Daenerys stiffened.
A flicker of mixed emotion crossed her beautiful violet eyes.
Of course she remembered the Dothraki.
At the very beginning, Khal Drogo's Khalasar had been the largest known.
He had roughly forty thousand cavalry, and besides its warriors, a large Khalasar usually had an equal or even greater number of noncombatants.
Drogo's tribe alone might have numbered eighty to a hundred thousand people.
And hundreds of Khalasars were scattered across the Dothraki Sea, ranging in size from a few dozen people to tens of thousands.
Many Khals also claimed to command anywhere from several thousand to ten or twenty thousand cavalry.
Such numbers were unmatched anywhere in Essos.
If not for Lynn, she would nearly have married one of those savages.
"The Dothraki?"
She instinctively clutched Lynn's sleeve.
"They... they're brutal, and there are so many of them."
When she had wandered Essos with Viserys, she had witnessed the power of the Dothraki.
They swept through like a plague of locusts, a torrent of cavalry capable of destroying everything.
"Brutal?"
Lynn smiled, turned, and gently patted the back of Daenerys's hand.
"The Dothraki believe in strength alone."
"A man who can summon blizzards, raise the dead to fight for him, and ride a dragon."
Lynn looked into Daenerys's eyes.
"What do you think I am, in their eyes?"
Daenerys froze.
"They revere the strong."
She murmured those words.
"Exactly." Lynn nodded.
"Do you think they'd dare draw their blades against me?"
In the hall of the Golden Pyramid.
Tyrion staggered over, his face flushed with drink and tinged with unease.
"I heard you talking about the Dothraki."
He let out a drunken hiccup.
"Don't underestimate them. Those madmen on horseback will do anything for gold."
"If those fools in Meereen really stake everything they have, the Dothraki will