Chapter 41 - Chapter 40: Guest Rights

Xaro, worthy of being one of the Thirteen Lords of Qarth, had prepared a mansion that left even the knowledgeable Daenerys Targaryen in awe.The estate sprawled across acres, a blend of luxury, artistry, and engineering marvels. Vast gardens bloomed with exotic flowers, their petals bright as gemstones under the midday sun. A marble bathing pool reflected the sky and fragrant blossoms alike, while a towering crystal scrying tower rose like a beacon—an observatory, Xaro had explained, for studying the heavens. Nearby, a carefully manicured garden maze challenged visitors to find their way through its winding paths, its walls fragrant with night-blooming jasmines.The entire palace was larger than any bazaar Dany had ever seen. It could comfortably accommodate twice the number of guests it would ever host, not to mention the two hundred Qarths who worked within its walls. To add to the splendor, Xaro had provided Dany with two hundred slaves to attend her needs.After the Qarths' horsefolk were settled, Dany allowed herself a moment of reprieve by the bathing pool. Fish nibbled gently at her toes, their tiny mouths brushing her skin with a ticklish sensation. She marveled silently. Even in a world of wonders, kissing fish were new to her—only the Qarth could conceive such a thing.Her contemplation was interrupted by a sudden shadow falling across the pool. Startled, she turned to see Quaithe silently beside her."You…" Dany began, expecting some cryptic warning or arcane observation."I am leaving," Quaithe said simply."Oh… bye," Dany replied, her surprise evident. She had expected something more urgent."Be careful," Quaithe added, her tone casual, almost indifferent.Dany hesitated. "Uh… be careful of what?""Be careful of everyone," Quaithe replied, her voice carrying an unyielding solemnity beneath the lacquers of her red mask. "From this day onward, they will come to see this miracle of rebirth, day and night. Their greed will stir. For dragons are made of fire, and fire is power. Dragons are the source of all mystical forces."Though her expression remained obscured, Dany felt the weight of Quaithe's warning. The shadowbinder's presence vanished as silently as it had appeared, leaving only her words lingering in the air.Luxury held no appeal after that. Dany immediately summoned Jorah and her bloodriders to the pool, the fish still tickling her toes. She recounted Quaithe's warning, her mind racing with possibilities."I don't like her," Jorah admitted, his brow furrowed. "A shadowbinder deserves caution. But this one… she didn't even need to intimidate us. From the moment we entered Qarth, I sensed a subtle, unsettling aura. She is not an enemy, but she is… dangerous."Rakharo's face hardened, his teeth clenched. "I do not like the way the Milkman looks at us. It is like gazing upon a rare animal, cornered in an alien land."The Dothraki nickname made Dany chuckle. Indeed, the Qartheen had pale, milky-white skin, far lighter than most Westerosi. Their faces and hands glowed under the sun as if the city itself were bathed in moonlight.True, Qarth had welcomed them warmly, but warm welcomes could disguise many intentions. Dany reflected on this as she walked the streets of the Middle Wall, imagining herself as Arthas.——Lordaeron had welcomed Arthas with triumph bells, cheers, and petals falling from the sky, only for him to unleash the Undead Scourge and massacre the city in the same day."They want to see the dragons," Dany said, her voice sharp, turning to Quirrell. "Arrange two groups of guards: one visible, one hidden, to watch over the dragons at all times. We cannot afford a single lapse in vigilance.""Aggo, Jhogo," she continued, addressing her bloodriders, "study the surrounding terrain. Map the houses, the streets, and the palace guards. Observe everything. Knowledge is our first weapon."Turning to Jorah, she added solemnly, "Ser, I understand the current situation. You must mingle with the streets, the docks, taverns, even the brothels. Observe the common folk and report the attitudes of both the ordinary citizens and the upper class."After a brief pause, she elaborated further, "Qarth is a trade hub connecting East and West. You may also encounter Westerosi merchants and traders from other city-states. Gather intelligence, but also spread word of me and my dragons. Let the city know we are not mere wanderers, but a force to be reckoned with."Jorah hesitated, caution in his tone. "Khaleesi… before, you feared the usurper might send assassins. Now you actively reveal your dragons to Westerosi merchants. Even if