A Game of Thrones Chapter Sixty-four

DaenerysThe go circled Khal Drogo s poorly, their wings buzzing, a low thrum at the edge of apprehending that fill up D any(prenominal) with dread.The sun was gritty and pitiless. Heat shimme sanguine in waves off the stony discovercrops of low hills. A thin finger of hidrosis trickled slowly between Danys swollen breasts. The al mavin snuff its were the steady plop of their horses hooves, the rhythmic tingle of the bells in Drogos hair, and the distant voices unlesst joint them.Dany watched the locomote.They were as large as bees, gross, purplish, glistening. The Dothraki c each(prenominal)ed them personal line of c trigger-happyitflies. They lived in marshes and mo ribund pools, sucked ancestry from man and horse a homogeneous, and laid their bollock in the dead and dying. Drogo hated them. Whenever nonpareil came draw near him, his handwriting would shoot out quick as a striking snake to close or so it. She had never grabn him miss. He would h sure-enough(a) th e fly interior his huge clenched fist long nice to hear its frantic buzzing. Then his fingers would tighten, and when he opened his hand again, the fly would be comp permitely a red smear on his palm.Now one crept crosswise the rump of his st every in allion, and the horse gave an angry flick of its cornerstone to brush it a look. The separatewises flitted about Drogo, closer and closer. The khal did non react. His eyeball were fixed on distant br testify hills, the reins slack in his hands. Beneath his aggravatorted vest, a smear of fig blocks and caked blue mud c all overed the h subdivision on his breast. The herbwo men had made it for him. Mirri Maz Duurs stick on had itched and force outed, and he had separate it off six days ago, cursing her for a maegi. The mud beplaster was more soothing, and the herbwomen made him poppy drink as well. Hed been drinking it heavily these past 3 days when it was non poppy wine, it was fermented m atomic number 18s milk or pelt beer.Yet he scarcely touched his food, and he thrashed and groaned in the night. Dany could see how drawn his wait had be inject. Rhaego was keen in her belly, kicking standardised a stallion, thus far even so that did non stir Drogos inte stick around as it had. Every morning her eyeball found new-fashioned lines of pain on his face when he woke from his profuse sleep. And now this silence. It was making her panicky. Since they had mounted up at dawn, he had express non a word. When she spoke, she got no answer merely a grunt, and non even that much since midday.One of the bank lineflies inflicted on the supererogatory skin of the khals berm. A nonher, circling, touched worst on his pet and crept up toward his mouth. Khal Drogo swayed in the saddle, bells ringing, as his stallion unplowed onward at a steady toss playing pace.Dany pressed her heels into her silver and rode closer. My master, she enounce softly. Drogo. My sun-and-stars.He did not seem to hear. The airfly crawled up at a lower place his drooping moustache and settled on his cheek, in the crease beside his nose. Dany gasped, Drogo. clumsily she reached over and touched his arm.Khal Drogo reeled in the saddle, tilted slowly, and devolve heavily from his horse. The flies garbled for a heartbeat, and past circled defend to settle on him where he lay.No, Dany said, reining up. regardless of her belly for once, she scrambled off her silver and ran to him.The bewray under him was brown and dry. Drogo cried out in pain as Dany knelt beside him. His breath rattled harshly in his pharynx, and he looked at her without recognition. My horse, he gasped. Dany brushed the flies off his chest, smashing one as he would shake up. His skin burned-over beneath her fingers.The khals bloodriders had been checking well(p) stilt them. She comprehend Haggo shout as they galloped up. Cohollo bound from his horse. Blood of my blood, he said as he dropped to his knees. The other two unploughed to their mounts.No, Khal Drogo groaned, struggling in Danys accouterments. Must ride. Ride. No.He condemnable from his horse, Haggo said, gaze down. His broad face was impassive, but his voice was leaden.You essential not show that, Dany told him. We have ridden far enough today. We go away camp here.Here? Haggo looked around them. The land was brown and sere, inho splashable. This is no camping ground.It is not for a woman to bid us halt, said Qotho, not even a khaleesi.We camp here, Dany repeated. Haggo, tell them Khal Drogo commanded the halt. If any ask why, conjecture to them that my time is near and I could not continue. Cohollo, bring up the slaves, they essential gravel up the khals camp out at once. QothoYou do not command me, Khaleesi, Qotho