Spice and Wolf - Volume 2 - Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

There was no need for elaborate tricks. First, Lawrence explained the objective.

Unsurprisingly, Remelio’s eyes became wide. “You don’t mean—,” he said.

“I mean exactly that,” said Lawrence, but soon the common sense he would expect from a merchant running a trading company in Ruvinheigen showed on Remelio’s face. It turned scornful as the master sat in a chair.

“I understand that your debt is a difficult one to repay, but I can’t have you making such ridiculous chatter.”

He began to stand, as if unwilling to waste any more time, when Lawrence stopped him.

“I’m sure there have been those who tried to smuggle gold this way before and were caught.”

“Well, if you understand that, this will go quickly. It’s easy for someone on the brink of ruin to mistake a reckless plan for a perfect one.”

It occurred to Lawrence that this statement was half aimed at Remelio himself, but he continued undaunted.

“What if you could entrust it to someone especially talented at smuggling?”

Remelio looked at Lawrence gravely and sat back down. “What you propose is not possible. Someone so skilled as to be able to smuggle gold in would already be making plenty of money on his own. He wouldn’t cooperate. If you plan to bring in someone from outside, you might as well give up now. There’s no end to gold-smuggling plots like this, so inspections of anybody not registered with the city are especially thorough.”

Remelio’s objections were exactly the arguments Lawrence had been expecting.

“What if there were someone who was highly skilled but not making good money?”

“If he is so skilled, finding work in this city is not difficult. There’s already a shortage of labor.”

Remelio sat and waited for Lawrence’s reply.

His expression was faintly reminiscent of Holo’s the previous night.

He’d given his objection and waited for Lawrence’s counter-objection. He wanted to give up but couldn’t.

Lawrence took a deep breath.

“What if this skilled person had only ill-paying work in the city and a need for money? More importantly, what if this person’s current employer left something to be desired? I’m referring to the Church. Importing gold flies directly in the face of the Church. We’ll offer not only the opportunity for profit, but to exact some small revenge against the Church—it will be irresistible and the probability of betrayal very low, owing to a fair distaste for the employer.”

“Th-that’s far too convenient a tale.”

“That’s when business is most profitable. Am I wrong?”

Procuring produce when the crop has been bad, buying fashions that go out of style only to find them booming in another city—the biggest profits are realized from the most improbable coincidences.

Remelio’s face twisted.

He wanted to believe but couldn’t quite manage it.

“If I tell you this person’s name, I think you will be able to accept it.”

“I-in that case, why would you go to the trouble of coming to me and having another party demanding a share?”

Having established smuggling as the topic, Lawrence proceeded to this tangential problem, setting aside issues of possibility or impossibility.

“There are two reasons. The first is that the debt I owe this company comes due today, and at sundown I will surely be taken into custody in lieu of payment. The second is that this is all the coin I have on hand.”

Lawrence produced the coin purse, untied its drawstring, and emptied its contents onto the table.

It was a mixture of silver and copper coins totaling three lu-mione.

The coins glittered in Remelio’s eyes—Remelio, who faced bankruptcy, just as Lawrence did.

“It’s three lumione. If you want to know how I raised it, just ask around among the merchant houses; you’ll soon find out.”

Hearing this, Remelio took a deep breath.

Given the situation, he surely knew how Lawrence had collected the money.

“This is truly everything I have. I want you to take it as collateral and trust what I am saying.”

Lawrence leaned forward and looked straight into Remelio’s eyes.

“I also want you to suspend the repayment of my debt and for your company to finance the purchase of gold for us to smuggle.”

Remelio’s haggard face was covered in a cold sweat, wrinkles gathering at his chin.

The only reason he didn’t deny Lawrence and Holo on the spot was that he had just enough funds to finance the plan.

—And just enough hope to want to believe them.

All it would take was one more push, but if Lawrence pushed too hard, it would only make Remelio more doubtful.

Gold smuggling could yield enormous profit, but it came with terrible risk. And given the current condition of the Remelio Company, the deal to finance the smuggling could itself be seen as fraud.

There were plenty of people willing to destroy a struggling company in order to make a quick profit, so these doubts were hardly strange.

Lawrence had to choose his words carefully.

But before he could—

“Listen, you,” said Holo.

Surprised, Remelio looked at Holo, blinking, as if only just now realizing that there was somebody else.

Lawrence, too, turned to Holo. Holo herself regarded the floor.

“Do you think you have the luxury of wavering?”

“Wha—” Remelio was tongue-tied at the provocative, threatening question.

Thinking this an unwise approach, Lawrence was about to stop her. However—

“Another person left just now. Can you keep dillydallying like this?”

Transfixed by Holo’s sharp look, Remelio froze, as if he had swallowed a stone. “E-er…”

“I’ve excellent hearing. Shall I tell you about your workers and their plans being hatched downstairs right now? Their plans to escape while they can?”

“Uh—”

“Whoops, there goes another one. At this rate the shop will be—”

“Stop!” cried Remelio, clutching his head.

Holo regarded the man, her expression entirely unperturbed.

Lawrence half agreed with her. A company was like a boat. If there is a hole in the hull and no hope of patching it, the crew ignored the captain and abandoned ship.

But it was clear enough that Holo had chosen that line of attack for a reason. She knew better than anyone the meaning of the word loneliness.

She certainly understood Remelio’s distress.

“Mr. Remelio,” began Lawrence mildly, having understood Holo’s angle. “I propose that you take these three lumione—everything I have—as a deposit and invest in gold. We know someone who will make the smuggling possible. If this person is paid well enough, trustworthiness is assured. And given your company, I’m sure you have a means to move the smuggled gold. What say you? If you’ll postpone my loan and give me a fair portion, I want to conduct this operation with no unfavorable conditions placed on you.”

A moment passed.

“What say you?”

Remelio looked down, head in hands.

Lawrence’s words, more seductive than wine, were surely filtering through the man’s mind now. He still hadn’t looked back up.

Time silently passed.

It was quiet, as if the entire company was focused on Remelio’s decision.

Just as Lawrence began to say, “Mr. Remelio,” the master finally spoke.

“All right.” He lifted his head, his face exhausted, a flame burning in his eyes. “Let’s do it.”

Lawrence stood up without thinking and extended his hand.

The two men, both of whom faced bankruptcy, shook.

“May God forgive us.”

