Perilous Journeys. The Shadow over Rhudaur Part III

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Ridge above the road south of Cameth Brin, afternoon of November 2, 1347
Written by Angmar
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"Private Saakaf, what's going on down there now?" Corporal Durburz whispered. The two orc spies had been observing the scene down below for some time. Protected from both the sun and scrutiny by the dense covering of fir trees, their observation spot was on a rocky ledge high above the road. The rest of the company was lying in wait farther down the road.

"Quite a disruption, Corporal, and I don't know what to make of it. Anytime the enemy wales the bloomin' daylights out of their own kind, is a good day for us," Saakaf chortled as he turned to Corporal Durburz, the obvious glee and sadistic pleasure heavy in his voice. "Maybe they'll kill him. What do you think?" He was almost panting in his excitement.

"Don't count on it, Saakaf," Durburz growled. "That Tark who fled from the Princess' main party is probably a thief. Though they might rough him up a bit, I doubt they'll kill him, if they can help it. You know what fools Tarks are."

"Getting more interesting, Corporal. A soldier has just smashed the runaway's face into the ground, and is now bootin' him in the ribs. This is rich!" Saakaf gurgled excitedly and then moved closer to the edge of the cliff. He was silent for some minutes. "Aww, looks like the scuffle's over, Corporal," he groaned in disappointment.

"Saakaf, have you guzzled up all the draught? If you have, I'll break in your skull, you mangy little scum!" Durburz snarled, angry that there would probably be no fighting that day.

"No, sir!" Saakaf felt a prickle of fear move like ice down his spine, but he forced himself not to show his apprehension. "Here it is! I have hardly drunk any at all! Saving it for you, sir!" His lips drawing back from his fangs in a hideous grin, Saakaf handed the flask to his superior.

"Good, you little snot!" Durburz guzzled down the drink, some of the liquid running down the corners of his mouth and dripping on his leather armor. "What is happening now?"

"The Princess just rode up. Ooo! Ain't she a pretty sight to see in all her finery! Her all royal and everything, riding on her side saddle, a splendid mantle trailin' down her horse's flanks and back and almost dragging the ground. OO, indeed! She is a beauty!" His voice was low, rank with lust. "When we kidnap her and deliver her to His Majesty, they'll be golden coins jingling in our pockets!"

"Saakaf, I don't know you manage to do it, but you get more stupid every day! Don't you know? We ain't going to be the ones to present her! It'll be the Hillmen chieftain who gets all the credit, while we do the dirty work! That's the way it's always been, the way it always will be! When will you ever learn?"

"Sorry, sir," Saakaf mumbled. "You can't blame me for thinkin', can you?"

"That's your problem, you don't think, Saakaf! Your mind is full of smut and nothing else! What are they doing now, you lout?" Durburz tossed down another hefty swallow of draught.

"I'm thinkin' the lady's wantin' to kill him, but her captain is not taking to the idea too well," Saakaf replied moodily. "What a rare plaything she would make," he thought, cursing his luck that the princess was so far above him and unobtainable. "She's a strong-willed creature who wouldn't quail a bit at the sight of blood! She should have been born an orc!"

Corporal Duburz glanced at the sunlight filtering through the fir branches above them. "Curse this sun! At least we have good cover here, but still that light hurts my eyes! Daytime work is not for me! What are they doing now?"

"Corporal, it ain't like we're going to turn into stone when the sun hits us!" Saakaf said, trying to lessen the tension between the two of them.

"Shut up! Your humor is not appreciated. Maybe you don't really need your tongue! While you still have it in your mouth, just tell me what's going on," Corporal Durburz growled. The orc draught was not doing much to sweeten his mood, no matter how much he drank, but it wouldn't do any harm to drink some more, he thought.

"Well, the captain has talked her out of killing him, that's for sure. Now one of the wagon drivers is havin' his say."

"I'm going to take a look for myself." Durburz slid closer to the edge of the cliff and peered down to the road below.

"What do you make of it, Corporal?" Saakaf ventured cautiously.

"It's a botched job, and I have a feeling that Broggha's man blundered someway and got himself caught!"

"What do you mean? What about the signal?" Saakaf asked, puzzled.

"You fool! Can't you get anything through your thick skull? I don't think there is going to be any signal! Besides that, there are far too many soldiers for our number to go against. Saakaf, here's what I want you to do. Report back to Captain Ashuk and tell him that if I'm not mistaken, Broggha's agent has been captured, and we need new orders. After you have reported, join up with me south along the ridge, where I will be keeping the Princess' party under observation."

***

After Private Saakaf had lumbered off along the top of the ridge, Durburz lay flat on the edge of the cliff and observed the road below him. In the past few minutes, the scene had become infinitely more interesting. His eyes lit up with a gleaming malice as the prisoner was escorted to the hanging tree. With each step Algierr took, the orc breathed harder. Durburz could scarcely bear the anticipation. His muscles were tense and straining with the urge to make his own kill. He dug his clawed fingernails into the shallow soil. When the noose was placed around the prisoner's neck, Durburz was panting in long, ragged gasps. The body dropped! When Algierr's neck hit the end of the rope, low snarls and growls erupted out of the orc's throat.

"Saakaf will hate himself when he finds out that he missed out on all of the sport," he chuckled to himself. Mind still transfixed, he watched the twitching corpse swing slowly from the tree branch. "Fresh meat," he licked his lips. That night when things settled down, Corporal Durburz would creep to the floor of the valley, cut the corpse free and make off with it. He would have his fill and then hide the body beneath a rock cairn. He could always get the remainder later, and none of the rest of the company needed to know. Only a fool shared when he didn't have to do so. It had been a good day, but the night showed promise of being even better.

