Chapter twenty-nine: Real Power.

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~~~Azrael Jaezyrian, sixth moon, 276 AC~~~

After two months of extensive walking, in which I led my Khalasar across the great expanses of glistening grass that rippled like tides in the ocean. 

I caught a glimpse of the giant bronze horses in the distance, above the gate of the only known Dothraki city. 

During the journey, my Khalasar encountered other groups, though as my goal was to reach Vaes Dothrak in the shortest possible time, I did not linger with them; there would be more time to conquer them. 

As I passed under the archway formed by the two bronze horses, I could see that there were already many Khalasars here, though I was not surprised, for this would be the time when the khals would gather in the city, all assembled for the Khalar Vezhven, to discuss which cities they would sack and which tribes and villages they would enslave in the coming year. And offer their gifts to the Dosh Khaleen, while bringing back their conquered idols to join the thousands of others on the path of the gods.

One thing I realized throughout my time around the Dothraki was that the number of slaves they had was overwhelming, for out of a Khalasar of twenty thousand, there were perhaps fifteen thousand following them. 

Not only that, but I knew that killing the Khal and their blood riders would not be enough, as many might choose to cut off their braids and leave, but I was not going to leave anyone behind. 

They would all follow me, whether they wanted to or not, so I had already made preparations; I just had to make sure I did my part well. 

As I made my way to a part alone, large enough to accommodate all my Khalasar, I received looks of curiosity, disgust, fear, and even lust, the latter being emitted by some of the Dothraki women. 

The Dothraki owned the place as the backbone of slavery, something I now observed firsthand. Every Khalasar I passed saw thousands upon thousands of slaves; in some cases, even the slaves were more than the Dothraki themselves. 

Understanding that as much as the Dothraki spoke of not using the business of buying and selling and using gold and coins, they kept the strong slave trade circulating strongly on these plains.

And now, that I had banned slavery in my Khalasar and Xandar, I knew I had to use an iron fist to share the same message with the next Dothraki who would come under my power. 

It was my first time in Vaes Dothrak. Still, honestly, I was not surprised in any way possible, with the few houses made by the slaves, both of straw, dirt, and mud, making the 'city' something completely numb in my eyes, especially after living in a city that was something completely more luxurious, huge, prettier and much cleaner and tidier. 

Of the architecture I saw while passing through, many different styles of buildings from many different societies stood out: large hollow stone houses, woven grass huts as large as the walls of some of the mansions in the upper Xandar, bamboo towers, and even lathe rooms with vaulted ceilings. 

What stood out most, however, were the slaves who were everywhere and lived crammed into the many dwellings they were forced to create, with extreme human conditions.

Things progressed after we settled in. During the days following our arrival, many Dothraki would come to our camp, either attracted by the devastators or by the fact that all my people wore armor at all times. As for weapons, all weapons had been stored in two or three carriages, as I was unwilling to give up my things. 

During this time, I also met other Khal, but they were all apathetic and behaved in a very ugly manner towards my party at every possible encounter. 

It was not until five days later that a parrot arrived in my carriage, the animal, with bright green and yellow feathers, made the bird a beauty. 

"Khal" 

"Khal!" 

The parrot greeted me, with a cheerful and somewhat squeaky voice. Parrots were a new element; if in Westeros they used ravens, and elsewhere they used hawks or eagles, in Xandar we used parrots. 

These parrots, taken from the Minecraft menu, were the size of a barn owl, as well as being very surly towards other birds, sometimes coming into conflict with the seagulls and other birds of the city. 

But what made the birds most special was their ability to memorize lines and speak them, so I ordered librarians, witches, and other capable people to train the birds. 

It was after two months that the first few hundred parrots capable of being used as messengers were put into action, so it was not uncommon to see a parrot enter someone's plot and start talking, speaking, and telling his message, and then return to his master. 

"Hello, my Khal, this is Elisio. I have grave news: the city is currently under siege by several mercenary companies, and at the same time, a large armada blockades our shores, making it impossible for merchant ships to enter the city." 

That was something I had already seen coming, plus the witches had already reported that the free cities had mercenary companies, which had started marching to Xandar after they heard I had abandoned the city, so I showed no surprise. Still, the attack orchestrated by the union of the three free cities—Volantis, Meereen, and Yunkai—had to be taken seriously. 