After settling the arrangements regarding roles and compensation with the Remelio Company, Lawrence and Holo found themselves in front of a smallish church in the eastern part of Ruvinheigen. The level of ornamentation, the size of the bells, and so on were decided based on the chapel’s standing within the Church’s organization—the reasoning being that the higher the abbey, the closer to God it was.

The church Lawrence and Holo visited was in the bottom middle of that hierarchy. Its adornment was not at all poor, but for Ruvinheigen, the church was rather subdued.

It was just after noontime, and the midday service was in progress within the parish.

“Now, then,” said Holo abruptly, sitting on the stone steps as a hymn praising the holy mother wafted out of the chapel. “Think you can really pull one over on the girl?”

“Such things you say.”

“Am I wrong, then?” asked Holo, amused.

Lawrence made a stern face and stared straight ahead as he answered. “You don’t change.”

He and Holo waited at the entrance of this house of worship because they had business with Norah the shepherdess. They did not know which church in particular she was affiliated with, but there weren’t many that housed a female shepherd. Their search had been quick.

And having gone to all the trouble of searching, they weren’t here to make idle gossip.

They had come to ask her to play a crucial role in the gold-smuggling operation—the carrier.

However, Norah was not facing financial ruin the way that Lawrence and the Remelio Company were. Still, proposing the gold-smuggling plan would certainly involve deception because they would need to make the profit that would come in with the plan’s success seem equal to the danger.

Any who smuggled gold bet their life on it—and nothing could compensate for loss of life. Yes, some fudging of the details would be necessary.

Yet both Norah’s skill as a shepherdess and her standing in the city were indispensable to their scheme.

And the merchant had faith that she would be their accomplice.

Lawrence felt a pang of conscience at treating someone’s heart as a commodity in the marketplace. If Norah had been a merchant, he would have no such compunctions, but she was an innocent shepherdess. Nonetheless, the fact was not lost on Lawrence’s keen merchant insight.

In addition to being a shepherd—and thus already regarded as vaguely heretical—she was a woman, which made her all the more likely to be a tool of demons. It was simple to conclude that the Church was not sheltering her out of some sense of charity, but rather to keep an eye on her. That was probably the root of her unease, which he had picked up on when talking to her about the shepherding work she did for the Church.

Also, though Norah had expressed her desire to save up enough money to become a dressmaker, it was not in the girl’s personality to be avaricious—and the extra income afforded by doing escort work did not give her that luxury. He could understand if she didn’t want to be exposed to a rather harsh work environment.

Toiling the day away doing the difficult work of a shepherd, yet never quite making ends meet—it would make it impossible to greet the morning with any joy. The future would stretch out endlessly ahead, holding only bitterness and suffering.

In contrast to that, Lawrence would propose the gold-smuggling stratagem to her: Rather than scraping tiny amounts of money together, she would make enough in one fell swoop to not only pay her guild membership dues, but also to end any worries about making ends meet. Sure, there was danger, but how could she let this opportunity pass? This was how he would persuade her.

Lawrence would hardly force her, so in that sense he wasn’t doing anything wrong, but he still had misgivings about using her adverse circumstances in this fashion.

Nonetheless, it had to be Norah.

The fact that she was a skilled shepherdess who could lead her small flock through wolf-infested areas, where few humans ventured; the fact that she was unsatisfied with her employer, the Church; the fact that she needed money to fulfill her dream—it truly seemed like every condition was divinely arranged specifically to help Lawrence succeed in smuggling gold into Ruvinheigen. It was impossible to imagine anyone better positioned to help them.

Yet Lawrence heaved a sigh. Convincing her still weighed on him.

While he was absorbed in thinking about it, Lawrence grew conscious of Holo’s eyes on him. He looked over and saw her grinning at him resignedly.

“You really are just too softhearted by half.”

It was what she had said yesterday. It was true that Lawrence was quite sentimental for a merchant. There were plenty of merchants who would happily bring misfortune to their families if it meant making money in the process.

“Still, though,” said Holo, standing and looking out over the ever-lively city street. “It’s thanks to that softheartedness that I’ve been able to travel so easily,” she announced casually, descending a couple of the stone steps to stand next to Lawrence. “I suppose I’ll have to talk her into it. I need to be of some use, after all.”

She gave a thin smile, but her words lacked a certain spark, Lawrence thought.

He studied her and sure enough, her eyes were downcast. Maybe it was because he and Holo were close to the boisterous, busy lane, but she seemed smaller than usual.

“What, are you still thinking about yesterday?” he asked.

Holo shook her head but said nothing. It was an easy lie to see through.

“There’s no telling what would’ve happened back there if you hadn’t leaned on Remelio. I’d say you were plenty useful.”

Holo nodded; perhaps she accepted the truth of the statement, but her face remained crestfallen.

Lawrence patted her head lightly. “I’ll talk to her myself. It was my eyes that were blinded by greed and got us into this mess, after all. It’d be absurd to make you do all the talking because of my reluctance.”

Though he was half trying to cheer up Holo and half being self-derisive, everything he said was certainly true.

“And anyway, if I let you help me too much, there’s no telling how much I’ll be taken advantage of later,” he said with a shrug.

After a moment, Holo looked up and smiled with a soft sigh. “And here I was thinking I’d be able to call in some favors later.”

“I certainly avoided quite a trap there,” joked Lawrence.

Holo casually put her arm to her forehead. “Indeed, you did, but you’re backing into a still larger trap. I don’t hunt a rabbit caught in a trap. ’Twould be too feeble.”

“Do you know the sort of wolf snare that uses a trapped rabbit as bait?”

“Make sure not to cower at the wolf howls when you set the trap. You’ll foul the snare else.”

It was the empty banter of familiarity.

Lawrence shook his head at the ridiculousness of it. Holo couldn’t contain herself anymore and started laughing.

“Anyway, merchants are like sabers—they’re no good if they’re not straight. They break otherwise,” said Lawrence mostly to himself, and then he cast his eyes to the sky, as if searching for the sound of the bells.

It was a beautiful blue sky with a scattering of clouds. He shifted his gaze to the east and spied a few more white clouds.

It was a fine day—and fine weather meant good business.

As Lawrence considered that, he heard a quiet knocking sound behind him—the chapel doors were opening. Lawrence and Holo backed away to the sides of the stone steps. Soon the congregation began to filter out of the church, their faces full of post-prayer serenity as they descended the steps. The crowd divided into smaller groups as they dispersed to finish the day’s work—a scene that repeated itself daily.

