Naturally he said none of this, simply raising the leather sack of freshly ground flour by way of thanks as he left the mill.
He ambled up the path that ran by the stream, deep in thought.
Evan claimed that Elsa would tell him even the number of sneezes she’d had in a day. The statement had left a strangely deep impression on Lawrence.
He could imagine Holo reporting the number of sighs she’d breathed in a day to convey her countless hardships and grudges.
What was the difference?
Then again, a stoic and lovable Holo would be downright eerie. Since she herself was not present, Lawrence couldn’t help but laugh at the very idea.
Upon returning to the village square, Lawrence saw a few stands now open—not enough to be called a proper marketplace, but there were more than a few villagers gathered.
Yet it seemed that the gathering was less about purchasing things and more about making affable small talk as the day began. There was none of the tense atmosphere that came with people straining to buy as cheaply as possible and selling as dearly as they could.
To hear Evan tell it, Enberch purchased all of Tereo’s wheat at a fixed price, and the people of Tereo could buy Enberch’s goods tax free.
It was hard to believe, but if that was true, it would explain the leisurely lives that Tereo’s citizens seemed to lead.
Villages were often subordinate to nearby towns, the villagers themselves trapped by the need to work day in and day out simply to afford the wine, food, clothing, and livestock that was necessary for everyday life, but that they were unable to produce themselves.
Such a village would sell its crops to a town and use the money to purchase what the villagers needed.
But in order to buy the various goods that had been brought to the town, they needed coin. The only way to raise cash was to sell their wheat to the town merchants, converting it to money, then to use the funds to buy goods from those same merchants.
The issue was that while the villagers needed money, the town merchants did not necessarily need the village’s wheat.
The power imbalance meant that the town could force the villagers to sell cheaply, then set the prices of their own goods high with things like tariffs.
The more dire a village’s financial situation, the more easily a town could take advantage of it.
Eventually the villagers would be forced to borrow money, and with no hope of repaying it, they would effectively become slaves, forced to send all their produce to the town.
To a traveling merchant like Lawrence, such slave towns represented excellent opportunities. Coin wielded terrible power in such places, and all sorts of goods could be bought for absurdly low prices.
But naturally, once a village had secured a source of money, it would be able to again resist the town’s influence, putting the town in a bad place. At that point, the arguments would become constant, endlessly repeated over this or that privilege—yet Tereo seemed free from any such fighting.
While he didn’t know how Tereo had avoided such a situation, Lawrence did have a sense of the problems and risks it faced as a result.
After buying some dried figs at a stand with a master who seemed to think that merely being open was enough, Lawrence returned to the inn.
When he got there, Holo was asleep on the bed, entirely free from the cares of the world. Lawrence laughed soundlessly.
She opened her eyes eventually as Lawrence rustled about in the room. Once her face finally emerged from underneath the blankets, the first word out of her mouth was “Food.”
Since he hadn’t been certain how long it would take them to get this far, Lawrence had been extremely thrifty with their provisions while they traveled. He decided they should finish off these first.
“There was this much cheese left? I only restrained myself because you said it wouldn’t last,” said Holo.
“Who said you could eat all of it? Half of that is mine.”
As soon as he picked up the cheese and cut it in half with a knife, Holo glared at him, her grudge obvious. “Did you not make a tidy profit in the last town?”
“Did I not explain to you that we’ve used it all already?”
In point of fact, he’d paid off his remaining liabilities in Kumersun as well as a town nearby in one fell swoop.
He did this partially as a precaution against their search for Yoitsu taking too much time—which could cause him to miss a payment deadline—and also because carrying too much cash was simply foolhardy.
Some money still remained after that, which he’d left with a trading company. A company’s power lay in its cash reserves. Of course, Lawrence was earning interest on that balance, but Holo didn’t need to know that.
“You only need to tell me once—I understand that. What I mean is, you made money, but I received nothing.”
It pained Lawrence to hear this.
The business in Kumersun got out of hand because of Lawrence’s misunderstanding, but Holo had received nothing for her trouble.
However, if he showed weakness now, the wolf’s grip would only tighten.
“How can you say something so shameless after eating and drinking so much?”
“In that case, shall we do a careful comparison of the coin you made and how much I’ve cost?”
Hit where it hurt, Lawrence looked away.
“You made quite a tidy sum with the rocks I bought from that bird woman, you did. Not to mention—”
“Fine, fine!”
With her ears able to discern any lie, Holo was worse than any tax collector.
If Lawrence struggled any further, it would only deepen the wound.
He gave up, thrusting the entirety of the cheese at Holo.
She chuckled. “Why, thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
It was surely rare to be thanked yet to remain as annoyed as Lawrence was.
“Ah, so are your inquiries proceeding?” asked Holo.
“More or less.”
“More or less? So you’ve found half the directions we need?”
Lawrence smiled. What he’d said could be interpreted that way, he had to admit. He thought for a moment, then replied, “If I’d gone to the church, I thought I’d get the same cold shoulder we got yesterday. So I went to see Evan at the millhouse.”
