Lawrence’s hand stopped, and his eyes fixed upon Holo, followed by his face as he slowly turned his head toward her.
“Human memories are unreliable, after all. I cannot have you forgetting your promise.”
Holo’s face was serious, and if anything it was her gaze that accused him.
Lawrence had no words. In his mind he saw a rapid succession of all the moments Holo had been displeased since their arrival in the village. She said she was being reluctant because she’d had nothing to do – but that was nothing more than a convenient excuse.
This was the truth.
His promise to take Holo back to her homelands was a mere verbal contract.
And yet here he was, busily doing work for the village and all the while talking about how fallible human memory was.
“N-no, that… but…” Lawrence finally said.
He could not put it easily into words, but Lawrence was confident that he prized his travels with Holo above any business he might do, and he had been certain that Holo knew that.
So while he could admit he had been insensitive, he found it hard to accept that that was why Holo was angry.
“But?” Holo shot back coldly.
Lawrence had to admit that Holo’s side was the reasonable one and that he’d been inconsiderate. He was just about to apologize when Holo continued. “Hmph. So many times you’ve shocked me thus! For my part, I’ll not soon forget our contract.”
Holo suddenly smiled and chuckled. “But you seem penitent enough, so I’ll forgive you.”
Truth be told, he could have refuted her if he’d wanted to – and Holo surely knew that as well.
But instead he said this, just as she wanted him to: “… I’m sorry.”
“Mm.” Holo’s ears twitched in satisfaction. “Still,” she continued, her expression hardening again as she looked down at him.
Lawrence straightened and wondered what was coming next, and Holo leaned over him, her face drawing near to his.
“If a contract is no longer needed, then I can ask for some other reward for my services, can I not?”
Leaning away slightly, Lawrence nodded. That was only fair, he reasoned – but then he realized what Holo was thinking and raised his voice in spite of himself. “No, wait, you’re not–”
“I wonder what one could buy with the fee to have such a travel contract written. Can I even eat that much…?” She grinned, delighted, her wagging tail nearly sweeping off everything on the desk.
There was no telling how long she might be waiting with one of her traps. Lawrence was utterly cornered by all the promises he’d made. There was no getting out of them now.
“Heh. You look just like poor Clorri did not long ago,” Holo said, poking his nose. He didn’t even have the strength to deflect her.
Holo hopped off the table, spun around, then leaned on Lawrence from behind the chair in which he sat.
“Will you now start to cry, eh?”
He had to smile. Lawrence stood up out of the chair and spoke. “That might not be such a bad idea. At least I’ve got someone who’ll let me bawl at them.”
Holo grinned.
Lawrence prepared himself for the consequences of what he was about to say next. “Assuming that small chest of yours can stand up to–”
A fine sound rang out.
Holo smiled as she shook out her stinging palm. Lawrence took her outstretched hand and straightened his reeling body.
All the while, Holo smiled – it was an obviously false smile, but Lawrence knew the magic that would turn it real. Her continuing smile was her way of urging him to cast the spell.
Slowly and deliberately, he began to chant the magic words.
“Now I’ll never forget your smile.”
Holo’s tail puffed up, and she gripped his hand a bit more tightly.
After centuries in her old village, Holo had only her name left and was forgotten. No written words would suffice to record her smiling face. Outside, preparations for the feast continued. Surely the night would be a drunken one.
Holo nodded and smiled a faint, shy smile.
The Wolf and the Verdant Detour
In the depths of the coldest season, there were sometimes warm days that made one think that spring had arrived – days without wind, when standing still in the sun’s rays could feel almost hot.
Such days made even merchants – for whom time was money – stop in their tracks or pull their wagons to the side of the road; find a field free of grazing cattle or sheep; and just lie in the grass, a bit of wine and rye bread at their side.
Gazing up at the blue sky, they’d wet their mouths with wine and take a bit of the bread – or perhaps even chewing was too much trouble, so they would fall asleep, mouths pathetically full of rye.
The blanket would soak up the sun’s rays and feel as warm as though the merchants were by a roaring fireplace, and the only sounds that reached one’s ears were birdsong and somehow the sound of the sunlight itself.
Only those who lived a life of travel could enjoy such moments.
And they were more than enough to inspire temptation.
It began with a map.
It was midmorning, the sun high enough to have burned away the urge to yawn, and Lawrence the traveling merchant, having grown weary of constant travel upon his horse-drawn wagon, opened up a map he rarely looked at.
He had bought the map dirt cheap some years previous, along with another map, which rather dubiously claimed to show the location of treasure. The treasure map was just as flimsy as its contents, its tattered paper ready to fall apart at any moment. The other map was sturdier, having been more practically inscribed on good parchment.
It was that map he held in his hand, casting his gaze eastward.
The road Lawrence and Holo were on ran alongside a forest for quite a long distance. Despite the road adjacent to it passing through mostly vegetation-free and featureless wilderness, the forest itself was thick and dark with trees year-round.
And yet even that thick forest had been cleared long ago to make room for the construction of a new town, Lawrence had heard, and now covered only half its original area. The map Lawrence held had been drawn when the forest was larger and showed just how great its former extent truly was.
