"Shierak qiya."
"Many people call it that."
Jhiqui told her own khaleesi how the Dothraki referred to the comet in the sky, the one that stained half the heavens red.
Jhiqui had been born into a khalasar that had once opposed Khal Drogo. Later, her khalasar was defeated by Drogo, and she herself was reduced to slavery.
At Daenerys's wedding, she had been given to Daenerys as a wedding gift, with the purpose of teaching her the Dothraki tongue.
So when Daenerys asked, she was the first to answer.
"This phrase means that this comet is called the Bleeding Star."
"What a miracle."
Daenerys sat with her three handmaids on a stone step in one part of the luxurious and magnificent palace of her husband, Khal Drogo, in Vaes Dothrak, lifting her head to look at the comet above them, trailing its long tail.
Daenerys marveled in wonder at the strange sight before her.
Her belly was already quite large now. From time to time, she could even feel the little life within her kick her once or twice.
This sensation made her feel happy without realizing it, yet it also made her sad—happy that she had a child, that the bloodline of House Targaryen had been passed on.
But sad because Viserys would never be able to see this scene.
He was not of the blood of the true dragon.
Suddenly, Daenerys felt her belly move again, and a conspicuous bulge rose from it.
Irri happened to see this.
"Khaleesi, in two months Khal Drogo's son will be born. The dosh khaleen told you to move about more during this time; it will make your labor easier."
Irri said with a smile, reaching out to help Daenerys up from the stone step.
At the side, Doreah heard this and could not help but become excited as well, leaping up from the steps.
"Then shall we go stroll through the market? We can buy a few things."
When Doreah mentioned the market, Daenerys could not help but think of the market of Vaes Dothrak.
Merchants were in fact able to travel freely and without interference between the Dothraki Sea and Vaes Dothrak.
As long as they obeyed the commandment forbidding violence within the Holy City, did not profane the Mother of Mountains or the Womb of the World, and, according to tradition, presented gifts such as salt, silver, and seeds to the old women of the dosh khaleen, it was enough.
In this "City of the Horse Lords," there were a total of two markets. The western market was an extremely large bazaar, occupied by merchants from the Free Trade Cities.
This market formed a vast square. The ground was hard-packed earth, and it was ringed by mud-brick huts, livestock pens, and wine halls plastered with lime.
Its surface rose in small mounds, with spacious storage cellars beneath the ground. At the very center of the square were rows of stalls and winding, uneven passageways.
As for the eastern market, it was a place where merchants from Asshai, Yi Ti, and the Shadow Lands traded with one another.
Here one could find many rare goods, such as manticores, gray elephants, and the black-and-white zorses of the Jogos Nhai.
However, although buying and selling were permitted within the Holy City of Vaes Dothrak, the Dothraki themselves believed that trade was unmanly.
Thus, they often conducted trade through the giving and receiving of gifts.
Only, the giving of a gift in return did not always happen immediately after receiving one; there was often a process in between.
This was something that Ser Jorah Mormont had casually told her after the death of Viserys Targaryen, while strolling through the market one day.
After hearing the two women's suggestions, Daenerys could not help but touch her already prominently swollen belly. After thinking it over, she felt that going out for a stroll would be fine.
"I don't know which market I should go to. Can you give me a little advice?" Dany said, looking toward the three of them.
Hearing that they could go out for a stroll, both Irri and Jhiqui could not help but feel pleased as well.
As for Doreah, she could not conceal her excitement at all and immediately spoke up. "Let's go to the western market. If it's just for strolling around and buying some everyday necessities, it's the most suitable place."
Myr had many similar items and handicrafts, and Dany could not help but feel tempted.
Moreover, for Dany, the eastern market of the city was a place filled with wonder and magic.
But the western market gave her a feeling of home, like the feeling she had as a child in Braavos, or in the alleys of Tyrosh and Myr.
The air there was thick with the pungent bite of garlic and pepper, along with the cloyingly sweet perfume of Lys, sweet enough to make one feel dizzy.
"Then let's call Ser Jorah Mormont and the others as well. Today we can stay out until evening before coming back. My sun-and-stars has taken his bloodriders out onto the grasslands to hunt for a hrakkar—the great white lion of the plains. I hope he returns in triumph."
"Irri, have a litter prepared for me, and also notify my khas retinue."
Before long, a rider came at once. His boots were bound with horsehair leggings, he wore a painted vest, and coarse black body hair covered his broad chest and powerful arms, making him look no different from a Dothraki.
After the death of Viserys Targaryen, Jorah Mormont naturally chose to swear his loyalty to Daenerys Targaryen.
Daenerys likewise accepted him as a matter of course.
Four young members of the khas, together with Jorah Mormont—five people in all—formed the guard for this outing as Dany went to visit the market.