Robert were dead, his son remains. You invite risk."Dany's expression remained calm, resolute. "The dragons' hatching is already known. Those in King's Landing are surely aware. Let this be the focal point. It will protect us by drawing attention away from our true purpose."That night, Dany dined like a queen, indulging in delicacies that challenged even her vast culinary experiences—stir-fried peacock tongues, delicate spices from across the known world. She marveled at the ingenuity of Qarth's chefs, whose creations would rival the most opulent tables in Valyria.The following morning, just as Quaithe had forewarned, the powerful figures of Qarth arrived at Xaro's palace. Sedan chairs carried them across the marble floors, flanked by swarms of attendants.Xaro escorted them to Dany's chambers. The guests gushed over her beauty, her noble bearing, and her dragons. They offered gifts of silk, jewels, exotic animals, and even skilled dwarves, their eyes wide with awe. In Qarth, tears were a sign of respect and sophistication; they believed that to weep was to demonstrate true civilization.Dany, unhesitatingly, presented her chained dragons to the visitors. More tears followed, and more admiration.The upper class of Qarth consisted of three powerful factions: the royal family, the merchants, and the warlocks.In the age of dragons, the warlocks had lost much of their power. Authority had shifted: the royal family retained control over Qarth's camel cavalry and naval fleet, yet true political power rested with the merchants.The merchants were organized into three rival guilds: the Thirteen, the Tourmaline Brotherhood, and the Ancient Guild of Spice. Internal strife was constant, but their combined rivalry kept the royal family in check. Without the merchants, the city could not function.On the first day, members of the Thirteen came to see Dany. The next day, the Tourmaline Brotherhood appeared. After viewing the dragons, the gem merchants spent a week crafting a three-headed dragon crown for her: coiled bodies of gold, wings of silver, heads of emerald, ivory, and agate. On the third day, the Spice Guild gifted seventy-seven chests of rare spices from across the world.Dany noted the significance of the numbers. The Targaryens had long abandoned Valyria's old gods in favor of the Seven when conquering Westeros, but numbers still mattered. Seven, seventy-seven, and seven hundred seventy-seven were considered auspicious.On the fourth day, Dany began meeting with officials—small merchants, government bureaucrats, fleet commanders, and camel cavalry captains. The royals themselves were harder to reach. Those wishing a royal audience required qualifications and connections.Xaro had claimed knowledge of the "ropes": whom to contact, what gifts to offer, and in what amounts. Dany bristled inwardly, but Jorah had spent the previous days assessing the city's power structures. Though the royal family commanded military forces, real authority lay with the merchants, whose wealth allowed them to wield influence beyond the crowns and scepters of the palace.Jorah explained, "This is the custom of Qarth. Guest rights are not absolute—they exist only when a guest accepts the host's hospitality, the bread and salt offered in goodwill. If the host places an unsheathed sword across their knees, it signifies that no guest relationship exists."Dany frowned. "Demanding gifts? Isn't that low? Does the Seven Kingdoms do the same?"Jorah coughed, his cheeks tinged red beneath his beard. "Not so blatantly. Gifts are gestures of gratitude. When the guest leaves, a token may be returned. It is tradition—especially when the guest is in a weaker position, fearing the host might override their rights."Dany reflected. The relationship reminded her of Craster beyond the Wall. Craster, the wildling who gave his daughters in marriage to themselves and their sons to the White Walkers, held a monopoly on survival for men of the Night's Watch. His shelter and food were crucial, yet he extorted iron, demanding what was effectively a "guest gift."Guest rights were reciprocal. Neither host nor guest could harm the other once these rights were recognized—even if deals involved the devil himself.Seeing Dany lost in thought, Jorah added, "Ancient traditions of guest rights exist in many lands. The specifics differ, but the principle is universal."Dany exhaled slowly. "Then we shall give gifts to the royal family… and hope they, in turn, honor us with their guest gifts."The game of power, influence, and survival had begun in Qarth. And Dany, Mother of Dragons, was ready to play.(End of Chapter 40)---