As he returned to his room and put his belongings in order, he felt like his body was being ripped apart. Even so, he clenched his teeth, telling himself that giving up was the right decision here.
He could not stop for someone bringing himself to the point of death.
Hilde was prepared to die for the sake of the dream in his heart; that was indeed his wish.
For but a single moment, Lawrence had become intermingled with Holo’s tragic story and so had come to cooperate with her.
He had been swept about right and left as a minor character on the stage; this did not bother him.
He was a merchant. He knew well enough what happened sooner or later to merchants that did not follow calculations of loss and profit.
He reminded himself of this as he packed up his things and moved to leave the room.
The moment he extended his hand toward the door, he heard the voice of a drunkard from outside the window.
“Ho, what’s this?”
Lawrence instantly understood that the man was rather drunk from his stupidly, pointlessly loud voice. Though that was nothing remarkable in a town in such high spirits, what sounded strange to his ears was what followed afterward.
“Hey, this is great. Ya found a great thing here, lad.”
“Grace of God, huh? This’ll make a great souvenir.”
“A tasty-lookin’ hare, ain’t it?”
Every hair on Lawrence’s body stood up at those words.
“Aw, it’s hurt. fled here from someone’s kitchen maybe?”
“Who cares about that. I don’t see anyone close so let’s take it with us.”
“Yeah, let’s do… mm? Oh, it’s still alive.”
Instantly, Lawrence cast his baggage aside and flew out of the room.
He rushed down the stairs, darted through the tavern, and plunged into the narrow, dark corridor.
He opened the back entrance door Hilde had left through only just before, flying into the street, looking left to right and back.
In the corner of a street not even a block away, a pair of drunks were looking toward the ground.
There was no mistake – it was Hilde who they were prodding with their feet.
“Hey, don’t run off now.”
“That’d be trouble. Snap ’is neck.”
“Oh? Ohh yeah, let’s do that.”
The man raised one foot.
The same moment, Lawrence yelled out.
“Please, wait!”
The night was getting late. Lawrence’s voice reverberated well; the two drunks noticed him immediately.
“Please, wait!”
“Mm?”
“That hare.”
Lawrence pointed as he ran. The drunks looked at their own feet.
They looked at the wounded, limp hare and then looked back at Lawrence.
“Whaaat? You tryin’ to swipe this hare from under our noses?”
It was a crudely spoken threat that could only be explained by booze.
Lawrence did not have time to discuss this. He did not know if the vigilantes might hear the ruckus and come. If one of the men who was after Hilde were among them that would be the end of that.
“No, that hare ran off in the middle of the cooking. I’ve been looking for it the whole time since. So this is in thanks.”
Instead of drawing his dagger from his hip, Lawrence loosened his money bag and fished out silver coins. He would not be called stingy. One silver trenni per person, two pieces altogether. By rights, that was enough to purchase an entire cage filled with hares.
As the drunkards saw his hand push the coins toward them, they were at a loss for words.
And the moment after they realized the value of what they held in their hands, they practically jumped as they distanced themselves from the hare.
“Ah, er, sorry ’bout that. Had no idea he’d run off from a nobleman’s house.”
There was no way anyone normal would have offered silver trenni for a single hare.
The drunks looked at each other and ran off, fearful of the consequences.
Lawrence watched their backs as the pair ran off. He then looked down at Hilde.
He was wounded, on his side, his fur pathetically exposed.
Like this, it was enough to doubt whether he was alive at all.
Hilde no longer had anyone left he could ask for aid.
Perhaps his allies had fled in fear; Lawrence knew not if they had even betrayed him.
He understood that at the very least, lying upon the road, disgracefully exposed like this, no one would come to his aid. He had narrowly avoided being killed by a drunk just a few moments before.
Until but a short time ago, he was in the midst of a grand scheme that ought to have made him akin to the conqueror of the world. But what came instead was ignominiously betrayed and abandoned, and now he was fighting hard to recover. He was in the vortex of a tale so dramatic that he could not make any complaint – a tale of having been felled by betrayal on the very cusp of the success of one’s dream.
For everyone who succeeded in the world, their successes were thanks to the many who had failed, their own tales vanishing into the darkness. Hilde was soon to join them.
Even so, together with the Debau Company, Hilde had shown Lawrence and other town merchants a dream, if only for one moment. He would never forget that elation, as if they could conquer the whole world.
But they had lost to the lords, or rather, to the lord-like avarice mixed with old blood. No doubt they had faced many challengers in the past, all having fallen without anyone knowing.
Lawrence still was not inclined to join in. Practical problems stood in the way; more than anything else, however, they had to have been well resolved before crossing this dangerous bridge.
But he had become inclined to help.
Where there was life, one could recover. What would become of him if he lost sight of what was important?
After all, it was also the truth that accomplishing great deeds was not the only meaning to life.
Lawrence lifted Hilde’s tiny body into his arms, returned to the inn to retrieve the two letters, and put his things in order.
A little while later, he safely caught up to Luward and the others.
