Freedom, she quickly found, was not so easily won. Patrols of orcs loyal to the master, had stood between her and the promise of independence. The creatures were keen of ear and eye but they were not as crafty as she. The magic the master had woven into her creation had made her both strong in battle and stealthy in shadow. It was the knowledge the master had imparted that saved her time and again. Instinct screamed at her to run or battle her way out. It was a dangerous urge and it was exhausting to refuse it. Creeping past patrols and the occasional lone orc, her caution was rewarded as she was able to slip out of the tower.
Outside of the tower, she realized how vulnerable to discovery her naked state made her. While she might be able to pass as an orc or male Uruk-Hai with a covering of some kind, naked she would be easily discovered for what she was. The corpses of great trees and the ramshackle buildings erected by the orcs, gave her cover enough to make her way to a lone orc. The creature was busy mending a leather boot and did not notice her approach. This time she unleashed her instinct. Clawed hands reached out and snapped the orc's neck. Limply the body fell to the earth. Resisting the urge to bellow in triumph, she started the business of stripping the body.
The filthy and tattered garments that the creature wore, were less than pleasant to don, but clean clothing would have been wasted on her filthy body. As it was, the clothing did not fit correctly. She was far taller than the orc neither the tunic nor the leggings were long enough. The roughly made breastplate she discarded. Unlike the clothes, it would not stretch to fit. The sword was another matter. Clumsily made but serviceable, she valued it more than anything provided by the dead orc. Sheathing in its battered scabbard, she hurriedly pulled the orc's boots on and draped the gray cloak about her shoulders and head. The disguise would not pass a careful inspection, but it was hopefully enough. With confident and purposeful strides, she moved through the encampment.
Keeping to cover where she could without looking suspicious, she passed through the army of orcs. Activity around her was frantic and almost compulsive. Forges belched heat and smoke. The sounds of weapons and armor being forged nearly blocked out the sounds of Mordor's black tongue. So intent on their own activities, they had no time to bother with a single orc that seemed to be on an errand. The perimeter guards were harder to fool.
Without a plausible excuse, they would never let her pass. Pausing behind a tent, she considered the problem. The closer she came to freedom, the more desperate she felt. She didn't think she could stand it if she was discovered so close to her goal. Desperation won out and she moved stealthy towards the perimeter guard that was further away from the encampment than the others. Another broken neck later, she disappeared into what remained of the forest. Once under the cover of the trees, instinct won and she bolted deeper into the woods.
* * *
Her body's urges to rest and find food and water were becoming vicious. She had spent most of the night, and a good part of the day fleeing. Alternating between a walk and a run, she had forced herself onwards. It was becoming painfully clear that she would be able to go no further for a time. Legs aching and weak, she forced herself to the large river she had been following for the last few hours. Crouching down, she dipped her head to the water's surface and began to take great gulps of water. Clear and fresh, the water was icy cold. She did not finish until her stomach was full of the liquid. Never before had she drunk her fill. It was an intoxicating sensation.
With the abundance of water, she was tempted to bathe. The fluid from her birthing had clung unpleasantly to her skin. It had then dried into a foul smelling second skin. Tempting as it would have been to remove it, it was far to close to nightfall. She would not dry in the remaining time, and being damp would tempt exposure. A fire would have been out of the question, even if she knew how to make one.
Weary and footsore, she forced herself up. She would need food and shelter if she were to rest the night. The task of creating a shelter was almost beyond her. A large pine tree with downward sloping branches, had been a welcome discovery. With more branches snapped from another pine, she had created herself a wind proof shelter. She then piled as much leaf litter as she could find, onto the ground. Satisfied with her shelter, she returned to the oak tree she'd noticed. Scrabbling on the ground she searched for acorns. Most were from the previous season, but she didn't care. Bitter and dry, they were unpleasant even to her untutored pallet. The lucky find, of pine nuts were only slightly better.
Stomach growling at the unfamiliar task of digestion, she made her way back to her shelter. Night was beginning to creep through the trees. Tired she lay down in the dry leaves. The unfamiliar sounds of the forest played through her mind and teased her fears. The master would have to know she was gone. Thoughts of pursuit and being caught unaware sent tingles of terror through her. Angrily she thrust those thoughts aside. She had covered her trail and was far away from the master. She was no longer a slave. That thought comforted her and she slipped towards slumber. No, she was not a slave. She was Larza of the forest. Larza the Free.
* * *
Unfamiliar cries woke her. Adrenaline surged through her body and Larza stilled, trying to focus on the danger that had woken her. In the half-light of dawn, her shelter was shadowed. The strange cry sounded again and her skin prickled. It seemed no closer than before but Larza wasn't certain. All the instincts she had been pushing away suddenly rushed up to choke her. Rational thought fled with the third cry. Fear and anger rushed up and with a challenging bellow, Larza burst from her shelter. Her cry echoed through the woods and a dark colored bird uttered a final cry and flew away in a panic.
