If he had asked any of the townspeople who the strangers helping the money changers were, he would have found out immediately. Any person working in trade in Svernel, from craftsmen to merchants, knew that bathhouse masters from Nyohhira came to help around this time every year.
But Aram was probably surprised. There was a nonhuman among the villagers of Nyohhira. And her companion was a human male.
“And?” Holo asked innocently.
Aram and Selim were clearly the ones trying to start a new hot spring village. And now they were on their knees before Holo, offering the greatest form of respect. It was impossible that this was just a courtesy call.
Aram spoke.
“This must be fate. We could not contain ourselves—we have come to ask for your assistance in creating our new home.”
Lawrence thought he saw Holo’s tail puff up under her overcoat.
“We wish to create a place that we can come home to with our companions for hundreds of years to come.”
The era of forests and spirits was gone, and nonhumans now felt small and inferior. On their journey some ten-odd years ago, to save their companions who were forced into nomadic wandering, they met a golden sheep that created a peaceful place for them to reside on the prairie. If they hid in the woods, there were roads. In the mountains, people built mines and cut them open to find coal. With no other choice, they may have decided to try to live in the human world, but a nonhuman would always be nonhuman.
So everyone had the thought of living in a remote place far removed from human civilization, doing modest work. For example, a merchant and the embodiment of a wolf running a bathhouse in Nyohhira.
“We’ve heard that the one next to you is the merchant that saved this town, who is now the master of the bathhouse Spice and Wolf. And it seems you have a deep relationship. If the God that humans worship does indeed exist, then this must be his will.”
Lawrence listened to Aram speak and finally understood Holo’s stiff expression.
He turned to him and spoke.
“To teach you how to manage your bathhouse?”
“Or…” Aram was not in the least bit daunted. “…To come live in our village.”
He called it a village.
According to the money changers, there were no more than ten of them, and they wanted to construct a bathhouse out of the ruined monastery. Lawrence thought at first that they would live as hunters if they could not find any water, but they had meticulously laid the groundwork with the town’s associations.
After doing all that and calling it a village, then that meant Aram’s dream was much bigger than that.
“Your power and knowledge would be the strength of a hundred, no, a thousand people.”
“We lived poorly as mercenaries in the southlands…To be more precise, we made our living by protecting small villages from outlaws who caused havoc during wartime.”
Standing next to Aram, Selim spoke falteringly. She seemed more serious than Aram. Lawrence could sense her nunlike essence, the impression that she could work for two or three days straight without sleeping or saying a word. She appeared to be a bit older than Holo, but from all the trials she must have gone through, her weary expression made her look even more like an adult. Moreover, he was taken aback by her hands. They were indescribably rough, and not just because she had performed the butchering at the Festival of the Dead.
They were completely different from Holo’s hands.
“It was a life that we, as your kindred, must be ashamed of.”
This meant that Aram and Selim’s companions, too, were wolves.
Holo must have known this already. Her expression did not change as she continued to stare at them.
“We do not know much about the human world. We have only somehow helped the companies in this town for now. My brother and I are the only ones who can speak the language of this region.”
“You may find this foolish or even laugh at us.”
Aram dropped his eyes to the sword and sheath crossed on the ground, then courageously raised his head.
“The world continues to change, and even our small reason to live crumbled before us. In the end, we barely managed to subsist on the embers of war. Then we were blessed with the chance to receive a special permit for this land, so we decided we had no choice but to place our hopes here, and so we came.”
And it also seemed that they could obtain water from the ground, and there was even a monastery still standing.
So that was it.
Everyone in this world had their own circumstances.
“Are you…?” There, Holo butted in. “…Asking us to throw away the village we have made our home in?”
“We would ask nothing more should you come to move with us. But of course, we would also appreciate it if you simply helped us—”
“Then, in any case, you ask us to betray our neighbors. You are our competitors.”
“Holo.”
The one who called her name was Lawrence.
Aram and Selim were certainly their competitors, but it was easy to see that they had their own circumstances. And like Holo, they were not human. More importantly—they were wolves. There was no mistaking that they were more similar to Holo than the people of Nyohhira.
Though at the same time, it was likely for that very reason she treated them so coldly.
If she sympathized with them just a little bit, if she opened her heart to them, then she would have no choice but to help them. And that would be treason against Nyohhira.
Holo was an alien existence, whose true identity had to be hidden from the villagers of Nyohhira. She was indebted to Lawrence more than he knew.
But Lawrence spoke to her.
“We can’t just decide on an answer to their proposal like that.”
He was talking about how this would affect her far into the future, something that coincided with their fundamental problem.
That reason was…
“Lady Holo.”
Aram, still on his knees, drew closer.
“Please, think about it. What you have now will not last forever.”
They were mercenaries who came from the south and had barely scraped by.
