Chapter 177: Khal Moro, All Forces Attack
Essos, the Disputed Lands
"Lue lue lue..."
Amid bursts of strange cries, a large group of Dothraki riders shouted as they charged toward Beetle Castle, the last major stronghold inland in the Disputed Lands.
After receiving an invitation from Illyrio Mopatis, Khal Moro, who had always lived by raiding, directly led his khalasar of nearly fifty thousand people into the Disputed Lands.
A khalasar is the name of a Dothraki tribe. Although Khal Moro's followers sounded numerous, this included slaves and the families of his warriors.
Although Khal Moro's army was not overwhelming in number, with only about ten thousand actual fighters, this force brought no small amount of trouble to Tyrion Lannister, the Imp.
It was the constant harassment and attacks from these Dothraki that made Tyrion feel unprecedented pressure, like a heavy blow to the head, making him realize the gravity of the situation.
In Tyrion's heart, these Dothraki were originally thought to be similar to mountain clansmen. He believed they were merely a group of scattered raiders and not worth worrying about.
However, it was precisely this deep-rooted prejudice that led to his tactical errors, ultimately causing him to suffer a great loss before these seemingly insignificant enemies.
Although the situation was not optimistic, fortunately, Beetle Castle was one of the few castles in the Disputed Lands with solid stone walls, and its defensive fortifications were relatively complete.
As long as he could hold this castle, Tyrion would have a chance to wait for the arrival of reinforcements.
During the previous process of reorganizing the Disputed Lands, Tyrion had reinforced the castles along the coastline and established a beacon system to quickly transmit information in case of emergency.
Now, these preparations were paying off. The message had already been transmitted through the beacons. Tyrion only needed to wait patiently, believing that before long, reinforcements transferred from those coastal castles would arrive to relieve him.
"What on earth are those fellows in the intelligence department doing? How did such a large army manage to sneak up on us?"
Pippin and Merry were Tyrion's guards in the Disputed Lands, while Frodo and Sam were the commanders.
Hearing Merry's complaint, Tyrion quickly spoke up to comfort him:
"The customs and habits of these Dothraki are completely different from ours. Gathering information about them isn't something that can be done simply by sending spies. Even if someone truly became a slave among them, they would likely receive very little information."
"So, what should we do now?"
Compared to the somewhat impulsive Merry, Frodo directly asked what everyone was thinking.
There were actually not many troops in the Disputed Lands right now. The Nine Free Cities were not places founded on military might; they usually relied on small standing armies and mercenaries for war.
After the Disputed Lands were taken by Aegon, he also transferred three legions of the Chainbreakers there. Most of these three legions were selected from freed slaves, and among them, members of the Sons of Aegon made up the majority.
Although these soldiers of the Chainbreakers had high morale, they still appeared somewhat powerless when facing groups like the Dothraki or the Golden Company. After all, the gap between professionals and novices was considerable.
Moreover, the people of these three legions were now scattered across twelve agricultural castles in the Disputed Lands. No matter how capable Tyrion was, it was impossible to gather them all at once.
"I have already sent letters to our brothers in the navy. As long as we continue to hold out, they can launch an attack on the enemy from the south."
Just then, the wooden door of the hall was pushed open, and an alchemist wearing a gray robe ran in.
After taking a scroll delivered by eagle-mail from the man's hand, Tyrion's brow furrowed instantly.
"Lord Tyrion! Has something happened?"
The observant Sam quickly noticed something was wrong, so he directly questioned Tyrion.
"Whew..."
After letting out a long breath, Tyrion handed over the letter in his hand. When Sam received the letter, his expression also changed.
"A man calling himself Aegon Targaryen is leading the Golden Company to attack Myr, and Pentos and Braavos have also announced their support for him!"
"Those despicable bastards! This is an insult to His Grace Aegon. I must kill them."
Upon hearing this news, Pippin immediately cursed. In his eyes, Aegon Targaryen was the true and rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms and the legitimate owner of the Iron Throne.
"Prince Rhaegar and the Dornish princess's son died in King's Landing long ago. My cold-hearted father personally delivered the bodies to that Usurper. This fellow is one hundred percent a fake."
Tyrion was naturally not surprised by this news, and now he finally understood why Aegon had placed him on the continent of Essos before leaving.
