Spice & Wolf IV

by Isuna Hasekura

  It happened after the merchant in question had drunk too much and told all of his tales of profit.

  Once he was told of more money to be made, he was all too happy to follow the villagers into the elder’s house, only to be locked in a cell, never to escape.

  As long as none of the villagers spoke of the event, no one would ever know what happened to the merchant.

  His belongings were all sold off, and the merchant himself was offered up as a sacrifice for a good harvest.

  Strangely, rumors like these seemed to be more common around wealthier villages.

  Fortunately, it did not seem like the sort of thing that was likely to happen in Tereo.

  The room into which Lawrence and Holo were shown was quite ordinary. It was right next to the one in which Lawrence and Sem had spoken when the merchant first arrived in the village.

  The door had no lock, and it seemed that if Holo and Lawrence needed to force their way out, it would not be impossible.

  If they had to come up with a plan, this place was as good as any.

  “What do you think?” asked Lawrence.

  The two sat opposite each other on benches separated by a low table in the center of the room. He spoke softly so as not to be heard by the guard that was no doubt just outside the door.

  “I should’ve given up on looking for the book and left the vil­lage with you,” came Holo’s uncharacteristically glum reply.

  However, her face did not look especially guilty nor did it show much regret.

  She focused on one particular spot, her mind furiously working.

  “It’s not clear that would actually have changed anything. Let’s say that we came in to ask after the abbey’s location and left the same day. That would’ve been the day before yesterday. Then the news of Enberch’s poisoned wheat reaches the village today. Obviously they would assume that someone malicious mixed the poison wheat in with the good. And who do you think they would then blame? Us,” said Lawrence.

  “There are no other groups made up of a foolish merchant and a beautiful maiden. They’d soon catch us on horseback,” added Holo.

  Lawrence winced at Holo’s bitter words, but then again, break­ing down into sobs of self-recrimination was not exactly Holo’s style.

  “As soon as we set foot in this village, it was inevitable that we would be suspected of poisoning the wheat. Demons bringing calamity always come from without, after all.”

  “And there’s nothing we can say to prove our innocence.”

  Lawrence nodded.

  Whether a demon or a malicious human poisoned the wheat was irrelevant—when calamity occurred, people needed something to blame.

  It was not that demons were responsible for wrongdoing, but rather that when something bad happened, demons were blamed.

  “The circumstances are too perfect. The more I think about it, the more convinced I am that this is a move by Enberch to gain control of Tereo. Everyone in the region must be aware of the tax dispute between the two. If Tereo’s wheat suddenly turns up poisoned, Enberch is going to be the obvious suspect. Tereo has people supporting it, and those people would surely not keep silent. So Enberch needs someone else to blame. Then we just happened to show up, which gave them the perfect opportunity to execute their plan.”

  If this was all true, Lawrence had a good notion of what lay at the end of it.

  “Then when they hold their negotiations with the village, they’ll offer the condition of delayed payment so long as the vil­lagers find the person responsible.”

  Thus Enberch would both be able to convince its neighbors that this was not Enberch’s own doing and to bring Tereo under its control while Lawrence and Holo evaporated like so much dew on the executioner’s block.

  “Enberch won’t want to get in trouble with our trade guild, so they certainly won’t have a trial to determine our guilt. They’ll simply declare us guilty and execute us, promising to lower Tereo’s debt so long as the villagers of Tereo keep quiet about who we were and where we came from, and that would be that.”

  Holo sighed and bit her thumbnail. “And you’re content with that?”

  “Of course not.” Lawrence laughed and shrugged, but admit­tedly he did not know what they should do to extricate them­selves from the situation.

  “If we run, they’ll be certain to think it was us who poisoned the wheat, and if your face is then posted everywhere, you won’t be able to do business,” said Holo.

  “It would be the end of my life as a merchant, yes.”

  So what to do?

  Holo seemed to suddenly realize something and spoke. “Hm. Ah, could you not seek help with the guild you’re a member of?”

  “Help, huh. If I could do that I...ah. Hm.” Lawrence tapped on his own head. Holo peered at him uncertainly.

  “Wait—you’re here,” he finally said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Something good. If I was riding on your back, could we escape to another town faster than on horseback?”

  “Certainly.”

  “This isn’t long-distance trading, and in any case, the only thing faster than a horse is a ship. The net Enberch would throw out to catch us can only extend at the speed a horse can run. Which means—”

  Holo sniffed slightly through her nose. It was hard to know if it was a small sigh or a reply.

  “I was thinking that if I was traveling with you in the cart, we'd never be able to contact a guild house before they caught us. But if we can make it to the guild, we can get some measure of protection. If news of a guild member using poisoned wheat to do business got around, it would be a disaster—so they’ll do whatever they can to put a stop to it.

  “If the people trying to trap us are thinking similarly, they may give up the chase as soon as they see we’ve escaped.

  “However—”

  Lawrence’s pleasure at seeing a way out of the situation was short-lived; soon he saw its inevitable conclusion.

  “But after that, who do you think will be accused of being the culprit?” he asked.

