Estel by chrissystriped

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A Hunt

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The arrow shot past Sharû’s face, so close that he felt the draft, he pulled his head back. Too close. But no time to think. Always moving, not thinking about how often he would come close to death until they had conquered the village. The defenders sat in the trees and they were very good with their bows.

Sharû held his shield over his head, but that made it hard to see his way. He cursed when he stumbled over a root. His comrades were to his right and left, they formed a loose circle around the village, no one should get away. Angband needed new slaves, they needed the elves alive.

Sharû carried a sword on his belt, but he had a club in his hand. Immobilise them, don’t kill them, was the order. That was easier said than done. Elves tended to fight to the death. They knew what waited for them if they got caught. They would never see their beloved wood again, once they had been led through Angband’s gates.

Sharû hated the wood. Branches everywhere that wanted to gouge his eyes out and thorns that tangled in his armour. And how was he supposed to orient himself here? He’d rather hunt in the mountains. But chamois and ibex weren’t the desired game today. He saw a movement in the corner of his eye and deflected the spear-thrust with his shield. With two quick steps he was too close for the elf to use his spear effectively again.

His first strike shattered the shaft, the second swiped the elf off his feet. A lighter strike to the head made sure that he wouldn’t rise soon again. Sharû tied him quickly and continued. The village was more important. They outnumbered the defenders three to one – the leaders always took care that the numbers were to their favour. They needed to catch the women and children before they could run away.

Sharû’s thoughts strayed to his own mother, she was pregnant again, but he pushed the thought far away. He mustn’t think now. He was a soldier, he had a mission and he couldn’t afford pity for those elves. Not now, not here. He had to harden his heart or he wouldn’t survive. The village was in sight now, a few of the leaf houses already burning, some of his comrades had been faster than him.

Sharû hurried, he didn’t want to be last, it was never good to attract attention. A boy, scarcely more than a child, ran at him with a large knife. Sharû caught his wrist and turned it until he let go of the knife. The eyes of the boy were wide with fear as he looked at him. Sharû tied his hands on his back. The boy screamed something at him, Sharû didn’t understand it, his language was too different, but he was sure that it wasn’t something nice. He cuffed him on the head.

“Shut up”, he growled and threw him to the floor.

They would pick up the prisoners later.

Sharû ran to his comrades and helped to disarm the rounded up elves and tie them together. A quick count added up to seventy adults and around twenty children from infant to almost adults. A good raid, Sharû relaxed a little. He grinned when one of his comrades groped a female’s breast. They were allowed to have their fun with the prisoners and no one wanted to miss out on that. Sharû let his gaze move over the males. One of the elves returned his gaze with hate burning in his eyes. Sharû’s grin became broader.

After a fight, when his blood was boiling, he liked a challenge. Not that a bound elf was much of a challenge, but they always fought. Sharû memorised the elf’s face. That one would be his after they set up camp. The last elves had been rounded up. Sharû shut his ears to the crying of the children. He mustn’t let it touch him. He mustn’t! Although the disappointed eyes of his mother haunted him. She wouldn’t agree with his actions. But they were the enemy and you didn’t pity your enemy. Sharû pushed a prisoner, who didn’t walk fast enough, forward.

 

Sharû leaned against a tree, the bark rough against his bare legs. The elf, who had glowered at him earlier, knelt before him, his arms tied on his back. Sharû had buried his hand in his hair, the other held a knife to his throat so he wouldn’t get ideas. Oh, it aroused him to think that the elf would have surely loved to bite him. He thrust into the warm mouth while he watched what happened closer to the fire.

Sharû didn’t like to be in the centre of attention, but he surely liked to watch. The flickering flames of the fire made it look unreal. Body parts that suddenly came into light and vanished as quickly in the shadows. The sound of flesh on flesh, moans, screams. Sharû's thrusts became faster. He tightened his grip in the slave’s hair when he made a strangled sound and tried to twist free. “Stop it!”, Sharû growled a little breathlessly. He was close.

He realised that someone watched him but he didn’t care just now. He came, buried deep in the elf’s throat. He pushed him away and leaned heavy against the tree, his heart beating wildly.

“That looked so fucking hot”, Zirkash said, he had already opened his trousers and was stroking his cock. “Let me have a go at him?”

He grinned wickedly. Sharû growled, he still had his knife in hand and moved now in front of the elf. He wouldn’t have ceded a piece of rotten meat to Zirkash.

“He’s mine”, he barked at the other orc. “Find yourself another one.”

Zirkash was his personal enemy, they hadn’t gotten along since they were children. Not to mention that he would lose face if he let someone take his loot.

“Are you sure that’s wise, Sharû?” Zirkash tucked his cock away and unsheathed his own knife. “I’m better than you.”

“You wish!” Sharû bared his teeth. If anything they were each other’s equals.

He attacked without another word. Zirkash dodged deftly, they both still wore armour. They were in enemy territory. Although this evening was given over to amusement and celebration of the successful raid they weren’t so foolish to lower their vigilance. Sharû deflected Zirkash’s knife with his arm guard, dodged a fist and punched him in the face with his left fist. Zirkash stumbled back and Sharû pursued him – at least he intended to. Suddenly there were arms that pulled him pack.

“Let go of your knives!”

