As Möngke rode toward the ruins of Vis Kwo, ready to explore the Valyrian Avenue with the elder Ofor, the Dothraki tribe camped along the banks of the Saen River, holding a traditional wedding.
When the eastern sky blazed with the colors of dawn, smoke curled from the tents, carrying the scent of cooking fires.
Dothraki women bathed and purified themselves, their hair black and shining. They anointed themselves with the grassland's unique floral fragrances—on their wrists, behind their ears, on their lips, and in secret places—then draped themselves in painted robes, veils of crimson, yellow, or orange, awaiting the tribe's men.
The sky was a dome, the steppe their carpet, and the wild winds carried the aroma of grass and flowers. Brilliant colors declared life itself.
Long tables in the tents held no decoration; elderly women moved among the guests, offering traditional Dothraki delicacies: fresh horse hearts, semi-coagulated horse blood, garlic and chili roasted horse meat, blood pies, mare's milk wine, and sweet, robust summer reds from across the Narrow Sea. The Dothraki prized substance and authenticity above all, savoring the raw ingredients.
Men presented the new brides with whips, longbows, and arak curved swords—traditional gifts. The bride would refuse all three, as custom demanded, and the husband would accept them again, simple and sincere.
Time passed as drums sounded. Veiled women emerged from the tents, dancing to the rhythm of the music.
Dothraki weddings began at dawn and the feast would not end until nightfall.
As the Khal's deputy, the three Khas's Bloodriders naturally attended, free to claim women under the open sky and the eyes of the tribe. Whether they offered their arak curved swords depended on the women's consent.
The Bloodriders gathered, boldly sizing up the dancing women.
The strongest drank mare's milk wine and stumbled toward a veiled woman—but was cut off by a smaller Dothraki man.
By tradition, if two men desired the same woman, they fought to the death.
So the battles continued all day. Outside the feast, endless combat raged until dusk. A Dothraki wedding without at least three deaths was considered a failure.
As evening approached, Möngke, guided by Ofor, reached the grasslands at the confluence of the Saen River and its tributaries, where scouts of the tribe had set camp.
The journey was long and slow, but thankfully uneventful. Möngke witnessed the mastery of the old Dothraki riders, though he did not question why Ofor remained on foot; age had sapped his strength.
"Khal, if you go further, you'll reach the ruins of Vis Kadok," Ofor warned.
Möngke barely noticed the reminder, his eyes fixed on a distant forest. His expression darkened:
"Vis Kadok ruins lie on the western Dothraki steppe. Why is there a forest in the distance?"
Ofor, seated on his horse, frowned, speaking reluctantly:
"I apologize, Khal. I last passed through here four years ago…"
Then realization dawned on him, and he exclaimed:
"The Vis Kadok ruins lie west of the Kohol Forest. The trees have encroached upon our grasslands."
Shaking his head in disbelief, he added:
"No… if wild beasts had carried the seeds, the trees could never have grown so fast. West of Kohol Forest lies the city-state of Kohol. It must be the work of the Kohol people. They planted trees to harvest fine timber and carvings."
Where the Kohol saw gold, the Dothraki saw little, but Möngke saw the spark of war.
The Kohol had already interfered with his plans. Scouts could only reveal enemy numbers—not the local terrain.
Now, Vis Kadok ruins were surrounded by forest. Dothraki cavalry could not charge. Möngke's attention turned to the Jumokao tribe, camped within the trees.
When he first became a Bloodrider, he had been curious about the Khas' eunuchs. Dothraki kept no idle people. Eunuchs served as physicians, treating wounds with knives, needles, fire, and herbal remedies, often assisted by women skilled in potions and charms.
Möngke had respected the eunuch's craft and, learning he was a healer, had apologized sincerely.
From him, Möngke learned that the Jumokao Bloodriders planned to travel from Vis Dothrak to Pentos.
Later, while discussing geography with Ofor, Möngke confirmed the optimal route: leave the city, head west to the Saen River, follow it to Kohol, then take Valyrian Avenue to Pentos—the quickest, easiest, and best-supplied path.
Two pieces of information matched. Möngke sent scouts forward to track them. When his tribe reached Vis Kwo ruins along the Saen, the scouts reported Jumokao north of the river.
Last night, Ofor told him that south of Vis Kadok lay hills—the origin of the Saen's western tributaries. Jumokao could not cross the hills to Kohol. Based on their pace, they would stop at Vis Kadok ruins by the next nightfall.
All had assumed the ruins were still grassland. Möngke planned to lead a dawn cavalry strike.
Now, the unexpected forest shattered his plan.
A war contrary to Dothraki tradition would increase casualties. Attacking Vis Kadok now was meaningless. He would have to rethink.
As night fell, Möngke ordered scouts to continue shadowing Jumokao and summoned Ofor to ride with him.
Stars gleamed, a distant wolf howl pierced the night, disorienting them—but the Valyrian Avenue beneath their hooves guided the way.
The road home always seemed longer. Möngke urged his horse forward, collecting his thoughts. He stopped, looking back at the exhausted Ofor:
"Rest a moment."
Dismounting, he asked:
"If Jumokao leaves Vis Kadok, how will they reach Kohol?"
Ofor replied without hesitation:
"They'll continue west. After passing Kohol Forest, they'll encounter the Qin River. Following it downstream, they can reach Kohol city in a day."
Möngke's eyes sharpened as he pictured the map. He asked:
"Will they cross the Qin River?"
Ofor furrowed his brow, thinking carefully:
"Kohol city runs along the Qin River. They cannot mistakenly reach the opposite bank. Even if they tried, the river is wide, deep, and tumultuous—called the Black Daughter of the Lorn Mother, wild and capricious, yet embraced by her mother."
Möngke marked the Qin River mentally, sighing at the obstacle.
Then Ofor's eyes brightened:
"Khal, the Darkcurrent River—we can launch an ambush there."