Wolf & Parchment, Volume 2

by Isuna Hasekura

  The roofs on the buildings were large and steeply slanted, perhaps to keep the snow from building up. They were built closely together, resembling a group of people huddling low after being blown together by the wind.

  Caeson, the port on the main island, was certainly quite large and packed with both people and ships, but perhaps it seemed that way because Col and Myuri had grown so used to the lonely sights since leaving Atiph. If they bothered to stop and spend the time, they would have easily been able to count the buildings and people they saw up until then.

  And yet, Col was relieved to see people chatting and laughing by the snowy roadside. The bustle and warmth of many people was present. On the corner, there was a large snow sculpture, its hands and face made out of sticks.

  “Is that the church? Thank you.”

  He asked directions from a passerby, who pointed upstream of the river that flowed through the port. It was rather wide and deep. As no bridge had been built, the townspeople used ferries to get from one bank to another.

  Perhaps that was why there were not many people on the streets along the river, and even snow that had been marked with footprints was still piled rather high. He looked at the river that flowed from its mouth up on the mountain, thinking it looked like a rip, as though someone had tried to tear the island itself in half.

  “Come, Myuri, let’s go.”

  He pulled his scarf up to his mouth and held Myuri’s hand as they made their way toward the church in town.

  “Is that where the guy making the dolls is?”

  “They are not dolls. They’re figures of the Holy Mother.”

  “And that’s different?”

  It would be difficult to explain the significance to someone without faith, so he could only groan.

  “And we’re not going to the monastery?”

  “We’ll be staying at the church. The monastery is different. By the way, as we were nearing the port, the monastery was visible from the ship. Did you see it? There should have been a smaller island a short distance away, and I believe it is located there.”

  “What? Oh, uh, I think I saw something like a small shrine, but…Wait, someone lives there?”

  Sharp-sighted Myuri had indeed found it. They probably passed it when he was putting warmer clothes on her while she stared out at the passing scenery.

  Then her eyes suddenly began to sparkle.

  “No way, someone actually lives in a place like that? Seriously?”

  Her nose, bright red from the cold, was twitching, as though she had caught the whiff of adventure.

  “Is it really that exciting?”

  “Definitely. The waves were crashing up against it, and there were huge rocks all over the place. It was really cool! I was sure it was an altar for sacrificing goats, but…Mhmm. It definitely looks like a house for a sorcerer who controls lightning and walks on the sea.”

  In the decades of war between the Church and the pagans, the Church tried to eradicate the kind of faith where people worshipped those very sorcerers. After the war, there were few who still held on to such beliefs, but those legendary figures still remained alive in people’s minds as the subject of adventure tales and in writing.

  Though they were often depicted as evil people who needed to be subdued, anything was fine for Myuri as long as it excited her.

  “Oh man, I can’t wait. I bet there are stairs leading down to underground mazes and doors we should never, ever open!”

  There was certainly a big misunderstanding occurring somewhere, but Col did not know where to start.

  “Oh, Brother, what should we do if there’s a dragon down in the labyrinth? Should we get Mother?”

  To Myuri, the line between dreams and reality was fuzzy. She really looked like she was enjoying herself. The problem was that her mother was indeed a kind of spirit, one that normally lived deep in the shadows of the woods.

  But still, in order to make sure that such a young, easily influenced girl would not grow up oddly, he had to draw the proper lines and teach her the proper ways of the world.

  Though he was cowardly and weak in many things, Col could still teach certainty in a world full of uncertainties. He had, at the very least, studied hard every day to know what was right.

  The two of them continued on and eventually came to a large portcullis. He could tell it was a church because he could see, on the other side of the stone wall, the crest of the Church fluttering in the wind. But if he had to describe what he saw, he would have called it a fortress.

  “Wow…”

  The portcullis was currently raised and was fashioned from thick wood—a sword or ax in the hands of a human would not make so much as a mark on it. It appeared to have been designed with war in mind, an impression that was only reinforced by the length of the path extending from the portcullis and how thick the stone walls were. On top of that, there were unique-looking holes looking down through the ceiling above the path, and Col could see that they were charred. They were holes meant for pouring boiling oil onto attackers to force a retreat.

  “The…church?” Myuri asked.

  Even she was dumbfounded by how imposing it seemed.

  “Even Mr. Yosef said so—it is likely a sanctuary.”

  “Huh…You mean, like there’s important treasure inside?”

  The optimistic Myuri’s eyes were sparkling, but that was not it.

  “No. I am talking about rules of the adult world.”

  While she stared up at him blankly, Col pulled on the cord that was dangling by the gate, which rang a little bell. Before long, a door on one side of the path opened, and a soldier holding a spear appeared. He wore hard leather rather than metal armor because the latter would have stuck to his skin.

  “Oh, a traveler boy, ’ey?”

  He had the same reaction as Yosef, but he did not seem surprised because traveling clergymen often came to borderlands.

  “An introduction from Sir Yosef of the Debau Company.”

