Chapter 43: Horsemen and Zebramen
They share the same disdain for oceans and ships, living off the land through nomadic herding and raiding civilized city-states for iron tools and other necessities.
Their tribal structure is similar to the khalasars of the Dothraki, led by chiefs akin to khals, and they live in tent dwellings reminiscent of yurts.
Physically, they bear some similarities to the Dothraki. The Jogos Nhai have sallow yellow skin, while the Dothraki are bronzed. However, the Jogos Nhai are less impressive in appearance.
Their men and women begin binding their faces at the age of two—a practice that seems to allude to foot binding—resulting in pointed skulls, large heads, and small faces, giving them an overall unattractive appearance.
They are also shorter and stockier, lacking the Dothraki's tall, lean frames and long limbs. However, their mounts surpass those of the Dothraki. While the Dothraki ride horses, the Jogos Nhai ride fierce zebras.
One group is made up of "Horsemen," and the other could be called "Zebramen."
Despite their shortcomings, the Jogos Nhai have a few customs that Daenerys admires.
"Honored guests, please share with my people how the great Jogos Nhai maintain their unity as a nation," Daenerys said, gesturing to the dozen Dothraki warriors, including Aggo, who were dining in the hall. Her tone was warm and inviting.
The Jogos Nhai guests, pleased by her subtle flattery and sincere curiosity, responded with enthusiasm.
"I understand what the khaleesi means," said the older of the two guests, one with graying hair, while the younger remained silent. "Your khalasars often fracture. While this culls weaker khals, it cannot compare to the strength of a united tribe."
The elder spoke eloquently, clearly proud of his people.
"In truth, the Dothraki lack a proper marriage system. Ordinary riders have neither wives nor children, so they feel no blood ties to their khalasar.
But blood ties are the strongest bond in the world.
Our tribes are primarily held together by kinship. This allows us to remain united for centuries or even millennia without falling apart.
The tribal leaders, or jahas, are chosen from the sons of the previous jaha.
As long as a jaha has enough wives, he will have plenty of sons, and among them, one strong warrior will always emerge."
Daenerys nodded in approval. "That is an excellent system. It's something we can learn from."
Her remark served the purpose of the evening perfectly.
Some things she could say herself, but a live example was far more impactful.
The elder, delighted by her praise, grew even more animated. "The jaha is merely the leader of a single tribe. Above the jaha is the Jahatta, who commands all the jahas of the Jogos Nhai. This unity allows us to stand together against powerful enemies."
Noticing the skeptical expressions on the Dothraki faces, Daenerys quickly interjected, "That is another brilliant system. Surely, the Jogos Nhai have produced many legendary Jahattas?"
Daenerys wasn't expecting any earth-shattering examples. She knew well that every culture glorifies its ancestors with grandiose legends.
Even the wild men of the Stone Age, who lived on raw meat and scavenged roots, would become flying, godlike beings in the myths of their descendants.
So, after asking her question, she sipped her red wine and waited patiently for the sharp-skulled elder to boast.
The elder, seemingly more excited than ever, gestured dramatically as he replied, "Ah, great Mother of Dragons, you are truly wise. Only those with profound wisdom can recognize the wisdom of others.
Undoubtedly, you share the same wisdom as our ancestors."
"You flatter me. I fall far short of such greatness," Daenerys said with a modest smile, though inwardly, she couldn't help but think, My ability to keep a straight face really doesn't compare to yours.
The elder continued, his pride swelling, "Our ancestors brought the mighty Kingdom of N'Ghai to its knees, leaving it with only a single city. That city was teeming with necromancers and torturers. Had most of it not been hidden underground, we would have conquered it long ago."
It seemed the elder wanted to enhance the magnitude of this accomplishment. Lowering his voice, he added, "Don't underestimate necromancers, and certainly don't think of them as frauds. Are you familiar with the Long Night that blanketed the world thousands of years ago?"
"The White Walkers?" Jorah gasped.
"Heh, heh, heh. I know of the White Walkers—those living dead are the creations of necromancers. Legend has it that the Long Night was summoned by the Bloodstone Emperor, the celestial ruler of Yi Ti, using necromancy.
Yet, even such a powerful nation of sorcerers was nearly wiped out by us," the elder said proudly.
"Wow, truly... impressive," Daenerys chimed in with admiration, though internally, she was skeptical.
Yi Ti was located across several continents and seas from Westeros. Why would the White Walkers, who wreaked havoc in the Far North, go to such lengths to trouble the people of Yi Ti?
Setting aside their motives, how would they have even traveled such a great distance?
Did they take a shortcut through the Arctic Circle?
Could the far northern lands beyond the Wall be connected to Yi Ti?
The idea felt too science-fiction-like in a world meant to be fantastical.
"We also destroyed the successor kingdom of Hyrkoon," the elder continued.
"Forgive my ignorance, but why such a peculiar name as the 'Successor Kingdom of Hyrkoon'?" Daenerys asked curiously.
She thought to herself, Might as well call it the 'Brotherhood of Hyrkoon.'
"Ah, even as their enemies, we Jogos Nhai must acknowledge the greatness of Hyrkoon," the elder sighed before asking, "Khaleesi, are you familiar with the Red Sword of Heroes?"
