Wolf & Parchment, Volume 1

by Isuna Hasekura

  Was it money? Authority? Importance?

  God would not punish Col if he used Hyland’s influence, as well as Lawrence and Holo’s connections.

  The helper boy wove through the crowd and entered the office, and he returned before long.

  “Everyone came rather suddenly, so they will be processing the large volume of requests now.”

  He could not blame them. It was due to all this commotion.

  “Then we shall gather people and tools.” The priest-in-training declared his intentions before continuing on. “Shall we handle the payments?”

  “We will take care of all your expenses, Sir Col.”

  “You have my thanks,” Col replied, then signaled to Myuri with his eyes and left the packed building.

  It was just as clamorous outside, but without a roof, the supply of air seemed infinite.

  “Wow, Brother, did you hear that?”

  Once outside, that was the first thing Myuri said.

  “They said they’ll foot the bill. So you don’t need to worry about your savings.”

  “We are not going shopping for food.”

  “Aw, why?”

  “Footing the bill is a sign of respect. We should act in a way that is deserving of that respect. If we constantly demand payment for street food, what do you expect they’ll think of us?”

  “Um…That we’re hungry…”

  “…”

  He sensed something like a headache coming on and simply walked forward for the moment.

  “Moderation is not simply cutting down on amounts. It is a moral duty to control yourself so that you are not steered by your whims—what you want to eat, drink, or buy,” he said. He also suddenly hit upon the difference between moderation and stinginess. “And so being a miser is not regulating yourself, but being especially absorbed in gaining any sort of thing—in this case, coin. Do you understand?”

  He heard once that sermons were meant for the enlightenment of oneself as well as the people, but this was the first time he saw how firsthand.

  “Kind of, I think…”

  Myuri caught up to his side and seemed even more displeased.

  “So you can’t gain anything from moderation, right? So why do it?”

  “Ah.”

  This was not one of the questions she asked knowing it would catch him off-balance. He knew immediately when she was simply expressing doubt. Yet her very straightforward query had incredible depth to it.

  Why? For what reason?

  Legitimate-sounding responses reached the tip of his tongue, but they all felt wrong.

  As he walked deep in thought, a wagon nearly ran him over. The one who grabbed his sleeve and used all her weight to pull him back was none other than Myuri.

  “Brother, you dummy!”

  “I’m sorry.”

  However, he was not apologizing about the cart. He was sorry for his inability to answer her simple question.

  The importance of moderation was, of course, promoted in the scripture, as well as taught as a virtue, but many things that were considered good were not written there. When he considered why temperance was right, he got the sense that a reason did not exist.

  If it did, then there was only one.

  “Because, perhaps, it just seems like it’s the right thing to do.”

  Myuri regarded him with a dubious expression.

  “I’m sure some people cannot stand it, but even they most likely understand the goodness of moderation itself.”

  “…”

  He asked himself again, ignoring Myuri as her dubious expression shifted to a worried one.

  Perhaps it was wrong to simply pursue an idea on the basis that it was a given.

  He had a feeling there was an ancient philosopher who had proclaimed that goodness was defined as what was natural.

  “However, if that were the case, what would become of vowing abstinence…?”

  A marriage was cause for celebration, but priests encouraged suppression of the natural desire that came with it.

  Was being free of want natural?

  Who would agree that abstinence was natural?

  “Hmm…”

  When one questions all that they have accepted as normal, they may find once unthinkable things lying in wait on the path ahead of them. As he stood in the street, pondering, someone pulled on his sleeve.

  There was Myuri, looking ready to cry.

  “Brother…I won’t be so selfish anymore, so please forgive me…”

  “What?” he replied, and she frantically clung to him. He did not know what she had been saying to him, but she seemed to think the way he had stopped and stood still was a reaction to her desire to shop for food. He looked down at Myuri holding him, and a thought flickered across his mind.

  Maybe next time she would grab his hand.

  “Oh, I was just thinking too much,” he said and placed his hand on Myuri’s head, ruffling her hair to calm her down. But due to her unexpected question, his mind ran in circles like a bird that could not find a tree to land on.

  Despite his restless, vague discomfort, he was a bit excited to see where the bird would go.

  The town was divided into districts with the square in the center, so anyone who became lost could simply find the bell tower that was visible from anywhere and head to the plaza. The layout was impressively logical.

  Col walked, Myuri was in tow and no longer appealing for food, and they made their way toward the craftsmen’s district. Appropriate for the port town that Atiph was, there were a great many woodworking studios. And under the eaves of a workshop that cut and whittled, thick black tree resin was being brushed onto lumber. Col thought that Myuri, who had hidden in a barrel meant for that resin, would frown at the familiar smell, but she watched the work intensely.

  “So that’s how they use it.”

  “They apparently use it for waterproofing and to protect against mold. When trading vessels go to distant lands, or ships go off to war, they use it for packaging meat so it doesn’t go bad.”

  “Huh. It has a smoky scent, so maybe it would taste good.”

  I see, it depends on your perspective, he thought.

