Spice & Wolf Omnibus

by Isuna Hasekura

  “Can you read, though?” Lawrence asked as he flipped through the forgeries.

  “A little…” came the uncertain reply.

  “More than half of these aren’t even forgeries.”

  “… Wh-what do you mean, sir?”

  Lawrence found himself a bit impressed at Col’s politeness. Perhaps he had indeed worked for a respectable master once. Lawrence and Col’s meeting having been what it was, that was a bit surprising.

  Col’s expression was one of total defeat; he could hardly have looked any more depressed than he did.

  Perhaps feeling sorry for him, Holo – who was sitting next to the boy – offered him some more bread.

  “Most of these are documents stolen from some trading firm somewhere. Look here, there are even notices of payment sent,” said Lawrence, handing the sheets to Holo – but although Holo could read, she didn’t know anything about notices of payment.

  She cocked her head, but when she tried to show them to Col, he shook his head.

  Perhaps it felt too much like looking upon his own failure.

  “If this is the kind of thing you bought, I see them all the time. These papers themselves aren’t good for drawing any money, but they’re good for getting a laugh among merchants. They were stolen from some trading firm somewhere and have been passed around from one merchant to another since then,” said Lawrence.

  “One of my customers got tricked by them, too,” added Ragusa as he nudged the boat’s prow away from a rock in the river.

  “Who would steal this?” asked Holo.

  “Usually an apprentice at the firm who’s gotten tired of being worked too hard – they’ll grab them on their way out as a final piece of pay. Rival firms will pay a decent price for the information they contain, and of course, there are swindlers who will buy them up as well. It’s advice that gets passed along from one young apprentice to another. If you take money, the company will come after you in earnest. But with something like this, the firm has its reputation to consider, so it’s harder for them to pursue.”

  “Huh?”

  “Consider how it would look for a firm to madly chase down a missing copy of its ledger – people would think there was something extraordinary on that ledger, wouldn’t they? And that’s bad for business.”

  Holo nodded, impressed by this angle she hadn’t considered.

  Lawrence flipped through page after page as he talked but seemed to be finding them genuinely interesting.

  It wasn’t every day that one could easily see which firms had ordered which goods from which shops in which towns.

  Col’s situation was a sad one, though.

  “You know what they say, ‘Ignorance is a sin’? What do you say, lad – you’ve no money anyway, so what say I buy these in exchange for your food and fare?”

  The boy’s eyebrows twitched in surprise, but he didn’t look up, instead staring intently at the inside wall of the boat.

  No doubt he was making some calculations in his mind.

  There might be something genuine hidden somewhere in that sheaf of paper, or the pages might all be useless, but if he let this opportunity pass he’d never again meet someone willing to trade for them. And yet – he’d paid more than a trenni for the lot of them…

  Just as Holo often bragged of her ability to see through Lawrence’s intentions, Lawrence himself was confident in his ability to figure profit-loss calculations.

  Yet unlike Holo, that did not come from an ability to discern people’s subtlest shifts in expression, but rather from his long experience as a merchant.

  “F-for how much?” asked Col.

  As though bearing some grudge, he looked carefully up at Lawrence – perhaps because he felt that if he betrayed any lack of confidence, the price would be beaten down.

  His effort was quite charming, and Lawrence had to force himself not to smile at it; he coughed and calmed himself. “Ten lute.”

  “…” Col’s face twitched, and he took a deep breath before answering. “Th-that’s too low.”

  “I see. Keep them, then,” replied Lawrence immediately, thrusting the sheaf back at Col.

  What little vitality Col had mustered drained immediately from his face.

  His disappointment showing so clearly made him look more tattered and worn than if he hadn’t tried to put on a brave face in the first place.

  Col bit his lip as he looked back and forth from the sheaf of papers to Lawrence.

  His stubbornness in trying to sell the papers for a bit more had dropped his profits to zero. That same stubborn mask would now be an obstacle if he wanted to ask for anything more.

  That was surely what he was thinking.

  When he calmed himself a bit, he saw Holo and Ragusa’s indulgent smiles and must have realized that it was showing his weakness that would allow him a means of escape.

  A merchant will throw away all of his pride if it brings profit.

  Of course, Col was not a merchant, and he was yet young.

  Lawrence withdrew the sheaf of papers, scratching his chin with the corner of the stack. “Twenty lute, then. I can go no higher.”

  Col’s eyes widened, as though his face had just broken through the surface of the water, but he then immediately looked down.

  His relief was obvious, and obvious was his desire to hide it.

  Lawrence looked at Holo, who bared her fangs at him, as if to say, “Don’t tease the boy overmuch.”

  “I accept your offer…” said Col.

  “That’s not quite enough to make it all the way to Kerube, though. We’ll have to let you off on the way, or else…” Lawrence looked askance at the good-natured boatman who had been enjoying the proceedings thus far.

  “Ah, I suppose it’s all right,” said Ragusa with a laugh, taking Lawrence’s meaning. “There’ll be odd jobs on along the way. Lend a hand, and I’m sure I can make it worth your time.”

  Col looked about like a lost puppy, then gave a hesitant nod.

