The Jhogosnai, like the Dothraki, were a savage nomadic people.
They shared the Dothraki's disdain for the sea and ships, living by herding and raiding the city-states of civilized lands to acquire iron and other resources.
Their society was organized into tribes similar to the Dothraki's Khalasar, led by chiefs akin to the Khal, and they lived in tents resembling yurts.
Their skin tones were also similar: the Jhogosnai had waxy yellow skin, while the Horsemen had bronze-yellow skin.
However, the Jhogosnai were physically inferior to the Dothraki. Both men and women habitually bound their faces starting at age two (a hint from George R.R. Martin about foot-binding?), resulting in elongated skulls, large heads, and narrow faces that appeared quite ugly.
Moreover, they were short and stocky, lacking the tall, robust frames and long, slender limbs of the Horsemen. Yet the Jhogosnai's mounts surpassed those of the Dothraki: while the Horsemen rode horses, the Jhogosnai rode ferocious zebras.
One group were Horsemen, the other Zebra People.
Still, compared to the Dothraki, the Jhogosnai possessed several customs that Daenerys found admirable.
"Respected guests, please tell my people how the great Jhogosnai maintain national unity," Daenerys said gently, gesturing toward Aggo and the dozen or so Horsemen warriors dining with them in the hall.
The Jhogosnai were pleased by Daenerys's subtle flattery and secretly delighted by her sincere desire to learn.
"I understand what you mean, Khaleesi," said one of the Jhogosnai, a middle-aged man. "Your Khalasars are often fragmented, which may eliminate the weak Khas. But the strength of a single warrior can never match the power of a united tribe."
The two Jhogosnai were of different ages: one middle-aged, the other with white hair and beard. The middle-aged man remained silent, while the elder spoke at length.
"Ultimately, the Dothraki lack a proper marriage system. Ordinary Horsemen have no wives or children, so they feel no blood ties to their Khalasar.
You must understand, blood is the strongest bond in the world.
Our tribes are sustained by kinship, and can remain intact for centuries, even millennia. The war chiefs, the Jahas, are not weaklings either. They are often chosen from the sons of the previous Jaha.
As long as a Jaha has enough wives, he will father enough sons. Among these many sons, all of superior lineage, it's always possible to select a powerful warrior."
Daenerys nodded in approval. "This system is excellent. We can learn from it."
This was the true purpose of her banquet.
She could have stated these ideas herself, but how could words compare to the impact of a living example?
Hearing the Mother of Dragons' praise, the old man grew even more animated, proudly declaring, "The Jaha are merely tribal leaders. Above them stands the Jahata, who command all the Jaha of Jugsnei. This unity allows us Jhogosnai to stand as one against any foe."
Seeming to notice the Horsemen's skeptical expressions, Daenerys quickly chimed in, "That's a truly remarkable system. I imagine Jugsnei must have produced many Jahata of epic heroic stature, right?"
Every nation has its epic heroes, and Daenerys didn't expect the old man to name a truly earth-shattering one.
She understood one thing deeply: nations with bloodline-based traditions invariably embellish their ancestors with grand poetic tales.
Even Stone Age savages, living by tooth and claw, would be transformed in their descendants' myths into divine beings capable of flying and moving mountains.
So, after asking her question, she took a sip of red wine and quietly waited for the sharp-headed old Jugsnei to begin his boastful tale.
The old Jugsnei seemed never to have been so excited. He gesticulated wildly as he intoned, "Ah, great Mother of Dragons, your eyes are truly like burning embers! Only the wise can perceive the wisdom of another."
"Undoubtedly, you possess the same wisdom as our Jhogosnai ancestors."
"You flatter me, you flatter me. I'm nowhere near as wise as them, not at all."
*My thick skin is truly no match for yours,* Daenerys thought, maintaining a modest smile while inwardly grumbling.
"Our ancestors reduced the Kingdom of Niger to a single city, a stronghold of necromancers and torturers. If not for the fact that nine-tenths of the city lies hidden underground, we would have taken it long ago."
As if to enhance the grandeur of this achievement, the elder lowered his voice and added, "Don't underestimate necromancers, and don't dismiss them as mere tricksters. Do you know of the Long Night that shrouded the world thousands of years ago?"
"The White Walkers?" Jorah exclaimed.
"Heh heh heh, I know of the White Walkers. Those living dead are the necromancers' masterpiece. It's said the Long Night itself was summoned by the Bloodstone Emperor, the Son of Heaven of Yi Land. Yet even such a powerful necromantic nation was nearly wiped out by our ancestors," the elder boasted proudly.
"Wow... that's... truly incredible," Daenerys chimed in, playing along while inwardly skeptical.
Yi Land lies across several continents and seas from Westeros. Why didn't the White Walkers bother the Easterners, and instead fixate on the common folk of the West?
Never mind the how—how did they travel so far?
Did they take a shortcut through the Arctic Circle?
Are the northernmost reaches of the lands beyond the Wall connected to Yi Land?
This is too sci-fi, not fantastical at all! This is supposed to be a fantasy world!
"We also annihilated the Heirkolon Descendant Kingdom," the stout old man continued.
"Forgive my ignorance, but why such a peculiar name?" Daenerys asked, curious.
*Why not just call it the Hael Brothers Kingdom?*
"Ah, even as enemies, we Jhogosnai must acknowledge Haelkron's greatness," the old man sighed. He then asked, "Khaleesi, do you know of the Hero's Red Sword?"
