The Mountain of Ice and Fire

A strange man was sent over from the large merchant ship, a strange man who attracted everyone's attention.

The man was taller than all the generals around Daenerys, exceeding 2.10 meters in height, with skin as black as asphalt, a round belly shaped like a huge pebble, and tangled bone-white whiskers like a lion's mane winding down his face, reaching his abdomen, with flame-patterned tattoos covering his cheeks and forehead.

The Imp, Tyrion Lannister, looked at this strange man and noticed that only his teeth were free of the flame tattoos.

Upon seeing Daenerys, the strange man immediately knelt on one knee: "Your Majesty, the Queen, I have finally found you."

"Who are you?" Daenerys asked.

Jorah Mormont, the Great Bear, placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, standing in front of Her Majesty the Queen, wary of this strange man.

"Your Majesty, my name is Marqiro, and I have come to find Your Majesty on the orders of my master, High Priest Benerro."

The Ragged Prince, leader of the Windblown, whispered behind Daenerys: "Your Majesty, Benerro is the High Priest of the Red Temple of Volantis. His influence in Volantis is equivalent to that of the Triarchs, and in the hearts of the people, Benerro's influence is unique. In the army of the Volantene Triarchs, most of the soldiers are his believers, and they regard High Priest Benerro as the son of the Red God R'hllor."

*

The Ragged Prince was over sixty years old. His subordinates also called him the Tatters King. He liked to use precise High Valyrian to give orders to his subordinates, "Depart now." High Valyrian allowed the Ragged Prince to relive his identity and status as the Prince of Pentos, nourishing his parched and resentful soul.

The Ragged Prince spoke softly, with sad eyes and huge eye bags. His hair and armor were silver-gray, but his cloak was sewn from different colored fabrics, hence the name Ragged. In the ship's hold was a tall gray warhorse, the Prince's mount. Countless strips of cloth trailed from the warhorse's hind legs, all cut from the robes of enemies personally slain by the Prince and sewn together.

In the year 262 of Aegon's Conquest, thirty-eight years ago, the previous Prince had just been beheaded by the magisters, and the then twenty-three-year-old Ragged Prince was elected as the new Prince of Pentos by the magisters. The Ragged Prince dared not accept the invitation of the magisters, because according to Pentos' tradition, when times were bad, the Prince of Pentos would be executed to appease the anger of the Sky God, the Earth God, and the Sea God.

The Ragged Prince chose to travel far to the Disputed Lands, never returning to his homeland of Pentos. To save his life, he had joined the Second Sons, the Iron Shield Company, and the Maiden's Men. Eighteen years later, he and five others founded the Windblown. Of the six founders of the Windblown, he was the only one still alive.

Tyrion thought the Ragged Prince was an elegant nobleman.

*

Daenerys patted Jorah Mormont on the shoulder, allowing the Great Bear to stand aside, and she faced this tall strange man, whom she had to look up to: "Priest Marqiro, High Priest Benerro sent you to find me?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"What for?"

"You need a Red God priest as a guide to help you foresee the future, defeat enemies, and overcome evil."

Daenerys had no fondness for priests, and this wariness and hostility stemmed from her experience in the eastern city of Qarth.

In Qarth, the warlock Pyat Pree wanted to seize her three dragons, colluding with Xaro Xhoan Daxos, one of the Thirteen. Xaro first lured Daenerys and her bloodriders away with a banquet, then sent people to kill her servants. Pyat Pree successfully stole her three young dragons and imprisoned Daenerys in the House of the Undying, attempting to control Daenerys as his dragon slave. In the end, the young dragons breathed flames, killing the blue-lipped warlock Pyat Pree and burning the chains that locked the dragons and Daenerys, and Daenerys and her three dragons regained their freedom.

"Priest Marqiro, I have a resourceful Hand, brave and skilled generals, fearless Kingsguard, an invincible Unsullied army, a powerful Iron Fleet, and, in addition, I have three dragons. Thank you for your kindness, Priest, but I don't think I need a priest's advice."

"Your Majesty, the night is long and the road is treacherous. The Lord of Light is the only true god. The counselors and generals around you do not know that Your Majesty lacks a real army to assist you."

"My army exceeds forty thousand, Priest. They come from Slaver's Bay, the Unsullied, mercenary companies, the Iron Islands, and the Dothraki Sea."

"I saw in the flames that Your Majesty has no real cavalry."

"My cavalry exceeds two thousand five hundred."

