Spice & Wolf

by Hasekura Isuna

  Lawrence recalled the time Holo had so fondly reminisced about her friend from centuries earlier.

  Dwelling so nostalgically on the past proved she was lonely. He remembered how she looked then, curled up as if to protect herself from a storm of isolation.

  Lawrence chose his words very carefully to avoid hurting her feelings—she didn’t often show this side of herself. “I expect I’ll stay with you until you’re back home in the north country, though.”

  He had little choice but to say as much, but nonetheless Holo looked up with an expression that said “Really?” in a rather humble manner. Lawrence carefully concealed the excitement he felt and continued.

  “Even when the money comes in I won’t be able to open up a store right away.”

  “Truly?”

  “Why would I lie?” said Lawrence. He couldn’t help smiling bitterly; Holo, too, smiled, but in relief. The slight downward cast of her eyes made her seem somehow tinged with loneliness. Lawrence was struck with the incongruous realization that her eyelashes were really quite long.

  “So come on, don’t make that face,” he added.

  A city merchant would probably have been able to come up with something more effective to say, but unfortunately Lawrence was always traveling and forced into a life absent of women. Still, Holo looked up and smiled slightly “Mm-hm,” she assented with a nod.

  Seeing such a small girl so meek made her seem almost fleeting somehow. The wolf ears she normally held so high lay flat and directionless, and her proud tail curled up uncertainly next to her body.

  It was suddenly silent.

  Lawrence continued to watch Holo, who seemed unable to return his gaze.

  She glanced at him just once, then quickly looked away. Lawrence felt he’d seen this before. Sifting through his memories, he realized it had been the apple incident, shortly after they’d arrived in Pazzio.

  She’d wanted apples then—what did she need now?

  Understanding another person’s desire was a singularly important skill for a merchant.

  Lawrence took a deep breath and stood. Surprised by the sudden noise, Holo’s ears and tail twitched, and she regarded Lawrence. Flustered by his sudden approach, she looked away.

  She reached her hands out to him as he stood before her—tremulously, almost frightened.

  “Was it crying in your sleep that made your eyes red?” Lawrence took her hand and sat beside her. He pulled her close and held her gently.

  “When I...”

  “Hm?”

  “When...when I open my eyes, they’re gone. Yue, Inti, Paro, and Myuri...they’re all gone. They’re nowhere.”

  She was talking about her dream. Lawrence stroked her head softly as she sniffled. The names she’d mentioned must have been her wolf friends, perhaps even fellow wolf-gods—but he was far from insensitive enough to ask.

  “I—I can live for centuries. So I thought I would go traveling.

  I was sure, so very sure, that I’d see them all again. But. .. they were gone. There was no one.”

  Holo’s hand trembled as she grasped Lawrence’s shirt. Lawrence himself didn’t want to be plagued by such dreams.

  If he were to return to his hometown, not a soul would remember him—sometimes he had similar nightmares.

  There were tales of merchants who’d left their homeland and not returned for twenty or thirty years. They would finally return home to find their village simply gone. It might have been razed to the ground in a war or stricken by plague or famine—there were any number of possible reasons.

  This is why traveling merchants dreamed of owning a shop.

  A shop meant a home, making a place for oneself.

  “I don’t want to open my eyes and find no one there...I’m tired of being alone. It’s cold. It’s . .. lonely.”

  Lawrence remained silent at her outpouring of emotion, only stroking her head. She was so distressed that anything he said would likely fall on deaf ears, and he couldn’t think of anything appropriate to say anyway.

  He himself had been assailed by the winds of loneliness when riding his wagon or entering a new town.

  There was nothing one could do in such times—nothing one could hear and find consoling. The only thing to do was find something to grab hold of and wait out the storm.

  Holo continued to cry.

  Lawrence held her, and at length the waves of emotion subsided and she let go of his clothes, looking up at him.

  He let go of her, and she sat up, still sniffling.

