Spice & Wolf Omnibus

by Isuna Hasekura

  Lawrence had been careless.

  He should have known, he thought and sighed and began to place the sorted coins on the table into different bags.

  The next moment, something came to him.

  “Hey – that’s right. Of course,” he said, leaning back in the chair so that it balanced on its back legs. He looked back over his shoulder and saw Holo looking at him, apparently wondering what he was talking about.

  “Come to think of it, with you along, don’t you suppose we could make a killing on wolf wards?”

  Occasionally stubbornness led to a certain wry smile. But a smile was a smile, and sometimes that was enough to clear the skies.

  Holo’s ears twitched. “So,” she said, turning over in bed to face him. “What did you have in mind?”

  While she could be even more childish and selfish than she looked, she offered Lawrence such a gracious chance to redeem himself that even he could not let it slip away.

  No one had a better traveling companion than he did.

  “Well, say…” Lawrence said, his gaze flitting away. “Maybe one could make some noise that would drive them away…?”

  “Sometimes high-pitched noises are unpleasant for us… but that’s just as likely to attract their attention as it is to drive wolves away.”

  She had a very straightforward point of view.

  “What about prayers to God, then?”

  “Aye, surely, if that god will give them food every day.”

  “What about the talk that they can’t stand the smell of metal?”

  “Metal…” Holo sat up as though they had finally hit upon something worth debating. She closed her eyes and tilted her head. “That might have some effect.”

  “So a leaden apron might work, then?” Lawrence had seen craftsmen wearing such things.

  “Hmmm.”

  “I’ve often heard that knights or mercenaries wearing armor are difficult to attack.”

  “That’s because of the long spears they carry, though, aye? Those are troublesome even for me. But swords – sometimes I don’t even notice if they’re carrying swords before I leap.”

  Every one of her answers was completely reasonable.

  Lawrence gave the matter honest thought. “What about something that simply smells bad?”

  “Aye. Herbs often have a bitter scent. That might be worst of all.”

  Several possible varieties of herbs flitted through Lawrence’s mind. Some of them were quite cheap and might well do the trick.

  Given the hour, the sun would soon be setting, but even if the spice shops were closing, their wares would be identifiable from the eaves simply by the scents they gave off.

  “Shall we go out? You might walk off a bit of that wine.”

  “Mm. Right now?” Holo was surprised at first but soon changed her mind. “Aye, why not?”

  “Right.” Lawrence put his things in order and stood, and watching him, Holo smiled. A moment later, she climbed out of bed herself.

  “But let’s not hurry, eh?” said Holo as she took Lawrence’s hand.

  The western sky was red, but the east had already turned a dark blue. The passersby in the streets wore their scarves up around their mouths, bundled up tightly as they hurried to finish the day’s business and head home.

  The barmaid of the tavern, which Holo had been drinking and carousing at not long before, was just then hanging a tallow lamp from the building’s eaves; noticing Lawrence and Holo, she waved.

  “…”

  When Lawrence looked back at her, Holo’s grip on his hand tightened a little – the usual joke. And anyway, the barmaid hardly had time to show a mere traveling merchant anything more than the usual pleasant greeting. Customers were arriving one after the other, and she hurried inside, as though someone in the building had called to her.

  “If anything, I imagine she was greeting us thanks to your drinking habits,” said Lawrence.

  “Oh ho. Then she ought to have waved an empty glass instead of her hand.”

  “Does that mean I should’ve waved my lightened coin purse?”

  “Heh-heh. Yes, just so.”

  Such was their banter as they walked through the twilight town.

  Lawrence often found summer post-sunset hour to be excessively melancholy, and as such did not like it, but winter’s was just the opposite.

  The air was cool and dry, and being covered in the dust of a hard day’s work, delicious food and drink surely awaited them in a warm room somewhere, one that glowed with lamplight. It was no different from Holo’s thinking, and doubtless that feeling was what led her to drag them to taverns and loosen the strings of his coin purse.

