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Spice & Wolf Omnibus

Page 120

by Isuna Hasekura


  His lonely smile as he said this was like that of a child who has realized the trick behind a sleight of hand.

  How would he react if he knew that before his very eyes was a living relative of that same god?

  Lawrence couldn’t help but wonder.

  But when he considered whether Holo would want to show Col her true form, he couldn’t imagine it was so.

  She instead looked at Col with terribly calm eyes.

  “Still, if the Church really is chasing after that bone, what could they be thinking, I wonder?” said Lawrence to Holo, bringing her into the conversation.

  He had noticed Holo’s state, but given the topic, she must have some thoughts on the matter, he reasoned.

  “What are they… thinking?”

  “Right. I mean, if they’re trying to find that bone because it’s genuine, that would confirm the existence of the pagan gods. Surely they won’t do that.”

  “That’s true…” murmured Col, his face blank. “Now that you mention it, that is strange.”

  If it was real, the bone was surely from a wolf like Holo, so its size would be far from ordinary.

  Lawrence’s memory was a bit hazy, but he seemed to remember Ragusa saying something about a hellhound.

  When they found the bone, perhaps they would simply call it something like that and make a religious proclamation of it.

  If it had been a martyred saint, Lawrence could think of any number of ways to use them.

  Just as Lawrence was thinking it over, Col raised his voice uncertainly.

  “Ah, er, maybe–”

  Lawrence looked at the boy; perhaps he had hit upon something. But just then, the circle of men around the fire cried out in laughter; evidently something had been funny.

  And the next moment–

  Krakk – there was the sound of something breaking.

  For a second, he suspected Holo and her ill temper.

  When he cast his gaze at her, Holo was a bit surprised but met his eyes and seemed to have understood Lawrence’s immediate reaction.

  She smacked his shoulder.

  “Wh-what was that…?” Col murmured, terrified despite having only just declared his skepticism over the existence of gods.

  Perhaps the conversation had gotten to him.

  Religious faith is not so easily lost – Holo seemed pleased to see this and looked about to laugh.

  There was no sound for a moment after that, and the men around the fire, having all got to their feet, began to sit back down, and a few of them looked at Lawrence and the rest and shrugged.

  What had it been? Everyone wondered the same thing. And then–

  Again – krak, kreak – the breaking sounds continued, now noticeably louder, as though something was splintering.

  The river.

  Just when the thought hit Lawrence, there came the sound of creaking lumber and then a great and audible splash.

  Col got to his feet.

  Lawrence was on one knee as he looked at the river.

  “The boats!” cried the men who’d been drinking around the fire.

  His gaze soon slipped to the river’s surface.

  What he saw was the gallant form of a large ship as there in the moonlight it seemed to be making its departure.

  “Ahoy! Somebody–!”

  The men who had been drinking around the fire all shot to their feet, but not a one of them took action.

  Perhaps they were all merchants and travelers. Lawrence also stood, and Col started to run, but after taking three or four steps, he realized he didn’t know what action he would actually take and stopped short.

  It was clear that the boat was about to float down the river, and it was equally clear that it had to be stopped.

  But Lawrence didn’t know how.

  Just then, a voice called out.

  “Protect the ship!”

  At the sound of that voice, the boatmen who had been sleeping scattered about like so much cow dung now jumped to their feet.

  All of them ran for the river, as though having dealt with this sort of thing more than a few times.

  Despite having been drunk not long ago, most of the boatmen’s strides were steady and confident.

  The first among them to reach the boats moored at the river’s edge were Ragusa and another man.

  They strode directly into the water, raising a splash, pushing against the hull with ox-like strength.

  Ragusa boarded first, followed by the other man.

  Shortly behind them, the rest took the next best course of action, jumping into the river with a moment’s hesitation and swimming toward the anchored boats.

  The big ship was slowly but surely being pushed over the other, sunken vessel and would soon be swept downstream.

  The sunken hulk, after so many attempts by Lawrence and the rest to haul it ashore, must have grown fragile and given way.

  And now it was being crushed under the other ship’s weight.

  If the ship was swept away, it would almost certainly run aground at the next meander or sandbar.

  And there would be other vessels anchored farther downstream, as well.

  If a smaller boat happened to be struck, even a child could tell you what would happen.

  But the reason the boatmen plunged into the crisis like well-trained knights seemed less for fear of the actual consequences and more to simply protect their good names as boatmen. If they let the same ship run aground twice, it would destroy their reputations.

  Col took another two or three steps, perhaps drawn forth by Ragusa’s bravery.

  Lawrence gulped as he watched the developing situation.

  After all, the ship was one that required four or five rowers. He didn’t think it would be easily stopped.

  But unlike the rest of the onlookers, Lawrence was not simply staring at the sight.

  Next to him was Holo, who murmured, “Do you really not understand?”

  “Huh?”

  For a moment, he thought she was talking about the ship, but then he realized that wasn’t it – she was referring to the reason the Church was searching for those bones.