  “...How humiliating,” said Holo, her nose and eyes still red but her voice calm.

  “Traveling merchants have dreams like that, too,” said Lawrence.

  Holo giggled shyly and sniffled through her stuffed-up nose.

  “Your face is a mess. Hang on.”

  Lawrence stood and took the paper from the desk. The drawings and figures on the sheet were dry, so he thought it would be okay for her to blow her nose on it.

  “But...this is your ..”

  “I always throw them away when I’m done. The deal isn’t even finished yet—it’s too early to be optimistic,” said Lawrence with a smile.

  Holo returned his smile and took the paper. After blowing her nose mightily on it and wiping her eyes, she looked much better. She sighed and took a deep breath, then looked sheepish once more.

  Seeing her like this, Lawrence wanted to embrace her again but refrained. Holo was herself again, and he would likely be made light of.

  “I’m in your debt now,” she said, picking up the now-crumbled bread and eating it. It was unclear whether or not she’d discerned his thoughts.

  Relieved in any case that he hadn’t been chided, he watched her as she finished eating and yawned, dusting her hands free from crumbs. She was probably tired from crying.

  “I’m still sleepy. Can you sleep?” she asked.

  “Soon, yes. Staying awake any longer would be a waste of candlelight.”

  “Heh, spoken like a true merchant,” said Holo, smiling as she sat cross-legged on the bed, then lay down.

  After taking one last look at her, Lawrence blew the candle out.

  Darkness fell instantly. As his eyes were still used to the light, it seemed pitch-black. The weather was clear and the stars were out. He couldn’t yet see the faint light that filtered through the wooden window. As he waited for his eyes to adjust, Lawrence felt his way to his own bed beneath the window in the corner of the room, careful not to trip over Holo’s bed on his way.

  Finally he made it and, after feeling the edge of the bed, lay down on it. In the past, Lawrence had bruised himself by carelessly flinging himself toward the bed and accidentally hitting the edge. He’d learned to be careful.

  But there was no way for him to be prepared for what awaited him.

  As he started to lie down in the bed, he realized someone was already in it.

  “Wha—what are you—”

  “Don’t be such a prude,” said Holo in an irritated voice that was nonetheless flirtatious.

  Lawrence let himself be pulled down, and Holo pressed herself against him.

  Unlike before when he’d held her gently, this embrace was tight. He felt her unmistakably soft body.

  Lawrence’s rising heartbeat could not be controlled. He was a healthy man, after all. He’d embraced her tightly almost before he realized it.

  “...Can’t breathe...” came Holo’s constricted voice. He returned to his senses and relaxed his arms but did not let go of her. She made no move to push him away.

  Instead, she drew close to his ear and whispered.

  “Have your eyes adjusted yet?”

  “What do you—”

  —Mean, he was about to say, but Holo cut him off with a finger pressed to his lips.

  “I finally remembered what I was going to say to you.”

  Her whispering voice was itchy. Itchy, indeed—though her sweetly intimate tone was gone, replaced by an alarming edge to her voice.

  “It�
��s a bit late. There are three people outside the door. I doubt they are guests.”

  Lawrence finally realized that Holo was already wearing her cloak. She rummaged around quietly, and soon all of Lawrence’s belongings appeared on his chest.

  “We’re on the second story. Fortunately there is no one outside. Are you ready?”

  Growing excited in a completely different sense now, Holo got up. Lawrence pretended to draw the blanket over himself, and put on his clothes.

  Just as he was affixing his silver dagger to his waist, Holo spoke loudly, her voice purposely carrying beyond the closed door.

  “Come, see my body ’neath the moonlight!”

  As soon as she finished, Lawrence heard a window clatter open. Holo perched on the windowsill and jumped down without hesitation. Lawrence scrambled after her, putting his foot on the sill. He didn’t hesitate, either—because behind him came the sound of the door being pried open, followed by heavy footsteps.

