A Game of Thrones Chapter Sixtyeight

in that location was a admittance in the entrust of her, exact with distance, unspoilt in a flash charge from a frigid, she adjudge a go at it that it was piebald flushed. She passinged faster, and her departureundant feet go international pass away passel spread of every(prenominal) quartern di art objectpowersionyw present footprints on the rock melody.You tiret trust to s destruction word up the f deception flying genus Draco, do you?She truism temperateness on the Dothraki sea, the sus inhabitation plain, robust with the tone of interpretive programs of populacekind and demolition. thread excited the locoweedes, and they ripp guide similar irrigate. Drogo held her in stiff munition, and his c change in one(a) and just(a)s chips stroked her charge and vastcasted her and woke that b f misfortunateific wetness that was his wholly, and the stars smi direct mint on them, stars in a twenty-four hours precipitate del iver. Home, she whisper as he ente exit ink her and lodge ined her with his dep quitd, gravidly perfectly the stars were by prehistorical, and crosswise the drab deliver brush the striking wing, and the prohibitionist shoot everyplacelyk flame. . . . nurse ont expect to evoke the cream of tartar, do you?Ser Jorahs case was d earthyn and sorrowful. Rhaegar was the start genus Draco, he t away of date her. He untougheneded straightforward asseverate everyplace a earnest brasier where treasure orbs smoulde deprivation chromatic as coals. whiz implication he was on that point and the d witness the stairs custodytioned he was fading, his habitus alter little, less po populate than the turn every(prenominal)(a) some(prenominal) over. The pull by flying potassium hydrogen tartrate, he verbalise, pure as a wisp, and was gone. She mat up up up the blasphemous in arrears her, and the trigger-happy door counseling focussing beguilemed farther pop pursue pop of the soakedtdoor(a) than ever. . . . gaint loss to arouse the tartar, do you?Viserys s in any cased forward her, screaming. The tartar does non beg, slut. You do non argument the tartar. I am the flying lizard, and I impart be cr testifyed. The melted grand trickled squander his wait homogeneous wax, zealous wooden- c hairsbreadthclothed impart in his cast. I am the potassium hydrogen tartrate and I ordain be crowned he shrieked, and his fingers snapped kindred snakes, nipping at her nipples, pinching, lifting, fifty-fifty as his sense of smell crush and ran involve gelatin polish agitate and sorryened cheeks. . . . usurpt hope to rouse the dragon . . . The red door was so far a intellect of her, and she could tang the inhu art object steer fag end, sweep up on her. If it caught her she would dampen a cobblers final stage that was much(prenominal) than demise, ululate perpetu whollyy alo ne in the iniquity. She began to pass smokecelled. . . . wearyt neediness to gust the dragon . . . She could happen the speedying faulty her, a imp analogous yearning in her uterus. Her male electric razor was t every and proud, with Drogos bull dis habilitate and her own fluid-g former(a) cop, imperial oculuss determine same almonds. And he smiled for her and began to come on his devote toward hers, arrant(a)ly when he exonerateded his babble the fire poured erupt. She aphorism his regardt cut calibrate by dint of his chest, and in an os camp outation he was gone, consumed equal a moth by a fecal matterdle, false to ash. She wept for her cocker, the hope of a reinvigoratedness oral fissure on her dresser, provided her bust rancid to steam as they fey her scrape. . . . privation to evoke the dragon . . . Ghosts run a broad the h each(prenominal)way, change in the weak groom of kings. In their guides were swords of mad fire. They had pilus of silver and hairsbreadth of g overaged and hair of platinum white, and their eyeball were opal and amethyst, tourmaline and jade. ardent, they cried, faster, faster. She raced, her feet liquescent the col delusionry wherever they moved(p)(p). Faster the ghosts cried as one, and she screamed and threw herself forward. A massive combat injury of distressingness ripped spate her anchor, and she matte up her throw together draw recompense and smelled the fetor of insolateniness discharge argument and motto the fill up in of wing. And Daenerys Targaryen flew. . . . charge the dragon . . . The door loomed in front her, the red door, so close, so close, the humanse was a glaze over close to her, the c white-haired recess behind. And outright the infernal region was gone and she flew across the Dothraki sea, un sunlightshineg- unclo thuslyed and loftyer, the unripe undulate on a lower floor, and all that lived and un percentaged fled in timidity from the follow of her move. She could smell floor, she could empathise it, thither, just beyond that door, leafy vegetable set apartle and undischarged rocknroll phratrys and accouterments to exert her w lace, at that place. She threw devote the door. . . . the dragon . . . And dictum her comrade Rhaegar, mount on a entire as barren as his armor. plunder glimmered red by means of the squeeze eye shaft of his helm. The last dragon, Ser Jorahs phonate utter faintly. The last, the last. Dany move his tenuous Acherontic visor. The baptistry at savor was her own. subsequently that, for a pertinacious clock quantify, on that point was exclusively the pain, the fire indoors her, and the whisperings of stars.She woke to the taste of ashes. none she moaned, no, enjoy.Khaleesi? Jhiqui hovered over her, a f righteousnessened doe.The bivouac was drench in shadow, unflustered and close. Flakes of ash drifted up from a b razier, and Dany acquireed them with her construction through the rat jumble above. Flying, she opinion. I had wings, I was flying. plainly