  Such thoughts occupied Lawrence’s mind as he walked beside Holo, and eventually they came to a certain building. A signboard with an earthen mortar affixed to it hung from the eaves, indicating that it was an apothecary’s shop.

  In most towns, herbs and spices fell into the purview of the apothecary.

  Various dried herbs of suspicious provenance hung from the eaves in bunches, and inside the cramped little shop were rows of baskets containing even more herbs.

  But farther inside, the shopkeeper was bent over, tidying up after the day’s business, and when he noticed Lawrence and Holo, his breath came out in a white puff as he smiled apologetically. “Customers, at this hour? I was just about to close up shop.”

  “Could we browse just a bit?”

  “So long as you aren’t long,” replied the shopkeeper, arranging the small bottles and casks on a shelf.

  “Thank you very much,” said Lawrence with a smile.

  Next to him, Holo waited for the shopkeeper to stick his nose back into the shelves before she whispered into Lawrence’s ear, “He was looking at me as he said that.”

  “He probably thinks I’m some fool merchant a town girl has tricked into buying a scented sachet or some such thing.” Lawrence shrugged, and Holo stifled a laugh.

  “Even if it smells good, it still leaves your belly empty.”

  “I figured you’d say that.”

  As they chatted, they smelled each of the herbs lined up in front of the shop. Black herbs, blue herbs, deep green herbs, red herbs, yellow herbs. There were even some made from dried flowers or dried fruits, and many that, upon asking the shopkeeper their names, Lawrence discovered he had never heard of before.

  For Holo’s part, she delivered her opinions in turn as she sampled the scents. “Good for putting on tough meat. Good for putting in bad wine. Good for putting on burnt bread.” Such harshly scented herbs as these were not good for improving the taste of good food so much as they were for covering up the taste of bad food – or so Holo was saying with much disapproval.

  In any case, Holo’s nose and her ability to tell the scents apart was enough to make even the shopkeeper’s eyes go wide in surprise, but it was no shock to someone who knew exactly what she was.

  But what did surprise Lawrence was when the impressed shopkeeper, upon recognizing Holo’s magnificent nose, brought out several small baskets for her to sample.

  “I’ve a favor to ask, if you wouldn’t mind.”

  Holo looked at Lawrence, then back to the shopkeeper.

  “This one and this one. Also this and this. Here, too – lately there are rumors of fakes circulating. I’ve been doing an apothecary’s work for thirty years, but sometimes even I find myself fooled by the fakes. I hear sometimes they train dogs to sniff out the scents nearer the fakes, but… would you consider lending me your nose?”

  Evidently every business had its troubles.

  Holo was obviously displeased, but Lawrence cannily answered the shopkeeper. “This girl once worked in a noble house, whose mistress was a great lover of spices. She naturally developed quite a sense for them working there, you see, and that’s why I keep her near.”

  It was a circuitous explanation, but the shopkeeper was no amateur. He nodded immediately. “Do not worry,” he said. “If she can tell the fakes from the genuine article,
I’d be prepared to thank her appropriately.”

  He placed a weight on one side of a set of scales and then balanced it with an amount of copper coins.

  The deal was done.

  “Well then, Holo.”

  “Er… hmm… good wheat bread, then.”

  A bit of red dye would tint the whole barrel, the old saying went. Holo made her request, and Lawrence immediately nodded.

  Evidently the spice the shopkeeper had at hand was rather valuable, as the amount he had proposed to Lawrence was a tidy sum. There would be money left over even after buying Holo the bread she craved. He did not mind, as long as the entirety of this unexpected profit was not used up.

  “Ah,” murmured Lawrence to himself.

  Holo sniffed at a sprig of herb that the shopkeeper gave her and looked up at him. “What makes you say that?” she asked Lawrence.

  “Oh, nothing. I just remembered something I need to do. I’ll be right back – just stay here.”

  Holo looked none too pleased, but the shopkeeper seemed to be fine with any arrangement that included Holo staying there and sniff testing his wares.

