“Well, it’s not like we can drink before a fight. I need to know something heroic to inspire my men. That’s all I can do if I can’t get ’em drunk.”
It clearly was the leader of the band sitting in front of them.
“Alright, let’s get this over with.”
A good leader needs to trust his subordinates. Myuri slowly rose back to his feet and looked out the partially-opened window. He seemed nervous.. was he worried his men were listening? It was cold, but he couldn’t just close the shutters. It was so tense in the room that it felt like they’d all pass out before even getting to the truth. Lawrence gripped Holo’s hand tightly, but he was actually doing it less to encourage Holo and more to help himself relax.
“How do you know this is a claw?”
He held the object on his chest and asked Holo directly. Given its size and shape, it was obviously cut from something larger. It made for a clumsy decoration, being almost as long as Lawrence’s open hand. No one with a high rank would want to wear something so old-fashioned these days; everyone wanted something smaller and more expensive-looking.
“From the smell.”
She replied just as directly. Myuri stared at her and nodded.
“And you don’t seem to be a wealthy merchant. Forgive me, but it’s strange that you have connections with Delink, not to mention that famous grocer even wrote this letter for you. Who are you?”
Lawrence had expected that question, of course, so his expression didn’t change. But he didn’t get the chance to answer.
“Where did you get that?”
He dropped her hand unconsciously, and it took a moment for it to register that he’d even let her go. Holo spoke calmly, and with an icy tone. She was staring at the ground like some pathetic little girl acting tough after being sold into slavery. But it was obvious just how angry she was. If she didn’t hear the right answer, she would never forgive him. But Myuri showed no fear.
“You mean this claw?”
Sometimes, mercenaries were led by a true noble, who had the money and clout to form a band. But they could also just be simple thieves who had been hired and worked their way up the ranks. Myuri could be either of these. Perhaps he’d succeeded someone, or perhaps he became the natural leader of a band of bandits.
Holo was just a girl, after all, and it was clear that he wasn’t going to let himself be swayed by her obvious anger. Lawrence wondered if he ought to jump in, since Holo sometimes struggled with human communication. She might know better, but if her anger got the best of her, she might end up regretting it later.
“Why do you ask?”
Myuri didn’t lose his temper. He just glared at her sharply. He ignored Lawrence entirely, and just stared this little nun-like girl with a pretty face down with stony eyes.
“Answer me.”
Lawrence wasn’t even sure who had spoken at first, but it was Holo. Myuri drew his sword like a flash of lightning.
“This is how I answer questions.”
Before anyone could have reacted, his sword was pointed at her. But her throat wasn’t slit. Was he just being patient? Lawrence couldn’t tell at first, but it turned out to not be the case.
“Answer me.”
Holo simply repeated herself. The sword quivered for a moment, and Myuri realized his ploy wouldn’t work. The girl who had sobbed downstairs was entirely unafraid of his sword. It was a surreal scene, with Myuri’s obviously real sword pointing at her neck as he held the claw in his other hand and stared at her. His eyes then fell to the ground in defeat.
“Don’t mistake me for some thug who took it by force.”
He lowered his sword as if surrendering, but held the claw up with his other hand. He wasn’t treating Holo like a girl at all. It seemed this mercenary captain knew who she really was under that cloak of hers.
“It was bequeathed to me by my father.”
He continued, taking his time as though giving her a chance to reply.
“And bequeathed to my father by his father before him.”
Holo stared up at him.
“Along with the Myuri name?”
He seemed taken aback, with a mix of rage and surprise in his eyes. Lawrence reflexively intervened, hoping to smooth things over, knowing he was just a third party in this battle.
“Forget about it, I’m not really angry.”
He waved Lawrence’s hand aside, realizing his intent. But his eyes were still glued on Holo, like he was carefully searching his memories. Finally, as though hoping to calm an angry beast, he carefully and respectfully spoke.
“And what’s your name?”