  There was no need to ask. It would obviously be the person that all the villagers knew was a liar, the one who they had always regarded with suspicion and whose occupation afforded him the perfect opportunity to poison the wheat: Evan the miller.

  Holo was quick to grasp what Lawrence was getting at.

  She put on an annoyed expression. “Fine then, let him ride on my back as well. He wants to see the outside world anyway, yes? I won’t refuse him. If the girl’s in danger, put her on as well. You are absurdly softhearted, after all—honestly, the trouble I’m put through on your account...” she said, as though already having given up trying to protest.

  With Lawrence and Evan gone, Enberch would have no one to point to as the culprit.

  Not only that, but with both of them gone, Enberch would have to claim to surrounding towns that Evan was the criminal and that he had fled because he was guilty. There would be no need to go after Lawrence since doing so risked trouble with his guild.

  “The trouble, though, is that you’ll have to reveal your true form,” said Lawrence.

  Holo gave an incredulous smile, miffed at being underesti­mated. “I am not so narrow-minded as to be worried about that. ’Tis true, though...Being feared does wound my fragile heart.”

  There was a hint of accusation in Holo’s eyes, perhaps at the memory of Lawrence’s fear when he had first seen her wolf form in the sewers of Pazzio.

  But she soon bit her lower lip mischievously, flashing her fangs slightly, and said, “Or is it simply that you wish to be the only person who knows my secret?”

  At a loss for words, Lawrence cleared his throat.

  Holo chuckled throatily. “If this is what you wish to do, I do not mind.”

  It was unavoidable. He couldn’t think of another way out of the predicament. “It’s the worst-case solution, of course, but the chances of it turning out like this are very high. It would be a shame to leave behind the horse,
wagon, and cargo, but there’s nothing for it but to think of them as fallen into a deep valley.”

  “I suppose I don’t mind being your new wagon.”

  It was a clever jest.

  “Oh? I’d like to see the cart horse that holds its own reins.”

  Just as Holo flashed her invincible smile, there was a knock at the door.

  The door opened to reveal Sem.

  The crisis that the village faced seemed too heavy a burden for his aged body.

  Though it was probably an effect of the light coming from the candles that hung from the ceiling, he seemed to have become even more haggard looking.

  “Might I have a word with you?” he asked.

  It did not seem likely that he had heard Lawrence’s hushed exchange with Holo.

  After all, Holo would not have let her guard down and spoken if that was a possibility.

  “Yes, we were just hoping to speak to you,” said Lawrence.

  “Well, if you’ll excuse me,” said Sem, holding himself up on his staff and entering the room. A villager stood behind him, guard ing the door.

  Perhaps unused to the prospect of violence, the villager was obviously nervous.

  “Please close the door,” said Sem. The villager’s eyes widened in surprise, but he grudgingly did as he was told and closed the door.

  It was obvious that he believed Lawrence and Holo were guilty.

  “Well, then,” said Sem, placing the candle he held on the table. “Who exactly are you two, then?”

  He certainly got right to the point.

  Lawrence flashed his merchant’s smile. “We are nobody of note, I should say. I have already told you who I am.”

  “Yes, you have indeed told me who you are. Though I have not yet confirmed it, I do believe you.”

  Sem’s gaze moved from Lawrence to Holo.

  Holo looked down silently, her head covered by her hood.

  It almost appeared as though she were sleeping.

  “You were asking after Diendran Abbey. What business do you have there?”

  Sem had conceded that the abbey existed. This was progress.

  When Lawrence had originally inquired about the abbey’s whereabouts, Sem had pretended not to know anything about it.

  What he wanted now was to ascertain whether Lawrence and Holo were from Enberch.

  But what would he do after gaining that knowledge?

  “A person I met in Kumersun told me of the abbot of Diendran Abbey. To be precise, she did not tell me but rather my companion.”

  It was Sem’s greatest fear that Lawrence and Holo had been sent from Enberch.

  But it seemed that he did not have the patience for subtle ques­tions that would draw out the truth.

  He took a deep, wheezy breath, his eyes imploring. “Did you not come here on the orders of Enberch? If you did, how much—how much did they pay you?”

  “We did come through Enberch, but it was only one stop on our travels. It is for our own goals that we sought out Diendran Abbey.”

  “Enough lies!” shouted Sem hoarsely, leaning forward, his expression almost monstrous in the candlelight.

  “We have nothing to do with the dispute between Enberch and Tereo. I only understood the problem by putting together things I heard at your tavern, things I learned by talking to Evan and Miss Elsa, and my own experience,” said Lawrence.

  Sem feared the possibility that Lawrence and Holo were spies from Enberch.

  The poison wheat problem did not center around heresy and the Church—it was about money.

  Depending on the negotiations, the village was not necessarily doomed.

  But if the Church got involved, it would not be so simple.

  “A-are...are you truly not from Enberch?” Sem himself was probably aware that no answer they gave would fully convince him.

  But he had to ask, and Lawrence could only answer one way.

  “We are truly not.”

  Sem looked down, his face a mask of suffering, as though he had swallowed a red-hot ingot of iron. Even sitting, he had to support his body with his staff.

