Spice & Wolf Omnibus

by Isuna Hasekura

  Lawrence had heard similar talk when he had visited in the past, so perhaps it was a common topic.

  However, thinking about it simply suggested that expanding the delta marketplace would increase the traffic of merchants and goods, which in turn would increase the taxes the town collected, so it seemed as if there would be little to discuss and that everyone would agree.

  Of course, things were not so simple, so the debate went on and on – and in such cases, the interests of the people in power reigned supreme.

  Lawrence brought his ale to his lips, gazing at the men at the tables with a wry smile, wondering just what sort of greed-stained play was about to be performed.

  Just then, something else suddenly caught his eye, and in that instant, the gull sitting atop the central pylon flew away.

  Immediately thereafter – or perhaps immediately before – the sound of a bell ringing echoed sharply across the plaza, and the surrounding chatter swiftly fell silent.

  When Lawrence looked at the tables placed at the edge of the spring, the participants in the discussion there had all risen, extending their right hands and proclaiming the beginning of the meeting.

  “In the name of the great spirit of the river, Roam!”

  They then took their seats, and the three guards looked up into the sky and shook their spears three times.

  It was full of as much pomp as the council of wise men of the ancient empire, but it was probably necessary in order to give the meeting the authority it needed.

  Lawrence could guess how often someone had tried to question the council’s authority.

  If the meeting lacked the authority to set town policy, the town would quickly descend into civil unrest. It would be like a mercenary troop without a commander.

  A nation was no different, which was why kings claimed their right to rule to be bestowed by God.

  Lawrence took another swig of ale. “Seems like things are hard everywhere,” he couldn’t help murmuring, a wry smile on his face.

  “You think so, too, eh?”

  Lawrence nearly spit out his ale at the sudden, unexpected reply to his idle statement.

  He hurriedly turned to face the direction from which the voice had emanated, and it was the one person he had not spied at the meeting – Eve.

  “Why so startled? It’s as though you’ve something to hide.”

  From behind the scarf wrapped about her head, her eyes smiled faintly.

  “… Merchants keep their secrets and their coins tucked safely away in their purses, after all.”

  “I’d like to take mine to the grave, if I can.”

  “Quite right.” Lawrence slumped exaggeratedly, which Eve laughed at like a carefree town lass. “So, what business might you have with a gossipy traveling merchant like me?”

  “Such cheek. I doubt I’ll ever forget your hands closing around my throat so long as I live.”

  It was hard for Lawrence to hear.

  But even the grandest general had quarreled with someone as a child and come home crying.

  “And here I thought you’d be over there sitting in one of those seats.”

  “That ceremony? If there was anything to be gained from that, I’d pray to God a little more often,” declared Eve, turning her narrowed eyes to the spring’s edge.

  Lawrence openly regarded Eve’s profile but could not guess her real intention.

  Was her talkativeness thanks to a good mood or a bad one?

  If Eve were a wolf like Holo, it would surely be the latter, Lawrence thought to himself.

  He heard a loud cough from the edge of the spring, which was followed by the formal declaration of the topic.

  “The meeting’s started.”

  Just as the liquor-swilling merchants beside them had predicted, the meeting regarded the expansion of the delta marketplace.

  The man who pronounced the topic was one of the same well-dressed men who had disembarked from the boat with Eve, and he seemed accustomed to public speaking.

  “It’s not quite a farce, but a meeting’s conclusion always comes from somewhere outside the participants, don’t you think?”

  Lawrence’s reply to Eve was delayed thanks to a feeling not unlike envy that came over him. “… So, you’re saying they’ve entrusted their under-the-table dealings to you.”

  Eve sighed and shrugged. “Not to put too fine a point on it.”

  “I’m wondering why you’d bother idling around with me, then,” said Lawrence, debating whether he had let more envy than was necessary color his voice but deciding that this small amount of covetousness would be forgiven.

  After all, winning the trust of powerful town officials was an almost blindingly brilliant honor for a lowly traveling merchant.

  Yet the moment Eve heard Lawrence’s words, he was surprised to see her gape in apparent surprise.

  It hadn’t been that surprising, he thought – but then noticed that Eve’s gaze had returned to the meeting.

  Apparent representatives of the north and south were exchanging words, but with seemingly less vigor than they should have been, even appearing rather silly.

  Lawrence looked back at Eve a moment after her surprise.

  And when he saw Eve’s face, she was smiling as she had been when she looked at Col, Lawrence thought to himself – but then he thought better of it.

  It was the same expression she had worn when they each put their lives on the line in Lenos, the town of lumber and fur.

  “If I said it made me happy you were honestly envious, would you laugh?”

  Lawrence understood the reason why her eyes were fixed on the meeting immediately before her.

  He doubted there was a wolf anywhere that was honest or obedient.

  “I’d laugh, all right.”

  Merchants to a one spent their days hiding their true motives, always trying to deceive one another for their own profit.

