Spice & Wolf Omnibus

by Isuna Hasekura

  “Still…”

  “Ouch–!”

  She grabbed his ear and pulled, and he leaned in response, tugging on the reins, which in turn prompted a neigh from the horse.

  “… You’re hardly fit to be called a male, exaggerating your tales because you’re unconcerned whether I’ll beg you for poultry!”

  She seemed to have seen right through him.

  Holo let go of his ear as though tossing it aside, then folded her arms across her chest, looking displeased.

  “Hmph. Consider my teasing your punishment for that. Speaking of such delicious things, when on our journey all we have to eat are these plain rations – why, I could just die.”

  Even if that did leave them even, this last part was too much for Lawrence to let pass unanswered. “Look here, our food may be plain, but the bread’s a mix of wheat and rye, and the wine is fine and clear, and we’d get along perfectly well without it. And then we have cheese and jerky, and we also have fruits and raisins, which is quite luxurious enough. In the past I used to travel on nothing but raw garlic and onions. Compared with that, what we have is unbelievable luxury.”

  Though Holo sometimes acted strangely childish or animalistic, her fundamental intelligence was enough to cause even Lawrence to quail. She was not someone who couldn’t understand reason.

  And yet she still had no trouble saying things like, “I shall die, surely.”

  She turned away with a sniff.

  Could such purposeful acting truly exist?

  Lawrence made a face as he bit his tongue and glared at Holo.

  If he took the bait, he would lose. But if he ignored her, it would obviously become a test of wills, and he knew for a certainty that he would be the one to finally surrender. This was what it meant to be perfectly seen through.

  To put it politely, all Lawrence wanted was to have pleasant journeys with Holo. And Holo was perfectly willing to take that desire hostage.

  “Fine, fine.”

  “… What is fine?” she replied coldly, her back still turned.

  “I’m sorry. If we can find some poultry, I’ll buy it for you. But that offer is only good while we’re on the road.”

  That was as far as Lawrence was willing to compromise. When it came to buying her such things in a town, even if his mouth opened to make the offer, as long as his coin purse was unable to open to back up that offer, he would never actually make it.

  Holo still did not deign to turn around; her ears merely twitched.

  No doubt that clever mind of hers was thinking things through – deciding whether or not he had really been pushed as far as he could be pushed.

  “I seem to recall that I told you earlier – I can tell a man’s lies from truth.”

  “Certainly. I remember quite well.”

  “Is that so?”

  “It is.”

  “Mm…”

  Holo again fell silent for a time.

  Meanwhile Lawrence felt like a criminal awaiting his sentencing as he waited for her next words, though when he thought carefully about it, he knew perfectly well he had committed no crime.

  Yet there was no escaping this unreasonable situation.

  Finally Holo appeared to realize that Lawrence’s proposal was as far as he could go and still conclude the discussion as jokingly as it had started, so she turned back to him and smiled pleasantly.

  Unfair! he shouted inwardly. Holo’s ever-changing smiles would be able to deceive any man, not just one weary from years of lonely traveling.

  “Hmph. Still, you–”

  “Hmm?”

  The horse walked lazily on for a little while before Holo spoke.

  “What you said earlier – it was no lie, was it?”

  “What I said earlier? Oh, about the castrated fowl…?”

  “Fool. No, about buying one for me should we encounter one.”

  Why was she going to such lengths to confirm this? Lawrence had an ill premonition for a moment, but then Holo tugged at his sleeve, and he realized it was no mere premonition.

  In an instant, his heart and mind were those of a merchant’s.

  “Did I say that…?”

  “You did, did you not?” Holo leaned in close and growled a low growl.

  Now, finally, Lawrence saw what she meant. Far up along the sloping road, there was a person. And though Lawrence’s eyes could not make it out, he knew that Holo could see a chicken there, too.

  “Surely you don’t intend to quibble over whether or not you were speaking to me, do you?”

