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Spice & Wolf Omnibus

Page 96

by Isuna Hasekura


  But if that was so, something was strange.

  The statue transactions were a stable source of income – would they be ruined with but a single stumble? Did the Church simply not take Eve seriously, or had they created a distribution system that let them procure the statues themselves?

  Eve had simply decided to leave the town for good, but she seemed to not have fully abandoned the possibility that the deal could be restarted the following year, which struck Lawrence as awfully gracious indeed.

  According to the beggar, Eve had quarreled with the church so fiercely that her shouting voice could be heard outside the building. Yet none of this was of enough importance to justify parting with such anger. Sometimes doing business meant winding up with worthless stock or having business partners turn their backs on you. It was hardly rare.

  Naturally such things were upsetting, and the deeper your trust, the stronger the feeling of betrayal. But Eve had not struck Lawrence as so young a merchant that she would think shouting would change the situation.

  Did the Church know that Eve was nobility, albeit fallen nobility?

  She had said that there was a trading firm in the town that knew about her noble background.

  The Church had information-gathering prowess that would put any trading firm to shame – it had to know.

  It was incomprehensible that the same bishop who invited moneyed nobility from all over to lavish dinners would discard Eve, who was herself nobility. She could be useful for any number of things.

  Or had her usefulness disappeared?

  Was that why she offered to bring Lawrence, a merchant she had just happened to meet, in on a deal worth thousands of silver pieces?

  Was it out of desperation? Or was she trying to recover? It couldn’t have been just a passing tip. The amount was far too high.

  Was he overthinking things to wonder if she had a motive beyond simple profit?

  But even if she was trying to lure Lawrence into a trap, there were only a few choices.

  She could run off with the goods once Lawrence had fronted the money or kill Lawrence midway through the export or possibly make a secret deal with the trade firm to sell Holo off, then pretend nothing had happened.

  Yet none of these seemed likely.

  The deal Eve had proposed was entirely legal (save for her passing off Holo as a relative of her noble house), so the contents of it would be declared before a public witness and Lawrence would have a copy. If he was to send this to a trading firm in some other town, his opponent would be unable to make any careless moves. As long as a third party had a careful record of all of Lawrence’s actions, none of these plans would be easy for her to put into action.

  Moreover, Lawrence didn’t expect that Eve took him so lightly as to think such simple schemes would work against him.

  Perhaps she really wasn’t planning anything.

  All deals lay somewhere in the gap between trust and suspicion.

  He was far from trusting her, but he would only be able to investigate for so long before the deal became impossible.

  He would have to decide.

  Lawrence mulled it over as he made for the Beast and Fish Tail.

  If the Council of Fifty had reached a decision, which seemed to be an open secret now, he expected there would be new information circulating.

  When he reached the tavern, it was completely empty; not a single person was to be found inside. Walking down the alley that ran to the rear of the building, he found the barmaid washing a large basin that looked as though it was used to hold wine.

  “Goodness, you’re here early,” she said.

  “I must assume it’s the cold wash water making you pull such a face.”

  “Oh, aye, and it’s on that account I may be a bit cold myself,” she said with a smile, putting down the balled-up length of hempen cloth she was using to wash the basin. “How many merchants do you suppose have come to speak with me?”

  All of them desperate for profit, no doubt.

  Lawrence didn’t know how many merchants within the town were trying to stake a claim in the fur trade, but Eve seemed to believe that she and Lawrence could make a profit. He wondered if that was really true. It was another thing that worried him.

  “Can you not imagine that your beauty was their aim?” asked Lawrence.

  The barmaid giggled. “Smiles are gold, words silver. How many boorish louts do you suppose offered copper coins?”

  It couldn’t have been too many yet more than a few, no doubt.

  “I’ll admit I’ve come to ask some rather boorish things myself.”

  “I’ve no doubt of that. Owe a merchant a favor, and he’ll always come to collect. So, what is it you want to know?” Apparently she had put down the cloth not to talk to Lawrence, but rather to empty the basin of its water. She tilted the basin, which was big enough for Holo to curl up inside when lain flat, and poured its contents onto the ground.

  “It’s about the Council of Fifty,” said Lawrence plainly. If he’d delivered a pick-up line so flatly, he could have gotten his tail kicked and had no call to complain.

  But the barmaid only shrugged and smiled. “I hear they’ve come to a conclusion. They say they’re going to allow fur sales but not on credit.”

  It was exactly what Eve had said.

  Just as Lawrence considered how to value this information, the girl swept the grape-tailings into a corner with her foot and continued. “Customers were asking me about it all last night. Honestly, one or two of them could’ve at least brought me a love letter.”

  Lawrence considered this new datum while skillfully replying, “A contract is a merchant’s only love letter.”

  “Ah, ’tis true that loving and being loved is not enough to fill one’s belly,” said the barmaid. “Hmm,” she added uncertainly, then smiled grandly, as if to add, “Though for a woman, that’s not really true.”

