Lawrence had used the village’s wheat and the baker’s assistance to make cookies.
They were not dissimilar to unleavened bread, which was made with flour and water but without the yeast that caused regular bread to rise. Adding butter and eggs to this unleavened bread mixture, however, created something surprisingly delicious.
Cookies were common in the south, but for whatever reason, Lawrence had never seen them in the north.
Having discovered during a dinner with Elsa and Evan that they were unfamiliar with the different types of bread in the world, Lawrence had been convinced that the villagers would not know of cookies – and he had been right.
Cookies looked nothing like bread. While the baker’s guild strictly prohibited other businesses from baking and selling bread, foodstuffs aside from bread fell outside the scope of its rule.
Though the baker’s guild would surely protest, as long as the villagers had the support of Riendott and Bishop Van, theirs would remain a mutually beneficial relationship.
Cookies being a rare and delicious product, they sold well in Enberch. They sold so well that it seemed possible for the purported surplus of rye wheat to be insufficient for demand.
However, business of this sort could easily be copied, so it was only in the beginning that large profits would come with relative ease.
So it was that Lawrence had not demanded a share of the profits. Instead he had asked the villagers to buy the wheat he carried in his cart with a bit of extra coin included by way of apology.
If the people of Tereo planned to turn the cookies into a local specialty, they had a lot of hard work before them.
But the cookies’ deliciousness, at least, was guaranteed.
After all, in the three days since the end of the dispute, Holo had eaten nothing else.
To any who ate the cookies for the first time, their taste and texture could be addictive.
“Well then, it’s about time to be off,” said Lawrence.
Holo was happily spilling crumbs all over the pages of one of Father Franz’s books. She looked up, annoyed at the light tap Lawrence had given her.
Elsa was right outside the church, praying intensely over Lawrence’s cart for a safe journey while Elder Sem and the villagers had decided on their own to pray to Truyeo that Lawrence’s business would thrive.
The villagers’ attitude toward the church had changed. Some had even begun attending services out of gratitude.
No doubt in the future, Tereo would worship two gods.
Holo stood up from the chair in which she sat, grabbing a cookie from a mountain of the same on the table and holding it between her teeth.
“You know we have piles of those things in the cart. If this is like when you bought so many apples we could hardly eat them all, you’ll have naught but cookies for every meal,” warned Lawrence.
Holo took a bite out of the cookie with a loud crunch, regarding Lawrence with irritation. “Uh, just who was it, I wonder, that separated the good wheat from the bad and created that miracle? Had I not been there, you would’ve been tossed naked into a cauldron and boiled alive.”
It pained Lawrence to hear it, but Holo had been eating cookies at an absurd rate – even the villagers, who felt they owed her a great debt, were stunned into silence by the sight of her devouring the treats.
He felt he could warn her a bit without risking retribution.
“Mmph,” Holo continued. “We surely met with calamity this time around.”
It was a forced change of subject, but she was not wrong.
“Well, at least we turned a profit in the end.”
“Is that all you care about?” laughed Holo, her cheeks stuffed with cookie. “For my part, I cannot say that my hopes were met, but I did well enough. I suppose it was worth the effort.”
She looked at the book that recorded the tales of the Moon-Hunting Bear – which she had now read fully three times – and sighed. “So, where are we going next?”
“Lenos. There’s a legend there in which you personally appear.”
“Mm. I suppose it would be a bother to get caught in snow because we dragged our feet. We’d best get on with it.”
Lawrence knew that Holo’s true desire was to head north as soon as possible, but when he considered the journey that lay ahead, it was no wonder that the idea of lounging about in a suddenly comfortable village was appealing.
He was somewhat surprised that she was ready to go after just three days.
“Shall we?” she said.
“Quite.”
As soon as Lawrence and Holo emerged from the church, the villagers gathered to send them off.
Gloomy apologies like “Sorry we doubted you” were long since done with.
All that remained were happy wishes for safe travel.
“May God’s blessing go with you,” said Elsa, a gentle smile on her face.
This was enough to make a man happy – which Lawrence was despite the foot stomp he received from Holo.
“Mr. Lawrence,” said Evan, holding Elsa’s hand. “Thank you for teaching me so much. I’ll work hard here.”
It was the constant suspicion of the villagers that had made Evan want to leave the village to become a merchant.
Things had changed now, though, and Evan chose to stay in the village and take responsibility for future negotiations with Enberch.
Elsa and Evan’s hands were tightly clasped together. His decision to stay had obviously been the right one as anyone could tell.
“A traveler does not leave regret behind in a village, but good memories. Farewell!”
Lawrence gripped the reins, and the horse began its amble.
Wrapped in the faint sunlight of winter, the wagon clattered its way out of the small village of Tereo.
Elsa, Evan, and Sem all waved from where they stood in front of the church, and even Lawrence looked back twice to wave.
But their forms soon shrank and disappeared.
Lawrence’s travels with Holo had begun again.
Their destination was Lenos.
