Spring Log

by Isuna Hasekura

  “What are you talking about?! You are a hero to us money changers—nay, the patron saint of trade! And your wife has not changed a bit since then! I knew right away!”

  Holo, who was spreading butter onto the fried lamprey, looked up as though she had been called.

  “It was ten…fifteen years ago? I can still remember your wife yelling bravely out the inn window. We still talk about how she crushed those depraved merchants’ schemes with such a beautiful speech! But there were some parts that stung us money changers.”

  Holo, not too interested, bit into the fried lamprey, then drank her ale to wash down the hot oil.

  But Lawrence felt proud when he heard what the president said.

  That was the last big adventure he and Holo undertook together.

  “Anyhow, without your accomplishments, the Debau Company would have decayed and become a boring company right about now, and the silver debau that brightened the entire northern region may never have been born. And there is no way this town would have grown as big as it did.”

  At the time, Lawrence and his companions found themselves caught up in a giant plot. Since the convenience of transportation in this region was virtually nonexistent, centralized power had not been established, so there was a grandiose plan to unify the region by establishing a standardized currency. The ones who had dreamed up such an outrageous thing were called the Debau Company.

  But it was the way of the world in that wherever there was a plan, there would always be someone trying to foil it, and the Debau Company very nearly had to give up and start over. The one who saved them from that fate was Lawrence, and the one who supported him, Holo. That was why it was possible to claim that had they not been there, the silver debau—currently the most reliable silver piece in the region, a coin engraved with a design of the sun—would not exist.

  But after starting their bathhouse in Nyohhira, the birth of their daughter Myuri, and the bustle of daily life, Lawrence had completely forgotten. A long time ago, he might have held his chest high in overflowing pride, but now he reacted with only a small smile and washed down the memory with some ale.

  “That was all the will of God. And only possible due to the ties we had with many people.”

  They did nothing more than play a small part. At that time, they were, at any rate, just a lonely wolf that had been left behind by the passage of time who forgot her way home and a simple traveling merchant.

  “And the silver debau is in circulation all thanks to the Debau Company’s fiscal management.”

  “Heh-heh. Those who act modestly are the most frightening. Though the Debau Company is rather frightening, too. They’re very strict in managing us.”

  There were endless kinds of currency in a merchant’s purse. Like a power struggle between two countries, the strong determined what coins people used the most. At the worst, the Debau Company controlled business in the northern region by putting the silver debau into circulation. In order to do that, they were thoroughly overseeing its circulation by maintaining its exchange rate and melting down other silver coins.

  “The Debau Company now is less like a company and more like a nation of merchants, and the markets are their territory. Silver is stronger than the sword. They treat their vaults as if they were armories.”

  The world of money and power was one filled with plots.

  Long ago, Lawrence thought he could disrupt such a world, but he looked back on his naiveté with a laugh.

  “I’m still proud to think that I was involved with such a powerful company as Debau as a humble peddler, even if it was just a little bit.”

  “What! Being where you need to be when you need to be is a merchant’s true skill. Ah no, you own a bathhouse now.”

  The president laughed and poured ale into Lawrence’s mug.

  “It seems where you needed to be was Nyohhira.”

  The president, who had a long relationship with the people of Nyohhira, knew what it meant for them to bring their coins and goods at this time of year.

  He cracked the smile of a genial old man and nodded over and over.

  “Though it’s all and well to settle into the place you belong.”

  As Lawrence recalled the breadth of business negotiations, the president broached the critical topic.

  “I’ve heard a rumor that there are several who wish to somehow jeopardize that place.”

  He had a serious expression on his face, but then smiled slightly. There was a bright light in his eyes, as though boasting that he would not retire for another fifty years.

  “We’ve also been talking about nothing but lately.”

  The president leaned back in his chair and sighed as he stroked his beard. In that moment of silence, the only sound was the crunch, crunch of Holo tearing into lamb meat, still on the bone.

  “Should we gain another hot spring village, at any rate, trade would grow exponentially, you know.”

  Lawrence might have been imagining the unpleasant expression on the other man’s face.

  It was the expression of a merchant who was honest in his profits and who single-mindedly moved forward.

  Lawrence felt nostalgic, as though he had met an old friend for the first time in a long time.

  “Wouldn’t that be like trying to thread two strings through the eye of one needle?”

  The association looked busy with its current state of affairs. The president nodded in agreement as he skewered some fried garlic with a knife.

  “Of course, I imagine this is not a pleasant situation for Nyohhira’s inhabitants.”

  He pried out a clove of garlic and extended one on his knife in offering, but Lawrence declined.

  Instead, Holo took it and ate it with the venison. Lawrence was a bit exasperated, since whenever he ate garlic, she would become angry with him for the smell.

  “Who are they? To dig the baths, you need a certain level of preparation. And beyond the mountains…I’ve heard it’s on the other mountain face, to the west of Nyohhira, but I think that far out, there are no smaller communities or anything of the sort.”