On the road leading to the western market, Dany sat in the litter, swaying gently, her hand unconsciously rising to stroke her round, swollen belly.
The happiness that had been on her face in the palace earlier was gone. At some point, a sense of sadness settled over her.
"Khaleesi, just two days ago a large number of caravans entered the city—more than six hundred horses in all. I've heard they came from Pentos, passing through Norvos and Qohor."
"The caravan leader is Byan Fotylis. Governor Illyrio previously agreed to stay in correspondence with us. Perhaps he sent a message as well."
Sensing the gloom on Dany's face, Ser Jorah Mormont thought for a moment and brought up a caravan that had arrived at the western market a few days earlier.
At his words, Dany's slightly wandering attention was drawn back.
She considered it for a moment, then shook her head.
"Governor Illyrio's letter is not urgent. If he sent word, we can see it at any time."
"What I'm worried about now is something else. If possible, I would like you to go and speak with my husband."
Seeing that Daenerys showed no interest at all even in the matter of the caravan, Jorah Mormont frowned slightly.
"Princess, may I ask what you command?"
"I want Drogo to agree to do what he should do for me, but he says that riding the finest horse in the world will rule the whole world, and that there is no need to cross the poison water."
"He also said that after Rhaego is born, he will lead the khalasar eastward to plunder the lands along the Jade Sea, that riding the finest horse in the world requires no iron chair—"
Perhaps thinking of Viserys, or perhaps of her former home, Dany spoke as she lifted her head to look at the comet overhead.
"Rhaego will be born in less than two months. I no longer have time, so I want you to go and persuade Drogo."
"The Free Trade Cities have thousands of ships. They are like wooden horses that have grown hundreds of legs, able to let horses ride the wind and spread their wings, to cross the seas. He must go west."
"Please, help me, Ser Jorah."
This matter had been troubling Dany all along. Ever since Viserys died, Drogo had lost interest in invading Westeros, and she did not want to see things turn out this way.
Even if her child was destined to rule the world, she still wanted Drogo to first conquer the Seven Kingdoms she had never seen. She could no longer wait, nor did she want to keep waiting.
Viserys had told her many stories about that land and had promised her thousands of times that one day he would take her home.
But he was dead, and all those promises naturally no longer counted.
Yet faced with Dany's plea, Jorah Mormont could not help but frown.
How could he possibly do what Dany was asking him to do?
He could not give her such a promise.
"Princess, please be patient, and do not repeat your brother's mistakes."
"The Dothraki act according to their own pace and their own reasons—"
However, faced with the lost look that returned to Daenerys's eyes, Jorah Mormont fell silent mid-sentence.
After thinking for a moment, he still added a word of comfort. "We will go home. I promise you."
Home?
That word only made Dany feel sorrow.
How unreal, how cheap Jorah Mormont's promise was.
Ser Jorah had Bear Island to return to—but where was her home?
Was it those few stories, or those names solemnly chanted like prayers?
Or was it the red-painted door in her memories, gradually fading away?
She could no longer rely on the dead Viserys, nor could she achieve this matter even in the name of the child in her belly.
Was Vaes Dothrak to be her eternal destination?
Would her own future be the same as that of those many aged crones of the dosh khaleen she had seen?
Was this her future?
Jorah Mormont's promise received no response from Daenerys, and the group continued on in such silence all the way to the western market.
Catching the familiar scents in the air, seeing the slaves carrying heavy Myrish lace and fine wool in more than a dozen rich colors—
Dany's heart stirred once more with resentment.
If she were not of the blood of the true dragon, this place would be her home.
But for one of true dragon blood, it was not enough…
She was the descendant of kings and conquerors, and within her she was carrying a child destined to inherit the same fate.
She could not forget.
"Ser Jorah, you just said that Governor Illyrio would send us a letter, is that correct?"
Dany's gaze gradually grew sharp. Looking at the bustling market before her, she suddenly spoke.
"Yes, Princess—"
Hearing Daenerys's voice, Jorah was momentarily startled and hurriedly raised his head to look at her.
"I want to send a reply to Governor Illyrio. That shouldn't be a problem, should it?"
"Of course not, Princess."
"Good—."
Having received his answer, the expression on Dany's face gradually brightened. She turned her attention back to the market before her, and could not help but feel happy as well.
She allowed herself, for the moment, not to think about those matters. She knew that what she most needed to do now was to give birth to the child.
Entering the market, Daenerys seemed to have cast aside her earlier worries. After getting down from the litter, she began to move her feet, shifting her increasingly cumbersome body, and happily enjoy herself.
In the market, although the caravan guards still wore red-copper helmets and padded cotton coats, the leather belts at their waists held only empty scabbards that swayed as they walked.
