Game of Thrones: I am Dothraki, not a barbarian

Chapter 48 The Price of Life

The hall was already filled with kneeling nobles and merchants, all with their heads bowed and shoulders twitching slightly, but no one dared to cry out loud.

Tanya was taken to the front, with a little boy of six or seven years old beside her. He clutched the corners of her clothes tightly with both hands, and his body was trembling like a frightened deer.

She touched the boy's orange-red curly hair, a confident smile still on her face, and glanced across the hall, as if she didn't care about her current situation at all.

Laharo's eyes swept across the crowd, finally landing on three men.

The family crests on their chests were different, but they all wore a golden stag brooch, so they must be Renly Baratheon's people.

Rhallor stepped forward and looked down at them. "You are Baratheon's bannermen. What are you doing in the Reach?"

One of them, wearing red armor plated with silver, raised his head and said coldly, "I am Robert Royce. I have come to the Long Table Hall to block the waterway by order of King Robert."

The corner of Laharo's mouth curled up slightly. These people were the heroes who helped him make a fortune.
"Drag him out and kill him."

Since Tanya knew the whereabouts of the gold coins, she didn't tell them simply because she wanted to gain more benefits. There would be no point in keeping them.

Littlefinger gave him a great gift from Rahalo, and he had no way to repay him, so he decided to just silence them to prevent them from talking nonsense when they got back.

Besides, they are not locals and they definitely don’t have any gold coins on them.

Without saying a word, the warriors stepped forward and dragged the three men out like dead dogs.

The three struggled desperately, shouting, "You barbarians! Let us go! We are Lord Renly's bannermen!"

The shouting gradually faded away, and after the sound of the scimitar entering the flesh, the world suddenly became quiet. The smell of blood filled the hall, and the merchants and nobles were all silent, almost scared to death.

Suddenly, an obese old noble climbed up at a speed that was inconsistent with his size, hugged Laharo's leather boots, and cried.

"Sir! I am willing to hand over my fiefdom and even my two daughters! I only beg you to spare my life!"

The warrior kicked him back, blood flowed from the corner of his mouth, but he didn't even dare to make a sound.

Seeing that the atmosphere was almost set, Laharo clapped his hands, attracting everyone's attention, and said loudly:

"Next, let's talk about the price of life.

Everyone writes a number on a piece of paper. Whoever can come up with this amount of money before dawn tomorrow can buy his own life.

One person, one piece of paper, one life.

Those who have no money are allowed to borrow. Whoever offers the highest price between the two spouses will survive.

The lowest number of anybody, like all three of them.”

The hall was eerily quiet, torches crackling, and the nobles and merchants' faces were pale. No one said a word, and they all picked up parchment and tremblingly wrote down the ransom they could afford.

The only sounds in the air were the scraping of the quill across the paper and the muffled breathing.

After they finished writing, the warriors took them back to their respective houses or ships to get the money.

Everything was going well until two richly dressed ladies were brought out.

"I am the mistress of Count Orton," one of them said loudly, raising her chin proudly. "My ransom should be paid by Orton."

As soon as these words were spoken, everyone immersed in the atmosphere of fear was stunned for a moment, and suddenly burst into suppressed laughter, and couldn't help revealing an expression of gloating.

I would rather give up my life than my wealth!

Another young woman also stood up, with a matter-of-fact expression, "My ransom should also be paid by Earl Orton."

wow...

There was another low laugh from the crowd.

Orton's face instantly turned red, veins on his forehead bulged, and he roared, "Stop talking nonsense!"

Tanya sat aside, her arms folded across her chest, her face as cold as the ice of the North, her lips curled up in a mocking manner:
"My dear, your mistresses seem to think you are very rich!" Suddenly, the laughter in the hall became louder.

"Everyone, be serious! Don't you know what situation you are in now?"

Orton was furious and glared at the two women, his teeth chattering.

Laharo sat behind the table, crossed his legs, propped up his chin with one hand, and asked leisurely, "Count Orton, I don't want to kill anyone. How much are the three of your lives worth combined?"

Orton has already lost face in front of these nobles, and he must never bow his head again in front of these barbarians!
Thinking of this, he gritted his teeth and said, "Dream on! I won't give you a single gold coin!"

Laharo chuckled, glanced at Tanya, and said casually, "Really? It seems that your beautiful wife disagrees with you."

Orton's face changed drastically and he clenched his fists tightly.

It's not that he didn't want to say it, but the property of the Marevis family had long been handed over to Tanya to manage. He really didn't know how much money there was or where it was kept.

He never thought that this barbarian would blackmail him in this way. At this point, the number he could give was definitely less than Tanya's. He was dead!

He stiffened his neck and said righteously, "The Marevus family will never surrender!"

The castle was filled with Laharo's men, and not even a fly could fly out. He was very sure that the gold was in the castle, so he winked at Lazar.

"Kill him."

Lazar drew his scimitar, grabbed Count Orton by the back of his collar and pulled him out.

"and many more!"

Tanya suddenly spoke up to stop them, saying in Dothraki, "I not only know where the Tyrells' two hundred thousand gold dragons are, but I also know where the Marevises' gold coins are."

Rahalo praised Tanya. "Tanya from Myr, you are indeed very sensible. Tell me, where is my gold?"

Tanya raised her chin slightly, her eyes sweeping over the Dothraki warriors behind Rhaelor, a faint smile playing on her lips: "You guys, bring Odon with you and follow me. I will take you there myself."

After saying that, she comforted her son and asked him to stay in the hall obediently. Then she twisted her waist slightly and walked out of the hall with her long legs.

Laharo nodded to Lazar and the others, then followed with Orton.

When the group reached the end of the corridor, Tanya stopped, slowly turned around, and a meaningful look appeared in her eyes.

"But I have one condition."

"Danya, I admire your courage," Laharo said slowly, "but you are not qualified to negotiate terms with me. I believe that you are smart enough to understand this."

"I understand, my Lord Kao, but my conditions are very simple..."

She slowly walked towards Lazar, her fingers slowly moving down his strong chest, landing on his abdominal muscles and squeezing them hard, "I like strong men."

She grabbed Lazar's belt, walked up to Jiku, grabbed his braid, and wrapped it around her hand.

"And you."

She turned around and said softly, "I think they are much more interesting than you, dear."

She turned back to Rhahalo and said in Dothraki, "My Lord Khal, may I?"

Laharo was not planning to take her in, and before coming, he had promised Lazar that he would find them a noblewoman so that they could share the happiness, so he nodded.

"Tania! You crazy woman!"

Orton's face turned as green as the vegetables in the field. He struggled violently, and the anger and humiliation in his eyes were about to burst out, as if he wanted to eat someone.

"Dear, have you ever considered my feelings over the years?" Tanya stopped looking at him and met Laharo's gaze.
"I will tell these two warriors the location of every gold coin in the castle."

With that, she pulled Lazar and Jiku into the next room and slammed the door.

(End of this chapter)