[Mithalwen]

The journey, had mercifully passed in a blur, but not enough of one to totally obliterate the jolting horror of being carried by an orc. To be in such close contact with the foul creatures, bitter enemies of the Firstborn was in itself torture. Yet one evident fact penetrated Erenor's returning consciousness as the orcs arrived at their campsite - the yrch had not harmed them. The orcs had provided them with food - repulsive maybe but seeming as good as they possessed and no harm had come to their persons, nor even their possessions.

The march over,the hostages had been dumped in a group. The others seemed fairly inert, but since Erenor was concealing her own awareness it was possible the others were doing likewise. A low groan from one of her stirring companions, corrected this idea. Erenor realised the truth. She had been given a smaller measure of the drug - her original and then feigned drowsiness from her headwound had made the orcs cautious with their dose. "Excellent", she thought, "they really do not want us dead".

Her train of thought was halted by a strange sensation; she felt watched. This was ridiculous; she had been watched with more or less attention, by orcs since her capture, but this was different. She looked around her surruptitiously. Their guards were still there but with thier captives bound and seemingly unconscious, they were engrossed in the universal activities of soldiers after a long march, preparing food and fire and easing sore feet. There were sentinels about the camp but they were looking out not in.

Besides the sensation was benevolent, she felt sure that elvish eyes or at least elvish minds were seeking her. She stole glances at her fellow emissaries on either side. Though they stirred she knew it was neither of them.

Erenor opened her mind, surely if their guards had survived the orc raid, they would have come after them? Or perhaps by some blessing her earlier attempts at seeking aid from her kindred afar had not been in vain. She fixed a picture in her mind of the camp, and then visualised the still concealed weapon, wondering if she could reach it without being discovered. Any elf near and so inclined woudl be able to read her thought: she trusted the orcs had not the skill. It was a risk but one she had to take. The presence seemed strong to Erenor but as she waited for some response, her hope faded in to fear that her feeling was some cruel side effect of the drug.