At length, the exodus subsided.

There was once a time when it was groundlessly believed that the longer one remained in the church, the deeper one’s faith—until priests started becoming angry with anyone who lingered in the chapel. Now such things did not happen.

That said, it was not good to leave a church too quickly, lest it seem like one is trying to escape.

As a result, butchers, tanners, and other craftsmen likely to attract the Church’s baleful attention tended to leave the sanctuary more slowly.

As shepherds were counted among those suspicious professions, the shepherdess was last to leave. Her downcast eyes and reserved posture were no doubt due to the fact that the church was not a place of rest for her.

“Good day,” declared Lawrence as he stopped in front of Norah, smiling as pleasantly as he could manage. A good smile was an important part of negotiation.

“Er, L-Lawrence and…Holo, yes?” said Norah, reddening slightly and looking over at Holo, then back to Lawrence.

“It is clear that us happening to meet in front of a church is the will of God,” said Lawrence with a slightly grandiose gesture. Norah seemed to notice something and giggled in amusement.

“I won’t be fooled, Mr. Lawrence.”

“And thank heavens for that. I have heard that lately there are those at services who have drunk a bit too much of the holy blood.”

Lawrence was referring to wine. Were she drunk, he might be able to convince her to join him, but she might also lose her nerve or turn him down. He was glad for her sobriety.

“I cannot drink much wine, so I mostly avoid it,” she said with a shy smile, then looked around nervously. Perhaps she had been contacted with an offer of escort work.

Lawrence did not hesitate to use that expectation. “Actually, I am here about some work for you.”

Norah’s face lit up so quickly you could nearly hear it.

“This place being what it is, perhaps we should away to a stall somewhere…”

The reason Lawrence didn’t suggest a bar was because nothing would be more conspicuous given the hour. Secret negotiations were best conducted in busy public spaces.

Norah nodded agreeably. Lawrence began walking with Holo at his right side and Norah to his left, trailing behind him slightly.

The three strolled along the busy, boisterous lane until they passed through the crowds and arrived at the plaza.

The plaza was as loud and festive as ever, but fortune smiled on them as the trio found a table at a beer stall where Lawrence ordered beer for the lot of them. Ale was cheaper, but as Norah was with them, he couldn’t very well order any.

The service was quick but rough as the three cups arrived; Lawrence paid a pittance in silver for them, then put his hand to his mug.

“Here’s to our reunion.”

The tankards clacked together noisily.

“So, Norah, did you say you were able to go as far as Lamtra?”

Taken off guard by the sudden broaching of the subject of work, Norah, who hadn’t touched her beer, eyed Lawrence guardedly. Holo watched the two, nursing her drink.

“Y-yes, I can go that far.”

“Even bring your flock?”

“As long as it’s not too large.”

She answered so directly that Lawrence wondered how many times she had crossed the fields and forests on the way to Lamtra.

But just to be sure, Lawrence glanced to Holo to check the truth of the statement. Holo nodded so imperceptibly that only Lawrence could tell.

Evidently Norah was not lying.

Lawrence took a deep breath to avoid arousing Norah’s suspicion. Being excessively roundabout might damage her resolve. Better to plunge straight in.

“I want to hire you for a certain job. Compensation will be twenty lumione. Not in a cheap banknote, of course—it will be hard coin.”

Norah looked at him blankly, as though he were speaking in a foreign tongue. In fact, it took time for the words to penetrate her mind—it was as if they had been written down in some faraway land and sent to her.

To some people, twenty lumione was that much money.

“However, there is risk, and the compensation is only if we succeed. Failure earns us nothing.”

Looking at someone’s finger as it traced circles or x marks on a table was one way of telling if he or she was real and not a dream or hallucination.

Norah followed the movements of Lawrence’s finger, and it seemed that he was quite real.

Yet still she had trouble believing, it seemed.

“The job will be moving sheep—then moving them back again as safely as possible. That will be all we need of your services as a shepherd.”

Norah finally seemed to wrap her head around Lawrence’s proposal, and realizing that the work and the compensation he had offered were far from comparable, she began to voice her skepticism. Lawrence seemed to have been waiting for that and cut her off.

“However, the work itself involves significant danger—proportional to the risk.”

Having explained the unimaginable profit, he now explained the risk. Both could inspire shock, but the first detail would leave a stronger impression.

“Nevertheless, the pay is twenty lumione. Even the highest guild dues are but a single lumione. You could rent a house and take care of your daily expenses, working without worry. With that much, you could easily buy your own business. You would be the mistress of Norah Dressmakers.”

Norah’s face was troubled and then on the verge of tears. The enormity of the amount of money seemed to be sinking in—and with it, undoubtedly, the concern over the danger.

She had taken the bait. Now the real challenge began. If he muddled his statements at all, she would clamp a shell around her like a clam.

“Oh, that’s right—had you planned to join the tailors guild in this city, Norah?”

She was waiting, prepared, to hear the bad news, but Lawrence seemed to have thrown her off the trail. Inside her head, Lawrence knew thoughts raced of both the ridiculous amount of money and the fact that she had not yet heard the risk. There wasn’t much room to ponder extraneous things, so her answer should be quite honest, Lawrence thought.

“N-no, I was thinking a different town.”

“I see! Do you not like the sprawling size of this city compared with others? It can be quite hard to live in an unfamiliar city with no friends, I find.”

While her mind was occupied with other matters, she couldn’t easily voice her thoughts—such was the plan.

Norah nodded, looking troubled, saying nothing.

That was enough for Lawrence, whose merchant intuition told him a person’s heart based on the expression on their face.

The shepherdess’s mind was like glass to him.

“Well, I suppose you’ll want to get away from this city and its churches, won’t you?”

The trap was set.

Holo gave Lawrence an obvious look, but the result was instantaneous.

“N-no, I mean, not at all…Well, but…”

“The harder you work for them, the better you protect the sheep they’ve entrusted you, the more they’ll suspect you of witchcraft. Am I wrong?”

She froze, her head moving neither up nor down, left nor right—Lawrence was spot on the mark.

“And as they try to expose you, you’ll have to venture where other shepherds would never go—because the alternatives are already taken by those selfsame shepherds, you said.”

That instant, Norah’s eyes snapped wide open, and she looked at Lawrence. Perhaps it was something she had vaguely considered before, since even if other shepherds had their territories, if she was willing to travel far enough, there would be safe places that remained.