"Don't worry, Elisio, until my order, entry, and exit from Xandar are forbidden. Galio knows what to do around the defensive measures of the gates and the great stone bridge; just hold out until I arrive; you have enough food and necessary resources, so the siege will not influence the lives of any Xandarian." 

With that said, the parrot rested for a moment, at which time I gave him food and water, and then flew off back to Xandar, taking my orders with him. 

I would not move my armies to end the siege, for I wanted to give the good masters and leaders of Volantis a moment's peace, and then destroy their pathetic power play and wipe out their cities. 

But that would be later, for right now I was riding with my blood riders to the great hut for the long-awaited meeting of Khals, the Khalar Vezhven. 

My Khalasar had strict orders to be ready, plus the witches that accompanied me should already be infiltrated throughout Vaes Dothrak. 

The looks I received as I rode were mostly filled with contempt, partly because I was still wearing my Netherite armor, as were my blood riders, though at this point I no longer cared about their expressions, for soon they would all be under the soles of my metal boots. 

At first, when I had begun to take command of my Khalasar, I had taken a somewhat 'peaceful' path, as I was new to this savage world. At the same time, I had no power, but that was in the past, now, if any Dothraki would not align themselves to my command, they would die. 

I had no qualms about murdering anyone who revealed themselves to me, and while I might be turning into a psychopath at this point, I knew I still held a strong line of what I would call my morals', that is, I would not murder children, women and innocents, of course, unless they did not present a problem to everything I had built so far, and even then, their deaths would be as quick as possible. Unless you pissed me off in exorbitant amounts, as was the case with Mirri Maz Duur months ago. 

But now, standing in front of the big thatched hut, I knew I didn't have to show any weakness, because they would all die by the end of the day. 

Turning to look at my eight faithful friends, I reminded them what they had to do: "You know what to do; don't let anyone through, and if a hero shows up, don't hesitate to send him to the lying quarter".

They all nodded, as I heard a, "Don't worry about it, My Khal," and "You didn't have to remind me; I've been looking forward to a good fight for months" from Mottaekho and Cakoqqo. 

Nodding with a cruel smile on my face, I entered through the wooden double doors. 

"HAHAHAHA!" 

"That horse was wild, yet I tamed it!" 

"A slave ordered me to let her go; in the end, I took her like a dog and gave her to my horses!" 

As I entered, several conversations of grotesque tales assailed me, each tale being worse than the last. If I felt a little empathy for these men before, as I had lived with many of them long ago, after what I heard, it filled me with conviction for what I was going to do. 

"Shut up!" 

Silence. 

All the commotion, feasting, and laughter inside the great tent died down, being filled by an uncomfortably cold silence, as everyone gathered, from the Khal to their blood riders, looked at me with deadly sights. 

"What do you say?" spoke a Dothraki, a Khal from what I visualized of him, his face creased with the rage he felt after shouting for them to be quiet. 

"That's what I'm saying; I ordered them to shut up," I replied, as a small, sweet smile showed on my lips. "You all think you are important, strong, and invincible... But in the face of true power, you are nothing". 

"I know you; you're that pansy Khal wearing armor, the one behind a city, a complete disappointment to every respectable Khal" From the group of Khals, I watched as one of them, with many scars on his arms and torso, spoke in a dull and low tone of voice. 

I just looked at him with pity, to which he showed no perceptible reaction; either my expressions caused him nothing, or he was a good master at hiding his thoughts. 

Seeing that many had calmed down, I decided to stir the hornet's nest. "The image you have of me is irrelevant because dead men tell no tales." 

"I don't care that we are in Vaes Dothrak," another man raised his voice, as he approached me, "but I will kill you and piss on your corpse a moment later." 

With that, the furious man approached me and attempted to place his large right hand on my neck, only for me to quickly grab his right forearm and pin his arm. 

However, I didn't stop there, and taking his other arm, the Dothraki was forcibly restrained by me. "You talk too much; I don't like it," I said, and still holding both his arms, I headbutted him hard. 

"Crack!"

The distinctive sound of breaking bones was heard, as I released the man's arms, and with that, the Dothraki fell just like a puppet with its strings cut. 

"Are you ready to die?" I asked, looking around at everyone in the tent, as at my feet lay the dead Dothraki with the broken skull.