Spice & Wolf III

by Isuna Hasekura

  The other merchants at the table laughed, raising their cups as if to say, “We’ll keep on without you.”

  Lawrence gave a quick bow and then followed Batos, who was heading farther into the guild house.

  Standing in sharp contrast to the lively lobby, the halls of the guild house were like back alleys; the lamplight soon failed to reach them, and the clamor from those gathered faded like a fire burning on a river’s distant shore.

  Batos then stopped and turned. “So what is it you want to speak about?”

  There was no point in beating around the bush. Lawrence spoke simply and to the point. “I’m trying to lay in pyrite. I’m looking for someone with a stockpile, and I thought you might have some idea of where to start.”

  “Pyrite?”

  “Yes.”

  Batos’s eyes were a dark blue that bordered on black. They looked gray in the faint yellow light of the lamp.

  Those eyes looked evenly at Lawrence.

  “Have you any leads?” Lawrence asked again.

  Batos sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Mr. Lawrence, you—”

  “Yes?”

  “Do you remember what I said when I told you about what the young Amati was planning?”

  Lawrence nodded immediately. Of course, he remembered “Not only that, I remember that Miss Diana hates business discussions.”

  Batos took his hand from his eyes and then stopped, his gaze now for the first time what one would expect from a merchant.

  It was the look of a man whose life was devoted to the safe transport of goods through incredible hardship, unconcerned about how much profit would be made.

  Those eyes seemed somehow wolflike.

  “So you’re eyeing the alchemists’ stock, are you?”

  “That will make this conversation easy—yes. However, I've heard that without Miss Diana’s permission, no business can I" had. That is why I’ve come to you.”

  Lawrence suddenly remembered when he was just starting out as a merchant—with no connections, he would visit without notice and say whatever it took to increase his business.

  Batos’s eyes widened slightly in surprise before he forced them back to their usual expression. “Is pyrite so lucrative that knowing all this, you still wish to deal with them?”

  “No, that is not it.”

  “Then...you want to know your fortune or ward away illness as pyrite is rumored to do?” Batos smiled indulgently, as though he were playing with a grandchild. It was his way of pok­ing fun.

  Lawrence was neither angry nor impatient.

  If it was for his own gain, a merchant could stare at a swinging scale all night, if that’s what it took. “I am acting in my own inter­est. That I will not deny.”

  Batos stared wide-eyed, unmoving.

  If he was turned away here, his best chance of finding a stock­pile of pyrite would be gone.

  Lawrence did not have the luxury of allowing that to happen.

  “But I’m not after it because I’m trying to gain from the pyrite bubble. My aim is more...more basic.”

  Batos did not interrupt him, and Lawrence took this as his cue to continue.

  “Mr. Batos, you’re a traveling merchant, so surely you’ve had times when the goods you’re hauling fall into a crevasse.”

  Still silence.

  “When our wagon sinks in a mire, we weigh the difficulty of sav­ing it against abandoning it to the mud. The value of the goods, the gain, the amount of cash on hand, the cost of getting assistance—the danger of being attacked by brigands even—we weigh it all and decide to abandon the cargo or not to.”

  Batos spoke slowly. “And you’ve found yourself thus, have you?”

  “I have.”

  Batos’s keen eyes seemed as though they could see to the end of a dark road.

  He’d traveled the same road for a lifetime and came to Diana to hear tales of the roads he hadn’t taken.

  Those eyes would surely see through any lie.

  But Lawrence did not waver.

  For he was telling no lies.

  “I am determined not to abandon my load. So long as I can gel it back on my cart, I am willing to risk a bit of trouble.”

  Batos had to realize what the “cargo” was and why Lawrence was so desperate.

  But the old merchant just closed his eyes, saying nothing.

  Was there something more to say? Lawrence wondered. Should he push further?

  The laughter that echoed from the lobby sounded derisive and mocking.

  Precious time was slipping away.

  Lawrence readied himself to speak.

  And at the last possible moment, he stopped himself.

  He remembered his master telling him that waiting was the most powerful weapon when asking another’s favor.

  “That’s what I wanted to see,” said Batos at that moment with a little smile. “It’s a good merchant that can wait, even if time is short, when that’s the only option left to him.”

  Lawrence realized he had been tested; cold sweat ran down his back, making him shiver.

  “Of course, I was even pushier back in the old days.”

  Er...

  “Ah, yes. I’ve no supply of pyrite, sad to say. But surely the alchemists do.”

  “So, then—”

  Batos nodded slightly. “All you need say is ‘I’ve come to buy a box of white feathers’ That should get you in the door. The rest is up to you. You’ll have to be quite clever with dear Diana. I doubt anyone has gone to buy pyrite there yet.”

  “Thank you very much. By way of thanks—”

  “As long as you’ll tell me a good tale, I’ll call it even. What do you think? Do I sound as dignified as Diana?”

  Batos grinned childishly; Lawrence couldn’t help but laugh.

  Batos continued, “You never know when she’s sleeping, Diana, so you should be able to go over there right now. And if you’re going, you should go soon. Time is money and all.” He pointed to the back of the trade guild. “If you take the back way, you can leave without answering any questions.”