  “Do you understand?” he asked back.

  A cry went out.

  When he looked, he saw that Ragusa had with admirable skill managed to get his boat alongside the runaway ship, and the other boatman had jumped aboard the larger vessel and taken up its pole.

  But it did not seem like it would stop. In the moonlight, that pole seemed impossibly thin and fragile.

  He thought he could hear Ragusa’s nervously clicking tongue.

  “I do understand, in fact,” replied Holo. “Just as you live by traveling and selling, I lived on the people’s faith.” Her sharp words were the proof of her displeasure.

  Lawrence didn’t know why she was angry.

  But he knew that her anger had something to do with the Church.

  “The reason I so hated being called a god was the way people kept me at a distance, gazing on me from afar. They feared, respected, and were grateful for my slightest move. I was treated with constant and terrible caution. So if you consider the opposite of that…”

  “No!” someone called out.

  Ragusa’s boat had circled ahead of the ship. If the boatmen tried to encircle the ship and stop it that way, they could easily wind up sinking themselves.

  There was the dull sound of hull hitting hull. All who watched the scene held their breath, fists clenched tight.

  Ragusa’s boat rocked violently. Surely it would capsize at any moment. Despite the tense atmosphere on the shore, Lawrence looked back at Holo.

  He understood what she was trying to say.

  “Surely that bone, they won’t–”

  Then came the sound of a great wave crashing.

  After several moments that seemed like an eternity, the ship visibly slowed and seemed to come to a stop.

  It was safe for the nonce.

  The realization spread, along with a great cheer.

 
Aboard the ship, Ragusa raised both hands in triumph.

  Yet Lawrence could take no pleasure in it.

  His mouth was filled with the vulgarity of the Church’s actions.

  “That’s right. Suppose they find a bone they know is real, then crush it under their foot? We can’t simply devour the fools until we’re bones ourselves. We’ll have to content ourselves with being subjugated. There will be no miracles. And what will the people who see us think? They’ll think this–”

  Soon the trailing boats caught up with the big ship, and several more boatmen climbed aboard and tossed ropes out.

  Lawrence felt he was witnessing the indescribable solidarity of men who worked together.

  He longed to be among their sudden celebration.

  “–They’ll think, ‘Oh, look at this thing we so used to fear – ’tis not such a great thing, after all.’”

  It would be a more effective demonstration of the greatness of the Church’s god than ten thousand words of sermon.

  Lawrence found himself impressed at the calculation of this – only the Church, having fought the pagans for centuries, would consider such a thing.

  But that bone might well have belonged to someone Holo knew – in the worst case, even a relative.

  And this was Holo, who found herself conflicted by the fur trade.

  But there was a difference between trading in fur and symbolically crushing this bone.

  Her eyes quivered not because she wanted to weep, but rather out of rage.

  “So, what think you?” she asked.

  There amid the sounds of drums and flutes, Ragusa and his comrades tied the boats together with practiced motions, setting about the task of mooring them once again.

  Each man was skilled enough that no conscious thought was required and performed his task with logical ease.

  The Church was just as practiced in the manipulation of faith.

  They would use whatever tools they had to spread it.

  “I think – I think it’s awful…” said Lawrence.

  “Fool,” said Holo, stepping on his foot.

  The pain he felt told him just how angry Holo was.

  “I’m not asking you of the morality of this. You’re just like the Ch–”

  Holo stopped herself short, but before she could apologize, Lawrence stepped on her foot, his face serious and inclined just so.

  “That’s payback,” his expression said.

  Holo bit her lip before continuing, partially to calm herself and partially out of frustration at her own verbal misstep. “… What I mean is, what do you think of the story that they’re after the bone? Do you think it is true?”

  “Half and half.”

  Holo looked at him, pained perhaps at the shortness of his answer.

  She might have been regretting making him angry for no good reason.

  “I mean, my immediate guess is half and half. Stories like this are common as the way Col was deceived during his studies.” Lawrence motioned with his chin at Col.

  Col, along with the rest of the onlookers, was cheering Ragusa and the other boatmen.

  His innocent figure looked not dissimilar to Holo’s, as he was still wearing her robe.

  “Well, it’s hardly half and half, then, is it?” said Holo.

  “Yes, but I know that beings like you exist. That eliminates the possibility of the most common idle gossip. So, half and half. That it’s a rumor at all is because there’s a trading firm involved. Whether it’s really in Rupi, we don’t know. That the Church came to Rupi is only true so long as Col isn’t lying.”

  Ragusa and the other boatmen’s labors seemed to have concluded.

  They all piled aboard Ragusa’s boat with a few energetic ones diving into the water and swimming ashore.

  The remaining wood was lavishly thrown on the dwindling fire and wine toward the returned heroes.

  “What say you to this–?”

  “Mm?”

  Holo’s hand entwined with Lawrence’s.

  She seemed to think that putting on a show of teasing him was necessary when she had a favor to ask.

  “Let us continue our easy travels, and when we find Yoitsu, say our good-byes. What think you?”