He answered her question with a question of his own. Normally, she would fly into a rage, but not this time. He might not have answered her question, but he was being respectful and not impetuous.
“Holo.”
A frown unconsciously appeared on his face when he heard her curt reply. But what really surprised Lawrence was when his jaw dropped and he knocked his forehead.
“I see!”
He reacted so loudly that the books in the room all trembled. It befit a commander who ordered his men on the battlefield, but Lawrence wasn’t used to such a shout. Holo’s sensitive ears probably felt even worse, but she didn’t even flinch. She was like a rock. It finally sank in that Myuri Ruward was his real name, a name passed down to him by legacy.
“Paro, Kiritz, Yue, Inti, Sharmin.”
Myuri recited several names, all familiar to Holo. Her face distorted and her lips began trembling. Incredibly, Myuri seemed to be holding back tears as well. He spoke as if he’d lost his voice.
“..My father told me those names so many times..”
He finally managed to regain the voice of a leader.
“..And my grandfather even more so.”
He approached Holo and took her small hand in his. She looked up at him and removed her hood. Lawrence was reminded of how jealous he was when he first heard in Lenos that Myuri might still be alive. He was as old as Holo, after all, and had lived with her and been the object of her tears, so Lawrence didn’t like him.
But jealousy wasn’t going to help anything, and it usually only gave birth to regrets. Like right now. Myuri was stunned for a moment when he saw her ears, but he managed to keep his poise as a mercenary captain. With his other hand, he removed the claw from his neck and placed it tightly in her hand.
“Our founding leader had this.”
It was a legacy of tens of generations, of hundreds of years. The legend behind it might have become thin as threads over time, until it finally became little more than a myth, but it was actually the genuine article. Holo cupped it in both hands and stared at it. Myuri turned it in those hands, revealing the words carved into it. Lawrence was unfamiliar with the ancient runes, but Holo knew them. The moment she saw them, tears began streaming down her face.
“Long time, no see..”
She spoke through her tears and laughed as her shoulders trembled. She laughed, choked, dried her tears, and then cried again. Myuri held her shoulder, and finally looked back at Lawrence for the first time since they began talking. It seemed that even though he was the leader of a band of mercenaries, he was still willing to be a gentleman. It was obvious whose arms she should be crying in right now. Lawrence held her tightly as she wailed.
“To the wolf protecting us: we can finally carry out our promise to you.”
Myuri spoke those words softly. Every story in the world was bound by threads of fate, and now the Myuri mercenary band had come face to face with that fate. Now, they could welcome the end of that story.
Chapter 2
In the end, Myuri let them stay in a room at the inn. Lawrence wanted to at least help out by shipping some goods, but Myuri couldn’t just accept his hospitality with something so important to the lives of his men. He seemed like a good leader, fit to bear a name as legendary as Myuri’s. All Lawrence could do was try to comfort Holo, but..
“I’d like to be alone for a while.”<
br />
Holo made her request between sobs. He knew she might just be messing with him to make him nervous, but since he wasn’t nervous right now he knew she meant it. She had already held him tightly for a long cry, and now she needed to confide in herself. He knew she genuinely needed time to herself, to think things over. So he just quietly dried her tears with his finger and pointed at the water skin on the table.
“As long as you stick to drinking water.”
Drinking right now would only make her more miserable, so she put a big dumb grin on her swollen, tearful face.
“Foolish mule.”
“I’ll stay in the inn, and let you know if I have to leave.”
The still-fresh memories of their visit to Lenos made him hesitate, but he still hugged her and stood up. She stared at him until he left the room. He sighed once the door was closed behind him, but not out of compassion. Myuri’s sad message to her had been delivered, but his descendants were still alive and his legend lived on.
“Got a minute?”
Myuri had been leaning against the wall at the top of the stairs, just a few steps away from their room. He stood up tall as he spoke, and when Lawrence nodded he descended the stairs after making his request.
“Please join me in my room.”
