Game of Thrones: The Frozen Throne

When Lord Eddard led the Northern host toward the Abyss Keep of the Stone King, they clashed with the Rock Clans in the barren mountains. The Northern forces slew three direhorns and hundreds of rock warriors before Billy Stern retreated to the Abyss Keep with the remaining direhorns and his men.

The direhorns, being massive creatures, could not cross the rope bridge over the river. Eddard reasoned that if they had reached the Abyss Keep, it must have been via the main road.

The icy rain continued to fall, mixing with snow. Eddard interrogated the captured Donald Crowl. "Speak! Where is the main road?"

Donald Crowl grimaced. "My lord, there is no main road to Abyss Keep. Billy Stern wouldn't have brought the direhorns there—they are useless for defending the keep and would only consume the scarce food supplies. The keep consists of halls and tunnels carved into the mountain, and direhorns despise the darkness."

Eddard frowned. "If they aren't in the keep, where are they?"

Direhorns were a nightmare for Northern cavalry—warhorses feared their scent and roars. In battle, many horses would rear up or throw their riders upon hearing a direhorn's bellow.

Donald Crowl shook his head. "I don't know where Billy Stern hid them. Likely in one of the valleys nearby."

Greatjon grabbed Donald by the collar and pressed a dagger to his throat. Blood trickled down his neck. "Lie to us, and you die."

Donald Crowl's forehead was slick with sweat. "Lord Eddard, I swear I don't know! Maybe Frostvale or Ice Dragon Gorge—somewhere north! Please, spare me!"

Eddard noticed the growing wet patch on Donald's trousers. He waved at Greatjon. "Let him go. He's already wet himself."

Greatjon released him, and Donald touched his bleeding neck, his hands trembling. "I'm bleeding… am I going to die?"

Theon smirked. "It's just a scratch. You won't die so easily."

Eddard waved again, and Jory Cassel, the captain of Winterfell's guards, escorted Donald Crowl back to his cell.

Winterfell's men set up tents, and Eddard gathered his bannermen inside. A map of Skagos, hand-drawn by Domeric Bolton, lay spread across the table, incorporating intelligence from captured rock warriors and guides.

Eddard's sworn swords stood beside him—his personal guard Dawson and Syrio Forel, a Braavosi water dancer. Around the map, Northern lords debated the next course of action.

Domeric Bolton, heir to the Dreadfort, spoke first. "Lord Eddard, the Stone King has gathered his forces at Abyss Keep, but his direhorns are hidden in the valleys. Does this mean he plans to launch a rear assault while we lay siege?"

Eddard studied the map. "The Stone King's ploy will fail. I will not besiege the keep."

Lord Mace Seven of the Rills smiled. "A wise choice, my lord. Any force attacking such a fortress without ample supplies would suffer a disastrous defeat. Retreat is the only sound decision."

Eddard remained composed. "I will not besiege, nor will I retreat. We march north and scour the valleys beyond Abyss Keep."

Mace Seven's smile faded. "Marching inland is perilous, my lord. The snowfall will only worsen in the mountains. If the rock warriors cut off our retreat, we'll perish in the cold and hunger."

Roose Bolton nodded. "I concur. Unless Ser Marlon Manderly can resupply us from the sea, an inland campaign is too dangerous. Let us not forget, Skagos is the largest island in the North—four or five times the size of Bear Island."

Greatjon slammed his fist on the table. "Only cowards talk of retreat! I support the attack!"

Rickard Karstark, 'Fat' Wyl, and Lady Meg Mormont of Bear Island all clamored for an assault, urging the extermination of the rock warriors.

Eddard raised a hand. "I appreciate your counsel." He pointed at the map. "According to our guides and captives, the Frostvale and Ice Dragon Clans have keeps north of Abyss Keep. We can take them."

Theon asked, "Are these keeps as defensible as Abyss Keep?"

Nonda, a rock warrior guide, answered, "No. Abyss Keep is the only one built into the mountains. The others are simple wooden and earthwork forts, like Frost Hall and Ice Dragon Hall."

Jon Snow, Eddard's bastard son, added, "Sounds like the homes of minor Northern lords." Since capturing the heir of the Stern Clan, Jon had grown more confident, speaking up in councils.

Eddard pointed at Ice Dragon Hall and Frost Hall. "The Stone King, Samro Crowl, has summoned many warriors to defend Abyss Keep. Their clan leaders are likely there as well. That means these two halls are vulnerable. If we march on them, the Stone King may be forced to send troops to their aid."

Roose Bolton murmured, "Or he may hole up in Abyss Keep and refuse to send reinforcements."

Eddard smiled. "That would only anger his vassals. No lord would sit idly while his home burns."

Roose Bolton nodded approvingly. "I see your intent now, Lord Eddard. If the Stone King sends troops, we can destroy them in the field. If he refuses, his vassals will grow resentful, and fractures will form within Abyss Keep."

The gathered lords nodded in agreement.

Eddard continued. "I've noticed that Billy Stern of the Stern Clan seems discontent with the Stone King. The Stern Clan is the most powerful of the northern rock clans. If we can strike at their seat, Driftwood Hall…"

Nonda hesitated. "My lord, Driftwood Hall is eighty leagues away. The Northern host does not have the supplies for such a long march."

Eddard sighed. Unfortunately, he had no means of contacting 'The Sisters' pirate captain, Greybeard Casseren, or the Pentoshi sellsail fleet. They were raiding along Skagos' coasts, and some might be near Driftwood Hall.

He shook his head. "Then we move toward Ice Dragon Hall and Frost Hall. If luck is on our side, we may find the valley where the direhorns are hidden."

To the rock warriors, direhorns were sacred beasts. If they heard that their prized creatures were in danger, the chieftains at Abyss Keep might abandon their fortress to protect them."

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