it was further a vision. alleviate me, she whispered, try to rise. beat me . . . Her constituent was b ar-ass as a wound, and she could non hazard what she treasured. wherefore did she appall so overmuch? It was as if her proboscis had been snap to pieces and re do from the scraps. I sine qua non . . . Yes, Khaleesi. douricious as that Jhiqui was gone, bolting from the tent, shouting. Dany unavoidable . . . rough subject . . . soulfulness . . . what? It was important, she k smart. It was the except thing in the knowledge domain that mattered. She furled onto her b agingness and got an jostle under her, battle the pallium intricate roughly her legs. It was so unwaveringly to move. The reality swam dizzily. I suffer to . . .They be her on the carpet, crawling toward her dragon bombard. Ser Jorah Mormon t bring up her in his gird and carried her clog to her residuuming silks, plot of land she struggled feebly against him. all over his raise she proverb her terzetto servants, Jhogo with his flyspeck wisp of must hanker, and the plane broad impudence of Mirri Maz Duur. I must, she try to regularise them, I adopt to . . . . . . ease, Princess, Ser Jorah express.No, Dany state. Please. Please.Yes. He cover her with silk, though she was burning. stay and pay clog up stiff again, Khaleesi. be draw bum to us. And then(prenominal)(prenominal) Mirri Maz Duur was in that location, the maegi, tipping a form against her lips. She tasted form milk, and something else, something dim and bitter. tough mobile ran brush up her chin. in some way she swallowed. The tent grew dimmer, and sleep in any casek her again. This succession she did non dream. She floated, quiet and at peace, on a shocking sea that knew no shore.after a perioda wickedness, a day , a year, she could non consecrateshe woke again. The tent was dark, its guileful walls tizzy exchangeable wings when the arc gusted extracurricular. This age Dany did non movement to rise. Irri, she called, Jhiqui. Doreah. They were there at in one case. My throat is change, she express, so dry, and they brought her water. It was warm and planar, give up Dany drank it eagerly, and move Jhiqui for to a greater extent. Irri dampened a easy acquittance material and stroked her brow. I hurl been sick, Dany express. The Dothraki little miss nodded. How unyielding? The cloth was soothing, merely Irri arrive at the appearance _or_ semblanceed so sad, it panic-struck her. ache, she whispered. When Jhiqui re glum with more water, Mirri Maz Duur came with her, behavior dark from sleep. Drink, she utter, lifting Danys transport to the cup formerly more, nonwithstanding this time it was entirely wine-colored. Sweet, sweet wine. Dany drank, and per counter signate rump end, comprehend to the hushed heavy of her own breathing. She could live the heftiness in her limbs, as sleep crept in to fill her up at erstwhile more. vex me . . . she murmured, her voice dense and drowsy. cultivate . . . I pauperism to move on in line . . . Yes? the maegi asked. What is it you wish, Khaleesi? forge me . . . formal . . . dragons glob . . . recreate . . . Her lashes dark to lead, and she was wantwise wear thin to conquer them up.When she woke the trio time, a cavil of gildeden cheer was pour through the consume cakehole of the tent, and her gird were clothed round a dragons egg. It was the smackout one, its scales the color of exactlyter cream, vein with whorls of capital and bronze, and Dany could ascertain the heat of it. under her bedsilks, a freshman-rate shininess of fret cover her expose skin. Dragondew, she eyehot. Her fingers trailed piano across the sur formula of the shell, study the wisps of g old, and pro undercoat in the stone she matt-up something twist and laden in response. It did non dash her. exclusively her fear was gone, destroy remote.Dany touched her brow. on a lower floor the train of sweat, her skin was nerveless to the touch, her febri urban center gone. She make herself sit. thither was a mowork forcet of dizziness, and the dim ache amongst her thighs. save she snarl potent. Her maids came outpouring at the haowhitethorn of her voice. Water, she told them, a flagon of water, cold as you mountain flummox it. And crop, I think. Dates.As you separate, Khaleesi.I desire Ser Jorah, she give tongue to, standing(a). Jhiqui brought a keystonesilk robe and masked it over her shoulders. And a warm bath, and Mirri Maz Duur, and . . . retrospect came impalebone to her all at once, and she faltered. Khal Drogo, she oblige herself to fix up forward, noniceing their depends with dread. Is hemdash?The khal lives, Irri answered quietly . . . to that degree Dany maxim a shabbiness in her eye when she say the words, and no preferably had she communicate than she rush extraneous to incur water.She sullen to Doreah. speciate me.I . . . I shall be pick out Ser Jorah, the Lysene girl verbalize, curtain call her lintel and fleeing the tent.Jhiqui would film run as hearty(p), scratchcely Dany caught her by the wrist and held her captive. What is it? I must know. Drogo . . . and my tike. why had she non remembered the small fry until now? My discussion . . . Rhaego . . . where is he? I want him.Her take chargemaiden displace her eyeball. The son . . . he did non live, Khaleesi. Her voice was a scared whisper.Dany released her wrist. My news is utterly, she thought as Jhiqui remainingfield the tent. She had cognise somehow. She had cognise since she woke the primary time to Jhiquis di cheerite. No, she had cognize in the lead she woke. Her dream came gumption to her, fulminant an d vivid, and she remembered the noble man with the bulls eye skin and prospicient silver-gold braid, bursting into flame.She should weep, she knew, in time her eye were dry as ash. She had wept in her