Répondre à : ADWD 61 – le prétendant éconduit

[R.Graymarch BarralPosts : 10575]

On retrouve Quentyn alors qu’on vient de laisser Barristan

Gerris revient de mission, il a repris contact avec les Erre-au-vent. Pourtant, au fond de lui, cela ne l’enchante pas

When I told him he slipped the knife away and asked if I was drunk or mad

/

When Barristan the Bold tells you to run, a wise man laces up his boots.

En tout cas, Archibald n’a pas envie de reprendre la mer. Quentyn a un plan : acheter les mercenaires (sans or, ça commence bien). On nous rappelle Harghaz qui est mort en tuant le dragon (mais pas tout seul^^). Après un peu de mépris (c’est quoi déjà son nom au mec ?)

“Hizdahr, Humzum, Hagnag, what does it matter? I call them all Harzoo. He was no dragonslayer. All he did was get his arse roasted black and crispy.”

“He was brave.” Would I have the courage to face that monster with nothing but a spear?

“He died bravely, is what you mean.”

“He died screaming,” said Arch.

Oh cette pensée de Quentyn…

Retour au mariage et peu de gens ont compris que c’était un moyen (Daenerys en trophée, pas ouf), pas une fin

They do not see. His friends had lost sight of his true purpose here. The road leads through her, not to her. Daenerys is the means to the prize, not the prize itself.

Quentyn pense qu’il a une Destinée, qu’il a les moyens de réussir, au point de s’auto-aveugler

‘I know why you are here. For fire and blood.’ I have Targaryen blood in me, you know that. I can trace my lineage back—”

“Fuck your lineage,” said Gerris. “The dragons won’t care about your blood, except maybe how it tastes. You cannot tame a dragon with a history lesson. They’re monsters, not maesters. ”

Ouch, touché.

Quentyn veut continuer pour ses compagnons morts. Mais pour Gerris, la mort n’a pas de sens

Men’s lives have meaning, not their deaths. I loved Will and Cletus too, but this will not bring them back to us. This is a mistake, Quent. You cannot trust in sellswords

Virée dans un coin louche de la ville avec mot de passe et tout

Zahrina a quand même une drôle de tenue, aigracieresque

a shriveled thing in a dark red tokar fringed with tiny golden skulls

Le prince en guenilles est là sans guenilles

An old sellsword is a cautious sellsword.

/

“A poor thing … yet those tatters fill my foes with fear, and on the battlefield the sight of my rags blowing in the wind emboldens my men more than any banner. And if I want to move unseen, I need only slip it off to become plain and un-remarkable.”

On parle de trahison et de nourriture, et au passage

It will not kill you, though. I have found that it is only when the food is tempting that one must beware. Poisoners invariably choose the choicest dishes.

Quentyn confirme qui il est mais le prince (qui est sans doute moins prince que Quentyn) préfère Frog (Guernouille, sérieusement ?). Ambiance tendue

Quentyn sat. One wrong word, and this could turn to blood in half a heartbeat. “I ask your pardon for our deception. The only ships sailing for Slaver’s Bay were those that had been hired to bring you to the wars.”

The Tattered Prince gave a shrug. “Every turncloak has his tale. You are not the first to swear me your swords, take my coin, and run. All of them have reasons.”

On découvre que le Prince a des moeurs pas si loin des mercenaires d’Harrenhal/Gregor : couper un membre d’une personne et lui donner le morceau à manger

En parlant du mariage, l’entourage du Prince dit que Daenerys s’est moquée de Quentyn, alors que non.

The Tattered Prince turned back to Quentyn. “Could that be true? Surely not. What of your marriage pact?”

“She laughed at him,” said Pretty Meris.

Daenerys never laughed. The rest of Meereen might see him as an amusing curiosity, like the exiled Summer Islander King Robert used to keep at King’s Landing, but the queen had always spoken to him gently. “We came too late,” said Quentyn.

“A pity you did not desert me sooner.”

Quentyn évolue la situation militaire pour faire miroiter le fait que le Prince sera peut-être sans employeur bientôt. Ca n’a pas l’air de trop l’inquiéter

“I have need of those swords. Dorne will hire you.”

The Tattered Prince glanced at Pretty Meris. “He does not lack for gall, this Frog. Must I remind him? My dear prince, the last contract we signed you used to wipe your pretty pink bottom.”

“I will double whatever the Yunkishmen are paying you.”

“And pay in gold upon the signing of our contract, yes?”

“I will pay you part when we reach Volantis, the rest when I am back in Sunspear. We brought gold with us when we set sail, but it would have been hard to conceal once we joined the company, so we gave it over to the banks. I can show you papers.”

“Ah. Papers. But we will be paid double.”

“Twice as many papers,” said Pretty Meris.

C’est mal parti… Le Prince accentue un peu

“So. Let me see if I understand. A proven liar and oathbreaker wishes to contract with us and pay in promises. And for what services? I wonder. Are my Windblown to smash the Yunkai’i and sack the Yellow City? Defeat a Dothraki khalasar in the field? Escort you home to your father? Or will you be content if we deliver Queen Daenerys to your bed wet and willing? Tell me true, Prince Frog. What would you have of me and mine?”

“I need you to help me steal a dragon.”

Et le Prince dit qu’il veut Pentos !!

Chapitre pas extraordinaire mais on pose des pions pour la suite !

Je sers la Garde et c'est ma joie. For this night, and all the nights to come
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