“The priests will keep pushing you farther away until you’re attacked by wolves or maybe mercenaries. And every day you’re not, they’ll suspect you of being a pagan.”

Lawrence clenched his fist under the table, as if to crush his guilty conscience.

He had lit a fire under the small doubt that had always lingered within Norah’s heart. There was no way to take it back. Whether it was true or not was irrelevant.

Merchants are like sabers—useless unless straight.

“I’ve been in a similar situation myself. Let me say it plainly.”

He looked straight at Norah and spoke in a voice just low enough for people around not to hear.

“The Church here is lower than pigs.”

Speaking ill of the Church was a serious crime. The shocked Norah peered around, the flames of her doubt suddenly scattered. Lawrence placed his elbows on the table and leaned forward.

“But we have a plan. We’ll give the Church some trouble, make some money, and head to a different town—that kind of plan.”

The flames of her doubt turned to anger and burned hotter, but once they burned out, they would leave behind the cinders of confidence. Within Norah, the seed of justified defiance would begin to flower.

Slowly, Lawrence articulated the heart of the matter.

“We will smuggle gold.”

Norah’s eyes widened, but she soon calmed herself. Surprise could, at best, only be felt as a slightly strong wind.

She finally spoke, her mind working again.

“But…what can I possibly do?”

It was a good question. Her skill as a shepherd wasn’t her only merit.

“As I’m sure you know, gold coming into the city is heavily regulated. Every road that enters Ruvinheigen has checkpoints and two stages of examination. If you hide something in your sleeves or among your luggage, they’ll find it on the spot. If you’re trying to bring in a lot of something, it’s even harder.”

Norah nodded fervently at Lawrence’s plain explanation, as though she was a devout believer listening to a sermon.

“We plan to get gold past the checkpoints by hiding it in the sheep’s stomachs.”

The look on Norah’s face was so astonished that Lawrence could practically hear her say, “Impossible,” but the notion gradually percolated through her mind, like water sinking into hard clay.

Many animals that eat grass year-round, including sheep, tend to swallow stones in the process. There was no reason not to scatter grains of gold among the grass and have the animals swallow them, though they might cough up gold during the long inspection process. And then there was Norah, who despite her skill as a shepherd, had but a small flock that she took far afield, wandering places where few humans traveled. When coming in from Poroson, the first checkpoint was a modest one; heavier traffic would mean a larger scale checkpoint.

Norah nodded slowly. “I see,” she murmured.

“But gold prices are absurdly high in any city affected by Ruvinheigen policy. That makes the pagan town of Lamtra the most convenient place from which to start. If you come via the safest routes from Lamtra, there’s a lot of traffic, and much of that territory has been claimed by other shepherds. This is what makes you perfect for the job. No one will find it suspicious that you’re bringing your sheep through a low-traffic route—and that route is the quickest path from Lamtra to boot.”

Lawrence paused, clearing his throat slightly and looking carefully at Norah before continuing.

“You’ve suffered at the hands of the Church in the city, Norah,” he said sharply. “This is your best chance to turn the tables on them. The Church’s two biggest sources of income are tithes and the gold trade, after all. But if we’re caught, the punishments will be heavy, and once the job is done, we’ll have to leave the city to be safe. And depending on circumstances, we may have to ask you to butcher the sheep.”

There were few shepherds who had never had to butcher an animal—and still fewer who didn’t find the job painful. It was a good way to measure her resolve.

“On the other hand, it’s twenty lumione,” Lawrence said.

You’re being unfair, he told himself, but the more unfair her situation seemed, the more effective the result.

Finally, the girl across the table from him—who had endured heat and cold, suspicious gazes, and terrible treatment, all the while silently tending her flock—weighed the profit, risk, and nature of the job and seemed to come to a conclusion.

Lawrence could see her eyes become calm.

Strong words were uttered from a small mouth.

“Please, let me do it.”

In that moment, Lawrence had convinced another person to make a bet with her own life.

Yet he swiftly aligned himself with Norah and extended his hand—it was that hand that reached out for his own future.

“I shall count on you.”

“…And I on you.”

Now the promise was firm. Norah and Holo shook hands as well, and now all three of their fates were inextricably linked. All three would laugh together or all three would weep.

“Right, now for the details.”

Lawrence then asked Norah about when she would take the sheep, how many she would take, the specifics of the landscape around Lamtra, and how much gold she thought she could compel the sheep to swallow. He would take this information to the Remelio Company.

Midday passed in a twinkling, and by the time they finished talking, business was ending and the merchants and craftsmen appeared in the streets on their way home. Having left her beer untouched, Norah stood. She had absorbed everything while entirely sober and made her decision.

If Lawrence had thought otherwise, he would have followed Norah when she left, giving her parting thanks to the man who had brought such an extraordinary opportunity. He would have tried to convince her to rethink her position.

Lawrence drained the lukewarm beer in the cup in one go. It was bitter and unpleasant.

“Come, should you not be more happy? Everything has gone well and yet!” said Holo to Lawrence with a wry grin.

But Lawrence could not be unreservedly happy. He had persuaded Norah to choose a dangerous path.

“I don’t care how great the profit; nothing exists to balance out the wager of a person’s life,” he said.

“I suppose that’s true.”

“And just talking up the profit like that is the same as fraud. Merchants have always said that it’s a fool who’s bound by an unfair contract. But what is she? Just a shepherdess!”

Though all he had done was raise his voice, regret swirled within his chest.

If all he cared about was survival, he could have accepted Holo’s help, abandoning his life as a merchant and all the people in it.

But to Lawrence that was not so very different from death.

So he had leapt at the heaven-sent chance to turn Holo’s scheme into reality, tricking Norah into helping him.

He knew what he had done but couldn’t help regretting it.

“Come, now,” chided Holo after a time, swirling the remaining beer around in her cup as she stared at its contents.

Lawrence looked over; she kept her attention focused on the cup.

“Have you heard the terrible cry that a sheep makes when you tear out its throat?”

Lawrence’s breath caught at the sudden question. Holo finally faced him.

“Sheep have no fangs, no claws, no fleet feet with which to escape when wolves come flying across the field like arrows with claws, teeth, and speed to tear at their throats. What think you of this?”

Holo spoke as if making everyday conversation—and in truth, she was.

What she talked about happened frequently—no, more than frequently.

