Chapter 12

Their attack was swift and unconcealed. The Uruk-hai charged the small group frontally, their lust for battle and bloodshed completely unleashed now. Lurtz stayed back a bit, observing the first wave of his warriors clash with the enemy. The man called Aragorn was a superb fighter. Since the White Wizard's newly bred army had never encountered such skilled resistance, many fell before they understood that they had been bested. And the accursed Elf's bow was deadly too – not a shot missed its aim.

Enraged, the leader of the Uruk-hai turned around to look for other members of the Fellowship. It ired him that he still had no idea where and who exactly this Frodo was, although the voice of the White One in his mind kept on insisting that this Halfling was of greater importance than any of the others. But instead of another Halfling he only saw a furious dwarf whirling around like a berserker and axing down his troop.

What force makes them fight so fiercely?

It was uncanny, and it had to stop.

"Find the Halflings! Find the Halflings!" Lurtz roared, frustration distorting his face into a grimace of sheer hatred.

Maybe Uglúk's bunch has caught them already, he thought, but he did not really believe it. He would find out soon enough. Uglúk was under orders to take the Halflings to Isengard as soon as they got a hold of them, while Lurtz's group would follow later – after they had finished off the Fellowship. Only if Uglúk's men failed to catch any of these frail creatures, they would meet Lurtz's group on top of the hill.

Suddenly the unexpected, piercing blow of a horn made Uruk-hai and Fellowship alike start for a second. Both sides immediately understood that this meant trouble, and after another brief moment of hesitation and confusion, they began to storm down the slope of Amon Hen in the direction of the repeated signal, Lurtz among them.

Another man, his appearance not as lean and care-worn as the dark-haired one's. He was bravely fighting for his life and succeeding so far, felling Uruk after Uruk. These were some of Uglúk's bunch... Lurtz was getting angrier by the second. They have not caught the Halflings yet?! Then he caught a glimpse of something small and dark moving between the trees, and now he understood why the tall, blond warrior fought with so much determination.

He desperately tried to protect the Halflings. Good! Let him try and fail at last. At least two of their prey were accounted for now, as there was no hope of escape for them. They were vastly outnumbered. And as a matter of fact they did not even attempt to run, but busied themselves throwing stones at the Uruk-hai closing in on their isolated companion – a gesture which was as admirable as it was pathetic. The leader of the Uruk-hai watched them and shook his head slightly with a derisive snort that gave way to a hostile growl.

Lurtz slowed his run to an insultingly casual gait and readied his trusted longbow – his favorite weapon, while his burning fury was slowly changing into a cold, predatory desire to hurt and kill. Yes, the man was putting up a valiant fight, but this had gone too far already. Too many Uruk-hai corpses scattered the ground. He scanned them briefly. Uglúk's body was not among them, but then he trusted his lover to be smart enough to survive.

With glee Lurtz registered the disbelief in the man's eyes when the thick, black arrow pierced his left shoulder; how his face began to distort with pain after the first shock wore off. As the Uruk-hai had expected, the Man-warrior refused to give in. He scrambled back to his feet for a moment, warding off more Uruk attackers. But his punishment came fast: a second arrow flew true, burying itself the man's stomach.

Let him struggle... this one will not get away.

The leader of the Uruk-hai was unable to conceal his surprise. His eyes widened when he saw the weakening man struggle to his feet yet again – painfully slow, but determined. The Uruk warriors who thought the injured human to be easy prey paid with their lifes. An eerie and icy feeling of betrayal began to creep up in Lurtz. What was going on here? He did not like it one bit, and with a growl he notched another arrow, landing it with a sure hand between the previous two.

The two Halflings, mad with despair and great pain at the sight of their deadly wounded protector, cried out in their thin, high-pitched voices, bravely brandishing their daggers. But they were blind with grief, no longer able to offer any effective resistance, and the Uruk-hai simply swept them off the ground, effortlessly disarming their small victims. The Great Orcs left the clearing, ignoring the moribund man who did not give a single sound as his companions were carried off.

For a few seconds Lurtz and the man were alone. Slowly the Uruk-hai came closer, wishing to look the man in the eye. The dying warrior met Lurtz's arrogant glare calmly. There was sadness and despair in his grey eyes, but somehow the Uruk-hai knew that it had nothing to do with him. The man was simply waiting for the end. He was not afraid of the one who was killing him. Angrily, the Uruk-hai lifted his bow, deciding that he would aim between his enemy's eyes to put out the light in them forever.

With a contemptuous gesture he readied the bow for a final shot, not even bothering to tauten the bowstring all the way. At this distance an arrow would go right through the man's body if he used the large weapon correctly, and right now Lurtz wanted nothing more than to see another metal-tipped, black shaft enter the man's flesh and stay there to torture him with every further breath he chanced to take.

The arrow fell uselessly from the bow as Lurtz was pushed to the ground by something... someone. He was immediately on his feet again, but so was his opponent. Swords clashed as Uruk-hai and Man engaged in a fierce battle. Even when Lurtz threw his shield and pinned his attacker to a tree with it, the latter somehow managed to free himself. Enraged, the Uruk-hai caught him and flung him to the ground. A knife flashed in the man's hand and plunged into dark flesh, slicing through the Orc's thigh.

Once more Lurtz grabbed the warrior, hauled him up, first headbutting him and then sending the smaller human to the ground again, where the stunned man stayed long enough to give the Uruk-hai time to pull the knife out of his thickly muscled leg. In disgusted disbelief the ranger watched the sneering Orc lick dark blood off the knife, and with a cold shudder he became aware of the wetness of fresh, red blood in his own face, while the creature stared at him from its yellow predator eyes.

