“Damned right we will. But first, we’ll change the course of our advance and wait and see.”
He said retreat without actually saying it. It seemed he really was fond of that line.
“Although it’s good to do a night march like this after so long. Nice if it stays clear.” As Luward spoke, he raised his hand to shield his eyes as he looked up at the sky, acting like it was the middle of the day.
Right now there was not a single cloud as the pretty stars twinkled in the cold night sky.
“Snow might be all right, but rainfall would be troublesome.”
They could manage with snow; for the cloud cover to be thick enough for rain, it had to be unseasonably warm.
Lawrence had that in mind as he spoke, but Luward laughed as he tilted his neck.
“I’m not worried ab out rain or snow. I’m worried about whether we see the morning sun.”
“Morning sun?”
“Yeah. I love seeing the morning sun when marching in the dead of night. What’s even better is that even if you’re all chewed up from battle, not one person makes a complaint. When you’ve been going all night – What’ll become of us? Is there relief ahead? Why’d this happen to us? and so on – it’s the best.”
Luward’s speaking in such high spirits brought a pained smile to Moizi.
“Blood and sweat are like flies buzzing about a corpse with the stench of death; you can never wipe them away. When darkness sticks to your hands, it stays with you like blood; you can never leave it behind. But the moment the sun emerges, all is washed away that instant. When you see that morning sun…” Luward closed his eyes, and as if remembering that very scene, he made a pause in the hymn, then continued, “… You can’t quit the mercenary life.”
No doubt they thought this in particular because their livelihood depended on endless war.
One really did have to cut away all the bad and let it all wash away. It had to be a very good feeling.
But as a merchant, Lawrence would rather take action before a situation became desperate, if at all possible.
“Well, it does look like we’ll see a really beautiful one this time.”
Having left town in defiance of the Debau Company, there had been no sign of any pursuit from them. Besides, Luward and Moizi had said there would probably not be an attack without some kind of just cause.
They would arrive at the town of Lenos with little difficulty and would rendezvous with Holo, who was not far now.
Bringing Hilde to Lenos with them as well, he would surely calm down and rethink things.
It was best to think of what to do afterward when the time came.
Taking Holo to Yoitsu would be good, but if Holo would forgive it, Lawrence would like to wrap up his own business first. It would mean a fair detour, but there were many places a traveling merchant must visit before spring came in earnest.
And if he and Holo were to begin a new life together, there were numerous things he would like to liquidate.
“Well, we’ve stuffed our bellies so it’s time to be off.” As Luward spoke, Moizi slowly rose up.
Traveling at night with a ghost seemed far more likely than traveling in the middle of a mercenary company. Lawrence wanted to laugh at the absurdity before his eyes. However, on the bed of his wagon rode the right-hand man of a mineral trader unheard of in any prior era. Furthermore, he, a hare incarnate, was fighting fiercely to bring peace to the northlands.
And all of this had been made possible by a chance encounter.
However, in the end, the world was a cloth woven between each and every person in it; the power of an individual was not great. As Luward had said, even this exceptional merchant went “out with a whimper.”
Though the splendor of his commercial profits ascribed to him a God-like halo, as if everything he touched turned to gold, no such thing actually occurred.
Perhaps that was part of why Holo so quickly realized that she could not solve everything in the world with her fangs.
Her power had limits.
For his part, Hilde had been easily wounded by a sword, had lost all his influence as a grand merchant, was nearly killed by drunks, and now slept in a wicker cage. His form looked frail – no more and no less than a hare.
Perhaps realizing this in the bottom of one’s heart was what made people see the world with open eyes.
“No one misplaced anything?” Luward asked very casually.
At those words, Lawrence spontaneously looked in the direction of Lesko.
For a while, he really wanted to see that store set up. He had in fact paid the deposit. But he had completely given up on that dream now. One had to give up many things for the sake of a new travel route, which was why travelers did not stay long in a village with many gentle souls.
Very soon now, what he might have done in Lesko would be an amusing tale, one he thought would be good to tell with Holo by his side. So, Lawrence raised his face and moved to reply to Luward.
The sooner we go, the better. Life is short, after all.
It was not his own fault that his voice did not come out. It was because Luward’s face seemed to be saying, “Oh my.” He had no time to even think, What is it all of a sudden?
From behind Lawrence, they heard a painful, stuttering voice.
“I– mis… placed…”
“Mr. Hilde!” Chasing after the path of Luward’s surprised gaze, Lawrence turned to see the wounded hare in the wicker cage desperately raising his head.
“… some… thing…” It was as if his consciousness was hazy, perhaps due to fever from the wounds. His tiny head swayed, and one eye was not opening properly. Even so, he was desperately determined to tell them something.
Hilde still had some attachment to Lesko – some regret of some kind.
Luward closed the distance.
“Hey, you rabbit bastard.” Luward thrust a single rough finger at the hare, one eye still closed, perhaps due to the wounds sapping his endurance. “You lost your war. Get it through your head. We’re heading south. If you don’t wanna die, shut your mouth and curl up right there. Understand?”
