Chapter 8

Lurtz had returned to the camp earlier than planned in spite of his spontaneous break for a wash. Uglúk's absence was noted, but no one dared to ask or comment on it. For now, they were content to learn that their leader's hunt had been successful, and that he was actually in a good mood. Some suspected that the other's Uruk's disappearance might be connected to that fact, but they were smart enough not to voice this suspicion.

As a matter of fact, Lurtz had enjoyed the run and craved even more physical exercise. He allowed himself two hours of rest, during which he helped himself to a generous portion of their food rations and drank some water. Then he checked his weapons over – the ones he had left behind as well as the ones he carried on him – and strode through the camp in long, powerful strides, his muscles still feeling fluid and warm from his previous run.

The camp was as organized as he had left it.

"You come with me."

With a curt gesture, he signalled two Uruk-hai to accompany him. They were Uruks of middle rank, strong-bodied and good runners, but dispensable here.

Catlike eyes shone with excitement for a moment, but they did their best to look dignified and only nodded and grunted their affirmation. After they had fastened an assortment of skinning knives to their belts and leather bags and straps to their backs, they followed their leader in due distance and respectful silence.

Lurtz briefly considered leaving his valued longbow at the camp, but then he did not plan to carry any of the meat himself. He went back with them when he could have stayed behind, sleeping with a full stomach. And there was something else: they were getting closer to war... It was bad enough that Uglúk only had his knives with him. He would not leave unprepared.

The small group of Elves heard the heavy, fast approaching footsteps maybe a second before Uglúk did, but this precious second was enough for the two men to have their bows ready. The Uruks must have smelled the Elves though, because they were not entirely unprepared.

When the first shot was released, Uglúk charged the archer with a giant leap, barely in time to affect the arrow's course. The Uruk heard it impact on something solid, but he didn't have the time to turn around and look. To his surprise his opponent had not gone down yet. For somebody of such light build the Elf was very strong and his frail-looking, reedy body tenaciously resisted Uglúk's shoving and pushing.

With a furious roar, the Uruk began to tug and tear at the Elf's chest and buried his teeth in the white shoulder and neck. His mouth began to fill with warm blood, and with an ugly sound between a gurgle and a snarl, his fangs dug deeper and deeper. His knives were forgotten. All around him was the sound and smell of living blood.

In his subconscious, Lurtz's scent registered – weak, but distinct. The Uruk doubled his efforts to bring the struggling Elf down, but only succeeded when the feeling of cold mithril between his ribs made him jump, pulling his opponent unexpectedly with him in the opposite direction. Ironically, the stab of his own dagger was the Elf's undoing.

Further enraged by the new injury, Uglúk withdrew for a second, but with his second assault he pinned the Elf to the ground, wrestled the mithril dagger from him and slashed the archer's already torn throat with his own, fine weapon.

When Uglúk looked up, it was just in time to watch Lurtz and another Uruk ripping apart the other Elf. Blood was everywhere, but some of it was black, and most of it came from Lurtz's left shoulder, where an Elven arrow was firmly implanted.

Reluctantly, the two Great Orcs let go of the bloody pulp that was no longer twitching, and Uglúk gathered himself up to join them. He looked around, trying hard not to stare at Lurtz's wound in concern. Two of their enemies were slain, and the Elven woman was nowhere to be seen.

Lurtz let his breath calm down and waited until the song of blood in his ears had subsided, then he knelt down and inspected his shoulder, cutting away the already damaged leather of his tunic with a skinning knife. The arrow, fired at such a short distance, stuck deeply in his flesh. His left arm was useless – as hard as he tried, he could not will it to move. With a snarl, he tried to pull the arrow out, only to realize that at this angle it would either come out not at all or with a whole chunk of his flesh.

Gingerly, Uglúk stepped closer. Their eyes met; Lurtz's expression as cold and impassive as could be. Uglúk sighed and sat down. Without waiting for a sign or word of consent, he probed the wound, pulling away the flesh around the arrowhead with both hands. Lurtz did not stir, but Uglúk felt narrowed eyes focussing on his unprotected throat.

"You!" Uglúk shouted to the other Uruk who was observing them from a safe distance. "Come here and pull this thing out straight, like it went in. You hear me?"