From there, they would head northeast.
It would be just around the end of spring at the opening of summer, Lawrence mused, when they would finally arrive in Yoitsu.
As Lawrence thought this over, Holo immediately took a bag of cookies out and dug in.
The solemn, contemplative atmosphere that came with newly begun travel was shattered by the crunching of cookies.
“Hm?” Holo looked up questioningly, her mouth full of cookies, and Lawrence decided her blank face had its own charms.
The smile he had upon seeing her innocent face soon evaporated. “Summer,” he murmured to himself.
Immediately thereafter, he noticed something approaching his face. He looked to find it was a cookie. “Don’t look at me so desirously,” she said sourly.
“I’ve had plenty, thanks,” said Lawrence.
Holo did not relent. “Your face says otherwise.” She shoved the cookie at him again.
Lawrence gave up and accepted it, taking a bite.
A particularly large amount of honey had been added to the cookies that the village had given Holo so they were quite sweet.
Such things were not at all bad once in a while, he mused.
Yet Holo still looked at him, somehow dissatisfied.
“What?”
“Nothing,” said Holo, looking ahead and taking another bite of her cookie.
She obviously wanted to say something – but what?
Lawrence thought this over, and it came to him.
Oh, but that – that was too unfair.
She wanted to make him say it – it was a trap.
And yet if he did not fall into the trap, she was sure to be angry.
There was nothing to be done.
Lawrence made his decision, popped the last piece of cookie into his mouth, and spoke.
“Hey.”
“Mm?”
Holo turned toward him, the picture of innocence.<
br />
Her tail swished expectantly beneath her robes.
Lawrence played along with her ridiculous farce.
“There’s some business where there’s good money to be made,” he said.
“Oh?”
“It’ll take us out of our way, though.”
Holo made an exaggeratedly irritated face and sighed.
Yet she did not ask for any further details, simply smiling in a vaguely resigned fashion. “I suppose it cannot be helped. I shall accompany you.”
Holo did not want their journey to end.
Lawrence believed this – and it was precisely because she didn’t want it to end that she affected this attitude.
She would never have admitted this, though.
What a charmless girl.
“So, tell me about this business,” she said with a happy smile.
Lawrence chewed his last piece of cookie and thanked whatever god had given him this bittersweet sensation.
Afterword
Hello! It has been quite a while. I am Isuna Hasekura, and this is the fourth volume.
What’s more, this makes it a full year since Spice and Wolf debuted. Time certainly does fly.
It seems like just the other day I was going to the Twelfth Dengeki Novel Prize party, dressed in a suit and desperately nervous – and just recently I attended the Thirteenth.
Time has moved so fast, in fact, that I didn’t have time to get my suit cleaned and wound up going in my civvies. That’s the reason why there in the sea of suits and ties was me, wandering around in my dingy jeans. The roast beef was excellent.
Speaking of which, the year-end party for Dengeki Publishing is coming up in a couple of weeks, and I cannot wait to see what delicious things they’ll serve. I really want to bring along some Tupperware to take leftovers home with me, but it’s been only a year since my debut, and I’m thinking that’s the kind of thing I shouldn’t do until I’m a more established veteran.
It’s so beautiful in my mind: I’ll grow a beard, smoke a pipe, and wave my cane around as I swagger into the hall, making for the sushi table and taking it home with me. Part of me says that my idea of a veteran author is a little off, but I’ve decided not to worry about it. Oh yeah – I can’t forget to bring some pickled ginger back with the sushi. I’d be a failure as a gentleman otherwise.
Now that I’ve filled some space, some thanks are due.
To Jyuu Ayakura-sensei, whose illustrations have once again turned out just as I have imagined them, my sincere thanks. When I was looking at the roughs, there would be a single character who would look too much like I imagined him, and I would have to laugh.
My deep thanks likewise go to my esteemed editor, Koetsu-sama, for carefully checking my shaky manuscripts. If they made me do that job myself, I’d probably give up halfway through. Thank you so much.
And to all of you who now hold this book in your hands, my deepest thanks. I hope that you also enjoy the next volume.
I shall see you then.
– Isuna Hasekura
Prologue
It was a quiet journey.
There was no conversation – only the clattering of the wagon.
They woke, they rattled around in the wagon, they ate – only that.
Kraft Lawrence sat in the driver’s seat, gripping the reins. It was his seventh year as a traveling merchant since setting out at the age of eighteen.
Loneliness was the constant companion of the traveling merchant, and he’d often found himself talking to his cart horse. There had been a time when these episodes were frequent. These last few days his quiet travels had continued, and he’d spoken no words worthy of the term.
Yet if asked if he was lonely, Lawrence’s reply would have been negative, which was unmistakably thanks to his companion, who sat next to him in the driver’s box.
Though she now had a blanket wrapped around herself so thoroughly that it was hard to tell if she was a boy or a girl, the beauty of her features would turn any head, and her long, chestnut-brown hair, fine enough to be the pride of any nobleman’s daughter, easily holding the attention of male passersby.
