Spring Log

by Isuna Hasekura

  Before the astonished Holo could say anything in response, Lawrence reached out and placed his hand on her cheek, wiping the tears away with his thumb.

  “I know we promised that until the time comes, we would act like this relationship would last forever. But after we slept on the riverbank of time, a boat came. You wouldn’t lose anything if you caught hold for now to reach the other side in the far, far future.”

  Lawrence smiled bitterly, because as he gazed at Holo, she seemed to look at him as though she were watching him die now.

  He stooped before her, below her eye line.

  “You’re the wife of a merchant and you should act like one.”

  “…?”

  “It’s insurance. Before you go on an adventure where you might lose everything, you prepare for when you’ve lost everything. But if you truly did not want to lose anything, then not venturing out into danger would be the perfect insurance. Long ago, you wanted to choose the latter.”

  Saying goodbye before the parting became too painful.

  “But that way, you would miss out on the profits you might gain. Okay, let’s say you help Aram and the others, and their business is going well. Let’s say you could live rather peacefully with others who have the same long life span as you. Think about it. Because you all know about each other, if you wanted to keep Spice and Wolf, then you can ask for their help and keep it after my death. If you come and go between Nyohhira and Aram’s bathhouse every thirty years or so, then the people of Nyohhira would be none the wiser, and you could keep that up forever. Of course…as long as you aren’t wasteful and let it go bankrupt, that is.”

  He smiled mischievously, and Holo, looking down at him, was caught in a fit of laughter.

  “You fool…”

  “I don’t think it’s a bad idea. There’s no loss for anyone. Well, we do need to keep some secrets while we rival Aram’s bathhouse and the people of Nyohhira are racking their brains.”

  Lawrence took Holo’s hand and shook it a bit in encouragement.

  “For you, I think it’s okay to go against God’s teachings, just a little bit.”

  Holo’s smile looked pained because Lawrence was trying so hard to make a joke, so she forced herself to smile even more.

  But that was enough. Even if it was forced at first, soon they would get used to it and then finally accept it.

  If they decided to fight against the providence of the world, he had to give at least that much effort.

  “Okay?”

  Lawrence looked up at Holo, and she seemed like she would close her eyes, but she did not.

  “We’ll help Aram and Selim. You should be friendlier toward them.”

  And after this entire conversation, Holo finally made a displeased expression, and Lawrence could not help but laugh.

  “You’re rather shy around strangers.”

  “Wha—?” Holo gulped, and with a sudden fierce look in her eyes, she glared at Lawrence. “I am only prideful!”

  She unfurled her fist and with a smack, she hit Lawrence’s cheek.

  He reached out for her hand that had struck him.

  Holo was indeed glaring down at him in anger, but her tail was making a slight thumping sound as it wagged.

  “That’s true, too.”

  He took the cup she was holding and set it at his feet.

  He rose up to Holo’s eye level and wrapped his arms around her.

  “Because you’re a princess.”

  “…A wisewolf, you fool.”

  Holo would always be Holo. When he let his guard down, she would knock him down instead. It was then that Lawrence realized he had forgotten to close the wooden window, but today was the festival. It was not too much of a problem.

  He could see the clear sky through the open window.

  The moon peeked on them many times, but luckily, the sun should have not seen them.

  From an observer’s point of view, the other party was aligned against the money changers’ association and Nyohhira. If Lawrence and Holo went to see them in the open, it would get complicated if someone saw.

  So, Lawrence used a convenient intermediary.

  “When you two appear, I get nervous that some sort of commotion will happen again.”

  When they entered the waiting room meant for guests of nobility, the master of the town, Jean Millike, spoke with a grimace.

  “Sorry for intruding at such a busy time.”

  “It truly is busy, but if the hidden leading figure of this town came with a wolf and told me to throw open the gates, I would have no choice.”

  Millike sat on a red-cushioned chair and gave a big sigh. He was not so much displeased as he was fatigued. In the commotion of the festival, it was so hectic as to be incredibly taxing, like trying to stir a giant pot of stew with many ingredients in it.

  “But I did not expect to see you participate in the Festival of the Dead. I had not realized.”

  The crowd was huge, and it seemed they had masked their wolf scent with sulfur.

  “The money changers did get the most meat in the end.”

  They had lived up to the reputation. Lawrence, wanting to share his happiness with Holo, looked beside him, but she was indifferent. Since she had helped, that result was to be expected, seemed to be Holo’s thoughts on the matter, and she merely munched on the sugared flowers that Millike offered them. She had just been crying, so her mouth likely felt salty.

  “And your request—it was to summon the ones who have the special permit to settle the old monastery ruins, right?” Millike asked, and as Lawrence was about to nod, he leaned forward, as though trying to rein in his guest.

  “Are you sure this won’t cause trouble?”

  Millike had been worried about this since they came.

  Ten-some years ago, Lawrence and his companions were involved in a huge commotion and came to this town on a sliver of hope. There was no mistaking that to Millike, who was dragged into it, it felt like the whole disaster had been pushed onto him.

