There was Holo, annoyed.
“I swear, you never change.”
Though he knew Holo was right, he still could not shake his distress. Exasperated, she went to pet the bear’s neck.
“Males are fools.”
It seemed this was a female bear. Lawrence felt somewhat inferior since realizing the bathhouse, too, had become women’s territory. He tossed away the bug-eaten chestnuts, brushed off his hands, and stood up.
“Let’s start heading back.”
When Lawrence spoke, Holo gave the bear one last pat on the head and, unlike when they came, picked up and carried some of the luggage herself. It looked quite heavy on her slim physique, but she did not return to her wolf form.
As she staggered, she grasped Lawrence’s hand firmly.
“What do you think might be for dinner tonight?”
Lawrence gave a tired smile, and as he conversed with Holo about nothing but good food, they went along the forest road back home.
It was the best time of the day in the best season.
Lawrence enjoyed his trifling conversations with Holo as they walked, but he suddenly noticed that Holo’s expression had clouded over.
It was when they were almost back at the bathhouse.
“What’s wrong?”
“Mm…”
Holo was staring farther down the path in the direction of the bathhouse.
She was sniffing incessantly, her ears and tail twitching nervously.
“Did something happen at the bathhouse?”
The worst case would be a fire, but she would have turned back into a wolf by now if it was. Lawrence could hardly imagine that a thief had snuck in and was causing trouble. Neither Hanna or Selim, both of whom had stayed behind, were human, so if thieves barged in, they should be able to fight back.
Then in that case…
“Could it be—Myuri’s home?”
Lawrence grew restless as he spoke, and Holo finally gazed back at him and sneered.
“You fool. But not too far from the mark.”
Lawrence cocked his head to one side, and Holo readjusted the bags on her shoulders, speaking in a somewhat disgruntled tone.
“I do not quite know what it might be, but it smells of many beasts.”
Had a traveling animal tamer come to stay?
He wondered as they returned to the bathhouse where there was a group of about ten guests. It was rather unusual to have newcomers who not only had come out of season but did not send a message beforehand. Lawrence discovered Selim’s flustered face among the group.
The reason being…
“Uh…Everyone?”
…every single one of these off-season guests was nonhuman.
Horses, sheep, goats, cows, rabbits, birds, deer. There were even two girls who looked older than Holo and Selim, wearing the default nun outfit for traveling women.
After they all introduced themselves, they extended their greetings to Holo and Selim respectfully and even gave quite a long message to Lawrence.
But it was clear to see how genuinely pleased they seemed to be since they did not fear Holo or Selim, the wolves. The tall Deer who had been the last of the group to greet Lawrence grasped his shoulders with his large hands.
“I had been hoping to come to this bathhouse one day! A bathhouse made just for people like us!”
Lawrence’s vision was swimming. Holo looked on blankly, but the other guests were smiling and nodding in total agreement with the Deer.
“Heavens, my wishes have been fulfilled, and I am finally here. Everyone jumped at the offer to gather when I invited them. We faced much hardship on the road since we are not used to travel, but oh! How delighted we are to be here!”
The Deer embraced Lawrence heartily when he was finished.
Lawrence responded vaguely with ahs and ohs as he repeated the Deer’s words to himself.
A bathhouse made just for people like us?
“I am honored to receive such kind words, but…may I ask from whom you heard about us?”
There were some patrons who first visited on their own and invitations were not necessary to stay at the bathhouse, but most of their guests came at others’ recommendations.
Responding to Lawrence’s question was a short, rotund goat, who looked as if he ran his own liquor store.
“No one in particular, really, but it is quite well-known to us who live in the south. They say there is a hot spring land far to the north of this world, where we can escape from all conflict. That if we went, there would be a bathhouse that even we can relax in without minding the eyes of humans. And the name of that bathhouse is…”
“Spice and Wolf!”
As though planned beforehand, the rest of them chanted in unison.
There was no doubt that on their long journey, they had gathered around a fire and talked about their destination.
He knew that painfully well, and it felt as though his heart would burst with happiness.
But that was the very reason why there was something he felt terrible about.
“I see…Well, I’m very happy to welcome you after such a long journey.”
As a former merchant and as the master of the bathhouse, Lawrence first swallowed all his queries and welcomed them with the widest grin he could muster. Mentioning to Selim how tired they must be after their journey, he had her take them to their rooms.
After he watched their sudden, strange guests disappear into the bathhouse, Lawrence scratched his head lightly.
Beside him, Holo shrugged in exasperation.
“Rumors travel faster than my legs.”
“And not very accurately, either.”
Lawrence mentioned what might have happened.
The acquaintances he had made on his journey with Holo must have told fellow avatars plenty about their bathhouse. Those who heard about it in turn told their acquaintances out of novelty. Nonhumans were sometimes mixed in among their guests’ attendants. They follow their masters innocently, and many of them were trying to make it in the world, using their talents as embodiments of beasts while they lived their lives as humans. It was apparently a difficult thing to blend in with the human world, and many of them saw Holo as the very proof of hope and fortune.
