“No, no, no,” Robert said. His breath steamed with every word. “The camp is full of ears. Besides, I want to ride out and taste this country of yours.” Ser Boros and Ser Meryn waited behind him with a dozen guardsmen, Ned saw.
The chapter starts out with Robert wanting to talk to Ned very privately. Not even Ned’s tent is private enough for whatever it is Robert wants to talk about. Boros and Meryn and a dozen guards are with him, which is kind of funny because it makes me wonder: Why did Robert bring so many people if he wanted to talk privately? The observation suggests that Ned noticed the same contradiction, because we’re in Ned’s POV, and observations are as good as thoughts as long as it’s reasonable to think the POV character understands the implications of what he’s observing.
Considering that the Kingsguard are sworn to protect the king, the situation suggests that the king may have told them to stay behind, or told them that he wants to go alone, but that they followed him anyway. So I think maybe it shows that the king has difficulty getting a private word with anybody.
When I consider that Robert spends most of his time in the Red Keep, which is full of eavesdroppers, political players and secret tunnels, maybe over the years Robert has developed a sense that he can’t be sure when his private words are actually private. So my impression is that Robert has identified this rural environment as a rare opportunity to have a conversation that he can be absolutely sure is private.
By then the guard had fallen back a small distance, safely out of earshot, but still Robert would not slow.
It seems like Robert is really trying to make sure the conversation is private. It’s unclear whether that’s what Robert is actually doing now, or if he’s just overcome with an urge to ride and enjoy nature. But judging by his earlier comment about ears, I think it’s a bit of both.
I also wonder if Robert’s monologue about the joy of riding is partly a performance meant to distract from his behavior — behavior which he’s afraid could appear to Ned to be paranoia. Maybe it alludes to one of the not-so-mad ways that the Mad King became paranoid when he was king, too.
The guard had reined up well behind them, at the bottom of the ridge. “Well, I did not bring you out here to talk of graves or bicker about your bastard. There was a rider in the night, from Lord Varys in King’s Landing. Here.” The king pulled a paper from his belt and handed it to Ned.
Ned still has his eyes on the guard, suggesting that his mind is still on Robert’s secrecy, which keeps the reader’s mind on Robert’s secrecy, too.
So what I’m trying to highlight is that the chapter builds up a context of secrecy and privacy. They ride out to the middle of nowhere, the wind is blowing noisily, Robert is being secretive, Ned and the reader are wondering why, we learn that one of the people in Dany’s retinue is a spy, and we even learn that there’s somebody in the king’s service known as a “master of whisperers”. So the perception being built up in the reader is: Privacy, secrecy, privacy, secrecy. We’re absolutely certain that nobody can hear what Ned and Robert are saying except Ned and Robert.
Then look what happens at the end as the conversation is winding down.
The king threw back his head and roared. His laughter startled a flight of crows from the tall brown grass.
Crows. Maybe this conversation wasn’t as private as it seemed. It’s a bit of comedy and magic that only has a chance of occurring to the reader on a re-read, after I already know that skinchanging is a part of the story.
When I think back to the handful of chapters I’ve read so far in this re-read, I can remember crows in the scene when Jaime pushed Bran from the tower. It’s still early in the story to judge for sure, but so far it seems like the crows have a knack for witnessing and hearing key events and conversations.
“The barrows of the First Men.”
Robert frowned. “Have we ridden onto a graveyard?”
“There are barrows everywhere in the north, Your Grace,” Ned told him. “This land is old.”
I didn’t really know what a barrow was. From context I thought it was a hill, but Robert seems to think it’s a graveyard. It turns out it’s kind of both. Here’s a definition I found.
a large mound of earth or stones over the remains of the dead
I thought it was mildly noteworthy that both of the conversations between Robert and Ned happened at a burial place — first in the Winterfell crypts and now in the barrowlands. I have no ideas for what the significance of that might be. Both characters die by the end of the book, so that’s good enough, I guess. It seems lacking to me, though, and my tendency is to think there’s a better answer that I haven’t found yet.
“Do you remember Ser Jorah Mormont?”
“Would that I might forget him,” Ned said bluntly. The Mormonts of Bear Island were an old house, proud and honorable, but their lands were cold and distant and poor. Ser Jorah had tried to swell the family coffers by selling some poachers to a Tyroshi slaver. As the Mormonts were bannermen to the Starks, his crime had dishonored the north. Ned had made the long journey west to Bear Island, only to find when he arrived that Jorah had taken ship beyond the reach of Ice and the king’s justice. Five years had passed since then.