“Ah, going after the person whose relationship with the girl is not uncomplicated. ’Tis wiser than I’d expect from you.”
“…Yes, well.” Lawrence cleared his throat and got to the point. “Would you give up going to the abbey?”
Holo froze. “…And the reason would be?”
“There’s something strange about this village. It feels dangerous to me.”
Holo was expressionless. She chewed a piece of rye bread on which she’d spread some cheese. “So you’re not willing to risk danger to look for my home, then?”
So that’s how it’s going to be, Lawrence thought, clenching his jaw. “That’s not—wait, you’re doing that on purpose.”
“Hmph.” Holo chewed the piece of bread rapidly, swallowing it in the blink of an eye.
It was hard to know how many words she’d swallowed along with the bread, but her face made her displeasure clear enough.
Lawrence essentially understood her desire to reach the abbey and ask her questions as quickly as she could, but perhaps those desires were stronger than he realized.
But what little information he’d gathered in the village, along with the experience he had accrued as a merchant who had seen many other towns and villages, led him to believe that it would be dangerous to keep searching for the abbey’s location while in Tereo.
After all—
“If I’m right, I think the abbey we’re looking for is Tereo’s church.”
There was no change in Holo’s expression, save for the tufts of her ears standing up bottlebrush straight.
“I’m going to go through my reasoning point by point. Are you ready?”
Holo finger
ed an ear tuft, then nodded slightly.
“First, Elsa obviously knows where the abbey is but is pretending ignorance. If she’s hiding that information, it means that for whatever reason, she can’t talk about Church affairs. Also, when I went to the elder’s house yesterday asking the same question, he also seemed to know—and also pretended not to.”
Holo closed her eyes and nodded.
“Next, of all the buildings in the village, only the village elder’s house is grander than the church. Yet if you’ll think back to the conversations in the tavern yesterday, you’ll see that the Church doesn’t command much respect here. The villagers worship the local snake spirit that’s protected them for ages—not the God of the Church.”
“Still,” said Holo, “did they not speak of Father Franz as someone who’d done the village good?”
“They did. The elder said the same thing. So it’s clear that Father Franz did something to benefit the village—but it wasn’t saving them by preaching the word of God, which means he did something that materially benefited them. And I found out what that was just a while ago, talking to Evan.”
Holo was prodding a piece of bread with her finger. She cocked her head.
“Essentially, he created a contract between Tereo and Enberch that is disproportionately favorable to Tereo. That’s why everybody in the village can be so idle now that the wheat harvest is over. They don’t have any financial worries. And it was none other than Father Franz who made their lives what they are by negotiating a frankly unbelievably favorable contract with Enberch.”
“Mm.”
“So the dispute between Tereo and the Church in Enberch that Evan mentioned when we were first coming into town must be about this. Generally, internal Church disputes happen over who will take over vacated priesthood or bishop posts, trouble with the donation of lands, or arguments over religious doctrine. At first I assumed that the trouble was over Elsa—being so young and a woman—taking charge of the church. But even if that’s the reason on the face of it, the true cause is something else.”
Elsa wished above all else to inherit Father Franz’s position, a man in traveling clothes had appeared at the elder’s house while Lawrence was visiting, and Evan said that Elsa’s troubles had lifted the previous day.
Based on the map of relationships that Lawrence knew all too well, he came to understand the situation quickly.
“Enberch would want to destroy the relationship that currently exists between itself and Tereo. I don’t know how or when Father Franz managed to execute the contract, but I’m sure that Enberch wants it as dead as Father Franz is now. The fastest way would be by sheer force of arms, but unfortunately Tereo also has a church. We can assume that the reason Enberch didn’t resort to force long ago is because Tereo’s church has supporters. So what to do? They need the village’s church to disappear.”
The messenger that had arrived at the elder’s house the previous day might have brought a document from some distant church that recognized Elsa as Father Franz’s successor or a letter from some nobleman promising support.
Either way, it was clear that something had secured Elsa’s position.
“The villagers here make no secret that they worship a pagan spirit. If it was to be recognized as a pagan village proper, Enberch would have the excuse it needs to attack.”
“If it was so simple as knowing how to get to the abbey, there’d be no need to lie about it,” said Holo. “But if the abbey is in the village, they must hide it.”
Lawrence nodded and made his suggestion again. “So can we not abandon this? Given the situation, the abbey’s existence would be a perfect excuse for Enberch to attack, which means the people of Tereo will continue to hide it from us. And if, as I suspect, the abbey is the church, then the monk we’ve been looking for is Father Franz. His knowledge of the old pagan tales may have been buried with him. There’s no point in stirring up trouble when there’s nothing to be gained from it.”
Additionally, Lawrence and Holo had no way of proving they were unconnected to Enberch.
Most theologians were unwilling to accept the statement “I am not a demon” as proof that one was not, in fact, a demon.
“What’s more, this involves pagan spirits. If this goes badly, we could be branded as heretics, and we would be in real trouble.”