"Not enough. An army of one hundred thousand cavalry is waiting on the Dothraki Sea for the Mother of Dragons to summon."

Daenerys was slightly stunned!

During the war to liberate Slaver's Bay, she had gathered hundreds of Dothraki under her banner, these people were her khalasar.

But Daenerys had not gone to conquer the real Dothraki cavalry. She liberated Slaver's Bay and spent her efforts stabilizing the political situation before heading west, which was also what her courtiers hoped for.

"Your Majesty, the Dothraki are swift and fierce horses, but you are a dragon. Wherever dragonfire reaches, Dothraki warriors will submit. When one hundred thousand Dothraki cavalry cross the Narrow Sea, the Iron Throne will be within reach."

Daenerys's heart pounded!

She looked at Tyrion Lannister, who looked slightly uneasy. She looked at the Great Bear, and Jorah Mormont bowed slightly. She looked at Varys, who lowered his bald head and clasped his hands in his white sleeves, clasping them even tighter.

None of the courtiers around her had ever suggested that she conquer the one hundred thousand Dothraki cavalry.

One hundred thousand Dothraki cavalry crossing the Narrow Sea would be a feat that would go down in history! Unprecedented!

"Priest Marqiro, what else can you do?"

"I can see the revelations of the Red God in the flames, thereby foreseeing the future, Your Majesty."

"Oh, then tell me, will we pass through the ruins of Valyria this time?"

*

The ruins of Valyria are famous for their complex water conditions, and no one dares to venture into them. Four hundred years ago, the Valyrian Empire met its doomsday when earthfire erupted from the Fourteen Flames, turning everything in the empire to ashes. The Valyrian peninsula was also torn apart, with a portion drifting into the sea, becoming the dreaded ruins of Valyria.

To this day, the Valyrian Gulf is constantly filled with smoke and fire, and magma from the depths of the earth occasionally emerges from the ruins. The magma temperature is extremely high, and even the seawater is extremely hot, and many adventurers have died in the ruins of Valyria. Rumor has it that in the ruins of Valyria, there are countless gold and jewels buried from the empire, as well as the Dragonhorn that can command dragons.

*

"Your Majesty, your fleet will continue to advance, bypassing the ruins of Valyria. And you will go north, riding a dragon into the Dothraki Sea, and then take one hundred thousand Dothraki cavalry along the Valyrian road to Pentos. Your cavalry and your fleet will meet in Pentos."

"Your Majesty will not ride a dragon north," Jorah Mormont said with a stern look. "That's too dangerous. Your Majesty needs the Kingsguard to protect her, and she needs a retinue to follow her."

"The Dothraki will never abandon their horses to cross the sea," said Qotho, the bloodrider, his face still pale. "Your Majesty, do not put yourself in danger. After Drogo died, there is no powerful khal on the plains. The Dothraki Sea has lost its rules and awe, and the current situation is very chaotic."

"Qotho, you can board a wooden horse, and so can other Dothraki," Marqiro said slowly.

Wooden horse was the Dothraki's name for a ship.

The priest's aura was like a mountain, his calmness like ice, and his gaze like a blade. This inspired awe in some generals and soldiers.

"Priest, I am Her Majesty's bloodrider. If Her Majesty wants me to die, I will not hesitate, but for a large number of Dothraki to leave the plains and cross the sea is absolutely impossible. I understand them," Qotho said.

Daenerys had made up her mind, but she still wanted to see the reaction of her courtiers.

"Ser Barristan, I would like to hear your opinion."

"Your Majesty traveling north alone is too dangerous, unless Your Majesty lets the bloodriders and the Kingsguard go with her," Barristan Selmy said.

"Even if the bloodriders and the Kingsguard go together, facing the Dothraki who are now caught in a great khal war, the strength is too weak," Tyrion Lannister objected.

"Hand, I have dragons!" Daenerys reminded the courtiers.

"Dragons can make the Dothraki fear, can make the khals submit, but cannot make the khals abandon the plains. Their roots are in the plains, and the khals will refuse to cross the sea," said another bloodrider, Rakharo.

"Kill the khals, and the Dothraki cavalry will follow Your Majesty across the sea. There is no doubt about that," Marqiro said with certainty. His tone carried an unquestionable declaration.

Varys had been watching coldly. As a eunuch, he owed his condition to a warlock. The warlock had tricked Varys into his house with a small amount of money, cut off Varys's little brother with a knife, and then kicked him out, leaving him to fend for himself.