  Nothing was as terrifying as Holo’s unfriendly smile. But it seemed likely that he was going to have to kneel down and explain to her just how much a single chicken would cost.

  But that would work only if she was willing to listen. And at the moment, that seemed very unlikely. Lawrence looked at Holo next to him and sighed. If he failed to tread lightly, his life could be in danger.

  “Fine. I’m sorry. I’ll keep my promise. However–”

  “However?” she shot back, her retort nearly overlapping with his words and her gaze very serious.

  Lawrence had to choose his words very carefully. “Just one.”

  Holo looked him steadily in the eye and did not move. After a suffocating silence, she faced forward with a huge smile.

  Lawrence was sure he knew how a bird too terrified by a wild dog’s gaze to fly away must have felt. He thought about it as he looked ahead, whereupon the figure up the road noticed their approach and stood.

  The figure waved, and as they drew near enough that Lawrence could tell he was smiling, he saw the chicken tied up at the figure’s feet.

  “Just one,” he repeated, just to be clear.

  “How about something to liven up your travels, sir?”

  Travelers were few in this expanse of wilderness, and the strange peddler who had waited for a sole customer out under the midwinter sky was a lanky man of about Lawrence’s age. He had the particular wiry build of a farmer. When they were close enough to shake hands, Lawrence was surprised at how thick the young man’s skin was.

  “Besides the chicken, I’ve got some excellent ale. How about it?”

  His body was far sturdier than any traveling merchant’s. He was clothed in plain, simple clothing, and despite the mist puffing whitely from his mouth, he didn’t appear cold at all. Far from it, he wore a merry smile, and beside the chicken pecking at the roadside grass sat a waist-high barrel.

  The young man seemed in fine condition, but the iron bands holding the barrel staves together were rusted and seemed likely to give way at any moment. Nevertheless, the chicken seemed fat and happy – it was a strange combination.

  Lawrence stroked his beard thoughtfully.

  Holo wasn’t urging him to quickly finish the purchase, either – she was probably just as preoccupied as Lawrence was with wondering just how this man came to be on this desolate road in the first place.

  “Might we taste the ale?” Lawrence finally asked since silence wasn’t going to accomplish anything.

  The man nodded grandly. “But of course!” he said, chest thrust out, and then produced a largish measuring cup. He removed the barrel’s lid and drew a cupful of ale. “It’s just been brewed. Look, it’s even still bubbling!”

  When Lawrence put it to his lips, he found that it was surprisingly tasty – either the water was good or the wheat had been good.

  Holo wanted some, too, so he gave her a sip, and her eyes immediately turned imploring.

  “So, how about it?”

  At the man’s repeated question, Lawrence nodded, and his eyes returned to the chicken.

  He could tell that beneath Holo’s robe, she was trying very hard to keep her tail from swishing to and fro.

  Roast chicken and ale. No wonder she was so happy.

  “I suppose we’ll take some ale with the chicken.”

  The only reason the man didn’t notice the flicker of movement underneath Holo’s hood was because he himself nearly jumped for joy.


  But Lawrence was not just Holo’s traveling companion. He was something of a traveling merchant, and so these were the next words out of his mouth: “But I think I’d like several chickens. Not just the one.”

  “Huh?” the man replied, and Holo, too, looked at Lawrence in surprise.

  She had recently started to understand how the market worked and thus had a faint notion of just how costly even a single chicken could be – hence her surprise at Lawrence’s saying he wanted more than one.

  “There’s a village nearby, is there not? We’re not in a terrible hurry, so perhaps you’d take us there to buy more.”

  It was obvious that the man wasn’t a merchant hauling his goods down the road, which meant he must have come from a village in order to make some coin or trade for goods he had a pressing need of.

  Just as Lawrence suspected, the man nodded at first dazedly, then again with greater strength. “Truly? Of course, of course!” His face full of happiness, he immediately secured the barrel with rope and hoisted it to his back. His smaller items were quickly put in a burlap sack and fixed to the lid of the barrel, and then he took hold of the rope the chicken was tied to. “Well, then, follow me!”