The other Uruk-hai came closer, but hesitated when he failed to interpret Lurtz's expression. Finally their leader nodded, and the Uruk obediently proceeded as the other superior one had told him. He tore out the arrow in one smooth movement. Lurtz's hot breath hit Uglúk's face with a sharp hiss. More black blood flowed from the wound and trickled over his hands, which were still firmly planted on the other's thickly muscled shoulder.

Then something incredibly fast and solid hit Uglúk's face from the left, and he landed unceremoniously and painfully on his behind. But that was nothing compared with the feeling in his jaw. Perplexedly staring at Lurtz, eyes wide with disbelief, he felt it to find out if it was broken. It was not.

"Elf bait!" Lurtz snarled, and a perfectly wicked grin spread on his broad face.

Uglúk gasped, but he could not help himself. He burst into roaring laughter, and it was then that he knew for sure that the cut in his side was only superficial.

After the third member of Lurtz's party had emerged from the dense woods with a badly scratched face, but a very satisfied, almost blissful expression, the leader of the Uruk-hai sent the two warriors that had accompanied him to get the boar. Lurtz decided to stay behind and rest. His wound was serious, and he needed time to think. A leader who was not fit to fight was no good. He was vulnerable...

Uglúk watched him. Since he had helped remove the arrow from Lurtz's shoulder, he had kept a respectful distance from his leader, and it wasn't because he was afraid of being punched again. His concern was clearly written on his face; the look on his visage odd for an Uruk-hai. He expected Lurtz to order him to return to the camp at any moment, and he knew he would obey. Surely the firstborn of the Uruk-hai did not want him around to witness his weakness?

Lurtz seemed bent on ignoring him again, but he did say nothing to send his hunting companion away. Blood still quelled from the arrow wound – slowly, but steadily. Uglúk's nostrils widenend. The scent made him restless, and he edged closer again. Lurtz's eyes narrowed, and his tenseness and the slightly bared teeth did not bode well for the other.

The smaller Uruk cocked his head inquisitively. He felt stupid, but could not help himself:

"Will you let me bind the wound?" he asked.

"If you do that, I won't be able to move the arm anymore," Lurtz replied testily.

"But you can't move it anyway...," Uglúk blurted out.

So smartarse knows... Of course! Lurtz thought. He had hoped to be able to hide the truth from the others. The other two Uruks, still enraptured about their fight with the Elves, had not realized the extent of their leader's injury. So for now it was only Uglúk, and unless he was more cunning and ruthless than Lurtz believed him to be, he was only bent on helping him. Only two days ago his life was in my hands. And now he could be at my throat if he wanted to...

Grudgingly, Lurtz took notice of the strange mix of determination and utter aloofness with which Uglúk approached him.

He has the potential to be a leader. He willingly accepts orders, but in many situations he shows initiative without asking. Smart – and fearless.

Surprising himself, Lurtz did not even bother to protest when the other tore a clean, broad strip of fabric from the less mangled Elf's tunic and stepped closer.

Dressing the wound proved to be quite a challenge. The soft, but firm fabric was ideal for the purpose, but it needed to be positioned and fixed in an awkward place. Whenever a muscle in Lurtz's back twitched, the bandage was in danger of coming off. It was always either too loose or too tight.

Giving small, frustrated growls, Uglúk tried again and again to adjust the fine, dark green material. Lurtz let him proceed, even allowing the other Uruk to lift the useless arm a bit to sling the bandage under it. The musky scent hit Uglúk's nose, and he could not suppress a sigh. A pang of lust ran through his body, as he remembered their somewhat uneasy, yet enjoyable coupling.

His eyes shot up to scan Lurtz's face. It was dark and brooding, and he did not even look at the inferior Uruk. Uglúk's gentle sound had probably passed as a sign of frustration. Fighting the unruly fabric with renewed fervor, he eventually succeeded. He took a step back, noticing a frown on Lurtz's face.

"You look confused."

"It was difficult...," Uglúk trailed off. It is difficult! his mind mocked him, while he was very much aware of more and more blood rushing into his loins. His sudden erection was painfully demanding release already, but he knew there would be none. With a considerable effort, he willed his hands to stay calmly at his sides.

Lurtz inhaled deeply and purposefully. His frown changed into the familiar grin – this damned grin of his, which was always annoyingly close to a smirk.

"I see."