Weasels will tear out her entrails and carrion crows feast upon her eyes. The flies off the river shall lay their eggs in her womb and drink pus from the ruins of her breasts... " He dug iron-hard fingers into the soft, wobbly flesh under the godswife's arm and hauled her to her feet.
No, Dany said. "I will not have her harmed."
Qotho's lips skinned back from his crooked brown teeth in a terrible mockery of a smile. "No? You say me no? Better you should pray that we do not stake you out beside your maegi. You did this, as much as the other."
Sir Jorah stepped between them, loosening his longsword in its scabbard. "Rein in your tongue, bloodrider. The princess is still your khaleesi. "
Only while the blood-of-my-blood still lives, Qotho told the knight. "When he dies, she is nothing."
Dany felt a tightness inside her. "Before I was khaleesi, I was the blood of the dragon. Sir Jorah, summon my khas."
No, said Qotho. "We will go. For now... Khaleesi. " Haggo followed him from the tent, scowling.
That one means you no good, Princess, Mormont said. "The Dothraki say a man and his bloodriders share one life, and Qotho sees it ending. A dead man is beyond fear."