I was surprised that that happened five years ago. I always assumed it happened more recently. It makes me wonder what Jorah has been doing for those fives years. Apparently he has spent enough time among the Dothraki to earn a trusted place in Khal Drogo’s inner circle. It’s maybe a little strange, considering the Dothraki stigma against wearing armor. They think wearing armor is cowardly. So as beneficial as the armor is in combat, I would’ve expected the stigma to raise the cost of wearing it among the Dothraki high enough to outweigh those benefits. Come to think of it, I think maybe Jorah does wear leather or something, and he only puts on his metal armor when he has a duty to protect someone else. I’m not sure about that but I’ll keep an eye out for what Jorah wears.
Jorah’s presence among the Dothraki is more than a little suspicious, too, considering the Westerosi stigmas against rape and slavery. I don’t think it’s fair to call what the Dothraki do with each other rape or slavery, because there are a lot of meanings in those two words for me that do not actually describe what the Dothraki are doing when they do those things. It would be like saying the horses are raping when the horses mate. But I think those meanings do hold true in the conscience of someone who wasn’t raised in Dothraki culture. It seems like Jorah may have come to live among the Dothraki to fight and fuck his way into an early grave, perhaps having given up on redemption.
“So the slaver has become a spy,” Ned said with distaste. He handed the letter back. “I would rather he become a corpse.”
“Varys tells me that spies are more useful than corpses,” Robert said.
Yeah but if Ned didn’t want Jorah dead, Jorah wouldn’t be a spy, either. Ned wanting Jorah dead was the reason Jorah had to flee.
“I will kill every Targaryen I can get my hands on, until they are as dead as their dragons, and then I will piss on their graves.”
Ned knew better than to defy him when the wrath was on him. If the years had not quenched Robert’s thirst for revenge, no words of his would help.
People tend to divide the world into good and evil, and I think that tendency, both in the characters and in the reader, is the fundamental critique that ASOIAF makes. Robert divides the world into good and evil when it comes to Targaryens. He thinks Targaryens as a collective are evil and nothing can change his mind about that. Getting Robert to look at the Targaryens as individuals, each with a unique perspective that warrants sympathetic consideration, is an impossible feat even for Ned and Jon Arryn.
So I gather that part of my job as the reader is to identify when and where the characters are dividing the world into good people and evil people. That informs me where their blind spots are likely to be, and therefore where I need to search to find what the character is missing. In the case of Rhaegar Targaryen, Robert is missing the glaringly obvious possibility that Lyanna went with Rhaegar willingly.
The act of dividing the world into good vs evil is something I sometimes refer to as moralizing or moralization. It will probably come up again, so this seemed like a good opportunity to explain what I mean by it.
“You can’t get your hands on this one, can you?” he said quietly.
The king’s mouth twisted in a bitter grimace. “No, gods be cursed. Some pox-ridden Pentoshi cheesemonger had her brother and her walled up on his estate with pointyhatted eunuchs all around them, and now he’s handed them over to the Dothraki. I should have had them both killed years ago, when it was easy to get at them, but Jon was as bad as you. More fool I, I listened to him.”
I wonder if Illyrio became aware of Robert’s hired knives lurking around his mance. If he did, maybe Illyrio was trying to protect Dany by marrying her to the Dothraki. She might be safer with the Dothraki than with Illyrio.
It’s so contrary to my initial impression of the Dothraki, but it makes sense in a lot of ways after I’ve taken a close look at Dothraki society. Hardly anybody who isn’t Dothraki themselves can infiltrate Dothraki society. Their existence is too harsh for most people to manage it. Dothraki are also virtually impossible to bribe because of the way their psychology develops in their culture. As khaleesi, Dany will be surrounded by protectors for the rest of her life, because even in the worst case scenarios the khaleesis are protected and escorted to Vaes Dothraki. Once in Vaes Dothrak they’re safe too, because they’re surrounded by the visiting Dothraki, and it’s forbidden to carry a blade in the city.
It may be too favorable a reading of Illyrio, who, according to Dany, profited enough from his part in her marriage that no additional explanation for Illyrio’s motivations is necessary. Still, Illyrio’s motivations are a constant mystery throughout the story, so I think it’s good to be on the lookout for alternate explanations.
“The barbarians have no ships. They hate and fear the open sea.”
