Game of Thrones Iron Stark

News of Illyrio's death spread fast through Pentos. His wife, children, and every coin he owned were stripped away before his body cooled.

The message reached Daenerys too. She had kept loose contact with the fat magister.

"Khaleesi," Ser Jorah said quietly beside her bed. "Illyrio is dead. Killed in King's Landing. The usurper will never stop hunting you. We need to strike back at Westeros before Robert Baratheon grows too comfortable on the throne."

Daenerys rested one hand on her swollen belly. "I still haven't found a way to hatch the eggs. The sheep people claim they can help, but how do we know they're not just using us?"

"I don't know if they're kind," Jorah answered. "But I've seen their village. Their knowledge and tools are years ahead of anything in the Seven Kingdoms. They invited you. The conditions there are better. They might actually wake the dragons."

Daenerys was silent for a moment. Then she turned to a handmaid.

"Send for Khal Drogo. I need to speak with him."

Drogo and his bloodriders were out hunting. The grass and water here were nearly gone. The khalasar had to move soon.

Some of the warriors argued while they waited.

"If the Khaleesi is weak, she should die on the march," one said. "A true mother of the stallion who mounts the world would survive anything."

Another shook his head. "The midwives say she cannot travel far right now, let alone on horseback. Do we really send her to the sheep people? That would shame every Dothraki."

Cohollo, one of the bloodriders who had seen Sheep Village with his own eyes, spoke up. "The sheep people are not weak. They are clever and strong. I have seen what they can do."

Still, others worried. "They already took one dragon egg. If the Khaleesi goes to them and the dragons hatch, who will the beasts obey?"

A handmaid arrived. "Khal, the Khaleesi asks for you."

Drogo stood. "Prepare the khalasar to move. I will decide what happens with my wife."

He went to Daenerys and kissed her gently on the mouth.

"Moon of my life."

"Sun and stars," she answered. "I want to go to the sheep village. They may be the only ones who can help me hatch the eggs. With their knowledge I can take back the Iron Throne."

Drogo looked at her for a long moment, then nodded.

"Very well. Take your people and go. I will lead the rest of the khalasar to war. When we meet again I will have a greater khalasar to welcome you and our son."

Daenerys smiled. "Thank you. When the first dragon hatches, I will name it after you."

She already had names ready for all three eggs.

Drogo. Rhaegar. Viserys.

Sometimes they came out as Drogon, Rhaegal, Viserion.

But those were the names she had chosen.

Soon Drogo rode out with the main khalasar, chasing fresh grass and new battles. He was still young, only thirty, and certain he would become the greatest khal once more.

Daenerys traveled in a litter toward Sheep Village, two of the dragon eggs resting beside her. Ser Jorah and a handful of Dothraki warriors rode as her guard. Her handmaids walked on foot. Among the Dothraki, slaves did not ride.

They crossed a vast, empty wasteland that seemed to have no end. Nothing but sand and stone under a brutal sun. Wind screamed across the dunes and kicked up blinding storms of dust. At night the sky turned black and cold, the stars sharp as knife points.

By the time they neared the edge of the desert, Daenerys was exhausted and aching.

A small group of men came running toward them across the sand. At their head moved Happy Sheep, impossibly fast.

He stopped a safe distance away and called out.

"We received your message, Princess Daenerys. The Village Chief sent us to bring you in safely."

Daenerys had the litter lowered and stepped out with help from her handmaids.

"Happy Sheep. Thank you for coming. I was afraid we might lose our way in this wasteland."

Happy Sheep smiled. "You could have taken an easier route. Why choose the hardest path?"

"We are few," Daenerys answered. "Other tribes would have seen us as easy prey. This was the only way we could stay hidden."

Happy Sheep nodded. "Then follow us. We will lead you out before dark."

They moved quickly. By sunset the desert fell behind them and the iron walls of Sheep Village rose ahead.

The Village Chief, an old man the others called Slow Sheep, stood waiting at the gate with several of his people. He leaned on a staff, a sprig of grass tucked behind one ear of his sheep-head hood.

When Daenerys approached, he bowed his head slightly.

"Princess. I am the Village Chief of Sheep Village. You and your child will be safe here. We will help you bring your dragons into this world. That is our promise."

Daenerys placed a hand on her belly and bowed in return.

"Thank you, wise and generous Village Chief."

The gates opened behind him.

For the first time in a long while, Daenerys felt a spark of real hope.