  Lawrence smiled ruefully, but he knew that if he was to go along with her game, he would be no better than her drunken patrons. “Though for my part all I need is but a glance, and I’m satisfied. I feel as though I should thank you for the meal!”

  The barmaid was stunned for a moment, then smacked Lawrence playfully with her hand, which was red from her kitchen chores. “Sir, you are unfair! That was what I was going to say!”

  Lawrence laughed, but his mind was keen and focused.

  It struck him as strange that since last night so many merchants had come here to confirm their information with this girl. Assuming the information had leaked to them via a colleague, there shouldn’t be any need to go talk to some tavern’s barmaid to confirm the story.

  And from whose mouth was she hearing the latest news anyway?

  Perhaps most of her knowledge could be inferred from the information that merchants inadvertently let slip as they asked her questions.

  “Were most of the people that came to ask you questions frequent customers?”

  “Huh? Frequent?” The girl wrung water out of the washcloth. Lawrence wondered if her hands hurt, given the cold water and chilly weather. She frowned and exhaled, her breath visible. “I guess I’d say it’s been about half regulars and half not. Only…”

  “… Only?”

  The girl looked around furtively, then lowered her voice and continued. “Only a lot of the new customers have been rather careless. You’re the only one among them who’s asked proper questions.”

  “Oh, come now,” replied Lawrence with his merchant’s smile.

  “I won’t tell them a thing when they’re like that. Foreign merchants may have sharp ears, but they’ve also loose tongues. They’ll come in and just blurt out, ‘So I hear fur buying is going to be cash only, is that true?’ It’s absurd!”

  “They’re failures as merchants,” Lawrence said with a chuckle, but internally he was far from calm.

  If all merchants were so foolish, business would be easier than it was.

  And it certainly wasn’t the case that only foreign merchants ma
de such mistakes. Of course, the citizens of a town tended to believe that the people who called it home were the smartest and best, but that was nothing more than a widely held illusion.

  So what was their goal?

  Perhaps the foreign merchants were talking so freely of the council’s decision as a signal to show that they had that information in an effort to disturb and intimidate the local merchants. Or perhaps it was a tactic on the part of moneylenders and changers to temporarily drive the value of currency up in anticipation of cash-only fur transactions.

  But the foreign merchants had nothing to gain from spreading fake information, so whatever their goal, the meeting result that Eve had spoken of was probably true.

  If the group of merchants outside the town were all acting out of their own personal self-interests, then they might be trying to create confusion in order to lure other parties away from the truth. In that case, though, Lawrence would expect there to be more than one story about the council’s decision circulating.

  Likewise, the town insiders and those close to them would know the truth firsthand, so it seemed unlikely that the foreign merchants were trying to create a disturbance within the town.

  Eve had said she’d heard the news from sources within the Church.

  Whether or not that was true, Lawrence might learn something here that would help him divine something from it.

  “By the way,” he started.

  “Yes?”

  “I’d like to ask about the church here–” said Lawrence.

  “Uh, please lower your voice,” interrupted the girl, her face suddenly stiff, grabbing his arm and pushing him through the barely opened back door of the tavern.

  She then peered through the cracked door to make sure no one had seen them.

  Just as Lawrence was wondering what was going on, she turned to face him. “If you’re asking about the church, you must have heard at least a bit already.”

  “Well, I suppose…”

  “Take my advice, you shouldn’t get involved.”

  The barmaid’s expression was so serious there in the cramped back hall of the empty bar that he felt the mask of his coolheaded merchant’s face slipping, but Lawrence quickly recovered and responded.

  “So there is a power struggle, isn’t there?”

  If the girl hadn’t had acting ability to rival Holo’s, Lawrence would have known for sure he’d been dead-on.

  “We serve uncommon dishes here, so we’re one of the places that caters the church’s dinners.”

  This corroborated the beggar’s tale, and this was one of the few shops from which the church could order any meat dish they wished.

  The girl scratched her head, sighing uncomfortably. “I don’t know all the details, but it seems they’re inviting powerful figures from all over. Once we were up for two nights straight cooking for some Church bigwig who’d come from far away.”

  A distant Church dignitary.

  If this was a power struggle, Lawrence knew all too well what it pointed to.

  The conversation was taking a strange turn.

  “So they’re solidifying their power base,” said Lawrence.

  “Yes. And they’ve been very careful about their reputation, like it’s clay that hasn’t dried yet. They give generously to the poor, but whence comes their money, no one knows. So there’s no telling what might happen to whoever says anything. Everyone whispers to each other about how if the Church’s eye falls upon them, they won’t be able to stay in the city.”

  “If this is all true, why are you telling me?” asked Lawrence, slightly intimidated by the girl’s seriousness.

  “Well, I wouldn’t tell just anyone.”

  Just as Lawrence wore the mask of a merchant, this girl surely wore the mask of the barmaid.

  So if the back of the back was the front – which was this?

  “For future reference, might I ask why you’re making an exception?”

  “Well, if I had to venture to say…” she replied strangely coy, her face drawing near. “I suppose it would be because you have the scent of another woman about you.”