Varys harbored deep hostility and fear towards priests and warlocks who talked about gods and spirits. He had seen the magical power of some warlocks, an unknown and mysterious power that Varys still felt lingering fear about. On the Isle of Lys, many dark warlocks lived, posing as monks and priests, deceiving young men and women, and sacrificing the organs or lives of young men and women to their gods in scenes that were bloody and evil.

Varys said softly, "Priest Marqiro, why have you come here to guide our Queen, help her defeat her enemies and achieve victory? What do you want to gain from it?"

"I came on orders, Lord Varys."

Varys's heart stirred. This was the first time he had met him, and he could call out his name. If people with such magical power were evil, they would be the most dangerous enemies. Their magic could not be resisted and was impossible to defend against.

"On the orders of High Priest Benerro?"

"Yes, Lord!"

"Then, on whose orders does High Priest Benerro act? Why did he send you to assist our Queen? And what does he want to gain?"

"High Priest Benerro is the son of the Red God R'hllor, and the supreme High Priest acts according to the will of the Red God."

"So, the Red God sent you here?"

"I came on the orders of High Priest Benerro."

"Your Majesty, whether it is the Seven Gods or the Old Gods, gods have never answered my prayers. I do not believe in gods, nor do I believe in the Red God."

Regardless of the courtiers' doubts and sharp tongues, Marqiro's expression never changed. The more calm and composed he was, the more wary and uneasy the courtiers became.

"Lord Varys, who told King Robert that Daenerys had married Khal Drogo and was pregnant?" Marqiro said calmly.

These words were like a huge stone falling into the sea, stirring up huge waves in the hearts of Varys and Mormont.

Daenerys looked at Varys.

Varys was shocked. Why did this priest know these secrets? As cunning as he was, he could not help but change his expression slightly. This subtle change, falling into Daenerys's eyes, was like a drop of black ink on white paper.

Marqiro, this guy he had never met, why would he know about things in the royal palace across the Narrow Sea? This guy must have come prepared and was a dark sorcerer. Dark sorcerers always had some amazing methods and possessed unknown evil powers.

Varys's eyes met Daenerys's, and he saw the sharpness in Daenerys's eyes. She understood that Marqiro's words were not lies.

"Back then, whose little birds informed that the assassins were closing in step by step, almost killing Princess Daenerys and Prince Viserys every time? It was you, Lord Varys!"

This sentence was even more ruthless, but the situation was too complicated, and many of the witnesses involved had already died, the leader of the Golden Company of Braavos, the manager of the Iron Bank, Oberyn Martell of Dorne... Varys had no way to defend himself.

He had to find a way to kill Marqiro, and he must not let this guy gain Daenerys's trust. He was sowing discord, but Varys could not refute what he said.

The Imp frowned slightly: "Your Majesty, Varys was a vassal of King Robert back then, the Master of Whisperers. If it were me, I would also do my best to work and eliminate open or potential enemies for the king I swore allegiance to."

"Your Majesty, during that time, I was also the captain of King Robert's Kingsguard," Barristan Selmy said, his right fist pressed tightly against his left chest, bowing his head.

Varys knelt down, right on the deck. He admitted to everything and begged for Her Majesty's forgiveness.

The sharp light in Daenerys's eyes gradually softened: "Varys, your crime of attempting to kill me is temporarily noted. I hope you can atone for your sins."

"Varys will keep it in mind, Your Majesty." There was imperceptible sweat on Varys's shiny forehead.

The courtiers were all in awe of Her Majesty the Queen's majesty.

Marqiro was still very calm. His emotions were like the eternally winter lands that would never have any changes: "Your Majesty, in the market under the Dothraki Sacred Mountain, who was it that ferreted out the poisoner for you? But why did he know that the wine merchant was the poisoner? Why, no matter where you go, do the assassins always follow? Who is it that has been informing the outside world from by your side?"

Marqiro's gaze fell on Jorah Mormont.

Clang!

Jorah Mormont drew his sword, and the long sword pressed against Marqiro's chest, but Marqiro was not afraid. He was still calm and unchanged, as if death to him was just a breeze, a drop of water.

“Stop, Jorah, I need the truth!” Daenerys said softly but firmly. “Ser Jorah, in Vaes Dothrak, you uncovered the poisoner and saved my life; after my sun-and-stars died, you rescued me from Drogo’s bloodriders. In Slaver's Bay, you infiltrated the city through the filthy sewers and helped me win the war. You have saved me many times. Without you, there would be no Daenerys, but you lied, deceived, betrayed me…” Daenerys took a deep breath, suppressing her anger and the pain in her heart. “I want the truth.”