  He raised his head slowly. “If that is true..."

  No doubt by now Sem knew the villagers’ financial situation.

  Lawrence thought this over, and this was immediately clear that if all the wheat was returned, the village would fall into ruin.

  This meant the profit that came once every half a year—perhaps only once a year—would vanish in an instant.

  “If that is true...might you lend us your wisdom...and your money?”

  Holo moved slightly.

  She might have remembered Lawrence having to beg for loans in Ruvinheigen.

  He’d been caught in a trap and had to frantically run around borrowing money.

  At the time, he had felt like a drowning man, trying to breathe even if it meant inhaling water.

  But Lawrence was a merchant.

  “I can lend you my wisdom. However—”

  “I would not ask you to provide it free of charge,” said Sem.

  Lawrence met Sem’s keen eyes.

  He did not imagine that Tereo had much to offer him by way of compensation.

  There were only a few possibilities.

  “In exchange, I will guarantee your safety,” said Sem.

  Tereo might have been a small village, but it was a community and Sem was its leader.

  In a poor village, a merchant’s coin was powerful.

  But against the scythes and hoes of angry villagers, a merchant was helpless.

  “Is that a threat?”

  “The reason I did not simply have you bound on the spot was because you first came to greet me with wheat,” said Sem.

  He was quite adroit.

  Lawrence did not feel that arguing would improve his situation.

  Besides, he had already conferred with Holo; he knew his course of action. Cooperating with Sem would make everything easier.

  “I suppose I have no choice but to agree.”

  "..."

  “However”—Lawrence straightened up and looked Sem in the eye—“should I succeed in turning the situation around, I will ask for appropriate compensation.”

  Lawrence was neither begging for his life nor asking to be left some small portion of his own money, but rather making demands of remuneration. Sem seemed momentarily stunned but soon came to himself.

  Perhaps he thought Lawrence’s self-confidence was warranted.

  Or perhaps he simply wanted to believe as much.

  But the truth was that Lawrence lied in order to win Sem’s trust.

  He wanted to get away from this village as peaceably as possi­ble. Thus the best course of action was to wait for the messenger from Enberch to arrive, and then Lawrence would see for himself what Tereo’s fate would be.

  Assuming that Enberch wished to take control of Tereo as eas ily as possible, it was unlikely that the townspeople would have investigated whether the poisoned wheat had occurred naturally or was the result of foul play.

  They would probably leave the mystery unsolved.

  “Very well. Tell me all the details,” said Lawrence to Sem. Maybe by some miracle they could turn the situation around.

  The more of the story Lawrence heard from Sem, the worse it got.

  The contract Father Franz had negotiated with Enberch was unlike anything Lawrence had ever heard of, beginning with the stipulation that Tereo could simply name its selling price and amount when selling wheat to Enberch.

  But looking at the books that Father Franz had assembled in the church’s cellar, it was easy to imagine that he had powerful supporters somewhere.

  Bound in leather and reinforced at all four corners with iron, each volume would have cost a fortune.

  Based on the letters that Lawrence had spied on Elsa’s desk. Father Franz had been personally acquainted with the duke of a nearby border region, as well as the bishop of a very large bishopric.

  Though he was suspected of heresy time and time ag
ain, Father Franz had been able to live out his days peacefully, no doubt because of his powerful connections. Like the ropes that are woven together to create a net, the bonds between people could be a source of great strength.

  Sem claimed not to know how Father Franz had imposed the contract on Enberch, which was probably true.

  He speculated that Father Franz had learned something damaging about Duke Badon, the ruler of Enberch, which seemed likely.

  Father Franz had certainly been a remarkable man.

  However, this was no time to waste breath singing the praises of the deceased.

  If Lawrence could find a way to solve the village’s problem, it would be good business for him, so he wanted to give the matter serious thought.

  The extravagance with which the villagers squandered Father Franz’s legacy was nothing short of tragic.

  Even if Lawrence were to hand over all his gold and silver in the village’s name, the money would make little difference.

  It was clear that if all the wheat was returned, the village would be ruined.

  But nothing would come from such thoughts. Lawrence offered t he only possibility he could think of.

  “Properly speaking, Enberch will want to purchase wheat from next year’s harvest to make up for whatever they’re left owing now.”

  “...Which means?”

  “It means that they’ll set a price now for the purchase of all the wheat from your fields next year.”

  Sem did not even understand the idea of green harvesting—it was obvious how long the village had been free of worry.

  “I-if that is possible, then we would have a reprieve, for the nonce—”

  “But the buying party has the advantage. As they are paying for something that does not yet exist, it is only favorable to them if they’re given a significant discount. And once the price is agreed upon, no matter how large the harvest, you must still sell it all at that price.”

  “B-but that’s absurd.”

  “So even if next year’s harvest is as abundant as this year’s, your income will drop so you will have to speculatively sell wheat from the following year to make up the difference, which means your third year’s income will be even lower. They may even take advantage of your weakness to cancel the deal in case of a poor harvest. I’m sure you understand what would happen after that.”