“What is the matter?” asked Lawrence’s traveling companion, Holo, noticing Lawrence’s gaze as it traveled afield from her spot relaxing in the wagon bed.
Lawrence turned to see Holo dressed as a nun and reclining atop his cargo, her head tilted lazily in his direction.
“There’s a lumber mill here.”
“A lumber mill?”
“Or at least there used to be. A place where trees are cut down and their trunks made into lumber for building.”
But Lawrence’s interest wasn’t in the forest’s former grandeur. His gaze was on a road that led into the forest because at the end of that road, there was supposedly a grassy field.
“I see… and the lumber mill’s down that road?”
Lawrence looked back down at the map in his hands and explained, “On this side of the forest is a busy trade route that connects many towns and villages, and thanks to the constant sheep and cattle traffic, the land is totally barren, as you can see. But on the other side of the forest is a lush, fertile plain.”
“A lush plain, eh?” Holo didn’t bother sitting up and merely directed her voice at Lawrence.
“Apparently its face is thick with green grass even this time of year.”
Holo did not immediately reply.
Concerned, Lawrence looked back at her, whereupon he was met by her irritated expression.
“I am no sheep. Green grass is hardly cause for me to celebrate,” she said flatly.
Anyone happening to pass by the wagon would not have understood the true meaning of Holo’s words. But she was not merely being difficult for no reason.
Atop Holo’s head sat a pair of magnificent wolf ears that could never have belonged to any human, and from the
base of her lower back grew a thickly furred tail that swished to and fro.
While she appeared to be a girl in her teens, her true form was that of a giant wolf that could swallow a man in a single bite.
Any who might have puzzled over her complaint would surely understand its full meaning once they saw her true nature.
“My apologies. But grass isn’t merely for eating, you know.”
“Mm?”
“With weather such as this, doesn’t the idea of basking in the sun on a grassy knoll hold a bit of appeal?”
Just then, Holo looked away. Immediately thereafter, her tail started to squirm in her hands. Given her abundant imagination, she could certainly reckon the ways a grassy field could be put to use.
So when she finally opened her mouth, the question Holo asked skipped over that matter entirely. “Were you not in a hurry?”
Merchants knew that time was money, and so a leisurely detour to bask in a sunny clearing was like a rope around the neck. But Holo was genuinely concerned with the possibility of holding their travels up, and her flattering gaze was enough to send any legendary emperor-seducing beauty running barefoot for the hills.
This treatment alone was quite refreshing. And Holo’s tail was even more honest than her lips.
As far as Lawrence was concerned, if the detour would make her this happy, then he cared little about the slight delay. Far from it – if some sun napping gave her this much pleasure, it was worth it and more.
The road had offered few pleasures, so a bit of good cheer was certainly called for.
“We need some rest to keep making efficient progress. Still, I don’t want to get your hopes too high…”
“What do you mean?”
Lawrence shook the map out and continued. “I don’t know how trustworthy the map is. If crossing the forest looks to be too much trouble, we’ll just give up.”
These would have been difficult words to deliver to a child, but fortunately he was addressing Holo the Wisewolf. She knew exactly what he was considering when he made a proposal like this one.
Holo had been lying on her back while grooming her tail, but she now rolled over and looked at Lawrence, her eyes upturned. “’Tis no concern at all – we’ll just have a nice nap in the shade.”
Just as Holo had imagined the grassy plain Lawrence described to her, Lawrence now pictured Holo’s words. It was certainly true that the idea of the two of them napping beneath the trees, leaved year-round and disturbed only by the softest murmur of a wind, was far from a bad one.
Lawrence pulled himself out of his imaginings and turned his attention back to Holo, who regarded him with a silent expression that said, “So, what say you?”
“Not bad.”
“Not bad at all!”
Lawrence put the map aside and took up the reins; Holo rolled over onto her back.
The wagon rolled steadily into the forest. It was a clear midmorning, now completely free of any yawning.
It appeared that someone was still using the road that led into the forest. Hunters, fruit gatherers, or possibly people hunting for wild honey or firewood. In any case, the road was well maintained, and the wagon traversed it easily.
The forest was just quiet enough and just noisy enough to feel just right for a pleasant detour.
Until they entered the forest, Holo kept her hands off of the wine, but soon she was enjoying it fully, the echoing birdsong a fine accompaniment.
Lawrence had of course long since surrendered to the spirit of the detour and was not at all angry. He’d occasionally look back to the wagon bed and warn Holo not to drink it all, but she would thrust the wineskin at him as though to bribe him – and it was a bribe he always took.
According to the map in his hand, the road they were on cut a thin line sideways through the forest. It was, in fact, the narrowest part of the forest that the road crossed, which made this the quickest way to cross through.
However, it often happened that roads deviated from what maps might claim, and after a stretch of steady progress, the road began to arc to the right.
This deviated from the map, but it didn’t seem like a newly built road that avoided a recently fallen tree blocking the old route. The road seemed to have always been this way. But since there was no fork or intersection, Lawrence saw no reason to hesitate.
