All translations are at the end of this chapter


The path to a violent end is paved with blood and loss. Armies are meant to be bought, sold to the highest bidder in exchange for goods. And in Essos, I've learned people and objects are one and the same.

After riding for day, we came across a village large enough to plunder. It takes mere minutes for the Dothraki to overpower the villagers, and I walk angrily beside my sister. Being Vaes Dothrak, I thought I was becoming a part of a people. But watching them in action… I can't believe I had blinded myself from the truth, which is that they are no better than the lords of the Free Cities. The Dothraki are just more honest about their behavior.

Walking through the chaos, we watch a group of men pull down the people's statues to their gods. "What did they do?" My sister asks, staring at the beaten men and scared women.

"Haesh rakhi davrae zafraan. Khal Drogo vazhoe mora azzfrokea, majin azzafroki vazhi kishaan ma hoshor, ma tasokh, ma tawakof." Rakharo explains, pride in his voice as we pass moaning women and yelling Dothraki.

"I thought the Dothraki didn't believe in money." Dany turns to Jorah, but I only glare at her.

"Gold to hire ships, Princess, ships to sail to Westeros."

We pass children tied to posts, and I cover my mouth to hide a sob. I lower it and stop Dany in her tracks. "Do you see the price of your war?" I questions, horrified by the lengths she's willing to go. "Here is the difference between you and I, sister. I don't value my wants over the lives of others. Ask yourself - would it be worth it, sitting on the Iron Throne and knowing it was because innocent people's lives were ruined and ended in the process?" Before she can answer I turn around, storming back out the way we came. Davvi follows, she had no choice as I had grabbed her wrist.

"Jae, Jae, this is how it's always been."

"Yes." I turn to face her, once I am by Caraxes. "But this village would have been spared."

"Another would have taken its place." She reminds me. "You cannot stop the actions of the Dothraki, Princess. Others have tried." Davvi places a hand on my cheek and brings our heads together, kissing my forehead. "Do not lose hope for your sister. She has a kind heart."

I sigh. "How awful. I can't believe you're right. A mere handmaid." We both laugh, and she strokes Caraxes.

"It is nice. To be the smarter friend."

"Careful, now, that you don't grow too insolent." We laugh once more, but the cheer is suspended when Irri runs up to us, scared and out of breath.

"Khalakki, Khalakki! Yeri inavva!" She yells, panting. Whatever quarrel I have with Dany is placed on hold as I rush after the handmaid with Davvi, all the way to the village's temple. There I find an angered Dothraki - Mago, I believe, arguing intensely with his Khal. Drogo is seated on a throne of some kind, body parts of villagers next to him. I grab Daenerys's arm, my sister cowering into me.

"Anha vazhok khadoes yeroon virsalat." He declares, glaring up at Mago. "Anha ochomok yeraan kijinosi." He stands abruptly and walks up to his insubordinate, the man's arakh meeting the flesh between his shoulder and his chest, but Khal Drogo does not look uncomfortable. Instead he continues walking forward, ignoring the curved metal. Davvi starts to pull us back, Jorah thrusting his arm protectively in front of his Khaleesi.

"Inte vadakie tihoa." Khal Drogo warns, forcing Mago to move backwards. "Ma khewo afilki vi gadimaan." He removes the shoulder from the blade and practically dances under and around Mago's swings, walking up to us and pulling the daggers from his belt. "Eyel varthasoe she ilekaan rikhoya arrekaan…" He proceeds to turn and drop the blades to the ground, shocking my sister. "Vekha vosi yeroon vosma tolorro!" He runs at Mago and doges his swing, twisting so Mago's back is to the crowd.

"Atte yer eth addrivi anna!" Mago declares.

But Khal Drogo only becomes smug. "Jin anha ray et." He twists Mago's weapon so it's in his own hand and slices the Dothraki's throat, ripping his tongue out. With a savage grunt he throws it onto the pile of body parts and sits down, clearly winded.

My sister releases me and rushes before her husband, landing on her knees, between his own. "Shekh ma shieraki anni zisa."

