Col and Lawrence sniffed deliberately, and Holo turned to face them, a lonely look in her eyes. Col seemed to understand her meaning and hurried to come up with something to say but failed to find the words.
Lawrence put his hand on the boy’s head. “Just a bad joke,” he said, looking at Holo, who turned away without a hint of self-reflection about her.
“Well, if that’s how big it is and this is the extent of the guards they’ve posted…” mused Holo in a still softer voice as she looked around the room.
Evidently her proposal to simply take the narwhal and escape – what she’d originally encouraged Lawrence to do – had not been entirely academic.
“Wasn’t that just a hypothetical plan?”
Holo smiled maliciously and cocked her head. “If your fear could always be curbed by hypothetical notions, ’twould make things easier for me.”
“…”
It was true there was nothing wrong with knowing they could steal the narwhal whenever they wanted.
“The problem is from whence to enter.”
“What about breaking through the front door?”
“It could be difficult if that door were shut tight.”
Lawrence thought back to those iron-reinforced doors.
In point of fact, the church housed many valuable items, and during wartime, it would be the first place attacked and the last where townspeople could make their stand.
The front entrance had surely been constructed to withstand siege weapons.
Even for Holo, it would be difficult to breach.
“What about through that?” Col pointed to the stained-glass window positioned above the narwhal. A wall of colored glass.
It was constructed to let in light, but given Holo’s great size, she would need an entrance about as large.
“We’d be cursed for trying,” said Lawrence, which made Holo’s throat rumble in amusement.
“Heh-heh. It might feel rather nice to smash through that and leap in here.”
Terrifyingly, there was no hint of jest in her voice.
“That might be the only way in, but that glass is built that way so as to keep the wall from collapsing. If we just destroy it, we could be in real trouble.”
“Hmm?” Holo and Col, who had been giggling conspiratorially, looked up in unison.
“When a building gets this large, you can’t just make it entirely out of stone. The weight is too much, and the structure can’t hold itself up; it’ll collapse. So you make part of it out of glass, which is lighter, to avoid that. If you look carefully, you can see the iron rods supporting the joists. If we break those, things could get bad.”
The fact that all sanctuaries had stained-glass windows out of sheer necessity was rather disappointing – it felt somehow sad that even the Church’s buildings were not exempt from the rules of the world.
“We shall worry about that when the time comes,” said Holo, sighing impatiently before continuing on. “If you would work a bit harder, I’d not have to bear so much of the danger.”
It was true.
Lawrence could only look away in shame. Col smiled slightly and said, “I know you can do it, Mr. Lawrence,” which Holo found amusing.
“Well, let’s hurry back. Father Natole will get suspicious.”
“Mm.”
“All right!”
The two answered simultaneously, but Lawrence, worried, put the question to them again. “Do you really not want to have a closer look?”
“I’m fine,” said Col, looking a touch scared.
A troubled Holo replied, “I care not.”
Both of them seemed frightened in more ways than one.
And even Lawrence felt something that made it hard to approach the strange, one-horned beast.
He could not say that he did not understand why Natole would have begged off entering the sanctuary. The narwhal was a creature spoken of only in myths that proclaimed that its flesh granted long life and that medicine made from its horn cured disease. But here it was, real. And one thing was certain – the legends were well deserved.
They would have to prepare themselves.
But now that they knew Holo was capable of breaching the church, she would never let Lawrence turn tail.
They expressed their thanks to Natole, and once he had closed the doors of the church behind him, Lawrence could not help but speak up.
“It certainly had an aura befitting the legends. No wonder it’s captured the minds of so many people.”
Natole closed the door’s bar with a loud clunk and then turned around with his face full of fright. “It’s a terrifying thing, truly.”
There was no question that the narwhal’s presence put the Church in a bad position.
The people of the Church claimed God as their ally and were thus feared by many. But there were surely people in the world who did not fear God.
Turning a living legend like the narwhal into money meant treating it no differently than the many other goods in which they traded.
To have sufficient nerve to do such a thing, it was as if they lived in another world.
Once they were back on the crowded avenue, Lawrence finally felt able to take a deep breath.
“Still,” Lawrence said, standing proudly and looking at Holo next to him. “I suppose I’ve used you to bargain with myself.”
Given that she was unable to actually read minds, Holo probably would not see the connection Lawrence’s words were drawing. But the wisewolf appeared to quickly grasp the conflict to which Lawrence was alluding. She grinned despite Col’s wide-eyed surprise at the confession that Lawrence had put Holo in hock.
“So we’ve naught to fear, do we?” she said, moving her body closer as they passed through the crowds. She slipped her hand into his, and indeed, there was nothing more fear inspiring than that.
Lawrence smiled, looking at Col with a sigh. “Looks like our wisewolf speaks the truth.”
Col nodded, looked back and forth between Holo and Lawrence and – amusingly – nodded again.
