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A Dance With Dragons: Part 1 Dreams and Dust (A Song of Ice and Fire, Book 5)
 
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A Dance With Dragons: Part 1 Dreams and Dust (A Song of Ice and Fire, Book 5) [Format Kindle]

George R. R. Martin
4.7 étoiles sur 5  Voir tous les commentaires (3 commentaires client)

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Descriptions du produit

Extrait

Tyrion


He drank his way across the narrow sea.
The ship was small and his cabin smaller, and the captain would not allow him abovedecks. The rocking of the deck beneath his feet made his stomach heave, and the wretched food they served him tasted even worse when retched back up. Besides, why did he need salt beef, hard cheese, and bread crawling with worms when he had wine to nourish him? It was red and sour, very strong. He sometimes heaved the wine up too, but there was always more. "The world is full of wine," he muttered in the dankness of his cabin. His father had never had any use for drunkards, but what did that matter? His father was dead. He ought to know; he'd killed him. A bolt in the belly, my lord, and all for you. If only I was better with a crossbow, I would have put it through that cock you made me with, you bloody bastard.

Below decks there was neither night nor day. Tyrion marked time by the comings and goings of the cabin boy who brought the meals he did not eat. The boy always brought a brush and bucket too, to clean up. "Is this Dornish wine?" Tyrion asked him once, as he pulled a stopper from a skin. "It reminds me of a certain snake I knew. A droll fellow, till a mountain fell on him."

The cabin boy did not answer. He was an ugly boy, though admittedly more comely than a certain dwarf with half a nose and a scar from eye to chin. "Have I offended you?" Tyrion asked the sullen, silent boy, as he was scrubbing. "Were you commanded not to talk to me? Or did some dwarf diddle your mother?"

That went unanswered too. This is pointless, he knew, but he must speak to someone or go mad, so he persisted. "Where are we sailing? Tell me that." Jaime had made mention of the Free Cities, but had never said which one. "Is it Braavos? Tyrosh? Myr?" Tyrion would sooner have gone to Dorne. Myrcella is older than Tommen, by Dornish law the Iron Throne is hers. I will help her claim her rights, as Prince Oberyn suggested.

Oberyn was dead, though, his head smashed to bloody ruin by the armored fist of Ser Gregor Clegane. And without the Red Viper to urge him on, would Doran Martell even consider such a chancy scheme? He may clap me in chains instead, and hand me back to my sweet sister. The Wall might be safer. Old Bear Mormont said the Night's Watch had need of men like Tyrion. Mormont may be dead, though. By now Slynt may be the Lord Commander. That butcher's son was not like to have forgotten who sent him to the Wall. Do I really want to spend the rest of my life eating salt beef and porridge with murderers and thieves? Not that the rest of his life would last very long. Janos Slynt would see to that.

The cabin boy wet his brush and scrubbed on manfully. "Have you ever visited the pleasure houses of Lys?" the dwarf inquired. "Might that be where whores go?" Tyrion could not seem to recall the Valyrian word for whore, and in any case it was too late. The boy tossed his brush back in his bucket and took his leave.

The wine has blurred my wits. He had learned to read High Valyrian at his maester's knee, though what they spoke in the Nine Free Cities... well, it was not so much a dialect as nine dialects on the way to becoming separate tongues. Tyrion had some Braavosi and a smattering of Myrish. In Tyrosh he should be able to curse the gods, call a man a cheat, and order up an ale, thanks to a sellsword he had once known at the Rock. At least in Dorne they spea the Common Tongue. Like Dornish food and Dornish law, Dornish speech was spiced with the flavors of the Rhoyne, but a man could comprehend it. Dorne, yes, Dorne for me. He crawled into his bunk, clutching that thought like a child with a doll.

Sleep had never come easily to Tyrion Lannister. Aboard that ship it seldom came at all, though from time to time he managed to drink sufficient wine to pass out for a while. At least he did not dream. He had dreamt enough for one small life. And of such follies: love, justice, friendship, glory. As well dream of being tall. It was all beyond his reach, Tyrion knew now. But he did not know where whores go.

"Wherever whores go," his father had said. His last words, and what words they were. The crossbow thrummed, Lord Tywin sat back down, and Tyrion Lannister found himself waddling through the darkness with Varys at his side. He must have clambered back down the shaft, two hundred and thirty rungs to where orange embers glowed in the mouth of an iron dragon. He remembered none of it. Only the sound the crossbow made, and the stink of his father's bowels opening. Even in his dying, he found a way to shit on me.

Varys had escorted him through the tunnels, but they never spoke until they emerged beside the Blackwater, where Tyrion had won a famous victory and lost a nose. That was when the dwarf turned to the eunuch and said, "I've killed my father," in the same tone a man might use to say, "I've stubbed my toe." The master of whisperers had been dressed as a begging brother, in a moth-eaten robe of brown roughspun with a cowl that shadowed his smooth fat cheeks and bald round head. "You should not have climbed that ladder," he said reproachfully.

"Wherever whores go." Tyrion warned his father not to say that word. If I had not loosed, he would have seen my threats were empty. He would have taken the crossbow from my hands, as once he took Tysha from my arms. He was rising when I killed him. "I killed Shae too," he confessed to Varys.

