He pushed his way through the Dothraki to Dany's side. When he saw the scarlet footprints her boots had left on the ground, the color seemed to drain from his face. "What have you done, you little fool?" he asked hoarsely.
I had to save him.
We could have fled, he said. "I would have seen you safe to Asshai, Princess. There was no need... "
Am I truly your princess? she asked him.
You know you are, gods save us both.
Then help me now.
Sir Jorah grimaced. "Would that I knew how."
Mirri Maz Duur's voice rose to a high, ululating wail that sent a shiver down Dany's back. Some of the Dothraki began to mutter and back away. The tent was aglow with the light of braziers within. Through the blood-spattered sandsilk, she glimpsed shadows moving.
Mirri Maz Duur was dancing, and not alone.
Dany saw naked fear on the faces of the Dothraki. "This must not be," Qotho thundered.
She had not seen the bloodrider return. Haggo and Cohollo were with him. They had brought the hairless men, the eunuchs who healed with knife and needle and fire.
This will be, Dany replied.