from shattered fossils. Even I couldn't hatch a dragon from them."
"You're lying!" he hissed, his voice low and furious, barely escaping through gritted teeth.
Daenerys chuckled. "Whether I'm lying or not, you know the truth. And even if I were, everyone here would believe me. What do you think?"
"Great Mother of Dragons, how about ten thousand? No..." The gaunt man immediately softened, pleading, "Five thousand Shining Coins for you? I'll give you both."
"What use do I have for two broken stones?" Daenerys shook her head, and in his desperate eyes, she spoke words that lifted him back to heaven: "However, I won't deliberately sabotage your get-rich-quick scheme."
"Thank you, thank you, Mother of Dragons!" After swinging between despair and elation several times, Bao Han was nearly in tears.
"But there's one condition," Daenerys said, revealing four pearly white teeth. "You must answer two questions for me."
"Of course! Not just two, twenty if you like!" The Ashai nodded vigorously.
Jorah and White-Bearded Astan were both vigilant. As soon as Daenerys leaned in to whisper with the merchant, they circled around to shield her from outside view.
Then they heard Daenerys ask, "Where did you get these broken dragon egg fossils?"
Bao Han spoke quickly, his voice trembling. "Legend says Asshai is the birthplace of dragons. In ancient times, explorers found dragon eggs deep within mountain caves.
I don't know if the legend is true, and I've never seen a hatchable dragon egg. But Asshai does have dragon egg fossils."
You know, Asshai is an extremely harsh place to live. We have to rely on merchant ships to bring in even basic food and water. But we do have abundant gold and silver mines.
From time to time, slaves in the mines unearth dragon egg fossils that look like gems, or peculiar jade stones shaped like dragon eggs.
Often, we can't even tell if they're true dragon eggs or just gemstones. We usually sell them as gems, though they fetch higher prices than ordinary jade.
However, the Wizards and Red God priests have unconventional uses for these dragon egg fossils. The Ashai all know they've repeatedly tried to hatch dragons from these stone eggs.
But how is that possible? Stone is an inanimate object. Even if it once was a dragon egg, how could it hatch a living creature after ten million years? Uh...
Bao Han glanced at Daenerys with awe and asked softly, "Where did your dragon come from?"
"Go ask your mother," Daenerys replied curtly.
"My mother is dead."
Bao Han, reading her expression, quickly changed the subject. With a mix of regret and relief, he said, "These two eggs of mine are the product of a failed experiment. They were cracked into pieces by a wild fire—that's what the Fire Sorcerer told me when he sold them to me.
I originally thought he was bragging and didn't believe they were dragon eggs, until you confirmed it today."
"Fire Sorcerer" White-Bearded Astan blinked in surprise. "I never imagined the wizards of Asshai were just as mad," he murmured.
"How much did you pay for it?" Jorah interjected.
"Five thousand Hui," Bao Han said, nervously holding up two fingers under the knight's sharp gaze. "Two silver coins, but my processing fee..."
Daenerys cut him off. "Enough of that. One last question: do you know where to find dragon egg fossils?"
The gaunt man nodded firmly. "Asshai. The Grand Sorcerers' magic towers all have one or two dragon eggs, real or fake, used as decorations or in the hope of hatching a dragon.
Mother of Dragons, you can't imagine their obsession with dragons. If you had dragon dung, you could exchange it for its weight in gold in Asshai."
*Dragon dung?*
Daenerys's three dragons did defecate, but their droppings were relatively small, like lumps of black stone.
Still, she didn't throw them in the latrine. Instead, she collected them, ground some into powder, and mixed it with horse feed.
Whether it truly strengthened their bodies was uncertain, but the warhorses of the eighty Roaring Warriors were gradually growing less wobbly under the Dragon's Might.
In the future, if we clash with enemy cavalry, a single pass of the dragon through the sky will leave our forces unscathed while crippling half their mounts.
Hmm, the Dragon's Might is truly effective. Daenerys has tested it herself—beasts flee in terror in its presence.
Not just dragons, but Direwolves too are legendary beasts. Robb Stark always sends them to disrupt enemy cavalry formations during battles.
Even the docile gelding warhorses, upon catching the scent of a Direwolf, become impossible for seasoned knights to control, stampeding in panic.
"Sell me a dose of your stone-adhering potion," Daenerys said.
Bao Han looked surprised. "You too...?"
"Hmm?" Daenerys gave him a sidelong glance, her tone rising.
"Understood, understood! I get it!" Bao Han beamed like a long-lost friend finding a kindred spirit. He winked conspiratorially at Daenerys, then cheerfully retrieved a fist-sized glass bottle from behind his stall. He tore off a piece of parchment and scribbled furiously.
