Spice & Wolf XVI (DWT)

by Hasekura Isuna

  She rose from the bed as Hildir nodded, glad to have the help of a capable ally.

  “How long might it take you?”

  “I know not.. I do not know the distance.”

  Hildir’s face contorted, making it clear that money nor weapons mattered now, only time.

  “Which is further from here? Lenos or Kinisen?”

  Lawrence did his best to help. Hildir’s ears perked up.

  “On a fast horse, it takes twice as long as going to Lenos.”

  “Are the road conditions worse?”

  “More or less.”

  That didn’t really matter to Holo, but Lawrence still asked. She replied, obviously annoyed.

  “If I do not rest, it will take one and a half days, so three or four days there and back.”

  Hildir nodded again, quite resolutely.

  “Your bird may weep for his wings.”

  “Of course, it’s shameful.”

  Holo frowned. The word “optimism” just wasn’t in her vocabulary, but her estimates wouldn’t be off.

  “Just look at me, obeying a rabbit. Should my old friends have seen this, I would be a laughing stock. My, how the world has changed. Before I would have barged into that company with my fangs bared in open threat, but these days I cannot simply solve problems like that.. can I?”

  Holo wasn’t so simple-minded as to think that violence would solve all problems. She knew that everything in the world was connected, and balance had to be maintained. Huge claws weren’t capable of controlling the world, only small and careful fingers were.

  Had she not traveled to the Winfield kingdom she might never have helped Hildir, but now the sight of Huskins fighting to save his home was fresh in her mind. His legend as the golden sheep was still spoken, but he had long since become a servant to the humans. And yet, he had still not given up.

  Holo’s complicated expression hinted that she was thinking of such things, but after another deep breath that expression vanished. She was still capable of growth.

  “I have no clue how much convincing it will take before I am handed the book, however.”

  She was asking Lawrence, making it clear that she was determined to complete this mission as best she could. That would be the last hurdle.

  ”I’ve already given my people in Lenos their marching orders for this eventuality.”

  “You thought ahead, did you?”

  With that there was nothing more to discuss, but Lawrence still felt compelled to add one last thing.

  “No one could walk straight with three hundred coins hanging on their ass.”

  Holo laughed, obviously picturing Lou with a scorched ass. Even Hildir found the joke funny enough to smile, which was precisely what Lawrence was hoping to see to ease the mood. He coughed and continued.

  “Then this will take five or six days total.”

  In a deteriorating situation like this, that might as well be an eternity. But the God above had made these lands wide, like the cruel being He was.

  “I cannot make it a promise.”

  “They should be in Kinisen about now.. we can only hope they’ll still have the book.”

  When he acted as a merchant, Lawrence would never intentionally comfort anyone. Not even Holo. They nodded in unison. A good handshake meant more than comfort when one bargained, and it was more easily forgotten if things went sour. Hildir spoke with such vigor that it was scarcely believable that the voice was coming from a small rabbit.

  “Please go as soon as possible.”

  Holo stretched.

  “Kid, you are really daring.”

  She aimed that last statement at Lawrence. She was hardly going to act like a cargo-hauling mule, but she still grabbed the sack of coins, some water and food, and walked away. The sky was so clear that Lawrence could see the bird high over their heads. It circled a few times before flying toward the east.

  Hildir was already gone. His company was in turmoil, so if he didn’t show up before long they might even kill him. These were probably the longest days of his life. It made Lawrence feel a bit proud that a simple traveling merchant like him could help someone like Hildir. Of course, Hildir never did outright ask them for help, precisely because Lawrence was just a traveling merchant.

  And here he was, getting involved in the conflict of a beast like Diva company. Him, just a mere peddler. A lonely, lonely peddler who walked back to his room at the inn and saw just how big it was. He lay there on his back, until he realized that only an hour had passed and he was already starting to miss Holo.

  Chapter 7

  When he woke up on the second day after that, Lawrence looked around for Holo instinctively. The moment he realized what he was doing his face turned red. He was doing exactly the same thing that endeared Holo to him. With the dead quietness of the room, all he could hear was the noise out on the street. He scratched his head and sighed, then wandered down to the patio and greeted the mercenaries.

  He washed his face and shaved while they chatted and exercised. It was a ritual he was used to for many years, but this was the first time he felt hollow while doing it. The reason was obvious: Holo. It had only been a couple of days but his morning ritual felt mechanical, like something was missing. He should have insisted on going to Yoitsu with Holo, rather than getting tied up in Lesco. His only saving grace was he was alone, so thinking about such embarrassing things wouldn’t earn him a reprimand.

  He emerged onto the street and did everything he could to exchange his silver coins for gold ones. It should have been at the usual rates set by Diva’s management, but everyone was speculating on the new currency now. Silver coins were beloved, and moneychangers were hoarding gold coins at unbelievable rates.

  Normally, this is when a guild would form in a town. Everyone knew what would happen if the priests stopped praying, the farmers stopped farming, and the soldiers stopped gambling just to start gambling like this. But this wasn’t a normal town, it was a free place full of hope.

