Spice & Wolf XIII (DWT)

by Isuna Hasekura

  Joseph is long gone now, and we’re the only ones left at the door. We’ve been forgotten. My frail master must just have been lonely. So I lick her face, and sure enough, she smiles.

  “Don’t worry, I’m also hoping for a feast!”

  So my master was actually hoping for that? That’s different. But then no one’s perfect, so I lick her chin and bark quietly in forgiveness.

  Chapter 2

  This white bread dipped in sauce is heavenly, it’s like biting into a seasoned cloud. The sliced beef is really good too. We lead simple lives, but I have high standards for food. These guys can satisfy me. But I’m not happy about the portions. I’ve already wolfed down my food, but my master notices and shares some of hers with me.

  “Not enough, huh?”

  She knows. I’m thankful for that, and rub her leg with my snout in thanks.. after I’ve wolfed her offer down, of course.

  “They’re not going to charge us for room and board.”

  She doesn’t lick the plate clean like I do, but she’s far from worried about table manners: she soaks the rest of the sauce up with her bread while smiling at me.

  “But, I hear the kitchen’s planning to switch back to buckwheat bread.”

  Her voice is tinged with spite. I sigh and lay myself down on the floor.

  “Well, it’s not like this town can afford it right now. I wouldn’t be surprised if this is the last of their good stuff.”

  I’m listening with one ear, not bothering to look up because I know her face won’t have a smile on it. I lick her foot instead.

  “Hey!”

  She’s poking me with her toes; my tongue’s too itchy, apparently. When her foot gets scratched up outdoors, we don’t always have clean water to wash it so I take it upon myself to lick her wounds. That only embarrasses her. But then, sometimes when she steps on a sharp stone, she’ll kick my face as she flinches.. she’s just that sensitive, I guess. And yet, she loves massaging my back with her feet. That’s what she’s doing right now, as she chews her last piece of bread.

  “Okay.”

  She stands up, having finished her meal.

  “Let’s go to the church, then the company.”

  She puts on her coat, then puts away her cutlery. But she hesitates and leaves her staff behind. After all, it’s fine when traveling but people in town will probably discriminate against her otherwise. Only fortune-tellers, witches, and shepherds use staves like that. I’m proud of my job, but after a while I understood why humans are so biased. My master’s human, so she has even less trouble understanding it, even if she does feel sad to put the staff away.

  “Well, it should be fine.”

  It takes a poke of her leg before she turns to me and says that with a heavy heart. She never talks about it, but one of her reasons for wanting to become a seamstress is to be her own master. I can’t blame her; everyone wants that. She’s never had anyone to talk to either, just me and the sheep. That’s why shepherds tend to smile at animals. So much so that they’re sometimes accused of being half-blood animals themselves. But such rumors only make them feel more alone, and in the end they grow to loathe towns and people too. Perhaps my master is the same now? I often wonder about that.

  “I said it’ll be fine. Come here.”

  She rubs my face, but I can tell that she’s forcing a smile. Only humans can smile like that. Well, to be honest, I can’t even smile no matter how much I force it.

  “Sorry.. I’m lying. I’m really nervous.”

  I understand. She’s never liked to be singled out. Just being treated like a guest by this inn was bad enough. And now she has to leave her staff behind and hope that she’ll be treated normally. Can she even behave like a “normal” human, though? That’s why she’s anxious.

  “But..”

  She puts on a tough expression.

  “I have to move forward.”

  The strong have their moments of weakness, but can overcome them. So I bark, and as hoped she stands up.

  * * *

  Walking these streets is like wandering through dark ruins. It’s the same even after the sun rises. Even in the center of town, most of the window shutters are closed. Only a few people are out and about, trying to walk as quietly as possible.

  I’m not sure if my master can smell it, but the stench of decay is on the wind. If you look closely, those are bones on the street corner. A fat dog sits in an alley, eying the street with hazy eyes. Fat rats are everywhere. I doubt anyone wants to think about why they’re so fat.

