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Episode 153: A STORM OF SWORDS, DAVOS I: "Cast Away" Show Notes!

Hello and welcome to the Not A Cast … podcast: the one true chapter-by-chapter podcast going through A Song of Ice and Fire one chapter a week. I’m one of your hosts Jeff better known as BryndenBFish.

And I’m your other host Emmett, better known as PoorQuentyn.

Welcome to the one hundred and fifty-fifth episode of the Not A Cast, titled: “Cast Away: An Analysis of ASOS, Davos I” in which Davos Seaworth enjoys a well-deserved vacation on a tropical island on Blackwater Bay. While sunning himself, enjoying a bushel of crabs and drinking fresh water cured through volcanic rock, Davos meets the love of his wife: the Mother. Fuck, that got weird, didn’t it.

This episode is brought to you by our NotASmallCouncil:

Spoiler warning: All published books, 5 novels, 3 Dunk and Egg novellas, histories, interviews, TWOW sample chapters, as well as Game of Thrones the TV show. Anything and everything!

Question

So, for this week, our question by Lord Jake Assistant to the Hand of the King will be found at the end of the episode. So, here, we’ll remind you that we just started a new patreon stretch goal of attaining 1,050 total patrons! When we hit that number, we will do a multi-part analysis of the Theon TWOW chapter! So, if you like hearing us wax about Winds, consider checking out our patreon at patreon.com/NotACastASOIAF

Yes indeed! As of this recording, four new patrons have joined! We are inching forward with our goal! So, help Ser Frank B., the King’s Justice out. He’s already putting the pyre together for us if we don’t hit our stretch goal.

But enough about patreon. When we last checked in with Davos, he had sailed up the Blackwater Rush and despite heavy casualties, defeated the Lannister Fleet defending King’s Landing. If I recall correctly, I don’t believe anything else happened in that chapter. Let’s find out how Davos is enjoying the fruits of Stannis’ victory in this synopsis of ASOS, Davos I!

Synopsis

He watched the sail grow for a long time, trying to decide whether he would sooner live or die.
Dying would be easier, he knew. All he had to do was crawl inside his cave and let the ship pass by, and death would find him. For days now the fever had been burning through him, turning his bowels to brown water and making him shiver in his restless sleep. Each morning found him weaker. It will not be much longer, he had taken to telling himself.

Truly, every chapter opener to A Storm of Swords is happier than the previous chapter opener.

Davos Seaworth is sick, and he’s dying of thirst. There was no water to drink, save for the occasional rainfall. And the last rain was three, no, four days ago. The rain had brought some life for Davos to snuff out: crabs and such. The point is that it was growing difficult to remember the passage of time. And that water was all used up. It was almost seawater time, and then Davos would die.

Now, there was an island off in the distance, a large rock that jutted from the sea, and Davos could see the gulls landing there. He dreamed about swimming over and raiding their nests, but he knew he was too weak to make the swim and survive. So, Davos had taken to weakly throwing rocks whenever the gulls would land on his rock, but they would just get annoyed and screech at Davos whenever he would hit them with a rock.

Davos remembers that the Narrow Sea was windy, wet and rainy in the Narrow Sea, and all of this contributes to a worsening fever, chills and a bad cough. The only place Davos has is a cave that only provides him some shelter. Davos had tried to start a fire with driftwood, but he only got blisters from that attempt.

Thirst; hunger; exposure. They were his companions, with him every hour of every day, and in time he had come to think of them as his friends. Soon enough, one or the other of his friends would take pity on him and free him from this endless misery. Or perhaps he would simply walk into the water one day, and strike out for the shore that he knew lay somewhere to the north, beyond his sight. It was too far to swim, as weak as he was, but that did not matter. Davos had always been a sailor; he was meant to die at sea. The gods beneath the waters have been waiting for me, he told himself. It's past time I went to them.

But now Davos is looking at a sail on the horizon. It was small in the distance but growing larger. It was coming towards him when he knows that it shouldn’t. This part of Blackwater Bay was treacherous with all the rocks, called the spear of the merling king, just beneath the surface of the water.

Davos knows the ship is coming his way though, and the boat would be within shouting distance soon. He could find refuge there if he wanted it.

It might mean life. If he wanted it. He was not sure he did. Why should I live? he thought as tears blurred his vision. Gods be good, why? My sons are dead, Dale and Allard, Maric and Matthos, perhaps Devan as well. How can a father outlive so many strong young sons? How would I go on? I am a hollow shell, the crab's died, there's nothing left inside. Don't they know that?

Davos recalls the Battle of the Blackwater and how he and his sons sailed with the fleet up the Blackwater Rush. He remembers the sights and sounds of battle, and then he remembers the wildfire.

