Chapter Eighty-two: New Horizons.

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~~~Azrael Jaesyrian, Fourth Moon, 277 AC~~~

~~~Bazar~~~

The situation in the huge camp that had been erected around the ruins of Bazar was in full swing, with hundreds of thousands of people swarming like ants.

This time, I decided not to use the same method to gain the loyalty of the Jhogos Nhai as I did with the Dothraki, since that would take too much time, as in the case of the Horde, it took me more than two weeks to complete such a task, since I had other things to do at that time such as building the railroad tracks in Xandar, as well as systems to transport drinking water to the entire city.

And even then, if I hadn't been busy, it would have taken me a week, and that was only less than 250 thousand people, but in this case, the Jhogos Nhai numbered over a million, it would easily take me a whole month.

It was here that the witches came in, they, as one of the most lethal members, along with their loyalty to me, made them the safest assets to ask to follow my plan.

What was it? The plan was for a total of three hundred witches, using the loyalty incantation books, to gain the loyalty of the Jhogos Nhai warriors, thus, on average, each which would have to gain the loyalty of at least five thousand Jhogos Nhai, which would make gaining everyone's loyalty much easier and faster, thus, each which would command the Jhogos Nhai to be loyal to me, it would be like land restitution.

Once I met with the witches, I gave them each a book of enchantment, which would be returned to me once they finished their work, at the same time, I was taking care of leaving things ready for my early departure to Carcosa, either rectifying that everything was in optimal conditions, as well as giving potions necessary for the recovery of all since they were needed.

So, after two hours, I ordered Endoxes to take off, bound for Carcosa, while Valka and other witches followed us in their respective wyverns.

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~~~Third Person~~~

~~~Fjord, Xandar~~~

"My prince, we have arrived," a stout man with several scars on his face reached the bow of the ship and spoke in a gruff, but affectionate manner to Oberyn, who snorted in amusement, "I thank you, believe me, I hadn't realized that, Romulo."

Romulus, making no sign of Oberyn's mocking tone, spoke to him with a hint of concern, "Why did we come here? You know the company of the Second Sons was destroyed by the one who rules this city and all that we see, I see no point in exposing ourselves here."

"Come on, friend, where's the fun then?" Oberyn dismissed Romulus' words, not taking his eyes off the huge bridge that connected the two northern and southern ends of those giant mountains.

However, seeing Romulo's serious face, he couldn't help but sigh, "I'll just say it's important to come here, I have a mission."

"From your brother, Prince Doran?" Romulo gave an idea to the air, trusting that Oberyn's interest in visiting Xandar, even after learning that many of his former friends and comrades had died there, was due to an appetite from his brother, who would be one of the few people to ask such a thing of him.

"Yes, no interest in keeping it from you, my brother wants one of those potions that Varys the spider got for the queen," Oberyn explained, a decisive look appearing on his face for a few seconds.

"A potion?" Romulus asked, looking at Oberyn like he was crazy, "I think you're too old to believe in myths and circus tricks." Oberyn chuckled, all too familiar with Romulo's blunt and impractical turn of phrase.

In part, he too had some doubts about these... potions, but he also knew that the world hid dark things beneath its merry, partying facade. He had witnessed that himself, in his many travels in the free cities, from Volantis to Qohor. So he was no stranger to such arts.

But according to the details Doran had shared with Oberyn, he had learned that Varys, the newest member of the small council, who enjoyed a very close relationship with Xandar, had managed to obtain a potion that made Queen Rhaella, who unfortunately had been suffering from ill health due to her miscarriages and unborn children, return to a healthy state, healing dormant wounds from her pregnancies, and even making her wrinkles disappear.

Oberyn knew who Doran wanted the Doran potion for, and that was because, as much as he tried to hide it, Oberyn's sister Elia had been presenting physical difficulties several years ago, something that worried his two older brothers, especially now that she would soon be married and pregnant.

It was for the sake of his sister's health, and the undying love the two of them had for her, that Doran acted out of himself and took a direct path instead of his under-the-table machinations, sending his brother as a messenger and diplomat. Something Oberyn agreed to completely upon learning of, with no thought of consequences or dangers he might run, because to him, his sister Elia was untouchable. And if he had to make his way at the point of a sword to one of those potions, he would do it with pleasure as long as he could see his sister healthy.

So it was that they were soon over the huge bridge, with no problems at all. Once they entered the fjord, as the great bay was called, their ship was guided into one of the almost inexhaustible shipping harbors, allowing their ship to dock without complications.

However, the moment the ship's docking ropes were tied to the dock, multiple soldiers in armor, without the use of ladders, entered the ship, making mighty leaps from the dock and landing on the ship's deck.

It had been a wonder that the wood of the floor did not crack under the shock of the fall. "Who owns this ship, what is its purpose on Xandar?"

Several questions were not long in coming, with the Xandarian soldiers being a bit brusque, something that for those who traveled quite a bit to Xandar did not bother them, already familiar with their disdain for anything non-Xandarian.

The crew of the ship Oberyn had arrived at, however, were mercenaries who had accompanied him, men with weak pride and trigger-happy hands, something that was evident when one of them spat on the metal boots of one of the soldiers, and then walked to the front.

"You don't know shit, you're in front of Prince Oberyn, have more respect... Waah!" The poor man was unable to finish his tirade when the soldier who had gotten the spittle on his boots advanced and, with a display of astonishing speed, struck the man's larynx with the backhand of his palm, causing the latter to start choking.

"Who wishes to scream again?" The silence was broken when the soldier commented, wiping his boot on the garments of the man still groaning on the floor.

"I own this ship," Romulus stepped forward, looking down at the man on the ground with a grim face, "and we are here to transport Prince Oberyn Martell of Dorne."

Oberyn took that as a sign, walking with a confident and sure stride until he was only four yards from the soldier, who stared at him for a few seconds.

"Prince or not, you must pass through customs control, in fact, what are you looking for in Xandar, so you can be assigned a guide to accompany you and not get into unnecessary trouble?"

Oberyn gave Romulus a sidelong glance, at which point he decided to flaunt his trademark personality, "I have a business to settle with your Dothraki king, what else?"

That alone was enough for the other soldiers who had boarded the ship, in possession of their spears, to form up and point their spears at the crew members, causing a small uproar among all the sailors.

"What do you desire of our king? Speak or you will be subjected to the sight of an Enderman." What could have remained calm as it was going ended in threats, with an Oberyn smiling mischievously, but somewhat strained, and a sighing Romulus with his hand to his face, not understanding Oberyn's tactlessness.