Game of Thrones: I am Dothraki, not a barbarian

Chapter 29 Night Song City

After the banquet, Laharo just returned to his room and lay down when he felt a breeze blowing in the corner.

The next second, Nymeria walked out from the shadows, wearing a low-cut lace dress. She looked like a polite lady, but no one knew what dangerous weapon was hidden under her skirt.

"why is it you again?"

"Why can't it be me?"

Nymeria put on a completely different expression, smiled sweetly, and came over to sit on the edge of the bed. "The Sand Snakes want to tame the Grass Sea Horse, and they need to find the right way. How about I disguise myself as a Targaryen girl?"

Before he finished speaking, his fingers had already reached out, stroking Laharo's angular abdominal muscles, all the way south.

Laharo grabbed her wrist and said, "Don't touch me. I don't want to be poisoned for no reason."

Nymeria didn't struggle. Instead, she took advantage of the situation and moved closer to him, her eyes gleaming. "Besides poisoning, I have a more interesting plan."

Laharo frowned slightly. "What plan?"

"Don't worry, I won't eat you." Nymeria was amused by Rhallor's vigilance. "Prince Doran won't allow you to act recklessly in Dorne. According to the agreement, I must act with you."

Upon hearing this, Rahalo said unhappily, "I'm not interested in bringing trouble to the battlefield."

Nymeria lowered her body, revealing a breathtaking curve, and put her lips close to his ear, her breath carrying a hint of sweet fragrance.

"Don't worry, I'm not a nuisance. The Sand Snakes are more valuable than you think, even more deadly than the scimitar in your hand."

Laharo knew he couldn't refuse, so he rolled his eyes and said, "Since you're here to help me, then do me a favor. If you do it well, you'll be the first to receive the credit. I'll personally tell Prince Oberyn about your achievements!"

Rahalo pushed Nymeria aside, stood up, walked to the long table, and pointed at the words "Nightsong City" on the map.

"Help me deliver a letter to Roland Storm, the bastard of Nightsong City. I want him to help me open the city gate!"

Nightsong is located on the border of Dorne, at the northern foot of the Red Mountains. If you go north from Dorne, whether you take the Prince's Pass or the Bone Road, you will need to pass through Nightsong.

Moreover, Nightsong is located deep in the heart of the Riverlands, close to Mander. As long as it is controlled here, Rhallor can easily enter the most prosperous areas of the Tyrell family.

Interestingly, the Dornish Marches are not under the jurisdiction of the Prince of Dorne. The lords here are all loyal to Storm's End, but the title of "Defender of the Marches" has always been held by the Duke of Highgarden.

This separation of powers and checks and balances stabilized the rule of the Iron Throne, but it also led to constant wars in the region and caused great suffering to the people.

Lord Bryce Cullen of Nightsong was also loyal to Storm's End, but Lord Renly Baratheon of Storm's End was far away in King's Landing serving as Lord Justice. By the time he received the news and organized his troops, it would definitely be too late to return to support.

So Rhallor only needs to face the "Guardians of the Borderlands", that is, the army of Mace Tyrell, Duke of Highgarden.

Moreover, Laharo also knew that Roland Storm was the illegitimate brother of Earl Bryce Cullen and was not eligible to inherit the family territory and title, nor could he participate in family decision-making.

Roland has always coveted Bryce's title of Earl, and Bryce does not trust Roland either.

If Lahalo could win over Roland and promise to get rid of Bryce for him, Roland would become a chess piece in Lahalo's hands.

Nymeria was lying on Rahalo's bed, posing. Upon hearing this, she jumped up with an incredible expression.

"A surprise attack on Nightsong?" she scoffed. "Are you mad? That's the southern gateway to the Reach. The Tyrells will not sit idly by. Even if we succeed, how can we hold it? The Dothraki are not good at defending cities."

"I didn't plan to defend it, but let Roland defend it for me."

Nymeria snorted softly, threw up a dagger and caught it steadily, staring at Rhaelor with her big, bright eyes.

"Why would Roland help you?" Rhallor said firmly, "Of course it's because of his ambition to become an earl. The Reach isn't as open-minded as Dorne, and bastards have no status.

His greatest wish is to gain recognition from others and to obtain the status and power that belongs to the legitimate son."

Nymeria sneered, "He won't betray his family for an empty promise."

Laharo said in a deep voice, "Then I will leave him with no other options."

Nymeria looked the handsome young Dothraki horse king up and down, wanting to cut him open and see what was going on in his head.

Unbelievable, could it be that his intelligence capabilities surpass those of the Martell family?

A horse king who is familiar with Westeros, blessing to those arrogant guys in the north!

...

A few days later, the warehouse in Nightsong City was filled with a musty smell, and cobwebs hung in the corners. Dim light leaked in from the small window, illuminating a strong figure.

Roland Storm was bent over, busy among a pile of account books. He had an almost disfigured face, the result of leprosy in his childhood.

He was wearing a worn-out suit of armor, the seams stained with dirt and emitting a smell of rust.

There was a sound of footsteps coming from outside the warehouse door, and then the door was kicked open.

He subconsciously raised his head and saw his brother Bryce Cullen walking in. He was wearing a gorgeous silk robe, a jewel-studded sword at his waist, and a black nightingale emblem on a yellow background on his chest, representing the family motto, sweet as a song.

Following behind him were several attendants, all of whom were arrogant, dressed in bright clothes, and had malicious smiles on their faces.

Bryce stood in front of Roland and looked down at him. "Look at our Roland, he's busy with these servants' affairs all day long. Tsk tsk, no wonder, the little bastard and the thief dwarf are born to be inferior people."

The servants burst into laughter, and some even covered their noses deliberately, as if Roland had some bad smell on him.

Roland's face turned pale and he clenched his fists, but he didn't look up. He continued to flip through the account book in his hand, his quill pen rustling, pretending to be indifferent.

But Bryce didn't intend to let him go easily.

He took a step forward and said in a shrill voice, "Roland, you're just a superfluous little bastard, and an ugly one at that. I advise you not to have any unreasonable expectations."

Roland finally stopped and suppressed his anger. "Brother, kindness and mercy are the qualities that a noble person should have. Humiliating others will only bring shame to the gods."

Bryce seemed to have heard something funny and couldn't help laughing.

He took a step forward and slapped Roland on the shoulder with such force that Roland staggered.

"Why should I show mercy to a little bastard?" Bryce leaned close to him and said in a voice that only the two of them could hear: "Roland, you'd better behave yourself, otherwise, I have plenty of ways to make you disappear!"

After saying this, Bryce turned and left, followed by his servants. One of them turned back and spat a mouthful of thick phlegm on the ground in contempt.

The footsteps gradually faded away, and the warehouse returned to silence. Roland raised his head and looked at the towering walls of Nightsong City outside the window, with a hint of unwillingness in his eyes.

Why should people be divided into high and low classes according to their origins?

A corrupt person like Bryce, no matter how noble his bloodline is, is not worthy of being the Earl of Nightsong City!

He should kneel down and repent before the gods!
(End of this chapter)