said.Find Mirri Maz Duur, she told him. The godswife would be walking among the other honey Men, in the long column of slaves. withdraw her to me, with her chest.Qotho glared down at her, his eyes hard as flint. The maegi. He spat. This I entrust not do.You volition, Dany said, or when Drogo wakes, he allow hear why you defied me.Furious, Qotho wheel his stallion around and galloped off in animosity . . . but Dany knew he would re unblock with Mirri Maz Duur, however scant(p) he world power desire it. The slaves erected Khal Drogos tent beneath a jagged outcrop of blueen gemstone whose rear gave approximately relief from the heat of the afternoon sun. Even so, it was stifling under the sandsilk as Irri and Doreah inspection and repaired Dany walk Drogo inside. Thick patterned carpets had been laid down over the ground, and pillows scattered in the corners. Eroeh, the timid girl Dany had rescued outside the mud walls of the Lamb Men, set up a brazier. They stretched Drogo out on a distort mat. No, he muttered in the Common Tongue. No, no. It was all he said, all he seemed capable of swaning.Doreah unhooked his decoration belt and stripped off his vest and leg gings, plot of ground Jhiqui knelt by his feet to undo the laces of his riding sandals. Irri extremityed to leave the tent flaps open to let in the breeze, but Dany forbade it. She would not have any see Drogo this way, in delirium and weakness. When her khas came up, she posted them outside at guard. Admit no one without my leave, she told Jhogo. No one.Eroeh glanced apprehension ripey at Drogo where he lay. He dies, she whispered.Dany slapped her. The khal cannot die. He is the become of the stallion who mounts the world. His hair has never been shock. He compose wears the bells his father gave him.Khaleesi, Jhiqui said, he pull down from his horse.Trembling, her eyes full of sudden tears, Dany saturnine away from them. He fell from his horse It was so, she had seen it, and the bloodriders, and no doubt her handmaids and the men of her khas as well. And how umpteen more? They could not keep it secret, and Dany knew what that meant. A khal who could not ride could not ru le, and Drogo had fallen from his horse.We mustiness bathe him, she said stubbornly. She must not give up herself to despair. Irri, have the tub brought at once. Doreah, Eroeh, find piddle, still water, hes so hot. He was a fire in human skin.The slaves set up the heavy slob tub in the corner of the tent. When Doreah brought the initiative c crush of water, Dany crocked a length of silk to lay across Drogos brow, over the burning skin. His eyes looked at her, but he did not see. When his lips opened, no words break loose them, whole a moan. Where is Mirri Maz Duur? she demanded, her patience rubbed raw with fear.Qotho entrust find her, Irri said.Her handmaids filled the tub with tepid water that stank of sulfur, wiseening it with jars of acer snapy oil and handfuls of crushed smokestack leaves. While the bath was being prepared, Dany knelt awkwardly beside her lord husband, her belly great with their child within. She undid his braid with anxious fingers, as she had o n the night hed addressn her for the first time, beneath the stars. His bells she laid aside carefully, one by one. He would want them again when he was well, she told herself.A breath of air entered the tent as Aggo poked his fountain betoken by means of the silk. Khaleesi, he said, the Andal is come, and begs leave to enter.The Andal was what the Dothraki called Ser Jorah. Yes, she said, rising clumsily, take aim him in. She trusted the proverbhorse. He would know what to do if anyone did.Ser Jorah Mormont ducked through and through the door flap and waited a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dimness. In the fierce heat of the south, he wore loose trousers of mottled sandsilk and open-toed riding sandals that laced up to his knee. His scabbard hung from a twisted horsehair belt. Under a tail white vest, he was bare-chested, skin reddened by the sun. Talk goes from mouth to ear, all over the khalasar, he said. It is said Khal Drogo fell from his horse.Help him, Dany ple aded. For the love you judge you bear me, help him now.The horse cavalry knelt beside her. He looked at Drogo long and hard, and then at Dany. Send your maids away.Wordlessly, her throat tight with fear, Dany made a gesture. Irri herded the other girls from the tent.When they were alone, Ser Jorah draw his dagger. Deftly, with a delicacy surprising in such a big man, he began to scrape away the threatening leaves and dried blue mud from Drogos chest. The plaster had caked hard as the mud walls of the Lamb Men, and like those walls it cracked easily. Ser Jorah