Before being taken away, Eve had said she had no intention of selling the narwhal to Reynolds. That suggested that the letter she held had been an approach from him. If there was more to this than a secret agreement between Eve and Kieman, what would happen if a wider perspective were taken?
Reynolds was on the side of the northern landlords, which meant that there was a limited number of possibilities.
Was Reynolds both openly and secretly trying to buy the narwhal?
“I imagine that’s probably because the northerners are trying to find a way to buy the narwhal.”
“Hmm…”
“But if that were all, Kieman would have panicked, and Eve wouldn’t have taken the risk of coming to see me. Something totally outside of their expectations must have happened to cause this.”
Holo took Lawrence’s hand and began to walk. “’Tis a shabby town, this is. It doesn’t seem to have much coin.”
“That’s right. And Reynolds is supposed to be at the center of this.”
Reynolds might be able to use box-packing tricks to make a little money, but it wouldn’t get him any great wealth.
“If he doesn’t have it, he would have to borrow.”
“Exactly. If Reynolds truly intends to buy the narwhal, it means he’s going to have to collect the capital to do so from somewhere. Ah – so that’s why Kieman and Eve were so upset.”
From under her hood, Holo finally showed her eyes. Lawrence could see the faint remnants left over from her previously furrowed brow. If she had seen the entire sequence of events, from when he arrived on shore to his meeting with Eve, to their encounter with Kieman and what happened after, she had probably been frowning the entire time.
Just as Holo did for Col, Lawrence knew that once this was all over, he would have to do something to erase those creases.
“Money and power are close partners. If the narwhal trade is connected to someone wealthy and powerful, the matter becomes much more complicated. Do you see?”
Through the ages it was ever thus.
Holo sneered, as though warning Lawrence not to test her. “… If the food you ordered never arrives, you have but to demand your money returned.”
Her mind was as quick as ever.
Lawrence recalled the sight of Eve being dragged away by force. That had happened because things could no longer be settled by record of profit and loss in a ledger.
“If their meal doesn’t arrive, it’s their practice to demand compensation in money or blood. Which means… if this speculation is correct, there’s only one place Kieman would take Eve.”
He would fight power with power.
Reynolds had come to Eve asking to buy the narwhal because he’d suspected the secret agreement she had with Kieman. Which meant there was no telling how much power was poised to strike at Kieman.
When the time came, having one or two thugs around Kieman wasn’t going to help him.
Lawrence pulled on Holo’s hand and started walking in the opposite direction. Holo had probably arranged to meet up with Col somewhere, but if Lawrence was right, he knew exactly where that was.
On they went, through the throngs, and before long they arrived.
The number of guards had increased since they’d been there the previous day.
“The church?” Holo murmured, but then her eyes were immediately drawn to something, and there at the end of her gaze was the surprised face of Col.
“Uh, er, why are you here?” Col asked, having covered himself in a ratty coat to pose as a beggar boy.
Lawrence was now sure his guess was right.
“Kieman’s in there, eh? Well, if I’m going to save her I’m going to have to get in and speak to him face-to-face. So how do you think we should attack?” said Lawrence.
Holo showed her fangs and smiled.
“What’s your business?”
As they walked up the stone steps and arrived at the entrance of the church, two guards crossed their spears to bar the way.
Lawrence had brought Holo and Col (who had changed his clothes) along with him and smiled. “We have business with Lud Kieman of the Rowen Trade Guild.”
Those were God’s gift, the magic words, but there was no guarantee that the same God still sat on the throne. Unlike the previous day, one of the dour-faced soldiers opened the door and went inside, while the other remained behind, his spear pointed unhesitatingly at Lawrence.
The plan Holo had proposed was simplicity itself, and the only unusual thing about it was that Col, not Holo, would be at Lawrence’s side.
“… Inside,” said the soldier, who had gone into the church, once he re-emerged.
Lawrence smiled at the soldiers when they briefly pulled their spears aside and slipped through the only slightly opened door. Once Col followed him, the door was closed, and they were again greeted with spears.
“…”
Forward, they meant.
Lawrence started walking, and motivated by spearpoint, they continued on through the hall that encircled the sanctuary.
The church’s interior was so quiet it was eerie, and he felt like he could hear even the candles’ flames. The ceiling was high and the carvings on the wall were intricate, each one beautiful. But each one of them was an otherworldly demon designed to convey the fear and terror of the world, which seemed like some sort of omen.
Midway through the hallway, the soldiers ordered them to stop in front of a door.
It seemed to be a storeroom of some kind, and one of the soldiers knocked on the plain wooden door, which was then quietly opened.
There appeared the face of Kieman’s messenger. Looking Lawrence over, he was clearly not pleased.
“I would speak with Mr. Kieman.” Lawrence flashed his finest smile.
He was well aware that this would be dismissed as empty merchants’ charm, so his goal was to irritate the man. For Holo’s simple plan, this was the most effective approach.
“Do you not get that you were deliberately spared?”
Threats were best employed suddenly, like a snake striking from the brush. Lawrence was prepared, his counterattack ready.