  He felt unpleasantly weightless for a moment, but his feet soon collided with the hard ground.

  Unable to bear the force of the impact, Lawrence landed in a squatting position.

  He was lucky not to have broken his leg, but Holo still laughed loudly at him, although she did extend her hand.

  “We’ll have to run. We’ve no time to collect the horse.”

  A stunned Lawrence glanced back at the stables. The horse had been strong and cheap but more importantly was the first thing he’d ever bought.

  Part of him wanted to make a break for the stables, but prudence told him not to. Holo’s course of action was the right one.

  Lawrence clenched his teeth and restrained himself.

  “They will gain nothing by killing your horse; we’ll wait for things to calm before retrieving it, yes?” said Holo by way of consolation. Lawrence could only hope that it was true. He nodded and took a deep breath, grabbing her outstretched hand and pulling himself up.

  “Oh, also—”

  Holo took the pouch that hung from her neck and undid the string that bound it closed. She poured roughly half of the wheat it contained into her hand.

  “Just in case. You should take some, too,” she said, casually thrusting the grains into the pocket on his chest without waiting for his reply. They felt warm; it was probably Holo’s body heat.

  After all, it was the wheat in which she lived.

  “Right, now let’s run.”

  Holo smiled as though speaking with a trusted friend. Lawrence was about to reply but simply nodded his head and dashed with her toward the town in the night.

  “So, what I was going to say to you was this—if the Milone Company could check up on that boy, surely the reverse is true. His backers were bound to be alerted. If they discover we’re gone to another company with a deal, they’ll try to silence us, no?”

  The only light on the cobbled path was the moon, but it was enough to see by. They continued to run without spotting another person, then turned down an alley.

  Lawrence could barely see anything in the darkness there. Holo led him on, tugging on his hand as she ran, Lawrence stumbling after her.

  They ran near an intersection and saw a group of men behind them, shouting. He caught the words “Milone Company” among their shouts.

  They, too, knew that the only place Lawrence and Holo would find sanctuary was the Milone Company

  “Oops. I don’t know the way,” said Holo, still pulling on Lawrence’s hand as they came to a fork. Lawrence looked up and checked the moon’s position and phase and mentally roughed out a map of Pazzio.

  “This way.”

  They ran down the western fork. This part of Pazzio was old. Buildings were constantly being rebuilt, and the road wound through them like a snake.

  But Lawrence had visited Pazzio many times. Furtively checking their position against the main road as they went, the pair came closer and closer to the Milone Company.

  But their opponents were no fools.

  “Stop. There’s a guard.”

  They needed only to turn right at this intersection, follow the road to its end, then turn left. Four blocks later, they’d be at the Milone Company. There should still be men loading and unloading wagons at this hour. If they could make it there, the thugs wouldn’t be able to touch them. In a city of commerce, the best security was the wealth implied by the signboard of a large business.

  “Tch. We’re so close.”

  “Heh-heh. I’ve not hunted in many years, but this is my first time being hunted.”

  “This is no time for jokes. Oh, well, we’ll have to take the long way around.”

  Lawrence backtracked to the original road, turning right along it. He decided that they’d take an alley after the next block and circle around to the Milone Company.

  But he was stopped after he made his first right turn.

  Holo grabbed his shirt and pushed him against the wall.

  “Did you find them? They should be close by! Find them!”

  The current of fear that ran through him was worse than when he’d been chased by wolves in the forest. Two men came dashing violently out of a nearby alley. If Holo hadn’t stopped, she and Lawrence might have run right into them.

  “Damn. There are too many of them. And they know the area.”

  “Mmm...’tis a bad situation,” said Holo. Her hood was down, exposing her wolf ears as she scanned left and right.

  “Shall we split up?”

  “Not a bad idea, but I’ve a better one.”

  “Which is?”

  Footsteps could be heard nearby. Undoubtedly every main road now had a guard on it. They’d be cornered as soon as they tried to use one.