(My respected king! You think too highly of me. Can I really help you settle all these matters?)
With a complicated heart, Tyrion thought even more. He now had to deal not only with the Dothraki but also with those Free Cities from the north.
(Is this the only way?)
Facing such a desperate situation, Tyrion's heart began to beat like a drum.
Three days later, outside Beetle Castle, Khal Moro's camp
"You mean to say that you plan to surrender, but your subordinates do not agree, so you have run out here to surrender to us, wanting us to enter the city and eliminate those people?"
Khal Moro was a dark-skinned, sturdy Dothraki man. These nomadic warriors, who never wore armor in battle, were extremely ferocious in combat. Skilled in archery and horsemanship, they took pleasure in killing and spent their entire lives on horseback.
Even the god they worshipped was called the Great Stallion. Perhaps it was for this reason that they seemed to possess divine favor in battle, bringing the entire western portion of the vast continent of Essos under their influence.
"Neigh..."
After Tyrion finished speaking and it was conveyed by a slave translator, a white warhorse beside Khal Moro suddenly neighed.
"Clang, clang..."
Seeing the reaction of the white warhorse, several bloodriders beside Khal Moro immediately drew their Dothraki arakhs.
"What are you trying to do?"
Seeing the reaction of these barbarians, Tyrion instinctively took a step back while casting his gaze toward the translator.
"Even the horse doesn't believe what you say. Do you think we will believe you?"
Khal Moro's voice carried a hint of playfulness, like a hrakkar toying with its prey.
The short, dark-skinned female slave adopted Khal Moro's tone when translating the sentence.
"I don't believe that. What if it wanted to express excitement and happiness? Your Great Stallion is a powerful and brave existence, and I believe you are as well. Besides, I am just a useless dwarf. If I really lied to you, you can simply kill me then."
Recalling the customs of the Dothraki, Tyrion spoke of another possibility.
The customs of these Dothraki were very strange. They slept beside their horses and ate much of the same food as their mounts. In short, they trusted horses more than people.
(I just wonder if these fellows would go after mares when they can't find women?)
Although the people around him were watching him like predators eyeing prey, Tyrion still speculated maliciously.
During the previous siege battles, Tyrion had used poisons prepared by the alchemists to create venomous bladder bombs, causing severe losses to these Dothraki and their slave army.
Because of this, they had been attacking Beetle Castle relentlessly during this period.
To execute this plan, Tyrion had been feigning weakness these past few days, repeatedly making it appear as though the walls were about to be breached, which further stimulated Khal Moro's desire to capture the castle.
"The words of the Halfman are truly interesting. You are the first to dare speak to us like this. Then let us wait and see. I need to discuss this with my kos."
A ko was a minor leader under a khal, somewhat similar to a commander of a thousand or ten thousand men. Kos and bloodriders were the weapons and shields of a Dothraki khal, with one side responsible for offense and the other for defense.
When carrying out military plans, these men also served as advisers. After receiving this answer, Tyrion was taken away to be held while awaiting Khal Moro's decision.
After entering his tent, Tyrion called over the slave translator who could speak the Common Tongue.
"Beautiful lady, where are you from?"
The petite, dark-skinned female slave looked very cute, only about a head taller than Tyrion. Based on Tyrion's vast experience with women, this young girl was likely only fifteen or sixteen years old.
"My name is Namei. I am a Lysene, a slave taken from Volantis by Khal Moro."
Only then did Tyrion notice that this female slave named Namei actually had a tattoo resembling a teardrop at the corner of her eye.
To execute this plan, Tyrion had been feigning weakness these past few days, repeatedly making it appear as though the walls were about to be breached, which further stimulated Khal Moro's desire to capture the castle.
"Namei, can you do me a favor?"
As Tyrion spoke, he habitually handed over a gold coin.
"No, I cannot take it. If you truly have a way to defeat these Dothraki, my lord, then please give your orders! We have all heard the name of Aegon Targaryen, Lord of the Chainbreakers. We all long for freedom. As long as it is something I can do, I will certainly do it."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
If you like the story please give it some power stones and reviews. And if you want to read 40+ advance chapters or just want to support me please join my patreon at [email protected]/Translatingfanfics