  They continued farther down before arriving at an area that worked with furs. In the open-air first-floor workshops, there were artisans working on each stage of tanning the hides and crafting leather cord.

  There was a neat line of warm-looking ermine furs, and he wondered which nobles would buy them.

  As they continued, they arrived at a shop that had a giant cow hide hanging on the wall facing the street, which the owner must have been using in place of a sign.

  “Is that what they used for the map?”

  Myuri sniffed the hide, and a man fiddling with the handle of a razor in the workshop noticed them.

  “Do you need somethin’?”

  Myuri whispered to Col, “We could probably sell his fur,” and he had to suppress his smile. The fellow was indeed a hairy craftsman, big both sideways and lengthways, a complete bear of a man.

  “You don’t often see a young priest and an errand boy from the Debau Company together. Are you looking for something to write on?”

  Col jabbed the mischievous Myuri in the head and cleared his throat before speaking.

  “I need scrap paper, ink, parchment, and talc.”

  He would grate the talc and then rub it into the uneven parchment in order to flatten it.

  “All right, leave it to me!…is what I want to say, but we just got a large order for parchment yesterday, so we’re in the middle of making more now.”

  The crafts-bear shrugged his shoulders, reached out to the parchment on the worktable, and waved it.

  “I need to make five sheets out of this. Your average craftsman can get about three, though.”

  He casually boasted about his skill, but five sheets was rather impressive. Parchment was made from the hide of animals, so unlike paper made from old rags, how thinly it could be cut depended on the maker’s skill.
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  “Are other workshops also busy with similar orders?” Col asked, and the crafts-bear stared at him blankly before bursting out into laughter.

  “You must be from a big city. The only ones that deal in parchment and stationery around here are our workshop and our group. This ain’t the kind of town with thousands of notaries constantly ordering parchment.”

  “I see…”

  If so, then what happened?

  He groaned, and the crafts-bear seemed to have suddenly realized something.

  “Wait, now that you mention it, that order from yesterday was supposed to be delivered to the Debau Company.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, that’s right. Now I remember. A whole troupe of nicely dressed folk came and asked for all the paper we had…I was so happy we sold out of parchment that I forgot.”

  At the news that a well-dressed group had asked for all the paper they had to be delivered to the Debau Company, Col could only think of one possibility.

  As it crossed his mind, a thin old man with a white beard, the exact opposite of the bearlike craftsman, appeared from inside the shop.

  “Oh, customers, I see.”

  “Oh, Old Boss, who was it that made that big order yesterday?”

  “Ah? Your brain can only ever think about how fine you can slice leather, eh? You’ll never be able to do business like that. The request was from a noble from the Kingdom of Winfiel.”

  So it was Hyland.

  “Really? What’s an island noble doing here?”

  “Geez…Haven’t I told you to go show up at association meetings? Their kingdom and the Church are in a dispute over tithes, remember? The kingdom thinks those taxes are absurd, and that nobleman is their spokesman. He’s come to convince Atiph’s Church that they should work together. And it appears he wants to make nice with the townspeople first, so he’s having meetings with every association. That’s where I’ve been all morning.”

  “Oh. Huh…”

  The crafts-bear was clearly not interested, as he was glancing down at his razor. Watching them, Col empathized more with the old bearded man.

  “Huh? Is that all you have to say? Idiot. If that nobleman succeeds, we won’t have to pay taxes to the Church anymore.”

  “Oh, that’d be great. They always say the pope’s feasts are extravagant. It would be nice if we didn’t have to pay for their luxuries.”

  It was a coarse way of saying it, but what the crafts-bear said was likely exactly how the townspeople felt.

  “But what does that have to do with the order?”

  As he stroked the blade of the razor, the old bearded man thumped him on the head without hesitation. There was a solid thud.

  Then, the old man turned to face them, squinting as if they were shining bright.

  “If you’ve brought along a boy from the Debau Company, does that mean you’ve come to help that nobleman?”

  “Ah, yes.”

  “My, I’ve known about the kingdom for a long time, but today I learned so much at the meeting. Especially that Heir Hyland is such a wonderful person. He dreams up ideas I could never imagine,” the old man said. He shook Col’s hand and took the opportunity to grasp Myuri’s hand as well, bowing deeply.

  “Us lowly people honestly never thought either side, whether the Church or the kingdom, had anything to do with us. But I never imagined that the scripture would be translated into the common language nor that we would be asked to look directly upon the words of God! Oh, what a wonderful thing this is.”

  As the old man spoke, he began to choke up.

  “Pardon me…At any rate, though we’ve had enough of the pope and the Church’s luxury and lack of restraint, we’re not in a place to fight back. This is a port town. Only God knows if there will be an accident at sea. If we were ordered to cease all religious activities, the root of life in this town would wither away. Ordinary courage is not enough to send ships into the pitch-black sea to be ravaged by the cold winds of winter. And accidents never stop. If you live in this town, you will most certainly have someone who works with the sea in your family.”

