The stallion is the khal of khals promised in ancient prophecy, child. He will unite the Dothraki into a single khalasar and ride to the ends of the earth, or so it was promised. All the people of the world will be his herd.
Oh, Dany said in a small voice. Her hand smoothed her robe down over the swell of her stomach. "I named him Rhaego."
A name to make the Usurper's blood run cold.
Suddenly Doreah was tugging at her elbow. "My lady, " the handmaid whispered urgently, "your brother..."
Dany looked down the length of the long, roofless hall and there he was, striding toward her. From the lurch in his step, she could tell at once that Viserys had found his wine...and something that passed for courage.
He was wearing his scarlet silks, soiled and travel-stained. His cloak and gloves were black velvet, faded from the sun. His boots were dry and cracked, his silver-blond hair matted and tangled. A longsword swung from his belt in a leather scabbard. The Dothraki eyed the sword as he passed; Dany heard curses and threats and angry muttering rising all around her, like a tide. The music died away in a nervous stammering of drums.