“We merchants love to snatch chestnuts from the fire, after all.”
The instant Lawrence answered, the man reddened and reached for Lawrence’s collar. But Lawrence knew he was coming and was thus unsurprised.
As the man came at him, Lawrence stepped back and took the opportunity to grab his opponent by the collar, hauling him back out of the room. “And do you not understand that I am here deliberately to negotiate?”
Lawrence’s smile was unmoved. The soldier hastily tried to separate them, but just then another voice echoed out.
“Is there a problem?”
At this Lawrence immediately released the man’s collar, and the other man did likewise.
Kieman’s calm, elegant voice was irritatingly well suited to the majestic atmosphere of the church. And yet his hair was slightly mussed as he stood in the entrance to the room.
“I’d like to speak with my acquaintance.”
“That’s very direct of you. Do you think I will allow that?”
Kieman’s messenger stood next to him, his dark eyes staring at Lawrence.
Next to Lawrence, Col straightened himself and stood tall. Lawrence didn’t know whether that was in response to the messenger’s posturing or not, but it gave him a bit of courage nonetheless.
“I don’t expect it will be easy, no.”
“How about this? I haven’t the luxury of wasting time on you. Fortunately, this church has many other rooms.” He looked at Lawrence with cold eyes. He had the advantage of numbers.
But that he was resorting to threats proved he was out of room to maneuver.
“Of course you do. But I’m surprised you would assume I came here unprepared.”
“Oh?”
“No, perhaps I should put it this way – I truly thought you spared me because it would be too much trouble to bring me in.”
Kieman
’s handsome face wrinkled in a frown.
Lawrence continued rapidly. “Miss Eve tried all sorts of things to bring me over to her side. She even helped me ensure my own safety. For example–” He coughed deliberately. “She sold me several parchments with your signature on them.”
Kieman’s messenger started to move, but Kieman stopped him. His lips curled into an unpleasant half smile. “I notice your companion isn’t that girl.”
“She’s the quicker one, after all. And even a girl can carry a few papers in her breast pocket.”
“…”
If his dealings with Eve were exposed, Kieman would suffer. Regardless of what actions he took, given the volatility of the situation, there was no telling whether they would be effective or not.
He surely didn’t want to risk further danger. And what harm could come of letting Lawrence meet with Eve? Little, he would no doubt conclude.
“Understood.” At these words, Kieman’s messenger looked up at his master’s face. “Escort them in.”
The faithful messenger chewed his lip in frustration but did as he was told with admirable loyalty. He shot Lawrence a resentful look, but Lawrence knew that it was the masterless stray that was to be feared, not the trained guard dog.
“If you’ve anything I need, I’ll pay you a fair price for it.” Kieman was a merchant, after all. Lawrence looked at him over his shoulder and nodded with a smile.
“This way.” The messenger led them to a staircase that led underground from the hallway into what might have been a vault, or perhaps a dungeon from the days when this had been at the front lines of the wars with the pagans.
As they descended the dark, damp stairs, they encountered an iron door. The messenger knocked in a strange rhythm, and the door was unlocked from the inside.
“Don’t even consider trying to escape.”
“Certainly not,” replied Lawrence politely, which made the man grind his teeth.
Lawrence pushed the door open himself and entered the room. Col followed him, and by the time the door closed behind them, Lawrence had a sense of the individuals in and the circumstances of the room.
Lit by flickering candlelight and sitting on a tuff of hay was Eve, like some sort of captured princess. She grinned as though having heard some great joke. After a few moments, she seemed to regain her composure. The huge smile had surely been her own way of hiding her embarrassment.
“I’ve come to talk with you.”
“And what… joke would you care to hear?”
Lawrence turned his dagger over to the guard, who checked to make sure neither he nor Col were carrying any weapons. Meanwhile Lawrence looked openly around the room, which indeed seemed to be a cellar of some kind. There were goods stacked here and there, with the open places in the floor covered by blankets or hay. Both food and water had been left, and Eve’s hands weren’t bound.
He had prepared himself for worse circumstances, so on that count he was genuinely relieved.
Eve was in fine shape. But whips and clubs weren’t the only ways of making someone talk.
“The first thing a merchant does in a new town is gather information.”
“Indeed. I’m surprised he let you in… Ah, the boy’s with you. I see.” Eve had gained enough practical wisdom to guess how Lawrence had gotten in. “Flowers won’t be enough of a gift to give that girl now that you’ve made her wait alone for your return.”
“… I got a fist in the face the last time.”
“Ha-ha. She’s a stout one, it’s true.”
Such conversation would have made for a lovely idle day had it been taking place under sun-dappled eaves. Unfortunately, there was a guard watching them with a sword at his belt. Outside the door was the messenger, and it was even possible that Kieman himself was listening in.
“Well, I’m just relieved you haven’t been reduced to tearing your bread into small pieces to eat it.”
“Hmph. Kieman doesn’t have the nerve to hurt me. Reynolds is dirt-poor, so he must’ve found some rich northern backer. And around here, there are only a few rich men. And they’ve no idea how I’m connected to this. About all they can do is yell at me.”