  Col presented the letter and the piece of wood, just in case.

  “I don’t need that.”

  The soldier did not take the piece of wood, which meant this really was a unique place.

  “Under the orders of a noble, you have traveled through Atiph to the distant northern seas to survey…I see. You’ve come far.”

  The soldier shrugged his shoulders, neatly folded the letter, and returned it to Col.

  “If at all possible, we would like to stay here while we are in the area.”

  “Of course, I don’t mind. That’s what it’s here for. A guest of the Debau Company is a guest of ours.”

  The soldier walked off, his body language inviting them to follow.

  “Let me just say this now, but missionary work is forbidden in town. The folks here follow God’s teachings, but it’s a bit different from how southerners see it. Are you aware of that?”

  “The Black-Mother, you mean?”

  The soldier nodded, relieved.

  “Also, I’ve heard there’s been religious riots down in Atiph. The people here are sensitive about tension with the Church. Don’t let anything funny happen.”

  It appeared that the effects had already rippled this far.

  They soon passed through the walls, exiting into a rather spacious courtyard. With one glance, Col could tell why straightaway. Crates and trunks wrapped in straw were stacked here and there, all of them under the banners of large, familiar commercial firms. There was of course the Debau Company, as well as that of the Ruvik Alliance, which once owned more ships than any king, lauded as the strongest at sea the world over. This was a place without any greater authority to rely on, a shared base maintained by the merchants from large companies engaging in long-distance trade and a sanctuary to which they could escape to if something happened.

  Though the Church would have typically taken similar measures in pagan land where its authority did not extend to, this place also fell under that umbrella.

  At that very moment, there were a m
ultitude of merchants all around, accounting for cargo and maintaining their draft horses. Myuri was looking around, entranced by everything, but the soldier pointed at her and looked at Col with inquiring eyes.

  “And one important thing. This is a church, after all, and a small one. Women are seeds of trouble. Wives that come with their husbands and maidservants all sleep in special accommodations. The same goes for slaves.”

  It was not odd for the slave trade to be present in economically depressed areas. From the disgusted look directed his way, Col could tell that soldier may have thought he was a softhearted priest who had come to take home a slave girl who he had found in the south.

  But whatever the truth may be, what he needed to think about first was that he could not leave Myuri alone in this place where they had no one else to rely on. One of the few rules he gleaned from traveling in the past was to always keep valuables within reach.

  However, there was no doubt that Myuri was a girl, and no matter how convenient it was, this was still a place of rest for the lambs of God who wore the crest of the Church around their necks. Col, who was striving to become one of those servants himself, could not bring himself to lie.

  As he stood speechless, Myuri removed her hood and scarf and revealed her long silver hair in the snow.

  “There are lots of perks to dressing like a girl,” she said and grinned.

  The soldier studied her as she did so, and he suddenly bared his left canine.

  “Clever kid. You’re gonna make something of yourself one day.”

  “Heh-heh, thanks.”

  She smiled freely, her expression calm.

  “There should be someone in the biggest building there. You can ask them your other questions.”

  Long ago, Col had once stayed on the grounds of a grand monastery. What they saw now had a very similar feel to it.

  A big church building stood in the center, and starting from the south there was the courtyard, vegetable garden, stables, then dining hall and such all surrounding it, as well as residence halls for guests.

  Since it was a base for merchants, the courtyard was bigger than that of the monastery, as were the places to eat and sleep. The stables were not as spacious, however, since this area relied mostly on ships for transport.

  “I see. Thank you very much.”

  “Not at all.”

  Before the soldier returned to his post, he showed how he had grown to like Myuri by bumping fists with her.

  “How was that, Brother?”

  He had just witnessed a moment of the tomboyish Myuri gaining a strange sense of confidence again.

  “Honestly, you spout lies so easily.”

  “What? But I didn’t lie.”

  It was certainly true that she had not told a lie. Her words were simply the truth. It was the soldier who had misunderstood, and Col himself had used that technique several times before.

  But there was a clear difference between the two of them. Myuri was using it to enter a place she was not allowed. He could not come to terms with his conscience as to whether or not he should overlook it.

  His reproach and confusion must have been visible on his face because his companion wore an offended expression.

  “But, Brother, if you really thought it was that bad, then you would have confessed the truth then and there.”

  “…”

  “You didn’t because it was convenient for you, right?”

  It was true, so he could not utter a sound.

  “Then, it’s fine. It wasn’t my pure and righteous brother that lied anyhow,” Myuri said, her words sounding like satire, and she hugged his arm.

  Nothing frightened a girl who did not believe in God at all.

  “My faith feels like it’s about to waver.”

  “You can give up whenever you like, you know. Then we can get married.”

  “…”

  It seemed this was her trap. She had just chased him and he fell for it. His only response was to stare at her with tired eyes. It was like she was grinning down at him from the lip of the hole.

  He sighed; then knowing he could not continue like this, he spoke.

  “Act properly next time.”

  Myuri shrugged as though placating him.

