ASOS 55 – Davos V

Ah Davos, tout le monde aime Davos ! Ce chapitre de transition est super bien placé. Après Port-Réal, on diffuse la nouvelle des Noces pourpres à Peyredragon. Et à la fin, on nous parle de l’appel de la Garde de Nuit avant de filer chez Jon. C’est bien pensé.

Première scène à Peyredragon avec tout le bataclan alors qu’ils apprennent la nouvelle. Chose bizarre, Stannis va plutôt défendre Davos en public puis l’affronter en privé.

Davos perçoit tout de suite l’horreur commise par les Frey. Les grenouilles (salamandres ?) de bénitier font montre de zèle religieux

At a wedding, thought Davos. As he sat at his slayer’s board, a guest beneath his roof. These Freys are cursed. He could smell the burning blood again, and hear the leech hissing and spitting on the brazier’s hot coals.

“It was the Lord’s wrath that slew him,” Ser Axell Florent declared. “It was the hand of R’hllor!”

“Praise the Lord of Light!” sang out Queen Selyse, a pinched thin hard woman with large ears and a hairy upper lip.

“Is the hand of R’hllor spotted and palsied?” asked Stannis. “This sounds more Walder Frey’s handiwork than any god’s.”

Il s’ensuit une longue discussion où les pro R’hlloriens disent que c’est grâce à eux (et leur dieu), que tout va s’accomplir pour Stannis. Ce dernier est circonspect (au moins). Surtout quand on redemande la peau d’Edric. Et même si tous (sauf Mélisandre) mettent un genou à terre

Ser Axell went to one knee. “On bended knee I beg you, sire. Wake the stone dragon and let the traitors tremble. Like Aegon you begin as Lord of Dragonstone. Like Aegon you shall conquer. Let the false and the fickle feel your flames.”

“Your own wife begs as well, lord husband.” Queen Selyse went down on both knees before the king, hands clasped as if in prayer. “Robert and Delena defiled our bed and laid a curse upon our union. This boy is the foul fruit of their fornications. Lift his shadow from my womb and I will bear you many trueborn sons, I know it.” She threw her arms around his legs. “He is only one boy, born of your brother’s lust and my cousin’s shame.”

“He is mine own blood. Stop clutching me, woman.” King Stannis put a hand on her shoulder, awkwardly untangling himself from her grasp. “Perhaps Robert did curse our marriage bed. He swore to me that he never meant to shame me, that he was drunk and never knew which bedchamber he entered that night. But does it matter? The boy was not at fault, whatever the truth.”

Melisandre put her hand on the king’s arm. “The Lord of Light cherishes the innocent. There is no sacrifice more precious. From his king’s blood and his untainted fire, a dragon shall be born.”

Cela nous donne l’occasion de parler des dragons du Donjon rouge quand Stannis était enfant (coucou Aerys, coucou Tywin). Alors que Stannis est en train de se dire que chevaucher un dragon, ce serait quand même bien et que donc…. Davos demande s’il peut intervenir. Heureuse diversion qui lui permet de dire que le compte n’y est pas

Warrior, make me brave. “I know little of dragons and less of gods . . . but the queen spoke of curses. No man is as cursed as the kinslayer, in the eyes of gods and men.”

“There are no gods save R’hllor and the Other, whose name must not be spoken.” Melisandre’s mouth made a hard red line. “And small men curse what they cannot understand.”

“I am a small man,” Davos admitted, “so tell me why you need this boy Edric Storm to wake your great stone dragon, my lady.” He was determined to say the boy’s name as often as he could.

“Only death can pay for life, my lord. A great gift requires a great sacrifice.”

“Where is the greatness in a baseborn child?”

“He has kings’ blood in his veins. You have seen what even a little of that blood could do—”

“I saw you burn some leeches.”

“And two false kings are dead.”

“Robb Stark was murdered by Lord Walder of the Crossing, and we have heard that Balon Greyjoy fell from a bridge. Who did your leeches kill?”

“Do you doubt the power of R’hllor?”

No. Davos remembered too well the living shadow that had squirmed from out her womb that night beneath Storm’s End, its black hands pressing at her thighs. I must go carefully here, or some shadow may come seeking me as well. “Even an onion smuggler knows two onions from three. You are short a king, my lady.”

Stannis gave a snort of laughter. “He has you there, my lady. Two is not three.”

Stannis renvoie tout le monde (mais on sous-entend que si Joffrey meurt, alors R’hllor existe) mais Davos reste pour parler d’Edric. Et là Stannis est (paraît ?) beaucoup moins assuré. Davos reste inflexible, jusqu’à risquer le cachot encore une fois

“I know the cost! Last night, gazing into that hearth, I saw things in the flames as well. I saw a king, a crown of fire on his brows, burning . . . burning, Davos. His own crown consumed his flesh and turned him into ash. Do you think I need Melisandre to tell me what that means? Or you?” The king moved, so his shadow fell upon King’s Landing. “If Joffrey should die . . . what is the life of one bastard boy against a kingdom?”

“Everything,” said Davos, softly.

Stannis looked at him, jaw clenched. “Go,” the king said at last, “before you talk yourself back into the dungeon.”