  Unable to retreat because of the wall behind him, Lawrence stared at the girl, his face faltering. “So it’s your pride as a barmaid, then?”

  The girl giggled. “There is that, but there’s something about you that just makes a girl with a bit of confidence want to have a go. Do you get that a lot?”

  Unfortunately, Lawrence’s experience was limited to being rejected by inn maids.

  All he could do was shake his head.

  “Well, then there’s only one explanation. You’ve only recently met the girl at your side.”

  She was not to be underestimated. Was this what they called female intuition?

  “It’s because you seem a very gentle person,” the girl continued. “I’ll bet no one gave you a second look when you were wandering about on your own, but once we see that you’re with another girl, we women get curious. If a beast sees a single sheep on its own, it might be too lazy to hunt it, but if a wolf is with that sheep, then we begin to wonder – is that sheep really so tasty? And we covet it for ourselves.”

  There weren’t many men who would appreciate being compared to a sheep, but it was sadly true that he did in fact have a wolf by his side.

  Was this girl really human?

  “That’s why I’d very much like you to bring your companion by the tavern.”

  Without interest in money or status, perhaps it was this sort of spice that was perfectly suited to adding a bit of flavor to life.

  Surprisingly, that was probably what she had taken in exchange for telling him the truth.

  “You’ve already given me that invitation,” he said.

  The barmaid gave a smile of frustration. “Oooh, that composure is so frustrating.”

  “I’m a sheep, after all. We’re unsympathetic creatures,” said Lawrence, putting his hand to the back door. He then turned back to the girl. “Of course, I’ll tell no one of this conversation.”

  “Not even your charming companion?”

  Lawrence couldn’t help but laugh.

  He wondered if this kind of girl was more his type than some mild maiden.

  “So, you’ve told me everything, you say?”

  “Without leaving out a bit.”

  Lawrence had returned to find Holo just as he’d left her – reading books, her tail swaying lazily. It flicked to a sudden stop.

  “It seems I need to teach that girl a few things about territory.” Holo looked at Lawrence, her expression mildly pleased. “But it seems you’re coming to understand the truth of certain things.”

  “For a draft horse to be free despite its reins, it must anticipate the will of its driver.”

  Holo smiled, satisfied. “So,” she said, sitting up. “What think you of all this?”

  It seemed safe to believe that Eve had indeed sold statues to the Church, that they had a disagreement, and parted ways.

  Also, Eve’s description of the outcome of the council meeting seemed to be accurate.

  What worried Lawrence was that in trying to gain control of the town, the Church was trying to establish a cathedral. Cathedrals acted as centers of power for the Church organization and were established based on the recommendations of influential landholders or clergymen, but generally the extant clergymen in such areas resisted the establishment of cathedrals because they represented a new power structure in the region.

  Of course, Lawrence had heard that this was all dependent on money and connections.

  If a cathedral was established here, the local church’s current bishop would go from a man who was appointed bishop to one who appoints them himself. He would have the right to collect a certain amount from the tithes given to churches all over the region and the right to sanction secular rulers in the region.

  Sole religious jurisdiction would be his, and while it was an extreme example, he could accuse all who disagreed with him of heresy, having his rivals burned at
the stake. That said, most bishops’ interests lay in being able to levy fines, and no authority would exceed Church jurisdiction.

  It was anticipating such a situation that had made the barmaid so fearful of speaking out against the Church.

  Lawrence could certainly understand why, having parted with the Church on bad terms, Eve would want to leave town and why she wouldn’t be able to casually talk about restarting their arrangement next year.

  What he couldn’t understand was why she would fight with the Church in the first place. For Lawrence’s part, he would have eaten mud to avoid crossing them. It would’ve been worth it.

  It might not be a bad idea to make a gamble if it meant being able to understand the situation.

  Given the Church’s power in the Council of Fifty, no doubt the council’s decision was made by the bishop, and since that decision would have been made in the best interests of the town’s economy, Eve’s plan stood in opposition to the Church.

  Lawrence came to wonder if it was possible that his life might actually be at risk.

  If a foreign merchant was killed or went missing after making a legitimate transaction, suspicion would immediately fall on the party that stood to profit from that merchant’s death – the town’s authority figures. Lawrence was a member of the Rowen Trade Guild, so if he made that clear, it was unlikely that a bishop angling to establish a cathedral would take such drastic, violent action.

  And the scale of the deal that Eve was organizing, while a vast sum to a lone merchant, was not particularly significant in the context of the entire town’s fur trade. Lawrence doubted he would attract the wrong kind of attention over such a relatively small venture, and it surely wouldn’t become a matter of life or death. Of course, to some individuals, thousands of silver pieces could certainly be worth killing over.

  Lawrence explained this all to Holo.

  The wisewolf listened seriously for a while, but her posture grew lazier and lazier, and eventually she collapsed back onto the bed.

  Lawrence, however, was not angry.

  He could find no reason to object to her behavior.

 

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