Holo had found Lawrence’s side, and she tugged on his sleeve, but he did not know what to do. The alliance leaders themselves looked at a loss, and why would they not?
Lawrence, not being a member of the alliance, was able to be a bit more objective, and as he thought about it, he came to another conclusion.
There was a possibility that this was a trap set by the abbey.
If the crowd’s strange energy led them to confuse courage for profit, they might attack the procession carrying the crates.
If those crates were filled with stones, then all would be well. But if they truly held coins, what then?
The alliance would immediately be trapped.
The abbey had no obligation to show them the contents of its crates, which the alliance mob would dispute, and the argument would be a heated one. It would be easy for the abbey to then claim that the alliance was attempting to commit the unforgivable crime of trying to steal the tax funds.
Or they could simply claim that the alliance had stolen the funds en route to the king, and the conflict would then worsen as each side clung to their own story. It would be a completely fruitless dispute that might end in bloodshed, which would simply strengthen the abbey’s claims.
If the king were to resolve the dispute, he would see it as a chance to rid himself of an alliance that was trying to take control of his nation’s economy and would surely rule in favor of the abbey.
At which point, the alliance would be cornered by the abbey and would have no choice but to do as they were told.
Would they be forced to pay the abbey’s taxes and buy up its wool at a high price? In any case, the abbey would try to extort as much money as it possibly could.
But the leaders of the alliance could not say this aloud, and Lawrence knew why.
Without opening the crates, there was no way of knowing whether they contained stones or coins. The leaders feared that opposing the will of their members without proof would only serve to fracture the alliance.
Just as they had cornered the abbey and looked for a fracture to exploit, now they themselves were trapped in the very same way. But the alliance leaders had to stay neutral because they, too, were members of their alliance. Their goal was the same, and they feared division.
So what about Lawrence, who was not a member and who did not share the same goal?
Lawrence had good reasons for wanting to prevent the alliance from falling into a trap. If the abbey was trying to use the alliance and had laid this trap for them, and the alliance did indeed fall into that trap, it would put Lawrence in an exceedingly poor position.
The abbey might be thinking that if it exploited the alliance’s weakness, it could lead them about at will, but the alliance was a group of merchants, and merchants prized profit above all else.
As soon as they determined that the reward did not merit the trouble, they would simply withdraw.
Lawrence could tell that these were not the alliance’s most important dealings, given that the top-level leaders, the ones who rode around in black carriages, had long since disappeared.
Which meant that the moment it became clear the alliance had stumbled into a trap, there was a good chance they would simply settle things up and retreat. And they would probably never return.
Who would protect the abbey then?
The abbey might gain a temporary stability, but without the alliance, all it would have was sheep producing wool for which there was no longer a buyer. If the price of wool rose, Lawrence could understand this sort of optimism. Anyone would want to believe a once high price would rise again, all the more so when it was something that had always sold well in the past.
The abbey would not last long before collapsing.
What waited for them after that was the royal annexation of their lands and the dissolution of the abbey. The land would be parceled up among various nobility in order to buy their support, and Lawrence could see all too clearly the fighting that would break out over the sizes of those parcels.
When war broke out, those who lived there were always driven from the region—which meant people like Huskins.
Next to Lawrence, Holo and Col also wore uneasy expressions. Holo could defeat anyone with her teeth and claws. But the nature of that power was not one that could change these events.
Lawrence had good reason to speak to the men who were even now readying to form up and march across the snowy plains.
“The abbey may have laid a trap.” The most nervous faces of all were the ones of those who had been thinking the same thing but had held their tongues. “If we go, we’ll be playing right into their hands.”
When he added this second statement, the other merchants stopped and glared at him. “Why is that?”
“If we open the crates and they’re filled with coin, that does the alliance no good.”
“Perhaps. But it’s just as likely we’ll play into their hands by not opening the crates. We’ve done all this work and it’s come to nothing. So now we have this chance, and it’s a good one. What could it be but God’s will? If we let this chance slip, all of this will have been wasted!”
A cry of assent from the crowd followed these words. It was entirely clear who they thought was the coward and who they thought was brave. One hardly ever saw philosophers hailed as heroes, after all.
“And if we do fall into a trap, what then? We’ll just escape. We were going to leave if we couldn’t buy the land anyway, so it matters little. So why let this chance for profit escape?”
“That’s right!”
The crowd pushed forward, backing Lawrence, Holo, and Col up against a wall. Lawrence caught glimpses of the leaders, who continued to avoid reining in the angry alliance merchants.
“Wait…you’re not even with the alliance, are you?”
Lawrence felt a chill in his gut, but not because of the cold weather.
To one who lived by travel, those words inspired more terror than any wolf’s howl could. He looked around and saw only men who answered to a different authority than he did.
“You’re just trying to divide us and buy them some time.”
When accused of being a spy, it was nearly impossible to clear one’s name. The only statement they would accept from Lawrence would be him admitting that he was indeed a spy.