As it stood, Aram’s dauntless expression was much too direct.
In the world, there were things that, however right, should not be said.
Lawrence realized his mistake in not conveying those words.
“…So what if it’s true?” Holo’s voice was cold to its core. “What does that have to do with you?”
“Holo…”
“Answer me!”
A wise man once said that no happy story lasted forever. One day, Lawrence would die, and only Holo would live on. In response to that, Lawrence found the answer together with Holo. They both decided to put on a brave show, saying, So what?
Holo grasped Lawrence’s arms. She gripped so hard that it hurt.
“I was once called the wisewolf, but that is the past. I suggest you try someone else.”
He could hear her heart slam shut.
Holo began to walk off, and she forcefully pulled on his arm. Her threatening attitude was almost as though she had kicked away the sword and sheath Aram had laid out in respect.
When they passed Aram, his expression was one of shock. He most likely had not thought Holo would grow angry at hearing his reasoning. Lawrence thought that he had such a straightforward nature that one did not often see in the human world.
But one could not live in this world with a purely straightforward manner. There were few, rare places that had straight roads—only found in towns protected by high walls.
“Holo.”
When they could not see Aram or Selim anymore, Lawrence called her name, but she did not stop walking.
“Holo— Hey, Holo!”
His back and legs still hurt, and he instead pulled on her arm. Her power was only that of a girl when she held this form.
And her slim body could not protect her soft he
art.
Holo turned to face him, and she was crying. How she had so forcefully pulled him away was only a show.
“I—I…You…”
“I know. You don’t have to say any more.”
Lawrence hesitated for a moment, since his clothes were muddy, but he ended up pulling the sobbing Holo into his arms. She clung to him, not caring that her face would be covered in mud. He rubbed her back—comforting her small, helpless form.
Embracing her as she cried, he rested his back against the wall and looked up.
Wedged among the tall buildings, the sky above him looked small and distant from the narrow path.
He knew that they were the foolish ones.
He suddenly noticed someone enter his field of vision and looked in that direction. There was Selim, so bewildered that she seemed to be suffering. She did not try to come too close and looked at Lawrence. He shook his head slightly.
She looked distressed but gave a small nod, then retreated with a deep bow. Since they did not seem to have any malice or ulterior motives, it was heartbreaking instead of threatening. If they had approached them maliciously, Lawrence and Holo would have doubtlessly protected their happy lives. But the thing they feared and would eventually have to confront had taken form and appeared before them.
Lawrence rubbed Holo’s back once more before patting it lightly.
“Holo, nothing will get done like this.”
His words were convincing, since he was once a merchant who could not make money if he was unable to walk forward.
“Let’s go back to the room for now. Then…”
Then?
He was afraid to continue his sentence, but he could count on Holo, and she was relying on him.
Unflinching, he spoke.
“Then, let’s think properly, without looking away.”
Holo did not say anything.
But when Lawrence slowly opened his arms, Holo backed away herself.
Unwittingly he smiled, as her face was completely covered in mud.
“If anyone saw you now, I don’t think they’d imagine you were once called the wisewolf.”
Holo hiccupped and furiously wiped her face on her sleeve, then balled her hand into a fist and punched him once in the stomach.
Then with the same hand, she grasped Lawrence’s. She was much more girl-like than the tomboyish Myuri.
“Cheer up. They said we could take any food or drink we wanted back at the association.”
Holo sniffled and head-butted his shoulder.
“Fool.”
She still sounded like she was crying, but she was all right for now if she was insulting him.
There was a strong bond between himself and Holo.
It would turn out all right, and they would see to it that it did.
When they entered the main street from the back road, like a suggestion of something, the warmth of the sun greeted them.
The money changers’ association building was silent.
During the festivals, there were no large transactions between companies, but travelers and craftsmen who were taking off work came and went to and from town with change. The money changers, who were closing big deals and exchanges in the big hall all up until yesterday put their scales together and headed out into town.
And since the square was open after the Festival of the Dead and all the people suddenly gathered there, the district itself was quiet. It felt as though the sun had come out during the nighttime.
“Phew, I’m alive again. It really is a Festival of the Dead.”
He was covered in mud from the top of his head to underneath his fingernails, and standing naked, he could see that there were big bruises all over his body.
He had the appearance of the dead during the festival, but there was no mistaking that the one who had come up with the name of the festival named it for this exact phrase Lawrence uttered after bathing.
“Have you calmed down, too?”
Holo’s face was streaked with mud and tears. And since she had hugged him, her clothes had gotten dirty, too. She looked just like a girl who had fallen face-first into a muddy road and cried all the way home. The boys who stayed behind seemed more concerned for Holo than Lawrence, who had participated in the festival.
“…”
With hot water, she washed her face, her hands, then changed her clothes, and sat silently in the corner of the bed.