stone-broke the dry mud with his natural language, pried the chunks from the flesh, naked off the leaves one by one. A foul, sweet smell rose from the wound, so thick it close to choked her. The leaves were crusted with blood and pus, Drogos breast black and glistening with corruption.No, Dany whispered as tears ran down her cheeks. No, please, gods hear me, no.Khal Drogo thrashed, repugning some spiritual world enemy . Black blood ran slow and thick from his open wound.Your khal is good as dead, Princess.No, he cant die, he mustnt, it was only a cut. Dany besidesk his large callused hand in her own small ones, and held it tight between them. I pull up stakes not let him die . . . Ser Jorah gave a bitter laugh. Khaleesi or queen, that command is beyond your power. Save your tears, child. shout out for him tomorrow, or a year from now. We do not have time for grief. We must go, and quickly, before he dies.Dany was lost. Go? Where should we go?Asshai, I would recite. It lies far to the south, at the end of the known world, that men say it is a great port. We result find a ship to take us endorse to Pentos. It testament be a hard journey, impinge on no mistake. Do you trust your khas? Will they come with us?Khal Drogo commanded them to keep me safe, Dany replied uncertainly, but if he dies . . . She touched the tribal sheik of her belly. I dont understand. Why should we flee? I am khalees i. I carry Drogos heir. He will be khal after Drogo . . . Ser Jorah frowned. Princess, hear me. The Dothraki will not follow a suckling babe. Drogos efficacy was what they bowed to, and only that. When he is gone, Jhaqo and Pono and the other kos will fight for his place, and this khalasar will devour itself. The winner will want no more rivals. The boy will be taken from your breast the moment he is born. They will give him to the dogs . . . Dany hugged herself. But why? she cried plaintively. Why should they slaughter a teeny-weeny baby?He is Drogos password, and the crones say he will be the stallion who mounts the world. It was prophesied. advance to cleanup the child than to risk his fury when he grows to manhood.The child kicked inside her, as if he had heard. Dany remembered the invoice Viserys had told her, of what the Usurpers dogs had done to Rhaegars children. His son had been a babe as well, even so they had ripped him from his mothers breast and dashed his head against a wall. That was the way of men. They must not combat injury my son she cried. I will order my khas to keep him safe, and Drogos bloodriders willSer Jorah held her by the shoulders. A bloodrider dies with his khal. You know that, child. They will take you to Vaes Dothrak, to the crones, that is the last duty they owe him in liveliness . . . when it is done, they will join Drogo in the night lands.Dany did not want to go concealment to Vaes Dothrak and live the rest of her emotional state among those terrible old women, yet she knew that the knight spoke the truth. Drogo had been more than her sun-and-stars he had been the shield that kept her safe. I will not leave him, she said stubbornly, miserably. She took his hand again. I will not.A move at the tent flap made Dany turn her head. Mirri Maz Duur entered, bowing low. Days on the march, trailing behind the khalasar, had remaining(a) her limping and haggard, with blistered and bleeding feet and hollows under her eyes . fag her came Qotho and Haggo, carrying the godswifes chest between them. When the bloodriders caught sight of Drogos wound, the chest slipped from Haggos fingers and crashed to the bedeck of the tent, and Qotho swore an oath so foul it seared the air.Mirri Maz Duur analyse Drogo, her face still and dead. The wound has festered.This is your work, maegi, Qotho said. Haggo laid his fist across Mirris cheek with a meaty roar that drove her to the ground. Then he kicked her where she lay.Stop it Dany screamed.Qotho pulled Haggo away, saying, Kicks are too merciful for a maegi. select her outside. We will stake her to the earth, to be the mount of every passing man. And when they are done with her, the dogs will use her as well. Weasels will tear out her entrails and carrion crows banquet upon her eyes. The flies off the river shall lay their eggs in her womb and drink pus from the ruins of her breasts . . . He cut into iron-hard fingers into the soft, wobbly flesh under the gods wifes arm and hauled her to her feet.No, Dany said. I will not have her harmed.Qothos lips skinned back from his crooked brown teeth in a terrible mockery of a smile. No? You say me no? Better you should pray that we do not stake you out beside your maegi. You did this, as much as the other.Ser Jorah stepped between them, loosening his longsword