Rhavaniel had done all the preparation that she could the night before. She had eavesdropped on the Orc conversations. Enough of them favored Common Speech that she understood their news - the Men of Lake-Town, Elves of Thranduil, and Longbeard Dwarves from the Iron Hills were going to stand together against the Orcs. She knew that at least some of Thorin Oakenshield's Company were still alive, and she prayed that Kili was among them.
She had no idea how many troops Thranduil, Bard, and Dain had, but she knew Orcs and Goblins were gaining reinforcements hourly. She had even seen three divisions of Orcs that looked like they could be the dreaded Birdclaw tribe.
She had no notion of Azog's strategy, only that he led the dark forces that would take the field. She knew she would never be able to penetrate to the highest levels of Orc leadership unnoticed. She had been fortunate to blend in for the last four hours, undetected by other low ranking Orc cavalry, mounted on Wargs.
Her Warg's burns were healed, but his fur had not grow back and probably never would. Rhavaniel had plastered the bare patches on him with a sticky mix of sap, water, mashed berries and a few dead maggots. It looked raw and painful and possibly infected. It kept the other Orcs from challenging her the way they challenged each other over the strongest mounts. Her Warg was not considered an upgrade. She only had to be on the lookout for a cavalry Orc with no Warg at all. She moved further into the center of the pack to prevent that.
Her own disguise was holding up well. She sat on her Warg with enough confidence that she was not challenged by the smaller Orcs, and enough deference that none of the larger Orcs felt the need to randomly strike her. She had layers of Orc fabric over Warg, hiding her weapons that were obviously Elvish. They all assumed it covered more wounds on the beast, so no one took a closer look.
Rhavaniel had been sorely tempted to toss away her Orc gear, slip through no man's land, and join Bard's group. She knew she could not approach the Elves. Too many of the Guard knew her and the accusations leveled against her. They might shoot her on site as a traitor. She imagined any introduction to Dain's Dwarves would go over as well as her first meeting with Dwalin. Bard's tribe was the only choice, but they would see that she was young and small, and send her to the back of the formations to run supplies and tend the wounded.
If she wanted to help, then she was in the one place where she had a chance of making a significant difference. She was not ignorant when it came to the art of war, at least in theory. She had taken several years of military history in school, always with Hérion in her class. Hérion studied it because he wanted to be a Guard, like his father. Rhavaniel wanted to make weapons, and the history and utilization of weapons in war was important. She knew how cavalry would be used, and she was in a position to disrupt this one.
She studied how the Orcs assembled. Their leadership was in the front of the line, but they also had a second strong line of fierce fighters at the rear, ready to whip on any Orcs that faltered. The lines seemed to be a mix of alternating weak and strong fighters. Still, the strongest leaders were obvious by the way they carried themselves. Rhavaniel picked her targets in front and behind her carefully, so that she would know where to strike first.
The tension among the cavalry was palpable. Rhavaniel dared to take a drink from her water skin and the Orc on her right snatched it from her hand. He was much bigger than her, so she merely snarled at him. Had he been smaller, she would have had no choice but to strike him or he would have become suspicious.
The battle had been raging for at least two hours before the cavalry began to move. The leaders had them slowly move over the last foothill on the northwest, to assume a position to strike. Rhavaniel carefully kept moving forward one row at a time, to be closer to the front row and the officers. The Orcs seemed to calm down significantly now that their time to join the battle was at hand. It was the uncertainty that had unnerved them the most. Now, they had swung from fear to bloodthirsty anticipation.
Rhavaniel had guessed correctly on where the cavalry would attack. She would be able to take advantage of the fallback position she had carefully prepared the night before.
When the battlefield was finally visible to her, she was shocked. The screaming of sentient and dumb creatures, and the stench of evisceration overwhelmed her. She leaned over Warg and vomited. A few young and inexperienced Orcs did the same, so she again went unnoticed.
She shook her head, trying to clear the fog. Warg looked back at her and she patted him to let him know she was still with him, still ready.
The horns at the front of the line blared, and the Wargs began to charge. At first, they were so tight together they jostled and bumped into each other and Rhavaniel thought she might fall off and be trampled before the fight even began. But the lines spread out in a simple pattern of uniform space between riders. She would have been able to maintain her place in the formation, if that had been her intention. It was not her intention.
Rhavaniel urged Warg forward to just behind the front line of the charge. She pulled out her spiked balls and chains, that she had made for herself based on the Dwarf weapon. She let one ball drop near the ground, and began to spin it. Her first target was within reach - the cavalry leader. She let loose the long ball and chain, striking him squarely in the back of the head. The other ball flew out on its chain, catching the next rider and wrapping around his neck. The two officers came off their mounts and plowed into the ground, the rows behind them skidding to a stop and tripping over themselves.
Rhavaniel had her Orc lance ready as she darted left, while the right side of the cavalry line began to collapse in confusion. She took the second in command out with a lance through his back. Warg cut sharply through the line, slowing the other Wargs down. Rhavaniel knocked the cadence caller off his mount and Warg bit the Orc in the head as he lay on the ground. This would help prevent them getting out a new rally cry. She kept cutting left, slowing the line and forcing more Wargs and Orcs to slow or slam into each other. When she reached the outskirts of the formation, she pulled out her bow and arrows.
She was so small and nondescript, and had moved to the side so fast, no one had identified her as the traitor in their midst. She saw the rear guard leaders moving forward to see what happened and take command of the charge. She judged that there were just two she needed to take down to prevent this cavalry unit from regrouping. Two quick, easy shots and it was done. The Orcs were still plentiful, bloodthirsty, and armed but they were disorganized and leaderless. They would never complete the flanking maneuver they were ordered to make.