One hunted one’s food with every method available. It was simple, obvious.

“The death cry of a lamb is indescribable, yet my empty stomach complains constantly. If I must listen to one of them, I’ll lend my ear to the louder of the two, will I not?”

Lawrence understood.

If having to sacrifice something in order to survive was a sin, then the only path remaining was to die while fasting as a saint.

But that didn’t excuse just any behavior.

It took someone else saying what he needed to hear in order to free himself from the conflict.

“You’re not so very bad.”

Lawrence saw Holo smile at him helplessly and felt his black guilt melt away.

He had very much wanted to hear those words.

“Hmph. Such a spoiled boy.”

Lawrence made a grim face at having been seen through so easily, but Holo just finished off her beer and stood.

“Still, neither humans nor wolves can live alone. Sometimes one needs a pack mate to curl up with. Am I wrong?”

Surely this was the definition of flexible strength.

Lawrence nodded in acknowledgment of Holo’s smile and stood himself.

“Still, you’re quite the dangerous one,” she said.

She was probably talking about his skillful manipulation of Norah—but a fine merchant he would be if he could not do at least that much.

“You’d best believe it. Watch yourself, lest I trick you as well.”

Holo giggled. “I’ll look forward to that.” She laughed as though she truly did anticipate it, which made Lawrence wonder if he was not the one being led on. He didn’t say it, but as Holo let slip a private smile when they began to walk, it seemed best to assume she could see right through him.

“In any case, we’ve no choice but to try and make sure we all end up laughing,” said Lawrence.

“That’s the spirit. Still…”

Lawrence looked at Holo, who had trailed off in midsentence.

“…Would it not be even better for the two of us to have the last laugh?”

It was a seductive notion, but no—better that everyone was happy.

“You really are simply too softhearted.”

“Is that so bad?”

“Far from it.”

The two smiled slightly as they walked through the city.

The road ahead was far from bright, but each sensed in the other’s face that the future was clear enough.

The smuggling would succeed.

The thought was unfounded, but Lawrence believed it anyway.

“My name is Marten Liebert, of the Remelio Company.”

“Lawrence. And this is my companion, Holo.”

“Um, I’m N-Norah. Norah Arendt.”

The Church city of Ruvinheigen had many entrances and exits, and it was in a plaza just before the northeast gate that the three introductions were made.

The morning air before the market bell rang was crisp and pleasant, and the plaza, though still cluttered with litter from the previous night’s commotion, was somehow beautiful.

Among the people gathered there, only Holo had the luxury of looking at the city.

The faces of the other three were all drawn tight with nerves.

The crime of smuggling gold into Ruvinheigen carried heavy punishments, up to and including being drawn and quartered. Under normal circumstances, they would have met many times to ensure there were no unpleasant surprises, but unfortunately the situation did not allow that.

There were many creditors who wanted to crush and devour the Remelio Company. Even a firm facing bankruptcy had land and houses and accounts receivable—all of which could be converted to money.

These creditors could hardly wait for the loan deadlines, so the Remelio Company was under pressure to finish the gold smuggling quickly and turn the results into coin.

Thus, Norah picked up her sheep from the church right after morning services, then headed immediately to join up with the others. Evidently, she had not expected anybody besides Lawrence to be involved and was surprised to hear the Remelio Company’s name, but she kept any doubts to herself. She seemed prepared to play her part.

“Let us go, then. Business is like fresh fish in the kitchen,” declared Liebert. It spoils easily was the unspoken conclusion.

Liebert was the man Hans Remelio had entrusted with the role of smuggling in the gold. Lawrence had no objection, and of course, neither Norah nor Holo seemed opposed.

Arousing only the slightest curiosity from the sleepily yawning guards at the gate, they left the city of Ruvinheigen without incident.

Lawrence wore his usual merchant’s clothes; Liebert dressed in the kind of traveling clothes a city merchant might wear on a hunting trip. Holo had returned to her nun’s outfit, and Norah looked as she always did.

However, neither Lawrence nor Liebert used a wagon. Liebert sat astride his own horse, and Lawrence had put Holo upon another horse, which he led by the reins as he walked. The road was likely to be poor, and traveling without a wagon was significantly faster.

With Norah leading the way as she guided her seven sheep and her sheepdog Enek, the group headed northeast to the town of Lamtra.

It was like the road from Poroson—the route was unpopular with travelers, and the group went the entire day without encountering so much as one other person.

There was nothing worth calling conversation, and the only sounds were the bell on Norah’s staff and the bleating of her sheep.

The first interaction that even approached conversation came at sunset, when Norah stopped and began to make camp, which Liebert took issue with. With his almond-shaped eyes and smooth blond hair, he was every inch the spirited young employee entrusted with an important job. He advocated, in a rather high-strung fashion, for making more progress before stopping to camp.

But Liebert lacked travel experience. Once Lawrence explained things like how shepherds work and the risks of nighttime travel, Liebert was surprisingly understanding. He may have been high-strung, but he was by no means unreasonable.

Far from it, in fact, Lawrence realized Liebert was probably a good-natured man under normal circumstances once he offered a sincere apology.

“I am sorry. The pressure is getting to me, I think.”

Liebert had been entrusted with the continued existence of the Remelio Company. Sealed securely in the inside of his coat was a note for buying up gold—in the amount of six hundred lumione. Even his master, Remelio, was probably clasping his hands in prayer back in Ruvinheigen.

“Well, unlike me, you’re carrying an entire company on your back. It’s to be expected,” said Lawrence. Liebert looked slightly relieved and smiled.

The night passed quietly, and soon it was morning.

Among townspeople, breakfast is often regarded as a luxury, and many do not take it—but for those who live by travel, it is common sense.

Thus, they set off with all but Liebert chewing away on flat bread and jerky.

They stopped again just before noon.

It was just at the crest of a small hill; the road beneath their feet headed straight east, bending south at the summit of the next hill. All around them grew grass ideal for grazing; it stretched out in every direction.

But the road now turned away from their destination. Faintly visible to the north was the dark green line of the forest, and tracing that line west, they could see the craggy faces of the steep hills in the distance.

They would be heading between the hills and the forest, across fields where no wagon rolled and no traveler’s foot trod.

The fields dividing the craggy hills, which were so rugged that they were impassable even on foot, from the thick, eerie forest (that even knights hesitated to enter) were the quickest path to Lamtra.