  And then he strode energetically right off the road.

  The direction he was heading in was wild land, but Lawrence decided it was not so rough that the wagon could not traverse it. He pulled on the reins to turn the horse in the proper direction.

  It was none other than Holo who chose that moment to tug at his sleeve. “Come now, if you’re angry, you might say as much,” she said, a worried expression on her face.

  She must have thought Lawrence saying he wanted to buy more than one chicken was meant as a kind of snide remark on her behavior.

  Lawrence laughed in spite of himself, at which point it was Holo who seemed angry, and she glared at him.

  “Sorry, sorry. No, I just had an idea, you see.”

  “… An idea?” Holo’s head tilted quizzically as she faced him.

  “Call it a merchant’s intuition.”

  Holo regarded him with extreme skepticism, but Lawrence was not worried. She might confound him with her acting and her snares, but that was because she had confidence in his merchant’s eye.

  “If this goes well, I really will buy you more than one.”

  Holo’s expression did not change. “We’ll see, but I shan’t expect much.”

  Lawrence, however, expected quite a lot.

  There would be business to do once they arrived where the young man was so spiritedly taking them.

  The young man finally led them to a small village, from which could be seen far-off forests and springs. It looked all the poorer for the slapdash construction and placement of the dwellings with fields that seemed haphazardly plowed.

  Towns and villages without good government either overflowed with chaos or fell into poverty. This seemed to be one of the latter.

  “Quite a remote place,” said Holo bluntly, and Lawrence couldn’t claim he didn’t understand.

  It was said that roads existed to connect towns to other towns and to connect villages to landlords’ estates.

  And yet, if this place’s poor condition wasn’t enough, it was no exaggeration to say that it seemed completely isolated from the outside world. The words landlocked island were perfectly appropriate.

  “Well, we’re here! Welcome to Jisahz!”

  Small though it was, a wooden fence stood marking the territory that belonged to the village. Once he’d passed it, their guide turned and shouted his pronouncement.

  It was a village; little else could be said.

  The villagers had been watching Lawrence and Holo for some time, and they now drew nearer to get a better look.

  “W-well, then, this way! You can wash the dust from your feet at my home!” The man did not bother to introduce Lawrence or Holo to the villagers, instead walking proudly ahead of the horse and wagon.

  It was enough to make Lawrence laugh, to say nothing of Holo. The man could not help how proud he was to be leading travelers into his village.

  However, from the words “wash the dust from your feet,” Lawrence guessed this was a village of the Church. And seeing his guess had been correct, he smiled faintly.

  The man pounded loudly on the door of his home, then immediately threw it open and went inside. Next, a verbal exchange could be heard, after which a stout woman emerged from within, looking flustered.

  Lawrence found her resemblance to the man rather amusing. “Goodness, welcome, welcome! Go on, dear. Call the village elder!”

  The smile remained fixed to Lawrence’s face, though not because he found this treatment particularly pleasant. Holo, too, seemed to have realized something, perhaps having noticed Lawrence’s smile.

  “Er, I’m very grateful for the warm welcome, but we’re mere traveling merchants, so…”

  “Yes, yes, and honored merchants are most welcome! Please do come in! I’m sorry we can’t offer much, but…”

  Still sitting in the driver’s seat of the wagon, Lawrence smiled an appreciative smile and then turned to Holo. She was quite perceptive, and once Holo nodded her agreement, he turned back to the woman.

  Not having to explain every detail to Holo was awfully convenient. Lawrence was perfectly able to continue their little act.

  “Well, thank you. We’re sorry to impose on your generosity.”

  “Not at all. Come in! You can leave your wagon right there. Dear! Go fetch some hay and a bucket of water!” cried the woman to a man in the crowd with a hoe over his shoulder. No doubt he was the master of the household. With a look on his face as though wondering what was happening, he nonetheless ran off to do as he was told.

