Chapter 12

Pushdug did his best not to gulp loudly as a hooded Elf crept above the ravine where he and the other orcs hid. He kept his back flat against the ivy-covered rock as the Elf stole along the edge, its grey eyes glistening in the dark.

This was the fourth troupe of Elves they had come across and each time was more unnerving than the last. His heart thumped wildly in his chest as he heard it whispering to another unseen Elf in its melodic tongue, which burned his ears. He glanced over at the other orcs who assumed similar positions, their eyes clenched and limbs trembling with fear.

However, Pushdug's mouth fell open when the spindly healer opened his mouth, drew in a sharp breath, then barely stifle a sneeze that escaped him. A sharp whisper escaped the Elf, and the orcs could hear more Elves move through the trees above them.

After a few tense minutes, the Elf said something, and the Elves withdrew barely rustling the foliage in their wake. Pushdug motioned for the orcs to follow him, pressing a finger to his lips to encourage them to keep silent. They tiptoed away from the ravine, staying in the shadows and listening for anything that might indicate the presence of Elves. Pushdug never thought the sounds of rustling leaves or a hooting owl would nearly give him a heart attack.

When they reached the shadow of a great elm tree Pushdug stopped, turned, then smacked the sneezing orc with the flat side of his scimitar.

"You bumbling oaf!" he hissed, keeping his voice low so as not to arouse any unwanted attention. "You nearly went and gave us all away!"

"Well I couldn't help it!" the healer cried, and was smacked by three other orcs who felt he was too loud.

"If you do anything like it again, or can't keep your loudmouth shut, then I'll slice your throat open!" It was what a captain would say, Pushdug told himself with a firm nod.

"Eh, what?" the healer blinked, scarcely believing what he heard. Was the little tinkering Pushdug daring to challenge him? Even though they were both grunts amongst orc society, there was still a level of hierarchy. Healers came before patch workers.

"You heard me," Pushdug said as he gripped his scimitar tighter. "I'll make sure you won't talk or cause us trouble again; one dead orc is better than twelve dead orcs."

A quiet murmur of agreement passed through the orcs as they all turned their beady eyes upon the healer, whom they believed had caused too much trouble already. They had already created a rough circle around him, and they fingered the knives and weapons they had in their hands.

"You honestly going to listen to this grunt?" the healer cried, pointing his finger at Pushdug. "He's been acting like he's the one in charge since Globuk got killed!"

All eyes turned to Pushdug, and some silently agreed that the tiny Pushdug had been overstepping his bounds. If anyone should have been their leader, it was definitely not him. However, Pushdug puffed out his chest and pointed back.

"I ain't the one who's been sneezing and forgetting that we're being hunted by Elf lords!" he said. "I've been the one who has led us away from them five times now! You're the grunt!"

The healer drew a saw-like weapon from his belt, one encrusted with black blood from a thousand amputations, and snarled. He lunged at Pushdug, bringing his weapon down upon his head, but Pushdug dodged and with one clean swipe of his sharpened scimitar, he sliced off the healer's arm.

He let loose a squeal of pain as black gore spurt from the stump of his arm before Pushdug swiftly beheaded him. His head fell to the ground and rolled some distance before it came to a stop at the feet of another orc.

His heart hammered wildly in his chest as adrenaline coursed through his veins, scarcely believing how good it felt to kill the healer. Killing other things was second nature to orcs, but to kill another orc, it was exhilarating.

All eyes now regarded him with a mixture of wonder and fear, and Pushdug pointed the end of his bloodied scimitar at them.

"Now, the rest of you had better keep quiet or I'll do the same thing to you!" he hissed, and they quickly nodded their heads in concession.

They kicked the healer, and his head, under a pile of bushes before they followed Pushdug away from the elm. This time though, they made sure they barely made a sound. Their newly appointed leader already looked like he was ready to kill something else. They just hoped it was an Elf next time.