ADWD 28 – Tyrion VII

Ah donc, Tyrion et son ravisseur sont arrivés à Volantis. Il faudra très longtemps avant qu’on ne mette un nom sur ce ravisseur, et que le quiproquo de « la reine » soit dissipé (Jorah veut amener Tyrion à Daenerys, pas à Cersei).

C’est notre deuxième visite de la ville après Quentyn et compagnie. Jorah parle un peu volantain ce qui permet d’entrer en ville. Mais ensuite, on voit que Tyrion et lui ne sont pas sur la même longueur d’ondes (on dirait un buddy movie à la Terence Hill et Bud Spencer).

“Might be all I want is to see you pay for crimes. The kinslayer is accursed in the eyes of gods and men.”

“The gods are blind. And men see only what they wish.”

“I see you plain enough, Imp.” Something dark had crept into the knight’s tone. “I have done things I am not proud of, things that brought shame onto my House and my father’s name … but to kill your own sire? How could any man do that?”

“Give me a crossbow and pull down your breeches, and I’ll show you.” Gladly.

“You think this is a jape?”

“I think life is a jape. Yours, mine, everyone’s.”

On repasse en ville, voit les statues décapitées et plus généralement une ville entre grandeur et décadence

Mighty Volantis, grandest and most populous of the Nine Free Cities. Ancient wars had depopulated much of the city, however, and large areas of Volantis had begun to sink back into the mud on which it stood. Beautiful Volantis, city of fountains and flowers. But half the fountains were dry, half the pools cracked and stagnant. Flowering vines sent up creepers from every crack in the wall or pavement, and young trees had taken root in the walls of abandoned shops and roofless temples.

Tyrion provoque Jorah mais pas trop car il a encore des séquelles des fois précédentes

His lip was still fat and swollen from the last time he had pushed the big knight too far. Hard hands and no sense of humor makes for a bad marriage. That much he’d learned on the road from Selhorys. His thoughts went to his boot, to the mushrooms in the toe. His captor had not searched him quite as thoroughly as he might have. There is always that escape. Cersei will not have me alive, at least.

Long passage sur les éléphants qui passent dans la rue (et une petite pensée « sympathique » pour Cersei). Cela dit, même un peu décrépie, la ville est immense

Seven save me, that’s got to be three times the size of the Great Sept of Baelor. An enormity of pillars, steps, buttresses, bridges, domes, and towers flowing into one another as if they had all been chiseled from one collossal rock, the Temple of the Lord of Light loomed like Aegon’s High Hill.

Vous aussi, vous tiquez sur « Fire turned to stone » ?

Benerro est là et harangue la foule (on apprécie le point Star Wars)

Benerro jabbed a finger at the moon, made a fist, spread his hands wide. When his voice rose in a crescendo, flames leapt from his fingers with a sudden whoosh and made the crowd gasp. The priest could trace fiery letters in the air as well. Valyrian glyphs. Tyrion recognized perhaps two in ten; one was Doom, the other Darkness.

Shouts erupted from the crowd. Women were weeping and men were shaking their fists. I have a bad feeling about this. The dwarf was reminded of the day Myrcella sailed for Dorne and the riot that boiled up as they made their way back to the Red Keep.

Tout cela fait que Tyrion réfléchit à la stratégie de Griff et compagnie : utiliser Benerro, aller vers l’est ?

Haldon Halfmaester had spoken of using the red priest to Young Griff’s advantage, Tyrion recalled. Now that he had seen and heard the man himself, that struck him as a very bad idea. He hoped that Griff had better sense. Some allies are more dangerous than enemies. But Lord Connington will need to puzzle that one out for himself. I am like to be a head on a spike.

/

Prince Aegon will find no friend here. The red priest spoke of ancient prophecy, a prophecy that foretold the coming of a hero to deliver the world from darkness. One hero. Not two. Daenerys has dragons, Aegon does not. The dwarf did not need to be a prophet himself to foresee how Benerro and his followers might react to a second Targaryen. Griff will see that too, surely, he thought, surprised to find how much he cared.

C’est vrai ça, Tyrion, pourquoi ça t’intéresse tant ?

Ils s’en vont, Jorah vend son cheval et menotte Tyrion qui proteste (pour la forme car il n’est pas en position de force)

These bloody things weigh more than I do. Still, at least he drew breath. His captor could just as easily have cut his head off. That was all Cersei required, after all. Not striking it off straightaway had been his captor’s first mistake. There is half a world between Volantis and King’s Landing, and much and more can happen along the way, ser.

Ils marchent, en faisant du bruit (surtout Tyrion) et passent le pont

Here and there, between the shops, a traveler might catch a glimpse of the river he was crossing. To the north the Rhoyne was a broad black ribbon bright with stars, five times as wide as the Blackwater Rush at King’s Landing. South of the bridge the river opened up to embrace the briny sea.

Rencontre intéressante : trois têtes.

“What did they do?” Tyrion inquired innocently.

