The farm was falling to ashes now, as they rode to another contract Dreothorn was suffering a strong pain on his leg caused by a massive fall. Thayalengir didn't slowed the pace, and that made Dreothorn glad. None would feel sorry for his situacion or treat him like a weakling just because of his leg, or else they would get a halberd stuck in their heads.
"The last contract of the day." Said Thayalengir as he prepared his arrows.
"Not last, we got another one after this. Not for payment but for knowledge."
"No, I'm not wasting my time and arrows on something that should not bother us. I'm sorry pal."
"You're saying you don't want to know who is wanting all this land-workers dead?"
"Aye, I'm sorry."
"Right, let's get to our work then." Dreothorn gave a last killing-gaze to his friend. If he didn't wanted to he would, with a broken leg or not.
When they eventually reached their destination the farm was already raising smoke, this time Dreothorn stood behind while Thayalengir made the work. That would be the only time he would stop doing his rightful job because of an injury. Instead of waiting right there for his friend to leave he started to read the letter he found before they burned the past farm.
"Your foolish begs matter to me not. If thee shall not pay the dept, I shall made thee pay, farmer.
In seven nights my presence will roam your house, searching for my rightful payment. Or thee send the toll to my farm or thee shall be warg meat."
Driasd "
Now he knew the name of the one that was behind all those contracts, most surely he would live around all this farms and own wargs. There was a farm close to all the past ones that wasn't included in any contract, Dreothorn decided to investigate... Thayalengir seemed to be so very busy he surely wouldn't notice.
Before mounting he checked his leg and adjusted the bandages. While riding he thought about the reasons of why, maybe it was greediness or just pleasure of death. Then he thought about how would he be able of questioning that man. "What about a good sense-knocking." he thought, at first it seemed as a good idea but if that man wasn't the correct one then it would raise an alarm to the actual murderer.
He arrived at the farm, dismounted and looked behind him. The obscure and green forest of Fangorn's moisty breathing made Dreothorn uneasy, dark tales had been told about those woods. He inspected the horizon for some seconds more, looking at the high smoke far to the west; he also saw an unrecognizable brown dot in the distance, most probably a deer.
The door creaked as he opened it slowly, an old chair was in front of the fireplace, along with some old papers written with the exact same writing of the one that Dreothorn had. He rushed into the first room he saw just to find an old wretched man writting massive cuantities of letters, all with the same words, threats.
Dreothorn grabbed the man from the back of his clothing and dragged him outside, threw him there on the grass and was preparing to stab him when a burning arrow came flying right to Driasd head. The grouch died right there and was starting to be consumed by the embers.
He raised his head just to see another volley of arrows crash against the house, this arrows came from nowhere else but from Thay's bow, who had been following all the time. He did not seem amazed or angry by Dreothorn's decision.
And so, they continued their travels never looking back. Their daily lives ruled by just one sentence. "They pay, you obey."