  Lawrence thanked Batos and headed down the hall. He looked back to see the old merchant still smiling.

  There with his back to the lamplight from the lobby, Batos looked a bit like his old master, Lawrence thought.

  Leaving the guild house and heading north, Lawrence soon ran right into the stone wall.

  He hadn’t been lucky enough to arrive at the entrance, so he ran along the wall for a while until he found it, levering the rickety door open and slipping inside.

  There were, of course, no lights, but as Lawrence ran, his eyes adjusted to the gloom, and as a traveling merchant who camped on the road quite a bit, he was used to a bit of darkness.

  However, the slivers of light that sliced out from between the cracks in the district’s wooden doors, the meowing of cats in the distance, and the sudden occasional beating of birds’ wings were all much more unsettling than they had been during the day.

  Without the keen sense of direction common among traveling merchants, Lawrence might have become lost and wound up sprinting away in fear.

  When he finally found Diana’s house, his relief was genuine.

  It was like he’d arrived at a friendly woodcutter’s cabin after a long walk through an ominous forest.

  But on the other side of the door, which Lawrence stood in front of, there was perhaps not a friend who’d welcome him with open arms.

  Even though he’d gotten the password from Batos, when Lawrence thought back on his exchange with Diana, he felt she truly did hate business.

  He wondered if he would really be able to buy any pyrite.

  The uncertainty grew in his chest, but he took a deep breath and pushed it back down.

  He had to obtain the mineral.

  “Excuse me, is anyone home?” Lawrence asked hesitantly, knocking lightly on the door.

  The silence of someone home but asleep is subtly different from the silence of no one being present.


  When it is the former, it was somehow hard to raise one's voice.

  There was no reaction from behind the door.

  A bit of light shone through the cracks, though, so even if Diana might have been asleep, she seemed to be there.

  The town leveled harsh punishments at those who left then lamps burning as they slept, but it was hard to imagine the eve ning patrols venturing into this district.

  Just as Lawrence was about to knock on the door again, he heard someone move behind it.

  “Who is it?” The voice sounded sleepy, weary.

  “I apologize for disturbing you at this late hour. I am Lawrence. I visited you yesterday with Mr. Batos.”

  A short pause followed, after which he heard the rustling of fabric. Next, the door slowly opened.

  Light poured out of the house, along with the air from within the room.

  Diana’s eyes were annoyed and sleepy.

  She wore the same style of robe she’d had on when he visited her before. Being a former nun, she probably wore that style year-round, morning and night, making it impossible for Lawrence to tell from her dress whether he’d woken her.

  In any case, it was extremely rude to visit a woman living alone in the middle of the night; Lawrence knew this but spoke without hesitation.

  “I know it’s very rude, but I had to come.” He continued, “I wish to buy a box of white feathers.”

  Diana’s eyes narrowed for a moment upon hearing the password that Batos had told Lawrence. She moved aside and wordlessly gestured for him to come inside.

  The inside of her house—which was free from the stench of sulfur—seemed to be even more cluttered than it had been the previous day.

  Even the room’s sole trace of organization—the bookshelves—were a mess, with most of the books now off the shelves, left open with their pages staring up at the ceiling.

  And there were even more white quill pens scattered about than before.

  “My goodness, so many guests all on the same day. The festival really does bring people out,” said Diana, mostly to herself. She sat—and as before, she did not offer Lawrence a chair.

  Lawrence was about to sit anyway in one of the chairs not piled high with things, but then he realized something.

  So many guests.

  So people had come before Lawrence.

  “I expect it was Mr. Batos that told you to ask for a box of white feathers?”

  Lawrence was still worried about who had come calling here, but he shook his head to clear it. “Ah, yes. I’m sorry to say I forced the issue and made him tell me how to meet with you..

  “Goodness, really? I have a hard time imagining anyone forcing Batos to do anything,” said Diana with an amused smile.

  Lawrence had nothing to say to that.

  Her personality was different, but something about Diana reminded Lawrence distinctly of Holo.

  “So what business is it that’s so pressing you managed to convince that stubborn old coot?”

  There were any number of people who would desire the skills and products alchemists possessed for a variety of reasons.

  Diana was a dam that held those desires in check.

  Lawrence did not know why, but Diana—sitting in her chair and looking evenly at him—seemed somehow like a great bird, guarding her eggs with iron wings.

  “I need to purchase pyrite,” said Lawrence, despite being half-overwhelmed by Diana’s mien.

  Diana put one white hand to her cheek. “I hear the price has gotten quite high.”

  “That’s not—”

  “Of course, dear Mr. Batos would never have helped you over something as simple as mere profit. So there must be some other reason, no?”

  He felt like Diana was always one step ahead of him. She was quicker than Lawrence and seemed fully willing to demonstrate that.

  Mustn’t get angry, Lawrence told himself. He was being tested.

  He nodded. “It’s not business. I need pyrite for a battle.”

  Diana’s eyes narrowed as she smiled. “A battle with whom?”

  “It’s...”

  He hesitated to mention Amati’s name. It wasn’t because he thought it would be inappropriate.

