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- Джордж Мартин
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If
I
were
not
the
blood
of
the
dragon
,
she
thought
wistfully
,
this
could
be
my
home
.
She
was
khaleesi
,
she
had
a
strong
man
and
a
swift
horse
,
handmaids
to
serve
her
,
warriors
to
keep
her
safe
,
an
honored
place
in
the
dosh
khaleen
awaiting
her
when
she
grew
old
...
and
in
her
womb
grew
a
son
who
would
one
day
bestride
the
world
.
That
should
be
enough
for
any
woman
...
but
not
for
the
dragon
.
With
Viserys
gone
,
Daenerys
was
the
last
,
the
very
last
.
She
was
the
seed
of
kings
and
conquerors
,
and
so
too
the
child
inside
her
.
She
must
not
forget
.
The
Western
Market
was
a
great
square
of
beaten
earth
surrounded
by
warrens
of
mud-baked
brick
,
animal
pens
,
whitewashed
drinking
halls
.
Hummocks
rose
from
the
ground
like
the
backs
of
great
subterranean
beasts
breaking
the
surface
,
yawning
black
mouths
leading
down
to
cool
and
cavernous
storerooms
below
.
The
interior
of
the
square
was
a
maze
of
stalls
and
crookback
aisles
,
shaded
by
awnings
of
woven
grass
.
A
hundred
merchants
and
traders
were
unloading
their
goods
and
setting
up
in
stalls
when
they
arrived
,
yet
even
so
the
great
market
seemed
hushed
and
deserted
compared
to
the
teeming
bazaars
that
Dany
remembered
from
Pentos
and
the
other
Free
Cities
.
The
caravans
made
their
way
to
Vaes
Dothrak
from
east
and
west
not
so
much
to
sell
to
the
Dothraki
as
to
trade
with
each
other
,
Ser
Jorah
had
explained
.
The
riders
let
them
come
and
go
unmolested
,
so
long
as
they
observed
the
peace
of
the
sacred
city
,
did
not
profane
the
Mother
of
Mountains
or
the
Womb
of
the
World
,
and
honored
the
crones
of
the
dosh
khaleen
with
the
traditional
gifts
of
salt
,
silver
,
and
seed
.
The
Dothraki
did
not
truly
comprehend
this
business
of
buying
and
selling
.
Dany
liked
the
strangeness
of
the
Eastern
Market
too
,
with
all
its
queer
sights
and
sounds
and
smells
.
She
often
spent
her
mornings
there
,
nibbling
tree
eggs
,
locust
pie
,
and
green
noodles
,
listening
to
the
high
ululating
voices
of
the
spellsingers
,
gaping
at
manticores
in
silver
cages
and
immense
grey
elephants
and
the
striped
black-and-white
horses
of
the
Jogos
Nhai
.
She
enjoyed
watching
all
the
people
too
:
dark
solemn
Asshai'i
and
tall
pale
Qartheen
,
the
bright-eyed
men
of
Yi
Ti
in
monkey-tail
hats
,
warrior
maids
from
Bayasabhad
,
Shamyriana
,
and
Kayakayanaya
with
iron
rings
in
their
nipples
and
rubies
in
their
cheeks
,
even
the
dour
and
frightening
Shadow
Men
,
who
covered
their
arms
and
legs
and
chests
with
tattoos
and
hid
their
faces
behind
masks
.
The
Eastern
Market
was
a
place
of
wonder
and
magic
for
Dany
.
But
the
Western
Market
smelled
of
home
.
As
Irri
and
Jhiqui
helped
her
from
her
litter
,
she
sniffed
,
and
recognized
the
sharp
odors
of
garlic
and
pepper
,
scents
that
reminded
Dany
of
days
long
gone
in
the
alleys
of
Tyrosh
and
Myr
and
brought
a
fond
smile
to
her
face
.
Under
that
she
smelled
the
heady
sweet
perfumes
of
Lys
.
She
saw
slaves
carrying
bolts
of
intricate
Myrish
lace
and
fine
wools
in
a
dozen
rich
colors
.
Caravan
guards
wandered
among
the
aisles
in
copper
helmets
and
knee-length
tunics
of
quilted
yellow
cotton
,
empty
scabbards
swinging
from
their
woven
leather
belts
.
Behind
one
stall
an
armorer
displayed
steel
breastplates
worked
with
gold
and
silver
in
ornate
patterns
,
and
helms
hammered
in
the
shapes
of
fanciful
beasts
.
Next
to
him
was
a
pretty
young
woman
selling
Lannisport
goldwork
,
rings
and
brooches
and
torcs
and
exquisitely
wrought
medallions
suitable
for
belting
.
A
huge
eunuch
guarded
her
stall
,
mute
and
hairless
,
dressed
in
sweat-stained
velvets
and
scowling
at
anyone
who
came
close
.
Across
the
aisle
,
a
fat
cloth
trader
from
Yi
Ti
was
haggling
with
a
Pentoshi
over
the
price
of
some
green
dye
,
the
monkey
tail
on
his
hat
swaying
back
and
forth
as
he
shook
his
head
.
"
When
I
was
a
little
girl
,
I
loved
to
play
in
the
bazaar
,
"
Dany
told
Ser
Jorah
as
they
wandered
down
the
shady
aisle
between
the
stalls
.
"
It
was
so
alive
there
,
all
the
people
shouting
and
laughing
,
so
many
wonderful
things
to
look
at
...
though
we
seldom
had
enough
coin
to
buy
anything
...
well
,
except
for
a
sausage
now
and
again
,
or
honeyfingers
...
do
they
have
honeyfingers
in
the
Seven
Kingdoms
,
the
kind
they
bake
in
Tyrosh
?
"
