Campaigning

Toren hammered in the last wooden peg to put together the grain chest he'd been paid to make. After making hundreds, if not thousands of those, he'd asked the newly married couple to stay there, because putting it together would only take a little while.

"There you go," he told them. "Ready to be filled."

"Let's hope so, yeah," said the husband.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, nothing. Forget it."

Toren could easily guess what was happening, and experience had told him not to meddle in someone else's money affairs. The drive help was stronger, however.

"I know the owner of the farm to the east," he told him. "Here, take this mallet. If you have any problems, tell him to come give it back to me, and I'll take care of those problems this once."

"No, no. There shouldn't be any problem."

"Are you sure?" Toren offered the mallet's handle, holding it by it head.

"There shouldn't." The man took the tool.