Chapter 15
Pushdug couldn't stop shaking.
He hadn't been able to since he killed the other orc, and the muscles in his face kept twitching. Moreover, he could barely keep his thoughts focused on finding a way out of the valley. His mind kept replaying the moment when he lopped off the healer's head; he could still feel his blade slice through flesh and sinew, and smell the iron tang of blood.
By Morgoth, he'd give anything to experience it again.
"Oi!" Ashuruk startled, grabbing Pushdug by the collar of his leather cuirass.
He fell upon the smaller orc, shoving him to the ground before he could walk haphazardly through a thicket. Pushdug felt all the air leave his lungs as the heavier orc kept him pinned to the ground, pressing his face flat against the soft earth.
His ears perked up as horse hooves and twinkling bells sounded in the distance, coming closer with every passing second. The adrenaline that suddenly flooded his veins banished the thoughts of gore and blood, and every sense was focused upon the pack of Elves that thundered past them.
He moved his head so he could see the horses' legs, but even when the last of them rode away Ashuruk still lay on top of him. The fat orc remained until the sound of horses were long gone, and it wasn't until Pushdug began squirming that Ashuruk rolled away.
"Blimey! You almost ran right out in front of 'em!" Ashuruk cried as Pushdug gasped for air. "Didn't you hear them coming?"
"Of course!" Pushdug coughed as he stood, then wiped away the dirt that clung to his clothing. It didn't make him look any cleaner. "I just, well, I was―"
"Thinking about Bagronk?" a spindly orc with tiny voice said, his large round eyes stared at him like an unblinking fish.
"Who?" Pushdug asked, scratching his forehead with his scimitar. "You talking about that healer?"
"Yea," the orc replied. "You've been acting awfully strange since you killed him."
"Bah!" Pushdug dismissed the notion with a wave of his hand. "I've just been concentrating awfully hard is all, trying to find a way out of here. You lot haven't been coming up with anything, so I've been having to do all the thinking!"
"You brought us straight to an Elven road, which we've been trying to avoid all night!" The bug-eyed orc was clearly unconvinced, and neither were two others. An orc with lumpy skin and another with twig like limbs stood by him.
"Oh I don't think so," the one with lumpy skin said. "I was a part of Captain Gazmog's outfit before he went mad with bloodlust. After he executed some poor grunt for stealin' he started shaking and wasn't able to concentrate on nothin' he did. Suddenly he went berserk and killed at least fifty of his own troupe before three lieutenants and two trolls were able to kill 'im," he said with a nod.
As if on cue, Pushdug's scimitar rattled in his hand and the corners of his mouth twitched. He couldn't help but wonder if the orc's bones were lumpy too. He could easily peel the skin away to find out…
"Oi! You listenin'?" the twiggy one said in a deep voice.
"I um―" Pushdug loudly cleared his throat as his face continued to twitch.
Unexpectedly, Pushdug lunged for the lumpy orc. His scimitar came down on the orc's shoulder, slicing his arm clean off. The orc howled and jumped back, as did the other two orcs that were nearest to him.
"Blimey!" Ashuruk called somewhere behind him. "What did you do that for?"
"He's gone mad is what!" the bug-eyed orc cried as Pushdug swung his scimitar again, this time trying to slice his other arm off.
The lumpy one managed to evade the swipe and turned to run into the forest. Pushdug started after him, but ―luckily for the other orc― Pushdug's foot caught a loose tree root and he fell flat on his face. It managed to clear the deadly haze that clouded his thoughts for the time being.
"That's it! I ain't stayin' here with the likes of him!" the bug-eyed orc said as he carefully edged his way around Pushdug and followed after the other orc.
"Got a better chance of getting killed quick by the Elves than with 'im," the twiggy orc said, close on the heels of bug-eye.
By the time Pushdug got to his feet, all the other orcs had fled, save Ashuruk. His eyes were transfixed on the swaying branches in the thickets, indicating the different directions the other orcs ran. Pushdug felt deflated as he once again brushed off his dirty armor. His command of an orc troupe hadn't lasted two hours, and he had driven away all those whom he could readily kill.
It was such a shame.
"Aren't you going to run off too?" Pushdug asked, looking at Ashuruk out of the corner of his eye. The other orc shrugged.
"Suppose I could," he responded. "But I figure I got a better chance of surviving this ordeal by sticking around with you than any of the other lot."
"Oh?" Pushdug's brows rose as the pudgy orc took a few steps closer to him.
"You're probably the most dangerous orc in this entire valley right now," he said. "I figure, you'll be the one who can hack our way out of this mess, or if the Elves catch us and you go stark raving mad with bloodlust, I'll have an easier time escaping while they're concentrating on trying to kill you."
Ashuruk seemed proud of his plan because he grinned and nodded the entire time he spoke. Pushdug's mouth hung open in utter bewilderment, because it was an utterly despicable, utterly brilliant plan.
If anyone was going to survive this, it was going to be them for sure.
"Hopefully, those other idiots will be able to cause enough trouble to keep the Elves' attention on them and not us," Pushdug said as he and Ashuruk started back into the forest, moving away from the elven path.
"You know, this is the first time tonight that I genuinely think that I'll live through this," Ashuruk replied. "I could almost sing for joy."
"Please don't, I may actually kill you if you do."