Jorah Mormont’s neck flushed red. “I tried to tell you the truth, I told you dozens of times. I warned you that Xaro and Pyat Pree could not be trusted, I warned you—”

“You warned me about everyone except yourself.” Jorah’s arrogance infuriated her. He should be humble. He should kneel and beg for my forgiveness like Varys, he should admit his crimes. “I remember you once said to me—no one can be trusted except Jorah Mormont… and you yourself have been a spy for the Spider all along!”

“I am not anyone’s spy. Yes, I took money from the eunuch, learned the ciphers, and wrote a few letters, that’s all—” Jorah was still trying to excuse himself. Compared to Varys, this arrogant knight was quite foolish.

“That’s all? You spied on me, betrayed me!”

“Once…” he conceded reluctantly. “I stopped long ago, Your Grace.”

“When? When did you stop? Was it when my dragons became rideable, when I had eight thousand Unsullied, when I had slave soldiers, or when Asha and Theon came to join me…”

“I wrote a report in Qarth—”

“Qarth?” Daenerys had hoped the time was much earlier. “What did you write in Qarth? That you were my man and would no longer participate in their schemes?”

Jorah turned his head away, unable to meet her eyes any longer.

“After Drogo died, you wanted me to go with you to Yi Ti and the Jade Sea. Was that your idea, or Robert’s?”

“It was to protect you,” he insisted, refusing to admit his initial depravity. “To keep you away from them. I know what kind of vipers they are…”

“Vipers? Then what are you, Ser?”

“Don’t deny it, Ser,” Barristan said sharply. “I was there when Varys reported the news to the Small Council. Eddard Stark prevented Robert from ordering the assassination of Her Grace and her child, but even when Eddard threatened to resign as Hand, Robert still insisted on ordering the deaths of Her Grace and her child. You were the source of the information, Ser Jorah. Littlefinger and the eunuch said perhaps you should do it yourself to obtain the king’s pardon.”

“Lies.” Ser Jorah’s face darkened, and he flatly denied it. “I would never do that… Daenerys, I was the one who stopped you from drinking the poisoned wine.”

“Indeed, but how did you know the wine was poisoned?”

“I… I just suspected… The caravan brought a letter from Varys…” He finally knelt down. The damn big man, why didn't he kneel down and admit his mistakes earlier? Each word of defense pushed him further away from the Queen's heart, but the Great Bear was still trying to excuse his mistakes. Saying this caused irreparable and serious consequences. “If I hadn’t informed, someone else would have. You know that.”

These words shattered Daenerys’s heart! She had trusted him implicitly, like family. She had hoped he would kneel down, admit his mistakes, and beg for forgiveness…

“I know you betrayed me.” She caressed her belly, her tone becoming cold and ruthless. Her son, Rhaego, had died in the womb. “I know that because of you, a poisoner tried to harm me and my son. I know these things, Ser Jorah.”

“No… no…” He shook his head. “I didn’t want to… Forgive me. You must forgive me.”

“Must?”

He should have begged for forgiveness from the beginning, admitted his mistakes, not denied them, and offered no excuses.

Now Daenerys found that she couldn't forgive him as she had originally intended.

This is Jorah, my brave Great Bear, my never-failing right-hand man. Without him, I would have died long ago, a voice whispered in Daenerys’s ear, forgive him, forgive him, forgive him, but…

“I cannot forgive you,” she said, “I cannot.”

“You forgave Varys… Daenerys,” he said, “I love you deeply.”

That's right. You are destined to experience three betrayals. One for blood, one for gold, and one for love.

“The gods do nothing without purpose. The fact that you did not die in battle means that the gods have a use for you. But I have no use for you. I don't want you around me. You are banished, Ser.”

“No,” he reached out to her. “Daenerys, please, listen to me…”

“Do not presume to touch me or say my name again. I will give you a small boat. If I find you still on my warship tomorrow morning, I will have Strong Belwas twist off your head.” She turned her back to him, her skirts swirling.

She couldn't look at his face. She knew that if she looked at him again, she would cry and choose to forgive him. Great Bear, why didn't he tell her the truth proactively? How long did he intend to hide it from her? She had been determined to forgive him, but he kept making excuses to evade responsibility.

“If I hadn’t informed, someone else would have. You know that.” These words were like a sharp knife, piercing Daenerys’s heart.

“Take this liar away.” She ordered Mormont, her voice carrying a hint of barely perceptible weeping!

Her eyes were slightly red!