Jon
They remained in the valley to bury the death and to find rest. Despite his exhaustion Jon was unable to sleep. He expected to feel relieved, but he only felt numb.
Later Naati joined him to recount his accomplishments in battle, but contrary to Jon the young Lhazareen appeared almost exhilarated by his experience. He also asked Jon about his own experiences, most of it was nothing more than a blurred memory.
"Did you know that the Dothraki take the heads of their enemies?" Naati asked and snapped Jon out of his state of sullen silence.
Jon also wondered why he cared what the Dothraki horselords did with their enemies' heads.
"What do they do with them?"
"They keep them," Naati explained and chuckled."To prove prove their prowess in battle."
The idea of keeping the head of enemies as a keepsake made Jon wince.
"What is pleasant about keeping rotting heads?" he asked the young man facing him over the campfire."Where I come from people are either hanged or get their heads cut off and if they die in battle we bury them properly."
"The Sunset Kingdoms are different," Naati protested and rolled his eyes."But I agree. It is rather unpractical, but I wish I could take one of those heads home to show them to my mother."
Jon was startled by his idea. Why would his mother take comfort from looking at a cut-off Dothraki head?"
"You seem to disagree," Naati added and looked disappointed by his lack of agreement."If you knew what the Dothraki did to my mother you would understand."
Jon was hesitant, but somehow he sensed that Naati wanted him to ask for further details."What did they do?"
"They raped her…three of them…over and over again. She barely escaped her captors and fled to Volantis where I was born. That is what I meant when I said I want to take revenge," Naati explained and rose back to his feet.
Jon was shocked and nodded his head in silence.
What was there more to say?
No word from his lips would make it possible to banish away the pain of the young Lhazareen, though Jon doubted his revenge will ever bring him peace.
Yet when he recalled his proud smile Jon had his doubts. Maybe it is me who is wrong?
"The Lhazareen boy will serve his people well," a familiar rough voice added after Naati had left.
It was Kaho the Dothraki and Jon was stunned into silence by his sudden appearance.
"Last time we spoke you were still able to speak," the Dothraki remarked and seemed amused."Did the battle steal your voice?"
"Of course not," Jon replied embarrassedly."I was just surprised."
"I can see that," the Dothraki replied and settled down.
Jon was unsure how to behave, but tried to be polite.
"What did you mean with your remark about Naati?" he asked in an attempt to find a topic to talk about.
"The Lhazareen cares about his people's plight. I am sure one day he will return here and continue the fight long after we left."
The words of the Dothraki rang true. They won a battle and might even win another in the near future, but Jon doubted it will be enough to bring peace to the Lhazareen. Once they served their time here they will return back to Volantis and then the people will be on their own again.
"Do you think your people will take revenge will come back to revenge on the Lhazareen?" Jon asked, though he already knew the answer.
The Dothraki jerked his head."Nothing is sure. The riders we killed belonged to Khal Ogo. I recall their face painting. I met him once when I was a young boy and when was still a khalakka. He is a fierce fighter, but his father didn't leave him a large khalasar to command. It is one of the reasons he comes here. The sheepmen are easy prey, but this time it was him who was humiliated. Many of those who survived this battle will cut off their braids and this will weaken his position further. It would not surprise me if one of the other Khals or one of his own men will challenge him to take his position."
"Challenge?" Jon asked and tried to hide his obvious curiosity."So if you want to take the position of a Khal all you have to do is to fight him?"
"Does that surprise you?" the Dothraki asked in a surprised tone."Is it so different in the Sunset Kingdoms? Do men not kill each other for power?"
"You are quite right. The high lords wage their ways for power, but it is not as easy as you think. Usually you need the right kind of blood to take power. Like Khal Ogo who once was his father's …khalakka…I assume you mean his heir."
The Dothraki wrinkled his brow in confusion."Blood is good, but every man among the Dothraki may take power no matter who birthed him. My people respect the birthright of a khalakka , but if he proves weak they will kill him just the same."
Hearing the Dothraki's words Jon had to think about his blood father and he man that killed him. In the eyes of a Dothraki it would have mattered little that his father was the rightful heir, but only the fact that he lost his battle against Robert Baratheon. It was both a fascinating and frightening idea to only respect strength without caring about blood.
