Jorah caught up, and before his horse had even come to a steady halt, he spoke up: “Khal, my apologies!” Drogo did not look at him.
He stared at Viserys, his teeth grinding audibly, the rage in his eyes nearly bursting forth.
He could have killed him right then and there.
It would only take one stroke; the fool wouldn’t even be able to dodge it, and it would certainly be satisfying.
But he couldn’t.
Daenerys’s loathing for Viserys was not yet enough.
If he killed her brother, she wouldn’t applaud; she would only remember that he had killed her last living relative.
Even if he endured it now, it would eventually surface one day and become a debt to be settled.
Drogo took a deep breath, pushing that fire down.
Viserys was still talking.
He did not know he had just walked the edge of the grave, and his voice grew even louder: “The people of the Seven Kingdoms are still waiting for me!
They are busy sewing the dragon banners, praying for me to lead the army across the sea and liberate them.” Drogo calmed himself slightly.
“The common folk pray for good weather, healthy children, and a bountiful harvest.” “As long as they can live in peace and contentment, they do not care how the lords and nobles play their game of thrones.” Drogo shrugged.
“It is just that the common folk have never gotten their wish.” Upon hearing Drogo’s words, Viserys’s face twisted, his features scrunching together.
He cursed viciously: “This is treason!
When I sit upon the Iron Throne, you will be the first whose head I chop off.” He was truly mad, speaking without restraint.
If it weren’t for the fact that the Dothraki could not understand what he was saying, he would have already been hacked to pieces.
No one had ever insulted their Khal like this.
Listening to Viserys’s mad ravings, even though he knew Viserys would die and that this man would not live long, knowing it was one thing.
Hearing him curse like that with his own ears still made his blood boil.
He was trembling with rage.
That fire surged up from his chest, impossible to suppress.
He grabbed his bow and notched an arrow.
“No!” Daenerys cried out in terror.
But the arrow had already left the string, grazing past Viserys’s cheek and piercing through his ear.
Blood splattered, and Viserys tumbled from his horse, crashing to the ground, clutching the side of his head and howling like a stuck pig.
Drogo lowered his bow.
If his hand had been just a fraction off, that arrow would have pierced through Viserys’s eye socket.
The caravan continued forward, hooves passing by Viserys, the kicked-up dust settling on his face, yet no one looked down at him.
He rolled on the ground, blood oozing out from between his fingers, staining his silver hair red, his screams growing shriller with each passing moment.
Only now did he realize that Drogo was not Daenerys, who would meekly accept his bad temper; he merely cried out in pain and said nothing else.
Daenerys rode on her horse, her face pale, but she did not look back.
Drogo rode in front; this time he did not want to kill him, and he could not kill him.
He was thinking that perhaps he could use methods like those of the Bastard of Bolton against Theon Greyjoy to break his pride and turn him into an obedient dog.
If necessary, he wouldn’t mind turning him into an Unsullied.
Daenerys rode on her horse, walking quietly for a while.
She carefully chewed over what Drogo had just said.
The common folk did not care who sat on the Iron Throne; whether it was a dragon or a usurper, they only wanted good weather, healthy children, and a bountiful harvest.
This was completely different from what Magister Illyrio had said.
Illyrio claimed the people of the Seven Kingdoms were longing for the dragon to return, longing for Viserys to lead an army across the sea.
She looked up and saw Jorah Mormont riding his horse behind her to the side.
“Ser Jorah.” Jorah urged his horse forward to ride alongside her.
“Is what Khal Drogo said true?” she asked.
“Do the people of the Seven Kingdoms really not care who is king?”
Maybe it’s not a big deal now… maybe it will be later.
“And If you’re enjoying it, drop a Power Stone for me!”