The town of Ammu Khand was quiet now. It's inhabitants hurries to and fro, going about their daily business as quietly as possible. There wasn't so many as one might expect but on the other hand there were a lot more of the black armored orcs than one would have guessed from looking at the town. The shadow of the sharp mountains of Mordor, jagged compared to the rounded ones further east, loomed darker than before over the town.
Orcs patrolled the streets, stood guard at town squares and gates and the wall, and on the whole made their presence very much known and felt. Regarding the latter, there was in a sense one exception. The grim captain of the occupation force walked surprisingly quietly through the streets, the same being true about his two bodyguards.
"Inspeeection!" he barked, coming up close behind two sentries that had slackened in the shade next to the western gate.
"Huh? Chief! Nothing to report!"
"That so? Big surprise there, ain't it? Keep your eyes with you!" he growled and swatted the sentry on the helmet with his gauntlet, producing a ringing sound like a small bell.
"Aaaoh! Aye , chief!" the unfortunate orc yelled and kept shifting his gaze in confusion, wondering how his day had taken such a bad turn.
"Like our new boots, do you? the orc captain asked maliciously, and lifted his boot, with double layers of sheepskin tied to it underneath as an extra sole. "Might make our infantry be able to visit a town at night without waking up every defender within the nearest ten miles. In the meantime, you runts can focus on keeping watch instead of listening for the steps of an officer."
The inspecting captain continued his tour, leaving behind a trail of straightening and stammering guards, eyeing their surroundings nervously.
The central square proved to be more difficult to approach undetected, with open street in every direction. Something more would be required.
"Here, give me your helmet, and walk in front of me casually like you're off duty" he said to his bodyguards, lashing his own helmet to his belt. The bodyguards complied, but still were so unused to behaving "casually" when patrolling that the result came to resemble a bad actor trying to look relaxed or someone trying to falsely pretend nothing was wrong. The effect was in fact quite comical, Malthur thought, but it would have to do. They approached the town square and the chatting soldiers that did not seem to recognize them as their talking continued. One of them even waved lazily. Malthur did not recognize that one but the other two he knew were called Caillagh and Alwyn. They were coming close enough to hear the conversation.
"...bloody crafty, with those fire arrows" said the wave man in a guttural tone.
"He's a devious one, I heard he just walked in and talked himself to control of all of Durthang, all sneakiness" said Caillagh.
"No, it was one of them wraiths who put him in charge, apparently the old guy was being topped off and Malthur somehow had the quick wits to come out of that as new boss" said Alwyn.
Malthur contemplated using the same approach as previously, but on the other hand it might be useful having some in the lower ranks that did not hate you completely. Still, he would like them on their toes lest someone would came up with any unhealthy ideas for troublemaking, even if they were unlikely to be s coming from such, should we say, people "less than nimble intellectually". He would settle for a compromise here.
Malthur waited until they had passed by and just out of sight. Then he quickly changed back to his own helmet.
"You're damn right, so you better keep your eyes open so you live long enough to remain in this noble company for some more time! For I am both crafty, witty and devious!" he roared and tossed the startled debaters a half filled wineskin taken from the loot of the town.
His companions chuckled at the expressions of the confused town square sentries but the uncommonly merry gathering was interrupted by a runner hastening towards them.
"Chieftain, a company or so on foot's approaching. It looks like it might be Shagrat's raiders."
The eastern gate was a mess of excitement with babbling and shouting mingled. The Uruk guards had to wade through the commotion using the flat sides of their swords to clear a path for their captain. The exhausted foray party panted with red tongues hanging from their mouths and leaned on their knees in the merciless sun, even though it was still morning.
"Hey, Shagrat! Dug something up lately?"
The dusty orc looked up and grinned trimphantly. He gestured to his closest guards, one which was carrying a heavy sack.
"They had a shiny little hoard just waiting for us. Oh, and some dutiful workers too, not expecting us. Damn, you should have seen the look on their faces when we stormed in!"
"Good. Send your boys to the cook pots and follow me. We have some things to talk about."
Later the two orc commanders stood alone up in a watchtower. Malthur turned to face his lieutenant.
"Last time I looked, I seemed to spot a number of prisoners marching with you. Humans, it might have been. Does that ring a bell?"
"Oh, those, hehe! We decided to lighten our load on the way home. And fill our bellys at the same time. As you said we could, of course, captain."
"As I said you could, provided the journey there took longer than two weeks. Did it? For if so, you've sure been running on your way back here."
"Ah, no, but what good were they now that we had found the place? Me and my boys were getting scorched, captain! You think the path here through the cliffs has been hard? That is nothing compared to that sea of sand and rocks out there!"
"Aye, that sure must have tried your tempers, mustn't it?" The captains voice had become deceptively low. That sort of low that boded quite ill for the one addressed. But either the sun and heat or the long track had dulled Shagrats senses of immediate danger that usually were present.
The hit sent him flying across the platform of the tower and crashing into the wall behind. Shagrat crawled up with his head ringning and spitting blood. Malthur had backhanded him with his armoured hand, wearing his full armour at all times as was his habit, including the heavy gauntlets he favored.
"Be thankful, Shagrat, that killing you would seem outward as a concession towards our prisoners and undermine my authority here. As would demoting your worthless hide once we were still here. Be thankful for that whenever you feel the urge to disobey my orders again. Now get out of my sight, maggot."
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