Holo sighed, scratching at the base of her ears. It seemed like she was having difficulty reaching the place that itched.
She appeared to understand that the situation facing them was grave, but she was unwilling to give up so easily.
Lawrence cleared his throat and tried again. “I understand that you want to gather information about your home, but I think there’s danger here that we should avoid. As far as the location of Yoitsu goes, the information we gathered in Kumersun should be more than enough. And it’s not as though you’ve lost your memory. We won’t have to go far to—”
“Listen, you—,” Holo interrupted suddenly, then snapped her mouth shut as if she’d forgotten what to say.
“Holo, hear me out.”
Hearing Lawrence call her name, Holo’s lip twisted slightly.
“So I don’t misunderstand again, I want you to tell me clearly. Just what are you hoping to learn from these pagan tales?”
Holo looked away.
Lawrence didn’t want his questions to sound like an interrogation, so he carefully modulated his tone as he spoke. “Do you want to know more about the bear spirit that…er, destroyed your home?”
Still looking askance, Holo did not respond.
“Or is it…something to do with your friends?”
These were the only possibilities Lawrence could think of.
For Holo to be so stubborn, it had to be one of those two things.
Maybe it was both.
“And if it is, what would you do?” Holo’s eyes were piercing and cold.
They were not the eyes of the proud wolf stalking its prey.
They were the eyes of a cornered animal that would attack all who dared approach.
Lawrence chose his words carefully. They came to him with surprising speed.
“Depending on circumstances, there are some risks I will take.”
In other words, the potential gain had to balance out the risk.
If Holo truly needed information about the hated bear spirit that had destroyed her home or about the fates of her old friends, Lawrence would not be unwilling to help.
Despite her youthful appearance, Holo was no child, and Lawrence expected that she could evaluate her own emotions and make logical decisions. If she did so and still asked for Lawrence’s help, he was prepared to respect her decision and to take the risks that she asked.
Holo suddenly relaxed her tensed shoulders and uncrossed her legs. “Fine, then.” She continued. “It is fine. You hardly need prepare yourself for an outburst from me.”
Of course, Lawrence knew better than to take Holo’s words at their face value.
“Hark now—given my way, I would want to slap that insolent girl in the face and make her tell me everything, given what you’ve said. Also, I simply wish to know all I can about Yoitsu. Would you not likewise want to hear tell of your home?”
Lawrence nodded his agreement. Holo returned his nod, looking satisfied.
“However, I find the idea of you risking danger for my sake a bit troubling. We have a fair notion of where Yoitsu lies, do we not?”
“Ah, yes.”
“Then we need not risk this.”
Despite Holo’s statement, Lawrence remained uneasy.
While he had been the one that suggested abandoning their inquiries, he was willing to support her decision.
Hearing her accede so readily made him wonder if she was lying.
He said nothing as he thought about this. Holo sat on the edge of the bed, placing her feet on the floor.
“Why do you suppose I do not speak of my hometown to you?” she asked.
Lawrence couldn’t help showing his s
urprise at the question.
Holo smiled faintly, though it did not seem as if she was making fun of him. “Now and again I remember things about my hometown, things I wish to boast of. Memories I wish to tell you. But I do not, because you are always so considerate—as you are being just now. I know that to complain that you are too kind is the height of selfishness. But it is a bit difficult for me.” As she spoke, she plucked at the fur of her tail. “Honestly, if you were simply a more perceptive male, I would not have to say such embarrassing things.”
“I’m…I’m sorry.”
Holo giggled. “Still, being softhearted is one of your few good points…It’s just a bit frightening for me.”
She stood up from the bed, turning her back to Lawrence.
Her tail, thick with its winter fur, swept back and forth quietly. She hugged herself, arms around her shoulders, then looked back at Lawrence. “Here I am, lonely and helpless, yet you do not leap to devour me. Truly you are a frightening male.”
Lawrence shrugged slightly under Holo’s gaze, which seemed to challenge him. “One must be careful. Some fruits are more sour than they look.”
Holo’s arms dropped to her sides, and she turned back around to face Lawrence, smiling. “Ah, ’tis true, they can be unbearably sour. But,” she said, slowly approaching him, her smile unwavering, “are you saying I’m not sweet?”
What’s sweet about someone who does things like this? Lawrence thought to himself. He nodded immediately, as if to say, “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“Oh, ho, you’ve some nerve.” Holo grinned.
“Some things need to be bitter to be tasty—ale, say,” Lawrence quickly added.
Holo’s eyes widened in apparent surprise before she quickly closed them, as if she’d slipped up and made a mistake. Her tail wagged as she said, “Hmph. Children shouldn’t drink liquor.”
“Oh, indeed—we can’t have them getting hungover.”
Holo pouted intentionally and thumped her fist against Lawrence’s chest.
Leaving her hand there, she lowered her gaze.
It felt somehow like they were acting in some kind of silly play.
Spice and Wolf, Vol. 4 Page 7