"The potion, the formula, and even how to mask the color difference—everything you need is right here!" He handed the bottle and paper to Daenerys with a grin. "Guaranteed to work, no tricks, fair prices for all!"
"How much?" Daenerys asked.
"Ten silver coins," Bao Han said, rubbing his hands together.
"You really have the nerve to ask that," Jorah sneered.
"My potions were also purchased from an Ashai Wizard," Bao Han argued.
Daenerys unfastened two silver medals from her belt and pressed them into his hand. "Is this enough?"
The medals were as large as her palm and remarkably thick, while ordinary silver coins were only the size of a one-yuan coin.
Bao Han's face lit up as he rubbed the medals. "Enough, enough, more than enough!" he exclaimed.
They created a path through the crowd of merchants and travelers, and Daenerys's group continued on.
After they left, Bao Han's stall became even more crowded, with people clamoring to see the dragon egg.
Leaving the commercial district, Daenerys arrived at the seaside embankment.
Gray-black rocks formed the coastline, from which several long stone piers extended into the bay like fingers from a hand. These piers, stretching one to two kilometers into the sea, were filled with ships of all kinds.
The central pier, positioned like a middle finger, was the most desirable. It perfectly avoided the fierce winds and turbulent waves of the narrow strait and was closest to both the commercial district and the warehouses.
This pier belonged exclusively to the Thirteen Great Masters.
Daenerys even spotted Zharo's figure. His luxurious carriage was parked beneath a magnificent sea vessel, its side emblazoned with the words "Cinnabar Kiss" in white lettering.
Two gangplanks connected the ship's hull to the stone pier. One was used for unloading, where bare-chested sailors carried crates of Eastern spices—saffron, frankincense, and pepper—from the ship and placed them onto carts waiting at the vessel's side.
The other gangplank was used for loading. Barrels of wine, bundles of sorrel, and stacks of zebra hides were unloaded from the carts and transported up the gangplank to fill the ship's empty holds.
*Perhaps they'll set sail with the tide tonight,* she thought.
"This is certainly efficient," Daenerys said, "but don't the ships need repairs? And the sailors—they've just returned to Qarth and are already loading cargo for another voyage. Aren't they exhausted?"
Jorah considered this. "Perhaps they'll swap crews. As for the ships, a maintenance check every six months is sufficient. The Jade Sea is calmer, and the voyages are shorter."
Zharo, from his carriage, also noticed Daenerys's group. Neither side made any move to approach or converse. Zharo turned back to continue shouting at the workers, while Daenerys pressed on along the coast without pausing.
Next to the Thirteen Great Masters' exclusive dock, roughly where the middle finger would be, lay a long stone pier belonging to the Spice Guild.
Daenerys could almost guess that the "index finger" on the other side must be the Tourmaline Brotherhood's exclusive dock.
The three major merchant guilds of Qarth each occupied the most prime dock areas.
The Spice Guild's pier was bustling with activity. People gathered around a galley named the *Sun Chariot*, shouting bids and raising their hands to bid on slaves.
"As you know, if you want to save money on slaves, you buy them at the ship's side," Jorah explained to Daenerys.
"From Slaver's Bay?" Daenerys asked, frowning.
Jorah stood in his stirrups, scrutinizing the banner flying from the *Sun Chariot*'s main mast. "It's likely from Astapor. Look at the harpy on the flag. It's holding a heavy chain in its claws, with a pair of unclasped manacles at each end. That's Astapor's symbol."
"Are they selling Unsullied?" Daenerys asked, standing on tiptoe to get a better look. The men and women were all naked, and none wore the Unsullied's distinctive lightning-rod helmets.
"Unsullied, the elite slaves, wouldn't be sold here," Jorah said, shaking his head.
"Oh, there are horse-people too," Daenerys said, spotting a group of bronze-skinned youths with almond-shaped eyes and long braids—classic Dothraki features.
They were all young, in their teens or early twenties.
"Unsullied must be trained from childhood," Jorah said, also puzzled. "Adult horse-people are usually sent to Meereen to become gladiators. How did they end up here?"
"Sir, you and Aggo go buy them," Daenerys said, stopping her mount at the harbor entrance. Jorah and Aggo dismounted and quickly pushed through the crowd.
About fifteen minutes later, the two men returned leading a long line of half-grown horse-people.
Now, the horse-people slaves wore drab linen dresses—the kind Qarth men wore. They had been naked earlier for the convenience of potential buyers inspecting their bodies.
About twenty in total, they wore bronze slave collars around their necks. The proud spirit of the horse-people was gone, replaced by flickering eyes and timid glances. None dared to look directly at Daenerys on her horse.
*They've been broken by the Astaporians,* Daenerys thought with a sigh.
-----------------------
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(End of Chapter)