Orc Slaying

Raven's POV

TA 2907

The signal for the archers had just passed through the ranks. The Avari demanded to be allowed to go first, right after the archers had stirred the orcs up, and Caladur had contested their demand. There was no time for that. So Esgalmith now kept his group back, waiting instead to finish off the orcs that fought through the Avarin ranks. When more and more came through he gave the signal to move forward and close the ring. I tensed, waiting for Caladur to command the knife- and sword-fighters to form a third and fourth ring. When I looked up I found Raven behind me, ready for battle. And without armour. I rounded on him "Are you mad? You cannot run into this half-naked!"

"I can"

"And what use is a back-guard who does not survive the first attack?" I snapped "Go back and put that damn armour on!"

Raven visibly braced himself "You are in no position to order me"

"Raven, stray arrows do not care for who commands who" I tried to push him back but he shied away from me like a frightened horse. Then Caladur's whistle sounded, and I could do nothing but let him come with me as he was. We struggled through thorny thickets for a moment. When sighting allowed it an occasional orc in the melee was taken out by an arrow out of the darkness.

Fighting orcs did not waste much thought on surviving. As we closed the rings the battle swiftly turned into massacre. For a long while I was only hewing, wheeling, striking, and avoiding swishing blades and axes. Raven seemed glued to my back, following each move with a swiftness that surprised me deeply. I did not see much of his style of fighting as a result, but what I saw made me dizzy. Though he held his blade two-handed he was incredibly fast.

I had been trained in times of relative peace, long before anyone had really used a blade to kill, and I still tended to see sword fighting as a kind of lethal dance. Deadly but graceful. I had learned soon enough that any real fighting against orcs lacked system and, for the most part grace. But to survive effectively some fluid motion was still needed - and some of it still recalled dancing. The way everyone found his own motions in that I had come to regard as style. And at one time or other style could become predictable. Which was deadly in a longer battle.

Raven seemed to have none of that. No move of his was predictable, at least not in a way I could yet see. Raven's anticipation of the orc's reactions was disconcerting. If he failed in that, he did not wait for an opening in the orc's defence and created one recklessly. Then he drew back when the orc thought he would attack. He switched and reversed blows, one-handed or with both hands, ducked blows that could have been countered and met others with ringing blade that I would have ducked out of. But he never did that at moments I thought he would. Or the orcs did, for that matter. He felled double the number I got. And all the while less than four orcs came ever close to make an earnest attempt to strike at my back.

I at least had armour. Glancing blows or slipped strikes could skid off the metal-enforced leather pieces. I had to admit that armour of any kind would have hindered Raven's uncanny agility and his way of mean fighting that often found him rolling on the ground or dropping down in order to swipe at feet or shins. Something someone heavily armoured had better avoid in battle as chances were he never got to his feet again.

Only few blows had actually gone through my armour slipped into its gaps. Raven had not even bothered to avoid lighter or stray swipes. It was a wonder that he was still on his feet, and now things turned really nasty. The remaining orcs, mostly steel and leather padded tall ones, gathered to sell their lives dearly. Unlike the smaller breed the large orcs tended to fight strategic rather than in relying on sheer numbers. They were harder to handle, and far stronger.

A whole head taller than Raven, and probably twice as heavy. I wished I could send him out of this. We were separated by an orc crashing between us, and the silvan elf hewing at him was in turn followed by another orc. I twisted to the side and tried to stab the stumbling orc in the back, but my blade glanced off the orc's back plate with a screeching sound.

Steel, then, not leather. With all the dirt and blood covering orcs and Elves alike by now it was hard to tell from sight. The strike was ill guided and I had to struggle for my balance as the orc turned to face me. I lost sight of Raven. The orc roared at me, baring yellow fangs, and I found myself on my knees countering a ringing blow from the notched blade of my opponent when from somewhere out of the surrounding bushes an arrow sliced into the orcs's throat. The orc let go of his scimitar and clutched at the shaft. I jerked my own blade up and drove it under the orc's breastplate, staggering to my feet and yanking the sword up in the process. The creature made a gargling sound and I kicked him aside, ripping the blade back.

This. Someone shouted my name and I whirled, catching sight of Raven who was spread-eagled on the ground, a huge orc just kicking his blade to the side and raising its own. Somebody shoot him, I thought frantically and launched myself towards the orc. One arrow glanced off the dirty armour before the dark brown arms crashed into me as the orc brought his blade down. My impact at least broke his killing strike of force though I knew I could not have turned it completely. No time. I heard Raven scream something, but could just throw myself on the ground and to the side as the orc twisted and buried his scimitar's jagged tip in the earth beside my head. He ripped it out with a roar, and slammed again. I was hindered by a slipping plate of armour and realized one of the straps holding it in place must have torn. The orc gave me no time to get up, and I twisted on the ground, desperately avoiding the slashing blade and trying to kick the orc's legs out from under him.