Thoroughly embarrassed with her foolish reaction, Larza nervously glanced about the woods. Nothing seemed to have heard her clamor but she needed to be sure. Silent through the trees, she circled around the immediate area around her shelter. There was nothing that suggested pursuit and her fears eased. Larza knew that her fears were probably absurd. She had gone to great lengths to obscure her trail. It would take the Master a great deal of effort to locate her. She was safe, at least for now.
Hunger drew her out of her thoughts. There were no more acorns or pine nuts, to her disappointment. Her knowledge contained little information on surviving in the forest. Most of what she knew had to do with killing and obeying the master. The faint tracks on the ground made her think that her knowledge of killing might be useful after all. The rabbit tracks were faint but she quickly found fresher traces. The kinds of traps and snares she knew about were meant for larger more intelligent prey but they would work well enough for rabbits if she made a few adaptations. Several traps later, she was all the more hungry and sweaty. The few wild onions she recognized she ate and tried not to wince at their strong taste.
Water filled the final corners of her stomach. With the sun climbing in the sky, Larza allowed herself a long awaited wash. The water was cold and made her shiver as she scrubbed at her body with a handful of sand. The gritty sand slowly scoured the grime and film of dried slime from her skin. Her hair was determinedly soaked out of its stiff mats. Larza stayed in the water longer than necessary. The cleansing water felt good against her body. Idly she wondered if she stayed long enough, her painful memories would be washed away too. Paddling to the stream bank, she hauled herself up. A lazy glance back at the water made her stiffen in surprise. The sun had moved to strike the water at just the right angle so she could see her reflection. Curious, she leaned over further. Hungry to know more of herself, Larza brushed her dangling hair away from her face.
She'd not seen another Uruk-Hai, although she knew of their existence. The only other beings she had as a basis of comparison were orcs and the master. Her face looked as if it was stuck somewhere in the middle. Her eyes were a sulphurous yellow and shadowed by a high brow. Her strong square jaw and heavy features matched it well. Her lips might be generously named full but her lower incisors jutted prominently from her mouth. Her skin was pale but leathery and resilient to her touch. Larza seemed to instinctively know it wasn't a visage that could be thought of as attractive.
Roughly she threw a lump of dirt into the water, breaking the reflection. Angry, but not really understanding why, Larza hurried back to her shelter. If she planned on staying for a few days, then she had to scout out more food. There wasn't time to worry about trivial things such as her appearance.
* * *
Rage pounded his skull. Saruman strode across the room trying to walk off his anger. The female Uruk-Hai had escaped. Worse, was that there was no possibility of returning her. If he sent troop to capture her, then her existence would be revealed. That would not work in his favor. He could hope that the female would die in the wilderness. Saruman was well aware that the Uruk-Hai knew little of survival skills. The knowledge the female did have would insure she was far from Isengard, but would it would not insure her continued health. That knowledge wasn't sufficient to calm his temper. His magic could find her and obliterate her, but he was unable to do so. With the Fellowship about to leave Lothlorien according to his master's orders, Saruman had to be careful in his use of magic. He would have little power to spare outside of his duties to his master. The concerns raised by the female only reinforced the need for discretion with his magic.
The implication of the defiance in her actions was not lost to him. Quite simply, the Uruk-Hai should not be capable of the slightest hint of disobedience, let alone betrayal. Saruman had spent a great deal of his time and power to ensure absolute control of his creations. His creation's lack loyalty was perhaps the greatest and most immediate danger to him. Why a female had been born remained a mystery, but he could simply dispose of any further such developments. It was unfortunate that freewill could not be so easily dealt with.
The cruelty and cunning of the orcs, made them useful soldiers. Their warped natures, however, extended to their minds. This rendered their minds rather primitive. Saruman had gone to great lengths to make the Uruk-Hai intelligent. That intelligence made them adaptable and able to take the initiative in ways the average orc could not. Now, it seemed that this intelligence would have to be harnessed. Such matters would take consideration. It would be a pity if they thought they could rise up against him. Saruman knew that while the flaws in his creation were a serious matter, they were the least of his concerns.
The concealment of these developments bothered him the most. Saruman knew that this new information would be near impossible to hide from his master.
Sauron's sight extended over all of Middle Earth. Nothing could be hidden from his gaze... once Sauron knew of it. There in lay Saruman's hope. If his failures remained undiscovered, then his plans were undisturbed. None of the orcs that patrolled Isengard had noticed the female's presence. In other circumstances that would have meant death, but in this case, it was their ignorance that kept them alive. The perimeter guard's death had been ascribed to one of the many feuds that raged within orc ranks. He had taken care of all the remaining evidence, of which there was very little. For now he could only continue to follow his master's orders. Once the Uruk-Hai destroyed the Fellowship and brought the halfling to him, his usefulness to Sauron would be unquestioned. Then he could address the wayward female.
* * *
Raw meat was somewhat unpleasant, Larza quickly found out. In the evening's thickening shadows, she determinedly chewed on the last haunch of rabbit. The flesh was stringy and difficult to chew. Instinct prompted her to enjoy the copper taste of blood and the pulpy flesh in her mouth, but Larza found herself hurrying through her meal. Her instincts were a part of her but did not own her. If she had a fire, she would have happily tried to cook the meat. This was but one of many things that she chose not to follow her instinct's lead in. The most important in her mind had been running from the master. Not following her instincts made things far more uncertain. She was somewhat at a loss as what to do with herself.