  After negotiations with the cathedra in Lenos failed, there was more than enough reason to switch over to Atiph instead. The locals bestowed upon ships the name of saints and carved images of the Holy Mother or icons of angels onto the bows for protection on their voyages. Anyone who saw the haul of cod and herring caught in the port could understand they had a great number of fishermen. In addition, this was not like the warm, mild seaside towns in the southlands. Beyond this town was a frigid, gray sea, where there was no chance of survival for people who fell off a boat.

  “It is truly an honor for us to assist directly. As you can see, I’m already so old, and this bear can only be relied upon for his skills.”

  Apparently, everyone looked at the craftsman and saw a bear. Myuri lowered her head, trying to suppress her laugh.

  “We’ve got scribe friends that we’ve already talked to, so leave the copies to us. As soon as you make progress on your translation, we’ll make more and more of them, and we’ll let everyone know how ridiculous the Church is!”

  This old man and the townspeople had no reason to doubt the protection of God. They were simply dissatisfied with the corrupt practices of the Church’s inner circle, who were God’s representative on earth.

  Col once again recognized that what the Kingdom of Winfiel was doing was not barbaric, but necessary.

  The world he believed in lay just beyond this.

  God’s true teachings were what Hyland was aiming for.

  “Let us work hard together,” he said, gripping the old man’s hand in return.

  “Myuri, have you now come to understand how amazing Heir Hyland is?”

  He posed his question to Myuri on their way back from the workshop, and she nodded, albeit reluctantly.

  For the rest of the day, they walked around town for a little bit. They spent some time looking at the city walls under construction and the gray sea from a hill before returning to the trading house.

  That night, they were invited to a dinner that Stefan presided over with Hyland as the guest of honor, and they discussed things that were neither good nor bad. However, as Col watched the goings-on at the supper, he sensed something other than flattery in Stefan’s courteousness toward Hyland.

  “Perhaps. Speaking to the townspeople, everyone seemed surprised that I was staying in the Debau Company trading house. Sir Stefan, the master of the house, apparently shares a hometown with the pope, you see, and has a deep connection through sending them goods. It’s unbelievable that he would accommodate one who would oppose the Church such as myself. Sir Stefan has reluctantly let me stay because management told him to. Merchants like him are more concerned about the profits before them than righteousness. Even in the absence of tithes, if the Church were to lose its funds, then the number of business transactions would decrease accordingly, and that is as far as his thoughts take him.”

  After supper, Hyland called the pair to his room. Col was more concerned during supper about keeping a smile on his face, so he did not clearly remember what he ate. Myuri had brazenly stuffed herself with food, and at first was reluctant to go, saying she could not move, but when she learned there would be candy, she came along shamelessly.

  “So the Debau Company is not a monolith, after all,” said Col.

  “Such a big company is the same as a country. It would be impossible to unite them in consensus, to say nothing of their status as merchants. They go round and round more than weather vanes on the roof.”

  Lawrence, whom he always greatly respected, was a former merchant, so Col simply let it go with a smile. “However, when I went to the craftsmen’s workshop to arrange for the paper, I listened to their story and was convinced. The ceasing of all religious activities really is wrong.”

  “I was surprised, too, talking to all the associations in town, since their responses were so much different from those in Lenos. It was as though I’d
become a savior.”

  Hyland spoke with a coarse voice and a smile, bringing wine to his lips.

  “Though this was originally pagan land, this is a town founded when those from the south came by boat and settled here. They fear the world outside their walls. They believe there are monsters hidden in the depths of the sea and that there is nothing that humanity can do about it. There is a stronger appreciation for God here compared to other places. That being said…”

  Hyland affectionately crinkled his eyes, resting his chin in his hand and setting his arm on the armrest of the chair as he watched Myuri. She showed no interest in the teachings of God as she cradled a tray of dried sugared apples and munched on them. The plethora of sugared fruits was available because of the many rich people who needed to divert themselves from the boredom on long sea journeys.

  “Most people act for material gain. They cannot stand having to pay taxes.” Hyland playfully eyed Myuri, who had tagged along when she heard there would be candy. “You saw the city walls under construction, yes? And the impressive paved road from the port.”

  “It’s a wonderful town.”

  “To be more precise, it is currently struggling to become a wonderful town. They are suffocating under the tax that has been levied on them. For all the activity it sees, this town is not very rich.”

  There was likely information from the Debau Company about that.

  “In addition, the cathedra in this town has a short history and low standing within the Church. More importantly, the archbishop here has never been placed in the church of a town with a good economy.”

  The smiles of those in high ranks were sometimes terribly cold-blooded.

  “He rises and thinks that all the money that comes through the Church is for himself. And yet, the townspeople all say that he is a hard worker.”

  Greedy yet fervent in his work for the Church—the two did not connect in Col’s head.

  Hyland looked at him and chuckled.

  “Col, you should look beyond the world of books, too.”

  “…I’m sorry.”

  “What I mean is that a longsword has its advantages, but you cannot use it like short sword.”