  “I’ll head down the main road and draw them off. Then you can take the chance to—”

  “Wait. You can’t—”

  “Now you listen. If we split up, you’re the one that will be caught. On my own, I won’t be caught, but you will. And when that happens, who is going to go to the company? Shall I show them my ears and tail and beg for your rescue? Well?”

  Lawrence had no retort. He had already informed the Milone Company about the depreciating trenni silver. They might even abandon him and Holo both. Should that happen, his only recourse would be to play himself as a trump card and threaten to invest in their opponent.

  And only he could conduct those negotiations.

  “Either way it’s no good. If the Milone Company sees your ears and tail, they may turn you over to the Church. And I needn’t mention the Medio Company.”

  “So all I need do is avoid capture? And should I be caught, I’ll just hide my ears and tail for a day while you come to rescue me.”

  Perhaps because of her bravado, Lawrence wanted to stop her from doing this that much more. She smiled up at him.

  “I’m Holo the Wisewolf. Even if my ears and tail are discovered, I’ll pretend to be a mad wolf, and none will want to come near me.” She grinned, showing her fangs.

  Yet all Lawrence could think of was embracing the sobbing girl who spoke of loneliness, with her impossibly slight form. He couldn’t imagine turning her over to these hired thugs.

  Still smiling, Holo continued. “Your dream is to own a shop, is it not? And just a moment ago I said I was in your debt. Are you trying to make a dishonorable wolf of me?”

  “Don’t be foolish! If you’re caught, you’ll be killed! What honor is there in that? I’ll wind up owing you a debt I can never repay!” raged Lawrence, his voice low.

  Holo smiled thinly and shook her head. She poked him lightly in the chest with her slender forefinger. “Loneliness is a deadly illness. We are even.”

  Lawrence had no words at the sight of her calm, grateful smile. Holo took advantage of the silence and continued. “Besides, you’re a quick thinker and clever—I promise. I trust you. I know you’ll come for me.”

  She quickly embraced the silent Lawrence and then slipped free of his grasp, dashing away.

  “There they are! On Loinne Road!”
/>   As soon as Holo ran out of the alley, the shouts could be heard, and the pursuers’ footsteps grew distant.

  Lawrence clamped his eyes shut for a moment, the forced them open and ran. If he missed this chance, he might never see Holo again. He quickly ran down the dark alley—stumbling a few times, but always moving forward. He crossed the wide road and entered another alley, heading west.

  The commotion continued, but his opponent could not afford to make noise for long lest they alert the town guard.

  He continued running, sprinting again across the main road, and heading down another alley. He needed only to turn right, then left on the next main road, to reach the Milone Company.

  “Just one? There should be two!”

  Lawrence heard the voice come from behind him. Had Holo been captured? Did she escape? If she’d escaped, that was fine. No—he hoped desperately that it was so.

  He jumped onto the moonlit boulevard and turned immediately left. Soon he heard voices behind him. “There he is!”

  Ignoring them, he sprinted with all his strength, hurling himself against the gates of the Milone Company’s loading area.

  “I’m Lawrence—I came earlier today! Help! I’m being pursued!”

  Wakened into action by the commotion, the men on duty opened the iron gate.

  Immediately after Lawrence disappeared behind it, a group of men carrying wooden staves rushed up to the gate.

  “Wait, you! Give that man to us!” said one of them, hitting the gate with his stave. The men began trying to use force to pull the gate open.

  But those who held the gate closed on the opposite side were used to long days of loading and unloading. The gate would not open so easily

  A bearded man on the far side of middle age emerged from within the company building. “Scum!” he roared. “Whose house do you think this is? It is the Milone Company’s Pazzio branch, owned by the honorable Marquis Milone, recognized by His Grace, the thirty-third Archduke of Raondille!

  Anyone within these walls is a guest of the Marquis! Know that when you strike these gates, you strike His Grace’s throne!”