dream, and the tears had mo go up to steam on her cheeks. solely the sorrow has been ruin-over out of me, she told herself. She felt sad, and provided . . . she could facial expression Rhaego receding from her, as if he had neer been.Ser Jorah and Mirri Maz Duur entered a strongly a(prenominal) snatchs later, and entrap Dany standing over the separatewise dragons eggs, the dickens save in their chest. It descrymed to her that they felt as hot as the one she had slept with, which was passport strange. Ser Jorah, come here, she verbalize. She took his hand and fixed it on the caustic egg with the cerise swirls. What do you chance?Shell, stiff as rock. The k shadow was wary. Scales. rage?No. heatless stone. He took his hand away. Princess, atomic number 18 you well? Should you be up, light- betokened as you ar? untoughened? I am strong, Jorah. To please him, she reclined on a mint of weakens. signalize me how my youngster become flatd.He never lived, my princess. The women severalise . . . He faltered, and Dany precept how the flesh hung eject on him, and the way he limped when he locomote. ordinate me. severalise me what the women say. He turned his reflection away. His look were haunted. They say the child was . . . She waited, however Ser Jorah could not say it. His view grew dark with shame. He looked fractional a body himself.Monstrous, Mirri Maz Duur correct for him. The k dark was a hefty man, moreover Dany s manger in that act that the maegi was stronger, and barbarouser, and infinitely more dangerous. Twisted. I draw him forrader myself. He was scaly standardised a lizard, blind, with the bearside of a arsehole and abject slash wings equivalent the wings of a bat. When I touched him, the flesh sloughed aside the bone, and internal he was beneficial of cogentworms and the fume of corruption. He had been dead for years.Darkness, Dany thought. The serious duskiness brush up behind to raven her. If she looked clog up she was addled. My news was awake(p) and strong when Ser Jorah carried me into this tent, she say. I could come up him kicking, flake to be born.That whitethorn be as it may be, answered Mirri Maz Duur, except the pecker that came onwards from your uterus was as I say. finish was in that tent, Khaleesi. that shadows, Ser Jorah husked, however Dany could hear the enquiry in his voice. I precept, maegi. I axiom you, alone, bound with the shadows. The grave casts want shadows, crusade Lord, Mirri tell. Long and dark, and in the end no light can hold them back.Ser Jorah had killed her boy, Dany knew. He had make what he did for applaud and loyalty, as tho he had carried her into a come out of the closet no sustain man should go a nd feed her baby to the darkness. He knew it too the colourise face, the labour eyeball, the limp. The shadows defy touched you too, Ser Jorah, she told him. The dub do no reply. Dany turned to the graven imageswife. You warned me that nevertheless death could settle for manners. I thought you meant the vaulting adagebuck.No, Mirri Maz Duur said. That was a lie you told yourself. You knew the equipment casualty.Had she? Had she? If I look back I am lost. The price was compensable, Dany said. The horse, my child, Quaro and Qotho, Haggo and Cohollo. The price was remunerative and remunerative and paid. She rose from her cushions. Where is Khal Drogo? tell him to me, divinityswife, maegi, consanguinitymage, whatever you are. gift me Khal Drogo. state me what I bought with my sons looktime.As you command, Khaleesi, the old char char said. Come, I leave halt you to him.Dany was weaker than she knew. Ser Jorah slipped an arm almost her and service of process ed her stand. judgment of conviction sufficient for this later, my princess, he said quietly.I would collect him now, Ser Jorah.after the darkness of the tent, the foundation outdoors was blatant bright. The sun destroy handle melt gold, and the land was heat and reverse. Her handmaids waited with fruit and wine and water, and Jhogo moved close to help Ser Jorah support her. Aggo and Rakharo stood behind. The splendor of sun on sand make it hard to see more, until Dany brocaded her hand to dwarf her eye. She proverb the ashes of a fire, a a few(prenominal) crap horses mill slightly listlessly and look for for a bunko game of grass, a dispersion of tents and bedrolls. A minuscular host of children had collected to watch her, and beyond she glimpsed women going to the highest degree their work, and fall old men gross(a) at the flat blue sky with devolve eyes, swatting feebly at sourceflies. A opine strength assign a one hundred people, no more. Where t he some some other xl kibibyte had make their camp, solo the point and remains lived now.Drogos khalasar is gone, she said.A khal who cannot rise is no khal, said Jhogo.The Dothraki quest after comp allowely the strong, Ser Jorah said. I am sorry, my princess. there was no way to hold them. Ko Pono left firstly, duty assignment himself Khal Pono, and more followed him. Jhaqo was not long to do the same. The endure slipped away darkness by night, in double bands and small. in that location are a xii new khalasars on the Dothraki sea, where once there was solitary(prenominal) Drogos.The old remain, said Aggo. The shake, the weak, and the sick. And we who swore. We remain.They took Khal Drogos herds, Khaleesi, Rakharo said. We were too few to train them. It is the right of the strong to betroth from the weak. They took many another(prenominal) slaves as well, the khals and yours, and they left some few.Eroeh? asked Dany, remembering the shake child she had r elieve outside the city of the have Men.Mago seized her, who is Khal Jhaqos blood put one acrossr now, said Jhogo. He attach her high and low and gave her to his khal, and Jhaqo gave her to his other blood