"You are so silent," Kaho remarked in an almost gentle tone."Do the actions of my people scare you?"
"They don't scare me," Jon replied and chuckled."As I said…my people are not much different. They also kill each other for power."
Kaho grinned and his eyes darted to Jon's sword.
"Do all men in the Sunset Kingdoms possess a sword like yours?" he asked and Jon spotted the curiosity shining in his eyes."What a strange material is it made of?"
Jon was hesitant, but the man in front of him was always courteous to him.
Carefully he unsheathed the blade and handed it to the Dothraki who touched the blade almost with a lover's touch.
"Sharp!" Kaho exclaimed and liked like a little boy when his finger graced over the tip of the blade."Very sharp!"
"In the Sunset Kingdoms we call it Valyrian Steel," he explained."My Uncle owns a similar sword, but nearly as big as a man."
Kaho seemed awed by his words.
"Then your Uncle has to be a very powerful man," he replied and his eyes wandered slowly over the rippled pattern of the metal."How can this material be made?"
Jon shrugged his shoulders."Nobody knows the answer. Only the Valyrians knew how to forge this steel, though I once read that the swords were apparently forged with dragon fire and blood magic."
"Dragons? Blood magic?" Kaho asked and Jon saw a glimpse of fear apparent in the man's face.
"Maybe, but nobody knows for sure," Jon admitted."This sword was given to me by my grand-uncle. It once belonged to several people who shared my blood and he gave it to me because I am one of his last blood."
"That explains your sadness," Kaho remarked and handed him the black back."How did your blood die?"
Jon had no intention to give him the whole truth, but for some odd reason he felt compelled to tell him at least a little.
"My father took the woman of another man and this started a war. In the end my father was slain by this man's hands and he butchered nearly all of my father's family…my father's first wife…and both my half-siblings. You see…my mother was only his second wife and the only reason I wasn't butchered in my crib was because nobody knew about my existence. My mother died in childbirth and I grew up in my Uncle's home who protected me by naming me his son. His wife always disliked my presence, but that was not the reason I left. I found out the truth and I left because the man who killed my father is still alive and would put my Uncle's family to the sword if he ever found out the truth. I also know that two of my relatives are here in Essos. Once I have enough money and served my years I want to seek them out. This sword here is also part of their legacy."
Kaho eyed Jon closely and rubbed his beard. Then he smiled.
"Then we are both exiles, eh?"
Jon was not surprised by his words as he always assumed that the man was some sort of an exile.
"Seems so," Jon remarked."Though I wonder why a capable warrior like you had to leave his people."
Both sadness and anger showed in the man's eyes.
"It was not a defeat in battle that turned me into an exile. I usually don't share my tale of woe, but you gave me yours," he replied and leaned on his knees."I was the third son of a Khal that was slain many years ago. My father was a hard man and my mother a peaceful creature hailing from the city we are protecting. She was the kindest creature on earth and he killed her. His main wife…his kahleesi accused my mother of infidelity and naturally my father believed the word of his favourite wife. He killed her in front of my eyes, but I knew her to be innocent. The truth is that the kahleesi regarded me a danger for her son and wanted me out of the way. She hoped my father would forsake me after hearing about my mother's infidelity, but even her little ploy wasn't able to accomplish that. I was a good warrior in own right and shared a great resemblance to him. Nobody could deny that I was his son, but that wasn't enough for me. I was full of rage and in the end I killed my father's khaleesi. I told you that it is tolerated to kill one's kin for power, but right of harming or even killing a khaleesi belongs solely to her husband. I dishonoured the laws of my people and had to leave. Over the years I served many men, but this here is something I chose to do. It is not for gold that I came here, but to seek redemption by aiding my mother's people."
Jon had listened patiently, but there was a question burning on his lips.
"But are you never tired of serving people like Mero?" Jon asked."You are much more capable than him. If you remained in your khalasar you might have been a powerful Khal."
The Dothraki flashed him a bitter smile."Even if I tried going back, no upright man among my people would ever follow me."
"I wasn't talking about returning to your people. I am speaking about the Second Sons. Most men here like and respect you," Jon replied vaguely, hoping his words weren't too daring.
Surprisingly the Dothraki started to laugh and patted his knees.
"You are to smart for your own good, my boy."
…