Ned is right about that. The Dothraki fear of the sea is strong enough to prevent them from ever sailing for Westeros. If Robert’s decision to send the wine poisoner after Dany can fairly be thought of as Robert trying to prevent the Dothraki from crossing the sea, then Robert trying to prevent the Dothraki from crossing the sea caused them to decide to cross the sea.
Stannis proved himself at the siege of Storm’s End, surely.”
He let the name hang there for a moment. The king frowned and said nothing. He looked uncomfortable.
Why is Robert uncomfortable? This part made me want to know more about Robert and Stannis’s relationship. I remember that Stannis is not well liked by his brothers. Maybe that’s all this is, but it feels like it could be something more.
“The Others take your honor!” Robert swore.
This is the fifth use of “The Others take” curse in the books. I’ll try to remember to make a list of them as I re-read.
It’s a little interesting that this old curse still lingers so long after the Faith of the Seven has replaced the Old Gods religion in most places in Westeros. It’s similar to the common uses of “God” by non-theists in the curses of people in the real world. On one hand, these sayings are simply habits leftover from a time when people were more religious. On the other hand, it’s a paradox that shows the way that the culture into which we’re born can deeply characterize our behaviors, attitudes and values even when we think we’ve chosen different values.
“The Others take his eyes,” he swore. (AGOT 1 Bran I)
—Robb to Jon regarding deserter
“The Others take your mild snows,” Robert swore. (AGOT 4 Eddard I)
—Robert to Ned
“The Others take my wife,” Robert muttered sourly, (AGOT 4 Eddard I)
—Robert to Ned
“The Others take both of you,” Ned muttered darkly. (AGOT 6 Catelyn II)
—Ned to Catelyn and Luwin regarding going south
“The Others take your honor!” Robert swore. (AGOT 12 Eddard II)
—Robert to Ned regarding Lannisters
“The Others take your honor!” Robert swore. “What did any Targaryen ever know of honor? Go down into your crypt and ask Lyanna about the dragon’s honor!”
“You avenged Lyanna at the Trident,” Ned said, halting beside the king. Promise me, Ned, she had whispered.
At the beginning of the chapter there was a good example of the way the context of a situation can help me figure out what a character is thinking.
Ned was thinking about the contradiction between Robert wanting to speak privately and Robert having a bunch of guards with him. It alluded to a hidden story in which the guards may be disobeying the king in order to fulfill their duty to protect him, and perhaps to protect themselves from the repercussions they might likely suffer in the event that some tragedy befalls the king while the guards are absent, regardless of Robert’s wish to be unguarded.
These lines about Lyanna are a good example of the way a character’s thinking can help me figure out the context of a situation.
In isolation, the “promise me” sentence is completely mysterious. There’s no way to get any clues about what the promise was by looking at that one sentence. But in the context of Ned and Robert’s argument, I’m able to get some clues.
Ned is arguing that Jaime shouldn’t be made Warden of the East because the Lannisters are dishonorable because they sacked King’s Landing treacherously. Robert strongly implies that the Targaryens have no honor, citing Rhaegar’s rape and murder of Lyanna as evidence of that. Robert’s point isn’t particularly strong because it’s a two-wrongs-make-a-right argument. Ned wants to rebutt that point as strongly as he can, but the rebuttal Ned gives is weak too, in a way. He says that Robert already avenged Lyanna. It’s weak because it doesn’t contradict Robert’s point that the Targaryens have no honor. The point merely begs Robert to let go of his grudge against Targaryens as a collective, which we and Ned already know is something Robert has never been able to do.
So when Lyanna’s “promise me” line intrudes in Ned’s thoughts, it’s as though Ned is reminding himself to keep the promise. It suggests that the difficulty of keeping the promise has just surged for some reason. In the heat of the argument, that reason might likely be that Ned has a much stronger point he could have made, here, if only he were willing to break his promise to Lyanna.
For example: ‘Actually, Robert… Rhaegar didn’t rape and kill Lyanna. Lyanna chose Rhaegar over you. They had a baby and she died from childbirth.’
“I cannot answer for the gods, Your Grace . . . only for what I found when I rode into the throne room that day,” Ned said. “Aerys was dead on the floor, drowned in his own blood. His dragon skulls stared down from the walls. Lannister’s men were everywhere. Jaime wore the white cloak of the Kingsguard over his golden armor. I can see him still. Even his sword was gilded. He was seated on the Iron Throne, high above his knights, wearing a helm fashioned in the shape of a lion’s head. How he glittered!”
“This is well known,” the king complained.