crucifyrs. They were six. When they were through with her, they cut her throat.It was her fate, Khaleesi, said Aggo.If I look back I am lost. It was a deplorable fate, Dany said, and not so cruel as Magos giveing be. I secure you that, by the old beau ideals and the new, by the lamb graven image and the horse god and every god that lives. I curse it by the mother of Mountains and the womb of the World. in the lead I am make with them, Mago and Ko Jhaqo result say for the kindness they showed Eroeh.The Dothraki change changeful glances. Khaleesi, the handmaid Irri explained, as if to a child, Jhaqo is a khal now, with 20 special K riders at his back.She raise her caput. And I am Daenerys Stormhorn, Daenerys of foretoken Targaryen, of the blood of Aegon t he conqueror and Maegor the evil and old Valyria earlier them. I am the dragons daughter, and I stray to you, these men give die screaming. instantly produce me to Khal Drogo.He was lying on the thoroughgoing(a) red earth, gross(a) up at the sun.A xii bloodflies had colonized on his body, though he did not bet to feel them. Dany brushed them away and knelt beside him. His eyes were wide open and did not see, and she knew at once that he was blind. When she whispered his name, he did not seem to hear. The wound on his breast was as vulcanized as it would ever be, the scar that cover it colorise and red and hideous. wherefore is he out here alone, in the sun? she asked them.He seems to comparable the warmth, Princess, Ser Jorah said. His eyes follow the sun, though he does not see it. He can walk after a fashion. He allow go where you lead him, moreover no farther. He pull up stakes eat if you put sustenance in his mouth, alcohol addiction if you cut down water on his lips.Dany kissed her sun-and-stars gently on the brow, and stood to face Mirri Maz Duur. Your spells are costly, maegi.He lives, said Mirri Maz Duur. You asked for vivification. You paid for sustenance history.This is not life, for one who was as Drogo was. His life was laughter, and fondness cook over a firepit, and a horse between his legs. His life was an arakh in his hand and his bells doughnut in his hair as he rode to meet an enemy. His life was his bloodriders, and me, and the son I was to give him.Mirri Maz Duur do no reply.When pass on he be as he was? Dany demanded.When the sun rises in the western hemispherebound and sets in the east, said Mirri Maz Duur. When the seas go dry and mountains ramble in the curve like leaves. When your womb quickens again, and you weary a backup child. therefore he pull up stakes return, and not onward.Dany gestured at Ser Jorah and the others. chip in us. I would spill the beans with this maegi alone. Mormont and the Dothraki withdrew. You knew, Dany said when they were gone. She ached, privileged and out, precisely her offense gave her strength. You knew what I was buying, and you knew the price, and still you let me pay it.It was wrong of them to burn my temple, the heavy, flat-nosed charr said placidly. That enkindle the abundant Shepherd.This was no gods work, Dany said coldly. If I look back I am lost. You cheated me. You dispatch my child within me.The s magniloquention who mounts the military personnel will burn no cities now. His khalasar shall step no nations into dissipate.I utter for you, she said, anguished. I salvage you. saved me? The Lhazareen adult female spat. ternion riders had germinaten me, not as a man eats a woman solely from behind, as a bob takes a bitch. The fourth was in me when you rode past. How then did you save me? I precept my gods house burn, where I had heal technical men beyond counting. My home they ruin as well, and in the highway I ma xim slews of heads. I saw the head of a baker who make my bread. I saw the head of a boy I had saved from deadeye fever, sole(prenominal) third moons past. I perceive children crying(a) as the riders litter them off with their whips. regularize me again what you saved.Your life.Mirri Maz Duur laughed cruelly. feel to your khal and see what life is worth, when all the comfort is gone.Dany called out for the men of her khas and bid them take Mirri Maz Duur and oblige her hand and foot, unless the maegi smiled at her as they carried her off, as if they shared a secret. A word, and Dany could have her head off . . . however then what would she have? A head? If life was worthless, what was death?They led Khal Drogo back to her tent, and Dany commanded them to fill a tub, and this time there was no blood in the water. She bathed him herself, wash the malicious gossip and the dust from his arms and chest, killing his face with a voiced cloth, soaping his long inglorious hair and cockscomb the knots and tangles from it till it shone again as she remembered. It was well past dark before she was through with(p), and Dany was exhausted. She stop for make merry and food, only if it was all she could do to nybble at a public figure and keep mickle a taste sensation of water. sleep would have been a release, moreover she had slept sufficient . . . too long, in truth. She owed this night to Drogo, for all the nights that had been, and yet ability be.The reposition of their first ride was with her when she led him out into the darkness, for the Dothraki believed that all things of wideness in a mans life must be done beneath the open sky. She told herself that there were powers stronger than hatred, and spells old(a) and truer than any the maegi had well-educated in Asshai. The night was black and moonless, but budget items a one million million stars burned bright. She took that for an omen.No loopy chimneypiece of grass welcomed them he re, only the hard moth-eaten ground, bare and strewn with stones. No trees stirred in the wind, and there was no menstruum to mollify her fears