  It was because he wondered whether Amati was his true oppo­nent in this battle.

  He shook his head. “No, it’s—” Lawrence looked back to Diana. “It’s against my cargo.”

  Cargo?

  “A traveling merchant's enemy is always his cargo. Estimating its value, planning for its transport, deciding upon its destination. If he errs in even one of these, he will lose. At this very moment, I am trying to recover a piece that has fallen from my wagon. Having reevaluated the value, the transport, and the destination, I have realized that this is a piece of cargo I cannot afford to lose.”

  Diana’s bangs fluttered in what seemed like the breeze—but no, it was her own breath as she exhaled.

  She smiled softly and retrieved a quill pen that was at her feet.

  “ ‘Buying a box of white feathers’ is nothing more than a glorified password. All it means is that I don’t mind so long as I’m able to have a bit of fun. Does a bird not drop feathers when it beats its wings excitedly? Those people that I give my password to help me choose my visitors carefully, so all I need to do is glance at them to tell. I don’t mind a bit as far as pyrite goes. Buy it up as you please.”

  Lawrence jumped to his feet. “Thank—”

  “However,” said Diana, cutting him off. Lawrence suddenly had a very bad feeling.

  Several visitors in a single day. A chair with nothing piled on it.

  It can’t be—the black words floated up in Lawrence’s mind.

  Diana’s face was now apologetic. “Someone has already come to buy.”

  It was just as he’d feared.

  He immediately asked the questions any merchant would ask.

  “How much did they buy? What did it sell at?”

  “Do calm yourself. The customer in question bought on credit and did not leave with the pyrite. You could say they simply made an order. For my part, I wouldn’t mind letting you have the mate­rial instead. Let us try to negotiate with the first party, shall we? As for the amount, I seem to recall it being sixteen thousand irehd worth at current market value.”

  That was four hundred trenni. If he could acquire that much, it would be a giant boon to his plans. “I understand. Might you tell me who the buyer was...?”

  If Diana were to say it was Amati, Lawrence’s hopes would be obliterated.

  But she only shook her head slightly. “I will handle the negotiation. For safety’s sake, we do not allow others to know the identity of those who have dealt with us alchemists.”

  “B-but—”

  “You have an objection?” She smiled coldly.

  Lawrence was the one asking the favor; he could only remain silent.

  “You’ve said this is a battle, so I presume the circumstances are not ordinary. I will help all I can and let you know the results as soon as possible. Where will I be able to find you tomorrow?”

  “Ah, er...the marketplace in front of the stone seller’s booth .I'll be there the entire time the market is open. Otherwise, if you contact Mark the wheat seller, his stand is...”

  “I know the place. I’ll send a messenger as soon as I’m able."

  “Thank you.” Lawrence couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  Yet the fact was that depending on the results of Diana’s negotiation, it was still possible that he would be unable to buy any pyrite. The consequences would be near fatal.

  There was only so much he could say.

  “I won’t hesitate to pay a considerable sum. I can’t pay double

  market value or anything like that, but please inform them I will be quite generous.”

  Diana smiled and nodded, standing up from her chair.

  Lawrence realized it was time for him to take his leave. The fact that he hadn’t been turned away after showing up uninvited at this rid
iculous hour was enough of a miracle already.

  “I do apologize for calling so suddenly at this hour.”

  ‘‘Not at all. Night and day are meaningless to me.”

  Somehow he knew she wasn’t joking, and yet he laughed anyway.

  “And so long as you’ve brought interesting stories, you could stay all night and I wouldn’t mind a bit.”

  Her words could have been interpreted as seduction, but Law­rence knew she was just being sincere.

  Unfortunately, he’d already told her the one interesting story he knew.

  In its place, a question appeared unbidden in his mind.

  “Is something wrong?” asked Diana.

  Lawrence was stopped in his tracks by the thought that struck him.

  Flustered, he claimed it was nothing before heading for the door.

  The question was preposterous. He couldn’t possibly ask it.

  “Being so mysterious when you leave a woman’s home—honestly, you’ll be lucky if the gods don’t punish you,” said Diana girlishly Her playful smile made him think that she really would answer whatever question he cared to ask.

  And she was probably the only one who could.

  He turned to speak even as he reached for the door.

  “I...have a question.”

  “Ask whatever you like,” she said without hesitating.

  Lawrence cleared his throat. “Are there any stories of gods...and humans, that is...falling in love, becoming a pair?”

  He knew he wouldn’t be able to answer if Diana asked why he wanted to know this.

  Yet despite the risks, Lawrence had to ask.

  Holo had wept, saying if she had a child, she would no longer be alone.

  If this was at all possible, he wanted to tell her and perhaps give her some small hope.

  Diana was stunned for a moment by this question, but she soon regained her composure and answered in a slow and measured voice.

  “There are many.”

  “Really?” said Lawrence in spite of himself.

  “Yes, for example—ah, but I’m sorry. You were in a hurry”

  “Ah, er, yes. But perhaps later...if you wouldn’t mind, I would very much like to hear the details.”

  “Certainly.”

  Fortunately, she did not ask his reasons for wanting to know.