  Lawrence had to laugh at how easily she broached the subject.

  Holo dug her fingernails angrily into his hand.

  This was going just a bit too far.

  When she was so frank about it, he couldn’t very well accuse her of not being honest.

  Lawrence took a deep breath, then exhaled. “Don’t ask me a thing like that. What did I say when I came to pick you up?”

  Holo looked away and did not answer.

  Unbelievably, she seemed shy.

  “There is the salvation that it may all turn out to be a mere rumor. If it’s captured your interest, I don’t mind.”

  “And what if there is no such salvation?” She was not called a wisewolf for nothing.

  Words were her playthings.

  Lawrence lightened his tone still further. “If it’s true, we won’t come away unscathed.”

  “Because of my anger?”

  Lawrence closed his eyes.

  The moment he opened them, he saw the excited Col looking back at them. The boy seemed to notice their strangely subdued state.

  He hastily looked ahead, as though having seen something he knew he shouldn’t have.

  “Such items are unbelievably highly priced as a rule. The Church often brings its authority to bear in such matters, as well.”

  He looked at Holo next to him.

  Lawrence knew that Col was looking at them over his shoulder.

  But he didn’t particularly care.

  “Despite your morals, it’s a valuable item that affects the Church’s credibility. If we get involved, we won’t come away from it unhurt.”

  Holo smiled, bringing her free hand up to chest level and waving.

  Lawrence saw Col hastily look away.

  Holo slowly lowered her hand.

  “To come out and just say it, I’m going digging for bones. I won’t force you to come along.”

  Now she was being unfair.

  Lawrence brought his free hand up and smacked Holo’s head lightly. “Unlike you, I’d prefer our book to be a long one.”

  “… In truth?”

  While the idea of the journey ending by growing old and passing in his sleep had a certain appeal, there was something that was quite painful for him.

  And it was all the more so when the encounters and travels had been so eventful.

  Why did people gather to celebrate and dance at the end of the year or at the harvest?

  Lawrence felt like he understood now.

  “Stories are better when they have an ending, are they not?”

  “Even if there’s danger?”

  Lawrence shook his head.

  He was no wild youth, after all.

  “Of course, I’d prefer to avoid danger if possible.”

  Holo grinned triumphantly. “I’m Holo the Wisewolf!”

  It was a foolish thing, he thought.

  If there really was a trading company searching for the bone and the Church was truly after it, then it was not something an individual merchant could hope to affect.

  And yet, Lawrence thought.

  His travels with Holo would not be some weakly strained paste that left the stomach empty and grumbling. They had to be like beef, thickly cut and smeared generously with spices.

  Holo smiled softly and walked ahead.

  She tapped the eavesdropping Col on his head, then walked with him toward Ragusa and the rest.

  Lawrence followed slowly after them.

  The moon hung there in the sky, and the pleasantly cold air stirred at the hearty laughing of the boatmen.

  The turning point of their journey was a lovely night, indeed.

  Lawrence took a deep breath.

  Though Holo might be angry to find out, he did not much care whether the tale was true.

>   There was something more important than that.

  “…”

  For having found a reason to continue forward, he wanted to thank the moon.

  Epilogue

  Early morning.

  Lawrence awoke when the light touched his cheek, the moment the sun showed its face above the horizon.

  At least, that’s what it felt like, but when he opened his eyes, he realized that what was actually touching his face was Holo’s breathing as she slept.

  The sleeping Holo, curled up in the blanket, would occasionally pop her head out from under it, perhaps coming up for breath.

  When Lawrence looked at her, her cheek was a bit damp, proof that she had emerged from the blanket only a moment ago.

  It was like uncooked bread dough.

  Particularly in the way it would flare up at a moment’s notice.

  But was it his imagination that her sleeping face looked even more innocent than it normally did?

  She didn’t just look relaxed – her face conveyed a certain self-confidence, as though she wouldn’t possibly be having any bad dreams. Even her singed bangs seemed like a badge of honor, as though she were a brave knight that had fearlessly returned from a blazing castle.

  No – that was going a bit too far.

  Lawrence grinned at his folly, then yawned. His dry, cold skin complained loudly, and his eyes opened with a sensation like a membrane of ice cracking.

  Today would be another clear day.

  Eventually Holo’s face twitched, her eyes still closed, and she squirmed around underneath the blanket.

  After the ship had been stopped from being washed downriver, there was talk of having an all-night celebration, but the boatmen knew their jobs too well.

  Drinking all night long and then piloting boats downriver the next day was too great a danger.

  They indulged in just a bit of merrymaking before going to bed, without even time enough for their clothes to dry.

  Since there were so many furs that had been brought ashore, even with wet clothes there were no worries of being warm enough to sleep soundly.

  A few of the biggest and strongest men had stripped naked and surrounded themselves with furs in order to keep warm most efficiently; their sleeping forms were a sight to behold. Holo’s words (“I don’t quite know what to make of that sight”) were most apt.

 

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