in its scabbard. Rein in your tongue, bloodrider. The princess is still your khaleesi. exactly while the blood-of-my-blood still lives, Qotho told the knight. When he dies, she is nobody.Dany felt a tightness inside her. in front I was khaleesi, I was the blood of the dragon. Ser Jorah, summon my khas.No, said Qotho. We will go. For now . . . Khaleesi. Haggo followed him from the tent, scowling.That one means you no good, Princess, Mormont said. The Dothraki say a man and his bloodriders share one life, and Qotho sees it ending. A dead man is beyond fear.No one has died, Dany said. Ser Jorah, I may have contract of your vane. Best go do n your armor. She was more frightened than she dared admit, even to herself.The knight bowed. As you say. He strode from the tent. Dany turned back to Mirri Maz Duur. The womans eyes were wary. So you have fostered me once more.And now you must fulfill him, Dany said. revel . . . You do not ask a slave, Mirri replied sharply, you tell her. She went to Drogo burning on his mat, and gazed long at his wound. assume or tell, it ca-cas no matter. He is beyond a healers skills. The khals eyes were closed. She opened one with her fingers. He has been dulling the hurt with milk of the poppy.Yes, Dany admitted.I made him a poultice of firepod and sting-me-not and bound it in a lambskin.It burned, he said. He tore it off. The herbwomen made him a new one, wet and soothing.It burned, yes. in that respect is great healing magic in fire, even your beardless men know that. bother him another(prenominal) poultice, Dany begged. This time I will make certain he wears it.The time for that is past, my lady, Mirri said. All I can do now is ease the dark road before him, so he might ride painless to the night lands. He will be gone by morning.Her words were a knife through Danys breast. What had she ever done to make the gods so cruel? She had finally found a safe place, had finally tasted love and hope. She was finally personnel casualty home. And now to lose it all . . . No, she pleaded. Save him, and I will free you, I swear it. You must know a way . . . some magic, some . . . Mirri Maz Duur sat back on her heels and studied Daenerys through eyes as black as night. in that respect is a spell. Her voice was quiet, scarcely more than a whisper. But it is hard, lady, and dark. s ethereally would say that death is cleaner. I learned the way in Asshai, and paid secure for the lesson. My teacher was a bloodmage from the Shadow Lands.Dany went crisp all over. Then you sincerely are a maegi . . . Am I? Mirri Maz Duur smiled. Only a maegi can save your rider now, specie Lady.Is there no other way?No other.Khal Drogo gave a shuddering gasp.Do it, Dany blurted. She must not be afraid she was the blood of the dragon. Save him.There is a price, the godswife warned her.Youll have gold, horses, some(prenominal) you like.It is not a matter of gold or horses. This is bloodmagic, lady. Only death may pay for life. finish? Dany wrapped her arms around herself protectively, rocked back and by on her heels. My death? She told herself she would die for him, if she must. She was the blood of the dragon, she would not be afraid. Her brother Rhaegar had died for the woman he loved.No, Mirri Maz Duur promised. non your death, Khaleesi.Dany trembled with relief. Do it.The maegi nodded solemnly. As you speak, so it shall be done. yell your servants.Khal Drogo writhed feebly as Rakharo and Quaro lowered him into the bath. No, he muttered, no. Must ride. Once in the water, all the strength seemed to leak out of him.Bring his horse, Mirri Maz Duur commanded, and so it was done. Jhogo led the great red stallion into the tent. When the carnal caught the scent of death, he screamed and reared, rolling his eyes. It took three men to subdue him.What do you mean to do? Dany asked her.We claim the blood, Mirri answered. That is the way.Jhogo edged back, his hand on his arakh. He was a youth of sixteen years, whip-thin, fearless, quick to laugh, with the faint shadow of his first mustachio on his upper lip. He fell to his knees before her. Khaleesi, he pleaded, you must not do this thing. Let me kill this maegi.Kill her and you kill your khal, Dany said.This is bloodmagic, he said. It is forbidden.I am khaleesi, and I say it is not forbidden. In Vaes Dothrak, Khal Drogo slew a stallion and I ate his heart, to give our son strength and courage. This is the same. The same.The stallion kicked and reared as Rakharo, Quaro, and Aggo pulled him close to the tub where the khal floated like one already dead, pus and blood course from his wound to stain th e bathwaters. Mirri Maz Duur chanted words in a tongue that Dany did not know, and a knife appeared in her hand. Dany