Sharû obeyed his captain’s voice and stopped fighting against the orc that held him. He saw Zirkash do the same and grinned as he saw the blood running from his nose.

“Zirkash wanted to challenge me for my loot, sir”, he growled ere his enemy could tell the story differently.

“Keep your gob shut!”, Captain Brizagh barked at him. “I told all of you that I don’t want fighting for loot.” He looked around. “Where is he, the prisoner in question?”

Sharû turned his head, but the elf wasn’t where he had left him. Sharû pierced the darkness at the roots of the tree with his eyes, hoping the elf might have hidden there to get away from the fight. He gulped, Zirkash’s eyes glinted maliciously.

“Did you lose him, Sharû?”

Brizagh gave him a look that made him shut up. “We postpone the punishment until we get home. But”, he turned his eyes on Sharû, “you both are going to have to answer for the escape of a slave. Be sure of that.”

Sharû shivered.

“Let me search for him, sir. His hand were tied to his back, he can’t be far.”

Brizagh shook his head. “I can’t risk a soldier for a slave! I won’t allow you to run through the wood alone, soldier. The two of you have earned yourselves the next watch! And if I hear that you fight each other again, you’ll get more than a tanned hide, when we are back home.” Brizagh growled deep in his throat and turned around.

His men let go of Sharû and followed him.

Sharû stooped to lift his knife without letting Zirkash out of his eyes. And all this just because this asshole had wanted his prisoner. And now the elf was gone. Sharû turned to the dark wood. If he weren’t so deep in the mire he might have even been happy for him.

‘Good luck, elfling’, he thought.

He was sure that the elf would get rid of his bonds given enough time.

 

Sharû hurried through the dark corridors. His mother had been heavy with child when he had set out. Was his new little brother or sister already born? He smiled at the thought. Not, that it was the first time for him, he had four younger siblings, but it was a wonder every time. He had been loath to leave but he was a soldier, he had to go where he was sent. They'd been back only long enough for Zirkash and him to get their punishment, his back was sore under his shirt.

His comrades would be amusing themselves now with the women they were allowed as reward for the successful raid. Sharû had left as soon as he could without drawing attention. Not that he was completely averse to such amusements, but... he preferred males and then there were his mother’s words that echoed in his head when he looked a slave in the eye: ‘They are your siblings, too.’

Yes, he had still known his grandmother, he knew what she had been – and he knew, too, why his father’s body was covered in scars. Still, he mustn’t let himself be guided by this knowledge. He was an orc, he was a soldier, he had to do what he was ordered to do. Tomorrow he would be deployed to the mines again and that meant to push the slaves – without care for their wellbeing. He mustn’t let it touch him, his heart belonged to his family alone.

Sharû opened the door to the apartment of his family. It was quiet. It was the middle of the day, his father and his brothers would be at work, the younger ones at their training – they were trained from childhood to be soldiers. Still, something... Sharû left his sword in the living room and opened the door to his parent’s bed room. He smelled it immediately, the smell of baby was unmistakable. His mother looked up, the fear in her eyes turned to relief when she recognised him.

“Sharû, you are back! Do you want to say hello to your new brothers?”

She held a  bundle to her breast, another lay in the cradle next to the bed. Sharû was suddenly tense, something wasn’t right. She looked so worried.

“Twins?” Sharû licked his lips. “Is everything alright, mother?”

She shook her head. “Come over, Sharû.”

Sharû sat down at the edge of the bed and froze when he saw the pale face of his youngest brother, wispy blond hair covered his head. Sharû knew what that meant.

“Mother...”, he croaked. “Are they both...”

She shook her head. “Only him, his brother is like you and your other siblings. Sharû, I have to ask something very difficult of you and if it ever comes out, it will mean the death of all of us, but... he is my child, I can’t give him up.”

“You want me to lie.” Sharû reached out and caressed the little pink fist of his brother. “What did you tell the evaluator?”

“That I gave birth to one child only. No one must know, Sharû! Never. I beg you.”

Sharû shook his head and kissed her cheek. “Do you really think you need to ask for this? The only hard thing will be that he will be trapped in here.”

“Better than death or slavery.” She relaxed visibly. “The others... are you sure that they can keep quiet about it? Mûr is only seven.”

“I couldn’t tell him everything, of course, but he knows that it is an important secret. That he can only talk with us about it. We decided to take the risk.”

“And I’ll carry it with you.” Sharû gripped his mother’s hand tightly. “We are family, we keep together.”

A shiver ran down his spine. ‘They are your siblings, too.’ And suddenly it was true. His little brother was an elf. His fate would be that of the slaves in the mines if not for his family’s love. How could he protect the life of this little child with his own and at the same time put the whip to the backs of men that maybe were, too, born by an orc mother?

‘Enemies’, Sharû thought. ‘They are our enemies.’

And maybe that was the case with the prisoners of war, but even they... he was only two generations away from them and on his father’s side not even that.

A little wail came from the cradle and Sharû stood up to greet his second new brother. The boy looked at him with golden eyes when he lifted him up.

“Hello, little brother”, Sharû murmured and rocked him gently.

He was not in danger, he looked exactly like a little orc should. Sharû kissed his forehead and brought him to his mother so he could drink.

“I’ll look after them, both of them”, Sharû said. His mother smiled proudly at him.