The hare was so frail merely raising his head made him shake, but Lawrence did not find Luward’s display particularly untoward. A mercenary company had to act as a group. If head and mouth were not in accord, the hands and feet would fall into disorder.
“Do you understand?”
Finally, Luward lifted the powerless Hilde’s chin and turned his face to the side, like what was done with oppressed slaves. His eyes only seemed dimly open, as if he had a concussion.
“Maybe I should say, as expected of a merchant of the Debau Company? I’ll give you credit for being stubborn.”
“C-certainly, it is a temperament wasted on a hare.”
Unsurprisingly, even Moizi was thrown off by the sight of a talking hare before his eyes. He was a steadfast, loyal mercenary. He displayed respect for any party who merited it, even a hare.
Moizi used his too-thick fingers to politely pull the blanket, which had slipped, back over him.
And, just as Luward stood up to give orders to his subordinates…
“I l-left…”
The sound of the shaking voice made Luward turn around.
“… l-letters.”
And a look approaching shock came over Luward’s face. “Letters, you say?” But those open eyes and that exhausted chin contained a seething rage under the surface. “Hey, is that true?”
Luward brushed Moizi aside and thrust his hand into the wicker cage.
“Hey, wake up!”
And just as if trying to force a drunk to wake up, Luward grabbed him by the collar and shook hard enough to make his head shake.
Of course Moizi intervened to stop him. Hilde remained completely limp, his long ears seemingly very heavy.
He had left a letter.
With one sentence, Hilde had driven a rusted wrench into the gears of Luward’s mind.
“Shit! Letters, letters, he said?!�
�
Luward took his hand off Hilde’s throat. He returned the small, exhausted hare’s body to the cage.
“Yeah, it’s possible… If he asked Mr. Lawrence, then… it’s possible. Very possible…”
Irritated, Luward gazed at the surface of the wagon bed, repeating himself in rapid succession.
And suddenly, he raised his head.
“Mr. Lawrence.”
It was an intense gaze that suddenly made Luward seem taller.
Those wide-open eyes that had just been gazing longingly at the twinkling stars seemed more like a beast’s than a man’s.
“You were the last one to meet him. But I was careless and forgot to ask you.
“I thought all of this was over after all.”
Luward’s eyes gazed at Lawrence as if peering directly into Lawrence’s head.
“I get that his final wish was for you to request aid. But what does that mean in real terms?”
That instant, the matter of the letter floated into the back of Lawrence’s mind. Hilde had been on the verge of death when he used his nearly last gasps to reach the back entrance of the once-more silent inn, entrusting him with two copies of a letter – letters to Svernel and the lords within, saying Help me. Lawrence finally understood the effect of the pin Hilde had driven home.
In other words, Hilde’s letters requesting aid demonstrated beyond all doubt who the Debau Company’s current enemies were. So if Hilde had gone to Lawrence for aid, was it unthinkable he had requested aid from others as well? For example, from the storied and esteemed mercenary company filled with crack troops that had been stationed at the inn just earlier? It was not so difficult to imagine.
As if a youngster confessing an irrevocable mistake, Lawrence sucked in his breath and said this.
“He entrusted me with letters requesting aid in halting the Debau Company’s current momentum from those arrayed in opposition to it.”
Lawrence withdrew the two letters from his breast. He thought it would have been best to tear up and burn them.
At the very least, to do so for those entrusted to him.
A natural thought, but that would do nothing for any others.
In Hilde’s situation, it would not have been strange to have left behind letters he had written but not disposed of. Or rather, there was a high probability he had left them on purpose.
After all, at that inn, it was still highly likely Lawrence would try to persuade him to give up. Considering Hilde’s own physical strength was near its limit, Hilde must have thought it entirely possible Lawrence would whisk him outside of the town regardless of his own consent.
Once he left the town, it would be difficult to persuade anyone to fight the Debau Company. Even with Hilde’s strenuous efforts, it was difficult. What to do?
Have the Debau Company come after him. For example, he could leave a letter in a conspicuous place requesting aid from the Myuri Mercenary Company, or failing that, one that said, “Thank you for your assistance.”
Upon finding such a letter, the Debau Company would dispatch assassins to eliminate potential complications. Failing that, they might simply make an example. In either case, the Debau Company had a reason to pursue.
If it had been Lawrence in Hilde’s position, he would probably have left a letter of thanks in a conspicuous place himself.
“To Mr. Luward Myuri of the Myuri Mercenary Company. Thank you for hearing my request. Let us take back the Debau Company, hand in hand.”
“You got us good, you rabbit bastard,” Luward muttered in loathing, as if his teeth were clenched and he was growling right through them. At this point, they could not return to Lesko to check and make sure. Like a demon, no one could prove whether the letters existed or not.
But if it meant sending the Myuri Mercenary Company’s strength to Svernel, Hilde would absolutely have written them. In the face of the suspicion that they might have joined forces with Hilde, the Myuri Mercenary Company could no longer head south.