He could imagine how they had exaggerated about this bathhouse.
Yet, it was too much to say that this was a bathhouse where nonhumans could relax freely.
“It’s fine since there’s no one else around this time of year…”
“’Twould be quite the trouble if they came in winter.”
The feeling of being cramped from having to conceal herself from humans in such a small bathhouse was the source of part of Holo’s discontent.
“I have my apprehensions, but we’ll let them know about the bathhouse’s situation and make sure they enjoy their time here as much as possible.”
Lawrence thought about how pleased he was to see they had come with such high expectations, but Holo stood beside him, her expression still clouded.
“Shy as usual?”
Lawrence teased Holo, and her ears and tail bristled. “Fool,” she scoffed, stomping on his foot.
Then she shamelessly clung to him.
“…’Tis beneath my dignity.”
While he was surprised she embraced him so suddenly, he hugged her back and smirked.
Certainly, it would be entirely unacceptable for the ruler of the forest to fawn on a human like a puppy before the embodiments of herbivores.
He could laugh it off as a show of vanity, but there were many rules for an eternal maiden.
“Then do you want me to fawn over you? You can keep up your appearance that way.”
Holo’s ears stood on end.
The silly wisewolf almost fell into the trap of Lawrence’s words, but she managed to avoid it in the end.
“You fool. That sounds like I am the one who is always fawning on you.”
Telling her, “But isn’t that true?” would earn him a bite.
<
br /> Lawrence slumped his shoulders, smiling, then took Holo’s hand and kissed it.
“I am indebted to you for always spending time with me.”
“Hmm.”
Holo was greatly pleased with her vassal’s show of gratitude, but they soon exchanged dry smiles and began their preparations to entertain their guests.
The name of the land of Nyohhira was almost legend in the south.
Most humans born in villages and towns never left their homes for their whole lives. Even the sailors who traveled all over the world only went from coast to coast and typically knew very little about the countries they visited.
And so, to travel for more than a month to a distant hot spring land deep in the mountains would not guarantee a safe return—it was a literal journey to the ends of the earth.
Perhaps for that very reason, once the stories reached the lands where these off-season guests lived, they were full of embellishments and exaggerations, some of which were clearly wrong.
“We sheep avatars are very proud of the stories of Ruvinheigen, the city of the Church—how Sir Lawrence and Lady Holo worked together alongside the legendary golden sheep to completely overturn the monopoly of trade that obstinate Church held over the gold.”
“I, too, have heard of your activities in the town of Lenos. I was so happy—how indignant you were over the state of the fur trade and how you invested so much money to secure the furs.”
The Deer replied to the Sheep. There was a deerskin that lay before the fire where they all sat in a circle, and Lawrence’s bottom squirmed slightly.
“My, well, it is the very original story that has moved us the most: the story of the village of Pasloe, which had forgotten their debt of gratitude and tried to attack Lady Holo, and of Sir Lawrence, who overcame the attack with true love! From what I hear, you hired mercenaries with several thousand silver, no?”
“That is incorrect. Sir Lawrence bought back the sheaf of wheat in which Lady Holo slept from an unscrupulous merchant with all his assets—”
“That’s strange, because from what I heard—”
Lawrence somehow managed to imagine which original events were causing the misunderstandings.
He simply sat there smiling wryly, but what truly worried him was Holo.
He stole a glance at her as she was just taking a sip of wine, and she looked at him as if to say, I will not be mad over this.
“Sir Lawrence, what is the truth?!”
The noisy guests, aided by alcohol and the invigoration of finishing a long journey, pushed closer to Lawrence, and he recoiled, while the two female guests sandwiched Holo beside him.
“Your story of romance with Master Lawrence has been famous for so long!”
“Is it true that the deciding factor was the luster of your tail?”
Questions that frightened him by just imagining how Holo would respond reached Lawrence’s ears.
When he turned his gaze toward her, all she did was briefly flashed a mischievous grin.
“Sir Lawrence, please stay with us until morning!”
The guests had raised their mugs in cheer many times as they sat around a pot of mushroom stew, no meat.
Lawrence talked about his journey with Holo in a way that would not crush their dreams. It was a story of a once-grand adventure, one he no longer looked back on often.
At the same time, he also enjoyed hearing the news they brought from the towns he once passed through.
What particularly surprised him when he asked who they heard these stories from was that they knew Elsa and had even made the trip to the small village where she lived with Evan, the miller. That was where the writings about the ancient era that Elsa’s father collected were located, so they must have had their own reasons to go there.
As Lawrence pondered this, someone quietly held out something before him.
It was a horse, who wore a dauntless expression among the others with kind features.
“This is for you, Sir Lawrence.”
He held a single envelope.
“What is this?”
“A letter from Lady Elsa.”
“From Elsa?”
“I had to give it to you before we drank too much.”