It was evening when Kieman again came knocking at their door, and Lawrence and company were in the middle of dinner.
Just as expected, the meal the inn had provided was a grand one, and Holo was properly joyous while Col occasionally choked on his food.
But the fact that Kieman called upon them in the evening was proof that he did not consider them mere fools – because the best time to approach a troublesome opponent is either to wake them up or to interrupt their meal.
“Would you care to join us?” offered Lawrence as he brushed bread crumbs off his hands. Kieman raised both hands with a smile.
“I’ll pass,” he answered. “If possible, I’d like to speak with you outside, Mr. Lawrence.”
Lawrence had no intention of refusing such an offer.
He gave Col and Holo a look, then stood and went with Kieman into the hallway.
Simply having Col there so Holo was not alone during her meal was a big help, although if Lawrence was to tell her that, she would give him quite a look indeed.
“So, about the topic at hand,” began Kieman as soon as they had entered another room. Lawrence initially wondered if it was a storage room, but it seemed that it was a space Kieman had reserved for private contemplation. It was candlelit, and there were stacks of rolled-up maps, all of which were lettered in writing Lawrence had never seen before.
“We wish to ask you, Mr. Lawrence, to act as our messenger.”
Was he using the first-person plural simply to intimidate, or were there actually multiple parties?
Lawrence decided to conduct his negotiations standing, like a proper traveling merchant would. “Might I ask the reason for that?”
“Naturally. To be blunt, originally this duty was not yours.”
Of course it wasn’t.
“Initially we’d intended to use Ted Reynolds, master of the Jean Company – you’re familiar with it, yes? – to convey our intentions. The reason was–”
“–He wanted to escape the manipulations of the north.”
Kieman nodded and continued. “He contacted us, and using him would allow us to profit in the copper trade. So he was our first choice. Moreover, his connections to the Bolan family are quite strong. He controls the whole import-export trade of it on the Roam River, probably given his ties with the wolf.”
Lawrence immediately remembered the salt trade.
If the Jean Company was shipping copper coins to the Winfiel kingdom, it would not be surprising if he was receiving salt statues in return. In which case, there was another way to interpret Reynolds’s nervous visit the previous night. He had been worrying about the source of his greatest profit.
Quite likely he expected Kieman and the others on the south side to call on him, but he had been mistaken. And when he asked why, he would have soon realized that they had found a more convenient individual. He must have been trying to play the conflict between the north and south to his own coin purse’s advantage. If so, it was possible that his shameful, nervous act the previous night had just been part of his plan.
The sad shape of his receding form was likely proof of how pathetic he found himself for resorting to such ploys.
“Our goal is this: By using the narwhal, we wish to gain full ownership of the northern district.”
“But without allowing them to use the resulting profit to then control the entire town.”
Kieman nodded.
It seemed he was thinking of something very similar to what Eve had proposed.
But that did not mean that Eve was particularly incredible or that Kieman’s imagination was lacking.
In circumstances when one could not absolutely trust one’s partner but still had to sit down at the table and negotiate with them, following such a plan was the most reasonable course of action.
Given that, Lawrence finally felt he understood why Eve had called on him.
In this particular situation, someone who did not understand the links between the north and south side would be unsuitable.
The only way the two parties could negotiate on an equal level was if their mediator was equally likely to betray either side. After that, it was simply a fight to sway that mediator.
“A man in one of the northern landlord families is infatuated with the head of the Bolan house. We must use this. So long as the head of the Bolan family does not betray us, we can ensure a good outcome both for her and ourselves… but we do not know how this will play out yet.”
Lawrence was well aware that Eve’s situation was a complicated one. There was no telling what she might employ. She was like an alchemist’s kettle.
“The messenger might well be our ally or, depending on circumstances, could change his allegiance to the other side. That is the sort of person we need. Otherwise, the wolf of the Roam River will be too cautious to approach us. Of course, we must ensure that we ultimately triumph, so our strategy must be a fool-proof one… and sadly, the goods in question are easily spoiled.”
It was a living narwhal, after all.
“What do you want me to do specifically?”
Kieman cleared his throat. He closed his eyes as if reviewing the entire plan.
“We literally wish you to convey messages for us. We do not trust her, nor does the wolf trust us. But we trust you, and she does as well. You need only bring our proposal to them: The condition of the narwhal. The price. The method of delivery. The time. Or possibly the contingencies for escape. You’ll carry that information to them and then bring their replies back to us.”
“And the profit?”
Kieman grinned, his canines strangely prominent behind his thin lips. “I’d like this to result in the Rowen Trade Guild becoming the preeminent guild on the south side. The current guild house chief, Jeeta, has become complacent – I’ll replace him. And the resulting profit…” He paused for effect like an actor. “… I’ll leave that to your imagination.”
Instead of hauling goods by himself, selling them in person with his own words, that work was left to others and the profits simply piled up in the ledger.
