103 The sea lord and the horse lord

The sea lord and the horse lord

Theon POV

I could only see about ten thousand when the Dothraki arrived by our gates. The rest were slaves following behind them. Upon closer look, they looked quite old. Most were almost the same age as Ser Barristan or the Tattered Prince, with greying hair and wrinkles on their faces. Maybe one in ten was a younger man my age.

There was a tense, silent moment between us as neither moved to talk. My men were on the walls with raised bows, aiming at the Dothraki. They had their weapon drawn and waiting for their leader's orders. The Tattered Prince looked at me pleadingly, and after looking at my men and back at the Dothraki, I made my choice.

"Yunkai is no more," I said in Valyrian, standing before the Dothraki leader.

"Yunkai is no more," The Tattered Prince repeated in what sounded like Dothraki language.

"The walls stand. The pyramids are still tall," The Dothraki leader replied in Valyrian, indicating that he would speak with me. "To me, Yunkai still stands, and only you stand before it and me."

I looked at the Khal that was as old as Tattered Prince, hair completely white, with countless tiny bells weaved in it. From what I remember, the bells symbolize the victories they have achieved. As old as he was, I could tell he would be no easy opponent. The same went for the rest of their men. They looked quite organized, even disciplined.

"What do you wish to take from Yunkai?" I asked, with a smile, as I planned tactics about how I would stop them if they tried to do something foolish.

"Yunkai promised us many things," The Khal replied. "We came to take the things we were promised."

The Tattered Prince was about to intervene and speak, but I stopped him. I couldn't let anyone speak for me. The Dothraki didn't seem to be afraid of us, and as old as they looked, I couldn't help but think how strong they were to survive so long. It was hard to accept, but fighting against them would be at our disadvantage. But it didn't mean I would roll a red carpet for them, either.

"What Yunkai have promised you is now mine," I said, keeping my eyes locked with his. "And I have not promised you a thing. I have nothing to offer to someone I don't even know."

"Where are the Wise Masters?"

"Dead," I answered him simply, even though they were still tied up at the center of the city and left to dry out in the sun, but most of them would be dead, so I wasn't wrong. "The Wise Masters don't rule Yunkai anymore. I, King Theon Greyjoy of the Iron Islands, rule Yunkai now."

"Then I, Khal Motho, will warn you, King Theon Greyjoy, that I won't leave this city empty-handed after a long journey."

"You won't leave empty-handed; you will leave with your lives still intact," I replied, looking for the Tattered Prince to see if he recognized the name Motho.

"That will not be enough," Seeing how his horse was rearing to attack me, I could tell that Khal Motho shared his feelings with his horse. "We fear nobody. We fear nothing. So, we will take what we want, and if we have to pay for it with our lives, so be it."

"Hahaha," I couldn't help but laugh at his words. "There is a saying in my homeland. A warrior wears only the jewelry he takes off the corpses of enemies slain by his hand. Paying the iron price, it is called. I can see that you are warriors through and through. I respect it and will show my appreciation for you by offering you wine and meat. But if you wish to take gold from me, you will have to take it from my cold and stiff hands."

"Where are the Iron Islands you speak of?" The question surprised me.

"In the West, beyond the Narrow Sea and Westeros," I replied. "By the Sunset Sea, the farthest a man can go to the West."

"Men of West," Khal Motho said, but instead of ridicule, he sounded impressed. "As you recognize us as warriors, I can also recognize you as a warrior. We will accept your wine and meat, but we won't be eating for free, as we will offer you our slaves. It would be a fair trade."

"Then your men will have to drink as much as they weigh," Any fighting thoughts disappeared as I started liking the old man. "We have plenty of wine to offer, so don't be modest."

The Tattered Prince was about to collapse as Motho informed his men of my offer, and his Khalasar started cheering. I did the same and told my men that we should drink with the raiders of the east. Motho didn't seem to be a man who would attack us using underhanded means. I could recognize a warrior's pride in his clear eyes.

My men seemed relieved, too, as they cleared the way for the Dothraki. As much as they liked fighting, they were already too drunk from celebrating to fight with the Dothraki. They would rather return to drinking and celebrating. And as much as I wished to test my blade against Khal Motho, I couldn't find anything beneficial to me that could be accomplished by doing so.

"For a second, I thought you would not stand back for them," The Tattered Prince said with a sigh of relief.

"Me too," I replied as I watched Dothraki enter the city. "You should be thankful towards Khal Motho. It was him who decided not to fight me."

I could tell that Motho had assessed the situation and knew his losses would be too many to satisfy the thought of fighting me. But he couldn't lose his face before his Khalasar, so he readily accepted my offer. Khal Motho managed to grow old as a Dothraki. His age reflected his strength and intelligence. The fact that Motho could speak the Valyrian language already said a lot.

…

As the Dothraki entered Yunkai, there was a curious blend of celebration and tension. The Tattered Prince looked grateful and somewhat surprised by the turn of events. The Ironborn, initially wary, gradually began to see this not as a threat but as unexpected guests and drinking buddies. It didn't mean anything that they couldn't understand each other, as alcohol and their weapons did all the speaking.

