The next morning, the rain stopped. Fenya woke up early and had her subordinates pack their things. They decided to set off while the weather was cool and the rain had just stopped, as waiting for the sun to come out and evaporate the ground's moisture would make it especially muggy.
Lynd rode his horse at the back of the caravan, his warhorses following closely, seemingly having already recognized Lynd's mount as the Horse King.
In the ruins of this village, only over a hundred pale, bloodless corpses were piled up on both sides of the road.
To make the caravan move faster, with Lynd's permission, Fenya added two Dothraki warhorses to each carriage. Although this made handling a bit difficult, it significantly increased their speed. What was originally expected to be the next resting point by nightfall was reached near noon.
Here, they encountered a fleeing Dothraki cavalry unit, numbering about three hundred.
Although these Dothraki had more or less injuries and were in retreat, upon seeing the caravan and the warhorses following it, they still chose to attack. Their ingrained raiding nature prevented them from easily letting go of such a juicy target.
However, they did not know that this 'juicy target' in their eyes was a deadly poison.
As these Dothraki charged towards the caravan, Lynd did not use his bow to snipe. Instead, he directly gripped his long spear and charged out of the horse formation, meeting the Dothraki head-on.
Seeing an armored knight charging towards them, the Dothraki, who revered fighting bare-chested, all showed expressions of disdain, as if looking at a coward. They let out strange cries, brandishing their scimitars over their heads.
And as they raised their scimitars to slash at Lynd, who had charged into their horse formation, the long spear in Lynd's hand was like an attacking viper. Before their attacks could land, it precisely and swiftly pierced their throats.
When Lynd's warhorse passed through the Dothraki horse formation, all the Dothraki within the long spear's attack range lay on the ground, numbering a good forty to fifty.
The remaining Dothraki were terrified. Their leader had just died by Lynd's hand. They all didn't know what to do, and there was no one to command them. One by one, they could only let their warhorses carry them as they continued to charge towards the caravan.
At this moment, Lynd's warhorse had already changed direction, charging into the horse formation from behind at an even faster speed, mercilessly harvesting these Dothraki.
When these Dothraki reached the caravan's carriages, their numbers had dwindled to less than a hundred. Fenya had long since prepared for battle, and as the Dothraki approached, with a command, everyone in the caravan drew their bows and fired arrows at the completely panicked Dothraki.
However, their archery skills were truly poor; dozens of arrows only hit four or five people.
Nevertheless, this was enough. Their cruel nature and predatory instincts could no longer sustain the Dothraki's courage. Fear had filled their minds. They did not attack the convoy again but instead circled in front of it and fled into the distance.
Unfortunately, it was too late for them to escape now. Lynd directly drew his bow and shot down these Dothraki one by one from behind, ending this small battle.
Having had the experience from the previous night, after all the Dothraki were dealt with, Fenya ordered her subordinates to collect the spoils of war and retrieve Lynd's arrows. The warhorses were also incorporated into the horse herd behind them.
"Onstein, the situation seems a bit grim. Looking at their injuries, they appear to be fresh wounds, not yet healed," Fenya said, her expression worried, after examining a corpse. "The force that defeated these Dothraki might be ahead. What should we do now?"
Lynd calmly asked, "Is it still possible for us to take a detour now?"
Fenya shook her head.
Lynd then asked, "Then can we turn back now and avoid them?"
Fenya thought for a moment this time, then still shook her head.
Lynd shrugged and said, "It seems we have no choice but to continue forward."
Fenya forced a bitter smile and nodded. In truth, she knew from the start that no matter what she chose, she couldn't avoid the danger. Asking Lynd was merely to gain some confidence from him, so her heart wouldn't be overly panicked by the impending danger.
After collecting the spoils, the group continued their journey. After about an hour, they crossed a small hill and arrived outside another abandoned village.
Compared to the previous abandoned village, the situation in this one was much better. Most of the houses were still well-preserved, and the environment here was also much better than the previous village. A small stream extending from a nearby mountain flowed past the village, forming a small lake.
Nourished by the lake water, the surrounding land was very fertile. The surrounding farmlands were covered with crops that had turned into wild wheat, mixed with various weeds.
Now, such a quiet, abandoned village was occupied by a complete Dothraki Khal.
From the corpses piled around, it was not difficult to see that a major battle had just taken place here, and the current Khal was the victor of this battle.
The previous vanquished had been incorporated into this Khals. They could be easily distinguished from the crowd by the distinctive feature of their shaved heads. And precisely because it had absorbed a Khals, the population of this Dothraki Khal had grown significantly, roughly estimated to be tens of thousands.
Among these tens of thousands of people, the vast majority were cavalry, while the rest were slaves plundered from various places. The enormous tribal camp not only occupied the entire village but also encompassed the surrounding farmlands and the lake. Noise and chaos filled the entire camp.
Perhaps because of the rapid increase in population, this Khals appeared very bloated. If they were to set off immediately, there would definitely be problems. The Khal of this Khals obviously realized this, which is why he chose to encamp where they were, organizing their spoils, and not sending anyone to pursue the fleeing enemies.
When Lynd and Fenya's group appeared in the Dothraki's sight, a troop of cavalry charged out from the camp, heading towards them.
Seeing these Dothraki cavalry, Fenya felt a little nervous, but quickly calmed down because the number of these cavalry was not large, and they had not drawn their weapons.
The cavalry soon arrived in front of the group. The leading Dothraki first looked at the horse herd behind the group, a hint of surprise on his face, for he could tell that these warhorses were all Dothraki warhorses, and from several different Khals.
Then his gaze fell upon Lynd in the horse herd. He looked at Lynd, who was fully armored, with disdain in his eyes. However, his gaze immediately shifted to the mount beneath Lynd.
