With Hope and Without Hope

Chapter 3: Taking Winnings

The defeat of the three spies was never in doubt. The uruk-hai Norgry only wondered whether they would give up or fight to the death. They had lasted longer than he'd expected, but after the man's leg had caught the arrow, the dwarf had soon followed. Maybe he was distracted by the wounding of his comrade. These mortals tended to stick together. Worry about each other. That usually ended badly for them. 

Orcs and uruk-hai were not bothered with such worries. Survival and little else mattered to this rabble. Norgry nearly laughed when the elf attempted to defend all three of them when he alone was left standing. It wasn't long before the fool realized his efforts were in vain and held up his hands in defeat. Norgry was a bit disappointed, for it would have been a pleasurable kill. But now that Uglúk had given orders to keep the three creatures alive if they surrendered, Norgry hoped to savor their deaths at his own pace. Especially that disgusting elf—he would enjoy killing him.

The uruk leader had halted the march to stick his nose into what was supposed to be under Norgry's control. When the battle raging on the far side of the eastern hill caught his attention, a strange gleam had grown in Uglúk's eyes. Norgry didn't know what Uglúk was up to, changing their orders from 'kill all but the halflings' to this talk of keeping prisoners, but he was not of a mind to argue with the hulking uruk. So he had overseen the battle as it played out in the pale predawn and made sure Uglúk's new command was obeyed.

Norgry sent five of the group ogling their catch to approach the three as they stood in defeat, their weapons at their feet. The man panted and leaned on his good leg. The dwarf's leg bled, but he seemed not to notice. The elf stared at them all with steely eyes. "Step back from your weapons!" shouted one of his soldiers.

The dwarf grumbled. "This is madness. Better to battle until they have slain us!" The dwarf was smarter than he looked, to Norgry's surprise.

"Aye, Gimli, it would be better for us," the elf answered quietly. "But we can help no one if we are dead." The dwarf gave him no reply but stepped back stiffly from his weapon, as the others did when the orc repeated his command more forcefully.

A small goblin that had climbed the hill to watch the spectacle grabbed at the gleaming sword the man had cast down, but after a moment, he cried out and threw the weapon away as if it burned him. With a snarl, he glared at the man then back at his fellow soldiers. "Elvish make that one must be! It burns like fire!"

At that moment, another small orc cried out. From the North, both of them, Norgry remembered. "Ai! This one too!" He flung the bow into the field, and the elf's eyes followed its path through the brightening sky.

Norgry laughed. "You northern lads must have rat dung for brains! Of course it's elvish, bûb-bag! It belongs to an elf. Now stop this nonsense and bind them!"

"Norgry, this axe ain't elvish. It's strong. Can I keep it?"

Norgry narrowed his eyes at the rat. Always he was asking for the go ahead for what he meant to do anyway. If he didn't get permission, he'd find another way to get what he wanted. Norgry hefted the dwarvish axe and swung it about, causing many to step back, uncertain they weren't about to be cut down. "It's strong, but heavier than I like my weapons. Keep it if you want." With a shrug, he thrust it back to the orc. "But you best search them for other weapons if you don't want your throat cut of a sudden. And take their packs. Might have something of use. Now hurry up!"

An orc quickly retrieved their belongings. The man held onto his pack, his hand rummaging inside as if trying to salvage something from it. The orc tried to wrench it from him, then suddenly the man surrendered it, hands empty, yielding the pack and all its contents. Norgry narrowed his eyes at the strange behavior, but he didn't have time to figure out the man's actions.