  Lawrence lightly patted Holo’s shoulder and walked off without waiting for her to reply.

  He walked quickly through the town streets, making for his destination. The streets were more crowded now, with people hurrying home.

  The coins in his coin purse jingled.

  Once Lawrence finished his errand, he returned to the shop, where he found Holo and the shopkeeper drinking wine.

  He was extolling the virtues of apothecaries as he drank, so evidently the smell-detection work had finished.

  The shopkeeper was the first to notice Lawrence, and he emerged from the front of the shop with a great smile on his face, as though he was about to pick Lawrence up in a warm embrace. “Well, well! Your girl’s nose is truly a wonder. Dunking the fake in wine soon revealed the lie! I very nearly took a terrible loss,” he said.

  “I’m pleased to hear it. I see you’ve added wine to her payment.”

  “It’s nothing compared with the loss I would’ve suffered. And of course, my consideration will be a generous one,” he said and hurried back inside his shop.

  Holo was drinking wine with a very satisfied look on her face, and given that she had already been drunk earlier that same evening, the look in her eye was a bit suspicious.

  “You’ve drunk too much.”

  “Hmm? I’ve finished a hard day’s work! And unlike a certain someone who did nothing but tuck the profit away in their coin purse, I’m quite tired.”

  Perhaps angry at having been left behind, she shoved her finger at Lawrence’s chest, and her eyes were surprisingly serious.

  In lieu of an apology, Lawrence plucked an herb fragment away from the corner of Holo’s mouth. He sniffed it; it was an herb often said to go well with wine.

  “Given that, I suppose you weren’t able to do what we originally came here to do?”

  At Lawrence’s words, Holo drank more wine in noisy gulps and replied in an aggrieved tone, “Searching for a scent that wolves don’t like means essentially that I have to put my nose to things I myself hate. Why must I do such a thing, pray tell?”

  It was unclear whether she was speaking purposefully or whether it was just the wine, but in any case Holo was clearly upset at Lawrence leaving her behind. Lawrence sighed softly and took the wine cup from Holo’s hand.

  She had not been expecting this, evidently, and stared at the wine cup taken from her hand as though it was a truly mysterious thing.

  “My wine?” she said, dazed.

  She was quite charming when she was like this, but instead of a reply, Lawrence produced something from his breast pocket.

  He had not left Holo behind to take care of an errand he’d “forgotten.” His destination had been a money changer or goldsmith or anywhere that an artisan who worked in iron or silver might be found.

  Since the shops were largely preparing to close, he’d had to force the issue to get what he needed. And it did not hurt that his request was a simple one.

  Lawrence produced the gift and handed it to Holo.

  It was a schmie coin, with a hole put in it, hung on a thread.

  “Is this…?”

  “I can spare a single silver piece. And a dignified image like this one suits you.”

  Holo looked closely at the coin, then back up at Lawrence.

  Her eyes were moist (perhaps that was the wine), but Lawrence knew he would never forget her shy smile in that moment for as long as he lived.

  “Still,” said Holo to Lawrence, “if I wear something like this, it might well keep me from encountering my kind during our travels.”

  Given that the schmie coin was used as a wolf ward, Lawrence took Holo’s point. He took the string from which the coin dangled and affixed it about her neck. “Then wear it only when we’re in a town.”

  Holo let him do as he wished, putting a question to him as he drew near to pass the thread under her hair. “What do you mean by that?”

  The wine-blended scent that tickled Lawrence’s nose was not any spice or oil; it was Holo’s own faintly sweet scent.

  He was feeling rather bold. “To keep away the wolves of the towns.”

  Holo stiffened in such sudden surprise that Lawrence was glad he had taken her wine cup away.

  Her ears pricked up so stiffly that they nearly dislodged her kerchief, and, unable to contain her mirth, Holo doubled over in laughter.

  Just then the shopkeeper emerged, bringing their consideration, and his eyes went wide at the scene.