"You knew what she was."

"I did. But I never knew what he was."

Varys tittered. "And now you do."

I should have killed the eunuch as well. A little more blood on his hands, what would it matter? He could not say what had stayed his dagger. Not gratitude. Varys had saved him from a headsman's sword, but only because Jaime had compelled him. Jaime... no, better not to think of Jaime.

He found a fresh skin of wine instead, and sucked at it as if it were a woman's breast. The sour red ran down his chin and soaked through his soiled tunic, the same one he had been wearing in his cell. He sucked until the wine was gone. The deck was swaying beneath his feet, and when he tried to rise it lifted sideways and smashed him hard against a bulkhead. A storm, he realized, or else I am even drunker than I knew. He retched the wine up and lay in it a while, wondering if the ship would sink.

Is this your vengeance, Father? Have the Father Above made you his Hand? "Such are the wages of the kinslayer," he said as the wind howled outside. It did not seem fair to drown the cabin boy and the captain and all the rest for something he had done, but when had the gods ever been fair? And around about then, the darkness gulped him down

When he stirred again, his head felt like to burst and the ship was spinning round in dizzy circles, though the captain was insisting that they'd come to port. Tyrion told him to be quiet, and kicked feebly as a huge bald sailor tucked him under one arm and carried him squirming to the hold, where an empty wine cask awaited him. It was a squat little cask, and a tight fit even for a dwarf. Tyrion pissed himself in his struggles, for all the good it did. He was up crammed face first into the cask with his knees pushed up against his ears. The stub of his nose itched horribly, but his arms were pinned so tightly that he could not reach to scratch it. A palanquin fit for a man of my stature, he thought as they hammered shut the lid and hoisted him up. He could hear voices shouting as he was jounced along. Every bounce cracked his head against the bottom of the cask. The world went round and round as the cask rolled downward, then stopped with a sudden crash that made him want to scream. Another cask slammed into his, and Tyrion bit his tongue.

That was the longest journey he had ever taken, though it could not have lasted more than half an hour. He was lifted and lowered, rolled and stacked, upended and righted and rolled again. Through the wooden staves he heard men shouting, and once a horse whickered nearby. His stunted legs began to cramp, and soon hurt so badly that he forgot the hammering in his head.

It ended as it had begun, with another roll that left him dizzy and more jouncing. Outside strange voices were speaking in a tongue he did not know. Someone started pounding on the top of the cask and the lid cracked open suddenly. Light came flooding in, and cool air as well. Tyrion gasped greedily and tried to stand, but only managed to knock the cask over sideways and spill himself out onto a hard-packed earthen floor.

Above him loomed a grotesque fat man with a forked yellow beard, holding a wooden mallet and an iron chisel. His bedrobe was large enough to serve as a tourney pavilion, but its loosely knotted belt had come undone, exposing a huge white belly and a pair of heavy breasts that sagged like sacks of suet covered with coarse yellow hair. He reminded Tyrion of a dead sea cow that had once washed up in the caverns under Casterly Rock.

The fat man looked down and smiled. "A drunken dwarf," he said, in the Common Tongue of Westeros.

"A rotting sea cow." Tyrion's mouth was full of blood. He spat it at the fat man's feet. They were in a long dim cellar with barrel-vaulted ceilings, its stone walls spotted with nitre. Casks of wine and ale surrounded them, more than enough drink to see a thirsty dwarf safely through the night. Or through a life.

"You are insolent. I like that in a dwarf." When the fat man laughed, his flesh bounced so vigorously that Tyrion was afraid he might fall and crush him. "Are you hungry, my little friend? Weary?"

"Thirsty." Tyrion struggled to his knees. "And filthy."

The fat man sniffed. "A bath first, just so....

Revue de presse

PRAISE FOR GEORGE R. R. MARTIN’S
A SONG OF ICE AND FIRE
 
“What’s A Song of Ice and Fire? It’s the only fantasy series I’d put on a level with J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings. . . . It’s a fantasy series for hip, smart people, even those who don’t read fantasy.”—Chicago Tribune
  
A Game of Thrones
 
“Reminiscent of T. H. White’s The Once and Future King, this novel is an absorbing combination of the mythic, the sweepingly historical, and the intensely personal.”—Chicago Sun-Times
 
A Clash of Kings
 
“Martin amply fulfills the first volume’s promise and continues what seems destined to be one of the best fantasy series ever written.”—The Denver Post
 
A Storm of Swords
 
“Riveting . . . a series whose brilliance continues to dazzle.”—Patriot News
 
A Feast for Crows
 
“Of those who work in the grand epic-fantasy tradition, Martin is by far the best. In fact . . . this is as good a time as any to proclaim him the American Tolkien.”—Time

