The study of Illyrio was filled with the mixed scent of cinnamon and red wine, and the candlelight on the oak table flickered, casting long shadows of the two men. Illyrio leaned back in his armchair, toying with a golden ring, his gaze scrutinizing, clearly waiting for Illyrio to explain the situation with the shawl.
"Did you get the shawl back?" Illyrio asked first, tapping his fingers lightly on the table. "Nothing unexpected happened, did it? I heard the slum area isn't very peaceful, with ruffians often causing trouble."
Illyrio's heart tightened—Illyrio actually knew about the slum, which meant he had informants outside. He suppressed his thoughts and nodded with a smile: "Thanks to your blessing, it was retrieved smoothly. I just encountered a few hooligans on the way, nothing serious." He deliberately concealed the matter of tracking the Lannister informant, not mentioning the assassination plot in the warehouse. "I've already given the shawl to Daenerys, and she loves it. She said she would definitely wear it well at the wedding."
"That's good." Illyrio put down the golden ring, picked up his wine glass, and took a sip. "But there's another matter I need to discuss with you—Drogo's Khalasar will camp on the plains outside Pentos city tomorrow morning, and the wedding will be held in the center of the camp. I'm worried that the Dothraki are hot-tempered. If any tribesman doesn't understand the rules and offends Daenerys, or gets into a conflict with our people, it will affect the alliance. You're quick-witted, can you go to the Khalasar in advance tomorrow and help coordinate?"
This was exactly the opportunity Illyrio wanted! He suppressed his inner excitement, pretending to be deep in thought: "Your consideration is thorough, the Dothraki indeed have their own rules, and coordinating in advance can avoid a lot of trouble. However… I am an outsider after all, and they might not listen to me. It would be even better if Drogo's Blood Riders could help maintain order."
He deliberately mentioned the Blood Riders—the Blood Riders were Drogo's most trusted people. As long as he could gain their support, he could set up controls within the Khalasar and screen for Lannister assassins in advance.
Illyrio thought for a moment and nodded in agreement: "Alright, I've mentioned you to Drogo, saying you are a reliable helper for Targaryen. When you go tomorrow, take this pot of mare's milk wine—the Dothraki like this. Give it to Drogo's chief Blood Rider, Kohol, and he will help you coordinate." As he spoke, he took out a leather pouch from under the table, containing a milky white liquid, which was the mare's milk wine commonly drunk by the Dothraki.
"Thank you, Your Excellency!" Illyrio took the leather pouch, relieved—the first step of his plan was successful. He could legitimately enter the Khalasar early tomorrow to scout for the assassins' locations.
When he left the study, the candlelight in the corridor was already dim. The servant in the black robe was standing at the stairwell, holding a tray with a cup of hot milk, apparently going to deliver it to Daenerys. Seeing Illyrio, the servant's eyes flickered, he lowered his head slightly, and quickly walked towards Daenerys's room.
Illyrio quietly followed behind, watching the servant knock on Daenerys's door, and heard Daenerys say, "No need, I'm not thirsty." The servant had no choice but to turn and leave. As he passed Illyrio, the servant paused, as if wanting to say something, but ultimately did not speak and hurried down the stairs.
"He's still trying to gather information, as expected." Illyrio frowned—this servant was definitely confirming Daenerys's routine to prepare for tomorrow's assassination. He had to warn Daenerys as soon as possible that no matter who delivered anything tomorrow, she must not open the door, and especially not interact with this servant alone.
He walked to Daenerys's door and knocked softly: "Your Highness, it's me."
The door opened quickly, and Daenerys stood at the doorway, still holding the dragon-patterned shawl, apparently still figuring out how to wear it. "You're back? Did Illyrio say anything?"
"He didn't say anything, and even asked me to go to the Khalasar early tomorrow to coordinate order." Illyrio entered the room, closed the door, "Let me tell you the precautions for tomorrow—first, when you wear the Dothraki clothes, drape the shawl over them so that everyone can see the dragon pattern; second, Kohol is Drogo's chief Blood Rider. Tomorrow I will give him the mare's milk wine. When you see him, say 'Mokha, Kohol' (Thank you, Kohol), and he will have a good impression of you; third, no matter who brings you food or water, you must let me check it first, and don't eat it casually."
Daenerys nodded seriously, taking Illyrio's words to heart: "I understand. Oh, Viserys just came to see me and said that I should tell Drogo at the wedding tomorrow to send troops as soon as possible, otherwise I won't marry him."