  Toll checkpoints along the river were so common they were a nuisance.

  All you needed to collect some money was the ability to stop boat traffic, so it was understandable – but without them, the journey would have been twice as fast.

  Even worse, the more affluent landlords could afford to build checkpoints that connected overland roads on either side of the river, which would then become places where boats could load and unload cargo.

  Soon people would gather to sell food and drink to the boatmen, and the checkpoint would take on aspects of a roadside inn, and many of them had come to be miniature towns in their own right.

  All this slowed river traffic, and there were even times when walking would have been faster.

  Ragusa would try to hurry his boat through, but he had nothing on those who were hauling furs.

  The fur traders needed to reach Kerube as soon as they possibly could and would throw so much money at the toll collectors that the collectors could hardly complain, and despite the narrow river and Ragusa’s skill, his boat was passed by.

  “We’ll never catch the vixen like this…”

  They were stopped at the latest of who knew how many checkpoints, where Ragusa evidently had some appointment he had to keep.

  He immediately started talking with a merchant who approached, and calling out to Col, he began moving cargo.

  Thus it was that one boat passed them and then another; Holo was leaning against Lawrence as she napped, but her eyes opened, and she watched the boats vaguely and muttered.

  Ever since boarding the boat, Holo had been exceedingly sleepy, so Lawrence wondered if she was feeling poorly, but then he remembered how she had cried when he had gone to pick her up from being held as collateral by the Delink Company.

  It had been many a year since Lawrence himself had cried, so he had forgotten – crying took a surprising amount of energy.

  “Still, it’s faster than a wagon,” replied Lawrence vaguely as he looked through the papers he had bought from Col.
>
  “I wonder,” said Holo.

  The rocking boat began to feel like a cradle.

  Ocean waves could easily make one sick, but the gentle motion of the river was rather conducive to napping and was far from unpleasant.

  “That boy, he’s quite earnest.”

  “Hmm? Oh yes.”

  Holo was watching Col move cargo on the pier.

  Just as she said, Col was following Ragusa’s instructions without complaint as he helped in preparing goods for shipment. He couldn’t quite manage carrying the large wheat-filled bags from Ragusa’s boat, so instead, he carried smaller bags aboard, which seemed to be filled with some sort of legume.

  Watching him work now, Lawrence could scarcely imagine that this was the same boy who’d called out “Master” as he clung to a final thread of hope.

  Humans were capable of incredible feats when pressed.

  “Oh, indeed, to get taken in the way he was, he would have to be earnest.”

  Given the paltry amount of one trenni and eight lute, Lawrence imagined Col had been taken for everything he had.

  Most people who are swindled were quite earnest, whether greedy or not. They would never imagine that the tale being told to them was a lie.

  “I heard somewhere that the more earnest the man, the easier a mark he is.” Holo was back in fine form.

  Lawrence escaped into his sheaf of papers.

  “Heh. So, have you found anything of interest?”

  “… A few things, I suppose.”

  “Hmph. For example?” asked Holo as she casually looked over at the pier, whereupon something seemed to surprise her.

  Lawrence followed her gaze and saw a mule loaded so heavily it seemed on the verge of collapse.

  Ragusa and Col had been loading wares aboard this traveling merchant’s mule.

  Its appearance was a bit of an act, but Holo made a face as though she sympathized with the beast.

  “For example, here. An order letter for copper coins.”

  “Copper… coins? Why would you buy money of all things? Are there still others playing at that scheme from before?”

  “No, this is just because they need them. They’ve paid a bit above market price, look. ‘Per usual, transport costs and customs duties are the responsibility of the buyer.’ This is proof of regular purchases.”

  “Hmm… wait a moment. I feel as though I remember hearing something. Why would they do that…? I seem to remember…” Holo closed her eyes as wrinkles appeared in her furrowed brow.

  Outside of speculation, there were any number of reasons to buy up currency.

  But in the case of the low-value copper coins recorded on the sheet, there was only one.

  Holo looked up and smiled. “I have it. It’s for small change!”

  “Oh ho, you’ve been paying attention.”

  Holo swelled up and grinned at Lawrence’s praise.

  “Indeed,” Lawrence continued. “These are being specifically imported to be used as change. If someone comes to shop, and you don’t have change ready, you won’t do proper business. Travelers constantly take small change out of a city. This coin is probably crossing the channel by way of Kerube. The island kingdom of Winfiel is on the other side of the channel, and it’s famously short on currency. That’s why currency that circulates this way is called ‘rat coin.’”

  Holo looked at him blankly.

  Something about her face made Lawrence want to poke her nose with his finger.

  “When war is imminent or a nation’s situation is unstable, travelers and money flow out of the region, like rats fleeing a sinking ship – hence the term.”

  “I see. Quite an apt phrase.”

  “Indeed, I’d quite like to meet whoever invented it… hmm?”

  As he continued to read the paper in question, Lawrence stopped talking when his eyes fell upon something.

  He felt as though he had seen the company’s name somewhere.

  A short cry came from the direction of the pier as Lawrence tried to remember why the name seemed familiar.

  When he looked up, he saw Col about to fall from the edge – but fortunately he avoided drowned rathood as Ragusa grabbed him by the collar and pulled him up; he dangled there like a helpless kitten.