He continued to guide the horse along the road.
“Aye, winter forests…” said Holo suddenly from the wagon bed. “’Tis better to come in the early morning rather than midday.”
The road’s visibility was not good, and there was no telling when a wagon wheel might be stuck in a tree root or small stream, so Lawrence couldn’t spare a look back – but going by her tone, Holo was reasonably drunk.
“Why’s that?”
“Mm. Even a forest like this has some leaves that fall to the ground, does it not? Over the night they’ll become soaked with dew, which turns to mist in the morning sunlight. If we’d been able to get a breath of that…”
“… The misty air would be a delicious balm to our winter-parched lungs,” Lawrence finished, which Holo gave a satisfied nod at.
“For afternoon visits, summer is best. Rays of sunlight stream through the leaves and tickle one’s cheeks like the feathers of a songbird.”
“Too many flies in summer, though.”
Lawrence was a seasoned traveler himself and knew perfectly well the good and bad parts of forests in any season. He heard Holo’s ticklish laugh just as he had expected to. Unbidden, a vision of a sun-dappled Holo, flicking her tail to and fro to chase insects off her, rose in his mind.
“Still, forests are lovely places. We’ve been traveling across plains so much of late that… aah… aaahhh… so, aye…” Holo yawned. No doubt it would be time for her midday nap soon. Lawrence heard her rummage around for something – perhaps searching for a blanket.
The field they were seeking was still far away, so Lawrence had some choice words for his traveling companion, who was venturing to take an early nap.
“It’s not just forests, you know. There’s pleasure to be had on the plains, too.”
“Oh, aye?”
“Long chats with one’s traveling companion, for one.”
Simply traveling across a plain when the weather was good could turn into a sort of test of endurance. And even if it weren’t, sitting in the driver’s seat, holding the reins while Holo napped in the wagon bed, wasn’t any fun for Lawrence.
Once he had finally ventured to speak his mind, the clever Holo seemed to realize what Lawrence was trying to say.
She popped up and rested her chin on the back of the driver’s seat and looked up at Lawrence with mischief in her eyes. “I’m a wolf, after all. Sadly I’ve no interest in conversation without any meat to it.”
It was a light jab, so Lawrence mildly returned it. “So you’re saying you want furious debate for dinner, then?”
Holo curled her lip up. “Furious, nay. I would hope for something more passionate.” Her eyes were half-closed, and she rubbed the base of her ear against Lawrence’s arm. It was often her way of tricking him into letting his guard down by making him wonder if she was drunk.
Lawrence decided to assume her ear was merely itchy.
“Passionate? Oh, you mean the sort of talk that makes one’s face blush?”
“Heh. Aye.”
If Holo had been a simple cat or dog, a thorough head rubbing and a piece of jerky would placate her, but unfortunately she was a wolf, who would easily devour him if he gave her the chance.
Lawrence raised his arm and slowly rested his elbow on Holo’s head. Holo soon growled her irritation and shot him a sharp glare.
“Just thinking about how much wine you’ve drunk is enough to make my face turn red.”
“… I haven’t had that much.”
Holo’s face would remain unaffected by wine for quite a while, so her appearance was largely unchanged. But she still didn’t enjoy being made roundabout fun of, so she slid out
from under Lawrence’s elbow and rubbed her head.
“Make sure you save a bit for enjoying on the sunny field, eh?”
“I said I did not drink that much,” said Holo sulkily, withdrawing to the wagon bed and flopping roughly over to the side.
Lawrence got the feeling she was starting to become genuinely angry, so perhaps Holo really had been careful to spare Lawrence his share of the wine.
He did trust her, but perhaps she didn’t enjoy being doubted even in jest. Lawrence turned around to apologize and was immediately met by her ready gaze.
She’d been ready and waiting for him to turn around out of concern for her.
“’Tis true, though I do enjoy idle conversation. And my very favorite sort is…”
“… When you get to tease a poor traveling merchant?”
“Hmm? Oh, aye, that’s nice as well.”
The road continued to run through the forest, and Lawrence squinted ahead to see whether the field was approaching. He noticed that there seemed to be another road running alongside theirs, and a short distance ahead the two seemed to intersect.
Lawrence shrugged off Holo’s words and reached for the map, looking down at it intently. “So what is your favorite sort of conversation?” he asked, looking back and forth between the map and the road and trying to see past the trees.
Evidently the road Lawrence and Holo were currently on wasn’t the only one that crossed the forest – there were several others. And worse, they intersected each other in complicated ways.
Given that, Lawrence wondered if it might not be prudent to turn around and leave.
As he mulled it over, Lawrence felt eyes staring hard at the back of his neck, so he turned around.
“… At the very least, I have no great love for this sort of conversation,” said an irritated Holo, her tail switching in agitation.
For just a moment, Lawrence’s mind went white. Trifling conversations were similar to, albeit different from, perfunctory ones. Having gotten used to traveling alone, Lawrence had been careless.
“I’m sorry,” he said, apologizing sincerely. “So, what is your favorite sort of conversation?” he asked again, which made Holo’s face turn instantly disbelieving.
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