Now the trio moved silently across the moon-washed landscape. Even the nocturnal animals took no note of their passage and their light tread was barely to be heard above the sound of the river where it rushed over the pebbles of the shallow fords. Only Legolas travelled this route with any degree of knowledge about the terrain so it was he who was leading when they ran into the orcs.

The traveller's first awareness of them was a poorly fletched black arrow that whistled a scant inch past Legolas' left cheek. Between one heartbeat and the next the elves had drawn sword and bows and at the next beat they were assailed by a howling hoard of orcs who had been hidden behind several rocky outcrops scattered only yards from the shore.

Haradrenor leapt onto a boulder as tall as he in order to make best use of his bow. Once atop it he dropped to one knee to make a smaller target for any return fire and began to systematically down their enemy.

Whilst at Legolas' back Pethon set about proving that sometimes the sword was mightier than the pen. Legolas also made use of his bow and for some minutes the orcs were held at bay thus. But the three were greatly outnumbered and once all their arrows were spent there was no time, in the throes of a fight, to collect more. Soon Legolas had to drop his bow to draw knives and Haradrenor jumped down to add his sword arm to the fray.

And still they held their own, forming an outward facing triangle of whirling, flashing steel. But their foes were recklessly unheeding of injury or death and it is difficult to hold off an enemy that does not always bother to dodge oncoming blows. Although the orcs soon had to stamp upon the bodies of their fallen comrades to reach the smaller Mirkwood party, their numbers never seemed to diminish. The trio found themselves being forced into a tighter and tighter formation where as much effort was spent in avoiding each other's steel as in killing their enemy.

As Pethon leaned back to allow Haradrenor a decapitating swing at one orc another darted in to deeply score Pethon's arm from wrist to elbow. Were it a sharp elven blade Pethon would have felt little pain and fought on until he bled out or the contest ended. But this was an orc blade, notched and rusty, that tore at the flesh instead of cutting cleanly. With a cry of alarmed pain Pethon dropped his sword and that was all the advantage the orcs needed. They pressed forward with a roar of triumph and within moments all the elves were disarmed and face down among the stinking corpses of their enemy.

-O-

Legolas' first awareness was that he had been unaware for some unspecified length of time. His second awareness was that he was in considerable discomfort. Suspecting that he may not be alone he kept his eyes closed and his breathing even as he tried to isolate the various pains that were vying for his attention.

His head was the most insistent and he concentrated upon pushing the general pounding back until it centred upon an area around the base of his skull. From the seconds before his missing time he managed to dredge up the fleeting image of a clawed hand wielding some sort of studded club. Having solved that mystery he brought his attention to the various other aches and, with some miniscule movements, determined that he lay upon his side with his hands and feet tied together behind him.

Suddenly, Haradrenor's voice spoke nearby. "Legolas, are you awake?"

That his companion did not consider it necessary to whisper let him know it was safe to acknowledge him and Legolas blinked open his eyes. "Yes." The deeper breath required to speak made him instantly aware that orcs were not far away and he grimaced. "Pethon?"

"He is still unconscious but they have bandaged his arm at least. Why I do not know. We should all be dead."

They were all lying on the damp earthen floor of some sort of cave. A faint glow, probably from a torch, shone beyond the one opening into what appeared to be either another cave or a tunnel. It was the only illumination and it showed Legolas that the other two were restrained as he was. He tried to shuffle a little closer to the silent Pethon. "Have you any idea how long I was unconscious?"

"I was knocked out too. I'm afraid I have no idea and Pethon has not awoken yet so I suspect he will be no wiser than we."

Legolas managed to manoeuvre himself into a position where he could see Pethon's face more clearly and thus it was he that first noticed the flicker of returning awareness. "What worries me is that we are awake at all. You are right. We should be dead."

Pethon's voice was slurred. "Please tell me this is not Mandos. I am sure I could not have lived so bad a life as to deserve this." He opened slightly unfocussed silver-grey eyes.

Despite their situation Legolas gave in to the urge to smile. "It is not; although it should be."

Their voices were pitched low but there must have been a guard posted outside the entrance for at that moment half a dozen vile creatures waddled, limped or scrabbled into the chamber. All three elves wrinkled their noses as the sour smell of unwashed bodies and badly tanned leather clothing accompanied their captors. They stood at the other end of the chamber for some moments, some drooling, and Legolas began to feel like a prize cow being inspected for market.

Finally, a much taller figure pushed through the ranks. Although this creature was as ugly as the orcs it appeared more manlike and Legolas detected a degree of intelligence behind the grey eyes. It was not a combination he found reassuring. It came closer and all three elves tried not to inhale. "Which of you is the Elven King's brat?"

When none of the captives replied it shuffled even closer, the reek making Legolas want to gag. "My scout saw the grey cloak call one of you 'prince'. Which of you is it?" The scarred and scaly visage broke into an evil parody of a smile. "If you don't answer I've got lots of ways to make you squeal."

Legolas glanced aside to where he could see that Pethon was struggling to stay conscious. He had no doubt the orc would make good on its promise. Just as he opened his mouth to declare himself Pethon spoke. "I am he."

Haradrenor's voice echoed his companion. "No, I am he."

"It is I," Legolas declared. "The other two idiots are supposed to be my guards."

"I am no idiot!" Haradrenor announced a little peevishly.

"Well you do not make much of a guard either," Pethon replied.

"Enough!" the leader yelled, kicking Pethon in the stomach for good measure. "It's a good job I'm under orders to wait for word from Sharkey or you'd be jointed and hanging over a fire by now." It leered again. "That could still happen." With those words it left, its entourage turning to scuttle, waddle or limp behind.

Once they were out of sight Haradrenor and Legolas shuffled closer to their companion. Legolas tried to examine the bandaged arm. "How are you doing, Pethon? Did that creature cause you any new injury?"

Pethon grimaced. "Damned orcs. No sense of humour."

"I was right on one thing. You are an idiot," Legolas replied. Before Pethon could retaliate he turned to his other guard. "Haradrenor, do you think you could undo or tear my knots with your teeth?"

He waited while his friend manoeuvred at his back. "Maybe. Although I did not have time to clean my teeth today."

Legolas snorted. "I will take the risk." Within moments he could feel Haradrenor gnawing at the rawhide and willed himself to be patient.

"Yuck!"

"What is it?" Legolas tried to look over his shoulder to where Haradrenor was spluttering.

"These leather thongs have barely been tanned at all. They taste foul."

"You can always clean your teeth afterwards," Legolas replied. "Now chew."

"Remind me again why your father saw fit to send his only son just to deliver a message?" Pethon hissed.

"I believe he thought to teach me a lesson."

"What lesson?"

"That we must take responsibility for our own mistakes," Legolas replied as he tugged experimentally at his bonds then subsided to let Haradrenor continue chewing.

"Well, if you die as a result of his action I hope he's willing to take responsibility for that."

Legolas said nothing. If Pethon returned without him it was likely that he would be learning a lesson too; that he should not allow the King's son to die unless he died first. In his rage Thranduil would probably ensure Pethon never made another mistake this side of Mandos' halls.