As the sky grew dark, Dany said to Aggo, “Detain Odo’s men, give the Lamb Men slaves some food, and let them leave on their own.” Aggo cast a wary glance at the cowering Lamb Men slaves and said, “Khaleesi, the Lamb Men hate us.
Now that they know our location, they might bring a large force to encircle and wipe us out.
The Lamb Men are cowardly but not stupid.
They know our true strength and won’t pass up this golden opportunity.” Aggo was young, but his mind was unexpectedly meticulous.
Dany gave him a surprised look and explained, “How far can they walk at night?
It would be a miracle if they made it back to the banks of the Lhazar River by tomorrow afternoon, but we will definitely be gone by tomorrow morning.” “It would be easier to just kill them,” Aggo muttered as he walked away.
The blood-red sun sank below the horizon.
The Lamb Men were astonished to be told they were free to leave.
After cowering and testing the waters, they fled in a swarm.
But the cremation did not begin immediately.
A group of horse people widened their almond-shaped eyes, searching the night sky for an auspicious sign.
Whenever a horselord died, his steed would be killed to accompany him in death.
It signified that he would ride his magnificent horse proudly into the Night Lands.
When their bodies were cremated beneath the open sky, the Khal would ride forth on a blazing steed of fire, leaping into the heavens to become a star.
The brighter the corpse burned, the more brilliantly his star would shine in the darkness.
Therefore, before lighting the fire, they had to find the star that represented their Khal—it could not be an everyday star, but an anomalous celestial body that had just appeared today, since the Khal was being buried today.
This was a bit troublesome.
How could a strange star be found so easily?
The horse people sat on the ground, searching and searching the sky, making Dany feel awkward.
If she had lived in this world for over a decade, she could have just picked an inconspicuous star to fool them.
But she hadn’t been here long, and her predecessor didn’t understand astrology either—at least not as well as nomadic tribes who had nothing better to do than look up at the stars every day.
Yeah, she couldn’t fool the horse people.
“Can every Khal find his own star?” she asked an elderly horseman.
“Of course.
The great Drogo is the twelfth Khal I have served.
I saw with my own eyes the previous eleven Khals ride fiery steeds to become shining stars, including the Khal’s father.” Seeing the Khaleesi speak to him personally, the old man grew so excited that his dark, weathered face flushed as if he were drunk.
*Twelve?
How many generations have you lived through?* While Dany silently complained, she also secretly lamented that the heroes on the grass sea were as numerous as grains of sand, yet they fell like shooting stars.
“How long does it usually take?” she asked again.
“Khaleesi, it is still early.
We must wait until at least midnight,” the old man laughed.
His lips, like dried orange peel, parted to reveal a mouthful of broken, rotting teeth, yet his ugly old face somehow conveyed a sense of kindness.
“Once, the sun came up just as we found the star and lit the firewood.
We waited all night!” Dany finally understood.
This was a test of endurance.
By the time everyone was exhausted and their horses weary, dizzy with hunger, their vision would blur and their minds would wander.
They might even mistake the moon for the Khal’s special star.
“Found it!
Over there!” an excited voice called out.
It was Rakharo.
Dany looked in the direction he pointed and, to her surprise, spotted a red comet low in the eastern sky.
It was the red of blood, the red of fire, like a dragon breathing flames.
This was definitely an anomalous star.
One could hardly ask for a stronger omen.
“Heh, the twelfth,” the old man chuckled.
“Pour the oil,” Dany ordered loudly.
Jars of scented oil, castor oil, and vegetable oil were poured over Drogo’s body.
Haggo and Qotho were also drenched.
The oil soaked through the silk blankets, branches, and bundles of hay, seeping into the firewood below and filling the air with a sweet fragrance.
“Bind the maegi and throw her onto the pyre,” Dany said next.
Mirri Maz Duur had been hiding in the crowd, silently watching the funeral pyre being built.
She had thought the matter was completely settled when the infant’s head was brought back by Jhaqo.
Although it was a bit regrettable that she couldn’t exact her revenge personally, seeing that tiny head had basically satisfied her.
But she never expected the silver-haired woman to suddenly order her to be burned alive.
“No, no, no, Silver Lady, Khaleesi, please listen to me…” The maegi dodged Aggo as he tried to grab her, struggling madly and screaming, “I saved Lady Lilith!
You said you would reward me!
I even sang the birthing song for you and helped you safely deliver a healthy little prince!
You can’t do this to me, it makes no sense, it’s madness…” she wailed.
The maegi was no match for Aggo.
Within a few words, she was pinned to the sandy ground, unable to move.
“Bring my dragon eggs as well,” Dany instructed her handmaids.
The underlying tone in her voice sent them running.
Jorah, his face pale, stepped forward and grabbed her arm.
“Princess, Drogo has no need for dragon eggs in the Night Lands.
It would be better to take them to Asshai and sell them.
Selling just one would be enough to buy a large ship and return to the Free Cities.
The wealth from selling all three would last you a lifetime.” “Do I lack money?” Dany asked, amused.
Jorah could not laugh.