“Sure.”
A mercenary captain, someone used to killing and seeing death, not to mention buying and selling slaves, was holding the door open for Lawrence. It was strange that the teenager hired for that job wasn’t doing it instead. He seemed a bit confused at being dismissed, and even more surprised to see the captain doing it in his place.
“Don’t be nervous.”
Myuri walked into the room after gently dismissing the teenager, and stretched his hands out to Lawrence in a gesture of goodwill.
“See, I’m still trembling too.”
Mercenaries should never show weakness, so Lawrence took that as a sign of great respect. He realized it was mostly respect for Holo, but even the slightest respect heading his way was relieving.
“I still haven’t asked you your name.”
Myuri let Lawrence take a seat before sitting down himself.
“Lawrence. Kraft Lawrence.”
“Kraft Lawrence.. a fine name. You’re not from a Ploanian guild, are you?”
His manner of speech didn’t match his roughness of appearance. Lawrence knew that if he relaxed even for a moment, he would see right through him.
“No, I’m a member of Rowen.”
Myuri nodded. Mercenaries fought everywhere, so he surely knew more regions than any merchant would.
“Well then. I take it you mean former member, since you surely violated their orders when you came here, yes?”
“Correct. Technically I’m nobody now.”
If anything happened now, no company would come to his aid. Yet Myuri seemed to relax a bit when he heard that. Lawrence was a bit puzzled by that, but the teenager from a moment ago suddenly entered the room carrying a bottle of wine and two rough clay cups on a tray.
“Let’s have a drink. If you’re worried about poison, I don’t mind exchanging cups.”
“Oh, no need. Don’t worry about it.”
It wasn’t really funny, but Lawrence still chuckled. He could tell how restless Myuri was when he took the cup from him. Myuri smiled like he was trying to conceal his embarrassment.
“This really does feel like a predestined meeting.”
Myuri lifted his cup and took a drink. Lawrence did the same. It was great wine. So good that Lawrence stared at it in awe until Myuri seemed pleased.
“It would have been that much better if my father and grandfather were here, though.”
Myuri’s eyes had been tracing around the desk like he was searching for the right words to say. It was a bit odd to hear him ultimately say that when he looked up.
“You know, it’s really tough to accept this. I was fully prepared for this to be some sort of swindle.”
He smiled, but was obviously having a tougher time than he let on. Lawrence wasn’t sure how mildly to react.
“I can’t blame you for thinking that.”
In the end he just spoke his mind. Myuri nodded in agreement, then faked a cough.
“Whenever a battle starts, we fight on the border between the worlds of the living and the dead.”
Lawrence had even less of a clue what to say now. Even back when he didn’t believe in gods, he could swear his deceased traveling companions were walking beside his cart on rainy, moonless nights.
“I didn’t know if it was God or the Reaper, but on several brushes with death I could feel myself being pointed in the right direction to survive. Maybe that’s just something that soldiers feel, and maybe there’s nothing actually there, but I can’t help but feel like something’s helped me out. That’s why-”
He sighed and looked down at the desk, unsure whether he should finish his sentence or not. But after taking a deep breath, he chose to finish it.
“That’s why our flag is like that.”
The red flag up on the wall had a howling wolf on it. It was common for mercenaries to put animals on their flags, and wolves symbolized power and wisdom. Lots of people liked that notion, but it didn’t explain why Myuri showed no fear when he saw Holo’s ears. All Lawrence could imagine was that Myuri had been saved by something inhuman on some occasion.
“I guess you’ve also got a helper like this? Maybe..?”
“Holo?”
Myuri’s face scrunched up when he heard Lawrence say her name.
“..Is it alright to call her by name like that?”
He stared at the ceiling as he asked, his tone clearly being serious.
“Oddly enough, she doesn’t like being treated like a god.”
Myuri raised an eyebrow in puzzlement and let out a short breath. Suddenly he burst out laughing with his hand on his forehead.