  Actually, I suspect my master has noticed too. She’s walking even closer to me than she did when wolves were hunting us in the forests. The only people with any energy seem to be merchants who are passing through town. They’re the kind who value money more than their own lives, so it’s no surprise they can act that way in a place with such circumstances.

  I hear something up ahead which snaps me out of it. There’s a crowd there around the church, looking lost and hoping to calm themselves somehow. Many of them are pushing their way in, though, so it doesn’t seem like calmness will come to them anytime soon.

  “There are so many people..”

  It seems my master is surprised. It will be difficult to meet with Joseph now.

  “Well, it wouldn’t be a good idea to bother him now anyway.. let’s try again later.”

  A good choice. My tail is wagging in agreement. It’ll be easy enough to get to our second destination. It’s a big town, but easy to walk around. We just ask a couple people for directions, and we’re there in no time. My master calls it a company, but it’s actually the Rowen guild.

  It’s not just goats and sheep that form herds. Humans do, too. People gather in the same place to try to do some business, which is reasonable. They’ll usually open a branch of a company in a building in each city, and use those as their bases.

  When my master gave up her job, it was this guild that helped her out. She has some ties to these people, and a letter of introduction. But it takes several long, nervous breaths before she actually goes in. In fact, she almost gave up like this when she went to quit her job, so I urge her until she walks in.

  “Oh, welcome..”

  It may be because she isn’t the kind of person they’re used to seeing here, but the person doesn’t finish their sentence. My master smiles, knowing how important first impressions are. It’s not the real smile she shows me. She’s putting on an act, but it’s good enough.

  “How can I help you?”

  The man replies softly and points at a chair.

  “This black-furred fellow’s your friend, yes?”

  He asks about me as I follow her in.

  “Oh, yes. Um..”

  “Oh, don’t worry, it’s fine. I remember you from last night. It’s dangerous to travel on your own, miss, but with a dog like that you’re better off than if you had a town guard with you.”

  He smiles, and so does my master.

  “I just had to ask because the dogs around here aren’t exactly in good standing.”

  In times of a disease like this one, corpses are everywhere. When you hear chewing at night, if you open your window you’ll probably see a dog gnawing on those bodies. That’s hardly a pleasant thought for me, let alone humans. My master pats my head as she sits down, embarrassed.

  “So, what brings a traveler like you here?”

  Merchants talk straightforwardly, which helps in such a situation. I probably wasn’t the only one thinking that. My master pulls out her letter of introduction and nervously hands it to the man. Such letters are powerful; my master didn’t have to fear quitting her job or worry about her living expenses right now, all because of that piece of paper.

  “Oh, I see.. from Ruvinheigen? That’s quite a ways away.”

  “Mr. Yikberg took good care of me.”

  “Ah, yes.. then I can’t have him upstaging me, can I?”

  He laughs, but my master’s frozen in the chair. He coughs intentionally and sits up straight.<
br />
  “Anyhow, welcome to the Gustav branch of the Rowen guild. My name’s Amon Granger-Tate. Let me offer my assistance so your memories of this trip are fond ones.”

  Merchants are great actors. My master straightens up in her chair, too, then acknowledges him politely and introduces herself. After that, they shake hands.

  “So, you wish to become a seamstress, Miss Norah?”

  “Yes.. I’ve heard that this place needs workers.”

  “Indeed. Gustav will survive this disease, and be reborn.”

  Amon’s determination makes my master smile back, but his face grows a bit concerned.

  “But I’m afraid your timing is a bit off.”

  “..what do you mean?”

  “Well, it’s great to see you here after all, and I’d like to thank you on behalf of all of us..”

  He doesn’t really want to say it, but he decides to anyway; he seems to feel obligated.