It was like another world. A transformation from merchant to something completely different.
In receiving a small share of that, the profit that would fall from the sky would be astounding.
“Of course, this is a mere verbal promise, which means the wolf has a chance to sway you to her side.”
“Indeed. And she could offer me concrete profit, no doubt.”
That is, she was able to swindle everyone so spectacularly that she gained the narwhal for herself. Eve, the former noblewoman, could then sell it off to the highest bidder. It was quite possible that she would then be able to offer him a sea of gold coins as compensation.
“I’d prefer not to have to deal with the wolf, but without doing so, there’s no chance for success at all. She’s simply that powerful.”
Kieman’s words were heavy with meaning.
It was already clear that the landlord’s son who was so infatuated with Eve would not betray his family solely for his own gain. But if it was for Eve, that was another story.
Excuses were very powerful things.
And when the reason was love, even a dwarf could defeat a dragon.
“Understood, then. I believe I see my role in all of this.” Lawrence smiled, and Kieman returned the expression.
An exchange of smiles signified the conclusion of a secret deal. It was so in all the legends of clandestine, nervous dealings – bearded merchants snickering to each other over their successes.
“I’m glad to hear that. However…”
“However?” asked Lawrence, which made Kieman smile like a guileless boy.
“However, I truly thought I’d had you completely under my control. How… how did you regain your footing?”
At these words, Lawrence smiled and looked at the floor.
It was true, after all.
At the branch office on the delta, Lawrence had been completely trapped by Kieman – utterly and perfectly, like a puppet.
And yet after only a short time, the puppet had regained its soul. No wonder the puppet master was surprised.
Of course, Kieman himself ought to have some notion as to why.
So seeing Lawrence smile silently, Kieman spoke. “I apologize for asking such a foolish question. Neither merchants, knights, nor kings can accomplish so very much on their own. Priests are no different.”
Lawrence understood merchants, knights, and kings – but not priests. Every great merchant, knight, or king had a great lover to become his wife and support him.
But what of priests?
“They have their God,” Lawrence could not help murmuring to himself past his smile.
So with Holo supporting him, how far would he be able to go?
“Well, we’re both walking on thin ice made solid only with lies – so let us each do our best, eh?” Still sitting, Kieman extended his hand.
Lawrence took it and gripped it with obvious force.
“Now then, I can’t very well do side dealings all day. If you need to contact me, simply speak to the innkeeper. Also, we won’t do anything so tasteless as eavesdropping on you, so if you’d be so kind to return the favor.”
“Indeed. Doubt and misunderstanding lead always to misfortune.”
Kieman nodded and stood.
Unlike their initial meeting in his office, he escorted Lawrence out of the room. “This should all be settled by the evening after tomorrow.”
He hid the word desperately behind a sly smile.
“In that case even if we can’t sleep from nerves, we should be able to see it through,” said Lawrence, which made Kieman smile, and he began to walk.
His footsteps were easy and casual, and if someone had happened to chance upon that hallway, he would never have suspected that Kieman and Lawrence knew each other.
Alone in the hallway, Lawrence smiled wryly. “He didn’t say a thing about what’ll happen if we fail,” he mur
mured.
He himself had done something similar in the Church city of Ruvinheigen – swindling a poor shepherdess by speaking only of the possible profits.
Back then he had felt nearly crushed with guilt for this. But what of it?
Kieman had acted as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Lawrence had no confidence that he could be or act like that.
Thanks to Holo, he had a way to recover if the situation became truly untenable.
But that was absolutely a method of last resort for the sake of his own reassurance. What she really wanted was for him to extract his own share out of these dealings, not just complete his tasks safely.
Could he truly outwit such opponents?
He had no choice but to try, and having come this far, he rather wanted to.
Lawrence scratched his forehead and began to walk.
In the darkness, he bared his teeth in a smile.
He felt like reading an epic.
Chapter Seven
That evening, Lawrence was unable to sleep and not just because he had declared that it might be so.
Kieman would likely pass the night immersed in planning and preparation, but Lawrence had to worry about executing those plans.
He knew he was not particularly skilled.
Nearly any merchant would be seeking more information to try and gain the upper hand. But this time, Lawrence had to stay passive. And outwitting his opponent under such constraints required significant ability.
He had only a small amount of time during which to formulate a plan, and his information was limited. It was not even clear whether he would be able to protect his own position.
Without Holo, he would have unquestionably chosen self-preservation and acted as Kieman’s pawn. In which case, he would most likely have been used and then abandoned.
Lawrence smiled self-deprecatingly and rolled over.
His bed was next to the cold windowsill, so if he lifted his head up a bit, he could see the faint blue moonlight slipping through the gaps in the window.
Lawrence realized how great the distance was between his own ability as a merchant and Eve’s; he had to doff his hat to her. Against her, a man like Kieman was putting forth his greatest effort. And Lawrence had jumped into the middle of their battle.
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