Hilde’s small body was like the corpse of a dream.
Chapter 8
“And so, the great and mighty merchant goes out with a whimper.”
Luward spoke as he lifted Hilde’s body, whose shoulder had only just been sewn up, with his fingers. As he had not spoken to the men about Hilde, those ordered to heal the hare had been bewildered. His wound sutured and salved, he now slept like the dead inside a wicker cage. The mercenaries had apparently been making crude jokes about this being tonight’s supper.
Lawrence and the others were on the outskirts of Lesko, not very far removed from the town.
There was not a single cloud in the sky. He could see the pretty twinkling of the stars.
In turn, the cold was fierce. The members of the company huddled under blankets near fires they had lit with dead grass gathered from the roadside to get as warm as they could. They sent longing gazes toward the wagon bed of Lawrence’s wagon, but they did not ask why someone so out of place was in a place like this. Their gazes were filled with longing for a quick decision.
“It’s some ways away, but heading south may be a wise choice.”
Moizi spoke as he spread a map over the bed of Lawrence’s horse-drawn wagon.
“Lenos, eh? If by some chance the Debau Company bunch want to put us to the slaughter, a large army attacking over flat ground would wipe even our unit out in an instant, yes?”
“Yes. However, if we head north, we shall be pursued as rebels, but if we go south, they have no just cause to attack us.”
Great violence was often senseless, but it seemed even they needed a cause, no matter how thin.
“Well, I suppose in Lenos it would be easier to rendezvous with Miss Holo.”
“Indeed, it
would. There are no proper towns or villages to the east or west. A good plan would be to quietly head downriver and wait for things to cool down, then head back to Tolkien. Even the Debau Company would surely not advance an army against Lenos.”
The dominion of Ploania was just south of Lenos. Without doubt, sending an army there would provoke the king and nobles. Certainly, it was unlikely they would do such a foolish thing.
“What do you think, Mr. Lawrence? Is this acceptable?”
Lawrence could not really wrap his head around his participation in this conference to decide where the storied mercenary company would march. Asking him, Where do you want your goods pillaged midroute? and Where do you want to be killed? would have been better grounded in reality by far.
“I think it is a good plan.”
“All right. It’s settled, then.”
Luward stood up, hopped down from the wagon bed, and grandly strode forward.
As he did so, the squirming mercenaries gathered to him, like children around a clown that had appeared in the town square.
With a flap of his overcoat and a great wave of his hand, Luward announced his decision. He spoke frankly and clearly and brooked no complaint.
It seemed they would be marching by night. For that reason, he first ordered preparations for a nighttime meal to fill their bellies. That instant, like little children, the soldiers raised both hands with a great shout.
As Lawrence gazed at the sight, Moizi watched him in turn while deftly rolling up the large map. Suddenly, Moizi spoke.
“Mr. Lawrence, is something wrong?”
“Eh?”
Lawrence thought he must have been referring to the meal, but Moizi moved his chin in the direction of the wagon’s draft horse as he continued.
“If so, I’ll have someone lead your horse. It would not do for us to be separated in the middle of marching at night, after all.”
In other words, a traveling merchant with little endurance should meekly sleep on top of the wagon bed.
But even if that was the case, he did not have the confidence to be the only exception with mercenaries walking all around him.
He was sure Moizi meant well, but he had to walk.
“No, I’ll walk. After all…” Lawrence’s answer seemed to put special emphasis on the last part. “… Holo will no doubt be running all night without rest.”
Moizi’s hand stopped rolling up the map and slapped his own forehead. “My apologies. I spoke in haste.”
They were such serious people. If all mercenaries were like this, he would really have to revise his general impression of them a bit.
“But you are sure about this?”
Having finished rolling up the map, Moizi tied it with a horsehair cord and handed it to a youngster sitting idle on the edge of the wagon bed.
When Holo rummaged around in the wagon, it looked very broad, but with Moizi, it looked rather cramped.
“The forbidden book will likely be all for naught.”
“… Certainly that is true.”
As Lawrence replied, he looked toward Hilde, sleeping like the dead in the wicker cage. “He should realize it’s time to quit. The larger a company, the less it is something that can be driven by a single person. Now that he’s completely lost internal control, there’s surely nothing more he can do.”
“Mmm… so he should live to trade again, in other words.”
“These are the narrow thoughts of a traveling merchant, mind you.”
A ration of alcohol was given to all in advance of the night meal.
Moizi accepted his own jug from the youngster and put it down on the wagon bed.
“I think you are correct in this. Although… it does have a slightly tiresome side to it, I must admit.”
Many people simply enjoyed a life of battle. To them, Lawrence’s way of thinking surely seemed that of a small-time, timid merchant.
Even so, what stopped him from reacting visibly to this implication was that their judgment was not all that far off.
But Luward, who had returned at some point after finishing giving orders to those around them, stood right behind Moizi and spoke. “That seems different than what you told me, Moizi.”
“Y-young master?”
“Don’t call me that. So what, you pounded practicality into me over and over when you’re the one drunk on war romance?”