The knight glanced at the inscriptions. “The woman was a slave who raised her hand to her mistress. The older man was accused of fomenting rebellion and spying for the dragon queen.”

“And the young one?”

“Killed his father.”

Tyrion gave the rotting head a second look. Why, it almost looks as if those lips are smiling.

Vous aussi vous vous dites que la deuxième tête est la plus intéressante, qu’elle est planquée au milieu des deux autres et que personne n’en parle ????

Jorah achète des gants et va dans une immense auberge. Tyrion espère y retrouver Griff et sa bande (et suppose donc qu’ils vont le sauver alors que ce n’est pas trop le mood de JonC à ce qu’on a vu… et en plus ils ne sont pas là)

Tyrion approved the choice of hostelry. Soon or late the Shy Maid must reach Volantis. This was the city’s biggest inn, first choice for shippers, captains, and merchantmen. A lot of business was done in that cavernous warren of a common room. He knew enough of Volantis to know that. Let Griff turn up here with Duck and Haldon, and he would be free again soon enough.

Meanwhile, he would be patient. His chance would come.

Jorah prend une chambre au 3e étage, ça pue un peu mais pour Tyrion c’est mieux que sa petite visite au Val. Malentendu sur « the queen » et Jorah va chercher à manger.

Tyrion envisage de se libérer mais en vain et regarde l’extérieur avec envie. Jorah revient avec du canard (hum) et de la bière. Il apprend que c’est le temps des élections à Volantis et que c’est un peu « open bar » pour les électeurs

“Is this some holy day?”

“Third day of their elections. They last for ten. Ten days of madness. Torchlight marches, speeches, mummers and minstrels and dancers, bravos fighting death duels for the honor of their candidates, elephants with the names of would-be triarchs painted on their sides. Those jugglers are performing for Methyso.”

“Remind me to vote for someone else.” Tyrion licked grease from his fingers. Below, the crowd was flinging coins at the jugglers. “Do all these would-be triarchs provide mummer shows?”

“They do whatever they think will win them votes,” said Mormont. “Food, drink, spectacle … Alios has sent a hundred pretty slave girls out into the streets to lie with voters.”

“I’m for him,” Tyrion decided. “Bring me a slave girl.”

“They’re for freeborn Volantenes with enough property to vote. Precious few voters west of the river.”

Cela permet de parler de système politique et de comparaison entre Westeros et Volantis

“A few have tried. Might be the Volantenes are the clever ones and us Westerosi the fools. Volantis has known her share of follies, but she’s never suffered a boy triarch. Whenever a madman’s been elected, his colleagues restrain him until his year has run its course. Think of the dead who might still live if Mad Aerys only had two fellow kings to share the rule.”

Et là on en apprend plus sur Jorah et sa connaissance de la culture locale

“I spent the best part of a year here.” The knight sloshed the dregs at the bottom of his tankard. “When Stark drove me into exile, I fled to Lys with my second wife. Braavos would have suited me better, but Lynesse wanted someplace warm. Instead of serving the Braavosi I fought them on the Rhoyne, but for every silver I earned my wife spent ten. By the time I got back to Lys, she had taken a lover, who told me cheerfully that I would be enslaved for debt unless I gave her up and left the city. That was how I came to Volantis … one step ahead of slavery, owning nothing but my sword and the clothes upon my back.”

Pendant la nuit, Tyrion envisage de s’échapper (voire pire pour Jorah) mais ce n’est pas si simple. Et même s’il arrivait, que faire ensuite ? Au matin, Tyrion est un peu moins entravé. Pendant le repas, Tyrion apprend que la compagnie dorée cherche des bateaux pour aller à l’ouest ce qui laisse Tyrion interdit

Turned them west instead of east, abandoning his hopes of wedding Queen Daenerys? Abandoning the dragons … would Griff allow that?

Tyrion cogite encore sur la stratégie de Griff et si elle peut fonctionner. On dérive vers la veuve que Jorah veut voir. Son histoire, tout ça (typiquement GRRM). L’entretien commence et par chance, elle parle en ouestrien (vous imaginez si elle et Jorah avaient parlé en langue locale ?)

Jorah offre ses gants (un peu cheap) et Tyrion apprend qu’il cherche un passage pour Meereen donc pas du tout pour retrouver Cersei. Pendant que Tyrion est forcé de cacher sa joie, Jorah et la veuve négocient (et l’auteur nous balance des informations sur le monde actuel et sur les premières triarques de l’histoire), mais Jorah ne sait pas trop y faire

“Triarch Malaquo tried to hire the Golden Company, did you know? He meant to clean out the red temple and put Benerro to the sword. He dare not use tiger cloaks. Half of them worship the Lord of Light as well. Oh, these are dire days in Old Volantis, even for wrinkled old widows. But not half so dire as in Meereen, I think. So tell me, ser … why do you seek the silver queen?”

“That is my concern. I can pay for our passage and pay well. I have the silver.”

Fool, thought Tyrion. It’s not coin she wants, it’s respect. Haven’t you heard a word she’s said?