  Lawrence gave the man a rueful smile, just as Holo righted herself and took Lawrence’s arm. “Bah-hah-hah-hah. Oh, you’re a fool, you are. A grand fool.”

  “Not bad, eh?”

  “Keh-heh-heh!” Holo continued laughing and straightened herself. “That was the foulest one today.”

  “Foul enough to keep wolves from bothering us?”

  Holo grinned.

  Lawrence received the payment from the shopkeeper – who was quite taken aback at Holo’s laughter – and returned to him coin enough to pay for the wine Holo had drunk.

  The shopkeeper tried to hire Holo on the spot, but of course was turned down. Lawrence led Holo off as they began to walk.

  She clung tightly to Lawrence’s arm, still giggling, and did not immediately let go.

  It was as the stars were beginning to twinkle in the sky that a memory called to Lawrence. “Oh, that’s right. If it was truly so foul…”

  “Hmm?”

  “… Then you shouldn’t mind the burning peat so much anymore, eh?”

  Holo, already teary-eyed from laughter, chuckled again and took a deep breath. “I concede it! You win.”

  At her breast hung the silver schmie piece.

  In the twilight, the regal wolf on its face seemed to sigh a long-suffering sigh.

  The Wolf and the Silver Sigh

  Looking back, she had come quite a distance from the wagon.

  Teasing the family of hares had been good fun, but evidently she had gotten carried away. She gave the sash about her waist a flutter, smiling at the hares as if to say, “Playtime’s over!” Whereupon the doe and kit looked at each other, then hopped off about their business.

  “Now then,” she said and began to return to her own den. It was a strange den, though – made of iron and wood, wheeled, and pulled behind a horse.

  Occasionally it was filled with goods, but at the moment it was carrying little of note, which made it most pleasant. When the wagon was too heavily loaded, it was cramped and uncomfortable, and when it carried nothing, it was too cold.

  But with enough space between the wooden crates, canvas could be stretched between them, enclosing the space and making it quite cozy, as well as serving as good protection from the wind. Then some grain sacks for pillows and plenty of blankets to curl up under, and she could lie there and count the planks in the crates or look up at the sky.

  Today the
weather was fine, which meant the blankets would be delightfully warm. Just imagining it was enough to make her yawn, especially given that she’d just eaten her midday meal.

  Human mouths had their troublesome cheeks and were thus a bit cramped, but only humans could raise their arms to stretch while they yawned.

  Though she could not help feeling that the wolf body, to which she’d become accustomed over the centuries was her true form, she did not dislike her human form, though it came with some inconveniences. After all, her human form came with the queer human habit of wearing their decorations. While a wolf might give some consideration to her own coat, that hardly compared with human activities.

  To put it in wolf terms, it was like being able to change the color of her fur every morning, depending on her mood. How could that be anything but delightful?

  But of course her greatest delight was in showing her many looks to someone and seeing their reactions.

  And to that end, her traveling companion was second to none. A muffler and a robe was all it took to elicit a great fuss.

  If there was a problem, it was that these decorations cost money. She felt it something of a disgrace for her, a wisewolf, to worry about human money, but given that she was traveling in human form with a human, it could not be helped.

  Moreover, her companion was a traveling merchant and was tiresomely attached to his money. Even the stop at this very field, which he had said was because of the pleasant weather and the need to stop for the midday meal, was obviously for some other reason as well.

  He had been distracted the previous evening, and when she had spoken to him, he had given only vague replies. Only minutes ago during their meal, his gaze was off in the distance, as it had been the whole while, and he had not even noticed her steal two separate pieces of cheese.

  As for what her companion was thinking about, it seemed to be the coins and pelts they had seen in town.

  There was an exhausting variety of both coins and pelts that circulated in the human world, and evidently the rates of exchange between them were a cause of great concern. To wit: Black pelts could be traded for silver coins, and those white-silver coins exchanged for brown pelts, which would be traded for red-copper coins, which could be used to purchase black pelts again, but at a profit.