Spice and Wolf, Vol. 6

by Isuna Hasekura

  It occurred to him to wonder if Holo was all right, and when he looked around, a sight terrible enough to snap him out of his drunkenness in an instant greeted him at the end of his shaky vision.

  “Yes, a strange job…hmm? Ha-ha-ha! She has a catlike quickness about her—it quite suits her, don’t you think?”

  Ragusa’s laugh was directed at Holo, whose dancing figure had elicited a great cry of delight from the crowd.

  She had shed her heavy robe, and her tail waved silkily about as she spun and danced, hands joined with the dancing girl.

  On her head was the skin of what might have been a flying squirrel or some small animal, and at first glance, it looked as though she was flaunting both her ears and tail.

  Lawrence was speechless at Holo’s recklessness, but nobody else seemed to be concerned.

  When he looked more carefully, he saw that the dancing girl, too, had a fox fur wrapped around her as an improvised tail, as well as a squirrel skin tied about her head.

  While Lawrence couldn’t help but marvel at Holo’s nerve, he also couldn’t rule out the possibility that his judgment had been dulled by the liquor.

  Even as he worried about what would happen if she was found out, she seemed truly joyful as she danced.

  And her long waves of hair and soft, fluffy tail caused something to stir within Lawrence’s chest, like some mysterious sorcery.

  “So, yes, about that strange job.”

  Lawrence snapped out of his dream at Ragusa’s words.

  Somewhere along the line, the question Holo had asked of him in Lenos—“Which is more important, me or profit?”—was becoming less and less difficult to solve.

  What did it mean that he tried to excuse that thought away by telling himself that it was just the liquor?

  Either way, Lawrence lightly hit his fog-filled head and turned his attention to what Ragusa was saying.

  “He’d been carrying money orders for the same company over and over. That’s the other reason I was interested in what you were talking about—I was afraid that old Zonal had gotten himself mixed up in some kind of strange dealings. And that company is the supplier for those copper coins. I don’t have courage enough for such things.”

  Because places that imported and exported copper coins had to be close with the area’s political power, there weren’t many.

  While a town might prosper thanks to a copper mine, in places where the whole of the town’s fortune depended on that mine, the merchants and rulers of the area would be forced to collude.

  Ragusa’s voice was lowered; he wasn’t saying anything good about the very same merchants who gave him work.

  He must have seen a good deal of corruption already.

  Lawrence’s vision and speech were blurred, but on this topic, his mind was entirely clear.

  “But…still, wouldn’t that be…the sort of letter you’d leave to the butcher?”

  Butchers were often given letters to deliver, since they made their rounds among local farmers to buy pigs or sheep nearly every day.

  Boatmen went up and down the Roam River.

  It wasn’t strange that they would be given a coin order to deliver.

  “Well, when he delivered a money order to the Jean Company in Kerube that he’d picked up in Lesko, he was apparently given a certificate of refusal.”

  “A certificate of refusal?”

  Instead of sending a sackful of jingling coins, there would be a piece of paper that said to please pay so-and-so a certain amount of money at a certain place. The paper and the system behind it was known as a money order, but a refusal certificate meant somebody didn’t want to turn the order into coin as requested.

  But what was strange was the idea that anyone would send the same money order day after day when it was being rejected.

  “Strange, isn’t it? He was given money orders time and again, only to have them rejected every time. Someone is definitely up to something.”

  “…There…there may be some kind of circumstance…”

  “Circumstance?”

  “Er…It’s a money order; in other words, they’re transporting money. And money’s value is always changing. If the money’s value changed while the money order was in transit…so they might not want to honor the order, or…”

  Ragusa’s eyes were serious.

  As long as he had money, a traveling merchant could go where he wished and buy whatever goods he liked, then go and sell them anywhere else—from a certain perspective, such a man was free.

  By contrast, the livelihoods of Ragusa and his cohorts were tied to a single river.