If she stayed quiet and polite, surely she could have entered the grandest of functions without so much as a hint of shame – yet there was a reason things were not so simple for Lawrence’s companion.
After all, she had the beast ears and tail that marked her as an evildoer.
His companion’s name was Holo.
Her true form was that of a giant wolf so great it could swallow a human in one bite. She was the wolf-god of the harvest, who dwelled within the wheat.
“…”
For a moment, Lawrence wondered if Holo had said something, but perhaps she had simply opened her eyes. Her reasons for doing so were generally obvious.
She had shifted her tail a moment ago, so next it would be her ears. With a deerskin-gloved hand, Lawrence took hold of Holo’s hood, pulling it slightly up off her head.
Through his gloved hand, he could feel her shift her wolf ears beneath the hood to a new, more comfortable position. The twitching motion continued for a moment, then stopped. After a period of minute adjustments, she seemed to be satisfied. This called to mind for Lawrence a fastidious noblewoman carefully arranging a flower in a vase until it was just so. Holo sighed softly, then nuzzled her hooded, blanketed head lightly against Lawrence.
Perhaps it was her way of expressing her thanks.
Lawrence returned his gaze to the road, and the quiet journey continued.
They no longer failed to understand each other.
Even without words, their travels were no longer lonely.
Chapter One
It had been a week since the incidents in the village of Tereo, where they’d very nearly been executed as criminals.
Lawrence and Holo now made for Lenos, a town where tales of Holo’s exploits in the distant past were said to still exist.
Lenos was a largish town for the northlands known for its lumber and furs.
It received its share of visitors, so Lawrence and Holo passed many other merchants who came and went on the road to the town. Lawrence himself had visited it many times in the past, though this time he did not come for business.
He instead sought information about the ancient home of his companion.
Thus his wagon bed held none of the trade goods that usually filled it.
Lawrence had originally planned to sell some of the mountains of cookies the villagers of Tereo had given him as thanks, but they had all been eaten by the wolf who now slept next to him. If there was something tasty to eat, she would devour as much of it as was there, becoming angry when there was no more to be had.
She ate, drank, and slept a truly stunning amount.
Lawrence had to admit, though, that between the cold and the boredom, he would fall asleep, too, if he didn’t have to hold the reins. In any case, her ability to sleep all night after drowsing all day was impressive. More than once he wondered if she was waking in the wee hours to sneak off and howl at the moon.
They had journeyed thus uneventfully for a week before the rain came.
Holo somehow contrived to predict the bad weather’s arrival two days in advance, so perhaps it was that memory or perhaps it was the falling rain… Either way, she stirred beneath the blanket and gave Lawrence a wordless, resentful glare.
Lawrence turned away. No matter how accusatory her gaze, it was not as if he could do anything about the rain.
It had been falling steadily since midday – not in big drops but rather in thin, misty sheets – which was nice enough as far as that went, but given the cold, it was hardly different from being sprinkled with ice shavings.
Lawrence’s hands had immediately gone numb, and just as he was beginning to ponder the possibility of hiding himself beneath the wagon bed, some god evidently noticed his good behavior.
Holo, too, noticed and popped her head out from underneath the blanket.
She yawned hugely. “… At this
rate, it looks like we’ll make it through without being frozen.”
“That’s easy for you to say bundled up in that blanket while I shiver away here, reins in hand.”
“Hmph. ’Tis my cold heart. It needs must be kept warm,” she said with a grin.
Lawrence found himself unable to be angry.
Ahead of them on the road stood their destination, a dark shadow that loomed in the otherwise pale white scenery.
“There ’tis. Like a piece of burnt rice floating in stew,” said Holo, her empty stomach making a ridiculous growling noise. Evidently, even this displeased wisewolf had not expected her stomach to growl at such an inopportune moment. After a stunned moment, she smiled sweetly, having forgotten her teasing entirely.
Lenos was a large port town built alongside the broad, slow Roam River, which meant that if they could see the town, the river should likewise be visible. At the moment, though, it was blurred from sight by the falling mist. Had it been clear, they would no doubt have seen the many boats that plied the rivers surface.
Upon entering the town, it was clear that there were many boats tied up at their moorings in addition to the constant traffic on the river. Holo’s beloved food stalls were abundant as was strong liquor.
If the coming winter’s snow was going to delay their progress, they would at least make certain to enjoy their time here.
Lawrence did have one worry, though.
“There’s something I should say, just to make sure you understand.”
“Mm?”
“I know you visited this place long ago, but you may have forgotten, so I’ll say it again: Lenos is a town of lumber and fur.”
“Quite.”
It was admittedly rather late to be bringing this up, but the treatment he could reasonably give her still depended on whether or not he’d made this point clear.
“Will you be angry if some of those furs are wolf pelts?”
Holo’s expression was maddeningly ambiguous as she pulled at her collar, unwrapping the fox fur muffler that she wore.
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