Chapter 58: The Fall of Coldfrost Hall

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The Northern army captured Coldfrost Hall with ease.

It was a two-story stronghold built of mud and wood, its thatched roof making it even humbler than some of the watchtowers in the North.

The battle was over before it began. Theon Greyjoy loosed two arrows, killing two elderly rockfolk who had tried to resist with wooden clubs. The last of them, a fat old man, cried out, "We surrender!" and opened the wooden gate. Three more white-haired elders shuffled out, followed by six children of the rockfolk, the oldest no more than eleven.

Eddard Stark looked at the elders before him. "Is this all that remains of Coldfrost Hall?"

One of the rockfolk elders spoke up. "Our chieftain, Gerwen, answered the call of the Stone King and took all the able-bodied warriors to Abyss Hold. Only we remain."

Elders and children were nothing but useless mouths to feed in a siege. Even if they had followed their kin to Abyss Hold, the Stone King likely would have refused them.

Theon grinned, spinning an arrow between his fingers. "Two shots, and I took a castle for the North. When I return to Winterfell, I'll be sure to boast of this to Robb."

Domeric Bolton, heir to the Dreadfort, chuckled. "Theon, this may very well be the peak of your achievements. It would be hard to find a castle more wretched or defenseless in all the Seven Kingdoms."

Skagos was rich with stone, as Eddard had observed over the past few days. The quality of the rock was no worse than that found in the Vale. With skilled masons, a true fortress could be raised, yet the rockfolk lacked both the skill and the means. Their homes were built from wood and mud, the best they could manage.

Once Skagos was subdued, and its people sworn to Winterfell, Eddard would ensure that the island's resources were put to good use. If left in poverty, the rockfolk would only rebel again in time.

Jon Snow peered into the hall. "My lord, I see no women."

Eddard nodded. "They likely fled into the mountains or caves."

Jon frowned. "Should we send men to root them out?"

Eddard shook his head. "Jon, if you hope to command one day, you must understand terrain and strategy. We are in unfamiliar land. Skagos is a maze of peaks, valleys, and narrow trails. If we send men into those caves, the rockfolk warriors will ambush them. We would lose too many."

Jon considered his words carefully and nodded.

Ser Jory Cassel and Syrio Forel, the Braavosi water dancer, searched the hall. Jory returned with a few hard biscuits and some sour cheese, while Syrio found half a roasted chicken.

Jory frowned. "My lord, the granaries are empty. It seems their chieftain took the supplies when he left."

Eddard was not surprised. "With only a few elders and children left behind, of course he took the food with him. No doubt he brought it to Abyss Hold."

Greatjon Umber rumbled, "My lord, the rockfolk conspired with the ironborn to raid the eastern coast. We should slaughter these elders and children as a lesson to their chieftain."

Eddard shook his head. "The crimes were committed by the Stone King and the ironborn. If we butcher every rockfolk, how are we better than the savages we fight?"

Rickard Karstark of Karhold spoke next. "Then we should burn this hall."

Destroying the chieftain's seat would force the Stone King to leave Abyss Hold and face them in battle. Winterfell's men set the thatched roof alight, and soon, Coldfrost Hall was ablaze.

Eddard turned to the elders and children. The old men had likely been warriors in their youth, but now they were frail, their courage burned away by age. None dared meet his gaze.

The children, however, glared at him in defiance.

Eddard decided to send a message to Abyss Hold. The elders would be the messengers; the children, the leverage. The old had no future beyond their graves. The young could yet grow into warriors.

"Take these children," he ordered. "Shackle them and put them in the cages."

The rockfolk youths cursed and struggled as Winterfell's soldiers dragged them away.

Now, only the elders remained, kneeling before Eddard. He raised his voice.

"You will go to Abyss Hold and tell your chieftain what has happened here. Tell him that I have burned your hall. If the chieftains at Abyss Hold continue to follow the Stone King, I will burn every last one of their strongholds."

He stepped forward, voice turning cold as iron. "Tell them this: The North will sell every captured rockfolk woman and child to the slavers. Your daughters will be sent to the brothels of Lys. Your sons will toil as laborers in Tyrosh and Myr. We will burn your fields and salt the earth so that nothing may grow."

The elders trembled at his words. At his signal, the soldiers pushed them toward the trees. Soon, they would carry his message to Abyss Hold.

Jon Snow looked uneasy. "My lord, do you truly mean to sell their women and children to slavers? That is outlawed in the Seven Kingdoms."

Domeric Bolton agreed. "Aye, my lord. When Ser Jorah Mormont sold poachers into slavery, you punished him harshly. He fled across the Narrow Sea and has never dared return. Now you would do the same?"

Theon Greyjoy scowled. "I say we should sell them. Every ironborn reaver has the right to take thralls. But salting their land… you would leave them with no future?"

Eddard smiled slightly. "You are young yet, all of you. Do you truly think I would follow through? My words were a lie, meant to stir fear. I must drive the rockfolk from Abyss Hold and force a battle on our terms. Only a terror great enough will spread dread and serve my purpose."

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