  If they angered a shipper, even the deepest, widest river might as well have dried up entirely.

  Their weak position meant they were taken advantage of, involved in strange schemes only to be sunk outright.

  Trading that involved boats was more enjoyable, but a horse and wagon could go wherever its driver pleased.

  “So there’s no need to…worry…” Lawrence’s head slumped, and he yawned hugely.

  Ragusa regarded Lawrence dubiously, then gave a deep sigh. “Hmph. The world is filled with vexing things.”

  “While it may be that ignorance is a sin…it’s impossible to know everything.”

  Unable to bear the weight of his own eyelids, Lawrence’s eyes grew narrower and narrower.

  All that he could see now was Ragusa’s cross-legged form, and Lawrence wondered if he would soon be at his limit.

  “True enough. Hah. I watched the boy’s clumsiness with a smile, but now I see I’m not so different myself. Unlike us, he was deceived by a cheap stack of paper, but in the right place, he’d be wiser than either of us, would he not?” said Ragusa, ruffling the passed-out Col’s hair.

  There was real regret in Ragusa’s eyes, as though if Col had truly been unable to pay the boat fare, Ragusa would have used that to keep him on board.

  “Church…law, was it?”

  “Eh? Oh, yes…so he said.”

  “And what a vexing thing to study. If he’d work with me, he wouldn’t have to study that. Plus he’d get three…no, two meals a day.”

  Lawrence found himself smiling at Ragusa’s honesty.

  With physical labor, you only got three meals a day when you were full-fledged.

  “He seems to have a goal,” said Lawrence, and Ragusa threw him a glance.

  “Come now…did you try to steal a march on me, tempting him away while you were walking?”

  His anger seemed genuine, which was proof of how highly Ragusa thought of Col.

  It was hardly strange for a man of Ragusa’s age to be looking for an apprentice to train to inherit his vessel. If Lawrence himself had been a bit older, he would have happily stooped to dirty tricks to ensure Col stayed with him.

  “I did no such thing. I did confirm the strength of his will, though.”

  “Mmph.” Ragusa folded his arms and grunted through his nose.

  “All we can do is…try…try to leave him with a small debt of gratitude, I expect,” said Lawrence through a hiccup, which the unyielding boatman laughed at grandly in the manner of his kind.

  “Bwa-ha-ha! I reckon so. What shall I do? If the boy solves the copper coin puzzle, his ticket will be worth something.”

  “That’s what he intended.”

  “How about it, won’t you toss out a clue?” Ragusa leaned forward, speaking conspiratorially, but Lawrence only slumped over.

  “Unfortunately I can’t. And even if I could…he’ll owe me, too, so that will settle everything.”

  For his part, Lawrence was compelled by the temptation to keep Col on hand, if he could.

  But while he’d genuinely felt that way walking down the road with Col earlier, now he wasn’t quite so sure.

  It was yet early for him to be taking an apprentice, and now was not the time.

  Just because he had been forced into making the preparations didn’t mean he could simply hold out his hands in welcome.

  Lawrence smiled ru
efully to himself.

  “True enough. Three chests of copper is a big difference. The only way to move a load that heavy is over water. And if it goes that way, there’s no way I won’t hear of it. Either that, or what’s written on that paper is just wrong.”

  Ragusa’s voice was becoming more and more slurred.

  Even his huge body was beginning to succumb to drunkenness.

  “That’s true…I suppose. There’s a story of one letter’s mistake turning eel to gold coin and causing a huge uproar.”

  “Hmph. Might well be that way. Oh, about that, there was one interesting thing. They were searching for it for years, I heard.”

  “Huh…?” Lawrence was at his limit, and it felt as though his body and consciousness were farther and farther apart.

  He thought he was looking toward Ragusa, but his vision was black.

  He heard words as though from a great distance.

  Roef. Headwaters. Lesko.

  And then he thought he heard something about the bones of a hellhound.

  That couldn’t be right.

  If he was entertaining such notions, it had to be in a dream, he thought.