  “But while the disease is finally receding, we’re still in bad shape. The commercial industries here are all but destroyed, and need time to recover. We just don’t need new workers yet, because so many people left that we just don’t need that many people to serve who’s left.. still, people will eventually start returning, and we’ll definitely need workers then, so it’s really just your timing.”

  This is starkly different from what we heard. But that’s just the luck of the draw for travelers. My master nods while carefully listening.

  “Still.. a seamstress, was it? I’ll write a letter to the master of the tailor’s guild. It’s the least I can do.”

  He laughs again, but it’s clearly a front. He’s acting tough in the face of this disaster. My master repeatedly thanks him for the letter. She learns through observation, so she knows what has to be done.

  As we leave, we reflect on how nicely Amon treated us in spite of the town’s situation. Soon enough, the route he’s recommended leads us to the guild. An image of needles and thread is carved onto the wall, so even a dog like me could understand.

  My master is also acting brave as she knocks on the door, in spite of her bad timing. She’s rarely this brave, but unfortunately it seems there’s no one on the other side of the door.

  “No one’s here?”

  I can’t let her sad words get me too down, so I scratch my neck and yawn. She seems to take my meaning, and murmurs “alright” in disappointment. I bark, and she turns to leave, then suddenly gasps. What is it? My eyes follow hers, but I’m too late. I was careless. I’m under attack!

  I land on my back with my legs dangling toward the sky, but not for long. I’m quickly back on my feet. Only a hawk could catch me off-guard like that.. or someone who fights like one. Someone must be throwing things at me, and sure enough there’s another cylindrical object flying at me right now.

  “Enek!”

  I hear my master shout. My muscles are already tensed up, but I don’t spring away because my master is halting me. I look up at her. Master! I’m under attack!

  “Please, stop!”

  But she isn’t talking to me.

  “We’re travelers, this dog is my companion!”

  She holds me to keep me from fighting back, but that can’t stop me from barking at the foolish young woman who attacked me. Her eyes make it clear that she’s beyond reason.

  “..”

  The thin woman’s dark eyes are like muddy puddles. She stares at me from between the locks of messy red hair on her head. I just keep roaring at her, wondering what the hell her problem is. But my master holds me back and shows her the Amon’s letter. Then the woman’s eyes finally move.

  “I’m looking for the master of this guild..”

  I can’t tell if the woman’s paying any attention to her. She just blinks and leaves. My master’s unsure too, and just hugs me tighter. The woman picks up the cylindrical object and passes by us without even looking at us. She only speaks once her hand is on the door.

  “Are you the girl from last night?”

  She isn’t even trying to be polite. She’s obviously eyeing my master to evaluate her.

  “Well, coming in?”

  Her eyes show an emotion that’s difficult to describe. They look like muddy ink. It’s the kind of expression you’d see on someone clinging onto the shins of another as they walk. Disease doesn’t just claim lives, but also hope. The woman shakes her hair back and walks inside. As she disappears into the dark building, I hear her continue.

  “I am the master here.”

  I’m not sure if my master heard that, but when I look up at her it seems she might have. This woman is the one we’re looking for. More than half of the people in town are dead, it turns out, but my master still urges us to walk inside. It’s dark here, and that horrible woman is here too. But it’s actually quite tidy. The furniture is clean, and the shelves are sorted out. I finally get a good look at what hit me, and see that it’s a bolt of cloth. The woman finally reappears.

  “So. How can I help you?”

  She doesn’t even bother with introductions, so my master just hands her the letter. The woman scratches her head and walks away. Not rudely, mind you, but clearly trying to contain herself as she wobbles around. She opens the window to let in some light, but her every motion is stiff. This kind of anxiety is murder on a traveler. My master’s even more sensitive to it than I am, and her legs are trembling. A wolf’s fangs can slay a body, but human anxiety can slay their very spirit.

  “Well, well.. a seamstress!”

  “Can you help?”

  The woman whispers as my master asks her question. I’m not human, but I can understand my master. She’s afraid of being hated. Her fists are balled up tightly, trying to contain her fear. I’ve heard humans call that behaviour “solemn” and “stirring.”

