Game of Thrones: I am Dothraki, not a barbarian

Chapter 35 Reluctant

Laharo glanced at the mountain of coins. The warriors weighed them briefly and found about 1,700 pounds of gold coins, about 100,000 coins, and even more silver coins, at least 1 million coins.

If a small border town has so much wealth, how much money would there be in the Baratheon and Lannister vaults?
Rhallor couldn't help but think of Lord Greyjoy's family motto: "Strength is better than hard work."

This really hits the nail on the head. Your Majesty is definitely a man with a story!

Lazar stood aside, staring at the gold coins, his eyes flashing with a fiery fire.

"These Andari are really rich..."

As Rahalo's closest bloodguard, he was knowledgeable and experienced. He could enter Rahalo's vault whenever he wanted and grab a handful of money and leave. But now, even he was shocked by the countless wealth.

The Dothraki have always despised money, preferring to exchange it for livestock, weapons, and slaves. But everyone knows the power of money; it can buy power and win wars!
Rhallor went to the jewelry chest and picked up a Valyrian steel necklace with a dragon carved into it in a lifelike manner.

He put the necklace in his arms and picked out a pearl necklace from another box. The pearls were round and full, each the size of a pigeon egg, and they shone with a soft luster in the firelight.

"Next, it matches your skin color." The pearl necklace drew an arc in the air and fell into Nymeria's arms.

Nymeria was stunned for a moment, looking down at the pearl necklace in her hand, feeling mixed emotions.

Her purpose in following Rahalo was simply to benefit Dorne. She only saw Rahalo as a powerful weapon, and seducing him was just a necessary means to achieve her goal.

But now, Laharo caused ripples in her heart.

"Why did you give me a gift?" she asked.

Seeing a row of finely crafted crossbows hanging on the wall, Laharo took one down to play with it, then said without turning around, "Stop talking nonsense. Do you want one? If not, I'll keep it and give it to someone else."

"Tsk, only giving me one piece with so many treasures, how stingy!" Namelia quickly put the pearl necklace around her neck with a happy expression on her face.

As the daughter of Prince Oberyn, she had seen better pearls, but it also depended on who was giving the gift.

She had never truly liked any man, but the wild Dothraki horse king in front of her made her heart beat faster involuntarily.

Laharo just concentrated on fiddling with the crossbow in his hand, stringing it, and aiming.

This is a high-end weapon made by Mil craftsmen. It is heavy to hold and powerful. The handle is a manual winder similar to a bicycle pedal. It has more power than a crank-type crossbow. It can shoot three crossbow arrows at a time, has a long range, and has great lethality.

"These crossbows are good and easy to carry." He pointed to the armor on the wall and said to Lazar, "There are twenty-three suits of chain mail, more than a dozen suits of ring mail, and two suits of plate mail. Take all these and give them to the warriors who are willing to wear armor."

As for bulky things, such as silk and artworks, he was too lazy to even look at them.

These things will only affect his marching speed.

"Bring two hundred men to transport this gold and silver. If you can't carry it away, simply distribute it to the civilians in the city." Rahalo continued, "Go deep into the Red Mountains and find a place to hide these things. We can take them with us when we leave."

He turned to Roland and said, "The remaining equipment and the items stripped from the dead are enough for you to recruit a guard. It's all yours."

Roland breathed rapidly, and Laharo's method made him feel a chill in his heart.

He kills people without any scruples and distributes such good things to the common people. They will spread his name, and bards will make this story into a ballad and sing it for thousands of years. The nobles of Nightsong City will become the villains in the story!

Bryce stared blankly at the empty vault. The wealth accumulated by his family for generations was looted, as if his soul had been sucked out.

The warriors packed the treasures in sacks and wooden boxes, preparing to transport them to the Red Mountains in batches.

Laharo looked at his busy men, his lips curled up slightly. This raid had yielded a rich harvest, not only a vast amount of gold and silver, but also control of Roland.

From now on, Stormland and Riverbend are like two beautiful women who have washed themselves clean and are lying on the bed, at his disposal!
An hour later, Nightsong was completely under Rahalor's control. Over three hundred prisoners were imprisoned in the dungeons, and warriors took control of the city walls, various fortresses, and road junctions.

At night, silence reigned, save for the occasional neighing of warhorses. Rahaloban entered Bryce's bedroom. A large oak bed dominated the center of the room, covered with thick silk sheets and soft feather pillows. A log burned brightly in the fireplace, crackling with a crisp sound.

He was sitting at his desk, a piece of parchment spread out before him, writing a letter by candlelight.

At this moment, the door quietly opened a crack, and Nymeria walked in without making any sound.

Jiku, who was guarding the gate, just glanced at her and let her in without stopping her.

She was a guest of the khal and an ally of the khalasar, with the right to move freely.

As soon as Nymeria got closer, she found that Rhallor was actually writing, and she couldn't help but stop.

This Dothraki barbarian who I thought only knew how to ride a horse and kill people, can actually write!

The letter she was asked to deliver last time turned out to be written by Rhallor, and she thought it was written by Viserys. How ridiculous! She doesn't even have such good writing skills!

Rhahalo was not only a powerful warrior, but also a shrewd ruler.

Nymeria's contempt for him completely disappeared, replaced by respect and a hint of inexplicable affection.

She took a deep breath and tiptoed towards Rahalo. She was wearing only a piece of chain mail that Rahalo had worn, which was loosely wrapped around her petite body. The cold and hard metal pressed against her hot and soft body, and strands of white could be seen faintly through the silver-black iron rings.

The firelight behind her illuminated her slender, toned calves and jade-like insteps, and her creamy skin was like delicate porcelain.

Nymeria simply stopped pretending and walked directly to Rahalo, spread her legs, and sat on his lap casually.

The two were so close that they could hear each other's breathing.

Rhaharo was 1.9 meters tall and strong, while Nymeria was only 1.5 meters tall and looked particularly petite.

"Don't disturb me while I'm writing." Laharo said with disgust.

Nymeria pulled a dagger from beneath her mail and held it to Rhaelor's neck, a dangerous glint in her eyes.

"Submit to me, or I will kill you."

Laharo glanced at her, grabbed her wrist and twisted it, snatching the dagger away. Then he hugged her, turned around, and threw her onto the bed.

Nymeria drew an arc in the air and fell heavily on the bed. Not only was she not angry, but she giggled:
"Some people say that the more clothes I wear, the more threatening I become. But now, I pose no threat to you at all."

She propped herself up, supported her chin with her right hand, and stroked the pearl necklace on her neck with her left hand. As she watched Laharo walking towards her step by step, her smile became more charming.

She had wanted to conquer the Dothraki horse king, but now, she wanted to be conquered by him.

"If you want to sleep, go sleep over there and don't bother me." Laharo fell heavily on the bed, closed his eyes, and soon began to breathe heavily.

Nymeria's eyebrows were raised, and she was furious!
He pulled out a dagger from somewhere, and rode on him, pressing the dagger against his chest.

"I am going to kill you!"

"Stop it."

Rhahalo turned over impatiently, pushing Nymeria down, and soon began to snore.

Nymeria put away the dagger, lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling angrily, with resentment written all over her face.

(End of this chapter)