Sometimes the storm winds blow so strong a man has no choice but to furl his sails. “Aye, Your Grace.” Davos bowed, but Stannis had seemingly forgotten him already.

Davos s’en va et nous fait voir à nouveau que Peyredragon est très… exotique (en mode film gothique)

He raised his eyes to gaze up at the walls. In place of merlons, a thousand grotesques and gargoyles looked down on him, each different from all the others; wyverns, griffins, demons, manticores, minotaurs, basilisks, hellhounds, cockatrices, and a thousand queerer creatures sprouted from the castle’s battlements as if they’d grown there. And the dragons were everywhere. The Great Hall was a dragon lying on its belly. Men entered through its open mouth. The kitchens were a dragon curled up in a ball, with the smoke and steam of the ovens vented through its nostrils. The towers were dragons hunched above the walls or poised for flight; the Windwyrm seemed to scream defiance, while Sea Dragon Tower gazed serenely out across the waves. Smaller dragons framed the gates. Dragon claws emerged from walls to grasp at torches, great stone wings enfolded the smith and armory, and tails formed arches, bridges, and exterior stairs.

Davos had often heard it said that the wizards of Valyria did not cut and chisel as common masons did, but worked stone with fire and magic as a potter might work clay. But now he wondered. What if they were real dragons, somehow turned to stone?

“If the red woman brings them to life, the castle will come crashing down, I am thinking. What kind of dragons are full of rooms and stairs and furniture? And windows. And chimneys. And privy shafts.”

Alors qu’on m’explique. Il lit dans les pensées, Sladhor ? On apprend que Stannis a respecté les voeux de Davos au sujet de Celtigar (et Sladhor en est fort marri). Puis on a un passage qui fait quand même beaucoup penser au Silence d’Euron…

“A certain Lysene pirate once told me that a good smuggler stays out of sight,” Davos replied carefully. “Black sails, muffled oars, and a crew that knows how to hold their tongues.”

The Lyseni laughed. “A crew with no tongues is even better. Big strong mutes who cannot read or write.”

Sladhor retourne piller et Davos va chez mestre Pylos. Il apprend la lecture (à lier avec la remarque de Sladhor sur un bon équipage). Pylos l’a beaucoup réconforté quant à son nouveau rôle

“You are a notable captain,” the maester replied. “A captain rules his ship, does he not? He must navigate treacherous waters, set his sails to catch the rising wind, know when a storm is coming and how best to weather it. This is much the same.”

Pylos meant it kindly, but his assurances rang hollow. “It is not at all the same!” Davos had protested. “A kingdom’s not a ship . . . and a good thing, or this kingdom would be sinking. I know wood and rope and water, yes, but how will that serve me now? Where do I find the wind to blow King Stannis to his throne?”

The maester laughed at that. “And there you have it, my lord. Words are wind, you know, and you’ve blown mine away with your good sense. His Grace knows what he has in you, I think.”

“Onions,” said Davos glumly. “That is what he has in me. The King’s Hand should be a highborn lord, someone wise and learned, a battle commander or a great knight . . .”

“Ser Ryam Redwyne was the greatest knight of his day, and one of the worst Hands ever to serve a king. Septon Murmison’s prayers worked miracles, but as Hand he soon had the whole realm praying for his death. Lord Butterwell was renowned for wit, Myles Smallwood for courage, Ser Otto Hightower for learning, yet they failed as Hands, every one. As for birth, the dragonkings oft chose Hands from amongst their own blood, with results as various as Baelor Breakspear and Maegor the Cruel. Against this, you have Septon Barth, the blacksmith’s son the Old King plucked from the Red Keep’s library, who gave the realm forty years of peace and plenty.” Pylos smiled. “Read your history, Lord Davos, and you will see that your doubts are groundless.”

Une pensée pour Cressen, tout a changé depuis

The narrow twisting steps of Sea Dragon Tower had been a sore trial to Maester Cressen after he broke his hip. Davos still found himself missing the old man. He thought Stannis must as well. Pylos seemed clever and diligent and well-meaning, but he was so young, and the king did not confide in him as he had in Cressen. The old man had been with Stannis so long . . . Until he ran afoul of Melisandre, and died for it.

Davos est là, au milieu d’enfants qui sont plus doués que lui pour la lecture et l’écriture et ça le complexe. Sensé et touchant, ce Davos (en plus il n’est pas ambitieux ni cruel…).

Davos demande un vrai parchemin de travail, pas un livre d’histoire. Et là, magie du scénario, c’est l’appel à l’aide de la Garde. Pfioulala, imaginez s’il avait voulu lire la Conquête de Dorne !!

Davos suddenly realized just what he was reading. He turned the letter over, and saw that the wax that had sealed it had been black. “This is from the Night’s Watch. Maester, has King Stannis seen this letter?”

“I brought it to Lord Alester when it first arrived. He was the Hand then. I believed he discussed it with the queen. When I asked him if he wished to send a reply, he told me not to be a fool. ‘His Grace lacks the men to fight his own battles, he has none to waste on wildlings,’ he said to me.”

