It is not a matter of gold or horses. This is bloodmagic, lady. Only death may pay for life.
Death? Dany wrapped her arms around herself protectively, rocked back and forth on her heels. "My death?" She told herself she would die for him, if she must. She was the blood of the dragon, she would not be afraid. Her brother Rhaegar had died for the woman he loved.
No, Mirri Maz Duur promised. "Not your death, Khaleesi."
Dany trembled with relief. "Do it."
The maegi nodded solemnly. "As you speak, so it shall be done. Call your servants."
Khal Drogo writhed feebly as Rakharo and Quaro lowered him into the bath. "No," he muttered, "no. Must ride." Once in the water, all the strength seemed to leak out of him.
Bring his horse, Mirri Maz Duur commanded, and so it was done. Jhogo led the great red stallion into the tent. When the animal caught the scent of death, he screamed and reared, rolling his eyes. It took three men to subdue him.
What do you mean to do? Dany asked her.
We need the blood, Mirri answered. "That is the way."