No one in their right mind would take that route, which despite its entirely mundane appearance was ineffably terrifying. Though Holo sniffed at rumors of pagan sorcerers summoning wolves, it was hard not to wonder at them.

Unless they navigated the pass and arrived safely in Lamtra and unless they returned with gold, none of them had a future. Their faces met, and they all nodded with unspoken understanding.

“If we encounter wolves, do not panic. We will arrive safely,” said Norah with surprising resolve—it was reassuring, though Holo did not seem to find it at all amusing.

No doubt Holo the Wisewolf had something to say. When Lawrence met her eyes, she sneered slightly, but she soon regained her composure.

“God’s protection be with us,” Liebert prayed.

The rest followed suit.

The weather was good.

There was an occasional wind that stirred the cold air, making it brush against the travelers’ cheeks, but as they were walking, it was easily ignored.

Norah headed up the group along with Liebert on horseback; behind them came the seven sheep; and trailing the sheep was Lawrence, leading the horse on which Holo rode.

The farther north through the fields that they headed, the closer the hills drew, nudging them toward the forest’s edge. They kept as close to the forest as they could, since the horses might injure themselves on rockier terrain. However, as they got close enough to make out the gloomy form of the forest, its eeriness grew.

It was hard to say, but Lawrence thought he might have just heard a wolf howl.

“Hey.”

“Hm?”

“Do you think wolves will be a problem?” he asked, lowering his voice.

“No good. We’re already surrounded.”

Even that obvious joke made his breath catch in his throat for a moment.

Holo chuckled soundlessly. “I can guarantee your safety. The others, I don’t know about.”

“We’ll be in trouble unless everyone’s okay.”

“I truly do not know. The forest is downwind; if there are wolves, they’ve long since noticed us and started sharpening their fangs.”

Lawrence suddenly got the feeling that something in the forest was watching him.

He heard the sudden patter of an animal’s footfalls, and surprised, he turned to face the sound, seeing Enek run past him in a blur of black fur.

Enek chased after two stray sheep.

“Clever dog,” said Lawrence.

He had not meant anything by it, but Holo still sniffed in irritation.

“Being half-clever only invites death,” she said.

“…What do you mean?” he asked. It would be complicated if Liebert or Norah, ahead of them, were to overhear the conversation, so Lawrence spoke in a hushed voice.

On the horse above him, Holo wore a sour expression.

“That dog, it knows what I am.”

“It does?”

“Hiding my ears and tail will fool humans but not a dog. Ever since we first met, it’s been looking at me in the most irritating way.”

Lawrence could tell Enek had been looking at them, but he had not realized why.

“But, here, what really irritates me”—Holo flicked her ears underneath her hood; she was quite angry—“is that dog’s eyes. Those eyes, they say, ‘Just you try touching the sheep. I’ll rip your throat out.’”

Lawrence smiled awkwardly, as if to say “surely not.” The flinty-eyed look he got from Holo made him wince.

“Nothing makes me so angry as a dog that doesn’t know its place,” said Holo, looking away.

Perhaps dogs and wolves were enemies in much the same way that crows and doves were.

“And anyway, I am Holo the Wisewolf. I won’t fall for some mere dog’s provocation,” she complained with a scowl. It was nearly impossible not to laugh.

But since it would be a problem if Holo got angry, Lawrence stifled his chuckle. “Indeed, that dog is no match for you. You’re stronger, smarter, and your tail fur is finer.”

It was obvious flattery, and the last compliment seemed to work.

Holo’s ears pricked up beneath her hood, and her face broke into a proud smile that no mask of composure could hope to hide.

She giggled. “Well, I see you understand the way of it, then.”

It was true—Lawrence did understand by now how to handle Holo, but of course, he didn’t say that and only inclined his head in a vague bow.

Eventually the grass grew sparse and the ocher soil more prominent.

The hills that spread out to the west were closer than ever and looked like an angry sea.

The group continued down the road, though it barely rated as such when they had to cross large tree roots that occasionally slowed progress.

Soon the sound of the wind through the trees reached their ears.

Yet still they pressed onward, passing the second night of the journey without incident.

According to Norah, if they left at daybreak the next morning, they would reach Lamtra by midday. Thus, they would have spent less than half the travel time that it normally would have taken to use the established route. Their route was closer to a third or a quarter of the distance. If this path was cleared, trade with Lamtra would become simple. Looking back on the distance they had covered thus far, Lawrence realized that wolves had not been a problem. It was easy to wish there was a more proper road.

Of course, a road would also make Lamtra much more susceptible to assault. Ruvinheigen would find it hard to tolerate a pagan city situated so close. That had not happened yet, which made it easy to suspect that Lamtra secretly paid Ruvinheigen specifically to prevent such a road’s construction. Wherever there is power, there is also bribery, after all.

After a bland dinner, Lawrence sat deep in thought as he sipped some wine Liebert had brought. With no one to talk to, he was left to his own devices.

Holo had quickly finished her own wine and was now wrapped up in a blanket, leaning against Lawrence, fast asleep. Liebert, tired and unaccustomed to travel, dozed before the campfire.

Lawrence looked around and spotted Norah a bit farther from the campfire, stroking Enek on her lap. Evidently, if she stayed too close to the fire, her eyes would become accustomed to the light and that could cause problems if something were to happen.

Norah seemed to notice Lawrence looking at her; she glanced over at him.

She looked down at her hands, then back up, smiling pleasantly.

For a moment Lawrence didn’t see why she was smiling, but then he looked down at his own hands and understood.

Holo snored away on Lawrence’s lap—“the same as me,” Norah’s smile said.

Lawrence, though, was quite afraid to stroke Holo’s hair. The wolf on his lap was far more fearsome than Enek.

As he looked at Holo, peaceful and innocent as she slept, the temptation to caress her grew keener. Surely there would be no problem if he mimicked Norah with Enek.

Liebert was asleep, and Norah minded her sheep as she tended to Enek.

Lawrence set down the roughly hewn wooden cup he held and slowly moved his hand toward Holo.

He had stroked her head many times before, but suddenly it now seemed somehow sacred.

His hand trembled. Then, at that moment—

“—!”

Holo lifted her head up.

Lawrence hastily withdrew his hand; Holo eyed him warily but soon turned her attention elsewhere. Lawrence wondered what was happening when he noticed that Norah had gotten to her feet, as had Enek, teeth bared.

Everywhere he looked it was the same—pitch-black forest.