Although Lynd's mount was the most ordinary-looking of Moon Maiden's many offspring, this ordinariness was only relative. The fact that this mount could make those masterless Dothraki warhorses voluntarily regard it as the Horse King and follow it demonstrated the excellence of this warhorse.
"You are not worthy of owning it," the Dothraki said, pointing at Lynd.
While learning High Valyrian, Lynd also learned Dothraki from Baelon, so he naturally understood what the Dothraki said.
He did not retort, but directly took his bow from the saddle, drew two arrows, then nocked one onto the string and shot it casually. Immediately after, he swiftly shot the other arrow, and the second arrow instantly caught up to the first, splitting it in half from the fletching in mid-air.
Throughout the entire process, Lynd did not turn his head to look at the arrows he shot; it was entirely a blind shot.
Seeing this scene, these Dothraki also exclaimed in unison. The disdain in the eyes of the person who had previously disdained Lynd disappeared. He pointed at Lynd again and said, "You are worthy of owning it."
After speaking, he turned to Fenya and asked in a deep voice, "Merchants from Myr?"
"Yes," Fenya knew how to deal with these Dothraki. She did not show any fawning or ingratiating expression but answered concisely.
The Dothraki was very satisfied with Fenya's demeanor. He nodded and said, "Follow me."
With that, the Dothraki led the group towards the large tent located near the lake.
Along the way, one could observe the wild and barbaric customs of the Dothraki, such as openly enjoying their spoils right by the roadside without needing to conceal themselves, or drawing blades at the slightest disagreement, fighting to the death, even if they were comrades-in-arms moments before.
The faces of the numerous slaves, now spoils of war, were filled with numb, blank expressions. To them, such things had become commonplace; they were simply passed from one master to another.
Some Dothraki were sorting these slaves. Women and children were grouped together and taken to the camp. Young men were put into another group and assigned to different slave groups, while all the elderly were herded together and taken to the edge of the camp. They seemed to understand what fate awaited them, their eyes filled with fear, yet they showed no thought of resistance, like lambs awaiting slaughter.
As Lynd passed by these slaves, he glanced meaningfully at these old slaves who were about to be executed.
Soon, Lynd and his group arrived outside the large tent in the camp. The Dothraki who led them there dismounted and entered the tent. After a while, he came out, pointed at Fenya and Lynd, and motioned for them to enter.
Fenya and Lynd exchanged glances, then dismounted. Lynd did not bring his long spear but took two ordinary knight's longswords from his saddle and hung them at his waist before walking into the tent with a nervous Fenya.
Inside the tent, a feast was underway. Food was roasting over the fire, and Dothraki warriors sat all around, each holding a spoil of war, enjoying themselves without restraint. In the open space in the center of the tent lay two corpses. From their attire, they also belonged to the current Khal. They must have been killed by their own kin in a duel to entertain the feast.
For the Dothraki, if a victory feast lacked the embellishment of blood, then the feast was a failure. The current situation was just right.
On the main seat of the tent, a huge beast hide was spread out. It was unclear what kind of beast the hide came from, but from its sharp claws, it was clearly a carnivorous beast.
A tall Dothraki sat on this hide, drinking heavily from a goblet made from an enemy's skull.
This Dothraki was very young, perhaps only in his twenties. He was very tall; Lynd felt his height was similar to Nameria's. His body was also extremely robust and muscular, feeling like a leopard. His bronze-colored skin covered his strong physique. His thick beard was braided into plaits, adorned with some gem pendants. His dark hair was also oiled and braided into a long plait that hung from his shoulder, down his chest, and to the ground, with golden and copper bells at the end that jingled pleasantly with his movements.
As Lynd observed the people inside the tent, the tribal Khal seated at the head of the tent was also observing Lynd. He did not, like other Dothraki, show disdain upon seeing Lynd fully armored. Instead, the moment Lynd entered the tent, he sat up straight and stared intently at Lynd, as if Lynd were a dangerous beast.
In fact, it was true. The Dothraki Khal felt a strong sense of danger the moment he saw Lynd, a feeling he had never experienced before.
At this moment, the Dothraki who led them in spoke a few quiet words in front of the Khal, then pointed at Lynd. The Khal nodded, then gestured to his subordinates.
"My master, Drogo, the undefeated steed who gallops across the Dothraki Sea," the Dothraki introduced the Khal beside him.
Upon hearing the name Drogo, both Lynd and Fenya showed expressions of surprise. Fenya was surprised because she had heard of Drogo's great reputation. True to his title of 'undefeated steed,' Drogo had indeed never suffered a defeat. From the day he appeared on the Dothraki Sea, in just a few years, he had successively absorbed seven Khals, with tens of thousands of Dothraki warriors under his command, not counting the number of auxiliary soldiers and slaves.
It was said that the Magisters of Pentos, to prevent Drogo from raiding Pentos, even planned to specially gift Drogo a massive palace, and were willing to offer large amounts of gold and silver treasures each month to appease him.
Because Drogo had always been active in the north and rarely came south, Fenya was very surprised and astonished to hear his name.
As for Lynd's surprise, it was entirely because he hadn't expected to meet this legendary Dothraki Horse King so soon. He had originally thought about trying to meet Drogo when he went to Pentos, but he hadn't expected it to happen earlier.
While the two were momentarily stunned, the Dothraki also explained the purpose of bringing them there.
It turned out that Drogo had been in the Disputed Lands for several days. In these past few days, he had eliminated three Khals and absorbed their men and horses, acquiring a large amount of spoils.
However, these spoils were too numerous and had become a burden to the army. He had originally intended to send people to transport these spoils to Myr for sale, but now that a merchant from Myr had arrived, there was no need for him to go to extra trouble; he could simply sell them directly to Fenya.
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