  Or some kind of fairy tale.

  But then, the thought that a fairy tale–like thing had indeed become very familiar rose up and enveloped him within the darkness of deep sleep.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  There was a sweetish charred scent.

  Perhaps honey bread was burning.

  If so, the baker responsible was making a fool of himself.

  But Lawrence soon realized the smell wasn’t food being overcooked.

  He remembered the smell, along with the fire.

  It was the scent of an animal.

  “…Mmph.”

  When he opened his eyes, he saw the starry night sky above him.

  A beautiful gibbous moon hung in the sky, and Lawrence felt as if he were lying underwater.

  It seemed that some kind soul had put a blanket over him, and although he was fortunately not shivering from cold, his body was strangely heavy.

  Wondering if it was the residual effects of the liquor, he tried to sit up—which was when he noticed.

  He raised his head and peeled back the blanket.

  There was Holo, sleeping comfortably, soot smudged on her forehead and cheek.

  “Ah, so it was this…”

  She seemed to have had quite a good time.

  Her beautiful bangs had been slightly singed, and as she breathed, her breath carried the burnt smell to Lawrence’s nose. Added to that was Holo’s own sweet scent along with the scent of her tail, and Lawrence realized that was what he had smelled in his dream.

  The sleeping Holo did not have her robe on, and her ears were exposed.

  The squirrel fur had indeed fallen right next to her head, so Lawrence could see that Holo had made a vague attempt to hide her ears.

  Since they weren’t surrounded by adherents of the Church pointing spears at them, it seemed unlikely that Holo’s secret had been discovered; Lawrence let his head fall back as he sighed.

  He then took his hand off the blanket and rested it on her head.

  Her ears twitched, and her even breathing stopped.

  She then shivered as though sneezing and curled up more tightly.

  Her arms and legs fidgeted around, and finally her face moved as she rested her chin on Lawrence’s chest, then sat up.

  The eyes that stared at him from under the blanket were still glazed, as though half-asleep.

  “You’re heavy,” said Lawrence, at which Holo covered her face again and shivered. She seemed to be yawning, but her fingernails on Lawrence’s chest were proof enough that she was awake.

  Eventually she raised her head. “What’s the matter?”

  “You’re heavy.”

  “Nay, my body is quite light. Something else must be weighing upon you.”

  “Shall I say then that your feelings are heavy?”

  “That makes it seem like I am some sort of uninvited guest.” Holo chuckled throatily, resting her cheek against Lawrence’s chest.

  “Honestly…So, I assume you weren’t found out?”

  “About whose bedroom I share, you mean?”

  Lawrence murmured to himself that he wished she would be honest and say “bed.”

  “No, I was not found out. Everyone was too roused to notice. Heh—you should have come yourself.”

  “I can imagine it, more or less…but I’d rather not get burned.” Lawrence fingered Holo’s singed bangs, and Holo closed her eyes ticklishly. They would probably need to be trimmed back.

  Before he could admonish her for excessive merrymaking, Holo spoke. “I heard much of the northlands from the traveling girl. Apparently they just finished working in Nyohhira. To hear her tell it, it hasn’t changed much from the old days.”

  Holo opened her eyes and gazed at Lawrence’s fingers, then nuzzled his chest like an affectionate cat.

  But she seemed to be doing it to scrub her face free of the emotion that threatened to show there. It was clear that she struggled to restrain the emotions that welled up.

  “Always so stubborn,” said Lawrence, and Holo curled up.

  Just like a stubborn child.

  “We have time to decide what to do, though. We’re chasing Eve first, after all.”

  Holo’s pointed ears were against Lawrence’s chest, so she surely noticed his chuckle.

  Digging into his chest with her fingernails, Holo sniffed her objection.

  “Would you get off me? I’m thirsty.” Lawrence had drunk a lot.

  And he didn’t know whether it was the middle of the night or just a few minutes until dawn.