Illyrio's heart sank—Viserys was indeed going to cause trouble again! If the matter of sending troops was brought up at the wedding tomorrow, Drogo would definitely get angry. Not only might the alliance fall through, but it would also give the Lannister assassins an opportunity. "I'll talk to him, don't worry."
He turned and walked towards Viserys's room. As soon as he reached the door, he heard the sound of something being thrown inside. Pushing the door open, he saw Viserys smashing a ceramic vase to the ground, fragments scattered everywhere, his face full of rage.
"A bunch of barbarians! To make me wait so long!" Viserys's anger intensified when he saw Illyrio. "You've come at the right time. Tell Daenerys tomorrow to force Drogo to send troops at the wedding, otherwise I'll take her back to Pentos and never cooperate with the Dothraki again!"
"Your Highness, calm down!" Illyrio walked up to him, deliberately raising his voice, "Think about it, Drogo is the most powerful Khal of the Dothraki. He has a hundred thousand cavalry. As long as the alliance is successful, he will be your ally. If you force him to send troops at the wedding tomorrow, he will feel insulted. Not only will he not help you, but he will also kill us! At that time, the iron throne will be completely out of your reach!"
At the mention of the iron throne, Viserys's anger indeed subsided a little, and a hint of hesitation appeared in his eyes: "Then… what should I do? I can't just keep waiting, can I?"
"You won't have to wait too long." Illyrio softened his tone, "After the wedding, Drogo will take Daenerys back to the Khalasar and stay for half a month. During this half month, I will build a good relationship with Kohol and have him help persuade Drogo to send troops. You just need to wait for news in Pentos. Once Drogo's cavalry is ready, we can return to Westeros and reclaim the iron throne."
Viserys was silent for a moment, then finally nodded: "Alright, I'll listen to you. But if Drogo still doesn't send troops after half a month, I won't let him off!"
Illyrio breathed a sigh of relief—he had finally stabilized Viserys. He bent down to pick up the fragments on the ground, secretly calculating: Tomorrow, he must keep a close eye on Viserys and not let him speak carelessly at the wedding.
By the time he returned to his guest room, it was already late at night. Illyrio did not sleep, but sat at his desk, drawing the general layout of the Khalasar on paper—according to Illyrio's description, the Khalasar camp was circular, with Drogo's tent in the center, surrounded by the Blood Riders' tents, and the ordinary tribesmen's tents on the outermost ring. The wedding would be held in the central open space, where Daenerys and Drogo would stand to receive the blessings of the tribesmen.
"The assassins are most likely to hide in the ordinary tribesmen's tents and rush out during the chaos." Illyrio circled the location of the ordinary tribesmen's tents on the paper. "Tomorrow, I need to check these tents in advance to see if there are any strangers. Also, I need to have Kohol assign a few Blood Riders to guard Daenerys, forming a protective circle."
He folded the paper, put it into his inner pocket, and then felt the leather pouch containing the mare's milk wine—this was key to building trust with Kohol tomorrow. After doing all this, he finally lay on the bed and closed his eyes, but his mind was still racing, envisioning all the possible scenarios for tomorrow: From which direction would the assassins rush out? What weapons would they use? How could he respond to protect Daenerys?
The moon outside the window gradually set in the west. The manor was quiet, with only the occasional footsteps of guards. Illyrio knew that tomorrow would be a tough battle—if they won, Daenerys could safely marry, and Targaryen would gain Drogo's support; if they lost, they would all die by Lannister's assassination, and the revival of Targaryen would be utterly hopeless.
As dawn approached, Illyrio finally drifted off to sleep. In his dream, he saw Daenerys wearing Dothraki clothes, draped in the dragon-patterned shawl, standing beside Drogo, receiving the blessings of the Dothraki tribesmen; suddenly, several masked figures rushed out, daggers in hand, stabbing towards Daenerys; he shouted and rushed over, but couldn't run, only watching helplessly as the daggers approached Daenerys… "Daenerys!" Illyrio suddenly sat up from the bed, his clothes soaked with cold sweat. Outside the window, the sky was already turning a fish-belly white, and the servants in the manor began to get busy. A new day had arrived.
He took a deep breath, suppressed the fear from his dream, quickly got dressed, and picked up the mare's milk wine pouch and the paper with the layout drawn on it. Today, he must be on high alert to protect Daenerys and thwart the Lannister assassination plot.
Opening the door, Daenerys just came out of the opposite room, wearing Dothraki leather jerkin and trousers, with the dragon-patterned shawl draped over her. Although she looked a little unaccustomed, her eyes held determination. "Are you ready?"
"I'm ready." Illyrio smiled, "Let's go, to meet Drogo's Khalasar."