  If he were to obey that near instinct, the correct course would be for Lawrence to try to read Eve’s mood and see if he could get in on whatever under-the-table deal she was conducting. Envy was a secondary priority, and letting that envy show was not even a consideration.

  And yet if a merchant’s acquaintances were all other merchants, that unavoidably meant that they were all also hiding their true motives and trying to take whatever advantage they could.

  And even a legendary hero needed a break sometimes.

  So Lawrence’s insensitive admission of his own envy had actually made this wolf happy.

  Eve looked down in self-deprecation, and when she looked back up, her eyes were as clear as melted snow.

  “I was right to spot you and call you over. The truth is, I was rather melancholy about having been summoned by that lot.” Eve indicated the meeting with irritation.

  “It won’t make you any money?” inquired Lawrence, and even with the scarf she was wearing, he could tell her mouth twisted into a sneer.

  “I played with fire in Lenos and on the Roam River, but yes, that’s one of the reasons I could breathe a little easier once I entered Kerube.”

  A political patron. Or a backer with sufficient wealth to put her beyond the ability of local lords to arrest.

  Either way, they would hardly consider Eve an equal.

  Such people existed, even for traveling merchants who prided themselves on their independence.

  Despite having fallen into poverty, she had a noble name and had dragged herself up from the depths, yet there was no telling how many burdens she still carried.

  When Lawrence and company met her in front of the town entrance, Eve paid them proper respect, but he realized, seeing her now, that it might not have been so simple a thing.

  “I’m sort of a mercenary for them, but they’ve ordered me to do something essentially impossible. Do you know the story behind this marketplace?”

  Presented with such a tale, Lawrence shook his head without a trace of pride.

  “Scores of years ago, it was a group of merchants from the south
who proposed the marketplace because they wanted a place to trade with the north. However, the landowners were a little short on wisdom and thought that if they sold the land, it would be a huge loss, so they bragged they would construct their own market. Even if it drove them into a deep debt.”

  “The landholders were from the north. The moneylenders were from the south.”

  Eve pushed aside her scarf and took a couple drafts of her ale, then set her cup back down. “Yes. The men over there are the sons of the ones who borrowed the money and those who lent it. In exchange for not losing the land and receiving exorbitant rent for its use, they wind up paying an equivalent amount of interest. Of course, the landowners cannot hide their irritation at this and are constantly looking for a way out.”

  “But they haven’t found one.”

  Eve nodded, and her eyes turned cold and appraising, as if she could count how many silver coins a human life was worth. “So, what will the second generation look for next? The answer is simple: a scapegoat.”

  Eve’s face was as still as the surface of a lake.

  She was certainly trying to become a merchant prince, but right now she was only a modestly wealthy trader.

  She did use others – she was used by them.

  Eve had been told to overturn the problem surrounding the north side, the south side, and their marketplace – which she knew perfectly well was impossible for anyone.

  But she was not expected to successfully solve the problem, rather to shoulder the blame for failing to do so, thereby acting as the unlucky distraction, which would take attention off the landlords’ own grievances.

  Lawrence found himself wishing, as someone once bested by Eve, for her triumph.

  “Still, I don’t have a monopoly on misfortune. You saw Reynolds’s place, didn’t you?” asked Eve nonchalantly. That Lawrence’s strengths and hers were so different was surely because the oceans they had traversed were so different.

  “Yes… it was shabbier than I expected.”

  “Hah. At least be a little more circumspect about it. But even a place that deals only in copper exports has its profit swallowed up by the powers that be. That’s the sort of place this is.”

  There was no place as pitiful as one with no money and only power.

  It was the truth of the world that the wealthy never quarreled.

  “But I mustn’t get you involved in any trouble. I’m off to negotiate, I suppose.”

  Eve thanked Lawrence for the ale and started to walk away.

  Lawrence could not help but to call out to her receding form. “I had no problems hearing the story of the wolf remains!”

  Eve looked back, her expression unchanging, then resumed her previous direction and kept walking.

  But Lawrence was fairly certain that the faint smile he had detected beneath her scarf had not been his imagination.

  Eve’s actions had been entirely purposeful.

  As though she had wanted him to call out.

  Unlike the rest of the merchants, Lawrence did not watch the tables, instead continuing to follow Eve’s back as she receded.

  Eventually, at quite a distance from the crowd, she hailed a group of eccentric-seeming merchants who, judging by their clothes, seemed to be from the south.

  And just as Eve was with the north, they were surely the merchant mercenaries working for the south.

  Lawrence was sure that if he asked their names and affiliations, he would feel some sense of affinity for them, but still he could not help but cheer for Eve.

  In Lenos, the town of lumber and fur, he witnessed Eve’s preparedness and her willingness to risk her own life, and on the Roam River, he had to tip his hat to her thorough use of every possible method to attain her goal.

  And yet when circumstances changed, she was the one being used.

  Of course, in exchange for being so used, she surely profited herself.

  But Lawrence thought he could understand Eve, who could so easily leave Lenos, where she had cut deeply into Church authority, and Kerube, where she was well connected to the powers that be, in order to get herself and her furs south.