  Lawrence descended from the wagon and Holo followed.

  Just before they were welcomed into the house, Lawrence caught a glimpse of the young man from earlier leading a much older man by the hand.

  The floor of the house had neither wooden planks nor stone tiles and was simply made of hard-packed earth. A hole dug in the earth served as a hearth, around which were arranged a wooden table and chairs. The farming implements that leaned against the walls were likewise entirely wooden.

  Onions and garlic dangled from strings, and on a shelf high against one wall there was a milky white-colored substance – yeast, probably.

  Despite its dinginess, the building was spacious, and Lawrence suspected that several families might live here given the number of chairs, pots, and bowls.

  Lawrence did not particularly dislike town inns, but as he himself was from a tiny village, he felt very comfortable in surroundings like these. It was Holo who seemed less at ease here.

  “Ah, so you’re heading north, are you?”

  “Yes, to a town called Lenos.”

  “I see… Well, you can see what sort of village this is. We’re very grateful to be able to welcome a traveling merchant like yourself.” While it was said that titles make the man, village elders all seemed to look somehow similar. The thin, aged village elder of Jisahz bowed deeply.

  “No doubt it was God’s will that I be led to this town and to be welcomed so warmly. If I can help you in any way, please ask.”

  “We thank you for that.”

  Lawrence’s smile was a genuine one. He truly did believe that this was the result of divine guidance.

  “Let us give thanks to God for this encounter, then.” As the village elder spoke, Lawrence and Holo both raised their wooden cups and drank a toast.

  “… Aah, that is fine ale, indeed.”

  “It is shameful – thanks given to God call for wine, but we cannot raise grapevines here.”

  “God determines the flavor of wine, but it’s the skill of humans that give ale its taste. And you surely possess fine brewing methods to make this ale.”

  The elder shook his head humbly, but he could not hide his pleasure at hearing this. Holo stared down at the table, but Lawrence knew it was not because she found this conversation tiresome, nor
because the food was too poor for her taste.

  Just what are you planning? her quick glance to Lawrence said.

  “In truth, our brewing uses a secret technique,” said the elder, only too pleased to have the village’s ale praised.

  To earn the high regard of an elder, the key was to listen closely to everything he or she said. Lawrence was just giving the old man his full attention when he heard a commotion from outside.

  “So, yes… oh?” said the elder, looking over his shoulder.

  “Elder! Drey and the others, they’re at it again!” shouted a man, pointing outside after he burst into the room, his hands black with soil.

  The elder stood, looking pained, then turned back to Lawrence and bowed his head. “My apologies. I must tend to this.”

  “Not at all. You’ve welcomed us quite warmly enough. Your duties to the village are more important.”

  The elder bowed again before being hurried out the door by the other man.

  The village custom seemed to be that only the elder welcomed guests, so once he left, Lawrence and Holo were alone.

  There still seemed to be people outside, so if they called, no doubt someone would come, but Holo seemed to welcome the solitude.

  “So then–”

  “I imagine you’d like an explanation, eh?”

  Holo plucked a bean off the table, popped it into her mouth, and nodded.

  “This is a colony village,” said Lawrence.

  “Colony?” Holo repeated back to him.

  “There are many reasons, but it happens when people move into undeveloped land and found a new town or village there. And sometimes, once in a while, villages get founded in isolated places like this one.”

  Holo’s eyes glanced curiously to and fro as she drank her beer. “Why would they do such a thing?” she asked almost childishly.

  “This is just a guess, but do you recall the rocks and logs we saw piled next to the spring when we entered the village? I’ll bet they plan on building an abbey.”

  “An… abbey?”

  “Yes. It’s a place where a chosen few devout believers can conduct their worship. Undisturbed by worldly temptations, they can live simply, humbly, and purely, which is why they would choose a desolate place like this.”