The Horse spoke with a hint of jest as he smiled, but there was already someone collapsed on the floor, snoring, and Selim was placing a blanket over him. Lawrence said his thanks and took the envelope.
Elsa was honest and had been working frantically for the church her father left behind. She was one they owed much to—when Lawrence could not make the last step in his relationship with Holo, she scolded them for not taking each other’s hands when they loved each other so. Though the unexpected visitors must have taken her by surprise, it was very much like her to faithfully send out a letter, and that made him happy.
“Thank you so much.”
“Oh no, this is my regular work. I cannot relax and drink while I am carrying a letter.”
The Horse grinned. He must use his quick legs as the embodiment of a horse as well. And since a courier’s work required more trust than that of a merchant, it surely seemed to match the stern-faced Horse in personality as well.
Lawrence stared at the envelope from Elsa, and a thought crossed his mind. He wondered if he could have them deliver a letter to Col and Myuri.
There had been few letters as of late, so he was not entirely sure where they were or what they were doing now. It seemed as if it would trouble many people in order to send one, so he hesitated. He thought for a moment that this Horse could quickly and reliably deliver a letter to them.
However, he did not know what Holo would say to him if he did.
Regardless, Holo must surely be in emotional turmoil during this banquet as they all spoke of the past. It was she who had wished Lawrence would quit his work as a traveling merchant and settle down in one place, yet still wondered if she was the one who crushed his dreams.
She had also been interrupted while she was relaxing, so he decided to hold back on agitating her any further.
Lawrence thought about all this and slipped Elsa’s letter, along with his request to the Horse, into his breast pocket.
“Thank you for delivering Elsa’s letter.”
The Horse smiled when Lawrence spoke, everyone around them clapped, and they began to drink again.
The lively banquet continued late into the night.
“Urgh…”
Lawrence awoke to a hideously dry throat, and found himself somewhere that was not his bedroom. There was a single large log in the fireplace before him, a weak flame clinging to it. A blanket had been placed on him up to his shoulders, and when he pushed himself up, every single one of his joints ached.
“Oh, good morning.”
Selim was just entering the hall; she carried her broom and was already back at work.
Feeling guilty, Lawrence scratched his head, and Selim beamed anxiously back at him.
“Everyone is in the baths.”
“And Holo?”
Had she gone to bed alone, she would certainly be in a terrible mood this morning.
And since there were none of Holo’s hairs on the blanket that had been placed on him, that meant she had not crawled in with him as she usually did.
At the same time, Lawrence noticed a piece of paper under the blanket. He picked it up and it read, “Seems to be quite an important letter, hmm?” in that familiar, messy handwriting. She must have meant to ask why he was sleeping with a letter from another woman in his pocket.
He thought it was a joke, since it was unlikely she would forget Elsa’s scent, but Lawrence glanced up at Selim timidly.
“Lady Holo is in the baths with them as well. Um…She took a lot of alcohol with her…”
Selim was also in charge of purchases.
From the way she spoke, it sounded as if they were drinking enough for her to cradle her head as she sat before the books.
“Oof…Okay. Thanks.”
“Certainly,” Seli
m replied, taking the blanket from Lawrence’s hands. “Would you like some water?”
Lawrence waved his hand in response to her question as she folded the blanket.
“I’m all right. I want to wash my face anyway.”
Selim was working in the stead of her foolish master, who had passed out after drinking. He could not bother her any more than this. Selim bowed her head respectfully and began cleaning the great hall.
Lawrence headed toward the kitchen as he tapped his head over his slight headache. Hanna was there, running about cooking as always. He passed through and exited to the garden where he washed his face in the well.
He could hear jubilant voices coming from the baths just a little ways away.
He wondered if he should show himself at the baths, but it would be bad if he appeared at the wrong time and they offered him a drink. And if Holo was upset, then things would not end well.
Lawrence wiped his face as he returned to the building to tidy up, but he ran into someone in the corridor. It was the Horse who had delivered the letter from Elsa.
Most men looked more dignified when lit by the firelight, and women, more charming. Though it was a common thing to be disappointed to see what these people looked like in the sunlight, the Horse seemed to be rather polished in his sternness.
Well, what made him think he looked polished was his cleanly shaven face and the well-creased clothes he wore.
“Good morning, Sir Lawrence.”
He looked more like a palace servant from a castle than someone here to bathe.
Lawrence greeted him in return, and wondering about the clothes he wore, he asked about them.
“Do you typically wear clothes like this?”
He probably did not wear these when relaxing in the baths.
“No, I am on my way to work.”
Lawrence was surprised, and the Horse looked somewhat apologetic.
“And there is something I wish to ask you, Sir Lawrence.”
“Me? What might it be?”
“Well. I was hoping you might tell me where this bathhouse is.”
The Horse pulled out an envelope from his pocket, a decorative piece of fabric held in place by a wax seal on top. Lawrence had heard that it was the culture of nobles when sending a letter to someone important, but it was his first time seeing it.
Spring Log III Page 14