“So, what of it?”
A bead of sweat rolled down Lawrence’s cheek, and his vision swam. His dagger was buckled to his belt, but that was meaningless in a large group of people like this. And the instant he unsheathed it, any chance to prove his innocence would disappear.
What could he do? His mind raced.
Huskins had left everything to him, because the old sheep felt his hooves could find no purchase in the complicated human world. And now Lawrence and his companions were about to be crushed between the teeth of gears that were turning the wrong direction.
The crowd pushed closer. There was nowhere to run.
Was there truly nothing? Truly? Not even a paradox or a loophole?
Lawrence racked his brains as he tried to shield Holo and Col. If he could not reverse this situation and stop the alliance from pursuing this course of action, the ruin of the abbey would be a near certainty.
Huskins would lose the second home he had worked so hard to create, and Holo would learn yet again that there was no place for her kind in this world.
Lawrence could not stand idly by and let that happen.
If a single merchant lifted his hand, the mob would take that as a sign and attack.
It was over.
Holo put her hand to her chest as though giving up.
Was this the only place where the beings once worshipped as gods could still employ their astounding power? Lawrence hated himself for putting Holo in this painful place; he wanted to cry out.
Huskins, too, would surely put this land behind him—taking his sheep, his countless sheep with him.
“Huh—?”
The moment the avalanche was about to come crashing d
own on them, the image of a huge flock of sheep moving across the landscape filled his vision.
“Wait, please!” shouted Lawrence. “Wait! There’s a way to find out what’s in the crates!”
The instant before the explosion came, silence fell. He had driven his wedge in at the very last second.
“What’d you say?”
This was the only chance he would have to calm the raging mob. One of the leaders seemed to realize this and took the opportunity to speak. “Wait! Let’s hear him out!”
It was not overstatement to say that they were on the verge of bloodshed. Lawrence took a deep breath, exhaled, and then took another deep breath.
“A trap is useless if you don’t catch the game you’re after.”
“What do you mean?” asked another one of the leaders.
“If they’re after the alliance, all we have to do is let someone else fall into the trap. It’ll be useless then.”
“Hmph…so, are you saying you’ll go in our place?”
That line of thinking was pointless. Just as proving to the alliance he was not a spy was impossible—likewise, proving to the abbey he was not a member of the alliance would be impossible. So Lawrence shook his head.
“Well, then, who will undertake this duty?”
Lawrence was not completely confident in the idea he had come up with.
But it was Holo and her grasp on his hand that helped him regain his courage and composure. He would never have undertaken this risk if he was only acting for himself.
“The sheep.”
Everyone froze at Lawrence’s brief answer.
Then—
“Oh, of course!”
And the gears began turning the other direction.
It goes without saying that sheep are herbivores and a fine example of a gentle creature. However, just as Norah the shepherdess had once said, sheep did not know the meaning of restraint.
This was even true of Huskins, the golden sheep. Once he had made his mind up on something, he could not be dissuaded. He was unperturbed eating the flesh of his own kind to blend into the human world.
If so led by their shepherd, a flock of sheep would not stop even at the edge of a cliff. It was not uncommon for people to be badly injured if they were swept away by such a flock.
The abbey had laid a trap and depending on circumstances was prepared to spill alliance blood when they fell into it, claiming justification. But before a wave of sheep, not even a grizzled mercenary band could stand.
And Lawrence had seen the size of the merchant annex flocks for himself and knew firsthand how skilled their shepherds were.
So none had opposed his proposal.
“So that’s how it is.”
Huskins sat by the hearth like a rock gathering moss, and when Lawrence finished explaining the situation and plan, he moved very slowly.
“You want me to use sheep…to attack humans?”
“To put it simply, yes.” Holo stood disinterested at the entrance. Col had remained back in the alliance inn as a sort of hostage. “Will you lend us your strength, Mr. Huskins?”
For a plan involving sheep, there did not exist a better-suited individual.
If there was a problem at all, it would be in his pride as the golden sheep—his pride as one who had once been called a god. Those might be obstacles.
Thinking about it himself, Lawrence realized Huskins could no longer act either openly or in secret, and he had to use his ancient power in a manner that was compatible with the customs of humans.
He was not even a shadowy influence; he had been reduced to nothing but a pawn.
Truly understanding that with his heart held a different weight than the mere intellectual comprehension of it, Lawrence realized.
Lawrence himself had found it difficult the first time someone had dismissed his name, only to change their bearing entirely when they heard the name of his guild. Such moments that made him truly feel how insignificant he was and that the world was a very big place.
Huskins threw another log onto the fire, and the flames flickered brightly.
“Hah-hah…so it’s finally come to this for us, eh?”
His words made it seem as though he enjoyed having fallen so far, and they were refreshingly clear.
Having taken human form and crossed a line past which he could never return, he still had some dignity. Watching his last defenses finally crumble was somehow painful and simultaneously beautiful.