After all, the only route to Lenos was over a wide-open plain, making them the perfect target for the Debau Company’s overwhelming military might. No matter how mighty the Myuri Mercenary Company was, if chased on an open plain, the force larger in number would be certain of victory. On the other hand, the narrow mountain roads that continued all the way to Svernel would allow them to make up for the numerical disparity.
Yet it was also quite possible this was a complete bluff on Hilde’s part.
Though possible, if it was indeed true, heading south would bring the Myuri Mercenary Company’s long history to an end.
It was plain even to Lawrence, with his thin knowledge of military affairs, that the Myuri Mercenary Company’s only hope of survival against Debau Company forces pursuing it was to flee into those narrow mountain roads.
When one was small, they needed to flee into small spaces to survive. It was an obvious truth.
Like a hare fleeing into a hare hole.
“Svernel… Svernel, eh…?”
Luward put his hand to his own forehead, repeating the word as if begging for relief. Lawrence himself had thought it reckless; Luward and Moizi had paid the idea no heed from the start.
No one would have by any normal measure of thinking.
However, Hilde’s stubbornness was not normal, nor was his way of thinking. The single utterance Hilde had dropped was so powerful a thing. If Holo had been by his side, she might have acknowledged it with a dazzling, fang-baring smile on her face.
He had chosen to expend the last of his truly limited strength on a few choice words selected for maximum effect, bearing maximum force, delivered at the most opportune moment. With but a few words, he had bound the will of the head of a mercenary company.
This was the surly right-hand man of the owner of the Debau Company.
Lawrence realized he was fiercely jealous of the difference between him and this other merchant.
“Going south is no longer an option. We would risk annihilation.” Moizi spelled it out. “Having said that, heading east or west would do nothing to clear up the suspicions directed at us. Also, there are plains in both directions. What, then, rush to Lenos as fast as we can? It’s no use. They have boats. They will catch up with us, and there will be battle. That must be avoided at any cost.”
“I know,” Luward said shortly.
Moizi nodded and continued, “Then, we must turn north. There is nothing that can shield us save the narrow mountain roads. And the one nearest to us” – as the excellent strategist he was, Moizi spoke plainly about the failure of their plan – “is the road to Svernel. As a key line of communication, it cannot be ignored.”
“In other words, we’re being driven like hares into a hole.”
The veteran strategist nodded gravely, for it was indeed exactly so.
But there was neither anger nor despair on his face.
There was only respect for Hilde the strategist.
“With a single arrow, he has upended the circumstances of the war. And he has accomplished this as a merchant with a single sentence.” Luward brushed aside his coat with a rustle, raising his face in what seemed like defeat. “No choice but to ride with it. Ride and dance nicely on his palm.”
And with that, he bounded down from the wagon bed, ordering the mercenaries to assemble.
Moizi followed in Luward’s wake, distributing various minor commands.
The only ones left were Lawrence and Hilde.
But Hilde had revealed a plan that had earned respect from both Luward and Moizi.
For his part, Lawrence was merely playing the fool. One was the right-hand man of the master of a great merchant company. The other was a mere traveling merchant. One might say that even being jealous was absurd.
Lawrence looked down at Hilde, who had fainted; he then averted his eyes.
The great merchant went out with a whimper?
A foolish judgment.
He was a traveling merchant himself.
That sentence
had viciously pierced Lawrence’s own heart.
In trade, some loss could not be avoided.
But there were losses that had to be avoided at all costs.
These were not long-term losses nor great losses, but the losses that could not be recovered from.
Surely it was no different for mercenaries.
When one made their living in something as uncertain as war, severe damage was surely not such a rare event. However, losses to the extent that none would succeed to carry their flag had to be avoided at all costs.
Therefore, to avoid annihilation, some undertakings were necessary despite their great risk.
As a result of Hilde’s plan, heading south carried with it the possibility of complete destruction. Therefore, the Myuri Mercenary Company changed course, entering the mountain road that led to Svernel.
If they were unable to put enough distance behind them while they still had cover of darkness, when the Debau Company determined the Myuri Mercenary Company to be an enemy and began pursuit, the mercenaries would be unable to implement strategies for escape. But advancing under darkness along a snow-packed road that was dangerous even in broad daylight only multiplied the dangers. One ran the risk of sliding down a sudden slope if they mistook something that was not a road for the road itself. The mercenaries organized themselves against that by dispatching a number of torch-bearing scouts that advanced forward while keeping track of one another’s location. Under normal circumstances, Lawrence would have surely been in admiration at the skill of it.
However, this was an army on the march with possibility hanging over them that an enormous enemy might assault them from the rear at any moment. Furthermore, Lawrence himself was nothing more than extra baggage. Rather, it was Hilde, who had created this circumstance, who deserved all the credit for the brilliance of his strategy. That was why, even as Hilde slept within the wicker cage, that cage had been moved from Lawrence’s wagon bed to one of the mercenary wagons that carried their equipment and supplies.
Having no feel for the land, Lawrence could not function as a guide, of course; neither could he work in tandem with the mercenaries. Furthermore, Lawrence’s horse-drawn wagon was fundamentally unsuited to traveling along mountain roads, and snow-covered roads all the more so; there was no small chance of the wagon wheels getting stuck.
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