An arrow thudded into the ground, missing my opponent by an arm's length and me by a hand's breadth. Both of us growled in fury, though for different reasons, then out of the darkness Raven slammed into the orc's back. He was sprayed with black orc blood, mingling with his own red. He grabbed the orc's thick hair and jerking the creature's head back drew a gleaned orc knife across its throat. Blood spurted over me, and a moment later Raven was beside me and roughly pulled me to my feet. I was briefly amazed at the strength in his skinny body. He looked little better than the creature he had just killed, but there was a dark dangerous glint in his eyes that suddenly made me shiver. He brought his face close to mine and hissed "Damn you for that"

Another shrill whistle made us both flinch. There was something. Something I should notice –

Then Raven released me and whirled in the direction of the sound. Retreat. He stood rock still staring after a few retreating orcs, panting. They would gather for a last attack. orcs never fled. I could not place the look on Raven's face. I grabbed his arm and pushed him forward into the undergrowth. I heard Esgalmith shout for the scouts and the archers to follow, then the Avarin commander shouting for his own fighters to follow. Caladur's order to retreat remained. Raven was obviously considering following them, so I pushed him forward again. Caladur's fighters gathered in a small clearing beyond the bushes. The original orc-camp, I realized.

"We stay here" Caladur ordered, his tone boding ill for any objection "Hallfaron, those who can handle bows, send them to watch us. Baran's archers are all gone forward. Light a fire. Sirlim, get the healers"

After a moment of milling a fire was lit with brands taken from orcs' fires, and those who had healing skills started treating the wounded. I divested myself of the damaged armour and made my way across the resting place. People were shouting, orders for water given, and a group of Silvan Elves appeared that had not taken part in the battle. They carried water skins and some rags for binding wounds. Sirlim gave tart orders for certain herbs and salves while others scoured the neighbourhood for surviving orcs and wounded elves. Slowly, a few wounded trickled in on their own. Caladur was everywhere, demanding facts from anyone who had some to offer.

"Sirlim, how many dead?" he barked when healer passed him.

"None so far" Sirlim shot back "So keep out of my way and it will remain so"

I grinned, then caught a glance of Raven in the general uproar. He was just rising from where he had crouched on the ground to shove an insistent healer away. I hurriedly made for the pair. When the elf said something and clearly did not intend to leave the dark elf be Raven snatched his sword off the ground and pointed it at the silvan elf.

"Get your hands off me and to those that need and want your services, damn it" he snarled in Quenya. In the few days I had known Raven that was the first time he had raised his voice above speaking level. The healer looked blank. I closed the remaining distance between us and gestured for the angered healer to leave. Raven rounded on me, but at least kept his sword's point low.

"You'd have rightly been his first choice" I said angrily.

"You" Raven hissed furiously, advancing on me "You have meddled in my affairs enough! You should have let me die!"

He abruptly fell silent and turned, walking away. I grabbed his arm and jerked him back, feeling him flinch as I did so.

"A word with you" I demanded with an equally soft hiss. I tried probing with what healing skills I possessed. Something. Just a moment and I would have it -

"Let me go" Raven's voice dropped to a deadly whisper.

"Come with me now"

Raven jerked his arm free and stepped back. For a moment I was sure he would attack me. But he only stood there, panting.

"I am here" he snarled "Talk then"

We stood in the middle of people running here and there. My patience was nearing its end and Raven's absurd behaviour set me on edge "Come with me"

I turned towards the edge of the clearing. When I looked back after a few steps, Raven had not moved. For a moment I was at a loss. I was not an army commander, I was no expert in dealing with dark elves, I did not know why I bothered with this one. I strode back until I was almost nose to nose with Raven.

"Why?" I demanded "Why should I have let you die?"

Raven blinked in surprise. I thought he would answer, but then he simply looked away, turning his head to the side.

"Never mind" he said abruptly. "And do me a favour and leave me in peace"

I clenched my hands in frustration. What to do with this dark elf!

"Very well" I snapped "I will come back when you're reasonable"

Raven snorted. I went to the fire to get something to drink and find some healer to look after my wounds. Judging from the burning feeling of them most of the orcs' blades had been poisoned. I wondered how long Raven would take the pain until he wished for a healer. Beside the numerous smaller cuts he had a deep, bleeding gash from his throat to his belly, result of the killing stroke I had barely kept the orc from completing. Deep enough that the loss of blood should also affect him beside the poison, if not now, then soon. Well, I would see. Leave him to stew for a while, maybe then his temper had cooled down somewhat.

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