Gathering his last strength, Aragorn deflected the thrown knife with his sword and got to his feet once more; the Uruk-hai already pummeling him with his crude, heavy blade. Seeing only bloodlust and hatred in the contorted face, the man let instinct and fear guide his moves. He knew that as soon as the Uruk-hai got the upper hand and managed to disarm him, he would use teeth and claws to rip his living body apart. He could see it in those fierce eyes and hear it in the low animal noise that came from the broad chest.

Indeed Lurtz was beyond reason. It was beyond his grasp how such a small group of people could offer so much resistance, why they had not been destroyed by his warriors at once. As hard as he tried to deny it: deep inside he knew he was only a tool – Saruman's puppet – and he raged against this knowledge as much as against his opponent, who still looked so tired, as if he might falter any second now. But the man stood his ground. He fought for a purpose, and the Uruk-hai against any purpose, in doubt about his own.

Lurtz did not even blink in surprise as a smooth cut severed his right arm. He simply fought on, lunging at Aragorn. What else was there to do? When the man drove his sword through the Uruk-hai's chest, the huge body vibrated with a snarl of hatred and defiance. He relished the shocked expression in those blue eyes, growing wider with every inch that he pulled the sword deeper into his body. True, the Uruk-hai did not feel pain. In this respect Saruman had not lied. Other than that, he knew that he had been betrayed.

Through the haze of bloodlust and hatred, he felt the void opening up to swallow him.

When the sleek blade raced toward his head, he welcomed it.

The Uruk-hai had run until sunset and then all through the night. Only when the pale disc of the winter sun was high up in the sky, Lurtz's Second in Command ordered a rest. The others welcomed it, sitting down where they stood, soon greedily going through their slim food rations. While they ate, Uglúk walked over to the captives and inspected them. He roughly grabbed their chins and turned their heads. Then he pushed up their clothes to see if any bite marks or other bruises showed until they were squealing with indignation and fear. Nothing. His orders had been obeyed.

The Uruk turned away from the Hobbits, still observing them from the corner of his eye though. Their hands and feet had been securely bound for the time of their rest. One of them looked like he was on the verge of crying. His lower lip trembled. Although he gave no sound, the other Halfling noticed his distress and tried to soothe his friend, helplessly saying "Shhh, Pippin... everything will be all right," over and over again. They were both very, very frightened. The Uruk-hai could almost taste it.

Uglúk could not believe that these creatures carried something of great value – certainly not these two. His gaze left the hobbits and turned back to the East, toward Amon Hen. They would stay here until dusk, waiting for Lurtz and the rest of their band to get catch up. Uglúk selected a place with a good view of the open land in the East. There he sat down and silently devoured a small portion of dried meat. He should have been starved after their long run, but he was not. The same cold feeling of betrayal that Lurtz had experienced was spreading in his guts too, and it left little room for a meal.

Dusk fell, cold and clammy; yet nothing stirred in the East. The other Uruks could feel their Second's unrest and observed him warily, but Uglúk's temper was quite different from that of their leader. He simply continued to stare eastward, entirely oblivious of his comrades. The Hobbits too felt that something was going on, but they were glad for it, because nobody paid attention to them as long as they stayed silent. And staying silent was not too difficult, as they were fully occupied with their hurting stomachs. Every other minute the mix of Orcish alcohol and foul-tasting, dried meat that had been forced on them renewed its efforts to get out.

When night fell, Uglúk suddenly jumped up. In a flat voice he ordered the Uruk-hai to move on in the direction of Fangorn, where they would have better protection from their enemies and the despised sunlight while travelling back to Isengard. He did not have to tell them more than that. They all understood that he would return to Amon Hen alone. None of them spoke up, neither snide remarks nor words of doubt regarding the course of his actions were heard. The severely decimated group of Uruk-hai was so quiet that Uglúk began to wonder if they felt what he felt. And he asked himself if they knew what he knew, although he had to see it for himself to believe it.

Uglúk arrived at Amon Hen at dawn. He was dizzy with the lack of air, as he had run the whole night without rest. His blood sang in his ears and his breath wheezed, but it did not matter. No one was around to hear it, and if there had been, the solitary Uruk could not have cared less. His heartbeat did not slow down while he picked his way through the corpses of his brothers, who were reduced to shapeless, dark piles in the twilight of the new day. Only when he stepped closer, the glint of weapons scattered beside them and the gleam of bared fangs in dark faces revealed them for what they were: creatures defiant even in death.

Lurtz was no exception.

Uglúk did not pick up the severed head, but knelt down and almost shyly stroked the strong cheekbone. Then he sat motionless for the better part of a minute, overwhelmed with a feeling he was not supposed to know. Eventually his hand reached out once more and carefully moved the jaw, almost closing the gaping, angry mouth. In a strangely protective manner he laid down on the ground and curled himself around his lover's head, kissing the cold, yet soft lips for what seemed to be an eternity, unable to let go.

When he finally managed to struggle to his feet, it was bright day and birds chirped in the otherwise quiet forest. Uglúk took a deep breath, inhaling what was left of his lover's scent. Taking one last, close look at the battlefield where so many of his kind had lost their lives, he gave a long, wailing cry, while cold hatred began seep into his veins – the poison of the White One. He would avenge Lurtz's death. He would hunt them to the end of the world if necessary, and he would know no mercy.

He would fill the void.