Jon was led into the new Khal's tent and was surprised. The new Khal apparently respected him enough to give him new clothes and have him bathed. He knew what it was like to be a prisoner and this was not it. Whatever this Khal wanted, it was not his head, or at least he hoped it wasn't. Mero had been a coward and a fool. It should be him sitting here instead of Jon but, if he were to negotiate, Drogo would kill him in an instant.
Khal Drogo motioned for him to take a seat in front of the fire. Jon did as he was told and took a seat by the fire.
"Do you speak Dothraki?" Khal Drogo asked.
Jon nodded. He had been in Essos for more than a year and in that year negotiations with rival Khalasars had happened thrice. In those three times, he and the Dothraki translator that the Second Sons employed, got to know each other. He taught the man to better speak Westorsi while he learned to speak Dothraki. All in all, it was a good deal for Jon. One that he thought he got the better end of.
"Aye, I speak the Language of the Horse." Jon said in almost perfect Dothraki.
Khal Drogo nods in approval.
"You were right, when you said the former Khal acted with no honor. His word was worthless and following him would have meant death to this Khalassar. "Drogo said.
Drogo offer Jon a wineskin and Jon takes a sip of wine before giving it back.
"Yes, I suspect everyone else thought the same. Otherwise, there would have been more challengers to you once you took his head."
Drogo laughed at Jon's comment.
"Yes, no one his mourning has turned into a mini celebration of sorts. "
Jon nods in agreement. He had seen the change in the Khalassar since Drogo took over. It was like a great weight being lifted from the rider's shoulders.
"And where does this leave me? Am I still a prisoner? Am I a slave?" Jon asked.
Jon looked at Drogo in the eye. It was clear Drogo's answer would decide his fate for years to come.
"That depends on you."
Jon quirks his eyebrows.
"How so?" Jon said.
Drogo sighed and took another drink of wine.
"Because, Jon son of Dorne. I need your help."
Jon was intrigued. Of all the things he expected Khal Drogo to say, that was not one of them.
"What would the great Khal Drogo need my help for?" asked Jon.
Drogo looked at Jon with an intense stare.
"You're not stupid Jon. You know my mount is fragile. The Dothraki respect strength and victory. I have given them one but, I haven't given them the other."
Jon nods in understanding. While Khal Drogo goes on.
"My Khalasar only numbers 7,000 mounts. There are those in the great grass sea who outnumber us 5 to 1." Drogo said.
"Still, what could I do to help you?" Jon said.
"I may be a savage but, I'm a smart savage. When my foolish cousin led this Khalasar we laid siege to this city. "Khal Drogo said while motioning to the unseen city behind him.
"You only had 500 men, but, you bled the Khalasar to death. You're actions in killing thrice the number of men you had is extraordinary. It's what drove my cousin to madness when city leaders sent you to finalize the city's ransom. It's what drove him to break his word. His pride couldn't take his adversary getting the better of him and it was what ultimately drove him to doom. I do not want to make the same mistake."
Jon looks at the Dothraki with some newfound respect. He never thought that the Dothraki leader could be so insightful.
"I need good leadership in my Khalasar. As of now, most of my Ko's are still young. My cousin only formed this Khalasar twenty moons ago. We have fought battles as you have seen but, every battle has seen our numbers go down. I want my Khalasar to survive and for that I'm going to need someone I can trust. Someone, who can fight and lead by my side. You're people killed three times the number of men sent to kill you. I need that kind of leadership with me when I ride for the Great Grass Sea and I'm not leaving here until I get it."
Jon stares at Drogo for what seems like a long time. Silence fills the room as Drogo takes another drink. Jon weighs his options and realizes that his choices are limited. Either ride with Khal Drogo or go back to the second sons and fight Khal Drogo and his Khalassar. Jon takes a moment to answer.
"If I ride with you, I have some conditions." Jon said.
Khal Drogo smiled at him and motioned him to go on.
"One, you free all the sellswords you captured and honor your word to the people of Qohor." Jon said
"Done."
"Two, I am no slave or a Bloodrider. I eventually want to go home to Dorne. I need you to promise me that once the Khalasar is big enough and you're leadership is strong enough. You'll allow me to leave to return home."
"Done."
"Last but, not least. I want a strong horse and my weapons back. Walking the distance your Khalasar rides would wear down my feet to the bone." Jon said.
Drogo laughed loudly at his last wish before answering.
"Done. Jon Sand. Welcome to my Khalasar." Drogo said while offering him the wine skin.
Jon takes a drink from the wineskin and responds.
"Thank you Khal Drogo. I look forward to riding with you." Jon said.
Two days later…
The Khalasar was nearly packed up and was almost ready to leave. Jon knew that his would be a turning point in his life but, at the moment he could only think of one thing, his family. He had promised them that he'd return next year but, riding with Khal Drogo was unexpected. He couldn't predict when the next time he would see his father or sisters again and trying to do so would only lead them to disappointment. He knew that his ride with the Khal would take years but, it wouldn't take forever. He'd see Dorne and his family again, of that he had no doubt.
Jon is broken from his thoughts when a mounted sell sword rides up to him. The sell sword was named Bronn. He was one of the most competent men in the Second Sons and was somewhat of a mentor to Jon. In Dorne he learned fighting but, it was this man who truly taught him cheating and by subsequence, winning.
"So, this is it then." Bronn said.
"Aye, it is." Jon said.
"Are you sure you want to be doing this. I know Dothraki women are wild but, Dornish women are prettier."
Jon laughed. His sister Tyene would love this guy.
"Aye, they are. But, I gave my word. Everyone's freedom for my servitude." Jon said.
"Aye, and for that I am greatful."
Both friends look out into the disbanding Khalasar and sigh. It was truly a sight to behold. A cloud of dust raised from the front of the line where Khal Drogo's scouts and outriders were starting their march.
"So where are you headed after this?" Jon said.
Jon knew that this was Bronn's last job for the Second Sons. After this his contract was complete and he was a free and relatively rich man.
"I don't know. Westeros is a big place with many women that I might want to know."
"Do you plan to stop in Dorne?" Jon said.
"I might. Do you need me to send something back from there?" Bronn said.
"No, but, I need a favor."
"You just saved our lives. Just ask it and I'll get it done."
Jon takes a letter from his pouch. It's sealed with the ring his father gave him. It was his own personal ring with a JS with a spear going through it.
"I need you to stop at Sunspear and ask to see Areo Hoth. He'll take the letter to my uncle or father."
Bronn takes the letter from Jon's hand and puts it into his pouch.
"Consider it done."
A horn blows in the middle of the Khalasar, telling the riders to start the march.
"It looks like I'll be seeing you. Good luck out there Jon."
Jon and Bronn exchange forearm shakes.
"Aye, good luck out there Bronn. Till next we meet." Jon said, letting go of Bronn's arm.
Jon turned his horse around and quickly made his way towards his new Khalasar.
Bronn shook his head as his friend disappeared into a sea of horses.
"Till next time my friend." Bonn said to his friend that could no longer hear him.