The Abandoned Fishing Village lay on the southern bank of the Trident River's mouth. Three leagues upstream on the northern bank stood Salt Town, while an island called Silent Isle sat in the middle of the river.
When Ser Darren Grafson arrived with his "caravan," the entire Abandoned Fishing Village was silent, just as it had been through the countless days and nights since that overcast afternoon fourteen years ago.
It had happened shortly after the Battle of the Trident River. A force of Vale cavalry, pursuing the remnants of the royalist army defeated at Ruby Ford, had ridden eastward. Passing through this prosperous little fishing village, they had casually plundered it.
To avoid being held accountable afterward by Duke Arryn, whose words were "As High as Honor," they had slaughtered the villagers without hesitation after looting the fishing village, leaving no survivors.
Beyond the Abandoned Fishing Village stretched a weed-choked marsh. The little path that had once led to the village had become nearly indistinct after more than a decade of repeated flooding by the rising river.
On Ser Darren's orders, the caravan of twenty-eight men stopped roughly eight hundred yards outside the village. Then Ser Darren's squire rode off alone, parting the weeds that nearly blocked his view as he headed toward the village.
The squire carefully rode over the muddy, slippery ground to the village entrance, exchanged signals with a guard inside through gestures, then cautiously returned to Ser Darren's side.
After confirming that nothing unusual had happened, Ser Darren ordered everyone in the caravan to dismount and proceed toward the village.
"Daron, have you noticed that this path is far muddier than the last time we came?" the old Ser Shalit said to his young master as they walked. "It isn't flood season. There's no reason