Behind one stall, an armorer was displaying fine steel breastplates inlaid with gold and silver, or helmets fashioned into the shapes of exotic birds and strange beasts—things that Dany could not help but be drawn to.
There were young, beautiful women selling gold ornaments from Lannisport—rings, brooches, bracelets, and even medallions that could be worn as belts.
Standing beside her was a tall, powerfully built eunuch, completely hairless and silent.
The mildly warm weather had soaked his velvet garments with sweat, yet he scowled fiercely at everyone who came near. A fat cloth merchant from Yi Ti was arguing with a Pentoshi over the price of a certain dye, shaking his head incessantly, the monkey tail on his hat looking exceedingly comical.
"When I was little, I liked playing in the market the most. There were people everywhere, shouting and laughing, and so many novel things."
"It was the most lively place, but usually we couldn't afford to buy anything, except now and then a sausage, or a honey stick…"
"Oh, right—I also remember that a few years ago there was a mercenary who was very tall and strong, even taller than Drogo. At his side followed a chestnut warhorse—"
"He bought my mother's crown. After that, I saw him several more times. Sometimes he would even secretly avoid Viserys and invite me to eat something, because Viserys did not want to see him."
"It was because of that very transaction that Viserys gained a humiliating epithet."
"He was very generous. He had black hair and deep blue eyes. Oh, right—he also told me his name. If I remember correctly, it should have been Kal."
As Daenerys wove with Jorah Mormont through the shaded passageways between the stalls, she spoke excitedly with him about memories from the past, or about the novel things she saw.
Yet while Dany was animatedly talking with Ser Jorah, and at the same time trying to stir his memory of that person so that he would help her persuade Drogo, Jorah Mormont, for reasons unknown, appeared somewhat distracted.
"There are many mercenaries in the Free Trade Cities, but I do not know the person you are speaking of," Jorah Mormont said, casting a somewhat impatient glance into the distance.
Then he turned back, bowed to Dany, and said apologetically, "Princess, please excuse me. I need to go find the caravan leader and see whether there is any letter for us."
Hearing this, Dany immediately set aside that pleasant memory from her mind.
"That's great. I'll look with you!"
"There's no need to trouble yourself. Please enjoy the market to your heart's content. I will return at once after I've finished. The caravan will remain here for some time. When you have finished writing your reply, I can deliver it to Byan Fotylis for you."
Jorah Mormont declined Dany's wish to go along and then slipped alone into the crowd and departed.
Watching his retreating figure, Dany thought it over and felt it made sense. She then turned back to continue enjoying herself.
The bustle here, and the languages spoken all around, made her feel as though she were not in some distant place far from home.
Thus, Dany led her party along as they walked and played, stopping from time to time to eat strange yet tasty foods, and to admire various finely made goods.
Each time, she would accept the other party's offering, and then untie a silver medallion from her waist and give it back to the merchant in return—for example, a beautiful feathered cloak from the Summer Isles that she liked very much.
Until she came before a merchant who specialized in selling slaves.
The merchant seemed to recognize her. As soon as he saw her, he hurried forward and stopped Daenerys.
"Honored Princess, please allow me to pay my respects to you."
"And you are?"
It had been a long time since Dany had heard this title from anyone other than Ser Jorah, yet she did not remember knowing the man before her, who was not particularly tall.
Still less a slave trader.
At Dany's surprise, the slave trader did not mind at all. Instead, he knelt on one knee in salute.
"I am merely an unworthy former Westerosi noble. Because I did not wish to don black and become a man of the Night's Watch, I fled that place and came to the Free Trade Cities to make a living."
"That was only because I chose to be loyal to House Targaryen rather than to the so-called usurper."
"Your beauty—your silver hair and violet eyes—all prove your noble lineage. Prince Rhaegar once looked the same as you."
Only after finishing this introduction did the slave trader raise his head to look at Daenerys, who wore an astonished expression at his words.
"So, in order to express my respect for you, I wish to present you with a gift."
As he spoke, before Daenerys could recover from this sudden shock, the slave trader signaled his assistant to drag several slaves out from the crowd, iron collars fastened around their necks.
"In the Seven Kingdoms, no matter which noble it is, one must have servants at their side, to serve their lord."
"Among these are cooks, stewards, nurses, grooms, gardeners from the Seven Kingdoms, as well as kennel keepers responsible for raising your hunting hounds, and jesters who can bring you amusement in your idle moments."
"After learning that you were here, these are the gifts I deliberately sought out for you."
"Princess, I hope they can be of help to you, and I hope you will accept my gift, as an expression of my respect for House Targaryen."
"At the same time, let them serve you, to set off the status that is rightfully yours."
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