This is good. I get to compare Ned’s version of the story to Dany’s version of the story from AGOT 3 Daenerys I. Here it is again.
Yet sometimes Dany would picture the way it had been, so often had her brother told her the stories. The midnight flight to Dragonstone, moonlight shimmering on the ship’s black sails. Her brother Rhaegar battling the Usurper in the bloody waters of the Trident and dying for the woman he loved. The sack of King’s Landing by the ones Viserys called the Usurper’s dogs, the lords Lannister and Stark. Princess Elia of Dorne pleading for mercy as Rhaegar’s heir was ripped from her breast and murdered before her eyes. The polished skulls of the last dragons staring down sightlessly from the walls of the throne room while the Kingslayer opened Father’s throat with a golden sword. (AGOT 3 Daenerys I)
Dany presumably heard the story from Viserys, so this is Viserys’s version of the story.
Ned’s version is more reliable in some ways. For example, I was skeptical that Jaime’s sword was golden until I heard it from Ned. Ned is giving a first-hand account of the event, and I’ve seen that Ned is an honest person. Viserys and Dany’s accounts are second- and third-hand accounts, because neither of them were actually there at the time to witness what happened in the throne room.
There were also a bunch of soldiers in the throne room by the time Ned arrived, so that’s probably how certain details of the story travelled, such as Jaime’s sword being golden.
Both versions of the story personify the dragon skulls, describing them as if they’re alive and watching.
The polished skulls of the last dragons staring down sightlessly from the walls of the throne room
“His dragon skulls stared down from the walls.”
“I rode the length of the hall in silence, between the long rows of dragon skulls. It felt as though they were watching me, somehow.”
I wouldn’t have expected that from Ned’s version. I would have guessed that the skulls in Viserys’s version were dramatized because the skulls have more meaning to him as a Targaryen. But Ned is not a Targaryen, yet the personification is present in his version too. So maybe it means Ned is a Targaryen! Just kidding.
Maybe the author is just reusing the personification for no great reason in particular. Then it doesn’t really mean anything. That’s certainly possible. But, to me, it’s the least interesting explanation, and this author does a great job of making his story interesting. So it seems less reasonable to suppose that the similarity means nothing than it does to suppose that it means something more than, say, authorial laziness, descriptive consistency or idle coincidence.
It’s a very specific kind of similarity. Viserys and Ned aren’t merely noting that there were dragon skulls on the walls, they’re both personifying them as if the dragons are watching the murder of King Aerys and what is ultimately the fall of the Targaryen dynasty. Since the dragon is the sigil of House Targaryen, the skulls could be symbolic of dead Targaryen ancestors. I think the personification of the dragon skulls evokes the idea that the Targaryen ancestors are watching and judging.
It breathes life into all kinds of questions, like:
- What would Targaryen ancestors think of Aerys?
- What would they think of Jaime killing him?
Each Targaryen ancestor might think differently about those things.
- Would things have turned out differently if House Targaryen’s dragons were still alive?
One thing that might have turned out differently is the killing of Aerys. But the quality of Aerys’s reign is another thing that might have turned out differently, because dragons would have had a major effect on the outcome of certain events and challenges that Aerys faced. Even Aerys’s development as a child is one of the things that might have turned out differently, because growing up in a family with living dragons would have been different than growing up in a family with dead dragons.
So the personification of the dragon skulls causes my imagination to reach into many other aspects of the story. And if this is what it does to me, then it gives me insight into what is happening in the minds of Viserys and Ned.
Viserys is entertaining thoughts of revenge. He’s probably thinking that the Kingslayer never would have dared to depose a Targaryen king if the dragons were still alive. Viserys may be imagining what harm a dragon could do to the likes of Jaime, Robert, Ned and Tywin.
Ned’s thoughts, on the other hand, are somewhere between ominous and respectful. There’s a sense of superstitious dread regarding the dragon’s judgement of Ned and Jaime below, as Ned walks the entire length of the throne room. And there’s also a sense that Ned has respect for the dynasty that he has helped to overthrow. Ned’s respect is apparent in the fact that Ned included the dragon skulls in his description. It’s a subtle confession of his uneasiness under the stare of the skulls and therefore their power to influence him. After a Targaryen reign that lasted nearly three-hundred years, the gravity of a moment like this would bear heavily on any rebel who has some sense.
Maybe Viserys and Ned’s matching personified descriptions of the dragon skulls are the story’s way of announcing that ASOIAF is a story where two identical observations can have different implications when made by different people.
Created Jun 23, 2021