She had not even touched the alcohol and the snacks that the boys prepared for them.
“Well…It was sudden. And he was as straightforward as a knight on horseback.”
With such excellent swordsmanship, Aram had made a living guarding a village.
Surely, he would hesitate to use his power against others. Lawrence had a feeling that what he was protecting was also a poor village that no one would bother to help. If that was the case, then Lawrence also felt that the ones left behind working on the monastery ruins were much the same—honest folk who would have trouble living in today’s world.
“Everyone knows what’s right. Drink alcohol in moderation, use discretion when you talk, work hard, be gentle to the weak. And occasionally, pray to God.”
As Lawrence talked, he walked over to the desk and picked up the leather mug. It was a proud, stiff leather that was to be expected from a town that flourished as a distribution channel of furs and amber for a long time, and it could even be used for weapons. There was wine inside. He poured some into an even smaller tin cup and held it out to Holo.
“By that logic, you know what you’re supposed to do, right?”
Holo did not look at him, but she took the cup as though accepting his words.
“Aram and his companions will start business at their bathhouses with all who are not human. And their neighbors will grow, and before long, they will show off their village…Just thinking about it makes it sound like a fairy tale.”
Nyohhira, too, was often called uncharted territory, the boundary line between this world and heaven, but this was different. If a guest woke up in the middle of the night, they would surely find wolves and sheep, rabbits and foxes in the village square instead, drinking the night away.
There was likely a very good reason that those sorts of fairy tales still existed here and there today.
“Hey, Holo.”
He called out to her, and she looked up, startled. They were about to peel back the bandages that covered the wounds they pretended not to see. As she tried to stand up, forgetting she was holding her drink, Lawrence held her back with his hand.
“First, let’s say that helping Aram would mean betraying Nyohhira.”
Holo knew well that Lawrence was trying his hardest to fit in with the village. She also knew that it was incredibly difficult, since even though the people of Nyohhira had no malicious intent, they still always treated him like an outsider, like a newcomer. And she knew that even still, Lawrence purely and simply loved their home and offered his expertise at every opportunity so that the entire village would prosper.
And within it, only Holo would be giving up their knowledge to the enemies of Nyohhira.
All the while living comfortably in Nyohhira.
“I think that’s fine.”
“…But…”
“I’m a merchant.”
Lawrence smiled wryly, and it caught her off guard.
“I’m used to dealing with all kinds of people. Subtle communication is my specialty.”
If he could not do two completely different things at the same time, as if there were two of him, he could not be a businessperson.
Take for example, a transaction. While he must be cautious that the other would not outsmart him, or set him up in a trap, or commit fraud, he had to place his trust in the other party somehow and shake on it or the deal would not go through.
What’s more, while still doubting the other, he would even sometimes truly enjoy drinking with them after the deal was finished. And finally, the following day, he would continue doing business
, still suspicious.
That was that. This was this.
“Even if you worked with Aram and the others, I would not interpret that as you trying to inflict losses on Nyohhira directly. That’s more than enough for an excuse. And I don’t think it’s bad if good competition shows up. Working at the bathhouse there I always think—it’s been too peaceful for hundreds of years. Our neighbors lack a sense of danger.”
Though he had suggested several things to bring customers in the spring and fall when all the guests leave, his seniors had shown that they at least wanted to rest during that season.
As Lawrence spent most his time in the village, the laid-back atmosphere was beginning to infect him.
But if there was outside competition, they might wake from their slumber.
“Because of that, if you were to help Aram, then of course I would help you, but that would be unforgivable to the other bathhouse owners…Well, at least a bit. I’ll just shrug my shoulders, since there’s nothing that can be done.”
He knew it was being unfaithful. But if they had bigger plans than this, then he was prepared to gracefully accept the sins as an apostate.
“And that’s not what you’re most worried about, is it?”
Holo pursed her lips, as though reopening an old wound.
“I should have said it before Aram did.”
What she had now would not last forever.
They both knew and decided to go through it as though they did not notice.
“You can’t stay in Nyohhira forever. You can only fool them for so long about why you don’t age. After everyone has died out, could you continue to live as a thankless guardian spirit like you once did in the wheat fields of Pasloe?”
Holo seemed to shiver slightly, and tears fell into the tin cup she gripped so forcefully. Lawrence could not look away from those tears.
“You are my most beloved. But…”
No matter what, he hesitated to say it. But keeping quiet here would indeed be a betrayal to his love.
“…You’re not human. With the long time you have left, you should live with Aram and the others.”
Holo looked up.
As she opened her lips, they trembled.
“But ’tis…’Tis as though I am preparing for your death…”
“That’s right. That’s what it is. I’ve already mostly practiced for your funeral. And now it’s your turn.”
Spring Log Page 15