A song of Fire and Blood

Chapter 54– The Road to Qarth

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POV: Daenerys Targaryen – The Red Waste

Daenerys rode until her legs ached, her silver mare galloping across the barren landscape. The Red Waste was unforgiving—a land of death, where no water flowed and no shade could be found.

Her companions rode beside her.

Ser Jorah Mormont, the exiled knight, ever watchful.

Doreah, her faithful handmaiden, though less sure on horseback.

They had enough food and water to last them for a time, but not forever.

We cannot stop, Daenerys thought. Not for long.

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Learning to Fight, Learning the Truth

When they rested, Daenerys trained.

Jorah taught her how to wield a sword, how to parry and strike, how to move with precision rather than brute force.

"You have the instincts," Jorah admitted. "But instincts alone won't save you."

"Then I will learn," she replied, determined.

Between lessons, she pressed him for knowledge.

"Tell me about Westeros," she asked one night.

He spoke of the Seven Kingdoms, of its lords and kings, of Robert Baratheon's rebellion.

"What of my father?" she asked. "What was he truly like?"

Jorah's expression darkened.

"King Aerys was feared. He was… unpredictable. Some say he was driven mad by betrayal. Others say he was always mad."

"And my brother Rhaegar?"

"He was loved." Jorah's voice softened. "A warrior, a prince, a dreamer. He wanted to bring change… but he died before he could."

Daenerys stared into the dying fire, imagining the brother she never knew.

"And Aerion?" she asked, her violet eyes flickering with curiosity.

Jorah hesitated.

"There are many rumors," he said carefully. "Some say he is the son of a red witch, born under a bleeding star. Others say he has blood-red eyes and wields a blade of fire."

"Is he mad?"

"No one knows. But he is a warrior without equal, and a brilliant commander. Unlike Viserys, he did not proclaim himself King."

Daenerys frowned.

"Then what does he want?"

Jorah shook his head. "That, I do not know."

Before he could continue, a sound echoed through the night.

The clatter of hooves.

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Dothraki Hunters

From behind the stone outcrop, four Dothraki riders appeared.

Jorah's hand went to his sword.

"Bloodriders," he murmured, tensing.

Daenerys's blood ran cold.

The riders dismounted, their eyes dark and hungry.

One spoke in the Dothraki tongue, sneering at her.

"The Moon of my Life has fled," he said mockingly. "And the Khal has sent us to bring her back."

Jorah moved first.

With deadly precision, he slipped behind one of the riders and slit his throat in an instant.

The others reacted—drawing their arakh blades.

Two charged Jorah, while the last one lunged for Daenerys.

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Daenerys Fights for Her Life

Daenerys raised her sword, blocking the first strike.

The Dothraki warrior was strong, fast, merciless.

She countered, sidestepped, attacked—but he was more experienced, his blade striking harder each time.

She felt her strength waning.

Her arm ached.

Her breath came in short gasps.

And then—he disarmed her.

Daenerys stumbled, falling onto the red sands.

The Dothraki grinned, raising his arakh for the killing blow—

And screamed as a knife plunged into his back.

Doreah stood behind him, her eyes wide with terror, her hands shaking.

The Dothraki fell, lifeless.

At that moment, Jorah finished the last two, blood dripping from his blade.

He turned to Daenerys.

"Are you hurt?"

She shook her head, still catching her breath.

The dead warrior at her feet—she knew him.

One of Drogo's bloodriders.

There would be more.

"We have to move," Jorah said, urgently.

Daenerys nodded, her hands tightening into fists.

"Faster than before."

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Arrival in Qarth

They rode for days, never stopping for too long.

Daenerys trained harder, forced herself to grow stronger, forced herself to forget her pain.

But their food dwindled.

The Red Waste stretched endlessly.

When she thought they would starve, the horizon changed.

Walls of black stone, towers of ivory, and gates carved like great beasts rose from the sands.

"Qarth," Jorah said.

A city of wealth. A city of secrets. A city of warlocks, merchants, and liars.

Daenerys straightened in her saddle, her face unreadable.

"Let's see if they will welcome a dragon."

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End of Chapter.