  Though it had somehow turned out all right, the grudge he still held against them was eight-parts-out-of-ten justified.

  “It’s to make sure there won’t be any trouble, actually.”

  “Hmm?”

  Millike seemed doubtful, but Holo, happily eating a purple flower covered in sugar, butted in as she licked her fingers. “Why did you hide them from us? Or why did you hide us from them? Such honest people must have come to greet you, the master of this town, first. You should have known.”

  They were not pressuring words, and Millike only slightly raised an eyebrow.

  “Right. They were worried if their moldy permit was still valid. They came to confirm that as well.”

  “So you did not tell them, then, that there is a wolf in Nyohhira, though they say they wish to make bathhouses.”

  Millike stared at Holo, as though trying to feel out her true intentions. Holo, instead, did not seem to mind and happily returned enthusiastically to eating the fancy candied, sugar-coated flowers.

  In the end, Millike sighed and leaned back in his chair.

  “There are two reasons.”

  Then, he sat up and took a piece of candy from the ever-decreasing pile.

  “First, my wish is to maintain the development of this town. If it works for the town, then it works for me.”

  The money changers’ association president had explained that they would gain more profits if there were two hot spring villages.

  “Second, they reminded me of you two from those ten-odd years ago.”

  “In that terrible a state?” Lawrence asked, and Millike shrugged his shoulders slightly.

  “At first glance, they’re clinging to outrageous dreams, and they haven’t done enough prior preparations, if you know what I mean.”

  Jean Millike had always been harsh.

  “They came here, grasping at vague information and said they wanted to open a bathhouse as soon as they can get hot water from the mountain. They said that eventuall
y they want to grow it into a village. What do you think would happen if I told them that there is a wolf in Nyohhira, and she’s already running a bathhouse? They would have gone straight to you. But if that happened, I don’t think they would have been a real nuisance to you.”

  “We met them just now, and they were a real nuisance.”

  As though satisfied with the sugared candy for now, Holo sipped the hot tea boiled from the flowers’ leaves. She had sworn at Lawrence once, asking him if there was any point to a drink such as tea if she could not get drunk from it, but she seemed to like its fragrance.

  Svernel was much richer than he thought. All the things they had been given out of hospitality were imports from the south—things one would expect to see in the mansions of aristocrats.

  “It was too much of a pain if it made you think I sent that nuisance in your direction. And I thought it would be wiser for you to eventually meet naturally at some point.”

  There was a wariness in his eyes that suited him. Impressed, Lawrence nodded.

  “But if you chanced upon each other, then that surely wasn’t it. Why must I call on them for you? Are you sure this won’t become a problem?”

  Millike frowned and Lawrence looked at him, about to explain the situation. Though he remembered that Holo began to cry then and how little time had passed since they talked after returning to the room, he was troubled as to how to explain it well.

  “Well, that’s, actually…”

  When he stumbled over his words, Holo spoke.

  “The moment we met them, all they did was ask for help. We could not answer at the time, so we returned to our inn and discussed it for a while. By then, the opportunity had passed.”

  She was not lying, but it was incredibly far from the truth.

  As Holo coolly sipped her tea, Lawrence remained impressed.

  “And the result?”

  Millike implied that he wanted to be informed ahead of time if they wanted to go through him. Lawrence signaled Holo with his eyes, and she snorted, uninterested.

  “We shall help them. There are times I wish to spend some time away from this one.”

  If Lawrence said, That’s my line! then she would likely not talk to him for three days and three nights.

  “If that’s the case, then all right.”

  Millike breathed a sigh of relief and directed his gaze toward the open wood window.

  “I am of the same opinion.”

  “Huh?”

  Lawrence was surprised, and Millike narrowed his eyes as though he was looking at a dunce.

  “I’ve been here for a long time. It’s about time I open this town again.”

  Jean Millike was a name passed down to him by the previous leader of the town. He was also a lord that had another name of Havlish. What he might do was feign illness and withdraw to his territory, then publicly die from illness, then return as some relative who inherited all his domain and power. There were times among the noble class where they would place siblings and close relatives far away to protect their bloodline. Since it was quite a common practice, no one would question it.

  And there was even a place nearby for him to hide, so it was no problem.

  “’Tis fine since you have your beard. I could never hide my beautiful face. ’Tis actually quite troublesome.”

  “…”

  When helping with Aram’s bathhouse, someone who was not human would understand in an instant how it would be used. But it was unfortunate that Lawrence, a human, could not fit in that circle.

  Even so, Lawrence thought, it seemed Holo and Millike got along surprisingly well. Even after he died, or even if Myuri decided to settle down somewhere on her journey, perhaps Holo would not have to end up tending to her tail all alone.

  “Anyway, I’ll go ahead and call them in, all right?”

  “Yes, please. If the townspeople found out we were communicating with them, it might cause some problems down the road.”

  “How very merchant-like of you.”

