Inside the tent there was only a pool of blood.
There was no trace left of the bird caretaker, except for that dark, thick mirror that had not yet finished cooling. The metallic smell mixed with cheap incense, creating a heavy, almost unbreathable atmosphere.
In Khal Kerse's tent, the flickering firelight made his features—already harsh by nature—seem carved from shadow. His eyes remained fixed on the entrance, but his mind was very far from there.
The matter of the wine merchant had been resolved.
That of the bird seller as well.
But there was another problem that did not bleed so easily.
Jorah Mormont.
Kerse narrowed his eyes.
As a spy for the Iron Throne, Jorah undoubtedly knew about the assassination plan in advance. It was not an assumption, but an uncomfortable certainty. In the original story, the bear had redeemed his betrayal through love, saving Daenerys at the last moment and breaking forever with Westeros.
But this world no longer followed that script exactly.
He had not stopped Viserys.
He had not warned Daenerys.
And, worse still, he had shown an unsettling eagerness to drink the wine himself.
That was not loyalty.
It was poorly contained ambition.
Kerse planted his fist against the table.
Jorah looked at Daenerys in the wrong way. Not like a sworn knight, but like a man beginning to convince himself that he could occupy a place that did not belong to him. Perhaps he even thought that, in time, he could replace him.
That thought was dangerous.
And yet…
Kerse knew what Jorah was capable of on the battlefield. He also knew that his loyalty, once fully given, was fierce and absolute. A warrior like that was not easily found. A counselor hardened by exile and defeat was even rarer.
Eliminating him now would be simple.
But losing him could cost dearly in the future.
Doubt settled in his chest like a thorn.
Finally, he raised his hand.
"Molegro," he ordered, "bring me ambitious men. Men who wish to rise."
When the warriors gathered before his tent, Kerse wasted no time.
"I want you to bring me Lynesse Hightower," he said firmly. "The favorite lover of Tregar Ormollen, the merchant prince of Lys."
A murmur ran through the group.
One of the warriors, unable to restrain himself, spoke:
"I fear Prince Ormollen will not be willing to give up the woman he loves, khal."
Kerse let out a low laugh, heavy with disdain.
He slowly turned toward the man.
"Who do you think I am?"
The warrior swallowed.
Kerse took a step forward.
"I am the most powerful khal of the Great Grass Sea. The one chosen by the god Thor Horse-Head. The man who decides who trades… and who is ruined."
His voice turned icy.
"Tell that prince this: if he does not hand over Lynesse, no goods will enter or leave Lys without paying a price he cannot afford."
There were no further objections.
Days later, the khalasar departed Vaes Dothrak like a dark tide.
They advanced southeast, crossing the vast, endless grasslands. The sound of thousands of hooves striking the earth spread like constant thunder.
Khal Kerse rode upon his majestic black horse, upright and imposing.
At his side rode three figures: his eldest son, far too large for his age, and his two wives—each bearing a different expression, but both aware that the world was changing.
In the rear, two guards carried spears topped with human heads.
One belonged to the wine seller.
The other, to the bird seller.
Silent warnings, visible to all.
Kerse's eyes swept over his warriors one by one. In his chest burned a vast, almost unbearable ambition. It was not conquest alone that he desired.
It was dominion.
His first destination was not Meereen.
It was Lhazar.
The land of the lamb men.
Shepherds and farmers, weak, clinging to the soil and their flocks. People accustomed to bowing their heads to plunder and praying to survive.
Kerse did not want to repeat Khal Drogo's history.
He did not want ashes.
He wanted submission.
Lhazar would be the first example.
The first land to learn that kneeling was not the end, but the beginning of a new way to survive.
If the Dothraki were going to conquer the world, they first had to learn how to rule it.