The brown cowhide door curtain of the yurt lifted, revealing a woman with a protruding belly, supported by two Horseman girls. A cloying scent of gardenia perfume and urine filled the air.
Daenerys froze at the sight.
Instead of the Dothraki painted leather vest, she wore a light, lace-trimmed dress from Myr, its pale yellow hue making her skin appear even fairer. Her silver hair cascaded over her shoulders, and her eyes were a hazy violet.
If not for the memory in her mind, she might have thought she was seeing another descendant of the Targaryen bloodline.
Jon Arryn's dying cry of "the blood is strong" had hinted at King Robert Baratheon's tragic cuckoldry. This was because people of the same lineage often shared similar physical traits: the Baratheons' black hair, the Tullys' auburn locks, the Lannisters' golden locks, and the Targaryens' almost translucent silver-gold hair.
Yet, silver hair and violet eyes were actually the primary markers of Valyrians. Four centuries ago, when Valyria was destroyed by volcanic eruption and its ancient dragon civilization collapsed, the bloodline with silver hair and violet eyes began to spread across the continent of Essos.
It wasn't surprising to encounter a silver-haired, purple-eyed woman at the Horse King's Kalasar.
"So it's the Khaleesi."
Unlike the petite and slender Daenerys, this woman had a tall, imposing frame, with a large bust and hips, and a broad, square face—the very picture of a Western beauty. She was also older than Daenerys, approaching thirty.
The woman's eyes held a strange mix of mockery, pity, jealousy, triumph, and malice that Daenerys found deeply unsettling. Frowning, she asked, "Are you Lady Lilith? Jhaqo's wife?"
"Heh, perhaps I'll be the Khaleesi myself before long," Lilith replied, her eyebrows arching into a half-smile.
After Khal Drogo's death, his Kalasar would choose a new Khal, and the Khal's wife would become the Khaleesi. In truth, the title of Khaleesi wasn't particularly valuable among the Dothraki. Excluding the Kalasars of the plains, Vaes Dothrak alone housed dozens, even hundreds, of widows of Khals—the Dosh Khaleen.
Just a few days earlier, Drogo had arranged for a group of horse warriors to escort two Khaleesi to Vaes Dothrak: one from the Ogo father and son he had slain, and another from the Kalasar of the Lame Leg King.
The Khas Warriors in Daenerys's retinue weren't the sharpest minds. They failed to recognize the venomous curse hidden in Lilith's words, especially since she spoke in Valyrian, a language the Horsemen barely understood.
Had they understood, they would have either whipped her across the face or shot an arrow through her belly.
Ser Jorah, however, narrowed his eyes and said coldly, "I've never heard of Jhaqo taking a wife. Even Khal Drogo had many women, but only Princess Daenerys became his Khaleesi."
He emphasized the word "Princess," subtly highlighting her importance.
Lilith's expression shifted. As if struck by a sudden thought, she began to tremble with rage, her thick lips tightening into a thin, venomous line.
After a long pause, she stammered in Dothraki to Daenerys, "Khaleesi, do you intend to violate the glorious traditions of the great Dothraki and arbitrarily seize the spoils of war from other warriors?"
As previously mentioned, the original Daenerys had been exceptionally kind and brave. Unable to bear the Dothraki's brutal treatment of captured women, she had forcibly rescued them from the warriors.
The rescued women showed her little gratitude, while the Dothraki, robbed of their "property," hated her to the bone.
Stealing a warrior's "spoils of war" was a grave violation of Dothraki tradition.
"It's just a goose," Daenerys said, awkwardly unfastening a silver medallion from her waist and tossing it to the ground. "You cannot refuse the Khaleesi's gift in return."
The large white goose that had just escaped the fat cook was now impaled through its long neck by Quo's arrow. The arrow had pierced through the neck, sinking ten centimeters into the muddy ground. The goose let out a faint, mournful honk, its snow-white feathers, now stained with blood, fluttering weakly.
Daenerys pointed at the goose on the ground. "It belongs to me now."
The Dothraki not only lacked marital bonds, but also—well, never mind finance—they didn't even have currency.
Without a medium of exchange, there was no trade. Whatever they needed, they either stole or received as gifts from other peoples and city-states. When a hundred thousand Kalasar soldiers descended upon a city, not a single Essosi city dared refuse to offer gifts.
Though the Horsemen had plundered the entire continent, they weren't without precious metals like gold and silver. They forged these metals into medallion-shaped tokens, stringing them together to form belts worn around their waists.
This is how Daenerys conducted trade at the time, exchanging gifts as a form of primitive commerce.
For example, Daenerys herself was given by her brother Viserys to Khal Drogo, the most powerful Khal of the Dothraki Sea, with the mediation of Governor Illyrio of Pentos.
(Dothraki Sea: A vast grassland on the eastern continent of Essos, facing the continent of Westeros across the sea. In summer, the grass waves roll like the ocean's waves, and it is the birthplace of the powerful and primitive Dothraki people.)
Strictly speaking, Daenerys was sold to Khal Drogo like a slave.
