ASOS 70 – Jon IX

Un chapitre en deux temps. En relecture, la bataille m’a fait un peu bailler (connaissant l’enjeu et la fin, je crois que cela ne me passionne pas. Même si ça fait deux fois que j’attends Stannis débarquer^^). Le second temps est bien plus intéressant à mes yeux

Owen est assez clairvoyant, quand il parle de lord Snow, de l’Aube et du roi qui vient sauver le Mur (il se trompe juste sur le nom du roi)

“Lord Snow,” said Owen, shaking his shoulder, “the dawn.”  /

“I had a dream that the king had come,” Owen said happily. “Maester Aemon sent a raven, and King Robert came with all his strength. I dreamed I saw his golden banners.”

Jon made himself smile. “That would be a welcome sight to see, Owen.”

Il y a un combat « à distance » entre Mance et la Garde. Pyp tient le Mur et a de l’humour, pourtant il y a des morts pour de vrais, et aussi pour des pantins

Already their archers were stealing forward, pushing their rolling mantlets. “Here come our breakfast arrows,” Pyp announced cheerfully, as he did every morning. It’s good that he can make a jape of it, Jon thought. Someone has to. Three days ago, one of those breakfast arrows had caught Red Alyn of the Rosewood in the leg. You could still see his body at the foot of the Wall, if you cared to lean out far enough. Jon had to think that it was better for them to smile at Pyp’s jest than to brood over Alyn’s corpse.

The mantlets were slanting wooden shields, wide enough for five of the free folk to hide behind. The archers pushed them close, then knelt behind them to loose their arrows through slits in the wood. The first time the wildlings rolled them out, Jon had called for fire arrows and set a half-dozen ablaze, but after that Mance started covering them with raw hides. All the fire arrows in the world couldn’t make them catch now. The brothers had even started wagering as to which of the straw sentinels would collect the most arrows before they were done. Dolorous Edd was leading with four, but Othell Yarwyck, Tumberjon, and Watt of Long Lake had three apiece. It was Pyp who’d started naming the scarecrows after their missing brothers, too. “It makes it seem as if there’s more of us,” he said.

“More of us with arrows in our bellies,” Grenn complained, but the custom did seem to give his brothers heart, so Jon let the names stand and the wagering continue.

Jon utilise la lentille de Myr du mestre pour voir les préparatifs de la tortue (non, rien d’Estremont ici). Jon agit encore comme chef en envoyant Grenn se reposer tant qu’il peut (et vu qu’il est nécessaire au maniement des barriques de défense). On a des nouvelles de l’extérieur mais les perspectives ne sont pas réjouissantes

The sight of Mance’s turtle had robbed Jon of his appetite. Their oil was all but gone, and the last barrel of pitch had been rolled off the Wall two nights ago. They would soon run short of arrows as well, and there were no fletchers making more. And the night before last, a raven had come from the west, from Ser Denys Mallister. Bowen Marsh had chased the wildlings all the way to the Shadow Tower, it seemed, and then farther, down into the gloom of the Gorge. At the Bridge of Skulls he had met the Weeper and three hundred wildlings and won a bloody battle. But the victory had been a costly one. More than a hundred brothers slain, among them Ser Endrew Tarth and Ser Aladale Wynch. The Old Pomegranate himself had been carried back to the Shadow Tower sorely wounded. Maester Mullin was tending him, but it would be some time before he was fit to return to Castle Black.

When he had read that, Jon had dispatched Zei to Mole’s Town on their best horse to plead with the villagers to help man the Wall. She never returned. When he sent Mully after her, he came back to report the whole village deserted, even the brothel. Most likely Zei had followed them, straight down the kingsroad. Maybe we should all do the same, Jon reflected glumly.

Ensuite, c’est l’assaut et la Garde pulvérise la tortue. Mais a moins de munitions qu’avant alors que Mance a semble-t-il une infinité de soldats. Jon laisse le Mur à Pyp et part prendre du vinsonge pour entrer dans la seconde partie. Thorne et Slynt… joli duo…

Ce passage m’a beaucoup plus intéressé. L’ambiance est tendue. On est du côté de Jon, bien entendu et ce dernier se défend, à la limite de l’insolence (lui qui est lord Snow)

Jon swallowed his anger. “I abandoned no one. I left the Fist with Qhorin Halfhand to scout the Skirling Pass. I joined the wildlings under orders. The Halfhand feared that Mance might have found the Horn of Winter . . .”

“The Horn of Winter?” Ser Alliser chuckled. “Were you commanded to count their snarks as well, Lord Snow?”

“No, but I counted their giants as best I could.”

“Ser,” snapped the jowly man. “You will address Ser Alliser as ser, and myself as m’lord. I am Janos Slynt, Lord of Harrenhal, and commander here at Castle Black until such time as Bowen Marsh returns with his garrison. You will grant us our courtesies, yes. I will not suffer to hear an anointed knight like the good Ser Alliser mocked by a traitor’s bastard.” He raised a hand and pointed a meaty finger at Jon’s face. “Do you deny that you took a wildling woman into your bed?”