And then some vast beast had let out a roar, and green flames were all around them: wildfire, pyromancer's piss, the jade demon. Matthos had been standing at his elbow on the deck of Black Betha when the ship seemed to lift from the water. Davos found himself in the river, flailing as the current took him and spun him around and around. Upstream, the flames had ripped at the sky, fifty feet high. He had seen Black Betha afire, and Fury, and a dozen other ships, had seen burning men leaping into the water to drown. Wraith and Lady Marya were gone, sunk or shattered or vanished behind a veil of wildfire, and there was no time to look for them, because the mouth of the river was almost upon him, and across the mouth of the river the Lannisters had raised a great iron chain. From bank to bank there was nothing but burning ships and wildfire. The sight of it seemed to stop his heart for a moment, and he could still remember the sound of it, the crackle of flames, the hiss of steam, the shrieks of dying men, and the beat of that terrible heat against his face as the current swept him down toward hell.

All he needed to do was nothing. A few moments more, and he would be with his sons now, resting in the cool green mud on the bottom of the bay, with fish nibbling at his face.

Instead, Davos took a deep breath and dove deep, moving through the murky water, past drowning men. He dove all the way to the bottom, even touching the soft, silty ground at the bottom of the Blackwater Rush. He starts swimming hard, trying to get underneath what he thinks is the chain. But then Davos loses his sense of direction, not being sure whether he’s swimming up or down.

Panic took hold of him. His hands flailed against the bottom of the river and sent up a cloud of mud that blinded him. His chest was growing tighter by the instant. He clawed at the water, kicking, pushing himself, turning, his lungs screaming for air, kicking, kicking, lost now in the river murk, kicking, kicking, kicking until he could kick no longer. When he opened his mouth to scream, the water came rushing in, tasting of salt, and Davos Seaworth knew that he was drowning.

The next he knew the sun was up, and he lay upon a stony strand beneath a spire of naked stone, with the empty bay all around and a broken mast, a burned sail, and a swollen corpse beside him. The mast, the sail, and the dead man vanished with the next high tide, leaving Davos alone on his rock amidst the spears of the merling king.

Davos was familiar with where he landed as it was a spot that few honest seamen (lol) ventured to. But Davos the smuggler knew the spot and had used it to escape notice in his smuggling days.

When they find me dead here, if ever they do, perhaps they will name the rock for me, he thought. Onion Rock, they'll call it; it will be my tombstone and my legacy. He deserved no more. The Father protects his children, the septons taught, but Davos had led his boys into the fire. Dale would never give his wife the child they had prayed for, and Allard, with his girl in Oldtown and his girl in King's Landing and his girl in Braavos, they would all be weeping soon. Matthos would never captain his own ship, as he'd dreamed. Maric would never have his knighthood.
How can I live when they are dead? So many brave knights and mighty lords have died, better men than me, and highborn. Crawl inside your cave, Davos. Crawl inside and shrink up small and the ship will go away, and no one will trouble you ever again. Sleep on your stone pillow, and let the gulls peck out your eyes while the crabs feast on your flesh. You've feasted on enough of them, you owe them. Hide, smuggler. Hide, and be quiet, and die.
The sail was almost on him. A few moments more, and the ship would be safely past, and he could die in peace.

Davos reaches for his luck, his leather pouch of finger bones, but he finds that it’s gone. He remembers how he kept the bones as reminders of Stannis’ justice. It was his luck. But the fire had taken his luck and sons. He cries out to the Mother for mercy, to save him. The fire took it all.

Perhaps it was only wind blowing against the rock, or the sound of the sea on the shore, but for an instant Davos Seaworth heard her answer. "You called the fire," she whispered, her voice as faint as the sound of waves in a seashell, sad and soft. "You burned us . . . burned us . . . burrrned usssssss."
"It was her!" Davos cried. "Mother, don't forsake us. It was her who burned you, the red woman, Melisandre, her!" He could see her; the heart-shaped face, the red eyes, the long coppery hair, her red gowns moving like flames as she walked, a swirl of silk and satin. She had come from Asshai in the east, she had come to Dragonstone and won Selyse and her queen's men for her alien god, and then the king, Stannis Baratheon himself. He had gone so far as to put the fiery heart on his banners, the fiery heart of R'hllor, Lord of Light and God of Flame and Shadow. At Melisandre's urging, he had dragged the Seven from their sept at Dragonstone and burned them before the castle gates, and later he had burned the godswood at Storm's End as well, even the heart tree, a huge white weirwood with a solemn face.