  Millike sighed and rang a small bell on the table. There immediately was a knock at the door, and in came a boy wearing well-starched clothes. Millike told him to fetch Aram, and the boy bowed respectfully before leaving the room.

  “What’s wrong?” Millike asked him with a questioning glance, as Lawrence watched the scene carefully.

  “Oh no…I was just thinking, what a good boy he is.”

  “We have a severe lack of people now in town. All the boys that can work are being taken in by the companies.”

  “Indeed.”

  Lawrence spoke as though he was giving up, and Millike raised an eyebrow slightly.

  “What, are you opening a branch for your bathhouse? You have that young one, Col, and your daughter, too.”

  Millike had mentioned it, so Lawrence briefly described what happened with Col and Myuri.

  “I see. You can’t fight blood.”

  “Yes. So this time, we thought it might be good to hire someone new in town.”

  “Hmm. Then you may as well hire some of these mercenaries, yeah?”

  “I almost want to take that possibility into consideration.”

  As Lawrence spoke, he looked at Holo beside him, and she made a frown.

  “I’ve heard they’re kin of wolves. Isn’t that perfect?”

  “That’s true. What’s the matter?”

  Catching Lawrence and Millike’s attention, Holo made a face as though there were pebbles in the sugar. But she must have thought it would be silly to try to fool them, so she looked the other way and sighed before reluctantly speaking.

  “I am Holo the Wisewolf. I have dignity that I must preserve.”

  Dignity? Lawrence looked at Millike with that question in mind, and the head of Svernel shrugged his shoulders. He was rather strict with her.

  “She means that in front of her kin, she can’t carelessly drink during the day or take naps.” He could almost hear Holo glaring at Millike, but of course, he was not fazed. “Is that wrong?”

  Instead it was the final blow, and she groaned, frustrated.

  “But I think she’s a hard worker. She always proves herself every day through the work I have for her. She’s more of a loyal hound than a wolf.”

  “Definitely, she had a trustworthiness and energy that felt more like a hound.”

  “But on the other hand, she’s shortsighted. She believes that the right thing will always and forever be the right thing. The reason they barely scraped by as mercenaries though they were not human wasn’t due to their lack of abilities, but a problem with their nature.”

  Everyone in this world had their strengths and weaknesses.

  And saying that it was right to do the right thing had made Holo angry.

  “A new hot spring village, hmm. It might be a good thing to get on board with them for now, but…”

  “Is there a problem?”

  Millike gave a tired sigh.

  “It’s the permit they had. It’s probably the real thing, but I just can’t shake this bad feeling. Then you two came and told me to call them, so I looked up to the heavens.”

  It seemed there was a basis for his doubts.

  “That is, there must be something supporting it…For example, the shadow of someone with authority who is trying to fulfill his territorial ambitions or something.”

  Millike was able to judge that the permit was real because those were things the people in power surrounding him manufactured, and he handled them on a regular basis.

  But if that were the case, then there was something odd about it. Aram and the others were mercenaries from far south, and they did not just happen upon a moldy permit. It was not unusual that a permit could pass through various hands and end up far away, but typically when it traveled from lord to lord, the name on it would change.

  As though Millike remembered something important, he pinched his brow.

  “The one that printed that permit was the pope.”

  “The pope? That’s a permit p
rinted by the lead temple?”

  If that was true, then it would not have been completely impossible for Aram and his companions, who worked in the south, to have gotten their hands on it, nor was it odd that Millike could determine its authenticity. The Church’s network was scattered all over the world.

  “But I’ve heard that there’s an old monastery up in that area. So it must be the one that was printed for that.”

  “Normally, yes.”

  What else was there besides normally? That question must have made itself known on his face. Millike groaned for a bit and spoke, irritated.

  “The permit guaranteed in the pope’s name exclusive rights to whatever was dug up in that entire area.”

  “That…must be necessary to dig up water. But that’s…”

  Lawrence suddenly cut himself off.

  They built the monastery there at a time when the war with the pagans was still raging. Zealous monks risked their lives to come here and with unbelievable passion cut open the forest and made a stone monastery deep in the mountains. Afterward, as the war became a shadow of itself, their passion must have waned as they eventually disappeared. That was the story they heard from the money changers. The region was a place much too difficult to live in, so they left.

  But monks were a group of people who choose to live in adversity to cultivate their faith. Following that reasoning, there was something strange about this scenario.

  Lawrence tilted his head in thought, and beside him, Holo burped.

  “The monks I know do not dig holes.”

  “Huh?”

  He looked at Holo and their eyes met. Her reddish, amber eyes were staring straight at him.

  “Right. Nyohhira was quite well known even then, so they might have tried to follow that example. But even that is strange.”

  “Yes, I see. But even though they held out in a dangerous land for many years, why did they withdraw from the region after it had finally become safe?”

  He murmured, and something clicked in his head.

  “It was not their passion…that they ran out of.”

  It was not.

  They had been saying that Aram and the others got their hands on a moldy permit, but it was possible to interpret it another way.