  “..you can do whatever you want, basically.”

  “Please.. I have a little experience evaluating wool.. huh?”

  “I said you can do whatever you want.”

  The woman acts like she’s bored, and tosses the letter on the table in front of her. My master is speechless, and looks like a bullied puppy.

  “Well?”

  The woman sits down like a fussy old lady, and stares at the table between us as the light from the window shines on it. I can’t see what she’s set on that table, except for the end of the bolt of cloth. I guess there must be tools for making clothes on it.

  “Um, w-well..”

  My master is staring at the ground. She’s murmuring nervously as the woman glares at her. It looks like my master is going to cry, so I glare back at the woman angrily.

  “What, you want a test?”

  She sneers, and I realize why my master is hesitating. She’s trembling. She’s not afraid of wild beasts (even wolves) but the sheer hostility of this woman is making her shiver.

  “Go ahead. Cut the cloth. Spin the thread. Thread the needle. Process the fur. Dye it. There are many tests. So show me if you have the skill to become a member of our tailor’s guild led by me, Alice Winters!”

  My master can’t defend herself against such an angry and talkative woman. She’s already stepping back in defeat.

  “But then, we have no material to work with right now. Just broken buttons, threads and needles. They’re hardly good enough for testing you, so what should we do?”

  Alice isn’t laughing because she’s happy. It’s just that if she doesn’t release her tension, her chest will probably burst. I’m old enough to understand why she’s acting this way, but my master isn’t. She’s been defeated by a powerful opponent, but she’s still being brave. She doesn’t understand what’s going on.

  “I h-have some m-money-”

  My brain already knows Alice will be angry, even before my eyes see her reaction.

  “Money!? Oh right, money can buy anything, can’t it? Listen you, if it’s beautiful buttons, cloth and needles you want, you don’t need money!”

  Alice hits the table and starts to rapidly vent. My master can only curl up a
nd remain silent. I’m sorry for her, but I can’t do anything. I know why Alice is angry, and why she’s still talking.

  “Just forget the Bible and the Lord, and grab all you want from those bodies outside!”

  What a rant. Humans like to bury their bodies, in nice clothes and with luxurious gifts. They say death is the start of some eternal journey, and that taking the jewelry off those bodies is robbery. It suddenly strikes me why the room seems so tidy; it’s because it’s barren. Alice finally exhausts herself and looks down for a moment, then smiles and looks up again.

  “So you have money? Were you going to pay the guild fee first?”

  It’s an icy smile, the kind that’s like arming yourself with a sword. A creature that can look like a child more gentle than any beast can also look this frightening. It’s abnormal, and I’m worried that my master might be in danger so I tug at her clothes. Someone who’s drowning will clutch at anything, and Alice looks like she’s drowning in a river hopelessly. I wouldn’t be surprised if she tried to drag my master down by her ankles. My master seems to snap out of it as I nip her clothes, and a drop of water falls on my face. It’s salty.

  “Hey, you have money, don’t you?”

  My master steps back and unconsciously touches my head. It’s the same thing she does when we run into wolves in the dark. Even if she can’t see, even if there’s danger all around us, she doesn’t have anything to fear once she knows I’m there. But it’s a hostile person more horrible than a fang-filled wolf who’s facing us now. Alice slowly stands up, and I can tell she’s about to explode. I crouch down in response, wondering what will spark this fire. And in response, someone knocks at the door.

  “Alice! Alice Winters!”

  It’s a young man. Even birds can’t take off when they’re cornered, and Alice looks away in resentment. She sits on her chair, speechless. The knocking at the door continues, and my polite master turns away. I look at her, only able to sigh.

  “Alice, you have to be in there. Some of our purchasing funds just came in-“

  The door suddenly opens, and the man’s roaring floods the room. My master, whose hand was just on the handle, pulls it back quickly in shock.