Spice & Wolf Omnibus

by Isuna Hasekura

  If that had been the real intent, they would have done so when the Church started taking violent action.

  The reason they hadn’t was because they all understood what would happen if reinforcements arrived.

  It wasn’t as though no information ever entered the mountain villages from the outside world.

  “But after the Church leader became ill and had to simply withdraw, I began thinking.”

  As soon as he said it, Lawrence understood.

  Col was a bright lad.

  Instead of thinking about his personal beliefs, he chose to take the most logical path to defend his village.

  He realized the absurd power that came with wearing the robes of a high-ranking priest, the power to begin and end the exchange of human lives at will.

  He would study Church law and eat into its power structures.

  That was how Col intended to protect his village.

  “And no one opposed your decision?”

  Even Holo would become emotional, talking of her homeland.

  Col wiped his tears with the edge of his hood, clasped in balled-up hands. “The headman… and the elder woman… supported me.”

  “I see. They must have believed that you could do it.”

  Col nodded, then stopped to wipe his tears on his shoulder before walking again. “They secretly lent me some money, too… so I have to find a way to get back in school.”

  His greatest motivation was perhaps the need for money.

  He who fought for the sake of something else was always stronger than he who fought for himself.

  Lawrence was not, however, so prosperous that he could afford to become Col’s patron.

  But he might be able to give the boy some small aid.

  By teaching him how to make a bit of money and how to avoid traps, Lawrence might be able to bring a bit of color to the boy’s journey.

  “I can’t really help you out with your money problems right now, but…”

  Col sniffled. “Oh! N-no, that’s not–”

  “But about that copper coin. If you can find enough of an answer to convince Ragusa, then there might be a reward in it for you.”

  The reason Lawrence didn’t stipulate the answer was because there was no way of knowing what that was without asking the Jean Company. But while that was impossible, they might infer enough of the truth to convince Ragusa.

  There’d be no sin in expecting a reward for such a thing.

  One had to reward anyone who helped pluck a thorn from his finger.

  “Of course, the most helpful effect it will have is taking away the nervousness of the journey,” said Lawrence with a smile, lightly patting Col’s head.

  While by Holo’s standards, Lawrence was always being too serious, compared to this boy, he was practically mellow.

  “Still, just a moment ago you said it looked like a festival – did you mean it looked like Pinu’s festivals? Are they like that?” asked Lawrence, pointing at the grounded vessel now that the details of the scene had come into view.

  A small mountain of wreckage from the ships had been collected on the riverbank, and beside it, several men were lighting fires and drying their clothes.

  But that was certainly not the main event – the main event was the rope that extended from underneath the grounded vessel and the men on the shore that were pulling on it.

  They were a mix of ages and appearances, with their only commonality being that their journey downriver had been interrupted by this calamity.

  A few of the greediest were shouldering their cargoes and heading downriver, but most set them aside and put their backs into pulling on the rope.

  Even a long-mantled knight on horseback was joining in the effort, so spirits were high. A few men were on the ship’s deck with poles, keeping it from tipping over or being washed away – they raised their voices in chorus along with the rest.

  Col watched the scene, entranced, then at length looked back at Lawrence. “This is more fun than that!”

  Lawrence held back the words that came upon seeing Col’s expression.

  It was hard to imagine a more suitable apprentice should he choose to take one – and not just because Holo had said so.

  Once Lawrence’s journey with Holo came to an end, the cold, hard, lonely road of the traveling merchant still awaited him. And even if Col was no substitute for Holo, the lad could certainly sit in the driver’s box beside Lawrence.

  But Col had his own goals and did not exist only for Lawrence’s convenience.

  Which was why Lawrence forced himself not to ask, “Will you be my apprentice?” (though it took considerable effort).

  Lawrence grumbled quietly to the gods that Col’s goal was not becoming a merchant.

  “I suppose we’d best help them out, then. Pulling on that rope will warm us against the chill.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  Just as Lawrence and Col began to walk, Ragusa waved his pole with a smile and raised his voice, his boat slipping lightly down the river.

  There was a huge difference between watching from afar and actually pulling on the rope.

  The peaty ground sloshed around when stepped on, and without gloves, the rope and the cold air mercilessly wore away at the skin of the hands.

  On top of that, because the rope was attached to a section of the ship that was below the waterline, the people pulling would heave back against the unyielding resistance, only to have it give way in sudden spurts.

  Whereupon everyone would naturally fall over, and soon they were all covered in mud.

  Lawrence and the other merchants and travelers started out enthusiastically, but as soon as the hardship became apparent, they began to visibly lose their vigor.

  No matter how hard they pulled, the only things that surfaced were fragments of the ruined ship, so morale – like the vessel – was low.

  And the boatmen, who had stripped naked in the freezing weather to dive underwater and attach the rope to the ship, were blue-lipped and white-faced with the cold.

  After lighting a fire, a traveling actress and a seamstress – encouraged by Holo and Ragusa – jumped into the river, but the water was so cold that no amount of willpower could overcome it. When they dragged themselves back onto the bank, they looked terrible.