According to Dothraki tradition, when Viserys gave a gift to Drogo, the Khal had to reciprocate with a gift of equal value: ten thousand Dothraki roaring warriors, or Drogo leading his Kalasar to sweep through Westeros and help the Targaryen family restore their kingdom.
In other words, he was to help Viserys be crowned king.
But the barbaric Dothraki had a very bad habit: you give me a gift, and I'll give you one back, but when I give it and how I give it is entirely up to me.
Viserys was even more desperate to reclaim his throne than Murong Fu in *Eightfold Heavenly Dragon*. Seeing his sister's belly swell and her pregnancy nearing its end, Drogo not only failed to send him soldiers but showed no intention of personally aiding his cause.
Like a deadbeat owing money to a loan shark, Viserys began harassing Drogo relentlessly.
He splashed paint on his home, stole and sold his property, made harassing phone calls, threatened the safety of his family, and stood outside his door to curse and beat him.
While the world of *Ice and Fire* had no paint or telephones, Viserys managed to replicate nearly all these actions through similar means.
He beat and insulted Drogo's wife—his own sister—and publicly berated Drogo for breaking his word. (In other words, for taking advantage of his own sister.) Since Drogo didn't speak Dothraki, Viserys cursed in the common tongue of Westeros. Drogo couldn't understand, and others, respecting the status of Khaleesi Daenerys, didn't translate for him.
The minor incident of stealing dragon eggs to sell for money is barely worth mentioning. When Daenerys heard about it, she even offered to give him her three dragon eggs.
What was even more outrageous was that Viserys brought a weapon into a Dothraki gathering place, similar to a "White Tiger Hall." While Drogo was dining with several Khals, Viserys pointed his sword at Daenerys's pregnant belly in front of the crowd and threatened Drogo: "If you don't help me reclaim my throne, I'll stab your wife and son."
Unfortunately, Viserys had the ruthlessness of a loan shark, but none of a gangster's connections or gang power. Drogo was no timid, ordinary deadbeat—in fact, he never intended to be one. It was simply the Dothraki way: they roamed the Dothraki Sea with the changing seasons, returning to Vaes Dothrak each year to have the Dosh Khaleen (a council of priestesses and wise women) divine the next year's fortune.
Viserys was doomed. Drogo's golden-medallion-strung belt was tossed into a cauldron and melted down into molten gold.
*You want a crown, do you?*
Molten gold was poured directly onto his head, his skull nearly melting away. The sight was truly tragic.
The Dothraki "gift trade" was this brutal and absurd. Faced with the Khaleesi's silver medal, Lilith couldn't refuse. The white goose was now Daenerys's.
Before leaving the Jhakho Tribe, Daenerys halted her small mare, placed her hand on her hip, and turned to glare at the seething Lilith. "You've been in Drogo's Kalasar for quite some time now, haven't you? Since we're talking about tradition, you should know better. No Dothraki Khaleesi has ever been unable to ride, not even when pregnant."
With that, she trotted off on her little silver horse, her hooves clattering on the ground.
Every Dothraki owned a horse and was expected to ride. When Daenerys and Lilith became Drogo's Khaleesi, their first duty wasn't to learn the Horseman's tongue, but to master life in the saddle.
The vast Kalasar certainly had carriages, but these were not for normal people, let alone for 'nobles.' In Dothraki society, only eunuchs, cripples, pregnant women, and the infirm or very young rode in carriages.
Even after nearly ten months of pregnancy, Daenerys still rode her horse. Khal Drogo, his wound festering and his mind clouded by dark sorcery, still clung instinctively to his mount.
The higher one's status, the less one could leave the back of a horse.
The first time Daenerys saw the Dothraki Sea, she was captivated by the endless, wave-like grasslands. She ordered her Kas tribe to halt for rest, but Viserys, unable to tolerate being given orders—his 'household' officially registered under Daenerys's Kas tribe, as she had brought him along as a burden—awakened his "Wrath of the Sleeping Dragon." He prepared to whip his sister, just as he had done countless times over the years, to vent his frustration.
*(PS: Wrath of the Sleeping Dragon—Viserys, who considered himself a true dragon, often used this phrase in his anger. Ah, a beggar prince of a fallen dynasty, his only outlet was his younger sister. Daenerys had long served as Viserys's punching bag and pressure valve.)*
Though Daenerys had been sold to Drogo like chattel, she immediately gained her own Kas tribe after marriage. How could they allow their Khaleesi to be beaten?
On one occasion, after Daenerys stripped Viserys of his right to ride, the Dothraki who saw him trudging back to Kalasar mockingly nicknamed him "Lame Leg King"—*Leemar Ka'o*.
The next day, Khal Drogo suggested that Viserys ride in a carriage. The fool happily agreed, thinking Drogo was apologizing for Daenerys's "rudeness."
Instead, Viserys earned another insulting nickname: "Carriage King"—*Ragat Ka'o*.
This demonstrated the profound discrimination faced by those unable to ride in Kalasar.
Looking at the silver medallion lying in the mud, then at Daenerys, who rode away with a triumphant smirk, Lilith's full lips nearly drew blood.
"Prepare a horse for me before Kalasar breaks camp tomorrow—a silver mare, just like that bitch," she snarled at the slave girl beside her.