Had she been male, she would be fighting her brothers for dominance. She would have donned war paint mixed with the blood of her kills to make her appearance more frightening. She would have obeyed the master's every command. None of that mattered, now. What use did she have of war paint or fighting with nonexistent brothers? What Larza did know, was that she had to keep moving. The threat of being found would never go away. Even now the master could be searching for her. That thought provoked a fierce storm within her. Fear lapped at her heart and Larza had to restrain herself from bolting.
Where would she go? Deeper into the wilds? None of the other races upon Middle Earth would take her in. How well the orcs had insured the hate of the other races. The orcs were truly despised, and with good reason. The race of Men would happily kill her, as would any elf if she intruded. There was also the question of whether she wanted to find other beings. Her heart made a lie of that thought. Larza was painfully aware how alone she was. As chilling as that loneliness was, it was better than the pain the master had inflicted upon her. It was a better fate to be alone, than to be killed or worse at the hands of her brothers.
Burying the bones and bloody hides of the rabbits, Larza returned to her shelter. Night was growing ever dark and she was beginning to desire rest. Slowly she let her mind slip towards sleep. The rhythmic splash of water eased her further into slumber. The sound was soothing and lulled her gently. Circling through her mind, the splashing slowly began to be interpreted. Her body jerked to full consciousness. That noise did not belong either to the forest or the river. After being startled by the bird, Larza had taken care to familiarize herself with the noises around her. This sound was new. Indecision tightened in her bowls for long moments. Finally, Larza slunk from her shelter.
If the master had found her, then she hiding would make no difference. Dying in battle was a far better fate than being murdered as she quivered with cowardice under a tree. Keeping to shadow, Larza moved silently through the forest. The moon's faint glow made the river glow with silver. The molten river made the passage of the boats all the more clear.
Within the boats was the strangest company she could imagine. Two humans, an elf, a dwarf and four small beings that she didn't recognize. What would draw and hold so many different beings together, she could not fathom. From her vantagepoint in a tree, she could clearly see them all. Larza could also hear the order that came from the dark haired human. Her nerves jangled as she realized they planned to disembark on her side of the river. There was no evidence of her presence that would give her away. That was something Larza had been careful to hide. Regardless, she disliked the idea of a heavily armed group close by. Larza felt the urge to run but something kept her sitting in her tree. It was a strange urge. There was no reason for her to stay, indeed it would be wise to leave, but instead of wanting to run she felt the desire to stay.
The group quickly secured the boats and moved further into the forest. Larza followed in the shadows. She watched longingly as they set a fire and began to warm flat loaves of journey bread over the coals. The smell was painfully tempting. As the company ate, Larza glanced at the elf. The golden haired elf seemed uneasy, and Larza drew further back. Somehow she knew he felt her presence. Further away, it was hard to hear their talk. The voices echoed through the trees and tempted her ears. Such companionship was alien and yet it made her loneliness all the more heavy.
Soon the mismatched company prepared for sleep. Larza was pleased to note that one of the humans stayed awake. Clearly they feared being attacked. That in itself made Larza wonder. Whatever it was that bound an elf and dwarf to journey together, had to be grave indeed. That they posted a guard might not have been unusual except Larza could feel the tension of the group. This was not a guard against the casual dangers of travel. It was a guard against expected trouble.
Mordor was stirring, of that she was irrefutable proof. It was clear that the rest of Middle Earth was not ignorant of the growing threat. Larza shook her head. Her knowledge was sparse on what exactly was stirring in Mordor. Whatever it was, it chilled Larza to think of it. Such thoughts brought back the memories of the pain and fear she'd endured. She was glad that the darkness had not been unnoticed. Wrapping her cloak closer about her against the cold, Larza settled down to watch the strangers through the night. She told herself that she did so because of the threat they posted, rather than curiosity.
The watch changed as the night progressed. She watched as each member of the group took their turn guarding the others. Larza dozed lightly only occasionally, never allowing herself to sleep deeply. By the dawn came, the party roused. With the quickness born of practice, the campsite was packed away. Tracks and other evidence of the passage were professionally erased. Larza knew that within minutes, it would be as if they had never been there. The forest would once again be empty. This distressed Larza more than she cared to admit.
Something cried out that she could not let the group go. While she had watched over the sleeping group, she had felt a kinship. The mismatched group was tossed to the fates, much as she was. Loneliness sent her heart aching. It was madness to follow. To do so, would be to invite disaster. Thousands of reasons to let the group go, filled her mind. The seething mix of emotions stewing beneath her breast belied her conviction in those reasons. As the last of the party pushed off from the riverbank, hot desperation filled Larza. Heart jumping and starting, Larza found her feet following the small boats. She didn't even understand why the group had so quickly become important to her. Regardless, Larza could not let them leave. Abandoning herself to the overpowering urge to follow, such concerns ceased to matter.