Tonight was quiet in the city, save for another feast hosted by the Prince of Pentos.
However, the guest of honor had shifted. It was no longer Viserys, but the newly arrived Khal Jhiqui. The venue, too, had moved to the manse allocated to the Khal.
Khal Jhiqui commanded roughly two thousand screamers. His khalasar was slightly larger when counting the women, children, and slaves, but in the grand scheme of the Dothraki Sea, it was a minor tribe.
The largest khalasars boasted over forty thousand riders, and that was with the Dothraki fractured. Should they ever unite, the numbers would be staggering.
Jhiqui's tribe was encamped outside Pentos. While the warriors roamed, the women, children, and slaves tended to the vast herds of livestock, rapidly erecting grass palaces and devouring every scrap of food in sight.
The Khal himself, however, resided in a seaside manse to enjoy the flattery and gifts of the Magisters.
Being a lesser Khal, Jhiqui was given a manse with only four towers. The Pentoshi were masters of snobbery; the highest honor, the nine-tower manse, was reserved for the most powerful warlords.
Seated on the dais in the reception hall were the Prince of Pentos and the Dothraki Khal. Jhiqui looked to be in his twenties or thirties, the strongest warrior of his tribe.
Though his power was small on the Great Grass Sea, here in Pentos, he was a king.
Below them, on one side sat the Pentoshi Magisters, and on the other, the Dothraki bloodriders and elite warriors. The Dothraki sat bare-chested, wearing painted leather vests and horsehair leggings, with bronze medallions on their belts.
Only the Khal and his bloodriders wore belts of gold or silver.
Viserys and the other Magisters were seated together. As a guest, he followed the host's arrangements. The Pentoshi were anxious, fearing conflict between their two young, volatile guests.
The Khal was a towering figure with copper skin and drooping mustachios bound in metal rings. His black hair was oiled and braided, hung with silver bells that chimed when he moved.
When visiting the Free Cities, the Khals would often don fine silks and perfumes, unlike their subordinates.
Next to him, the Prince of Pentos looked visibly stiff. Everyone knew the horselords were unpredictable savages.
"These are gifts for you, Great Khal," Illyrio Mopatis announced.
Servants opened cedar chests to reveal a dazzling array of treasures. Spices, pepper, gold, fine wine, honey—everything the Dothraki craved.
The Khals never visited for free. Every time they came, they left with wagonloads of tribute.
Of course, they didn't come empty-handed either; they would "gift" slaves and horses to the Pentoshi, for which the Pentoshi were expected to "gift" back even more wealth.
Khal Jhiqui noticed Viserys. Among the pot-bellied merchants and foppish courtiers, Viserys stood out like a crane among chickens.
He was handsome, lacking the sleazy, oiled look of the Pentoshi men with their forked beards. He looked like a warrior—martial and resolute.
Viserys was the only one among the Magisters wearing silver armor. He clearly wasn't Pentoshi.
"Who is the silver-hair?" Jhiqui asked curiously.
The translator relayed the question to the Prince of Pentos.
The Prince forced a smile. "That is King Viserys of Andalos, our honored guest."
Jhiqui committed the name to memory. Viserys, the new King of Andalos.
He hadn't expected the hill country to have a King.
A thought turned in Jhiqui's mind. He had received gifts. This young man had also received gifts.
A wild idea took root. I cannot defeat Drogo, but surely I can defeat a milk-man in an iron suit?
Drogo was expanding rapidly in the Dothraki Sea, crushing all opposition. To avoid being swallowed, Jhiqui planned to lay low in Pentos for a while.
In that case, the more gold and goods he had, the better.
As for guest right... Hah. Dothraki spit on the laws of milk-men.
Viserys caught the flash of greed in the Khal's eyes. These Khals were gluttonous, but not mindless. They possessed a cunning unique to their kind.
"Let us toast to the arrival of Khal Jhiqui!" Illyrio raised his cup, his voice as sweet as honey, soothing the Dothraki's ego.
