They did not know what they were expecting when Azaerys mentioned the Warrior Tribes and the Town. Somewhere in their minds, they had the image of Dothraki, but the reality was far from it.
Tall walls, all manned, and tall gates with Hippogriffs and Lions engraved on them came into their sight, and they understood in an instant that these were the same people who had built that ruined city.
Kharziks were not savages. At least, not savages like the Dothraki and the gate was opened for them even before they closed in.
A man riding a Hippogriff, with two large lions on his flanks, led his entourage out to greet them.
He was tall, easily over seven feet tall, and well-built. His muscular torso was bare, except for the straps that held the heavy coat on his back and the lion's mane that was draped over his shoulders. Even his brown hair and thick beard resembled a lion, and behind him were women and men, all warriors, carrying bows and quivers on their backs and dirks or short swords on their waists.
They were all on top of either Hippogriffs or Horses, and all their eyes were focused on Azaerys.
The men on the walls had not drawn their bows and arrows at them, so, everyone was quite relaxed.
"Arthur, Prince Oberyn," he called their names, and when they saw him get off his horse, they did the same.
On the other side, the Chief of the Town of Lions got off his Hippogriffs as well and exactly two people followed him as he walked forward.
"Drazar Hazaedis!" Azaerys greeted them when the Chief stopped a few feet away from him, and his greeting made the man grin in happiness.
"Drazar Arrudin!" He said as he laughed and opened his arms before stepping forward.
Oberyn raised his brow when he watched Azaerys hug the man as if they were long-lost brothers.
Soon, the two men behind the Chief stepped forward as well.
"Drazar Hazaedis!" They greeted, and both Arthur and Oberyn subconsciously greeted them back.
"Drazar Arrudin..."
Oberyn's breath nearly left his lungs when the man tightly hugged him, but thankfully, the hug only lasted for a couple of blinks.
Seeing that they had cordially met, the people of the town started cheering loudly, their voices travelling far into the land, and under their cheers, the Targaryen Entourage entered the Town.
No, these people were not savages. They were far from what one would call a savage.
The architecture of the town, which was built on stone and wood, was stunning, to say the least, and there were not a few thousand people living here, but easily over a hundred thousand of them.
There were smiles on the faces of children, who waved and laughed at them when they saw their donkeys, which was heartwarming, and then there were the people themselves.
Brown-skinned, with dark hair and greyish eyes. They were all tall, and even their women were over six feet tall but beautiful.
They did not stink like the Dothraki, and it was clear by their appearances that they cared a lot about hygiene.
They were even dressed well in their leather outfits, with some choosing to stay half-naked, and some covering their entire bodies. And almost every adult carried a long bow on their backs.
In the centre of town was a small stream, which divided it into two districts, and when they crossed the bridge, they saw the fishing nets that the people had cleverly installed in this water to catch their food.
This side of the town was less populated and had the market, the stables, forges, training yards, barracks, the Town Hall, a massive temple, almost as big as the Sept of Baelor in King's Landing, and then the Chief's Manse, which was like a small palace.
Instead of leading them to the Manse, the Chief led them to the Temple, and inside, they found the history of these people etched on the walls.
They seemingly took great pride in their history, and even though the people in his entourage could not understand the language, they understood everything since the drawings were quite elaborate.
There were accounts of Wars, different ages, the first time the Kharziks discovered the Hippogriffs, how they developed their Warg Abilities, and how they managed to defeat the cursed people, who were half apes and half men, over and over again.
Finally, the man led Azaerys in front of a wall, where the images of a pair of Valyrian Dragonlords and their Dragons were etched.
The Young King calmly listened to the story from the Chief, answered the questions and informed him about what happened to the land where these two Valyrians had come from.
Hearing that Valyria was gone, the Kharziks looked quite depressed but gave him some comforting words, which he thanked them for.
Before they left the Temple, Azaerys took part in a prayer with them that they directed to Zefaerys and Vaerra, and the Chief then led them to the Manse, where they were given their own rooms to get some rest.
Everything that had happened so far had left them all perplexed, and sure enough, as soon as they were alone, his people gathered around Azaerys, hoping that he would answer their questions.
"What does Drazar Hazaedis mean?" Oberyn asked, having never heard such a greeting.
"With life comes death," the Young King told him. "In return, you must say Drazar Arrudin, with life come blessings."
"What language is this?"
"The First Tongue," he smiled. "That's what they call it. It predates any other language that you know about."
"And why are these people so friendly to us?" Oberyn raised his brow.
"A few centuries before the Doom, two Valyrian explorers came to Ulthos, and they happened to come at a time when the Cursed Folk were engaged in a war with the Kharziks, which the latter was on the verge of losing. However, the tides turned when the two dragons breathed their flames and burned the half-apes and half-men. And since that day, the two explorers became their benefactors. When they learned that the Valyrians also believed in Zefaerys and Vaerra, the Kharziks started considering them the servants of the same Gods. Their friends."
"This should make things easier." Oberyn nodded his head.
"No, it makes things more complicated," said Azaerys.