There was no doubt her ire was directed at the sword-armed guard.
But given Eve’s style, if he were truly beneath her contempt, she wouldn’t even bother insulting him, so she was probably being considerate of him for having brought her food and water.
“I’ve told all this to Kieman, but Reynolds’s letter might as well have pulled the ladder out from under me. If he’s trying to use my agreement with Kieman to control me… it’s because I’m useful.”
Her tone of voice hadn’t changed, but the mood had. Lawrence could swear he heard Col gulp.
“So it’s true that he has a wealthy, powerful backer?”
“Kieman suspects as much, but look at Reynolds’s situation – he’s the most successful trader on the north side, and that’s all he can manage. It’s hard to think of a familiar figure who has such money. Of course, it’s possible that Reynolds is using someone’s knowledge to make a purchase order without actually having the money.”
“What’s his goal?”
Eve grinned a toothy grin. “To take money from people like us, who are caught up in a secret narwhal deal.”
Lawrence found himself smiling; Eve was the one who’d taught him that there were people in the world who could think of anything.
“By saying, ‘If you don’t want us interfering in your carefully arranged, once-in-a-lifetime gamble, pay up.’”
“The northerners are fighting a losing battle. It’s hardly surprising some of them are starting to suggest they grab what profit can be had. There are probably others who are mad enough to try to convince the people around them of that, and if they push it, it’ll work. They’ll panic and pay. Of course, we’re probably the only ones bold enough to just sell off the narwhal itself.”
Since Kieman had access to the church and was at the point where he would even imprison Eve, Lawrence had a sense of just how carefully this too-bold plan had been constructed. The amount of money spent had to be considerable.
If it was all going to go up in smoke, Kieman might as well pay off Reynolds and try to back out of the purchase, rather than lose everything.
“Of course, given that Kieman’s holding me here, that means the odds that Reynolds placed a buy order despite not having any money are low. Kieman fears me being taken in by the northerners more than anything else, so him keeping me here means he’s decided Reynolds does have a powerful backer. And as for me… that’s why I came to see you, since there were too many clues along those lines.”
Eve was former nobility from the kingdom of Winfiel, a half-day’s journey across the channel. To make a chart of all the powerful figures she had once been connected to, it would turn the parchment black with ink.
Such figures couldn’t act without good cause, but once they had such cause, they could accomplish nearly anything. A secret deal for the narwhal would be an easy target.
Moreover, if they made Eve out as the villain, they could boost their profits and kill two birds with one stone. It would no longer be a question of whether she would survive the tumult – she might not even be recognizable as a human by then.
Taking the narwhal and escaping to the south was probably Eve’s greatest wish.
“I didn’t think it would come to this,” said Eve helplessly, resting her elbow on a rolled-up blanket and leaning back. “If you’ve figured out this much, you should be able to learn the rest by watching the town for a few days. But whether Reynolds has the money or not or has managed to somehow raise it, this will probably be the last time we meet.”
Her sudden talkativeness must have been a reaction to the broken tension. But now she was either tired or simply satisfied with her words, as she covered her eyes and yawned.
She still gave off a somehow unflappable, regal aura. The only reason it didn’t seem genuinely divine to Lawrence was because of th
e short statement she uttered next.
“They’re all quite skilled here. I’ll be happy if I can die without much pain.”
Col cried out a bit, and Eve looked up at him with a little smile.
“D-do you mean they’ll destroy the evidence?”
“I’ve got a mouth, after all.”
How many people in the world could shrug so casually as they said such things?
Lawrence began to say something, but Eve smiled like a young maiden and continued. “And in the end, you went along with my childish selfishness. Such fun…”
She turned aside, her eyes fixed on some far-off point. Her profile was truly lovely.
“No matter how terrible the feast, if the last dish is tasty, then it wasn’t for naught,” she said.
Lawrence felt a pang in his heart, but not out of pity for Eve.
That reasoning was precisely why he had decided to continue traveling with Holo. As long as he could keep laughing with her, that was all that mattered.
But if he could ignore everything else, then he wouldn’t be standing in this very situation.
“What can I do to save you?” Lawrence asked. The guard standing next to him was shocked, but not as much as Eve herself.
“Is he serious?” said Eve, looking not at Lawrence but at the guard.
“… I’ve no idea. Unfortunately, I’m no merchant.”
If things went poorly, she would lose her head and he would be the one chopping it off, but there they were, talking like old friends.
“But I can say one thing…”
“You don’t have to. He already knows,” said Eve, interrupting the guard.
The man looked at Eve for a few moments, then did as he was told and kept silent.
Lawrence did indeed know what he was going to say.
Complete despair brought with it a certain calm. But if a single ray of hope pierced that calm, it could bring with it unbearable suffering.
“If there’s a chance for my salvation, it can be only this,” said Eve, her expression calm, but not because she had a heart of iron. “That Reynolds has raised the money on his own,” she said, closing her eyes. “I’m tired of talking. I haven’t slept in two days.”
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