As Luward twisted his words like a knife, Moizi, his face austere even under normal circumstances, made a still sterner face.
Luward laughed at Moizi’s look and agilely leaped back up onto the wagon bed.
“Either way, I’m not supporting Mr. Lawrence’s judgment here. The Debau Company rubs me the wrong way, whether it’s the old guard or the new guard.”
If Hilde and Debau blazed the way for a new era, others, like Luward and his men, would be left behind along with the old world.
In that sense, perhaps that was why Luward felt so friendly with the current Debau Company.
“What’s sad is how we have to help a company that plans to treat us as disposable. Certainly we’d make money. It might be profitable, but…” Luward paused mid-sentence to take a sip of liquor as a youngster brought over the evening meal. It was simple – bread sandwiching sausage – but in this cold, it surpassed any feast. “Only in money. A bit of drink and merrymaking and it’s gone.”
This said, Luward wolfed down three mouthfuls worth of bread.
Certainly, if one only made enough money to eat, once they ate, it was gone.
“How about you, Mr. Lawrence? You’re a merchant. Have you ever thought about that?”
As the conversation was passed to Lawrence, he was biting into his sausage, which left a bit of grease on his face.
Luward’s question seemed hot and oily in its own right.
“In the town of Lenos, there was a merchant who was such a miser even I was taken back.”
“Really.” Luward and Moizi both took great interest as they looked at him.
“This incredible person earned money over and over, using without conscience not only the lives of others, but his own life as well. I heard about this man. And I encountered him, with sword and knife pointed at me, in a seemingly abandoned warehouse.”
The two mercenaries’ eyes widened in surprise for a moment; then, they made smiling faces like innocent children.
“I asked him, why do you desire money so much? Is it not like trying to drink up an ocean?”
Lawrence could not remember the face Eve had made at the time. It was not important at the time. Even so, he remembered the tone of her voice to the present day.
That innocent, powerful, and somewhat sad tone of voice.
“Because he needed to see, he said.”
“To see…” Luward alone repeated it back. Moizi firmly bit his lip, moving his thick neck and tugging on his chin.
“To see.” The young head of the mercenary company repeated it once more, gradually shifting his gaze into the distance.
The response stuck like a piece of paper in a bird’s craw, but his eyes easily leaped and trailed away.
“He might have made a good warrior.”
And laughing as he spoke, Luward returned his gaze to Lawrence.
“Wonder if he’d come if we sent an offer his way. What do you think, Moizi?”
“Mmm… certainly, he might become a fine warrior. However, he surely lacks the personality to follow orders. If it is in his interests, he is capable of working with others, no matter how reckless the plan. However, if it is not in his interests, he can betray you no matter how friendly he is. It is a characteristic of many who have things expected of them somewhere else rather than here.”
It was so precise an assessment it was as if Moizi had seen Eve with his own eyes.
Luward raised a dissatisfied-looking eyebrow, but as Lawrence nodded, the mercenary breathed a heavy sigh, like a child whose playtime had been interrupted midway. “So you’ve been betrayed, too, Mr. Lawrence.”
�
��Holo became a pawn, and in the end, before I’d even realized it, even my own life came to be at stake.”
Luward whistled through his lips as Moizi stuffed his mouth with the last of the bread. “Merchants are frightening. The fact they don’t look it makes them even more frightening.”
He looked toward the wicker cage in which Hilde slept as he spoke.
“There’s a limit to how large a sword a man can swing. However, there’s no limit to the amount a merchant may write on a piece of paper. Here they have failed, but merchants might truly be the rulers of the world someday.”
Luward’s left hand had been holding the hilt of his sword for some time.
The expressionless way he looked down at Hilde was like a king who is thinking of cutting down his foe while still a powerless baby so that the child might not grow up to someday usurp his crown.
“That might be so, but today is not that day. So, we shall fight on till that day comes.”
Moizi’s words made Luward raise an eyebrow, looking slightly annoyed.
It was as if telling a child that one did not take a life in vain.
“… Still, strife in the northlands does worry me somewhat.” With a rattle, Luward’s hand came off the hilt of his sword as he spoke. “I don’t think there’s any reasonable chance anyone can stop them with the momentum they have now. I’ve heard that opponents are gathering in Svernel, but it’s no use.”
This was the veteran mercenary’s assessment of the town to which Hilde sent his letter requesting aid.
So indeed, if Lawrence delivered the letter, he would only be putting his own life in peril. It was a selfish thought, but having laid hands on an excuse, he felt his mood brighten just a little.
“I wonder what Miss Holo plans to do. Perhaps she can slow conflict down even a little?”
Holo’s mind was already set. She would surely do no such thing. No doubt she would do like Hugues, the sheep art seller, and would match the flow of the world as well as she could, pretending not to see.
As Lawrence shook his head side to side, Luward’s own chest seemed pained as he tugged his chin and nodded. “It is a hard decision but one that must be made. She is indeed impressive.”
“We, too, must work so that we bring no shame to our own banner,” said Moizi.
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