Chapter Sixteen: Stimulus.

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~~~~(Point of view: Third person)

~~~~(Date: 275 AC)~~~~

"Look out!" 

"Get out of the way!" 

"Move, you damn eunuch!" 

Endless shouts and insults could be heard in the Khalasar, which originated wherever Azrael passed by. 

With the appearance of the great bull-like beasts, the members of the Khalasar clustered around them, like bees to pollen, gazing in amazement at the great creature, who made the ground tremble as he walked. 

Azrael was guiding one of the devastators, leading him and showing him the way thanks to the strong and thick ropes similar to a horse's bridle, only bigger. 

Other than him, the blood riders were driving away or stopping anyone who came too close. 

"Come on, buddy, we're almost there," Azrael was saying to the devastator, advancing with the animal carefully; however, as always in life, there had to be someone stupid. A Dothraki, who was walking beside the devastator, took advantage of the carelessness of the blood riders and, in a move that he thought was clever, ran his hand down the animal's hind leg. 

The devastator, who up to this point was acting as serene and calm as possible, reared up, causing Azrael to let go of the reins for fear of burning his hands, giving the devastator room to act without restraint. 

And in a very swift movement, considering his great size, he turned and faced the Dothraki who dared to touch him. The poor man had no time to react when the devastator, in a show of fury and ferocity, grabbed him with his large and strong jaw, splitting the man in two. 

Azrael ran to grab the animal's reins again, as he watched the scene left behind by the devastator. "Easy buddy, shh," Azrael said, rubbing his hand across the devastator's muzzle in an attempt to calm the animal. 

"Pick up the body and burn it." Azrael turned to three Dothraki standing nearby, who had not moved since the devastator had killed the man. "Anyone else wants to come closer and not obey!" Azrael shouted, facing the Dothraki surrounding him, who simultaneously backed away. 

Seeing that he now had more room to spare, Azrael made the devastator move forward again, arriving shortly after where the chariot was ready to be pulled by the devastator. 

Once there, Azrael, with the help of the tool smiths and the simpletons, positioned the devastator correctly between the two iron bars and then placed the binding on his body, which was fastened with strong chains lined with a thick leather protector to make the devastator's stay as comfortable as possible. 

With that done, the entire caravan gained about seventeen meters from end to end, which was a beautiful sight. 

"Marco" Azrael suddenly called out to a tool smith, who greeted Azrael, "Yes, my Khal?". 

"If I ask you to build chains of iron rings to act as muzzles for the devastators for extra security, could you finish them in the time in which I connect all the devastators to the chariots?" Azrael asked him, thinking about the previous event and wanting to prevent it from happening again. 

"Well, if I have the necessary helpers and the cooperation of all the blacksmiths, it won't take us at most a few hours," Marco answered simply while wiping the sweat from his forehead with a rag. 

"Good, now, to repeat the process... I should have spurred the devastators closer to the workshop," Azrael said to himself, realizing his mistake while scratching the back of his neck for the amount of extra work he would have to do. 

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(Four hours later) 

As the sun was orange, and the clock set on all the carriages reading three o'clock in the afternoon, Azrael saw the last slave woman boarding the carriage, glimpsing the almost endless line of carriages one after the other. 

Azrael did not have such prudish morals as to not accept slaves; mind you, ever since he took power from the Khalasar he gave strict orders not to assault slaves in any way, even to the point of beating to near death a Dothraki for attempting to rape a female slave. 

And while that was not very well accepted, especially when Azrael commented that if they wanted to ride them like dogs, they would have to take them as wives, only to be met with comments like; 'a horse does not mate with sheep' or 'the horse doesn't mind stepping on a hen; if he steps on her, it's because it's his right'. 

It took several nearly dead Dothraki to make them understand, and to this day, several Dothraki have married some female slaves.

In the case of the slave women who did not have Dothraki husbands, they were now the servants of the Dothraki women, helping to raise their children, being caretakers of the Dothraki elders, and learning from the eunuchs and Dothraki women elders about methods of healing and childbirth. 

All of this caused the female slaves to desperately seek to marry a Dothraki, as this would make them Dothraki women and elevate their status within the Khalasar, causing their former fellow slaves to serve him. 

In the case of male slaves, they had it harder, as for obvious reasons they could not marry a Dothraki, and all Dothraki women were already married, so that path was not an option. 

So, these were started to be used by the Dothraki like the roles a squire would do: taking care of their horse, keeping their clothes clean, or protecting their back, if only to act as cannon fodder until the Dothraki they served could defend themselves. 

However, despite all that, the situation of the slaves in the Khalasar had improved, if only a little. 

Once Azrael noticed that the women had entered the carriages, opened the windows of the carriages, and saw through them from the first or second floor, Azrael gave the order to advance. 

With that, Azrael began leading the way, being guarded by his blood riders and further back his five fierce wolves. 

Behind them, came the rest of the Khalasar, with the women happily and contentedly chatting amongst themselves, while their camels walked at a safe and confident pace, with the men riding close to their Khal or guarding the extended convoy of carriages. 

It was an amazing sight, moving like ants behind their queen—or, in this case, their Khal, with the Khalasar stretching for miles. 

"My Khal, around these parts there are Lhazar settlements; do you wish to visit them?" Zirqo asked Azrael, who understood what he meant by 'visit them'. 

After contemplating the idea for a few seconds, Azrael decided to decline: "No, it's not necessary; we have no shortage of supplies, and I don't want to waste time on unnecessary activities." 

Nodding, Zirqo did not suggest the subject again, only for Essino to dislike the silence, breaking it after a while. "My Khal, you should get a woman; imagine children of the Khal riding the world; they would be unstoppable," he said, spreading his arms and looking up at the sky as if reading something mysterious. 

Azrael was amused, considering he hadn't thought about it. Of course, he wouldn't say no to casual sex, at least not until he was married; only right now he was focused on staying alive, and not sticking his penis in a pussy. 

"When that happens, you'll be the first to know," Azrael assured him. 

Within minutes, Qrano came riding up quickly, a smile on his mouth. 

"Blood of my blood," Qrano greeted him, receiving a nod from Azrael. "My Khal, another Khalasar is attacking a Lhazareen village. Of at least some seven thousand warriors, what do you command?" 

Azrael, if surprised, did not let it show, remaining silent for a while, then raising his gaze and, with a serious countenance and a cruel smile, shouting. 

"Who wants to cut off heads?" to receive a loud shout of support from the Dothraki.

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