He choked on his words, gripping her arm even tighter, as if trying to snatch his princess back from the God of Death.
“Princess, I know Prince Rhaego’s death was a massive blow to you.
Even if you force yourself to hide your sorrow from others, I know your heart is drowning in tears.
This heavy suffering is about to crush your spine, but you still have—” His face flushed red, and he almost shouted words of love that overstepped the bounds of a knight and his liege.
The next moment, startled by the wide, almond-shaped eyes staring at him from all around, he said dejectedly, “But you are only fourteen.
You have countless years ahead of you, and you can have countless little princes and princesses.” “Rest assured, Ser.
Do not forget that I have the blood of the true dragon,” Dany said, awkwardly pulling her tightly gripped arm away.
She lowered her voice, speaking with pointed meaning, “Last time, I thought Viserys was like me, that he would never die from molten gold.
It turns out…
he was no true dragon!” Jorah released Dany in a daze.
As he tried to guess the meaning behind her words, he watched her take the three dragon eggs handed to her by the handmaids.
Supported by Aggo and Rakharo, she climbed step by step up Drogo’s funeral pyre.
Dany waved the Dothraki warriors away.
She placed the white dragon egg on Drogo’s chest, using his hands to secure it.
She then lay down beside Drogo, cradling the black dragon egg, and placed the green dragon egg between them.
“So you are mad.” The bound maegi watched Dany complete her preparations and let out a bizarre laugh.
“Endless pain has driven you mad!
Hahaha, so that’s it.
You should have accepted my offer before—life for life, death for death.
If blood magic had resurrected that butcher, you could have at least saved your husband’s life!
Hahaha, regretting it now, aren’t you?
Hahaha…” “I’ll kill you first.” Qotho, standing nearby, flew into a rage.
He spun around, ready to hack the wildly laughing Lhazareen priestess to death.
“Stop.
I want her burned alive,” Dany called out, halting Qotho.
The rebellious bloodrider was unusually obedient this time.
Not only did he refrain from insulting Dany, but the look in his eyes held a respect he had never shown before.
Was he moved by her ‘great’ act of self-sacrifice?
Or did he believe that since they were returning to the Night Lands together, his Khal would still choose her as his Khaleesi?
Dany turned her head and said to the maegi, “Have you forgotten?
In your temple, when you first treated the Khal’s wounds, Cohollo said that if the Khal died, you would die.
I am fulfilling that promise.
Whether the Khal’s death had anything to do with you or not, he is dead, and so you must die.” “Hahaha, she is right!
The Khal is dead, and the maegi who treated his wounds must die.” On the other side, Haggo let out a loud laugh and slit his own throat with a single stroke of his blade.
His final, slurred words were, “We…
we should all go down…
to accompany the Khal…” *Squelch—* From Qotho’s side immediately came the sickening sound of blood spraying from a severed throat.
“They are all gone,” Dany said, looking at the red comet at the edge of the sky, her tone incredibly complex.
“Now it is your turn.
When Drogo fell from his horse, I decided on this ending for you.
Do not deny it.
You killed him, and you tried to sacrifice his son to demons…
What’s even more cruel is that you used the hands of a wife and a mother to accomplish it all.” “Heh, it turns out you are smarter than I thought.” At this point, the priestess no longer denied it.
She smiled triumphantly, “But your son is still dead.
That is enough.
I have completed my revenge.” “Yes, you wanted revenge.
That is not wrong,” Dany acknowledged her reasoning; the priestess had every right to kill the thugs who invaded her home.
“But how did you repay the kindness I showed in saving you?” “Kindness?” Dany’s words seemed to ignite her pent-up rage.
The Lhazareen priestess spat and fired off a barrage of questions.
“I was dragged from the temple of the god I worship by the horse people, with a pack of men waiting to violate me.
It was not the normal way a man and woman join.
They took me from behind, like dogs mating.
It was not the normal way a man and woman join.
When you rode past, the fourth man was inside me…
How did you save me?
I watched my god’s temple burn, the very place where I had healed countless good men and women—back then, I was a pure healer, a devout priestess, not some maegi or blood witch.
My home was burned to the ground by the horse people.
Piles of severed heads littered the streets.
In those piles was the baker who made my bread, and the little boy I had fought so hard to cure of the fatal eye fever…
I can still hear the riders cracking their whips, driving the children away as they wept to the heavens.
Tell me, what exactly did you save?” Dany remained silent for a moment before answering her.
“I did everything I could.
Eroeh and those women…
I saved your life.” A Khaleesi was not a Khal, and even a Khal could not change the Dothraki traditions that ‘everyone knew’.
The original Daenerys could absolutely say to anyone: *I have a clear conscience.* “My life?” Mirri smiled coldly.
“Look at yourself.
When everything beautiful you possess is gone, what meaning does life have?” *Hmm, it seems everyone thinks Dany is grieving to death, and her expressionless face is just numbness from despair, as if her life has lost all meaning.* “If it has no meaning, why were you begging me earlier?” Dany mocked.
“You will never hear me scream,” Mirri replied.