章 105: The Dothraki II
(Third Person POV)
[Near Lemonswood, A Few Days After The Dothraki Invasion]
Oberyn Martell led his forces against the horde of Dothraki, clashing with them with an unorthodox tactic of hit and running. The Dornish, rallied by a capable tactician, were able to create a capable resistance that was able to deter them from completely obliterating them.
While there seemed to be no end to the horse-riders, the Dornish were standing strong, capable of fighting back against them. When it came to horse combat, they stood no chance. However, taking the horses out of the equation and forcing a battle on foot, the Dornish were able to overwhelm the Dothraki, taking two to one and keeping the momentum up.
Oberyn Martell himself was able to lure dozens upon dozens of Dotharki off their horses and meet them in single combat. His spear pierced through the flesh of the horse savages, easily putting them to the ground and if they were to survive his quick onslaughts, they would be taken down by the poison in his spear's blade.
The Red Viper pushed through the Dothraki like a terrifying storm, something the Dothraki had not seen ever in their lives of raiding and pillaging.
Despite this, however, they did not back down. That is because no matter how many Dothraki fell in battle, more Dornish did the same, and there were more waves of stampeding horses that did not relent.
This was the terrifying power of the Great Khalassar. As the two hundredth Dornish soldier fell, there were only three hundred Dothraki that had been killed and that was not even the third of the entirety of the Horde that was nearby.
The Great Khalassar consisted of 100,000 Dothraki.
They were all spread out throughout the southern region of Dorne, making their way around the arid wasteland to raze everything to the ground. Along with them were two dragons, Drogon and Viserra, ridden by Daegon and Syras.
To say that Dorne had their work cut out for them was an understatement.
However, Dorne was not an easy target to vanquish. There's a reason they remained unconquered for generations after the Conquest. Not even the might of Aegon I and his dragons were capable of bending them.
It was that reputation that was about to be put to the test.
Oberyn plunged his spear through a Dothraki rider's throat, "Bah!" He shouted in annoyance, "There is no end to them!"
He pulled it out as he stepped back, a horse crashing right in front of him, letting out a pained whining as the rider launched into the air and crashed into the ground.
The dothraki let out a pained grunt as he got to his knees, his left arm mangled and twisted by the fall. Oberyn wasted no time in stabbing him through the eye, pinning him down with ease.
"Tch!" He said as he pulled it out and stepped back, looking at his surroundings
They were right outside Lemonwood, the seat of House Dalt. The Dalt soldiers were aiding Prince Oberyn as Martell forces were joining in as well. Lord Dalt was currently covering the right flank, leading his men into a serious clash with the Dothraki.
"Prince Oberyn!" one of the Dalt soldiers said, "We should get you somewhere safe!"
"Safe? There is no place safe!" Oberyn spat
"But my Prince, you are our commander!" he said
Oberyn watched as in the distance, a serious clash between riders ensued, a massive cloud of dust as the clashing of steel was heard. The Dothraki and House Dalt's riders had crashed against each other in a storm of flesh and steel.
"Hm...." He said, "Get me a horse! Now!"
"It is not wise, Prince!" they said
"Do not disobey me!" Oberyn shouted at them
"Prince Oberyn!" another soldier shouted, "Look!"
"What?!" Oberyn said
The soldier was pointing to a hill, where a massive dragon sat, staring at them in a terrifying manner. There was a strange calm to the dragon's expression, like a predator stalking its prey knowing that they would do nothing in their predicament.
"What the bloody hells?!" Oberyn shouted as he saw the dragon, different than the one that was spotted above Sunspear
It was black with a shade of red, much larger than the one that was above House Martell's home. It was Drogon and Khal Daegon was sitting atop the dragon, calmly looking at the battle, most specifically...at Oberyn.
"How did it get there unnoticed?!" Oberyn shouted as he avoided a blade from a Dothraki that was on foot
He slashed his spear at the savage's neck, dropping him to the ground with ease.
That was a good question that was asked. The truth to that was that amidst the chaos, Drogon was landed several hundred meters and while the Dothraki swarmed the Dornish forces, he merely walked his way towards the hill he just stood on.
This was an intimidation tactic used by Khal Daegon, to strike fear in the hearts of his prey. A message; that the flames of his dragon can hit anyone and anything without being noticed. Drogon, a massive dragon that was the same size as Morghul, was able to sneak his way to a battlefield. It was unheard of, but the sounds of clashing steel were able to hide his sounds.
Khal Daegon pointed his arakh to his left, where the massive clash of Dothraki and House Dalt riders was ongoing.
Without breaking eye contact with Oberyn Martell, he opened his mouth to utter a single command.
"Dracarys."
Drogon turned to the clash and opened his mouth, unleashing a stream of fiery flames that bathed both Dothraki and Dornishmen alike, immediately incinerating anyone in them. The screams of both sides of the battle were heard, mixed with the pained neighing of the horses as the smell of burning flesh and steel filled the air.
As Drogon stopped breathing fire, Khal Daegon lowered his arakh, looking at Prince Oberyn with a slight smirk on his face.
Oberyn watched this with pure shock, "H-He...." He said, "He burned his own men...."
Khal Daegon then raised his left arm and closed his hand in a fist, slamming it against his chest as he opened his mouth.
"Bloodriders!!!!!" He shouted in Dothraki, loud enough for any of his nearby men to hear, "Die and your corpses will be raped. Win with wounds and you will be bathed in flames. I will not tolerate failure. Run and Drogon shall feast on your flesh."
As the massive wall of flames and smoke raged on next to the hill, there was sounds of Dothraki screaming their war-cries loud into the air. Boosted by the rallying words of their Khal, they advanced their assault more viciously on the Dornishmen.
Khal Daegon pointed his arakh at Oberyn Martell who was clashing with some Dothraki, "Forward." He said in High-Valyrian
Drogon crawled down the hill as he snarled at everyone that was nearby, biting at any random Dornishmen who was backing up from a fight.
As Oberyn killed three Dothraki and stepped away to catch his breath, Khal Daegon stopped Drogon a few dozen meters away as the dragon let out a deep growl.
"The Red Viper." Daegon said with a thick dothraki accent, "Your legend has reached even my Khalassar. Come.."
He dismounted his Dragon and landed on the ground, his back slightly to Oberyn who was straightening up.
Oberyn then caught a glimpse of a strange mark on his shoulder, "What?" He said as he squinted, "That..."
The mark was that of a dragon's flame, conveniently uncovered. It normally was covered by a leather shoulder pad that the Khal was no longer wearing that day.
Oberyn widened his eyes, "No..." He said softly, "It cannot be."
Daegon straightened up and turned to face him, readying his arakh, "I will test my skill against you." He said as he walked away, "One on one. Me and you."
Oberyn readied his spear as he began to tremble slightly, "It cannot be....it must be some sort of mistake..." He said as his face hardened, "That mark...."
"That's Rhaegar's mark..."
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