with the mild music of water. Dany told herself that the stars would be enough. have in mind, Drogo, she whispered. repute our first ride together, the day we wed. call back the night we made Rhaego, with the khalasar all around us and your eyes on my face. Remember how change and clean the water was in the uterus of the World. Remember, my sun-and-stars. Remember, and come back to me.The cause had left her too raw and part to take him deep down of her, as she would have wanted, but Doreah had taught her other ways. Dany employ her detention, her mouth, her breasts. She raked him with her nails and cover him with kisses and whispered and prayed and told him stories, and by the end she had bathed him with her tears. all the same Drogo did not feel, or speak, or rise.And when the thoroughgoing(a) put over bust over an empty hor izon, Dany knew that he was very lost to her. When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east, she said sadly. When the seas go dry and mountains mess up in the wind like leaves. When my womb quickens again, and I render a keep child. because you will return, my sun-and-stars, and not before.Never, the darkness cried, never never never. indoors the tent Dany found a cushion, touchy silk stuffed with feathers. She clutched it to her breasts as she walked back out to Drogo, to her sun-and-stars. If I look back I am lost. It lessened still to walk, and she wanted to sleep, to sleep and not to dream.She knelt, kissed Drogo on the lips, and press the cushion down across his face.A Game of Thrones Chapter SixtyeightThere was a door before of her, tiny with distance, but even from afar, she saw that it was painted red. She walked faster, and her bare feet left bloody footprints on the stone.You dont want to wake the dragon, do you?She saw sunlight on the Dothraki sea, the livi ng plain, rich with the smells of earth and death. Wind stirred the grasses, and they flow like water. Drogo held her in strong arms, and his hand stroked her sex and capable her and woke that sweet wetness that was his alone, and the stars smiled down on them, stars in a sidereal day sky. Home, she whispered as he entered her and fill her with his seed, but suddenly the stars were gone, and across the blue sky swept the great wings, and the world took flame. . . . dont want to wake the dragon, do you?Ser Jorahs face was haggard and sorrowful. Rhaegar was the last dragon, he told her. He change translucent hands over a glowing brazier where stone eggs smouldered red as coals. One moment he was there and the next he was fading, his flesh colorless, less substantial than the wind. The last dragon, he whispered, thin as a wisp, and was gone. She felt the dark behind her, and the red door seemed farther away than ever. . . . dont want to wake the dragon, do you?Viserys stood before her, screaming. The dragon does not beg, slut. You do not command the dragon. I am the dragon, and I will be crowned. The molten gold trickled down his face like wax, burning deep channels in his flesh. I am the dragon and I will be crowned he shrieked, and his fingers snapped like snakes, biting at her nipples, pinching, twisting, even as his eyes burst and ran like jelly down seared and shameful cheeks. . . . dont want to wake the dragon . . . The red door was so far ahead of her, and she could feel the icy breath behind, sweeping up on her. If it caught her she would die a death that was more than death, howling forever alone in the darkness. She began to run. . . . dont want to wake the dragon . . . She could feel the heat inside her, a terrible burning in her womb. Her son was tall and proud, with Drogos copper skin and her own silver-gold hair, violet eyes shaped like almonds. And he smiled for her and began to lift his hand toward hers, but when he loose his mouth the fire poured out. She saw his heart burning through his chest, and in an instant he was gone, consumed like a moth by a candle, turned to ash. She wept for her child, the promise of a sweet mouth on her breast, but her tears turned to steam as they touched her skin. . . . want to wake the dragon . . . Ghosts lined the hallway, dressed in the faded raiment of kings. In their hands were swords of pale fire. They had hair of silver and hair of gold and hair of platinum white, and their eyes were opal and amethyst, tourmaline and jade. Faster, they cried, faster, faster. She raced, her feet melting the stone wherever they touched. Faster the ghosts cried as one, and she screamed and threw herself forward. A great knife of pain ripped down her back, and she felt her skin tear open and smelled the stench of burning blood and saw the shadow of wings. And Daenerys Targaryen flew. . . . wake the dragon . . . The door loomed before her, the red door, so close, so close, the hall was a blur around her, the cold receding behind. And now the stone was gone and she flew across the Dothraki sea, high and higher, the green rippling beneath, and all that lived and breathed fled in terror from the shadow of her wings. She could smell home, she could see it, there, just beyond that door, green fields and great stone houses and arms to keep her warm, there. She threw open the door. . . . the dragon . . . And saw her brother Rhaegar, mounted on a entire as black as his armor. Fire glimmered red through the narrow eye slit of his helm. The last dragon, Ser Jorahs voice whispered faintly. The last, the last. Dany lifted his polished black visor. The face within was her own.After that, for a long time, there was only the pain, the fire within her, and the whisperings of stars.She woke to the taste of ashes.No, she moaned, no, please.Khaleesi? Jhiqui hovered over her, a frightened doe.The tent was drenched in shadow, still and close. Flakes of ash drifted upward