“Mr. Lawrence, get back!” shouted Norah urgently, and mostly by reflex, the merchant tried to do as he was told, but he was caught on something and could not stand.

He turned only to find that it was Holo, holding fast to his clothes, keeping his hands behind him. He was about to protest when a warning glare from Holo over his shoulder pierced him. If he had to guess, the look meant something like “ignore the girl and get behind me.”

Holo seemed to harbor an intense hostility toward Norah, and afraid to oppose her, when Holo stood, Lawrence stayed behind her.

Norah was absorbed in her own work, ringing the bell on her staff and directing Enek, rounding up the sleeping sheep and bringing them closer to the campfire, and then tapping the sleeping Liebert on the shoulder. Finally, she threw several more pieces of firewood onto the campfire.

Norah’s movements were practiced and calm, and her awkward manner around other people reminded Lawrence of his own clumsiness when dealing with people outside of business.

Liebert finally awoke and, sensing the tense atmosphere, followed Norah’s and Holo’s gazes, searching for wolves.

He retreated, hand clutching his chest—no doubt feeling for the six hundred lumione note that was concealed there—as he got behind Enek, whose tail fur was standing on end as he bared his fangs.

The camp’s defense arrangements settled, the only sounds that remained were the uneasy baas of the sheep, Enek’s ragged breathing, and the crackling of the campfire.

There was no sound from the ebony woods. The moon was out, and there was no wind. Naturally being a mere merchant, Lawrence could hardly sense any presences in the forest.

But Norah, Enek, and Holo were utterly motionless as they looked into the woods.

For all he could tell, they might have been staring at catfish swimming in a black pond.

Strangely, he could not hear so much as a hint of a wolf’s howl. Lawrence had been attacked by wolves many times in his travels, and such attacks always came with howls. And yet none were audible.

He wondered if there really were any.

Time crawled by with agonizing slowness.

There was no baying. The only reason Lawrence could keep his guard up was Holo—he trusted her implicitly, and she was still the very picture of seriousness.

Liebert, seeing Norah and Holo as mere girls, was another matter entirely.

The color returned to his previously frightened, pale face, and he began to cast his gaze here and there doubtfully.

There was movement the instant he opened his mouth.

Norah held her staff in the crook of her right arm and with her left hand took hold of the horn affixed to her side. Holo saw the gesture and was unamused—perhaps because wolves and hunting horns were ever in conflict.

Just as wolves howled and bears scratched themselves on trees, shepherds announced their presence with the blow of a horn. No animal could reproduce that long, drawn-out note, which unmistakably betrayed the presence of a shepherd.

The note rang out in the night and was swallowed by the forest. If there were indeed wolves nearby, they now knew that a skilled shepherd was among them.

But still, no howling rang out. The group’s opponents maintained absolute silence.

“…Did we chase them off?” asked Liebert uncertainly.

“I’m not sure…At the very least, they seem to have backed away.”

Liebert knitted his brow at Norah’s vague answer, but seeing Enek stop baring his teeth and set about the work of rounding up the sheep, he accepted that the immediate danger had passed.

Perhaps he had decided that animals understood other animals.

“The wolves in this area are always like this. I hardly ever hear them howl, and they do not seem to attack—they just watch…”

The young employee of the Remelio Company paled at Norah’s words, as though she had been talking about corpses returning to life and rising from their graves. Liebert was more timid than he looked.

“’Tis a bit strange they don’t even howl,” murmured Holo, still looking into the forest. Liebert gave her a skeptical look—this town girl who wasn’t even a shepherd, what did she know of wolves?

It wasn’t that Liebert had an especially bad disposition—many townspeople were like this, but their assumptions still grated on Holo’s nerves.

“It could be aught besides wolves. For example, the spirit of a traveler who died here.”

Liebert’s face went sheet white. The wisewolf had exposed his cowardice.

“Still—”

Holo tugged at Lawrence’s sleeve once she had finished teasing the poor lamb. Her voice was low, so Lawrence leaned down to put his ear level with her.

“I was half-serious. I have a bad feeling.”

This journey was no ordinary one. They had to make it safely to and from Lamtra. If the group failed, whether they ran or met their fate, Lawrence’s life as a merchant would be over.

He gave Holo a baleful look as if to say, “Don’t try to frighten me with your foolish stories,” but she just vaguely surveyed the forest.

Apparently she wasn’t joking.

“Hmm, we seem to be out of firewood,” said Norah brightly, perhaps to dispel the still-tense atmosphere. Lawrence agreed, and Holo finally averted her gaze from the forest and nodded. Liebert nodded as well, probably mostly out of a sense of obligation.

“I’ll just go gather some more then, shall I?” said Norah, perhaps confident in her night vision.

Lawrence felt bad leaving it just to her. “I’ll come as well.”

Holo chimed in. “As shall I.”

Not knowing the first thing about starting a campfire, Liebert had not raised a finger to tend it, but now he must have felt entirely ill at ease.

“I-I’ll help, too!” he said, clearing his throat, afraid of being left all alone.

Holo smiled unpleasantly at him.

They walked into the forest to gather firewood, and Lawrence wondered if the bestial aura he felt was just his imagination.

Yet there were no further incidents, and the night passed quietly.

When Lamtra finally came into view, Lawrence breathed a sigh of genuine relief.

With the deep forest to their right and the rugged hills to the left, their passage had felt akin to going down an endless back alley.

But his sigh of relief did not come from reaching the end of that alley. He had experienced far worse trails many times in the past. No, the relief came from the fact that the strange gaze he had felt upon him the previous night was gone.

Lawrence knew it wasn’t simply his imagination since Holo and Norah had been continuously on guard as well. There was definitely something within the forest that separated Ruvinheigen and Lamtra—something that even knight brigades feared.

Even so, they had made the trip out successfully, so the return trip should also be possible. Lawrence was still uneasy about it, but Norah was with them, and she had made the trek many times and never been attacked once. Relying on her shepherding skills—as well as Holo—would see them through somehow.

Then all they had to do was bring in the gold.

Lawrence was deep in thought as he watched Liebert head into town to make the purchase—there was no point in the lot of them filing into Lamtra.

“I hope everything goes well,” said Norah, no doubt referring to Liebert’s task.

So far, everything they did was perfectly legitimate, so there was little to worry about, but pointing that out seemed excessive.

“Indeed,” replied Lawrence.