Daenerys pondered for a moment before recalling the fairy tale. "You mean Lightbringer, don't you?"
Jorah shuddered. "Eight thousand years ago, the Long Night descended. The White Walkers plunged the entire world into endless darkness and cold, and the snow nearly erased the Seven Kingdoms from the map.
At humanity's most desperate hour, a hero emerged—Azor Ahai!
Wielding the Hero's Red Sword, filled with light and warmth, he defeated the darkness and the cold, and brought light and warmth back to the world."
"That's right," the old man nodded, sighing. "Azor Ahai is Haelkron. The stories of the Long Night's end, across every people, tell the same tale of a similar hero.
Yet his name varies. In the West, you call him Azor Ahai. In the East, the Descendants of Haelkron call him Haelkron the Hero. The Yi Landers call him Yi Tar. In the Kingdom of Niger, he is known as Nivlion. And among the Shadowhunters, he is Edric the Shadowhunter.
Though he died long ago in that legendary age of heroes, the prophecy of his return has been passed down in the East for five thousand years: After the Long Summer, the stars will weep blood, and a cold darkness will engulf the world. In that terrifying moment, a warrior will draw a burning sword from the flames—a blade called Lightbringer, the Hero's Red Sword. Whoever wields this sword will be Azor Ahai reborn, and he will banish the darkness."
"Such a great hero... it's no wonder his descendants named their kingdom the Heirkolon Descendant Kingdom."
The old man continued proudly, his voice booming, "But we, the Jhogosnai, annihilated the ancient Heirkolon Descendant Kingdom. Now only three fortress cities remain—Shamilliana, Kayakayanaya, and Bayasabhad—the last bastions of the Descendants of Hailkron.
When I was young, I followed Jahata onto the Steel Road and participated in a three-year campaign against Kayakayanaya. I personally scaled its walls twice."
This time, Daenerys truly looked at the "Horsemen next door with new respect." Compared to them, the Dothraki, who merely stole the hero statues from other people's homes, had almost nothing to boast about.
*They haven't even destroyed a single one of the Nine Free Cities—how pathetic!*
But this was merely an appetizer. The glorious history of the Jhogosnai continued.
"The Kingdom of Niger and the Heirkolon Descendant Kingdom were mere small states in the east. The true hegemon was the Golden Celestial Empire of Yi Land."
"The Golden Celestial Empire?" Daenerys's teeth ached. *What a name.*
"Ah, that's no exaggeration," the old man waved his hand, assuming Daenerys doubted the caliber of the Yi Land Son of Heaven and thought they didn't deserve the title "Golden Celestial Empire." He explained with solemnity, "The Golden Celestial Empire was the Land of a Thousand Gods and a Hundred Kings, ruled by a single Son of Heaven.
Back then, the Valyrians were still herding sheep in the wilderness!"
"The Son of Heaven was undoubtedly the most powerful ruler in the known world at the time. His armies were unimaginably vast, his wealth rivaled that of the Valyrian Empire at its peak, and his palace dwarfed the Andals' King's Landing. Even the floor of his bedroom was cast in gold."
"Have you ever been to King's Landing, my lord?" Ser Jorah asked, his voice flat.
King's Landing, the capital of the Seven Kingdoms, was smaller than the Son of Heaven's palace. As a "false Andal, true First Man," Jorah was clearly displeased.
The old Zebra People glanced at him and said calmly, "I still vividly remember the stench of fish and dung mixed together in King's Landing's Fishmonger's Square."
*Not simple,* Daenerys thought. *This old Zebra People has actually been to King's Landing, tens of thousands of miles away.*
Daenerys immediately steered the conversation back. "Did the valiant Jhogosnai even manage to overthrow the Golden Celestial Empire?"
"Not quite," the old man shook his head, a mix of resignation and pride in his voice. "For millennia, we repeatedly raided the northern border of Yi Land, but we only managed to force the Son of Heaven to keep moving his capital further south.
"There was once a young and courageous ruler in Yi Land, Emperor Luo Bao. He governed with diligence and reformed the court, nearly restoring Yi Land to the glory of the Golden Celestial Empire.
"In his era, even we proud Jhogosnai were forced to pay tribute and acknowledge his suzerainty."
"Regrettably, Emperor Luobao believed the Jhogosnai feared strength but not virtue. He thought that while they submitted today, they would rebel tomorrow."
Daenerys nodded. It seemed that Emperor Luobao was indeed a shrewd man.
The old man admitted, "He's right. The Golden Celestial Empire is powerful. When we can't defeat them, we must submit. But when the Empire weakens, we'd be fools not to plunder."
"Uh..."
The old Jhogosnai was so blunt, Daenerys didn't know what to say.
"What's wrong with that?" the old man shouted, slamming down his wine cup. "When the Yi Land people were weak, didn't they send tribute and women to our Jahata to buy peace? And when they grew strong, didn't they slaughter my people?
The strong bullying the weak is natural. It's against the natural order for the weak to bully the strong."
"Did Emperor Luobao bully you?" Jorah asked.
"No, he didn't want to bully us. He wanted to eliminate the threat completely, to exterminate the entire Jhogosnai race!" The old man slapped his thigh in fury. "That's just too much!"
Daenerys sighed inwardly, pitying the ambitious emperor. Since the old Jhogosnai was still here, shouting and cursing, it meant Luobao was neither Emperor Wu of Han nor Emperor Taizong of Tang.
(End of Chapter)