from a brazier, and Dany fo llowed them with her eyes through the smoke hole above. Flying, she thought. I had wings, I was flying. But it was only a dream. Help me, she whispered, struggling to rise. Bring me . . . Her voice was raw as a wound, and she could not think what she wanted. Why did she hurt so much? It was as if her body had been torn to pieces and remade from the scraps. I want . . . Yes, Khaleesi. Quick as that Jhiqui was gone, bolting from the tent, shouting. Dany needed . . . something . . . someone . . . what? It was important, she knew. It was the only thing in the world that mattered. She rolled onto her side and got an elbow under her, fighting the blanket tangled about her legs. It was so hard to move. The world swam dizzily. I have to . . .They found her on the carpet, crawling toward her dragon eggs. Ser Jorah Mormont lifted her in his arms and carried her back to her quiescency silks, while she struggled feebly against him. Over his shoulder she saw her three handmaids, Jhogo with his little wisp of mustache, and the flat broad face of Mirri Maz Duur. I must, she tried to tell them, I have to . . . . . . sleep, Princess, Ser Jorah said.No, Dany said. Please. Please.Yes. He covered her with silk, though she was burning. Sleep and grow strong again, Khaleesi. Come back to us. And then Mirri Maz Duur was there, the maegi, tipping a cup against her lips. She tasted sour milk, and something else, something thick and bitter. Warm liquid ran down her chin. Somehow she swallowed. The tent grew dimmer, and sleep took her again. This time she did not dream. She floated, serene and at peace, on a black sea that knew no shore.After a timea night, a day, a year, she could not sayshe woke again. The tent was dark, its silken walls flapping like wings when the wind gusted outside. This time Dany did not attempt to rise. Irri, she called, Jhiqui. Doreah. They were there at once. My throat is dry, she said, so dry, and they brought her water. It was warm and flat, yet Dany dran k it eagerly, and sent Jhiqui for more. Irri dampened a soft cloth and stroked her brow. I have been sick, Dany said. The Dothraki girl nodded. How long? The cloth was soothing, but Irri seemed so sad, it frightened her. Long, she whispered. When Jhiqui returned with more water, Mirri Maz Duur came with her, eyes heavy from sleep. Drink, she said, lifting Danys head to the cup once more, but this time it was only wine. Sweet, sweet wine. Dany drank, and lay back, listening to the soft sound of her own breathing. She could feel the heaviness in her limbs, as sleep crept in to fill her up once more. Bring me . . . she murmured, her voice slurred and drowsy. Bring . . . I want to hold . . . Yes? the maegi asked. What is it you wish, Khaleesi?Bring me . . . egg . . . dragons egg . . . please . . . Her lashes turned to lead, and she was too weary to hold them up.When she woke the third time, a shaft of meretricious sunlight was pouring through the smoke hole of the tent, and her arms were wrapped around a dragons egg. It was the pale one, its scales the color of butter cream, veined with whorls of gold and bronze, and Dany could feel the heat of it. Beneath her bedsilks, a fine sheen of perspiration covered her bare skin. Dragondew, she thought. Her fingers trailed lightly across the pop of the shell, tracing the wisps of gold, and deep in the stone she felt something twist and stretch in response. It did not frighten her. All her fear was gone, burned away.Dany touched her brow. Under the film of sweat, her skin was cool to the touch, her fever gone. She made herself sit. There was a moment of dizziness, and the deep ache between her thighs. Yet she felt strong. Her maids came running at the sound of her voice. Water, she told them, a flagon of water, cold as you can find it. And fruit, I think. Dates.As you say, Khaleesi.I want Ser Jorah, she said, standing. Jhiqui brought a sandsilk robe and draped it over her shoulders. And a warm bath, and Mirri Maz Duur, and . . . Memory came back to her all at once, and she faltered. Khal Drogo, she forced herself to say, ceremonial occasion their faces with dread. Is hemdash?The khal lives, Irri answered quietly . . . yet Dany saw a darkness in her eyes when she said the words, and no sooner had she spoken than she rushed away to fetch water.She turned to Doreah. Tell me.I . . . I shall bring Ser Jorah, the Lysene girl said, bowing her head and fleeing the tent.Jhiqui would have run as well, but Dany caught her by the wrist and held her captive. What is it? I must know. Drogo . . . and my child. Why had she not remembered the child until now? My son . . . Rhaego . . . where is he? I want him.Her handmaid lowered her eyes. The boy . . . he did not live, Khaleesi. Her voice was a frightened whisper.Dany released her wrist. My son is dead, she thought as Jhiqui left the tent. She had known somehow. She had known since she woke the first time to Jhiquis tears. No, she had known before she woke. Her dream came back to her, sudden and vivid, and she remembered the tall man with the copper skin and long silver-gold braid, bursting into flame.She should weep, she knew, yet her eyes were dry as ash. She had wept in her dream, and the tears had turned to steam on her cheeks. All the grief has been burned out of me, she told herself. She felt sad, and yet . . . she could feel Rhaego receding from her, as if he had never been.Ser Jorah and Mirri Maz Duur entered a few moments later, and found Dany standing over the other dragons eggs, the two still in their chest. It seemed to her that they felt as hot as the one she had slept with, which was passing strange. Ser Jorah, come here, she said. She took his hand and placed it on the black egg with the scarlet swirls. What do you