Et elle le perce à jour

“Keep your silver. I have gold. And spare me your black looks, ser. I am too old to be frightened of a scowl. You are a hard man, I see, and no doubt skilled with that long sword at your side, but this is my realm. Let me crook a finger and you may find yourself traveling to Meereen chained to an oar in the belly of a galley.” (…) . “(…) It is such a sweet morning, though, I shall ask again. Why would you seek Daenerys Targaryen, whom half the world wants dead?”

Jorah Mormont’s face was dark with anger, but he answered. “To serve her. Defend her. Die for her, if need be.”

That made the widow laugh. “You want to rescue her, is that the way of it? From more enemies than I can name, with swords beyond count … this is what you’d have the poor widow believe? That you are a true and chivalrous Westerosi knight crossing half the world to come to the aid of this … well, she is no maiden, though she may still be fair.”

Après une grosse pique aux Lannister (oui j’ai lu le wiki et l’hypothèse Gerion), elle pose la même question à Tyrion

“What do you plan to offer the dragon queen, little man?”

My hate, Tyrion wanted to say. Instead he spread his hands as far as the fetters would allow. “Whatever she would have of me. Sage counsel, savage wit, a bit of tumbling. My cock, if she desires it. My tongue, if she does not. I will lead her armies or rub her feet, as she desires. And the only reward I ask is I might be allowed to rape and kill my sister.”

That brought the smile back to the old woman’s face. “This one at least is honest,” she announced, “but you, ser … I have known a dozen Westerosi knights and a thousand adventurers of the same ilk, but none so pure as you would paint yourself. Men are beasts, selfish and brutal. However gentle the words, there are always darker motives underneath. I do not trust you, ser.”

La veuve refuse de les aider quand Tyrion se fait attaquer par Sol (présente au mariage de Joffrey etc). Et hop la veuve les aide

When they were gone, the widow studied Tyrion, her black eyes shining. “Monsters should be larger, it seems to me. You are worth a lordship back in Westeros, little man. Here, I fear, your worth is somewhat less. But I think I had best help you after all. Volantis is no safe place for dwarfs, it seems.”

Le bateau est pour Qarth mais Benerro a vu qu’il n’y arriverait pas

“Should you reach your queen, give her a message from the slaves of Old Volantis.” She touched the faded scar upon her wrinkled cheek, where her tears had been cut away. “Tell her we are waiting. Tell her to come soon.”

Fin très dramatique d’un chapitre où on a bien avancé (mais on va récupérer Sol, snif). Néanmoins, le retournement de la veuve parait bien soudain, ou sinon elle y pensait depuis le début.

Merci à tous les deux pour vos analyses (et vu que je poste peu, à toutes les autres personnes qui commentent lors des chapitres précédents et à venir 😀 )

Sandrenal wrote:

Je me demande bien comment des triarques ont pu autoriser une religion étrangère à la leur à se militariser dans leur propre cité. Cersei a fait la même erreur dans AFFC.

J’avais pas fait le rapprochement 🙂 Idem pour la décadence, en cours de processus à Port Réal depuis… (?) même si c’est sur un temps + court. L’arrivée du perso de Benerro me plait bien en tout cas (même si c’est tardif…). Et j’aime beaucoup quand des personnages présentés depuis longtemps se rejoignent enfin (même si c’est tardif…).

On a beaucoup parlé de la politique de Volantis ici, et c’est vrai que le chapitre se concentre beaucoup là-dessus. Mais ce chapitre est aussi l’introduction de la très suspecte Sol, qui ici tente de tuer Tyrion, mais qui, après une discussion avec la veuve du front de fleuve dans ce chapitre, sera par la suite beaucoup moins hostile à notre nain POV préféré.

Ce chapitre introduit aussi le <i>Selaesori Qhoran</i>, et oui, j’ai dû faire un copié-collé pour éviter de faire une faute d’orthographe dans le nom de ce bateau. Le Sélésorry Coran, donc, dont le nom signifie <i>L’intendant parfumé</i>, ce qui en fait le principal suspect pour être le sénéchal parfumé de la “prophétie” de Quaithe. Ce qui est intéressant dans ladite prophétie de Quaithe, c’est qu’elle ne semble pas vraiment prédire l’avenir : elle prévoit l’arrivée notamment du griffon (Griff) et du dragon du comédien (fAegon) qui finalement partent vers l’ouest. Il semble donc que ce n’est pas tant une vision du futur qu’une vision des gens qui, au moment de Daenerys II, étaient en route pour la voir.

Or, le C’est-les-souris Coran n’était pas censé aller à Daenerys mais à Qarth. Il semblerait donc que Quaithe ait été au courant que le bateau n’allait pas atteindre sa destination prévue dés Daenerys II (elle prévoit également l’arrivée de Moqorro). Je ne sais pas trop ce que ça préfigure, mais il semblerait que les prophéties de Benerro et le plan d’envoyer Moqorro ne soit pas une improvisation de dernière minute.

Affaire à suivre.