Khal Drogo shakes his head, smiling at his wife. "Me zioshi… zhey jalan atthirari anni."

My sister turns to Qotho, Drogo's bloodrider. "Finni koalaki?"

The bloodrider remains silent, but Khal Drogo gets her attention. "Jini osto afisi." He wipes his hand over the wound, blood smearing across his chest in doing so. It doesn't look too bad, but it would be smart to cover it.

"Anha laz rhelak dothrakes vezhvena ha zisoshaan mae." A haggard women with thick, curly black hair announces from the grouping of women.

Qotho looks insulted by her offer. "Khal zigenee vo rellay ha zafroon fini govi oqet."

My sister glares at the man. "Me anni. Me vastoe." I smile at my sister's words - perhaps she listened, and at the very least saved the women from a worse fate.

The woman steps forward, the Dothraki guard allowing her. "Thank you, silver lady." She says in the common tongue, walking forwards.

"Who are you?" Dany asks.

The woman is stopped by Qotho, who holds an arakh to her head. "I am named Mirri Maz Duur. I was the godswife of this temple."

Qotho spits on the ground. "Maegi."

Mirri looks irritated by his superstition, but continue. "My mother was godswife here before me. She taught me how to make healing smokes and ointments. All men are of one flock, so my people believe. The great shephard sent me to earth to heal his…" Qotho backhands her, and she stumbles with a gasp. I rush up to catch her.

Qotho just smirks. "Ase sekke. Ase maegi izzi char."

"Lamb or lion." Mirri finishes her sentence, and I check her cheek. "Thank you, dear one." She turns to my sister. "His wound must be washed and sewn or it will fester."

My sister looks up at her husband, concern laced in her words. "Azhas maan affisat zis yeri, shekh ma shieraki anni… me azzisa anna jin tihat meyer qiyae."

Drogo looks up and over at Mirri before sighing in defeat, a slave to his wife's needs. She smiles and removes herself from me, walking towards the couple. Dany stands so Mirri can have a better look at the wound. But I stop paying attention to the trio, and instead look up at the tense Qotho. One Dothraki has rebelled against his Khal. Could a bloodrider do the same?


Haesh rakhi davrae zafraan. Khal Drogo vazhoe mora azzfrokea, majin azzafroki vazhi kishaan ma hoshor, ma tasokh, ma tawakof. - Lamb men make good slaves. Khal Drogo will make a gift of them to the slavers, and the slavers will give us gold, and silk, and steel.

Khalakki, Khalakki! Yeri inavva! - Princess, Princess! Your sister!

Anha vazhok khadoes yeroon virsalat. Anha ochomok yeraan kijinosi. - I will not have your body burned. I will not give you that honour.

Inte vadakie tihoa. - The beetles will feed on your eyes.

Ma khewo afilki vi gadimaan. - The worms will crawl through your lungs.

Eyel varthasoe she ilekaan rikhoya arrekaan… vekha vosi yeroon vosma tolorro! - The rain will fall on your rotting skin… until nothing is left of you but bones!

Atte yer eth addrivi anna! - First you have to kill me!

Jin anha ray et. - I already have.

Shekh ma shieraki anni zisa. - My sun and stars is hurt.

Me zioshi… zhey jalan atthirari anni. - A scratch… moon of my life.

Finni koalaki? - Where are the healers?

Jini osto afisi. - This is the bite of a fly.

Anha laz rhelak dothrakes vezhvena ha zisoshaan mae. - I can help the great rider with his cut.

Khal zigenee vo rellay ha zafroon fini govi oqet. - The Khal needs no help from slaves who lie with sheep.

Me anni. Me vastoe. - She is mine. Let her speak.

Maegi. - Witch.

Ase sekke. Ase maegi izzi char. - Too many words. A witch's words are poison.

Azhas maan affisat zis yeri, shekh ma shieraki anni… me azzisa anna jin tihat meyer qiyae. - Let her clean your wound, my sun and stars… it makes me hurt to see you bleed.