  Then, as the soldier had suggested, he opened the door to the big building, white smoke puffing from its chimney.

  The hallway extended straight ahead of them and seemed even colder, made of stone, but there appeared to be an open hall just to their left. He could hear merry voices coming from beyond the door standing ajar.

  “It seems like a good, lively place…What’s wrong?”

  Myuri had her nose shoved into the open part of the doorway.

  “It smells…weird…,” she said, and he sniffed the air.

  “Ah, that’s the smell of peat.”

  “Peet?”

  “Do you remember the story about what jet is? It’s like muddy coal. They gather it in fields and grasslands. It’s cheap, but it’s flawed in that it does not burn well and has a peculiar smell. You may be able to find it on this island as well.”

  Myuri had a good sense of smell due to the blood of wolves flowing through her. Perhaps that was the reason.

  “If it’s too much, we can arrange other accommodations for you.”

  Even in Nyohhira, there were quite a number of people who left the mountain because they could not stand the smell of sulfur. While some residents were used to it and it did not bother them at all, there were others who could not stand it.

  That was what he had in mind when he made his offer, but Myuri, pinching her nose closed, glared at him for some reason.

  “Wh-what’s wrong?”

  “That’s how you’re going to keep me from traveling with you, isn’t it?”

  It seemed she was now on guard, since he often scolded her, asking if she wanted to quit traveling whenever she overslept, overate, or said something selfish.

  “I am just being considerate.”

  “…Hmph.”

  Though she did not say outright, Brother, you idiot, she did look away in a huff with a frown on her face.

  “More importantly, let’s quickly secure our room and go investigate.”

  He had not come this far to babysit or relax. The commotion in Atiph had created such big ripples that it could be felt this far out into the sea, and its effects would grow bigger yet with time. He needed to wrap up here in the northern islands as soon as possible, then head to the next job.

  Myuri was still grimacing from the odor of the peat, but as they crept in through the door, a person approached from the hall.

  “Oh!”

  His voice was rather pleasant, perhaps because it reflected his personality, but it was more likely because they were wearing similar clothes.

  “We don’t get your sorts much this time of year—travelers?”

  It was an elderly priest, the crest of the Church hanging from his neck. His cheeks were red not from the cold but probably from alcohol.

  Setting that aside for now, Col gave him a visitor’s bow.

  “Pardon us. I am Tote Col. I have come to this land under the orders of a certain noble. Further details are in this introduction from Sir Yosef of the Debau Company.”

  “Oh-ho.”

  The priest blinked in surprise before walking over and taking the letter. His hands were soft and warm, though there was most certainly alcohol on his breath.

  “I see, I see. I am the master of this church, Reicher Freedhoff. This means you must have come in search of land suitable for a monastery. Oh, no need to explain anything. Those sorts of people always come. For some reason, southerners have the misconception that this is heaven’s front gate.”

  In addition to being drunk, it seemed he was typically like this. He plainly spoke of things that were not often said aloud, wearing the smile of a pleasant old man. Then he gave a troubled sigh that smelled heavily of liquor.

  “Good or bad, this is just the edge of a cold sea. If y
ou search too hard, you’ll only find danger. Especially during this season, there’ll be no help if you fall into the water, and there are the pre-spring storms. Occasionally, people like you obsessively investigate islands no one else goes near, and what a commotion it makes.”

  Reicher hiccupped and shrugged his shoulders.

  “Do you mean a spiritual commotion?”

  As Col probed, he noticed a strong light in the man’s eyes, fitting for a priest who ran a place ringed by the stone walls of a fortress.

  “Are you inquisitors?”

  Had they both been knights or mercenaries, this would have been the moment they each put their hands on their swords.

  However, after Reicher studied him, his gaze finally dropped to what was latched onto Col’s back.

  Col answered slowly as the priest looked at Myuri.

  “If I were, then I think I would choose more carefully what I bring along.”

  Inquisitors, often called executioners or torturers for good reason, would not walk around with a young child in tow.

  “So it would appear. Or if you two actually were, then it looks like the Church is managing to get away with keeping the people here and there in good faith.”

  Then the priest suddenly sneezed.

  This man must have had some sort of reason why he occupied a place of worship in such a remote area, one where the Church had no official presence at that. It did not seem to be because he was a faithful servant to the Church.

  “It’s cold here. Why don’t you come in…? Ah, we need to take care of your luggage first.”

  “And we would like to borrow a room, as well.”

  Reicher smacked his forehead and smiled.

  “Oh, oh right. You can’t relax if you drink still wearing your traveling clothes.”

  He laughed, but then under the deep wrinkles of his eyelids, he shot a glance with a surprisingly alert glint at Myuri.

  “By the way, I’m sure you’ve heard the rules of the church from the guard at the gate, am I right?”

  “We did. He said girls stay in a separate room.”

  Myuri stared back at Reicher, grinning while she spoke. It was rather courageous of her, or perhaps insolent. Reicher stared blankly at her, but after blinking sleepily, he sneezed again.