  Finally, unable to watch any further, an older boatman called out. Perhaps boatmen were too stubborn themselves to admit that it was impossible. His distorted face was painful to see.

  A wave of surrender was emanating from Lawrence and the rest. Merchants were quick to pull out of a game once they saw there was no profit in it.

  The boatmen, who lived their lives on the river, seemed to have every intention of using sheer willpower to raise the ship, but as one and then another let go of the rope and doubled over in exhaustion, they seemed to understand that it was impossible. They held a conference around a middle-aged member of their profession and soon came to a decision.

  Both Lenos and Kerube were distant, and the sun would soon be setting.

  If the boatmen made their passengers wait any longer, they would unavoidably leave a bad impression.

  Without further ado, the rope hauling was ended.

  Lawrence did not neglect his own fitness, but he rarely had the need to do such labor. His body felt leaden, and the palms of his hands burned as though scorched. His swollen left cheek was cold enough that it no longer felt painful.

  “Are you all right?” Lawrence asked.

  Col had quickly pulled away from the tug-of-war. Perhaps because of the festive atmosphere around him, he’d done his best, carried away by the mood and putting all his strength into the task.

  But his body was slender and he soon reached the end of his endurance, retreating apologetically from the task.

  “Ah, yes… I’m really sorry.”

  “Don’t be. Look at all these merchants. They wish they’d done what you did.” Lawrence motioned with his chin at the small clumps of merchants sitting here and there, who weren’t even try
ing to hide their irritation at the unfavorable outcome that the investment of their effort had produced.

  Some of them were losing their temper – most likely the ones who were trying to move furs downriver.

  “How do you plan to compensate us for this loss?” they cried.

  If Lawrence had also been moving cargo this way, he would have felt much the same. Though he felt bad for the boatmen who were the target of such anger, he did nothing to intervene.

  And the worst part of the entire situation were the people aboard the boats that had been hung up on the wreckage of the sunken ship – particularly a boat roughly triple the size of Ragusa’s that was literally heaped with furs. They were trying to get the furs ashore, and looking at the amount, Lawrence could understand why. Even if there hadn’t been a sunken ship blocking the middle of the river, a small disturbance would have been sufficient to capsize the overloaded vessel.

  A quick search did not reveal whoever was to blame for the situation.

  Lawrence imagined they were hiding in order to avoid criticism, but that hardly seemed cowardly.

  It was no exaggeration to say that in trade, whoever was first to move their goods was the first to profit. That was especially true for seaport towns, where great ships would arrive carrying huge amounts of goods, and it was even said that for ships carrying the same goods, only the first two to arrive would turn any profit.

  A ship sinking in the river was not a common occurrence, so it was a near certainty that it was Eve’s doing – it was the perfect way to guarantee her own profits and the perfect way to cause those following her no end of grief.

  Several merchant-looking men weren’t even complaining, and instead sat dispirited, their heads in their hands, tormented by the uncertainty of whether they would be able to turn their furs into money.

  There was no telling how many of them would be able to maintain their composure.

  It would hardly be surprising if they simply exploded.

  “So… what will happen next?” Col asked, producing a water skin and handing it to Lawrence.

  Col was in no particular hurry to arrive in Kerube; he was simply taking in the scene and asking a question.

  “The river has many owners along its way, and each is responsible for what happens on his section. Most likely the landlord of this section will dispatch horses and men first thing in the morning – with horses pulling, I’m sure they’ll be able to haul the wreck out.”

  “I see…” Col looked hazily at the river’s surface, perhaps imagining the team of horses all attached to the rope.

  Lawrence put the water skin to his lips as he gazed at the wreck, its prow pointing straight up out of the water as though it were about to jump into the air.

  Suddenly he heard footsteps.

  He turned, thinking it might be Holo, but there was Ragusa.

  “Ho, friend! Sorry to make you walk,” said the man with a light wave, which allowed Lawrence to see the palm of his thick hand was swollen and red.

  No doubt getting people and goods ashore with the river so jammed with boats had been a difficult task.

  The effort of getting his boat so close to the shore had certainly taken more effort than his usual work did.

  If even a little bit of the hull was touching the ground, moving the vessel required no ordinary amount of strength.

  “Not at all – I don’t mind walking along the river.”

  “Ha-ha-ha! I’ll take you at your word, then,” a chagrined Ragusa said with a laugh, scratching his face and looking out at the river with a sigh. “This really is the worst luck. I guess they’ll be able to do something about it by tomorrow morning.”

  “Do you think the ship sinking has anything to do with the fur trade?” asked Lawrence. It was natural to think so.

  Thus asked, Ragusa nodded, tousling Col’s hair as the boy stared vaguely out at the river, exhausted. “I reckon so. Still, this is madness. Must be some fool who holds money dearer than their life. They could be strapped to the breaking wheel for this, without so much as a by-your-leave. Terrifying.”