  “Yes, however, there is an old road that travels from Svernel in that direction.”

  The president sprinkled some salt onto the garlic cloves and simply threw them into his mouth. Though they were in such an exquisite association building, it was refreshing for Lawrence to see him act unaffected.

  “It’s been several decades now…Back when the Church and its teachings had not taken root at all in this area. At the time zealous monks came, and their blood boiled because they were all but surrounded by enemies. With frightening enthusiasm, they carved open a road and built a stone monastery deep in the mountains. This was back when the northlands and the southern Church were truly at war. But no one bothered them, as though they sensed a sort of courage from them. I think many people in this town, including myself, converted to follow Church ways out of acknowledgment for their passion.”

  There certainly were things like that. That was true conviction.

  “But before we knew it, the war, too, became a shell of what it used to be, and it became like an annual vacation, and the monks also grew old before going off somewhere. Well, this is a difficult land to live in without passion.”

  “So, the newcomers are at the ruins of the monastery?”

  “It would seem so. The road hasn’t been used in a long while, so it needs to be cleared again, but I don’t know if that will be easier than building a new one. Also, there’s word that the building still stands. What’s more, they have a special permission for that whole area.”

  Hearing those words, Lawrence gulped.

  “Don’t tell me they’re planning to colonize?”

  In order to prevent rising discontent of those unable to find work after a town or village grew too overpopulated, the nobility would occasionally migrate people to a distant territory. If these were colonists dispatched by noble decree, it would become quite troublesome.

  “No…It shouldn’t be someth
ing on such a large scale. According to rumor, there aren’t even ten people.”

  “Where are they from?”

  “I’ve heard they used to be meager mercenaries in the south. As you know, it is quite a remote area, so they likely got their permission through some sort of connection. And see, since the war ended, mercenaries have also lost their jobs, and their lords might have thought this better than letting mercenaries roam around their land without jobs…That was likely part of the plan. A vagrant lifestyle probably did not suit those soldiers either, so they will likely wash their hands of the ruffian life here.”

  “Which means…Supposing they cannot find any spring water, do they intend to live as pseudo hunters?”

  If that was the case, then he would be thankful. It was extremely difficult to find new springs, even in Nyohhira. All of the noteworthy places were used up, and it was thanks to Holo’s wolf powers that he was able to open a bathhouse at all.

  “We also thought so. But…”

  The president put down his knife and gulped down his mug of ale.

  “…They’ve got good heads on their shoulders.”

  Good heads.

  And the president even looked a bit bitter.

  “They’re preparing ahead.”

  “Ahead?”

  “Basically, they’re assuming that they will strike water and have already come to buy the supplies needed for a hot spring village. So they’ve already made inroads with the lumber trade, the butcher’s, the baker’s association, the ale brewer’s association, and the winery association.”

  Lawrence was at a loss for words, and the president’s expression grew grimmer and grimmer.

  “Every association will fight with us over seats in the city council. These newcomers seem to be aware, somehow, even of private affairs.”

  In exchange for handling materials, something was done under the table. Associations took bribes and bought places on the city council using that money. That was likely it.

  Putting guesses aside, Lawrence did not think their conversation was truly reaching that point yet.

  This meant that they were not up against southern ruffians who came simply because they had a rough idea. They would not come, risking everything on whether or not they would find spring water. They at least had enough sense to make sure they were properly laying down the necessary groundwork.

  “They haven’t come to us yet, so they probably don’t need help with currency.”

  Rather, it was the money changers that relied on the coins that the hot spring towns saved up.

  But as Lawrence groaned, the president slammed his thick arms, which could knock down a bull, onto the table and stood up.

  “This means that our interests and your…no, Nyohhira’s interests, are one and the same. If those with power in the council go against us, then we would lose face. At the same time, if we can stay above our competitors like we always have, we can continue to ensure the division of limited supplies will suit Nyohhira’s circumstances. I believe we should cooperate.”

  It had been a while since he had talked about exposed interests that coincided.

  Lawrence, aware of his own importance, slowly reached out to his ale and drank slowly. He kicked awake his sleeping mind and lit it ablaze, since the president should have been proposing that he wanted money in exchange for protecting their supplies.

  “Of course, it is as you say.”

  But if that were the case, then it would be more effective to go directly to the lumber and meat associations in order to compete with the newcomers. Or it was possible that the president was using the fact newcomers had appeared as part of a show by the president.

  At any rate, it was something that involved quite a bit of money.

  If Lawrence acted carelessly, it would affect his colleagues in Nyohhira for decades to come.

  “But I must discuss this with the other villagers.”

  “Hmm? I suppose you should, but Mr. Lawrence, I am asking you now.”

  It was difficult to tell if his reddened cheeks were from excitement or the alcohol.