Once again, Davos blames Melisandre, but then in a moment of self-reflection, he realizes that it was Davos who rowed Melisandre under Storm’s End. It was Davos who allowed Melisandre to birth a shadow child. It was Davos who stood silent and watched as the Seven were burned. Stood. Saw. And did nothing.

The sail was a hundred yards away and moving fast across the bay. In a few more moments it would be past him, and dwindling.
Ser Davos Seaworth began to climb his rock.

Boy, I don’t know. There’s something truly epic and moving about Davos climbing up that rock at this point of the chapter.

Davos gets himself up the rocks, still feeling feverish. He slips, knowing that if he falls, he’ll die. But he needs to live for a bit longer anyway. He has work to do. At the top of the rock, he crouches, waving bony arms, shouting for the ship and for the ship to save him. He sees writing on the hull but doesn’t know how to read. He screams for the ship to help him, and a crewmember sees him and points. Soon, other sailors come to gawk at Davos, and a small boat is launched from the ship to Davos.

When the boat reaches Davos, the man on the prow calls up to Davos, asking who he is. Davos says he’s a captain, a knight. He was in the battle.

"Aye, ser," the man said, "and serving which king?"
The galley might be Joffrey's, he realized suddenly. If he spoke the wrong name now, she would abandon him to his fate. But no, her hull was striped. She was Lysene, she was Salladhor Saan's. The Mother sent her here, the Mother in her mercy. She had a task for him. Stannis lives, he knew then. I have a king still. And sons, I have other sons, and a wife loyal and loving. How could he have forgotten? The Mother was merciful indeed.
"Stannis," he shouted back at the Lyseni. "Gods be good, I serve King Stannis."
"Aye," said the man in the boat, "and so do we."

Fuck. Yes. And that is the synopsis for ASOS, Davos I. You got me, George. You really got me in the feels at chapter’s end. What did you think, ser?

Depth

I loved Davos’ chapters in ACOK. The only problem was that there weren’t enough of them! Davos is not one of those characters who springs fully formed into the author’s head; George invented him because he needed a POV on Stannis. So in Clash, he was a window onto important events: the Azor Ahai ceremony on Dragonstone, the shadowbaby under Storm’s End, and the wildfire inferno on the Blackwater. Davos himself didn’t have much of an arc going on compared to Theon, the other new POV.

That changes big time in ASOS. Davos gets twice as many chapters as he did in the previous book, and Stannis doesn’t even show up until halfway through! This is Davos’ story now: he starts the book as a lone traumatized survivor on the brink of physical and spiritual annihilation, and ends the book as the Hand of the King saving innocent lives and possibly the whole world in the process. Davos is no longer merely bearing witness. He is intervening, so plot and character work together. Everything works together in these chapters: the dialogue, the imagery, the big thematic statements, they’re all in harmony. This is perfect art, as immaculate as an Egyptian tomb or a Roman aqueduct. Davos is my favorite--nah, objectively the best POV in ASOS.

I accept that this is an opinion and one that you hold. And you hold that opinion with sincerity, even. But, no, seriously, it’s hard to argue with you, because Davos’ chapters are really excellent. As you talked about, Davos’ Clash chapters were primarily in service of establishing Stannis Baratheon: the character, his supporting cast, his quick rise and quicker fall. George said once that he didn’t want to make Stannis a POV, and that’s why he invented Davos Seaworth as a POV character. But while Davos’ Storm chapters further establish Stannis and his retinue, I love how we find out who Davos truly is in his chapters in Storm. And that starts here in Davos I. And what better way to flesh out Davos than to leave him alone with his thoughts, dying.

"When did you grow so devout?" Davos said. "What does a smuggler's son know of the doings of gods?"

Foreshadowing/Groundwork

All that talk of how armored men sank to the bottom of the Blackwater reads as early inspiration for Lord Admiral Idiot Pirate Victarion Greyjoy who wears full plate armor into the Battle of the Shield Isle in AFFC and doesn’t plan on stopping wearing full armor into battle anytime soon. I wonder how that will work out for him ultimately ...

Davos guesses that the ship belongs to Salladhor Saan, and he’s right--they take him right to Salla in his next chapter.

Davos thinks he doesn’t know the ship’s name because he never learned to read...but he will by the end of his arc in this book!

Theory/Discussion

Lord Jake, Assistant to the Hand of the King, asks:

We always hear about how useless the Seven are in terms of power (And if they are even real) but Davos believes they rescued him for a reason- actually "hearing" the Mother speak to him. Do you think this might be a hint that the Seven actually has any real power? Was it another of the gods, R'hllor maybe? Or even just boring ol' luck?

Conclusion


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