But hearing Huskins’s words, it was Holo who interjected and entered the room. “Have you forgotten just who it was who asked for my companion’s aid?”
Huskins turned his thick neck, staring at Holo as the corners of his mouth turned up.
“Holo,” Lawrence said, which made Huskins look back from Holo to him and speak, his voice cheerful.
“I don’t mind. Only a man can understand the beauty of decline, after all.”
Once he led wild sheep across grassy plains; now he tried to protect his comrades’ tiny remaining refuge. His sense of responsibility and purpose covered him like armor, hiding his true emotions. Bitterness, sadness, anger, refusal—he had to swallow them all and keep moving forward.
Huskins was his flock of sheep.
And with that one sentence, the scholarly shepherd showed that blood ran through his veins, that he was capable of appreciating wit.
It was enough to cut Holo short, who seemed to think she was being made fun of and wanted to make a retort.
Lawrence stood and lent Huskins a hand. “So you’ll help us, then?”
Huskins was slightly shorter than Lawrence, but his sturdy frame gave off an imposing air. He was a man to be reckoned with.
The curly silver hairs of his hair and beard shook as though lightning struck. In that brief instant, Lawrence got a glimpse of Huskins’s true form.
“Of course. Who but me could do it?” He picked up his shepherd’s staff, which jingled. “I thank you kindly. With this I feel I’ll finally have found a place in this new world.”
Even Lawrence could not help a pained smile at these words.
Huskins then looked at Holo and continued, “We cannot act with the freedom we once had. But…” He looked down at his hand, then finally to the fire that had finally caught the new log. “But we still have homes, and we still have roles to play. You haven’t yet seen your homeland, so don’t start weeping just yet. You’ll make this poor young man’s life very hard.”
Holo’s eyes went wide, and even through her hood, it was clear her ears had pricked up in irritation. Undoubtedly her tail was swishing rapidly, too. And yet all she could muster as Huskins left the room was a quiet murmur.
“A mere sheep, and yet—”
There were things only Holo and Huskins could comprehend. They exchanged but the briefest of looks, but from that they had come to a mutual understanding, Lawrence could tell.
Lawrence took Huskins to the alliance inn, with Holo following behind at a short remove. All who had worked in the merchants’ annex agreed that Huskins was the right choice.
Things proceeded smoothly, and in no time at all, a flock of sheep was made ready.
The monks who remained at the annex seemed confused over why the flock was being taken out at this strange hour. The sound of the sheep’s hooves as they flooded out of the pen echoed like the rumbling of an earthquake.
Lawrence and Holo held hands as they watched the lone form of Huskins recede. His staff in hand, he led the flock out.
EPILOGUE
A group of horses kicked snow up as they disappeared over the horizon.
Their destination was the main abbey, where they would witness the final battle take place.
The rider at the head kept in his bosom a powerful weapon, one that had been constructed over the night. It was sharper than any other, thanks to crucial information that Huskins had provided.
Settling things now would take no great time or effort.
Picturing the abbey leaders as they trudged along
the hard-packed snow of the road, having been driven from the abbey—well, one could not help but feel a bit sad for them.
Their decision making had been exemplary, and they had surely chosen the best option of those that remained.
If Lawrence had not pointed out the trap that had been set for the alliance, then one of the leaders would have had to. Doing so would have divided the alliance, leaving it unable to properly function.
So even if a group went out to confirm the contents of the crates, it would not have been a very large group. And that had been the goal all along, Lawrence was certain.
Piasky had been the first to disappear over the horizon and was even now surely in the grand halls of the main abbey, delivering the alliance’s proposal.
The crates had been full of stones.
Which meant that the abbey was very likely to have a secret reserve of coins hidden away, or else the possibility that it had the wolf bones was very high. Both were secrets that the abbey could ill afford having revealed to the king.
But the abbey leaders were not fools and knew when it was time to surrender. Being out of options, all they could do now was find a way to make their surrender with as much dignity as they could manage, finding a way to weather adversity and stubbornly survive as they had in the past.
Lawrence inhaled a long, thin breath of air, then exhaled. The snowy plains looked like a sea frozen in time, and walking along under the clear blue sky was not at all unpleasant.
Lawrence was alone.
He had not been surprised when Holo picked up her coat and jumped on a horse with the first group without as much as a “by your leave.” Given that the abbey, once confronted, would have no choice but to reveal its treasures, Holo’s tail was probably swishing excitedly even at this very moment.
The snowy path that Lawrence walked had been trampled by countless sheep and was as easy to walk as a street paved in stones. He reached the place called Sulieri Hill without much effort.
From there one could circle the hilltop’s crest and very clearly see the path of the road that wrapped around the hill from the northeast. There was no better vantage point from which to witness the utter failure of the abbey’s schemes.
Spice and Wolf, Vol. 10 Page 21