never saw where it came from. It looked old beat red bronze, leaf-shaped, its web covered with ancient glyphs. The maegi move it across the stallions throat, under the noble head, and the horse screamed and shuddered as the blood poured out of him in a red rush. He would have collapsed, but the men of her khas held him up. power of the mount, go into the rider, Mirri sang as horse blood swirled into the waters of Drogos bath. Strength of the beast, go into the man.Jhogo looked terrified as he struggled with the stallions weight, afraid to touch the dead flesh, yet afraid to let go as well. Only a horse, Dany thought. If she could buy Drogos life with the death of a horse, she would pay a thousand times over.When they let the stallion fall, the bath was a dark red, and nothing showed of Drogo but his face. Mirri Maz Duur had no use for the carcass. Burn it, Dany t old them. It was what they did, she knew. When a man died, his mount was killed and placed beneath him on the funeral pyre, to carry him to the night lands. The men of her khas dragged the carcass from the tent. The blood had gone everywhere. Even the sandsilk walls were spotted with red, and the rugs under cull were black and wet.Braziers were lit. Mirri Maz Duur tossed a red powder onto the coals. It gave the smoke a spicy scent, a pleasant enough smell, yet Eroeh fled sobbing, and Dany was filled with fear. But she had gone too far to turn back now. She sent her handmaids away. Go with them, Silver Lady, Mirri Maz Duur told her.I will stay, Dany said. The man took me under the stars and gave life to the child inside me. I will not leave him.You must. Once I begin to sing, no one must enter this tent. My song will wake powers old and dark. The dead will dance here this night. No living man must look on them.Dany bowed her head, helpless. No one will enter. She bent over the tub, over Drogo in his bath of blood, and kissed him lightly on the brow. Bring him back to me, she whispered to Mirri Maz Duur before she fled.Outside, the sun was low on the horizon, the sky a bruised red. The khalasar had made camp. Tents and sleeping mats were scattered as far as the eye could see. A hot wind blew. Jhogo and Aggo were digging a firepit to burn the dead stallion. A crowd had gathered to stare at Dany with hard black eyes, their faces like masks of overcome copper. She saw Ser Jorah Mormont, wearing mail and leather now, sweat beading on his broad, balding forehead. He pushed his way through the Dothraki to Danys side. When he saw the scarlet footprints her boots had left on the ground, the color seemed to d come down from his face. What have you done, you little fool? he asked hoarsely.I had to save him.We could have fled, he said. I would have seen you safe to Asshai, Princess. There was no need . . . Am I truly your princess? she asked him.You know you are, gods s ave us both.Then help me now.Ser Jorah grimaced. Would that I knew how.Mirri Maz Duurs voice rose to a high, ululating mourning that sent a shiver down Danys back. Some of the Dothraki began to mutter and back away. The tent was aglow with the light of braziers within. Through the blood-spattered sandsilk, she glimpsed shadows moving.Mirri Maz Duur was dancing, and not alone.Dany saw naked fear on the faces of the Dothraki. This must not be, Qotho thundered.She had not seen the bloodrider return. Haggo and Cohollo were with him. They had brought the hairless men, the eunuchs who healed with knife and needle and fire.This will be, Dany replied.Maegi, Haggo growled. And old CoholloCohollo who had bound his life to Drogos on the day of his birth, Cohollo who had always been kind to herCohollo spat full in her face.You will die, maegi, Qotho promised, but the other must die first. He drew his arakh and made for the tent.No, she shouted, you mustnt. She caught him by the shoulder, but Qotho shoved her aside. Dany fell to her knees, crossing her arms over her belly to protect the child within. Stop him, she commanded her khas, kill him.Rakharo and Quaro stood beside the tent flap. Quaro took a step forward, reaching for the handle of his whip, but Qotho spun gainly as a dancer, the trend arakh rising. It caught Quaro low under the arm, the bright sharp steel biting up through leather and skin, through muscle and rib bone. Blood fountained as the young rider reeled backward, gasping.Qotho wrenched the blade free. Horselord, Ser Jorah Mormont called. Try me. His longsword slid from its scabbard.Qotho whirled, cursing. The arakh moved so fast that Quaros blood flew from it in a fine spray, like rain in a hot wind. The longsword caught it a foot from Ser Jorahs face, and held it quivering for an instant as Qotho howled in fury. The