The Magisters and Viserys dined on roasted beef and lamb, fresh fish, honeyed chicken, mushroom soup, and oxtail soup—dishes suited to civilized palates.
The Khal and his bloodriders gorged on roast horsemeat seasoned with honey and peppers, washing it down with fermented mare's milk and fine wine, laughing raucously.
To a Dothraki, horsemeat was superior to all other flesh.
Drums began to beat, and Dothraki women danced for the Khal's pleasure.
Jhiqui laughed loudly, watching the swaying curves of the dancers.
Some of his warriors watched too, until lust got the better of them.
Viserys frowned slightly. This Khal had little respect for his hosts, doing exactly as he pleased.
Lust soon sparked violence. Two Dothraki screamers began to argue over a dancer.
Shouts turned to roars, and two arakhs were drawn instantly.
The arakh was a vicious weapon, half sword, half scythe, razor-sharp.
Steel flashed in the torchlight. The two warriors cursed each other, launching into a deadly dance in the middle of the hall. The dancers scattered in fear.
This was a duel to the death. The warriors slashed and parried, blades whirling.
One warrior hesitated for a fraction of a second. His opponent seized the opening.
"Die!"
Death came swiftly. The curved blade sliced across the man's belly, spilling entrails and blood onto the floor.
The loser died screaming. The winner claimed the woman right there on the floor.
Dothraki slaves scurried in to drag away the corpse and scrub the blood from the marble.
A beast remains a beast, even in a palace.
Viserys watched the scene coldly. These men didn't value their own lives, let alone anyone else's.
Bloodthirsty, cruel, primitive. And undisciplined—they followed only the strongest.
Aggo and Hugo looked disgusted, but they understood this was the Dothraki way. Women were property; life was cheap.
"Armor-wearing cowards! Milk-men!" Several drunk Dothraki jeered at Viserys and Aggo, making obscene gestures. Aggo understood only a little Dothraki, but the insults were universal.
Viserys remained impassive. He understood every word but pretended deafness.
Illyrio glanced nervously at Viserys, terrified a brawl would break out right there.
From the high table, Khal Jhiqui watched with amusement but did not intervene. Dothraki only respected strength, even from a tyrant.
Viserys signaled Aggo and Hugo to stand down. Under the guest right of the Prince of Pentos, even a Khal was expected to keep the peace, mostly.
But the insults burned the Andal warriors. Aggo memorized the faces of the jeering Dothraki, itching to take their heads.
The scent of blood hung heavy in the air. Most Magisters ignored it, accustomed to Dothraki manners, but some new guests struggled to keep down their dinner.
Viserys remained calm. He had no duty to police the savages.
After the bloody meal concluded, Viserys left with the Magisters.
"Milk-men! Milk-men!"
"Cowards in iron suits! Weaklings in stone houses!" Drunken screamers laughed and shouted as they left, their bells jingling, pointing mockingly at their crotches.
The Andal knights marched in silence, disciplined as a forest of steel, ignoring the taunts.
"Sweet dreams tonight, King Viserys," Illyrio said at the gate. "The Khal is a greedy guest, but we must treat him well."
Illyrio assumed Viserys hadn't understood the insults.
"And to you, Magister." Viserys feigned ignorance. In truth, thanks to Ser Willem Darry and Ser Rolly, he spoke the horselord tongue fluently.
"Move out!" Viserys ordered.
The knights surrounded their King, moving with purpose back to Viserys's manse.
Once the Magisters were out of earshot, Viserys issued his orders.
"Tell the knights to eat early and rest early. Tonight, we may face a bloody battle," Viserys said.
"You mean the horselords will attack?" Aggo asked.
"Yes," Viserys nodded.
"Khal Jhiqui coveted the gifts he received, but I saw him eyeing ours as well. As for the insults... to a Dothraki, failing to respond to a provocation is a sign of weakness. They think we are prey."