Daenerys thought for a moment before recalling a childhood tale about the Red Sword. "Are you referring to Lightbringer?"
Jorah stiffened. "Eight thousand years ago, during the Long Night, the White Walkers plunged the entire world into endless darkness and cold. Snow and ice nearly erased the continent of Westeros from the map.
At humanity's darkest hour, a hero emerged—Azor Ahai.
Wielding the Red Sword of Heroes, filled with light and heat, he defeated the darkness and brought warmth and light back to the world."
"That's the one," the elder nodded, his tone tinged with reverence. "Azor Ahai was Hyrkoon. The story of the Long Night's end is told in every culture, each with its own version of the hero.
But the hero's name varies. In the West, he is called Azor Ahai. In the East, Hyrkoon's descendants know him as the Hero Hyrkoon. Yi Ti calls him Yi Tar. In Nefer, he is Nefarion. And among others, he is 'Shadow-Hunter' Edric.
Though he perished in that legendary age of heroes, prophecies of his rebirth have circulated in the East for five thousand years:
'After a long summer, when the stars bleed and icy darkness covers the world, a warrior will draw the flaming sword from the fire. This sword, Lightbringer, the Red Sword of Heroes, will mark the return of Azor Ahai, who will drive away the darkness.'
Given such a legacy, naming their nation the 'Successor Kingdom of Hyrkoon' is hardly surprising."
The elder puffed his chest and raised his voice with pride. "But we Jogos Nhai destroyed that ancient kingdom. Today, only three fortress-cities remain: Samyriana, Kayakayanaya, and Bayasabhad. They are the last remnants of Hyrkoon's descendants.
When I was younger, I followed the Jahatta on the Steel Road, waging a three-year campaign against Kayakayanaya. I personally scaled its walls twice."
Daenerys was genuinely impressed. Compared to the Jogos Nhai, the Dothraki, who mostly pillaged statues of other people's heroes, had little to boast about.
The Nine Free Cities, for example, remained untouched by the Dothraki. How underwhelming!
But this was just the appetizer—the proud history of the Jogos Nhai continued.
"Nefer and the Successor Kingdom of Hyrkoon were minor states in the East. The true hegemon is the Golden Empire of Yi Ti."
"The Golden Empire?" Daenerys raised an eyebrow, finding the name ostentatious.
"It is no exaggeration," the elder said, mistaking her skepticism for doubt about the empire's grandeur. With a solemn expression, he explained, "The Golden Empire of Yi Ti is the land of a thousand gods and a hundred kings. Its ruler is the one true Celestial Emperor."
Back then, the Valyrians were still herding sheep in the wild!
The Celestial Emperor was undeniably the most powerful ruler in the known world. His armies were unimaginably vast, his wealth rivaled that of the Valyrian Freehold at its peak, and his palace dwarfed the Andal stronghold of King's Landing. Even the floor of his bedchamber was made of solid gold."
"Have you ever been to King's Landing, sir?" Ser Jorah muttered darkly.
As a loyal subject of the Seven Kingdoms, the notion that King's Landing could be outshone by the palace of Yi Ti's emperor left him sour.
The old "Zebra Man" glanced at him and replied with a faint smile, "The stench of filth and rotting fish from the Fisherman's Square in King's Landing is unforgettable."
Impressive—this elder of the Jogos Nhai had truly traveled thousands of miles to King's Landing.
Daenerys quickly steered the conversation back. "Did the courageous Jogos Nhai manage to overthrow the Golden Empire of Yi Ti as well?"
"Not quite," the elder shook his head, his tone a mixture of pride and regret. "For thousands of years, we raided the northern regions of Yi Ti, but all we achieved was forcing the Celestial Emperor to repeatedly move the capital further south.
Once, there arose a young and valiant ruler in Yi Ti, Emperor Robao. He was industrious, visionary, and reformed the court, nearly restoring the empire to its former Golden Age.
During his reign, even we proud and rebellious Jogos Nhai had no choice but to pay tribute and submit to him.
However, Emperor Robao believed that the Jogos Nhai bowed to power without loyalty—that we would betray him the moment his strength faltered."
Daenerys nodded thoughtfully. It seemed Emperor Robao was indeed a shrewd leader.
The elder admitted grudgingly, "He wasn't wrong. When the Golden Empire was strong, we had no choice but to submit. But when it weakened, only a fool wouldn't raid it."
"Uh…"
The old Jogos Nhai man's bluntness left Daenerys at a loss for words.
"What's wrong with that?" the elder declared, downing a cup of wine. "When Yi Ti was weak, they sent our Jahatta gold and women to buy peace. When they grew strong, they slaughtered my people en masse.
The strong oppressing the weak is the natural order of things. What's against nature is the weak oppressing the strong."
"Did Emperor Robao oppress you?" Jorah asked.
"No, he didn't just want to oppress us—he wanted to eradicate us, to wipe out the Jogos Nhai completely," the elder slammed his hand on his thigh and roared angrily, "It was outrageous!"
Daenerys sighed inwardly, lamenting the untapped potential of such an ambitious emperor. Clearly, since this elder was here, alive and loudly cursing, Emperor Robao had been neither a Han Wudi nor a Tang Taizong.
(End of Chapter)
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