knight was clad in chainmail, with gauntlets and greaves of lobstered steel and a heavy gorget around his throat, but he had not though t to don his helm.Qotho danced backward, arakh whirling around his head in a shining blur, flickering out like lightning as the knight came on in a rush. Ser Jorah parried as best he could, but the slashes came so fast that it seemed to Dany that Qotho had four arakhs and as many arms. She heard the crunch of sword on mail, saw sparks fly as the long curved blade glanced off a gauntlet. Suddenly it was Mormont stumbling backward, and Qotho leaping to the attack. The left side of the knights face ran red with blood, and a cut to the hip opened a gash in his mail and left him limping. Qotho screamed taunts at him, calling him a craven, a milk man, a eunuch in an iron suit. You die now he promised, arakh chill through the red twilight. Inside Danys womb, her son kicked wildly. The curved blade slipped past the straight one and bit deep into the knights hip where the mail gaped open.Mormont grunted, stumbled. Dany felt a sharp pain in her belly, a wetness on her thighs. Qotho shrieked triumph, but his arakh had found bone, and for half a heartbeat it caught.It was enough. Ser Jorah brought his longsword down with all the strength left him, through flesh and muscle and bone, and Qothos forearm dangled loose, flopping on a thin cord of skin and sinew. The knights conterminous cut was at the Dothrakis ear, so savage that Qothos face seemed almost to explode.The Dothraki were yelling, Mirri Maz Duur wailing inside the tent like nothing human, Quaro pleading for water as he died. Dany cried out for help, but no one heard. Rakharo was battle Haggo, arakh dancing with arakh until Jhogos whip cracked, loud as thunder, the lash coiling around Haggos throat. A yank, and the bloodrider stumbled backward, losing his feet and his sword. Rakharo sprang forward, howling, swinging his arakh down with both hands through the top of Haggos head. The call for caught between his eyes, red and quivering. Someone threw a stone, and when Dany looked, her shoulder was torn and bloody . No, she wept, no, please, stop it, its too high, the price is too high. More stones came flying. She tried to crawl toward the tent, but Cohollo caught her. Fingers in her hair, he pulled her head back and she felt the cold touch of his knife at her throat. My baby, she screamed, and perhaps the gods heard, for as quick as that, Cohollo was dead. Aggos arrow took him under the arm, to stuff his lungs and heart.When at last Daenerys found the strength to state her head, she saw the crowd dispersing, the Dothraki stealing silently back to their tents and sleeping mats. Some were saddling horses and riding off. The sun had set. Fires burned throughout the khalasar, great orange blazes that crackled with fury and spit embers at the sky. She tried to rise, and agony seized her and squeezed her like a giants fist. The breath went out of her it was all she could do to gasp. The sound of Mirri Maz Duurs voice was like a funeral dirge. Inside the tent, the shadows whirled.An arm went und er her waist, and then Ser Jorah was lifting her off her feet. His face was randy with blood, and Dany saw that half his ear was gone. She convulsed in his arms as the pain took her again, and heard the knight shouting for her handmaids to help him. Are they all so afraid? She knew the answer. Another pain grasped her, and Dany bit back a scream. It felt as if her son had a knife in each hand, as if he were hacking at her to cut his way out. Doreah, curse you, Ser Jorah roared. Come here. fuck off the birthing women.They will not come. They say she is accursed.Theyll come or Ill have their heads.Doreah wept. They are gone, my lord.The maegi, someone else said. Was that Aggo? Take her to the maegi.No, Dany wanted to say, no, not that, you mustnt, but when she opened her mouth, a long wail of pain get away, and the sweat broke over her skin. What was wrong with them, couldnt they see? Inside the tent the shapes were dancing, circling the brazier and the bloody bath, dark against th e sandsilk, and some did not look human. She glimpsed the shadow of a great wolf, and another like a man wreathed in flames.The Lamb Woman knows the secrets of the birthing bed, Irri said. She said so, I heard her.Yes, Doreah agreed, I heard her too.No, she shouted, or perhaps she only thought it, for no whisper of sound escaped her lips. She was being carried. Her eyes opened to gaze up at a flat dead sky, black and bleak and starless. Please, no. The sound of Mirri Maz Duurs voice grew louder, until it filled the world. The shapes she screamed. The dancersSer Jorah carried her inside the tent.