  Holo didn’t move for a moment, and Lawrence wondered if she was being malicious, but at length, she shifted and moved.

  Then, straddling him like she would a horse, she tilted her head back as though she was about to howl and yawned a great yawn.

  It was a strangely captivating, untouchably divine sight, and Lawrence found himself fascinated by it.

  Having satisfied her desire to bare her teeth at the moon, Holo sleepily smacked her lips a few times, then closed her mouth as she wiped the sleep from the corners of her eyes. She then smiled faintly as she looked down at Lawrence.

  “Being on top does suit me, I must say.”

  “And I’m under you—literally, this time.”

  The fringes of Holo’s ears were lit by the moonlight.

  With their every movement, the moonbeams seemed to dance.

  “I daresay, I’d like some water, myself…hmm? Where did my robe go?” Holo looked around, evidently not joking.

  Lawrence choked back the words that came to mind—What do you think is wrapped around your waist?—and looked up at the night sky.

  It was the dead of night. If this had been an abbey, the friars would have been awakening to chant the first prayers of the day.

  Nonetheless, not everyone was asleep. Apart from the people curled up here and there like so many piles of cow dung, there was a circle of men sitting around the fire.

  “Eyahri,” said one of the men as he noticed Holo and raised his right hand in greeting.

  Holo smiled, amused, and returned the wave.

  “What’s that about?” asked Lawrence.

  “’Tis an old greeting. Apparently it’s still in use around the vast mountains of Roef,” Holo explained.

  Since Lawrence was usually the one who was in a position to explain the world’s customs, this made him realize just how far north they had actually come.

  This was really Holo’s territory now.

  He remembered her profile as near the wheat fields, she had been overcome by the memories of the north to which she thought she would never return.

  He wanted to put into words, to say it—You want to stop heading for Kerube, don’t you?

  But if he did, she would certainly turn angry.

  After all, he didn’t want her to speak those words, either.

&nb
sp; “Ah, the boy’s awake,” declared Holo, interrupting Lawrence’s uncharitable thoughts.

  While everybody had more or less lay down and gone to sleep wherever they pleased, people seemed to be collected in a certain area—but off in one corner was a small form that seemed to be doing something.

  To Lawrence’s still liquor-blurred eyes, it looked like it might have been Holo.

  Which meant it was Col.

  “What’s he doing?”

  “Hmph. Looks to be writing something,” said Holo.

  Though he could make out the boy’s outline in the moonlight, Lawrence couldn’t see what Col’s hands were doing—he could only see that he was looking down and doing something with what looked like a stick or branch.

  Col might well have been studying with his free time.

  “Anyway, water. My throat is burning.”

  “Mm.”

  Taking the water skin that Holo seemed to have gotten from somebody, Lawrence stood at the riverbank and untied its string.

  It was empty, of course, and the drinking spout seemed to have been rather chewed up.

  Lawrence looked at Holo, who avoided his gaze. Perhaps she liked to chew on things and had simply hid it from him thus far.

  Perhaps she was worried about seeming animalistic.

  No—more likely it was that such a childish habit was not something a proper wisewolf would indulge in.

  Lawrence’s smile was so faint that in the moonlight it was imperceptible, and he filled the water skin. The river water on this winter’s night felt like just-melted ice.

  “Guh…” He filled his mouth with the painfully cold water.

  Lawrence could drink any amount of water after drinking so much wine.

  “Come, give it here,” said Holo, snatching the water skin away and drinking from it—then coughing, which was only as much as she deserved.

  “So, did you hear any interesting talk?” asked Lawrence, patting Holo’s back as she coughed and realizing that her movements were a bit exaggerated. If you want me to pay attention to you, just ask, he thought—but did not point out her lie.

  “Kuh…whew…Interesting talk, you say?”

  “You said you heard about Nyohhira, didn’t you?”

  “Mm. Nobody knew the name of Yoitsu, but many had heard of the Moon-Hunting Bear.”