The passage through the Gap of Rohan was safe; their kind was keeping the Rohirrim busy, so they wouldn’t track down and hunt the moving company. Dunland though was another matter; the Captain knew that in the Dunlendings’ forests some of the native tribes were indifferent to them but some were hostile, he didn’t want to risk losing any soldier. Remaining in the hills for as much possible the force reached Gravenwood and passed through it, intending to get over the hills and continue North, towards the Bonevales.
They had got close to the hills when the Captain raised his head and looked around, concentrating on his sniffing abilities, the air was odd, something was there. “Stop!” he grunted and tightened his grip around the whip, his eyes darted left and right and his nose inhaled once again in his attempt to see who it was. The others, seeing that their Captain had sensed something grinned and prepared to fight. From all over the came some men, dressed in furs, with their skins covered in markings, they held bows and spears and some had javelins and swords and shields as well. They were aiming at the orcs and a man came forward, he must have been the leader, for he spoke to the Captain.
“Edrycgwch! Roedd y dynion tal y twr! (Look! The tall men of the tower!)” he said his men looked at each other uneasily. The Dunlendings didn’t seem to be more than 20, but one couldn’t tell if there were more hidden among the foliage. These ones were hidden too well after all. The orc Captain grinned with satisfaction and looked at his soldiers when one of them said in the Black Speech “Meat! Let us eat some!”. The Captain didn’t liked that and at once whipped the orc that spoke, growling, “Silence maggot!”, the smile was wiped off that orcs lips and it looked towards the men and snarled with hatred. “Beth sy'n dod â ti fan hyn, aith?” asked the leader of the men. The Captain narrowed his eyes and growled in response, “Speak properly, rat!” and gathered the whip onto his large grip. “I say, what bring you here, orc?” repeated the man, calmly, maybe more than he showed. The Captain turned back and pointed at the Tower of Orthanc that was still visible from there and growled in a low voice “Orders!”, showing that he wouldn’t say more. The men looked at each other again, more uneasily this time, fearing that their time to attack would come soon.
“Now get out of my way if you don’t want to be fed by my boys!” shouted the Captain with his low voice and violently swung his whip as an orc cheered at his words. The whip landed on the back of an orc that was three lines before him. The orc winced from the pain and fell to its knees. The Captain turned and looked at the men as he gathered his whip, his eyes narrowed, he was looking them with a slight grin, his expression was showing that he was sure that he could take them all at once and win. Some of the natives lowered their heads, others turned their aim at him, waiting for a move. “Are you deaf?” growled the Captain and raised his hand with the whip to strike again, who knows where this time. Just before his hand reached the highest position the leader of the Dunlendings spoke again, this time in their language and they moved out of the orcs’ way. The orcs now walked out of the clearing and up the hill, the men stood there and watch them till they disappeared between the rocks. The snarls and grows of the orcs didn’t scare them in the least; it was what was coming that scared them…
(Thanks to Pren for the language and view of the Dunlendings)
