As dusk deepened, Daenerys said to Aggo, "Detain Odo's men, give the Lamb People some food, and let them leave on their own."
Aggo cast a wary glance at the Lamb People huddled in the corner. "Khaleesi, the Lamb People hate us. Now that they know our location, they might bring their main force to surround and annihilate us. They may be cowardly, but they're not stupid. They'll seize this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."
The young man's mind proved surprisingly sharp. Daenerys looked at him with surprise and explained, "How far can they walk in the dark? Even if they reach the Lhazar River by tomorrow afternoon, that would be a miracle. But we'll be long gone by tomorrow morning."
"Better to just kill them outright," Aggo grumbled and left.
The blood-red sun sank below the horizon. The Lamb People were astonished to be granted their freedom. After timidly testing the waters, they fled in a panicked mass.
But the cremation didn't begin immediately.
A group of Horse People stared wide-eyed at the night sky, searching for auspicious signs.
Whenever a Horse King died, his mount was also killed to be buried with him, symbolizing his majestic ride into the Land of the Night.
As their bodies were cremated beneath the vast sky, the Kha would ride forth on his flaming Flame Horse, soaring into the heavens to become a star in the night sky.
The brighter the flames of their pyres burned, the more brilliantly his star would shine in the darkness.
Therefore, before lighting the fires, they had to find the star that represented their Kha—not just any ordinary star, but an anomalous celestial body that had appeared that very day, since the Kha was being buried today.
This proved to be quite troublesome. How could they possibly find such a rare celestial body?
The Dothraki sat on the ground, scanning the sky, and even Daenerys felt awkward.
If she had lived in this world for over a decade, she could have easily pointed to some inconspicuous star and bluffed her way through.
But she had only recently arrived, and her predecessor knew nothing about astronomy—at least not as much as the nomads who spent their days gazing at the stars. In short, she couldn't fool the Dothraki.
"Can every Kha find their own star?" she asked an elderly Dothraki man.
"Of course," the old man replied. "The great Drogo was the twelfth Kha I served. I witnessed with my own eyes how all eleven preceding Khals rode their fiery steeds to become blazing stars. Among them was the Kha's father." The old man's dark, weathered face flushed as if he had been drinking, thrilled that the Khaleesi herself was speaking to him.
"Twelve? How many dynasties have you served?"
As Daenerys silently grumbled, she couldn't help but marvel at the sheer number of heroes who had risen and fallen like shooting stars across the grass sea.
"How long do we usually have to wait?" she asked.
"Khaleesi, it's still early. At least until the dead of night," the old man replied, his lips, dry and cracked like withered orange peel, splitting to reveal a mouth full of rotten, broken teeth. Yet his weathered face radiated an unexpected warmth. "Once, we'd just lit the fire when the sun rose. We waited all night!"
Daenerys understood. This was a test of endurance.
By the time everyone was exhausted, dizzy with hunger, and their vision blurred, even the moon might be mistaken for the Kha's alien star.
"Found it! Over there!" Rakharo's voice rang out, filled with excitement.
Daenerys followed his gaze and spotted a crimson comet low on the eastern horizon—red as blood, red as fire, like a dragon breathing flames.
This was undeniably an alien star, the strongest omen she could have asked for.
"Heh heh, the twelfth one," the old man chuckled.
"Pour the oil!" Daenerys commanded loudly.
Jars of sesame oil, castor oil, and vegetable oil were poured over Drogo's corpse. Haggo and Koso were also drenched. The oily liquid soaked through the silk sheets, branches, and bundles of dry grass, seeping into the firewood beneath. A sweet, fragrant aroma filled the air.
"Tie up the Maegi and throw her into the pyre," Daenerys commanded again.
Mirri Maz Duur had been lurking in the crowd, silently watching the funeral pyre being constructed. She had thought everything would be over when Jhogo returned with the infant's head.
Though she regretted not being able to take her revenge personally, she had felt somewhat satisfied seeing the tiny head.
But she never imagined the Silver Lady would suddenly order her to be burned alive.
"No, no, no, Silver Lady, Khaleesi, please listen to me..." The Maegi dodged Aggo's grasp, struggling wildly and shouting, "I saved Lady Lilith! You promised me a reward! I sang the birth song for you and helped you deliver a healthy little prince! You can't do this to me! It's unfair, it's madness!" The Maegi cried, her voice choked with sobs.
The Maegi was no match for Aggo. In mere moments, she was pinned to the sandy ground, unable to move.
"Bring me my dragon eggs as well," Daenerys ordered the maids, her tone carrying an unspoken weight that sent them scurrying away.
Jorah, his face pale, stepped forward and grasped her arm. "Your Highness, Drogo will have no use for dragon eggs in the Land of the Night. We should take them to Asshai and sell them. Selling just one would be enough to buy a large ship to return to the Free Cities. The wealth from selling three would be more than enough to sustain you for a lifetime."
"Do I look like I'm in need of money?" Daenerys asked with a wry smile.