“Maybe I do have some of that blood after all.. I’ve always hated being called ‘captain.”’
He might just be joking around to ease the tense atmosphere, but Lawrence wasn’t too happy to hear that bit about bloodlines.
“My ancestor was a wolf - lots of my men trust that. But my father and grandfather always plainly denied it. They even got angry when they heard it.”
“Angry?”
“Legend has it that my ancestor, our band’s founder, met a wolf one day. He helped that wolf, and they helped him, and over time our band was formed. The wolf’s name was Myuri.”
Lawrence nodded, seeing the truth of it. Myuri kept talking.
“Of course, we got the better part of the bargain, so we’ve always revered wolves. I mean, we only use fur from foxes, mink, and deer, even if they’re that much more expensive.”
Myuri shrugged, probably intentionally, having revealed that their group wasn’t really that powerful. Lawrence had a hard time believing that, but it seemed to be true.
“Still, we have to use stories like that to recruit members.”
He waved his cup and continued.
“In the grand scheme of things, these kinds of stories are the most effective tools we have. They’re like soul food, helping people keep their eyes on the future. That’s how I see it.”
Lawrence’s former guild also had a founding legend. All towns and villages did as well. This kind of thing helped distinguish where people were from. It made for a solid foundation where people could gather.
“Yeah.. maybe.”
Myuri took another deep breath and showed an exhausted smile when he looked back up at Lawrence. He had been looking at the desk for a while now.
“You know, I’ve heard so many stories about my ancestors, but the most revered ones were always of Holo the Wisewolf. I was always told to show her the message carved on that claw if I ever met her.”
Lawrence stared at the ceiling for a while. He wasn’t about to say something offensive, but he still wanted to tread lightly.
“I met her in a remote village, where she told me she
’d lived for centuries. She couldn’t even remember where her home was anymore, but wanted to go back. That’s why I’m sending her back.”
“Sending her back?”
Myuri spoke as if Lawrence had misspoken. After a moment of puzzlement Lawrence saw the forced smile on his face and understood. He’d seen how Holo clung to him while she cried.
“I mean bringing her back.”
He was unable to suppress a smile as he corrected himself.
“That’s what makes life worth living.. you never know who or what you’ll meet tomorrow. Though it does come with never-ending worries.”
He stared at Lawrence with sharp eyes. He’d been friendly, but now it was clear that the time for pleasantries was over. His dream-like demeanor had suddenly returned to cold, hard reality. Lawrence’s entire body was tense as he waited for Myuri’s next question.
“I want the truth. Are you two out to destroy Diva?”
As Lawrence expected of someone in a mercenary band named after Myuri, he was already considering such things after just meeting with Holo. Lawrence had anticipated several questions like this, and had already prepared several possible answers. He’d planned on saying something like “even if I can’t, I’d like to give them a run for their money,” if for no reason other than to match Myuri’s tough attitude. But it seemed that Myuri was genuinely afraid of something.
“No, that’s impossible.”
Myuri didn’t react. Lawrence moistened his dry lips and continued.
“What we’re really worried about is Yoitsu.”
Several seconds of silence followed before the mercenary captain finally nodded.
“Really?”
It was a short reply, followed by a shrug and a deep breath. He stopped breathing for a while, probably trying to sort out his nervousness.
“..huh, really..”
He sighed as he repeated himself, his short hair tumbling around. He seemed tired, like he’d finally completed his task in this conversation. In his heart, it seemed he was afraid that Lawrence was going to say they were out to destroy Diva.
“Of course our trip would be easier if we just find help and destroy Diva company.”
All this time, Holo had concealed her identity, worrying about the Church and even harsh receptions from other ancient spirits in the towns they visited. She realized now just how hard people struggled just to survive these harsh times. She would rather just bare her fangs and move forward, unforgiving of anyone for getting in her way, but that kind of approach just wouldn’t work anymore.
Spice & Wolf XV (DWT) Page 3