[Amanaduial the archer]

"Good...for I fear what I have to say will."

That wouldn't surprise me... The orc was evidently trying to hide any pleasure at what he was about to say though, and that made Koran suspicious. Koran had had little to do with the one eyed orc thus far, but from the short times in which they had been in the same tent, the Southron had felt the other's disgust. That wasn't unusual of course, but it amused Koran in a black way - usually it was the other way around.

But despite himself, the Southron captain was curious - not that he would let the orc know straight out. "I think anything from you may have that effect, Captain," he replied, every inch of his tone impecably courteous. If the orc understood the insult, he didn't let on - Koran wasn't sure a slight widening of his perpetual sneer counted as recognition. Every second that he was near the orc, all Koran could feel was is growing disgust at the orc's being. How is it that this creature and the female elf could have been of the same descent...the same creation...

"Captain, I have some things to attend to, if you will excuse me..." Koran moved to go past the orc, but Thrakmazh blocked his way with an arm. The Southron stepped back, hand moving unseen to be close to the dagger in the back of his belt, and made eye contact with the other, his eyebrows raised. "Captain?" he said curtly.

Thrakmazh paused dramatically, then whispered hashly. "It's about Herding..."

Koran didn't respond to the bait, but something in his expression must have changed, for the orc's leer grew slightly and he leant forward a little towards Koran slightly so that the Southron could feel his breath, the stench so heavy that it seemed almost tangible, assaulting Koran with it's foulness. "It's about Herding's...real intentions."

"What do you mean, orc?" Koran asked scathingly.

Thrakmazh hesitated, then continued. "You know the captain doesn't want you to succeed in this mission. He thinks you too young, too inexperienced, too foolish...vulnerable." The orc relished the word before continuing, his voice low and understated. "He told you as much, you know what I am saying is true. But...well, more than that. In his arrogance, he thinks he is sure of success when it comes down to the battle against the elves - but what if he could win a double glory? Yes, Cenbryt - what if he could have your glory as well?"

"And how exactly would be do that?" Though the question's tone was still mocking, Koran cursed himself for asking - to let on he had any interest in what the orc was saying was exactly what he had meant to be avoiding.

"Ah...Herding is older, and has fought with these men before - he's much more experienced than you, Cenbryt," Thrakmazh added nastily, including a little dig of his own against Koran in the proceedings. "They trust him, Cenbryt - they would follow him over you. Haven't you thought the same thing yourself? On the eve of the battle, he will give the signal - and overthrow you."

"Ridiculous, orc." Koran pushed past Thrakmazh roughly, actually making the orc stagger as he walked away through the trees to his tent.

"Ridiculous? I don't think so, Cenbryt!" Thrakmazh called after him, his voice now angry as he lurched to be even with Koran. Grabbing the front of the young captain's shirt, he slammed him against the nearest tree forcefully, pinning his arms. Koran, though winded, acted almost through reflex, his knee jerking up. He wasn't even sure of whether it would work for orcs, but it had some sort of effect, for Thrakmazh let go and staggered a few steps backwards. Koran's dagger was out in an instant, levelled towards the orc. "Never make the mistake of threatening one of the Cenbryt's, orc," he hissed dangerously, his eyes narrowed to slits.

"Threaten you?" Thrakmazh snorted and gave what might pass as a laugh, holding one hand to his chest as he watched Koran through one beady eye. "What does it matter to me what clan you're from, boy? When Lorien falls, my warriors can finally reap the blood of the filthy elves. Men? Why, I distrust Herding as much as I distrust you!"

Koran must have hesitated, even simply for a split second, before he sheathed his dagger and turned away. "Come, Ehan," he snapped, not awarding the orc another glance - avoiding him with his eyes as he walked away.

But something, some part of what the orc had said, had insinuated itself with him, burying itself naggingly inside his mind, appealing to the paranoia that raged inside him. But Thrakmazh knew of this, surely - all of them suffered from it, any leader in the black troops. No honour among thieves, however the saying might go. And one would not try to overthrow the other - Herding knew how much this victory meant! And he knew how foolish it would be to try to stop it for some petty dislike of his own - fear, if nothing else, would stop him conspiring.

...but hadn't the orc spoken the truth? The captain disliked him, but surely he hadn't made it that clear to just anyone - what if what the orc was saying was true?

Ridiculous.

...but all the things he had said...that Herding thought him too weak, too inexperienced, basically too young, that he would let them all down, not knowing how to lead them properly-

The orc could have guessed that himself. Probably thinks that himself.

But what if he isn't?!

And so on, the battle raged inside Koran's mind until he shook his head angrily, trying to clear it of the paranoia that grew, grown and tended from the years under the watchful vultures that were his cousins and now newly watered by Thrakmazh's words, like a maggot gnawing away at Koran's confidence. And all the time, two sets of eyes watched him: one set outward, the one good eye and one closed eye of the orc, a growing smile on his leering features from where he crouched unmoving, watching the seeds of his dissent grow in the young southron's mind; and the second in Koran's head, a pair of fair grey eyes, ageless and ancient all at once, set with knowledge and the light of the elves...