  As Lawrence hesitated, the president suddenly looked as though he had realized something.

  “Mr. Lawrence, don’t tell me you…?”

  Lawrence panicked when he thought that perhaps the president had made a big misunderstanding. He likely thought that Nyohhira had already betrayed the money changers and run to the lumber and butcher associations.

  “No, this is the first I’ve heard of this. That’s all I ask you to believe.”

  “Oh, I see, well, I suppose so…I, too, would be flustered if I suddenly heard all of this at once, but we can’t lose to those guys.”

  It was a fight for standing in a crowded town. Especially since business was booming now, seats in the council were like thrones. Even so, it would be unbearable to be treated as pawns in a political arena.

  It was then Lawrence breathed deeply, bracing himself.

  “Or could it be that? Mr. Lawrence, have you taken a special oath of nonviolence?”

  The president had asked another question so suddenly, Lawrence felt if he took it too lightly, he would be instantly led around by the nose.

  But it was too crazy.

  “What? Non…violence?”

  The other man might have been asking Lawrence to get rid of eyesores. It was not as though there were no such incidents in the world of trade—though he knew this, he felt his back grow sweaty.

  Assassination.

  Until just a few years ago, this place had been influenced by a war that spanned several decades. Kill or be killed might have been considered normal.

  He gulped out of nervousness, and the president continued, staring at the table.

  “Faith is precious. I cannot deny that. But as long as we choose to live, we cannot escape every single loss of life. May I ask you to avert your gaze, just this once?”

  His gaze slowly made its way to Lawrence.

  “You seem to take good care of yourself, and it doesn’t seem that your gut would get in the way.”

  If a townsperson committed the deed, they would be exposed easily. But if it was someone from the mountains, the president likely thought that they could simply disappear into the mountains. And digging a bath was similar to mining, and mining obviously came with accidents. Just as Holo said jokingly, they could go to the place where the newcomers were digging and bury them in dirt. And the bathhouse coordinator in Nyohhira said the same—if it were back in the old days, they would be ready to cross the mountain with clubs in hand…

  Surrounded by the steam that smelled of sulfur, perhaps Lawrence could not clearly see outside the world.

  Indeed—the world was a place this cruel and heartless.

  He remembered that keeping a clean conscience was a tremendous luxury.

  “But I—”

  “I know, I know. It’s a bit different than the help every year that my association and the village of Nyohhira have agreed on.

  It is not just “a bit.”

  Lawrence wanted to yell that.

  “Our money changer association is, as I’m sure you know, filled with those who sit to work. Besides the money changers, the other members of this association are all craftsmen who do metalwork, carve pillars and walls. And they’re a bit too…old to run around chasing game.”

  Lawrence then recalled the president’s exclamation from earlier about how happy he was the village had sent someone young this time—only now it had taken on a new, dark meaning. His choice of saying “game” was like a reminder that it happened regularly.

  “But do not worry. We are used to these sorts of situations. Mr. Lawrence, I want you to catch our game and bring them back.”

  Catch, kill, scatter, and bury. The flow of things was already determined.

  The president gulped down his ale and spoke.

  “I realize that your job is the most difficult. But…to beat them, this is our only choice. And I’ve heard that you used to live on the road as
a merchant. I’m sure you’ve experienced this once or twice?”

  He had certainly heard of those kinds of tradesmen. For example, the kind that stuck close to wars and conflicts. They went around pillaging towns with soldiers and dealt with those who attempted to protect their assets by swallowing gold and jewels.

  He had seen and heard about them a few times when he was a traveling merchant. Stories about people who offered to travel together on dangerous roads when they were really the pawns of bandits.

  But Lawrence thought himself different. Even if he could not say with pride before God that he was a perfectly honest merchant, he never crossed any moral boundaries the patron saint of trade would refuse to forgive. And it went without saying that he was a father now. There was no way he would be able to hug his beloved daughter when she came home if his hands were covered in blood. He could not. He would not.

  Did the other bathhouse owners in Nyohhira know of this? Did they not know that the hands of the money changers, with whom they maintained such a long relationship, were covered in blood?

  But when he realized the alternative, a chill ran up his spine. Could this be why he was finally being regarded as a member of the village after ten-odd years? It was easy to keep dirty work a secret if they could not leave after being rooted there for such a long time.

  If that were the case, then he could imagine what would happen if he refused.

  Lawrence’s eyes darkened.

  Such things did happen.

  “Mr. Lawrence?”

  The association president called his name, and Lawrence snapped back to reality.

  But nevertheless, he could not find his words.

  Lawrence looked miserably at Holo, who sat beside him.

  “Well.”

  As he gazed at her, she spoke pitilessly.

  “Do you have a reason to reject?”

  His vision wavered. But when he thought of the village—right. When he thought of living in the village, that was right. That was the place they called their home, something they would not find again. When he weighed that on the scales, it was almost like putting the devil on the other side.