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- Джордж Мартин
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- Стр. 99/751
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Viserys
was
seated
just
below
her
,
splendid
in
a
new
black
wool
tunic
with
a
scarlet
dragon
on
the
chest
.
Illyrio
and
Ser
Jorah
sat
beside
him
.
Theirs
was
a
place
of
high
honor
,
just
below
the
khal
's
own
bloodriders
,
but
Dany
could
see
the
anger
in
her
brother
's
lilac
eyes
.
He
did
not
like
sitting
beneath
her
,
and
he
fumed
when
the
slaves
offered
each
dish
first
to
the
khal
and
his
bride
,
and
served
him
from
the
portions
they
refused
.
He
could
do
nothing
but
nurse
his
resentment
,
so
nurse
it
he
did
,
his
mood
growing
blacker
by
the
hour
at
each
insult
to
his
person
.
Dany
had
never
felt
so
alone
as
she
did
seated
in
the
midst
of
that
vast
horde
.
Her
brother
had
told
her
to
smile
,
and
so
she
smiled
until
her
face
ached
and
the
tears
came
unbidden
to
her
eyes
.
She
did
her
best
to
hide
them
,
knowing
how
angry
Viserys
would
be
if
he
saw
her
crying
,
terrified
of
how
Khal
Drogo
might
react
.
Food
was
brought
to
her
,
steaming
joints
of
meat
and
thick
black
sausages
and
Dothraki
blood
pies
,
and
later
fruits
and
sweetgrass
stews
and
delicate
pastries
from
the
kitchens
of
Pentos
,
but
she
waved
it
all
away
.
Her
stomach
was
a
roil
,
and
she
knew
she
could
keep
none
of
it
down
.
There
was
no
one
to
talk
to
.
Khal
Drogo
shouted
commands
and
jests
down
to
his
bloodriders
,
and
laughed
at
their
replies
,
but
he
scarcely
glanced
at
Dany
beside
him
.
They
had
no
common
language
.
Dothraki
was
incomprehensible
to
her
,
and
the
khal
knew
only
a
few
words
of
the
bastard
Valyrian
of
the
Free
Cities
,
and
none
at
all
of
the
Common
Tongue
of
the
Seven
Kingdoms
.
She
would
even
have
welcomed
the
conversation
of
Illyrio
and
her
brother
,
but
they
were
too
far
below
to
hear
her
.
So
she
sat
in
her
wedding
silks
,
nursing
a
cup
of
honeyed
wine
,
afraid
to
eat
,
talking
silently
to
herself
.
I
am
blood
of
the
dragon
,
she
told
herself
.
I
am
Daenerys
Stormborn
,
Princess
of
Dragonstone
,
of
the
blood
and
seed
of
Aegon
the
Conqueror
.
The
sun
was
only
a
quarter
of
the
way
up
the
sky
when
she
saw
her
first
man
die
.
Drums
were
beating
as
some
of
the
women
danced
for
the
khal
.
Drogo
watched
without
expression
,
but
his
eyes
followed
their
movements
,
and
from
time
to
time
he
would
toss
down
a
bronze
medallion
for
the
women
to
fight
over
.
The
warriors
were
watching
too
.
One
of
them
finally
stepped
into
the
circle
,
grabbed
a
dancer
by
the
arm
,
pushed
her
down
to
the
ground
,
and
mounted
her
right
there
,
as
a
stallion
mounts
a
mare
.
Illyrio
had
told
her
that
might
happen
.
"
The
Dothraki
mate
like
the
animals
in
their
herds
.
There
is
no
privacy
in
a
khalasar
,
and
they
do
not
understand
sin
or
shame
as
we
do
.
"
Dany
looked
away
from
the
coupling
,
frightened
when
she
realized
what
was
happening
,
but
a
second
warrior
stepped
forward
,
and
a
third
,
and
soon
there
was
no
way
to
avert
her
eyes
.
Then
two
men
seized
the
same
woman
.
She
heard
a
shout
,
saw
a
shove
,
and
in
the
blink
of
an
eye
the
arakhs
were
out
,
long
razor-sharp
blades
,
half
sword
and
half
scythe
.
A
dance
of
death
began
as
the
warriors
circled
and
slashed
,
leaping
toward
each
other
,
whirling
the
blades
around
their
heads
,
shrieking
insults
at
each
clash
.
No
one
made
a
move
to
interfere
.
It
ended
as
quickly
as
it
began
.
The
arakhs
shivered
together
faster
than
Dany
could
follow
,
one
man
missed
a
step
,
the
other
swung
his
blade
in
a
flat
arc
.
Steel
bit
into
flesh
just
above
the
Dothraki
's
waist
,
and
opened
him
from
backbone
to
belly
button
,
spilling
his
entrails
into
the
dust
.
As
the
loser
died
,
the
winner
took
hold
of
the
nearest
woman
--
not
even
the
one
they
had
been
quarreling
over
--
and
had
her
there
and
then
.
Slaves
carried
off
the
body
,
and
the
dancing
resumed
.