In the grand hall of the biggest pyramid in Yunkai, Khal Motho and I shared a drink as Motho's bloodriders and most trusted men joined my Greycloaks and captains in celebrations. Few Dothraki spoke Valyrian so they could communicate with the few of my captains who cared to learn Valyrian. With the most beautiful women in the city serving them, there was nothing anyone could complain about.

"Interesting how fate works," Khal Motho said as he took slow sips of his wine. "We were on our way to join Yunkai to fight you, King Theon, yet instead, we are joined to celebrate your victory over Yunkai."

"With you here, it would be at least an interesting fight," I laughed with the Khal. "Those foolish Wise Masters could do nothing against me. Few tricks, and they were falling under my feet like insects they were."

"I always wondered what kind of people lived beyond the Black Salt Sea," Khal Motho said. "The ships I saw in the harbor seemed fearsome. Does everyone possess this kind of might in the West?"

"As in Essos, Westeros has different kinds of people," I replied, thinking of the North and the rest of the Kingdoms. "Iron Islands have similar customs to your people. We believe in our strength but rule the sea with our ships instead of dominating the land on horseback. You won't find a better warrior in the sea than us."

"What about others?"

"I can't speak for everyone, but I lived in the North for a long time. It was a brutal land; when winter came, the old man would leave their homes and never return, so the younger ones would have fewer mouths to feed. The men from the North are strong-willed men. You better never pick a fight with them, as they do not fear death. The rest of Westeros is a bunch of prideful, fat, and foolish men with too much gold and men at their hands. But you don't have to worry about them, for their time will soon end."

I finished my words with a statement I intended to see through it. It might have sounded too presumptuous coming from me, but Motho seemed interested in hearing it. Maybe he saw me as a foolish young man filled with desire and vigor. I might be a fool, but it didn't mean I couldn't accomplish my goals. Everything was already falling into my hands.

"Not much different than Essos," Mothos said as he finished another cup of wine. "The fat and greedy sit behind their walls. They don't even dare to fight back. Our mere presence makes them fall over themselves and present us with gifts. They are nothing but foolish men who were born lucky. Their demise by your hands doesn't surprise me. Too bad I will lose my gifts, though."

"Tell me, Khal Motho," I turned serious as I put down my cup and looked at the Khal. "Do you know of Queen of Dragons?"

"Drogo's Khaleesi," Motho muttered, not very happy about mentioning her. "She has denied the law. And now fashions herself as a Queen."

"A law?" I asked in disgust. "It is custom that enslaves weak women. But Daenerys Targaryen, Mother of Dragons, isn't a weak woman. So, she shall not follow that custom."

"You know her?" Motho asked, his jubilant expression gone now.

"I am a King, and she will be my Queen," I replied, ignoring Motho's not-so-happy expression.

"She belongs with the dosh khaleen," Motho seemed adamant about it. "Women don't have the strength to rule. She will die all alone."

"There, I disagree," I replied. "My sister could easily kill an old man like you."

"Hmph," Motho decided to ignore me instead.

The old Khal was a stubborn man, but he knew how to control himself. Any lesser man would have jumped me, telling me how wrong I was. But not Motho; he didn't agree with my words, but he saw me as someone who was only ignorant of the customs of this land. Or maybe he had mistaken me for a naïve child who had fallen over for the charm of a woman.

"Why not come to Meereen?" I asked, gaining Motho's attention once more. "Find out for yourself how weak the Mother of Dragons is. You don't have much to do anyway. Where will you go after leaving Yunkai? Back to Vaes Dothrak? By the time you leave for other cities, will you have any fight left in you?"

"What do you want of us?" Motho asked, suspicious of me.

"To my knowledge, not a single Dothraki crossed the Narrow Sea," I replied calmly and slowly. "Wouldn't you want to be the first to cross the poison waters? First, to conquer the fear the Dothraki harbored for the sea? First, to show the men of the West why they should fear your people?"

"Foolish man," Motho laughed at my suggestion. "We not simply fear the Black Salt Sea but despise it too. There is something deeply wrong with it. Who knows what horror it hides in its deepest waters? If our horses fear to drink from it, it means that it should not be entered. The poison water has taken more men than any army."

"Do your horses drink wine?" I asked, pouring another cup for Motho.

"They do not fear wine," Motho replied, accepting the cup.

"Yet, I would say that wine has taken more men down than any sea in this world," Motho took it as a joke, but I was dead serious. "We might have our differences, but I say fuck it. We might not agree with each other, and maybe we end up fighting each other, but now we shall drink as friends."

"Now you speak sense," Motho replied with his smile returned.

I would have given up so much to taste the wine I shared with Motho. I miss the feeling of getting drunk. Too bad I didn't have any poison with me to use as a substitute. I felt distance appearing between me and the others the more we drank. In the end, I was left alone sober. As one by one the men fell to the ground, not getting up.

They couldn't leave and had to continue drinking as their King and Khal were still drinking together. Some were eyeing the women around them but didn't want to leave their leaders. So, they had no choice but to drink until they collapsed. They were unlucky because Motho could handle his wine, and it didn't affect me.

A.N. As always, If you want more, up to seven advanced chapters, you can support me on pa treon. com \ ironwolf852. And if you have any requests for stories, I will only take them on my pa treon.