  No one would stop the speculation. Indeed, Diva’s backers might even be spurring it on. If silver appreciated, they would earn more, and silver coins were just silver with certain images punched onto them that magically made them even more valuable. Even lead could be worth as much as gold was when minted as a coin.

  In the end Lawrence managed to get the gold coins he wanted from the money changers. Unlike silver, gold did not rust or dull; it always shone. Not a soul in Lawrence’s home town had ever seen a gold coin, and he was no different until he met and traveled with his master.

  Each time he saw a real gold coin he remembered why they were held in such lofty regard. They were heavy and shiny, like a concentrated form of prestige and worldly importance. Not even stamping an image onto gold coins mattered, they would always be just as respected even after their original creator died.

  Silver coins didn’t have that luxury. They weren’t carefully treasured, they were simply objects used for routine trading. The person stamped onto them mattered. That’s why Lawrence was surprised when he approached some mercenaries, who usually talked about nothing but the state of the land, and overheard them discussing the image that would be stamped onto the new currency.

  “Will it just be some baron?”

  The man talking had a striking scar around his eye.

  “Ya think so? Which one? Maybe all of ’em?”

  “Well.. I’m guessing maybe the head of Diva company?”

  At a glance they seemed crass, but these men were more knowledgeable than Lawrence had expected. That made sense in hindsight; they had visited many towns and seen many people. Of course they would have learned a bit about everything. A person with excellent eyes could instantly see anything, but even a normal person could make the effort to see just as much. So said Lawrence’s master.

  “Like the barons would let that happen. Besides, it’d be no fun for the person on the coin to always be hearing ‘who the heck’s this guy?”’

  “Then.. who else would it be?”<
br />
  “Who knows?”

  The men shrugged and put on a sly look.

  “What say you, Mr. merchant?”

  They brought Lawrence into their little game. They would know him by now, given how close he’d been to Myuri and Moid lately. Regardless, they still made Lawrence nervous. He replied like he was talking to wild animals.

  “They’re all about mining, so maybe something like digging equipment?”

  “Oh yeah! That might be it.”

  Mining companies didn’t bother with flags; they simply hung ironworks over their doors. They knew what was most important to those who visited them, and liked to make it clear what they were all about. A person’s image was usually only put on a coin when they were the chief baron supporting the minting. In a case like this, however, it might not even be a person’s image that wound up on the coins.

  “Seems a real pity to just plop something like a shovel on the coins.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “They’d lose their chance to get famous!”

  “You ass, the age where people want to be famous in such a cheap way’s over. There’s no point to that anymore!”

  “Ah, you might be right.”

  The men smiled rudely at one another like it meant nothing.

  “Then again, it’s not like they’d just agree on mining tools, either.”

  Lawrence had no idea what to say, but the men had moved on and lifted up the cards that had just been dealt. One of them immediately tossed his hand onto the table, and another tossed his on top of them. The rest all shouted “damn” in unison and tossed their own cards aside.

  “Damn it!”

  They griped as they flung their crude copper coins on the table. The man who’d won the hand then snatched them and spoke in a more relaxed tone.

  “Who’re ‘they?”’

  “Well ya know, mining villages like where I’m from. They turn into nothin’ but holes full of mud. They’d probably riot if someone had the nerve to put mining equipment on the coins.”

  The men who had lost the hand were all holding their cups out for more wine, but their hands dangled in the air when they heard that.

  “They’ll probably think that way too, and go for somethin’ that won’t cause no fights.”

  “Like what?”

  “Who knows? If I had to guess..”

  The man talking was supposed to be shuffling the cards, but instead he played with a coin on the table and continued.

  “..I’d say it’d be better to use a familiar baron. I like the ones with Duke Rikihodan of Coluba.. I wish people still used them coins.”

  That was a heroic name from many a famous story. He’d lost his status over time, and was eventually killed by the son he’d fathered with his mistress. Inevitably, all of his coins were collected and remade into new ones, and stiff penalties awaited those who still used the old ones. It was a typical way to keep people from using the coins of an enemy.

  “Right, like they’d pick an image that would cause so many problems.”

  An older mercenary spoke up and put things into perspective. Coins were coins, not tools to promote fame. It might even hinder the uptake of a new currency, since people trusted not the person on the coin, but the power they wielded. It took a lot of power to issue currency, so it made sense to use some symbol of authority.

  “And yet we’re the ones who’d prefer if there were problems, huh?”

  Yet another mercenary chimed in.

  “True, true.”

  Another round of coarse laughter rang out from the table before the men began discussing their favorite barons. Lawrence only knew some of those names, but he didn’t mind being in such a lively atmosphere. It was a happy conversation, nothing like the talks merchants usually shared. Who was good for what, who was more loved - these were simply not the topics merchants discussed. It was always who could earn them what, and who were the stingy ones to avoid. Money was the ultimate topic.

  Lawrence would have preferred these kinds of chats sometimes, since they really made things feel simpler. The world would be a better place if everyone could laugh things off like this. His mind began wandering as the topic shifted to personal relationships, and he wondered how people managed to get by with so many currencies in the north. It was just so inconvenient.. who would argue against convenience?

