A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle

was made even longer by a beard of wiry red-black hair bound with rings of gold. His purple
tokar
was fringed with amethysts and pearls. “Your Radiance will know the reason I am here.”
    â€œWhy,” she said, “it must be because you have no other purpose but to plague me. How many times have I refused you?”
    â€œFive times, Your Magnificence.”
    â€œSix, now. I will not have the fighting pits reopened.”
    â€œIf Your Majesty will hear my arguments . . .”
    â€œI have. Five times. Have you brought new arguments?”
    â€œOld arguments,” Hizdahr admitted, “new words. Lovely words, and courteous, more apt to move a queen.”
    â€œIt is your cause I find wanting, not your courtesies. I have heard your arguments so often I could plead your case myself. Shall I?” She leaned forward. “The fighting pits have been a part of Meereen since the city was founded. The combats are profoundly religious in nature, a blood sacrifice to the gods of Ghis. The
mortal art
of Ghis is not mere butchery, but a display of courage, skill, and strength most pleasing to the gods. Victorious fighters are well fed, pampered, and acclaimed, and the heroic slain are honored and remembered. By reopening the pits I would show the people of Meereen that I respect their ways and customs. The pits are far-famed across the world. They draw trade to Meereen, and fill the city’s coffers with coin from the far ends of the earth. All men share a taste for blood, a taste the pits help slake. In that way they make Meereen more tranquil. For criminals condemned to die upon the sands, the pits represent a judgment by battle, a last chance for a man to prove his innocence.” Dany tossed her hair. “There. How have I done?”
    â€œYour Radiance has stated the case much better than I could have hoped to do myself. I see that you are eloquent as well as beautiful. I am quite persuaded.”
    She had to laugh. “Very good . . . but I am not.”
    â€œYour Magnificence,” whispered Reznak mo Reznak in her ear, “if I might remind you, it is customary for the city to claim one-tenth of all the profits from the fighting pits, after expenses, as a tax. That coin might be put to many noble uses.”
    â€œIt might,” she agreed, “though if we
were
to reopen the pits, we should take our tenth before expenses. I am only a young girl and know little of trade, but I dwelled with Illyrio Mopatis and Xaro Xhoan Daxos long enough to know that much. It makes no matter. Hizdahr, if you could marshal armies as you marshal arguments, you could conquer the world . . . but my answer is still no. For the sixth time.”
    He bowed again, as deeply as before. His pearls and amethysts clattered softly against the marble floor. A very limber man was Hizdahr zo Loraq. “The queen has spoken.”
    He might be handsome, but for that silly hair.
Reznak and the Green Grace had been urging Dany to take a Meereenese noble for her husband, to reconcile the city to her rule. If it came to that, Hizdahr zo Loraq might be worth a careful look.
Sooner him than Skahaz.
The Shavepate had offered to set aside his wife for her, but the notion made her shudder. Hizdahr at least knew how to smile, though when Dany tried to imagine what it would be like to share a bed with him, she almost laughed aloud.
    â€œMagnificence,” said Reznak, consulting his list, “the noble Grazdan zo Galare would address you. Will you hear him?”
    â€œIt would be my pleasure,” said Dany, admiring the glimmer of the gold and the sheen of the green pearls on Cleon’s slippers while doing her best to ignore the pinching in her toes. Grazdan, she had been forewarned, was a cousin of the Green Grace, whose support she had found invaluable. The priestess was a voice for peace, acceptance, and obedience to lawful authority.
I can give her cousin a respectful hearing, whatever he desires.
    What he desired turned out to be gold. Dany had refused to compensate any of the Great Masters for the value of the slaves that she had freed, but the Meereenese kept devising other ways to try to squeeze coin from her. The noble Grazdan was one such. He had once owned a slave woman who was a very fine weaver, he told her; the fruits of her loom were greatly valued, not only in Meereen, but in New Ghis and Astapor and Qarth. When this woman had grown old, Grazdan had purchased half a dozen young girls