KAZMA PART 3

The lush, spiky grass fields, the rich, humid air, and the smell of sweat. All of those things were smells that Lord Kazma hated the most. Being a man born and raised in cold weather, the humid air made him feel weak, and the smell of sweat reminded him of the war, minus the stench of stale blood and the taste of iron on his lips.

And then there were the grass fields. There was no place such as this in the Highlands. It was mountain terrain back home, coiled with rolling green hills, cold weather, and fresh air. Gods, just imagining it made Kazma's stomach cringe with homesickness.

The only semblance Kazma had of his home was his men. Who were all still drunk from the night before. He was used to having to hunt down his men in a sea of bodies, but he grew irritated after a while. So, indeed, he sent Alyona to fetch them, which worked better than he thought. In a matter of five minutes, the rest of his men came scamping up to him at attention. Their faces were flush with drunken bashfulness and frightfulness from having to have woken up with Alyona drooling over them.

Kazma cursed under the protection of the Highlander language, his crude words going unnoticed by all except his men. All of whom were side-eyeing him as they strolled by.

"You sound stressed." The young Khaleesi said as she rode up beside him.

Kazma gave her an arched brow. "You knew what I was saying?"

She gave him a hint of a smile. A little sheepish and good-natured. "No, but…I know you enough. You tend to speak in your mother tongue when you're stressed or…if you don't want anyone to hear you."

A slightly thoughtful look surfaced on Kazma's hardened face before simmering again. "Very perceptive of you, but yes… you're right. But it's not something for you to be concerned about. It's just my ramblings of being an old man. complaining about everything and everyone." He snickered a little.

The crack of a whip and the whimpers of a man broke the two from the conversation. Daenerys snapped her head up and saw one of the Dothraki striking his whip against one of the slaves that was on foot, forcing him to keep up.

"Tell them all to stop." Daenerys suddenly demanded, causing Ser Jorah and Kazma to give her a confused look.

"You want the entire horde to stop?" Jorah asked, just to confirm. "For how long?"

Daenerys hesitated momentarily before finding her voice, reminding herself to keep it firm and strong. Leaving no room for doubt or debate. "Until I command them otherwise."

Kazma cocked a brow, not bothering to hide the rising smirk. "You're starting to talk like a queen."

"Not a queen, A Khaleesi." Daenerys corrected. She dismounted her horse and took a moment to walk off into the thick brush of the tall bamboo.

There was nothing but the sound of chittering cicadas and the soothing sound of leaves brushing up against one another. The peaceful silence was soon interrupted when her brother suddenly barked out of the bamboo on horseback, wielding his sword like a madman.

"You dare. You give commands to me? To me?" he said with wild, bewildered eyes. He swiftly dismounted his horse and stalked up to Daenerys with a maddening glint in his eyes. He roughly grabbed her neck and forced her eyes. "You do not command that dragon. I am lord of the Seven Kingdoms. I do not take orders from savages or their sluts." He spat his words out like a hissing dragon.

"Then what about tigers?"

As silent as a stalking tiger, the rough edge of an axe curled around Viserys' throat, causing the little lizard to freeze up and release Daenerys. The edge of Kazma's axe was razor sharp, polished enough that Viserys could see his own sweat beading down his forehead. He didn't even look to his side when he heard Alyona's low growl as she prowled beside him.

"You have…no idea how insignificant you're existence is to me…so why do you ty and pretend to be something you can never become." Kazma's voice was a low growl, something similar to when Alyona was stalking her prey. "I can cut your throat right now and leave your body to swell and bloat in the hot sun…and still sleep easily at night."

Viserys tried to open his mouth, but his throat was dry, and his words might as well be lost in another country. His strength left him like blood through an open wound, replaced with this primal sense of fear and vulnerability.

"Lord Kazma!" Daenerys' voice cracked as she spoke up, staring wide eyes at the old Highlander and the stalking tiger. "Please…I want my brother….unharmed."

Kazma's dark eyes never left Viserys. "Is that a request from a friend? Or a command from a Khaleesi?"

"Both." She stated firmly, her gaze unwavering.

Kazma gave her a very brief glance before pulling his axe away. Viserys noticeably relaxed his shoulders. Fury burned inside him fiercely, and without letting even a minute pass, he spun around to rip into Kazma. His words were cut before floriation when Kazme readied himself and pulled out his sword at a remarkable pace. He sliced upwards, creating a semi-deep cut across Viserys' face, from the right side of his chin, across the bridge of his nose, and over the left side of his forehead.

It was a superficial cut. A warning, but Viserys still clenched his face as pain and blood oozed out of the wound. He fell to his knees, staring between Kazma and Daenerys. His eyes then met Jorah, who rode up onto the scene.

"Mormont! Kill this Highlander dog!" Viserys screamed until his voice cracked.

Jorah crinkled his brows and looked up, meeting Kazma's gaze. The old man had that look in his eyes again. The look of a predatory who was out for blood but holding back for perhaps Daenerys' sake. It would've been an interesting fight between him and Kazma, but now, the old tiger is as dangerous as a real beast.

"I am your king!" Viserys shot to his feet and shouted.

Kazma nodded his head at Jorah, and the two men made an unspoken agreement. No words were needed. No blood was to be spilled.

"Should we return to the khalasar, Khalessi? Lord Kazma?"

Daenerys didn't say anything and walked over to her mare that Jorah brought with him. Kazma strolled over and grabbed her waist, quickly setting her upon her mount. He gave her a reassuring pat on the leg.

As they strolled away, Viserys huffed and whipped his head around, looking for his blade. He stormed over to retrieve it, but Alyona intercepted it, making the man hold still. Seemingly out of the shadows, Highlanders emerged one by one. It was almost like they were there the whole time, hiding in the tall bamboo like…stalking tigers. One retrieved Viserys' sword while the other leered at him as they left, leaving alone in the bamboo forest.

It dawned on Viserys at the moment…the gravity of the situation. Kazma's men were waiting for him. Waiting on the moment for him to slip up. And if he did…it would've been over before he knew what happened.

"Highlander dogs…" he hissed, storming to catch up, realizing he now had to walk.


"You were really going to kill him, were you?" Daenerys asked for a moment of silence. She had been riding beside Kazma and Jorah for a few miles until she spoke up.

"I was," Kazma said with doubt and hesitation. "I don't make threats of death unless I was serious. That scare I have him…was an act of mercy. The last and only shrivel of warning that I was willing to give him."

"I can vouch for that." Jorah chimed in. "I saw the look in your eyes. It would've been an interesting match if we crossed blades, but…you know what they say about old tigers," he trailed off.

Daenerys cocked a brow, waiting for him to finish his sentence. "What do they say."

Jorah glanced over to Kazma, staring at the side profile of his weathered features. Yet, his eyes still remained as fierce as when he was young. "That they have nothing to lose."