That was true enough. And this talk of five kings would certainly have angered Stannis. “Only a starving man begs bread from a beggar,” he muttered.

“Pardon, my lord?”

“Something my wife said once.”

(il parle comme Colombo^^). Et on voit bien l’action d’Alester et de la reine…

Or Davos connaît un peu Fort Levant et les sauvageons. J’avais complètement oublié cette anecdote

The first time he had seen the Wall he had been younger than Devan, serving aboard the Cobblecat under Roro Uhoris, a Tyroshi known up and down the narrow sea as the Blind Bastard, though he was neither blind nor baseborn. Roro had sailed past Skagos into the Shivering Sea, visiting a hundred little coves that had never seen a trading ship before. He brought steel; swords, axes, helms, good chainmail hauberks, to trade for furs, ivory, amber, and obsidian. When the Cobblecat turned back south her holds were stuffed, but in the Bay of Seals three black galleys came out to herd her into Eastwatch. They lost their cargo and the Bastard lost his head, for the crime of trading weapons to the wildlings.

Davos had traded at Eastwatch in his smuggling days. The black brothers made hard enemies but good customers, for a ship with the right cargo. But while he might have taken their coin, he had never forgotten how the Blind Bastard’s head had rolled across the Cobblecat’s deck. “I met some wildlings when I was a boy,” he told Maester Pylos. “They were fair thieves but bad hagglers. One made off with our cabin girl. All in all, they seemed men like any other men, some fair, some foul.”

“Men are men,” Maester Pylos agreed.

Et Davos se demande bien quoi faire de cette information

“My lord, are you unwell?” asked Pylos.

I am frightened, Maester, he might have said. Davos was remembering a tale Salladhor Saan had told him, of how Azor Ahai tempered Lightbringer by thrusting it through the heart of the wife he loved. He slew his wife to fight the dark. If Stannis is Azor Ahai come again, does that mean Edric Storm must play the part of Nissa Nissa? “I was thinking, Maester. My pardons.” What harm if some wildling king conquers the north? It was not as though Stannis held the north. His Grace could scarcely be expected to defend people who refused to acknowledge him as king. “Give me another letter,” he said abruptly. “This one is too . . .”

“. . . difficult?” suggested Pylos.

Soon comes the cold, whispered Melisandre, and the night that never ends. “Troubling,” said Davos. “Too . . . troubling. A different letter, please.”

Nous, on sait ce qu’il va faire. Team Davos, un des rares qui tient le cap !

Merci pour la relecture de ce chapitre a priori moins sombre que d’autres. Sauf pour le fanatisme.

Hizieł wrote:

De fait, il semble obligé de souscrire à contrecœur à ce qu’elle dit, malgré son scepticisme, ce qui explique également que dès lors que Davos exprime des réserves sur le rôle de R’hllor dans les morts de Balon Greyjoy et Robb Stark, Stannis saute sur l’occasion Stannis émit un ricannement nasal : « Il vous marque un point madame »

En effet, Stannis doute. Sans doute à raison: comme stratège il doit bien se douter que les préparatifs ayant mené à la mort de Robb Stark date d’avant les sangsues. Et il indique qu’il doutera même si Joffrey meurt aussi, en répondant 

« É-ven-tu-e-lle-ment »

à la question de savoir si il croira si ce troisième roi meurt aussi.

Hizieł wrote:

Toujours est-il que ces dragons de pierre, Melisandre et ses adeptes ne font que promettre à Stannis qu’ils pourront s’éveiller s’il décide de sacrifier Edric Storm, le fils bâtard de son frère.

J’ai l’impression que Selyse n’est pas sur la même ligne que Melisandre et pense plutôt 

«Ôtez son ombre de mon sein et je vous porterai, je le sais, maint fils légitime»

De plus, elle considère Edric comme un « fruit fétide » alors que Melisandre parle du « sang royal et du feu sans tâche de celui-ci », nécessaire à un sacrifice précieux et efficace.

Hizieł wrote:

Après s’être retiré (Stannis n’ayant pas apprécié ladite réponse), Davos parcourt donc Peyredragon en voyant des dragons partout et retrouve son vieil ami Sladhor Saan ; qui parle d’un « cor magique qui ferait surgir les poulpes abyssaux » (cc Euron).

Avec Dompte-dragon et le Cor de Joramun, ça fait même 3 cors spéciaux. Encore le chiffre 3.

J’ai remarqué que, en VF, Sladhor citait Stannis « Pardonné, oui. Oublié, non» pour regretter l’abandon de l’attaque contre Pince-Isle.

On voit que Davos n’a pas été aussi discret qu’il le croyait quant à sa petite équipe. Parmi ces hommes, Ser Gerald Goüer dont les déclarations feraient plaisir à Tyrion « « R’hllor devait être un dieu bien débile pour laisser balayer ses adeptes par un gnome et un mort »

Concernant le fanatisme des adeptes, un autre me paraît inquiétant: c’est Devan.

de par sa réaction en apprenant la mort de ses frères

« Mes frères sont montés prendre place aux côtés du Maître en la Salle de la Lumière »

et son commentaire au sujet de Daeron Premier

« il adorait de faux dieux mais .. »