Game of Thrones: I am Dothraki, not a barbarian

Chapter 98 Never Give Up
At this moment, a strong hand grabbed Arya from the fish's tail. Syrio had found her at some point.

"Kitten, your father is not dead." He said calmly.

Arya's head snapped up, her eyes tearing up as she stared at him. "How did you know?"

Syrio pointed at the flagpole. "If they were dead, these wouldn't be the things hanging on the flagpole."

"But everyone says..."

"Rumors spread faster than truth," Syrio said calmly. "These things were put up to boost morale. I bet your father and the king are in jail somewhere right now, or have already swum back to their fleet!"

Arya was overjoyed, "Really?"

"You thought a warrior as powerful as Ned Stark would die so easily?"

Syrio smiled slightly, "Don't forget, he defeated Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Dawn, at the Tower of Joy. He was the most powerful knight in the Seven Kingdoms!"

"Then father is the best!" Arya's mood softened, and she wiped away her tears. "What should we do then?"

Syrio pointed around. "Use your eyes to see, your ears to listen, and most importantly, your heart to discern. We will find your father!"

Arya nodded. She wanted to become stronger. One day, she would find her father and wash away his shame. The Stark family would not be trampled underfoot!

Finally, she took a reluctant look at the sword on the flagpole, turned around and followed Syrio out of the crowded square.

From the terrace of the Governor's Palace, the Temple of Poseidon was clearly visible, and Garland withdrew his gaze from the trophy hanging on the flagpole.

The formidable Royal Fleet, once the greatest naval power in the Seven Kingdoms and undefeated, was now reduced to a pile of burning sawdust.

Garlan couldn't help but sigh. He hadn't been wronged to be captured alive. After being captured, he had believed that if his father refused to pay the ransom, he would be executed by Rahalo or enslaved.

Not only did Kalaharo not kill him, but he treated him equally and gave him due respect, and even secured a place for him in Karasar.

Only then could he practice swordsmanship with the warriors of Khalasar, drink kumis with the blood guards, and listen to the elders tell legends of the grassland.

Some called him "Garlan Karthor," a high honor among the Dothraki, and he was recognized as an important member of the khalasar.

He devoutly believes in the Seven Gods, adheres to the honor of chivalry, and firmly believes that the light of justice will eventually illuminate the world.

However, he recalled the countless conspiracies and betrayals among the nobles of Westeros. In comparison, the Dothraki, although barbaric, were as sincere as children. They did not believe in the Seven Gods, but never lied, even to him, a "pagan."

In Westeros, without a common faith, people absolutely cannot trust each other.

When the Dothraki invaded the Reach, few people died except for the knights and lords. They occupied Pentos but did not massacre, burn, or loot the city because they believed that the civilians had given the city as a gift to Rhaalor.

Those who give gifts are friends, and friends should not hurt friends. What a simple value!
On the other hand, in Westeros, every siege and conquest resulted in the looting of civilians and even massacres.

Even the Tyrells are no exception!

Garland fell into confusion, subconsciously clutching the seven-sided crystal pendant on his chest, eagerly seeking guidance from the gods.

"Gods, if you really exist, please show yourself to me and give me enlightenment and guidance. Your lamb has lost his way..."

However, what responded to him was not the revelation from the gods, but the familiar fragrance and soft hands.

The soft touch touched Garland's back, and Vera's slender fingers slid into his clothes, along his chest, and gradually moved down.

"Let me show you the way."

It didn't take Vera long to convince Garland to forget the Seven Gods.

…Night enveloped the sea, and the salty sea breeze slapped the torn sails.

All eight main battleships of the royal fleet were destroyed, and half of the eighty-oared Dromen were also destroyed. At this moment, Robert was sitting cross-legged on the deck of one of the eighty-oared Dromen, his whole body wet, and water droplets on his messy black beard.

He tilted his head back and gulped down the entire bottle of sour red wine, then smashed the empty bottle onto the deck, breaking it into pieces.

"Dothraki bastard!" Robert pounded his fist on the deck and shook his head.

This wine is really strong, one bottle is equivalent to three bottles. If Ned hadn't dragged him onto the boat, he might have drowned.

The King of the Seven Kingdoms drowned in the sea, and who knows what the bards will say about him!

"Why are there wildfires in Pentos?"

"Your Majesty," Ned said gravely, "that was not wildfire. I heard no explosion. Wildfires explode."

"By the Seven Gods, I will chop off Rhaelor's head and hang it on the Red Keep!" Robert raged, his voice raging. "I will burn the Dothraki Sea of ​​Grass to a scorch, I will have his officers torn into pieces, and I will give his women to every one of my warriors!"

Jaime Lannister leaned against the side of the ship, his golden hair fluttering slightly in the night breeze, and there was a hint of gloating in his expression.

He was sent to the supply ship by Robert and was unable to participate in the battle, which saved him from a devastating defeat.

"Kingslayer! What are you doing here?" Robert's face turned purple.

"Your Majesty, I didn't say anything..."

"Don't think I don't know what you're thinking!" Robert interrupted, his eyes blazing. "Your disgusting lion face is just like that woman's!"

"Get out of my sight!" Robert roared. "If I see that face again, I'll throw you to the fish!"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

James saluted and turned to leave. After taking a few steps, a hint of contempt appeared on his face.

Ned stood aside, frowning and saying, "That's enough, Robert. Retreat."

"Seven hells! Ned, are you going to just stand for this?" Robert glared at Ned, then climbed up and grabbed Ned's collar. "That barbarian burned my soldiers to death, and you don't even want revenge?"

"I seek revenge, but we have already lost." Ned broke free from the king. "The capital ship of the royal fleet has been destroyed. How many ships do we have left? Can the remaining eighty-oared dromen help you capture Pentos?"

"As long as I'm alive, the war is not over! I can commandeer merchant ships! I still have 30,000 troops, I will never lose!"

Robert's eyes were red as he kicked over a wooden barrel in anger. The barrel hit the side of the ship and stopped with a dull thud. The soldiers around him were silent and shrank their necks, fearing that they would get into trouble.

Ned interrupted impatiently, "You still want to rush into Pentos with a group of demoralized soldiers?"

"I crushed Rhaegar's chest at the Three Forks, and I have done great deeds! If I lose this time, all my former glory will be gone. People will only remember this defeat, and say that Robert Baratheon was a defeated king!"

"Ugh……"

Ned sighed heavily. Robert was so angry that he was not even awake during the voyage. He was sleeping and drinking. Even if Rahalo could not kill him, the sour red wine would take his life.

It seems that there is only one way to make Robert lead the fleet away from this troubled place immediately, and that is to tell him the truth, the truth about his three children.

This blow, coupled with the military failure, made Ned dare not imagine what would happen when Robert found out, but it was better than waiting here and letting the soldiers die in vain.

"His Majesty……"

(End of this chapter)