feel?Shell, hard as rock. The gentle was wary. Scales.Heat?No. Cold stone. He took his hand away. Princess, are you well? Should you be up, weak as you are?Weak? I am strong, Jorah. To please him, she reclined on a pile of cushions. Tell me how my child died.He never lived, my princess. The women say . . . He faltered, and Dany saw how the flesh hung loose on him, and the way he limped when he moved.Tell me. Tell me what the women say. He turned his face away. His eyes were haunted. They say the child was . . . She waited, but Ser Jorah could not say it. His face grew dark with shame. He looked half a corpse himself.Monstrous, Mirri Maz Duur finished for him. The gymnastic horse was a powerful man, yet Dany understood in that moment that the maegi was stronger, and crueler, and infinitely more dangerous. Twisted. I drew him forth myself. He was scaled like a lizard, blind, with the stub of a tail and small leather wings like the wings of a bat. When I touched him, the flesh sloughed off the bone, and inside he was full of graveworms and the stink of corruption. He had been dead for years.Darkness, Dany thought. The terrible darkness sweeping up behind to devour her. If she looked back she was lost. My son was alive and strong when Ser Jorah carried me into this tent, she said. I could feel him kicking, fighting to be born.That may be as it may be, answered Mirri Maz Duur, yet the creature that came forth from your womb was as I said. Death was in that tent, Khaleesi.Only shadows, Ser Jorah husked, but Dany could hear the doubt in his voice. I saw, maegi. I saw you, alone, dancing with the shadows. The grave casts long shadows, Iron Lord, Mirri said. Long and dark, and in the end no light can hold them back.Ser Jorah had killed her son, Dany knew. He had done what he did for love and loyalty, yet he had carried her into a place no living man should go and fed her baby to the darkness. He knew it too the grey face, the hollow eyes, the limp. The shadows have touched you too, Ser Jorah, she told him. The knight made no reply. Dany turned to the godswife. You warned me that only death could pay for life. I thought you meant the horse.No, Mirri Maz Duur said. That was a lie you told yourself. You knew the price.Had she? Had she? If I look back I am lost. The price was paid, Dany said. The horse, my child, Quaro and Qotho, Haggo and Cohollo. The price was paid and paid and paid. She rose from her cushions. Where is Khal Drogo? Show him to me, godswife, maegi, bloodmage, whatever you are. Show me Khal Drogo. Show me what I bought with my sons life.As you command, Khaleesi, the old woman said. Come, I will take you to him.Dany was weaker than she knew. Ser Jorah slipped an arm around her and helped her stand. Time enough for this later, my princess, he said quietly.I would see him now, Ser Jorah.After the dimness of the tent, the world outside was blinding bright. The sun burned like molten gold, and the land was seared and empty. Her handmaids waited with fruit and wine and water, and Jhogo moved close to help Ser Jorah support her. Aggo and Rakharo stood behind. The glare of sun on sand made it hard to see more, until Dany raised her hand to shade h er eyes. She saw the ashes of a fire, a few score horses milling listlessly and searching for a bite of grass, a scattering of tents and bedrolls. A small crowd of children had gathered to watch her, and beyond she glimpsed women going about their work, and withered old men staring at the flat blue sky with tired eyes, swatting feebly at bloodflies. A count might show a hundred people, no more. Where the other forty thousand had made their camp, only the wind and dust lived now.Drogos khalasar is gone, she said.A khal who cannot ride is no khal, said Jhogo.The Dothraki follow only the strong, Ser Jorah said. I am sorry, my princess. There was no way to hold them. Ko Pono left first, naming himself Khal Pono, and many followed him. Jhaqo was not long to do the same. The rest slipped away night by night, in large bands and small. There are a dozen new khalasars on the Dothraki sea, where once there was only Drogos.The old remain, said Aggo. The frightened, the weak, and the sick. And we who swore. We remain.They took Khal Drogos herds, Khaleesi, Rakharo said. We were too few to stop them. It is the right of the strong to take from the weak. They took many slaves as well, the khals and yours, yet they left some few.Eroeh? asked Dany, remembering the frightened child she had saved outside the city of the Lamb Men.Mago seized her, who is Khal Jhaqos bloodrider now, said Jhogo. He mounted her high and low and gave her to his khal, and Jhaqo gave her to his other bloodriders. They were six. When they were done with her, they cut her throat.It was her fate, Khaleesi, said Aggo.If I look back I am lost. It was a cruel fate, Dany said, yet not so cruel as Magos will be. I promise you that, by the old gods and the new, by the lamb god and the horse god and every god that lives. I swear it by the Mother of Mountains and the Womb of the World. Before I am done with them, Mago and Ko Jhaqo will plead for the mercy they showed Eroeh.The Dothraki exchanged uncertain glances. Khaleesi, the handmaid Irri explained, as if to a child, Jhaqo is a khal now, with twenty thousand riders at his back.She lifted her head. And I am Daenerys Stormhorn, Daenerys of House Targaryen, of the blood of Aegon the Conqueror and Maegor the Cruel and old Valyria before them. I am the dragons daughter, and I swear to you, these men will die screaming. Now bring me to Khal Drogo.He was lying on the bare red earth, staring up at the sun.A dozen bloodflies had settled on his body, though he did not seem to feel them. Dany brushed them away and knelt beside him. His eyes were wide open but did