  She was not some hero who would cleave the world open with naught but her sword and her hand, but rather an ordinary merchant who occasionally had to sip her share of mud.

  “A merchant can never play the leading role,” held a famous merchant’s saying.

  Lawrence was glad Holo was not with him, he realized a few moments later.

  And he was glad he had ordered ale instead of wine, he thought after peering into the bottom of the cup.

  His own face was surely rather pathetic at the moment.

  Holo’s rage came from the Church subjecting the remains of the wolf-god to terrible treatment in the name of missionary work, but such incidents were probably not rare.

  Lawrence was not like Reynolds of the Jean Company, but he hoped he would only bring beautiful memories to the grave.

  Lawrence murmured as much inwardly, then looked back at the ongoing meeting as its artificial bickering continued, and he swallowed a bitter sigh with a drink of ale.

  By reputation, the delta marketplace was a captivating microcosm of the world, holding goods from scores of nations. On the winds that blew through it were carried dozens of languages, it was said.

  But Lawrence could not deny that hearing and seeing were very different things, as the feeling he got on first setting foot in the marketplace was similar to the impression he had upon first seeing the Jean Company.

  Goods were not piled high the way they were in markets that were only open a few days out of the year, and there were neither people visiting for business, nor hawkers trying to pry loose coins from the travelers who were stopping in the market midway through their journeys.

  The marketplace was choked with crowds, but a close inspection of the shops that were lined up revealed that establishments with actual goods on display were few. Instead, they merely hung signs for goods in amounts far exceeding what someone would need in their daily lives, and without speaking to the shopkeeper, no samples were shown.

  Lawrence had wanted to try some foreign food, but the marketplace was so crowded that no space for friendly drinking and relaxation could exist. For drink, there were only a few shops selling ale and wine in bulk.

  Business required an atmosphere of excitement, of vigor – not confusion and violence.

  For that reason, the number of taverns was controlled, and the sights of soldiers on guard with arms on their belts were not rare.

  All this meant that there were a limited number of places for Lawrence to go, which any clever person would have realized after a quick circuit through the crowded marketplace.

  Instead of Lawrence finding his companion, then, it was more accurate to say that the merchant was found by her.

  Reasoning that Holo and Col would be amusing themselves in their way, after having his fill of watching the town’s movers and shakers perform their little farce, Lawrence arrived at a first-floor tavern in search of Holo.

  Just as he was deciding whether or not to open the door, a voice called out to him from above.

  “Come, you.”

  Lawrence did not reply but pushed the tavern’s door open in a long-suffering manner.

  The words that he uttered immediately upon entering the small second-floor room, containing the source of the voice that so blithely called out to him, were not entirely sarcastic. “You’re certainly living it up.”

  “Am I? We’ve but used the silver coin you gave us.”

  There was a table and chair next to the window, but Holo sat on the windowsill, drinking.

  Though she was clearly visible from the street outside, her ears and tail were exposed to the world. She was either drunk or confident that she would not be recognized.

  “Using a whole trenni on wine without a single hesitation is simply… well, I’ll have to explain it to you sooner or later.” Lawrence picked up a small cask that had been left on the floor, empty, and too
k a whiff, sighing.

  Having a discerning palate while also being a big eater and drinker was a bad combination.

  “Where’s Col?”

  There were plates that had clearly once held some kind of meat dish on the table, so perhaps he’d been sent out to buy more.

  “Just what you’re thinking.” Evidently the wine was keeping Holo warm, as she seemed to find the cold air that came through the window quite pleasant.

  “Honestly… don’t drive him too hard now.”

  Lawrence picked up the wine cask that was on the table and sat on the little bed with which the small room had been provided.

  It was a poorly made bed to be sure, but to those used to traveling like livestock in the cramped conditions of a ship, it was as fine as any royal canopy bed.

  Of course, if relaxing in a room like this with a cup of wine in one hand was all most people needed to feel better once they were released onto dry land after being packed into a ship’s hold, then there’d be no need for the Church’s sermons.

  Holo had probably rented the room without knowing any of this, and once she did become aware of it, she seemed vaguely uncomfortable.

  “So, did you hear anything new?” she asked while facing out, her head cocked against the windowpane and her eyes closed, the breeze caressing her cheek.

  She seemed to be listening to the tones of a lute that drifted in from outside or possibly to be thinking about something.

  A closer look revealed that her ears were minutely twitching in time to the sound, so it had to be the former.

  “Does it look like I did?” Lawrence took a drink of the sweet wine, which was perfectly suited for relaxation.

  “Aye. You seem pleased.”

  Though her eyes were still closed, it was as though she could still see right through him.

  Lawrence rubbed his face and smiled sheepishly. “Pleased?”

  Though he was confident he had erased all traces of his conversation with Eve from his expression, Holo’s reluctantly opened eyes had a certain mean smile in them. “You’re a century too young to try lying to me.”

  For a moment, Lawrence wondered if she had somehow overheard his conversation at the spring all the way from here but quickly realized that was not the case.