"Why?" They all frowned at his words.
"You do not just do business with your friends, you show them your goodwill. And people here now consider me, Viserys, and Arthur their close friends, and thus, they hold some expectations from us."
"What did you two talk about?" Arianne curiously asked.
"Cheif Zarro has informed me that falcons have been sent, and by tomorrow morning, the other 19 Cheifs of Kharziks will arrive in the town to meet me. We will discuss the terms of trade tomorrow."
Everyone nodded to his words and then Azaerys sent a man out to signal to Viserys to come down and enter the town.
"Before you leave, I must warn you about something," he said and the Dornish Prince raised his brow when his eyes settled on him. "I know that they are beautiful, but do not flirt with the Kharzik women. If they are unmarried and accept your advances, you will be forced to marry them. If they are already married, then I can promise you that they won't show you any favour. They are way too religious in that regard. The punishment for flirting with a married woman or a woman who is unmarried but refuses your advances is quite dreadful. You will be stripped naked, bound to a post, and the ladies of the town will throw eggs and tomatoes at you, pour the bitter rum on you, and if you were aggressive with your advances, your head will be shaven, and your cocks will be circumcised if they aren't already. Your punishment will start from dawn and you will stay bound to the post till dusk. There are more technicalities involved as well, and if you are deemed lecherous, your punishment is that you will be wed to the ugliest girl in the town, and there will be witnesses on your bedding ceremony. At worst, you will be killed."
As soon as they heard his words, even Oberyn gulped a mouthful of saliva and dropped any thoughts of approaching anyone in the town.
"Doesn't that make the men fearful of approaching women?" Oswell frowned.
"It does. Only the brave ones take risks when they are certain that the girl likes them back. It is the Kharzik girls who choose their life partners, and though men are allowed to refuse them, there are no punishments for the ladies. The parents set betrothals as well, but the girls are free to accept them or refuse them. Nobody takes their refusal as a matter of honour in their society. They just wish the girl well and pray for her that she finds a suitable husband. Eleven of the twenty chiefs are women, so you could say that Kharzik Women enjoy more rights than their men. However, men are allowed to take more wives, but only if they have permission from those they are already married to. It usually happens when two women, who are close to each other, fall in love with the same man. The Kharzik marriages are for a lifetime. They can not be annulled. Most only take a second spouse if the first one dies."
"And here I thought they would be savages. They are more sophisticated than people in Westeros and Essos," Nymeria commented, clearly pleased to learn that the Kharzik women held a lot of power and enjoyed more freedom to make their own choices.
Azaerys smiled at her words.
"It is because their traditions and culture have not been influenced and stained by the other societies. If there was another religion in this land, people with other beliefs, things would have been very different," Arthur said and then sighed. "I am glad that they are the way they are."
"So am I, but make no mistake, they have their own troubles. They are a Warrior Race, and people fight a lot amongst each other to settle disputes. Even the Tribes fight each other over resources, the right to hunt, and the arable land, but they tend to avoid any dishonourable bloodshed. Not to mention, every year, when the leaves of the trees start turning brown and golden, the Cursed Folk cross the river and start their hunting season. The Kharziks can not take care of their fields outside the Town, nor can they go out on hunts. They stay huddled up in their walls for several moons until the winter passes and the flowers bloom. They always have to stay vigilant and man the walls at every hour of the day."
"How do they close the stream?" Oberyn frowned.
"They don't. The Cursed people dare not touch the water that flows on the ground. They only drink from the water that falls, like waterfalls."
"Just a superstition?"
"Yes. They are not very intelligent."
"What happens when they do become intelligent?" Nymeria frowned.
"The passages through which the stream enters the town are not big enough for them."
"Oh..." they chuckled, shaking their heads.
"So, they are safe as long as they stay inside the walls."
"Yes, but not for long." Azaerys smiled. "Their population is growing, and soon they will need to build a new Town or extend the boundaries of the existing ones. Zarro told me that there are towns which have even more population than this one."
"Why don't they just leave this place?" Arianne frowned.
"The cursed people will come after them. This land will also become their territory, which the Kharziks can not risk. You saw the images and the glyphs in the temple right? Kharziks once used to live on the other side of the river too, but they left that place, and now the land where they lived is infested by the cursed ones. The worst period was when the Kingdoms discovered this land and launched an invasion. It just so happened to be right before the Man-Apes began their hunting season. Tens of thousands of Kharziks died in that war, and that's how the city we saw earlier turned to ruins. Several such wars occurred over the next couple of centuries before the invaders gave up and never returned to this land. Kharziks would have died out if not for the two Dragon Riders who appeared at the crucial time and saved them from the cursed ones. This is why they are so grateful and look at our dragons in reverence and worship."
"How do they treat the First Men now?"
"Kill on sight," said the Young King. "The Blood feud is beyond repair now. Kharziks considered them invaders who desecrated their land and wanted to steal their resources. They consider them servants of False Gods who had come there to enslave them and to force them to give up their Gods."
"That might not be far from the truth," chuckled Oberyn.