“No.” Jon’s grief over Ygritte was too fresh for him to deny her now. “No, my lord.”

“I suppose it was also the Halfhand who commanded you to fuck this unwashed whore?” Ser Alliser asked with a smirk.

“Ser. She was no whore, ser. The Halfhand told me not to balk, whatever the wildlings asked of me, but . . . I will not deny that I went beyond what I had to do, that I . . . cared for her.”

“You admit to being an oathbreaker, then,” said Janos Slynt.

Half the men at Castle Black visited Mole’s Town from time to time to dig for buried treasures in the brothel, Jon knew, but he would not dishonor Ygritte by equating her with the Mole’s Town whores. “I broke my vows with a woman. I admit that. Yes.”

“Yes, m’lord!”

On sort Clinquefrac qui sans son armure est moins impressionnant. Il ne porte toujours pas Jon dans son coeur mais son accusation ne le grandit pas dans le coeur de Slynt (on ne peut pas tout le temps gagner).

“Your lies won’t save you now, Lord Snow,” warned Ser Alliser Thorne. “We’ll have the truth from you, bastard.”

“I’ve told you the truth. Our garrons were failing, and Rattleshirt was close behind us. Qhorin told me to pretend to join the wildlings. ‘You must not balk, whatever is asked of you,’ he said. He knew they would make me kill him. Rattleshirt was going to kill him anyway, he knew that too.”

“So now you claim the great Qhorin Halfhand feared this creature?” Slynt looked at Rattleshirt, and snorted.

“All men fear the Lord o’ Bones,” the wildling grumbled. Ser Glendon kicked him, and he lapsed back into silence.

“I never said that,” Jon insisted.

Et là, estocade, ils s’en prennent à Jon et aux Stark

“He murdered Qhorin just as his fellow turncloaks did Lord Mormont. It would not surprise me to learn that it was all part of the same fell plot. Benjen Stark may well have a hand in all this as well. For all we know, he is sitting in Mance Rayder’s tent even now. You know these Starks, my lord.”

“I do,” said Janos Slynt. “I know them too well.”

Le lectorat est forcément outré 😀 En plus, le septon (ivre comme toujours) va dans leur sens

Jon peeled off his glove and showed them his burned hand. “I burned my hand defending Lord Mormont from a wight. And my uncle was a man of honor. He would never have betrayed his vows.”

“No more than you?” mocked Ser Alliser.

Septon Cellador cleared his throat. “Lord Slynt,” he said, “this boy refused to swear his vows properly in the sept, but went beyond the Wall to say his words before a heart tree. His father’s gods, he said, but they are wildling gods as well.”

Heureusement Aemon défend Jon et son appui est important. Même si cela ne suffit pas

“Well, promise may turn false. Qhorin Halfhand’s blood is on his hands. Mormont trusted him, you say, but what of that? I know what it is to be betrayed by men you trusted. Oh, yes. And I know the ways of wolves as well.” He pointed at Jon’s face. “Your father died a traitor.”

“My father was murdered.” Jon was past caring what they did to him, but he would not suffer any more lies about his father.

Slynt purpled. “Murder? You insolent pup. King Robert was not even cold when Lord Eddard moved against his son.” He rose to his feet; a shorter man than Mormont, but thick about the chest and arms, with a gut to match. A small gold spear tipped with red enamel pinned his cloak at the shoulder. “Your father died by the sword, but he was highborn, a King’s Hand. For you, a noose will serve. Ser Alliser, take this turncloak to an ice cell.”

“My lord is wise.” Ser Alliser seized Jon by the arm.

Jon se défend ce qui le condamne comme sauvageon. Fin du chapitre

Attendez, le Mur va tomber, manque d’hommes et les frères se battent entre eux ? Et en plus, Jon perd? Rien ne va plus !!!!

Merci pour cette analyse.

Comme toi Gray j’ai été surpris par le rêve d’Owen ; serait-il prophétique ? Il dit avoir vu en rêve le roi Robert les secourir avec toutes ses forces et ses bannières d’or. À part que ce sera le roi Stannis il a tout bon.

Alors le Ballot ferait-il des rêves prophétiques ? Après tout ce ne serait pas le premier « simplet » touché par la grâce..!

Bon et le retour de Janos Slynt… Raa comment ne pas le détester. Jon se montre brave et ce sera la prison glacée. Je reste surpris du toupet de Slynt, d’accord dans sa vie précédente il s’est élevé, mais depuis il a été condamné au Mur et perdu ses titres et privilèges, non ? Qu’il les réclame s’il le veut mais ça ne le rend pas plus légitime à juger qui que ce soit.

Un sentiment de peine et de grisaille infinie en cette primo lecture, avec l’impression que rien ne pourrait changer le cours des choses.