Lancelot spent a lot of time befriending the giants. While they looked terrifying, they were surprisingly simple creatures—far purer and more honest than most men.
The reason Mance Rayder had summoned the giant clan to the Frostfangs was to use their immense strength to excavate the ancient graves scattered throughout the region.
The Frostfangs were littered with the tombs of the First Men.
Lancelot watched as the giants dug up grave after grave, pulling out all sorts of artifacts: stone tools, bronze weapons, old bones, and tattered rags.
But Mance Rayder couldn't find the one thing he truly wanted: the Horn of Winter. He didn't know that the horn he was so desperate to find was already in Lancelot's possession, left safely behind at Castle Black.
"Mance!" Lancelot walked up to the King-Beyond-the-Wall. Mance looked visibly aged since their last meeting in King's Landing, his face etched with anxiety.
"You've dug up half the mountain already," Lancelot said. "The Horn of Winter is just a legend. Or maybe... maybe fate just didn't choose you to find it."
"And what about you, Lancelot? Are you the chosen one?" Mance asked sharply.
"Naturally," Lancelot replied coolly. "The horn you can't find? I already have it."
"Hah!" Mance barked out a laugh, as if he'd just heard a ridiculous joke. "The Horn of Winter is in your hands? Then show it to me! Talk is cheap!"
Lancelot sighed. "I don't have it on me. I left it at Castle Black. But it is real, and it is mine. If you let me go back, I'll speak to the war council in King's Landing. We can figure out a way to settle your people south of the Wall."
"You..." Mance stared into Lancelot's eyes, searching for deceit. Instead, he found only sincerity.
"You really found it? Why haven't you blown it?"
"The Horn of Winter doesn't just bring down the Wall; legends say it wakes giants from the earth," Lancelot said. "We could use that power against the army of the dead."
"That's just a story. No one knows if it's true," Mance countered. "And until I have no other choice, I won't use it."
"But now that you know the horn is at Castle Black," Mance asked, narrowing his eyes, "aren't you afraid I'll launch an all-out attack on the Wall to get it?"
" The White Walkers are already close to the Wall," Lancelot pointed out. "If you try to attack the Wall now, you'll have to go through them first. And with your weapons? You don't stand a chance."
Lancelot was right. The army of the dead was now positioned between the wildlings and the Wall.
---
Outside the Wall, stray wights had begun to appear, wandering the Haunted Forest. They were scouts sent by the White Walkers to test the Wall's defenses.
Night's Watch patrols frequently encountered them. Thanks to their new Valyrian steel arrowheads, the rangers were able to take them down and return safely to report their findings.
Inside Castle Black, the high command of the Night's Watch, the Northern lords, and the commanders of the Seven Kingdoms' coalition forces gathered to discuss their strategy.
"The good news is, we are prepared," Benjen Stark announced to the grim-faced officers. "We have men, food, and weapons in abundance. We can fight a long war if need be."
"The bad news is... Melisandre has left," Benjen continued heavily. "She seemed to have urgent business. She hasn't just left the Wall; she's left Westeros entirely. She's returned to Volantis."
"With her gone, we lose her vision in the flames. We won't know the enemy's movements. This is a significant blow," Lord Commander Mormont—the Old Bear—grumbled.
"Why would she leave?" Ser Kevan asked, sensing something amiss. "Wasn't she sworn to Lancelot? Has something happened to him?"
He turned his gaze to Eddard Stark. "Lord Eddard, she left right after speaking with you. Do you know anything?"
"I... I don't know," Eddard stammered, trying to keep his voice steady. "Ser Lancelot will be fine! He... he will be fine."
The others exchanged worried glances. Ned Stark was a terrible liar.
"Lord Eddard, are you alright?" Roose Bolton asked softly, his pale eyes fixed on Ned like leech bites.
"I'm fine. Let us continue," Ned said, taking a deep breath to compose himself.
The council moved on to discuss a massive defensive line they were constructing beyond the Wall—a wooden barricade stretching for miles.
If the White Walkers attacked, they would have to breach this line first. The plan was to set it ablaze, using fire to decimate the wight army.
"Let's just hope the fire isn't so hot it melts the Wall," someone joked nervously.
"Impossible. The Wall's ice won't melt from normal fire. Unless we're talking about dragonfire," a senior commander from the Shadow Tower replied. He was even older than the Old Bear.
Suddenly, the doors to the council chamber burst open. Lu Bu strode in, followed by his men. He slammed a weapon onto the table.
It was a red sword, missing its scabbard.
"Rose? That's Lancelot's sword!" Ser Kevan's face went pale. "Something has happened to him!"
"We searched the area where Lord Lancelot went missing," Lu Bu stated coldly. "There were signs of massive wight activity. The probability is high: he is dead."
"Since Lord Lancelot is dead, the rest of you are not worth my loyalty. I have no interest in helping you guard this frozen wasteland," Lu Bu declared.
He turned and walked out.
"Where are you going?" someone shouted after him.
"Away from this damn place!" Lu Bu didn't even look back.
Not only did Lu Bu take his thousand Flying Bear soldiers, but the thousand Unsullied also departed, their destination unknown.
The news hit the defenders like a physical blow. A heavy cloud of dread settled over Castle Black.
Morale plummeted. Deserters began to slip away from the camps—both soldiers and brothers of the Night's Watch.
Under immense pressure, Eddard Stark led a sortie into the Haunted Forest to ambush the wight army. It was a partial success; they destroyed thousands of wights but lost nearly a thousand men in the process.
The battle taught them a grim lesson about their enemy.
Wights were not White Walkers. They were the reanimated dead. Some still clutched the weapons they held in life—swords, axes, rusty blades. Some could even shoot arrows.
Valyrian steel was excellent for killing White Walkers, but against wights, it was less effective. Wights were mostly bone and rotten flesh. Chopping them in half didn't stop them; the halves would just keep crawling.
But the defensive line in front of the Wall was finally complete. It was a massive trap waiting to be sprung, the coalition's deadliest weapon.
Every section of the barricade had been soaked in wildfire.'
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