Jorah couldn't smile. He was momentarily speechless, then tightened his grip on her arm, as if trying to snatch his princess back from the clutches of death. "Your Highness, I know Prince Rhaego's death has been a devastating blow.
Even though you maintain a strong facade before others, I know your heart is drowning in tears. This crushing sorrow is breaking your spirit. Yet you still have—"
His face flushed as he nearly blurted out words of love that overstepped the bounds of loyalty between a subject and his sovereign. In the next moment, he noticed the wide, almond-shaped eyes of the surrounding courtiers. Defeated, he continued, "But you are only fourteen years old. You have countless years ahead of you, and countless more princes and princesses to come."
"Don't worry, Ser. Remember, I'm a True Dragon," Daenerys said, awkwardly pulling her arm free from his tight grip. She lowered her voice, her words carrying a pointed meaning, "Last time, I thought Viserys was like me—that he would never die by the molten gold of the sun. It turns out... he wasn't a True Dragon!"
Jorah released Daenerys, his mind racing to decipher her words as he watched her cradle the three dragon eggs handed to her by a maid. With Aggo and Rakharo supporting her, she slowly climbed onto Drogo's funeral pyre.
Daenerys waved the Dothraki warriors away. She placed the white dragon egg on Drogo's chest, securing it with his hands. Then, she lay down beside him, holding the black egg, with the green egg nestled between them.
"So, you've gone mad," the Maegi, bound nearby, said with a twisted laugh as she watched Daenerys complete her actions. "The endless suffering has driven you insane. Hahaha, so that's it.
You should have taken my advice earlier—life for life, death for death. If the blood magic had resurrected that butcher, you could have at least saved your husband's life. Hahaha, regretting it now, aren't you? Hahaha."
"I'll kill you first," Koso, standing nearby, roared in fury. He lunged forward, ready to strike down the cackling lambkin priestess.
"Stop! I want her burned alive," Daenerys called out to Koso.
The usually rebellious Bloodrider was surprisingly obedient this time. He didn't curse Daenerys, and his gaze toward her held a respect he had never shown before, as if he were moved by her "great" act of self-immolation?
Or perhaps he believed that if they were to return to the Land of the Night together, his Kha would still choose her as Khaleesi?
Daenerys turned to the Maegi. "Have you forgotten? In your temple, when Cohollo first treated the Kha's wounds, he said that if the Kha died, you would surely die.
I am fulfilling that promise. Whether you are responsible for the Kha's death or not, he is dead, and you will die."
"Hahaha! You're right. If the Kha dies, the Maegi who treated him must die," Haggo laughed from the other side. He slit his own throat, gasping, "We should all go down to join the Kha..."
"Ssssh—" A hiss followed from Koso's side as a jet of blood erupted from his throat.
"They're all gone," Daenerys said, her voice complex as she gazed at the red comet at the edge of the sky. "Now it's your turn.
When Drogo fell from his horse, I already decided this would be your end today."
"Don't deny it. You killed him and planned to sacrifice his son to the devil. What's even more cruel is that you used a wife and a mother to carry out this plan."
"Heh, you're smarter than I thought." The Priestess no longer denied it. She laughed triumphantly, "But your son still died. That's enough. My vengeance is complete."
"Yes, you sought vengeance, and that's justified," Daenerys agreed. The Priestess had every right to slaughter the villains who had desecrated her homeland. "But how will you repay the debt of saving your life?"
"Repay?" Daenerys's words seemed to ignite the Priestess's long-suppressed fury. Priestess Lhazar spat, her voice rising in a torrent of questions. "I was dragged from the temple of my god by the Dothraki, and a pack of men waited to violate me.
They didn't have normal intercourse. They mounted me from behind, like dogs mating—not like men and women.
When you rode past on your horse, the fourth man was inside me. How did you save me?
I witnessed the burning of my god's temple, where I had once healed countless pious men and women—back when I was a pure physician, a devout priestess, not this Maegi, this blood witch."
"My home was burned down by the Dothraki. Heads lie piled in the streets—the baker who gave me bread, the little boy I barely saved from the Death-Eye Fever."
"I can still hear the horsemen cracking their whips, driving the children away. Their earth-shattering cries still haunt me. So tell me, what did you save?"
Daenerys fell silent for a moment before answering, "I did everything I could. Ellorye and those women—I saved your life."
The Khaleesi was not a Kha. Even a Kha could not change the Dothraki tradition that "everyone knows." The original Daenerys would have been able to say with a clear conscience, "I am blameless."
"My life?" Mirri laughed coldly. "Look at yourself. When everything you cherished is gone, what meaning does life hold?"
*Hmm, everyone seems to think Daenerys is heartbroken to the point of death, that her impassivity is merely the numbness of despair. As if life itself has lost all meaning.*
"If life has no meaning, why did you beg me before?" Daenerys retorted mockingly.
"You would never have heard my pleas," Mirri replied.