  No, Diva were doing the right thing in that regard, he felt. The powers that be had been trying to keep people under control for their own profit since time immemorial. All Lawrence could do was hope that Hildir managed to hold out until Holo returned. He left the table of mercenaries and began walking down the street again while losing himself in his thoughts. If everything could be reduced to terms of money, without things like fame or authority getting in the way, the world would be a better place.

  Even Diva was letting things get in their way because of some fussy barons. Why was everyone so stupid? Of course it would be better to not put a baron’s face on the money. The mercenaries might not agree, but what say did they have anyway? The image needed to be something beyond dispute, easily understood, and acceptable to everyone. It was a riddle that Lawrence had no answer for.

  Earlier, when he had eaten with Myuri and Moid, their conversation had been far more serious. They had spoken of things like Diva’s internal problems and their own plans to move on to Yoitsu. Yet even in that atmosphere Lawrence had been considering this problem. It was partly out of sheer curiosity, but the real reason was that he was trying to avoid feeling lonely.

  Still, when he returned to his room he was alone. There was nothing better for him to do than go to bed. He couldn’t help Hildir, and he had no work to attend to. He was practically useless, and if he dwelled on that it wouldn’t make him feel any better. He was lonely. He was a merchant, who could only exist in a world with buyers and sellers. Why talk when there wasn’t anyone who would reply? It only made one feel even more isolated and small.

  Even Holo had grown tired of that feeling and left the wheat fields she had tended to for centuries. It would have driven him mad to be put in her place in such a quiet and lonely field. She sure was amazing. If all went well, at least he would only have to wait one or two more nights for her.. maybe three. And even if things didn’t go smoothly, Hildir’s avian friend should report that to them soon. Of course, Lawrence was hoping for things to go smoothly this time. Surely they were due for one event where things went smoothly.

  He wasn’t fussing anymore, and just wanted to solve the problem in front of them so he could move on without regrets. He’d manage to start taking care of his own future, in his own shop with Holo and other assistants to help him. Even the successor he was grooming to replace him. Wait, why did they have ears and a tail like a wolf? That wasn’t good, the Lenos guards were already knocking to come cut them off. With scissors, no less.

  Oh great, now he had to get Norah to sew them back on. Holo was going to be so angry about this! Maybe it would be better to get Eve to help him out? No, that was even worse. Aw, jeez.. Holo was already pounding her fists on the table. He had no choice but to do it himself. How could he possibly thread such a delicate needle himself? The thread kept slipping past the eye. Wait a minute.. was he dreaming? He opened his eyes, and realized that it was pitch black around him. That knocking.. that wasn’t Holo at all. Someone was at the door!

  “Coming!”

  The knocking stopped the moment he shouted out. Who was it? The door opened before he could decide.

  “Mr. Lawrence.”

  A certain voice of experience flooded the room along with candlelight. Moid had come, along with one of his young attendants. With the candle’s flames dancing under Moid’s face, Lawrence could see just how grim his expression was.

  “My apologies.. I fell asleep.. what’s going on?”

  Lawrence followed them downstairs, marvelling at the fact that he’d fallen asleep without even taking off his coat. He was fumbling with his buttons and trying to tidy his sleeves, but Moid�
��s voice snapped him back to reality before he could finish that ritual.

  “There are soldiers everywhere.”

  “What?”

  Moid’s eyes didn’t flinch at all. He kept talking like this was an everyday thing to him, as common as tying his shoelaces.

  “Diva decided to fight. They’ve already given the order.”

  Lawrence felt his body winking into the darkness around them. He knew exactly what that meant. Hildir had lost before they even got the book to him.

  “It seems we’re leaving town even sooner than we planned: tonight.”

  The dead quietness of the inn was eerie; the only sounds he heard were people shuffling around downstairs preparing to leave.

  “What about you, Mr. Lawrence?”

  Lawrence hesitated at the question. If the mercenaries left town, they were obviously not with Diva. Not only would they be treated as enemies, but having been taken care of for so long would practically ensure they would be viewed as spies. Lawrence would be doomed; he had no training to deal with this. He couldn’t slip through under some assumed name like a real spy. Worse, no one in town would dare question Diva’s word, and Lawrence had a deal with Hildir.

  It was likely the banned book was utterly useless now, and that staying here was even worse than trying to escape. If the book was Hildir’s last hope, and he was working so hard for something that might prove useless, then Hildir was trapped. Lawrence too, since he was in on everything. He had agreed to help Hildir for what was essentially his own gain, and as such he was jointly responsible.

  “I have to talk to someone first.”

  “Talk?”

  Moid was taken aback at first, but quickly realized Lawrence meant Hildir. Unfortunately, finding Hildir wouldn’t be easy right now, so Moid was stumped.

  “The whole town’s a mess because of this, since they made the order at night. Clearly someone in that company knows a thing or two about wars, since anyone wanting to leave town at night can’t do that anymore, so we’ll have to help them in the morning. It’s a brilliant move.”

  For someone like him to call their move brilliant made it clear how much trouble their rivals were in right now. Painfully clear. Lawrence was already worried about whether Hildir was even alive or not.