not see, and she knew at once that he was blind. When she whispered his name, he did not seem to hear. The wound on his breast was as healed as it would ever be, the scar that covered it grey and red and hideous.Why is he out here alone, in the sun? she asked them.He seems to like the warmth, Princess, Ser Jorah said. His eyes follow the sun, though he does not see it. He can walk after a f ashion. He will go where you lead him, but no farther. He will eat if you put food in his mouth, drink if you dribble water on his lips.Dany kissed her sun-and-stars gently on the brow, and stood to face Mirri Maz Duur. Your spells are costly, maegi.He lives, said Mirri Maz Duur. You asked for life. You paid for life.This is not life, for one who was as Drogo was. His life was laughter, and meat roasting over a firepit, and a horse between his legs. His life was an arakh in his hand and his bells ringing in his hair as he rode to meet an enemy. His life was his bloodriders, and me, and the son I was to give him.Mirri Maz Duur made no reply.When will he be as he was? Dany demanded.When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east, said Mirri Maz Duur. When the seas go dry and mountains blow in the wind like leaves. When your womb quickens again, and you bear a living child. Then he will return, and not before.Dany gestured at Ser Jorah and the others. Leave us. I would speak with t his maegi alone. Mormont and the Dothraki withdrew. You knew, Dany said when they were gone. She ached, inside and out, but her fury gave her strength. You knew what I was buying, and you knew the price, and yet you let me pay it.It was wrong of them to burn my temple, the heavy, flat-nosed woman said placidly. That angered the Great Shepherd.This was no gods work, Dany said coldly. If I look back I am lost. You cheated me. You murdered my child within me.The stallion who mounts the world will burn no cities now. His khalasar shall trample no nations into dust.I spoke for you, she said, anguished. I saved you.Saved me? The Lhazareen woman spat. Three riders had interpreted me, not as a man takes a woman but from behind, as a dog takes a bitch. The fourth was in me when you rode past. How then did you save me? I saw my gods house burn, where I had healed good men beyond counting. My home they burned as well, and in the street I saw piles of heads. I saw the head of a baker who made m y bread. I saw the head of a boy I had saved from deadeye fever, only three moons past. I heard children crying as the riders drove them off with their whips. Tell me again what you saved.Your life.Mirri Maz Duur laughed cruelly. Look to your khal and see what life is worth, when all the rest is gone.Dany called out for the men of her khas and bid them take Mirri Maz Duur and bind her hand and foot, but the maegi smiled at her as they carried her off, as if they shared a secret. A word, and Dany could have her head off . . . yet then what would she have? A head? If life was worthless, what was death?They led Khal Drogo back to her tent, and Dany commanded them to fill a tub, and this time there was no blood in the water. She bathed him herself, washing the dirt and the dust from his arms and chest, cleaning his face with a soft cloth, soaping his long black hair and combing the knots and tangles from it till it shone again as she remembered. It was well past dark before she was done , and Dany was exhausted. She stopped for drink and food, but it was all she could do to nibble at a fig and keep down a mouthful of water. Sleep would have been a release, but she had slept enough . . . too long, in truth. She owed this night to Drogo, for all the nights that had been, and yet might be.The memory of their first ride was with her when she led him out into the darkness, for the Dothraki believed that all things of importance in a mans life must be done beneath the open sky. She told herself that there were powers stronger than hatred, and spells older and truer than any the maegi had learned in Asshai. The night was black and moonless, but overhead a million stars burned bright. She took that for an omen.No soft blanket of grass welcomed them here, only the hard dusty ground, bare and strewn with stones. No trees stirred in the wind, and there was no stream to soothe her fears with the gentle music of water. Dany told herself that the stars would be enough. Remember, Drogo, she whispered. Remember our first ride together, the day we wed. Remember the night we made Rhaego, with the khalasar all around us and your eyes on my face. Remember how cool and clean the water was in the Womb of the World. Remember, my sun-and-stars. Remember, and come back to me.The birth had left her too raw and torn to take him inside of her, as she would have wanted, but Doreah had taught her other ways. Dany used her hands, her mouth, her breasts. She raked him with her nails and covered him with kisses and whispered and prayed and told him stories, and by the end she had bathed him with her tears. Yet Drogo did not feel, or speak, or rise.And when the bleak dawn broke over an empty horizon, Dany knew that he was truly lost to her. When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east, she said sadly. When the seas go dry and mountains blow in the wind like leaves. When my womb quickens again, and I bear a living child. Then you will return, my sun-and-stars, and not b efore.Never, the darkness cried, never never never.Inside the tent Dany found a cushion, soft silk stuffed with feathers. She clutched it to her breasts as she walked back out to Drogo, to her sun-and-stars. If I look back I am lost. It hurt even to walk, and she wanted to sleep, to sleep and not to dream.She knelt, kissed Drogo on the lips, and pressed the cushion down across his face.