***

Private Saakaf was more than a little apprehensive as he trotted along the ridge to the rendezvous with the rest of the company. He felt fear biting like a snake, bitter and harsh deep in his guts. Something had gone wrong, terribly wrong, and he was not quite certain how he could explain it all to Captain Ashuk.

"Ashuk won't like this," he grumbled as he arrived at the edge of a grove of young firs. A fire had destroyed the old growth a few years back, and now the new trees were thick and bushy. Pushing his way through the last of the branches, he walked out into a small clearing. The ridge narrowed into a bony spine here, the ground on both sides falling away into steep ravines, jumbled boulders and dense groves.

Smelling the air, he stopped by a large spruce whose top had been blasted out by lightning during some storm in the past. The night wind blowing from the northwest put him downwind from the company. He inhaled deeply, his nostrils wrinkling at the reek of filthy bodies blending with the aroma of wood smoke, earth and trees. He could even recognize the individual smells of a number of the men in the company. He knew the scent of Captain Ashuk all too well.

"I doubt any of us have had a bath since we were born... or even then," he chuckled. "Those tarks and even hillmen keep washing up - makes 'em hard to tell apart without their smell." He would not spend much time in reflection about that, though, for he was rapidly approaching the picket post. Even though he and the picket were in the same clan, of the same blood, and had known each other almost since they were whelps, still he had to stand at attention and give the password. Ashuk wouldn't stand for sloppy discipline. With a grunt and a nod, the orderly waved him ahead.

"Saakaf," the captain recognized his salute with a nod, "what news?"

"Sir, I don't know what to make of it..."

"Don't try to make anything of it! Just tell me what happened!"

"Sir," Saakaf stood so stiffly at attention that it looked like his spine had turned into an iron rod, "first of all sir, Princess Gimilbeth's escort is far too large for this company of only two hundred to attack with any hope of success."

"Rotten news! Anything else?" Captain Ashuk growled.

"Corporal Durburz bids me tell you that it is his opinion that the spy who was to give the signal for our attack is no more." Cringing, Saakaf watched the captain's eyes narrow, his jaw set as his face began to build to that thundercloud of anger which could erupt into a killing fury.

"Saakaf, what are you talking about!" the captain snarled.

"Sir, it's like this... Durburz saw a man take off running, but the soldiers soon caught up with him and brought him back to the main party. There was quite a bit of arguing back and forth about what to do with him. Princess Gimilbeth demanded that he be executed, but her captain of the guard was urging her to go easy on him. All that changed when he was searched and one of the soldiers found some sort of jewels - a necklace or something upon him. From all the excitement about the discovery, the jewelry must be worth a king's ransom!"

"Hmmmm..." Captain Ashuk listened intently as he reached a hand into the neck of his tunic and scratched his fleas. "Things are getting sweeter all the time. A necklace, you say, and very valuable? The North might be happy about this. Maybe it's some rare treasure from that sunken island where everyone says His Majesty was born!"

"Captain Ashuk, you really think that's true? He is THAT old?" Saakaf's beady eyes had popped open wide and he gaped at his superior officer.

"Saakaf, you simpleton! How would I know? A mere captain of a company of orcs is not taken into His Majesty's confidences! Don't ever ask me such a stupid question like that again." Captain Ashuk's beefy hand darted out and slapped Saakaf's helmet so hard that the orc was knocked to one side.

His ears still ringing, Saakaf gulped and righted himself. "No, no, sir, no sir, never again! Accept my apologies!"

"Saakaf, you are never going to rise above the rank of private. You will spend the rest of your wretched days cleaning stinking latrines! Appropriate, don't you think, for an idiot like you?" Captain Ashuk leered at him.

"Oh, yes, sir, oh yes! Very appropriate, sir!" Private Sakaaf resisted the urge to clutch his head and groan. His skull felt as though it was going to explode at any moment. He tried to think of something more pleasant to drive the pain from his head. Fresh manflesh, well-beaten to make the blood rise close to the surface, red and sumptuous... A female orc as lusty as he was. Rich booty, gold and silver... Tark halls and keeps belching up with flames and black smoke, then burning to ash... Nothing was working. His head was still throbbing as though someone were pounding him over the head. His old comforts didn't seem to help tonight. Then he put his mind to thinking about the most beautiful and wondrous thing he had ever seen in all his life.

The image of Princess Gimilbeth flashed through his mind. She was riding her magnificent horse with the caparisons streaming out behind it like banners floating off a standard. "She is magic," he thought as he felt his heart skip a beat. Her proud voice commanding her men, her face haughty and beautiful, her dark hair like the wing of a raven... He smiled in spite of the pain. "I must be in love," he thought, "in love for the first time in ever all my life! How can I endure this agony until I see her again!"

Captain Ashuk's bellow brought him back from his dazed reverie. "What else do you have to report? What happened to the man?"

"The princess ordered him hanged, and the last time I saw him, his corpse was swinging from a branch."

"This changes everything," the captain spat out through clenched teeth. "The company just has to follow the princess' entourage until we see a good opening. Then we hit them!" He rubbed his warty chin and laughed maliciously.

"I can follow her forever," Saakaf thought dreamily, "to the ends of the earth!"