  The breaking wheel was a gruesome form of execution, with victims being tied to a wagon wheel and broken, then left upon a hill to be eaten by the crows, still tied to the wheel.

  Lawrence was confident that Eve would escape, though.

  He even hoped she would safely claim her profits, bearing her no ill will for snatching his own.

  “So what of you lot, then?” asked Ragusa.

  “What do you mean?”

  “If you keep walking down the road, there’s an inn attached to a checkpoint. Of course, it’s no place for a lady to stay the night,” said Ragusa, looking over at Holo.

  Holo, for her part, was chattering happily with a tall woman who looked to be an actress or performer.

  “Right now, the master of that wreck of a ship along with the cargo owner are headed upriver to negotiate with some peddlers. I daresay that food and drink will arrive around sundown, but if you wait for that, you’ll be camping, make no mistake.”

  Lawrence now understood why the ship’s master had been nowhere to be seen.

  “We never expect to have a roof over our heads while traveling. Quite the contrary – we’ll be thankful that it’s solid ground rather than a rocking boat,” answered Lawrence.

  Ragusa winced as if looking at something very bright, then shrugged his muscled shoulders awkwardly.

  He then sighed. “I’m just glad it’s only merchants on the boats. If we’d been carrying mercenaries, this would’ve gone very badly.”

  “Still, some of them seem quite angry.”

  Ragusa laughed. “I’ll take their shouting! Mercenaries will draw their swords first and ask questions later.”

  Perhaps at the casualness with which Ragusa spoke, Col shrank back as though having swallowed a grape pip.

  “Still, whoever sank that ship had best watch their step. I hope Count Bulgar catches them.”

  While Lawrence was inwardly cheering for Eve, he certainly understood Ragusa’s anger.

  But he felt that if he responded to that statement, he might give away his own feelings, so Lawrence changed the subject.

  “Didn’t you have some urgent cargo, as well?”

  The boat carried copper coin.

  Since it was meant to be carried across the sea, its transport plan was stricter than normal cargo.

  “Aye. The plan was to take delivery of the cargo in Lenos, but the merchant was late – so I’m already behind schedule. None of this is my fault, but when I think of what’ll happen once I make it to Kerube, it’s downright depressing.”

  “I’ve carried cargo like that before. It’s nerve-racking,” agreed Lawrence.

  To make a single suit of clothes, it was quiet common for the sourcing of the raw materials, the construction, the dyeing, the tailoring, and the final sale to all be in different towns.

  As it traveled from one merchant to another, one shipper to another, a single hiccup in the process would disrupt the entire chain.

  That sheep’s wool from some far-flung land could cross the ocean to become clothing in another was a miracle by itself – to be able to do it on schedule and at a profit was godlike achievement.

  But it is the way of the world that the impossible is frequently demanded.

  Ragusa’s hardships were hidden.

  “And worse, it’s cargo with a strange history! Did you figure anything out about that?”

  He undoubtedly meant that the number of copper coins headed to the Jean Company in Kerube did not add up.

  If it turned out to be something interesting, Ragusa would probably feel some measure of satisfaction.

  “Unfortunately not.”

  “Well, nobody’s noticed so far. I guess it’s not a question so easily answered.”

  That stood to reason.

  “By the way–” Ragusa began.

  “Yes?”

  The big man cracked his neck and turned back to Lawrence, continuing, �
�Did something happen with your lovely companion?”

  “Wh–”

  Lawrence’s inability to coolly ask “Why would you ask?” was proof enough that something had indeed happened.

  Even the drowsy Col now looked up at Lawrence.

  How did Ragusa know something had happened?

  “Why, I just wondered why she hadn’t come back to you now that things have calmed down a bit – guess I was right,” said Ragusa, and though Col nodded, he seemed a bit shocked. “Come now.” Ragusa continued, “you can’t tell me you didn’t notice after how close you were before. She didn’t seem to want to leave your side for a moment! Am I right?” He directed these last words to Col, who nodded hesitantly.

  Lawrence looked away and shaded his eyes with his hand.

  “Ha-ha-ha!” laughed Ragusa. “Don’t grow up like this fellow, you hear?”

  Lawrence groaned at this final blow, battered by Col’s timid, bewildered reply.

  What would Holo say if she were here?

  Come to think of it, she was probably eavesdropping with those keen ears of hers.

  “So, come now – out with it.”

  “… Huh?”

  “What did you quarrel over? When the wine and food arrives from upstream, things will turn very festive indeed, you know. And this lot is going to have their share of anger to vent once they get some liquor in their bellies. They’ll be a pack of wolves.”

  Ragusa grinned, baring teeth that while crooked were strong enough to chew through even the toughest grass.

  Lawrence’s experiences on his journey had given him the means not to be too flustered by Ragusa’s jokes; however, that he would be unable to speak with Holo during the festivities was a great loss, indeed.

  If nothing else, the fact that the end of the journey was now decided meant he couldn’t afford to waste even a single day with her.