The king

Dothraki Sea…..

Jon strode to Khal Drogo's tent and was greeted with smiles. The Khalassar had accepted him after their first battle and what they lacked in decorum they more made up for in loyalty. Jon was no longer an outsider to them. Sure, his Westorsi ways were different but, the Khalassar accepted them and even incorporated some of his beliefs as their own. Jon was now part of the Khalassar and the Khalassar was now part of him.

Jon walked past the training yard where the hired teachers were teaching the new lietenants or Ko's, numbers and letters. It was one of the changes that Jon and Drogo initiated in the Khalassar and it had been a hit. At first, the old guard resented having to learn but, after Jon read his own diary about the battle of Rhoynar's Pass they were enthralled. Jon told them if they learned to read and write, that their words would be preserved like his. No longer would they need story tellers to tell those after them of their experiences, that they could tell them themselves. After Jon brought out that point the Drogo's lieutenants quickly enrolled. The Dothraki might not have liked numbers or letters but, they sure liked bragging. Jon laughed to himself at such a thought.

Jon opened the tent flap and nodded his head to Drogo before taking a seat across from him. Drogo reached under the furs to his right and pulled out a leather bag. From the bag Drogo pulled out a simple board with ivory and ebony pieces. The board was a gift from Jon and Drogo cherished it. Drogo quickly sets up the Cyvasse board in between him and the Rhoynar. Others quickly enter the tent to view their leader's weekly match.

It still surprised Jon when others walked in to watch their game but, in hindsight, it really shouldn't. After Jon had explained Westorsi leaders often played the game to simulate war the Khal was intrigued. Jon had bought a board and some pieces when the Khalassar left the Dothraki Sea to trade (extort) some port cities. Jon quickly taught Drogo the rules and as soon as he pestered Jon day and night to play. Drogo had taken to the game like a fish to water and it showed. Jon still beat him a little more than half the time but, their matches were quickly stretching from dusk till dawn. In fact, they had become so adept at the game that Jon asked to limit their play to once a week. Drogo reluctantly agreed but, he had made Cyvasse a mandatory training aid for all his officers. Someone once joked that to be in charge of men you have to shed blood on the battlefield as well as the Cyvasse board. It made Jon smile as he realized how true that saying was becoming. Drogo often challenged his up and coming leaders to play him in a game to see how they thought. Last an hour with Drogo and you might lead ten men, last less than five minutes and you would be dismantling the outhouses when the Khalassar moved.

Jon was broken from his musings when Drogo decided to speak.

"I believe, I was white last week. This week I will be black." Drogo said in his ever growing Westorsi vocabulary.

"Hmm, that is fine with me. I always like to attack first." Jon said.

Drogo laughed at his brother's arrogance.

The game was one hour in and the whole tent was now full. Many of Drogo's lieutenants criticized every move made by their leaders and their leaders praised them for it. Gone were the days that useful criticism earned you a knife to the gut, these days the Khalassar cherished useful criticism as they saw it as a way to improve yourself.

The game was progressing when Jon saw something he disapproved of. Drogo was trying something new. Granted it was foolish but, in Drogo's mind it was worth the gamble. He was using his king as bait so his queen and his knights could ambush Jon's officers. Jon quickly raised his hand to pause. This was a lesson that his uncle Doran had taught him and it was a lesson he never forgot. He would be remiss if he didn't pass it on to his brothers in arms.

Drogo raised his eyebrow when Jon paused his move. He had seen this contemplative look before from his brother and with it often came a lesson.

"Why did you move your king there brother." Jon said.

"Isn't it obvious? To win."

Jon shook his head.

"One does not win by using the king as bait?" Jon said.

"Why not? In battle every piece in the board is used. Why not the king? Why should I leave my king behind the lines when he could be used to help me win?" Drogo said.

Jon shook his head again. It was the same reason he gave his uncle once upon a time.

"Tell me Drogo, if the pieces on the board were the Khalassar, who would the king be?" Jon asked.

Everyone stopped talking and was intrigued. To everyone it was obvious, the Khal was the king but, they had known Jon long enough to know that the obvious answer wasn't always the right one.

Drogo pondered this for a moment before answering.

"I am the king. The officers protect me from harm." Drogo said.

Without batting an eye Jon answered him.

"if that was true, why does the king only move one space at a time while the queen moves entire rows or columns?" Jon asked.

Drogo sits there with a confused look trying to figure out where he is going with this.

Jon continues.

"The King only moves one space at a time and when he is threatened, the other officers have to sacrifice their lives for him. In all respects, he is the weakest officer on the board, yet the most important. He is so important that the game ends when he is captured. So who is he?"

Drogo is in deep thought. He always thought of the board as his Khalassar but, he never thought of it as more than that. If someone had asked him an hour ago who the pieces were then he would have answered without hesitation. Rhakharo, Tyr, Rhade, and the rest of his lieutenants were his officers. Jon, for lack of a better term, was the queen, while he was the king. Now, it all seemed confusing. Did Jon think himself the king?

"Who is he then?" Drogo asked.

Jon looked around and saw that all eyes were on him. His eyes focused on a sleeping seven year old named Talo. He was Rhade's son and he enjoyed hearing Jon and Drogo's stories but, it seemed that waiting for them to finish their game had exhausted him. He could hear the child let out a soft snore. Jon smiled at the boy before answering.

Jon took the king and asked.

"That is simple. He is." Jon said while pointing to Talo.

Drogo and the rest of the men were confused. They didn't expect the answer that Jon had given them.

"Explain." Drogo said.

"It's simple my Khal. The king is the next generation. It is the generation we pass our hopes, our dreams, and our honor to. It is them that this Khal and its Khalassar would die to protect."

Jon sees a light of understanding sweep over the tent before he continues.

"It is them that we pass on our skills and our sense of honor to. I once asked my uncle the same questions you ask now. You know what he said?"

Drogo shakes his head.

"He said, 'We protect them because they will surpass us. They will inherit our will as well as our sense of right and wrong. We protect them because we pave the way for better men.' "

"We pave the way for better men." Drogo repeated. Those words struck a chord with him and his Khalassar.

"Aye. We do." Jon said.

Silence echoed inside the tent as men processed the words being said. Little did Jon know that his words would echo through time as the Dothraki Nation emerged from its infancy.

Hours later….

Jon and Drogo sat by the fire alone in their thoughts. Drogo is the first to speak.

"So, you leave tomorrow?" Drogo said.

"Aye, I made you a promise and that promise is almost fulfilled." Jon said.

"Yes, you are a man of your word brother. But, are you sure you want to cross the sea. To the Dothraki, the sea means death."

"Do not fret Drogo. I will return and when I do, you will have allies across the narrow sea." Jon says

Drogo nods and Jon looks him in the eye.

"Be careful where you are going brother. To Westorsi, the place you go means death." Jon says.

"Yes, but, Dothraki have never been afraid of Westorsi curses and they never will." Drogo says.

Jon shakes his head and eats his horsemeat. Both look to the stars and the scarlett moon overhead. Both did not know if it was a blessing or an omen.