Détails sur le produit

  • Format : Format Kindle
  • Taille du fichier : 2303 KB
  • Nombre de pages de l'édition imprimée : 707 pages
  • Pagination - ISBN de l'édition imprimée de référence : 0007466064
  • Editeur : Harper Voyager (15 mars 2012)
  • Vendu par : Amazon Media EU S.à r.l.
  • Langue : Anglais
  • ASIN: B00760BPOC
  • Synthèse vocale : Activée
  • X-Ray :
  • Moyenne des commentaires client : 4.7 étoiles sur 5  Voir tous les commentaires (3 commentaires client)
  • Classement des meilleures ventes d'Amazon: n°33.502 dans la Boutique Kindle (Voir le Top 100 dans la Boutique Kindle)
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Commentaires en ligne 

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Commentaires client les plus utiles
1 internautes sur 1 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
4.0 étoiles sur 5 Dance with Dragons 10 mai 2013
Par kevin
Format:Format Kindle|Achat authentifié par Amazon
not bad but nothing very original.Well written ,but like lots of fantasy,turns into Soap Opera once you get accustomed to the fantasy world
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1 internautes sur 1 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
5.0 étoiles sur 5 toujours plus haut, toujours plus fort 24 août 2012
Par E. M.
Format:Broché|Achat authentifié par Amazon
Avec ce 5eme tome G. R. R. Martin atteint de nouveaux sommets. Après la relative passivité du scenario dans le tome 4, a dance with dragons poursuit l'enchevetrement complexe des destinées des différents protagonistes. Encore plus noir que les livres précédents, ce tome fait triompher la fantasy, plus présente ici mais sans jamais attenter a la cohérence du récit.
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5.0 étoiles sur 5 que dire de plus 9 mai 2013
Par David
Format:Format Kindle|Achat authentifié par Amazon
genial !!!! j'adore les bouquin autant que la série , George r r martin ne nous déçoit pas du tout
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Commentaires client les plus utiles sur Amazon.com (beta)
Amazon.com: 4.4 étoiles sur 5  124 commentaires
43 internautes sur 45 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
4.0 étoiles sur 5 This is only the first half of book 5 of A Song of Ice and Fire 24 août 2012
Par mr F - Publié sur Amazon.com
Format:Broché|Achat authentifié par Amazon
Unfortunately I was too hasty in ordering this book and didn't realize it was only the first half of Book 5 of A Song of Ice and Fire. Other than that the book was great...maybe a little pricey considering this cost almost twice as much as the mass market paperback version of the book that has both halves.
17 internautes sur 18 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
3.0 étoiles sur 5 Stars Reflect the Author's Work 21 octobre 2012
Par Sadie McC. - Publié sur Amazon.com
Format:Broché|Achat authentifié par Amazon
While Book 5, Part 1 of The Song of Ice and Fire series continues the stories of characters that readers who have stuck with the series have come to care about, the author seems to have lost his way a bit. New characters? Do we care? We want to again embrace the stories of the characters with whom we are familiar. The world in which they live has been thoroughly and colorfully imagined, described at great length throughout the books. Great length, however, is becoming a handicap. Another part of Book 5 follows this one and a Book 6 is promised. All this verbage could be self-defeating. Martin is a fabulous and engaging writer, no question, but he seemed to care less in Book 4 about the tautness of his tales and has only partially recovered in this book. The task he set himself in creating a complete fantasy world seems to have begun to overwhelm him and his solution of choice has been to produce more words than are really needed. I have also been disappointed with his inclusion of common modern expressions that seem out of place in his world, e.g., "are we there yet?" I noticed this little idiosyncracy in Book 4 as well. Such slips are jarring and out of place in a fantasy epic. I have not finished reading this book and may be rewarded at the end with improvement in the author's style and plot choices, but I'm not holding my breath. Reading the book has become a slog through mud, really quite tiring. I'm hoping for better in the future books.
11 internautes sur 13 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
4.0 étoiles sur 5 Is it ever going to end? 14 juillet 2012
Par Steve R. Chapman - Publié sur Amazon.com
Format:Format Kindle
Continuing the epic, but still lots of loose ends. Still introducing new characters after 5 books, which prompts the question- is the end in sight? Personally, I could see this going on for at least another 3 books to tidy up all the bits and pieces. Good book, IMHO not as good as 2 or 3, but still fairly satisfying. Bring on #6!
8 internautes sur 9 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
3.0 étoiles sur 5 Half a book 23 août 2012
Par DrRWS - Publié sur Amazon.com
Format:Broché|Achat authentifié par Amazon
This was misrepresented as the complete 5th book in series. Unaware UK split volume and not made clear. It was in perfect condition at least and arrived on time, but only later realized not what I expected.
10 internautes sur 12 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
2.0 étoiles sur 5 Enjoyable but part of a not very cunning scam to sell books 17 janvier 2013
Par Andrew - Publié sur Amazon.com
Format:Format Kindle|Achat authentifié par Amazon
A number of other reviews point out what's great about this series of books is the author's willingness to have important characters die. Death in the world constructed by Martin is often random, cruel and always frequent. It helps make the world feel all the more solid. I like this side of the books.

What I didn't enjoy is the complete lack of any 'end' to the story. After about third book I started wondering what the point was. I'm slow so it wasn't till I finished the last one that I worked out the open endedness is about being able write another book. It became clear to me this was all about selling books. In the end it just feels too cynical to be enjoyable.
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