[Envinyatar]

The Lady's Orcs

‘She won’t like it,’ hissed Ashukh to Zlog, looking down to where the Lady sat amidst her weaving. ‘You know she hates them.’

The two Orcs were sitting on the crumbling eastern wall of Giledhel’s chamber. Near them perched a raven, his beady black eye intent on a string of shiny pearls and glittering gems the Orcs had laid out in a ragged line. He ruffled his feathers and cocked his head, listening hard. There were faint voices on the morning breeze he thought. But his eyes saw nothing near him, high atop this wall. And those shiny, shiny treasures . . . how they called to him . . .

‘Gorgu will tell her they’re the servants we’ve hired for her party. All dressed in formal black,’ Zlog watched the raven gather his courage to take a few steps toward the bait. ‘You know he’s good at calming her nerves.’

Ashukh nodded his grudging assent. He, too, eyed the nearing raven, who had since been joined on silent wings by a half score more of his companions. He was both nervous and excited at the prospect of trying what only Zlog had done before. Just let ‘em come near. he remembered Zlog saying . . . They be crafty for birds. But we be quicker. Reach out and touch him. Anywhere. Then slide right in and use the feathered devil as you want.

They could see Giledhel below, her worried face turned up to where the great birds gathered. And Gorgu, his hands patting her arm, his head nodding ‘yes’ to her questions. Finally, her face smoothed out and she smiled, waving up to them. Nodding her head from side to side slowly now, they could tell her attention had been turned to other matters and that she was considering something. As she walked to her wardrobe, they knew she would be some time thinking and rethinking her outfit once again.

Gorgu joined his companions atop the wall. There were voices now and the sound of footsteps coming through the darkened corridors below. ‘Birds getting restless,’ he said. ‘Best we take them now.’

Zlog slid under the gathered birds until he had come to the biggest one. He seemed the leader; the one from whom the others took their cue. A light touch to the bird’s neck and he was in. Gorgu and Ashukh assumed their raven bodies as well.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Outside the door to their Lady’s chambers were voices, one male, one female. There was no mistaking the face of him; the one whom Giledhel had spoken of countless times these long, long years. And the gold haired one, too! What a prize she would be for their Lady.

‘Steady now,’ Zlog croaked to his companions as well as the rest of the flock. ‘Fresh meat . . . and those that bring them down can have the eyes for treats