A prisoner is moved

"I shall not take orders from a... human!" The Orc spat.
"And what should you do with a prisoner here, with Dwarves and Elves sneaking around, and an invasion to run?" The leader of the Dunlendings smiled coldly. "We shall deliver her to our lord. Those are the Old Man's orders, you know. All prisoners to be delivered to him for questioning."
"Hrumph. And what tells me you are not going to take credit for the whole action? It was my boys risking their hides for this. And to top it off, they had to deal with Elves! Elves! If I find the one responsible for leaking information on the invasion, I shall have his head delivered to Sharkû in a bag!"
"I suppose you will have to trust us."
"Trust... a human? I should not steep so low." The orc gestured threateningly at the guards the Man had brught - rough brutes with pale, sickly skin, looking like half-orcs in this light. "You come here, into my fortress, and try to threaten me with orders from an old man far away. No, I have a better idea."
He walked to the chest next to his throne and took out a circlet from the coins and gems stored there.
"I shall send my own messenger to Sharkû, with proof it was us who captured the prisoner, and that it is you responsible for getting her to him. That way, we both have insurance for our part of the deal - and I'll have my men back on the front instead of guarding a cellar."
"As you wish." The deal was certainly not to the taste of the Dunlending, but he obviously had no choice. "So, where is that prisoner?"
The Orc grunted, and motioned to his guards to follow. They descended down a staircase to a small room lined with stone - it must have been used as a storage for the guard once. Two orcs guarded the door silently, looking sullen. They stepped away as their leader motioned to them to open the door.
"I instructed them to stay silent. You have to be careful with this one - it's a smart one. It's probably awake now, trying to listen in to us. Wake up, maggot," he yelled into the cell, pulling off the makeshift chains that held the door shut.
The Man peeked in and laughed. "Ha! That is the Elf warrior you were so afraid of? Why, I thought your warriors were strong enough to deal with a small girl. She seems as small as a mouse!" He stepped to the Elf lying on the floor. "Ugh, and you haven't even bothered to clean her up. If she's going to bleed all over my cart I will see that Sharkû has you clean it personally." He bent down and proceeded to rip a strip of cloth from the Elf's robe to bind her wound.
The Elf lifted her head laboriously. She seemed to be fevered, but her eyes were clear as they opened. She whispered something, and the Man flinched backwards as if stung and landed heavily on the stone floor.
The Orc roared with laughter. "It seems the Mouse still has a bite! How do you like that now, Human?"
Grumbling, the Dunlending got up from the floor. He motioned to his guards who had rapidly moved in seeing their leader struck, telling them to pull the Elf upright by her arms. The leader stepped forward to her and gagged her with the cloth. For a second, he looked like he wished to strike her, but he restrained himself. Then he ripped another strip of cloth, bound the wound on her leg and let one guard carry her up the stairs.
"I shall report about your behaviour and the invasion to the Old Man, of course. We shall both hear of him, I trust."
"Indeed we shall. And he shall commend us on the situation in the South, whereas you still have not managed to repel these..." - he spat again - "Elves from the country you are supposed to be in control of. If my boys are slower than they should be, it is only by your abandonment of duty, as they have to deal with the Elves as well as with the natives."
The Dunlending laughed. "We shall see."
The prisoner was tossed roughly onto the supply cart the Dunlendings had arrived in. The two half-orc guards sat down by her side, watching her and making sure she did not attempt any more escapes.
As the cart slowly climbed the slope towards daylight, the Elf breathed in the fresh air deeply. She could not see where she had been kept, or where she was going, but feeling the wind again lifted her morale. She tried to look up and see stars, or trees, but it was dark and the cart's torches hurt her eyes after days of darkness.
Still, she was moving again. Changes, a dangerous situation for her capturers. And perhaps... if the travel continued outside, with the wind to listen... a message to call for aid...