  What Lawrence heard next were laughing voices and what he saw was Col’s sheepish smile.

  He didn’t seem a bad sort.

  Holo’s keen eye for people seemed to have been proven reliable yet again.

  “So? What is it?” she asked.

  “Hmm? Ah, yes, the company name that’s written here… I feel as though I’ve seen it somewhere. Maybe it was somewhere in these papers.”

  As Lawrence was leafing through them, the boat suddenly heaved.

  Ragusa and Col had finished their labors and returned to the vessel.

  “Well done. You’re quite the hard worker,” said Holo to Col, who had returned to the boat’s prow, and his stiff face softened somewhat.

  He was probably a quiet lad by nature, but he seemed to have noticed Lawrence flipping through the stack of papers as though looking for something.

  Col’s face was curious as he watched Lawrence.

  “Unfortunately, there’s nothing worth money here,” said Lawrence without looking up; he sensed the boy flinching.

  Holo smiled slightly, punching Lawrence in the shoulder as if to say, “Don’t tease him.”

  Lawrence did understand the boy’s hopes, though.

  He himself had once been taken in by something similar.

  “Ah, here we are.”

  “Oh?”

  Lawrence pulled out a single sheet of paper.

  It was still clean, and the writing on it was neat.

  It was dated roughly a year earlier and appeared to be a record of the various goods the company had loaded aboard a ship. If there were omissions when the records were entered in the register, they couldn’t be amended, so this functioned as a kind of rough draft. Thus the list here would not have differed from what was actually noted in the ledgers, and it included clearly written descriptions of goods, their amounts, and their destinations.

  The information networks of companies like these, while not strictly worldwide, brought them reports from distant branch shops and allies, and when added to their proactive gathering of news from local sources, they were like a mountain of jewels to an independent merchant.

  Looking at a list of the goods such a company was sending out to distant locals was like looking into a mirror reflecting the information that company had gathered.

  Of course, one had to know how to interpret such knowledge.

  “Which is why this has no monetary value.”

  “Er, urn, I mean–” Col had been staring holes into Lawrence’s coin purse, but flustered now, he looked away.

  Lawrence smiled, then stood and extended his hand. “Here.”

  Col looked at Lawrence searchingly, then turned his eyes to the paper.

  “See? ‘Recorded by Ted Reynolds of Jean Company,’ it says.”

  The rocking of the boat made it difficult to read, so despite the cold, Lawrence emerged from under the blanket and sat down next to Col. The boy looked up at Lawrence with trepidation, but his interest seemed to be with the paper.

  “What else?” he pressed Lawrence childishly, his eyes a misty blue.

  “The destination is an island nation beyond the channel from Kerube, downriver. It’s called the kingdom of Winfiel. Oh, also – this is the home of the vixen.” These last words were aimed at Holo.

  Lawrence could see her ears twitch beneath her hood.

  Even if she didn’t plan to pursue the woman, Holo seemed not to harbor any warm feelings toward her, either.

  “Anyway, this is a memo of a variety of different goods collected in the port of Kerube that will be sold to another company – the name isn’t here – in Winfiel. These are the goods. Can you read them?”

  To the question of whether or not he could read, Col answered, “A littl
e.”

  He squinted as though his eyesight was poor, staring intently at the words written on the page.

  His mouth seemed glued shut for a time, but at length it opened. “… Wax, glass bottles, books… buckles? Iron plate… er… tin, gold-smithing. And… ah, nee–?”

  “Eni. It’s a kind of coin.”

  “Eni?”

  “Indeed. You’re quite good.”

  Back when he had been an apprentice, Lawrence had never been happier than when his master praised him and mussed his hair. He recognized that he was not quite as rough as his master had been, so he patted Col’s head somewhat more lightly than his master would have.

  Col ducked his head in surprise, then smiled bashfully.

  “Next to the names of the goods are the amounts and the prices. Unfortunately we can’t wave this aloft and expect anyone to give us money for it. It would be a different story if there were evidence of smuggling on it, though.”

  “There isn’t any?”

  “Unfortunately not. So long as they don’t write, ‘These are smuggled goods,’ there’s no way to tell. Unless they’re bringing in something obviously prohibited, that is.”

  “I see…” said Col with a nod, looking back at the paper. “Er, so then…”

  “Yes?”

  “What is it about this paper?”

  No doubt he wanted to know why Lawrence had gone looking for this one sheet in particular.

  “Oh, on another sheet there was a record of a copper coin order, and this was the company that placed the order. Though they’re made across the sea, here in Ploania territory, they’re a copper coin that’s mostly used in Winfiel as small change…”

  As Lawrence talked, a strange feeling came over him.

  He looked up, then stood.

  Opposite him, Holo had been vaguely paging through the sheaf, but she now looked up in surprise. “What is it?”

  “Where’s the paper from before?”

  “Mm. Here it is.”

  Holo produced a page with a rustling sound, handing it to Lawrence.

  Holding the memorandum in his right hand, Lawrence took the order sheet from Holo with his left.

  As he looked back and forth between the two, he realized the source of the strange feeling.