There was a reason he used his best merchant smile when he said this.

Norah was simply making small talk.

But in Lawrence’s heart, misgiving mingled with regret.

He worried that Norah didn’t truly understand the consequences that awaited them were they to fail. The shepherdess before him was the one who would be in the most danger when they moved the gold.

The gold would be hidden in the stomachs of her sheep when they passed the checkpoints. If one of the sheep should happen to cough up any of that gold, the shepherd responsible would face immediate punishment.

In contrast to that, if Liebert and Lawrence were to keep silent, they might be able make it through the checkpoint.

There was a huge difference in their risks. He wondered if Norah understood that.

Lawrence looked on as Norah tended to her flock as at any other time, petting Enek when he returned to her side after performing this or that task. The merchant felt he needed to ascertain Norah’s awareness of her peril.

It simply did not seem as though she grasped the difference between what could happen to her compared to what the people around her might face.

If so, taking advantage of her ignorance was not far from fraud. Lawrence considered this and concluded that his conscience was most definitely somewhere near the pit of his stomach.

Were Norah to learn that she would be made to take the fall if caught, she might refuse to cooperate, turning a cold shoulder to them. That had to be avoided. Thus, Lawrence kept silent.

“Now that I think of it…,” Norah piped up, jolting Lawrence out of his reverie.

However, when he lifted his head, he saw that she was not speaking to him.

Norah looked at Holo, who had plucked a single stalk of tall grass and was now wandering about aimlessly.

“Miss…Holo, I mean…” Norah hesitated after saying Holo’s name, perhaps needing to muster up more courage to speak.

Lawrence had noticed Norah trying to engage her female companion several times, but Holo’s curtness made her hesitate.

In his mind, he encouraged her, but he was genuinely surprised at the words that next came out of her mouth.

“Do…Do you know a lot about wolves?”

Lawrence was shocked for a moment, but Holo—ever the canny Wisewolf—did not alter her expression a bit. She finally tilted her head curiously at Norah.

“Um, I mean…I just, last night you noticed the wolves so quickly, so I…”

She trailed off there, perhaps because she wondered if Holo also had experience as a shepherd. Were that the case, it would be like one white crow finding another—one rare shepherdess meeting another would make for lively conversation.

If so, Holo’s unapproachable attitude left few opportunities to speak up.

“What? I simply noticed them, that’s all.”

“Oh, I see…”

“I mean, the men are generally useless, after all,” said Holo with a mischievous smile, glancing at Lawrence, who gave a small shrug in reply. “Don’t you think?” she finished.

“Um, I, I don’t…”

“Hmph. So you think you can count on that?” prodded Holo, pointing sharply. Norah followed where Holo indicated—

—only to meet Lawrence’s eyes.

In that moment, Norah looked genuinely awkward as she averted her eyes. Holo asked her again, and Norah glanced apologetically at Lawrence as she whispered something to Holo, who had drawn near the shepherdess.

Given the cheeky wolf’s smile, it had to be that kind of answer.

Lawrence watched and realized the conversation was about to turn farcical.

He waved his hand back and forth as if to admit defeat, while Holo and Nora laughed.

“In the first place, ’tis not strange to ask if someone like me, traveling alone with a man, knows a lot about wolves!”

Going by looks alone, Norah appeared to be the older of the two girls, but as soon as Holo spoke, she took the upper hand. She put one hand on her hip and held up the index finger of the other looking for all the world like a theologian giving a lecture.

“You see, the answer is completely self-evident! Because—”

Because? Norah leaned forward as if to say.

“Because! Come nighttime, a wolf will always appear—tempted by this helpless, adorable rabbit. Surely you’ll agree that a rabbit who is devoured by a wolf every night could not fail to know something about wolves!”

Norah looked blank for a moment but soon understood what Holo meant. Her face turned beet red as she searched back and forth between Holo and Lawrence; then, embarrassed, she looked at her feet.

Holo giggled. “Ah, ’twas a lovely reaction. But no—my first answer is the one to remember,” she said delightedly, at which Norah blushed to her ears and averted her gaze as she seemed to remember something.

It then sounded like she raised her voice in a quiet “Oh.”

“In truth, it’s my companion that’s more like a rabbit. If I left him on his own, he’d likely die of loneliness.”

Holo whispered into Norah’s ear, but her voice was loud enough to reach Lawrence quite distinctly. He gave Holo a bitter smile, but it was Norah’s credulous nodding that hurt the most.

As if he really seemed that way.

“But, in any case, I just happened to notice the wolves last night.”

In truth, it was not an obvious conclusion, but Norah had been sufficiently confused by Holo at this point that she seemed to accept it. She put her hands to her cheeks (the blush was now subsiding) and nodded.

Then taking a deep breath, she spoke, her nervousness evidently dispelled.

“Actually, I thought perhaps you were a shepherd, Miss Holo.”

“Oh, because I was quick to notice the wolves?”

“Well, there is that, too,” admitted Norah, pausing to look at her black-furred companion, who was content to pause in his work while his mistress had her chat. “Actually, it was because Enek seems to be very aware of you.”

“Mm, is that so?” Holo—whose nerve was such that she had no trouble exposing her tail when she knew she would not be caught—smiled, totally unperturbed as she folded her arms and regarded Enek. “It’s hard to say in front of a pet dog, but I daresay he’s smitten with me.”

As if he had heard her, Enek looked back to Holo and then struck out once again to tend to the flock of sheep.

His mistress, on the other hand, was struck dumb by Holo’s words.

“Wha-what? Er, you mean, Enek is?”

“My, it’s nothing to be sad about. Any male will get overconfident if spoiled. I’m sure he’s quite important to you, but that only makes him feel secure that he’s gained your affection. There’s no mistake; he’ll go looking for others to frolic with. No matter how delicious the bread, sometimes you want soup.”

Perhaps feeling some sympathy with Holo’s intricate argument, Norah nodded, apparently impressed.

“Put another way, sometimes you have to be cold. It’s a good leash.”

Norah nodded firmly, as if she had been told some deep truth, but then called Enek’s name and crouched down to greet him.

She caught him head-on as he streaked over to her, then looked up to Holo, and smiled.

“If he ever has an affair, I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good.”

The wrongly accused Enek barked once, but Norah put her arms around him, and he was soon calm.

“I think I’d like to indulge him as long as I can, though,” said Norah, lightly kissing Enek behind his dangling ears.

Holo looked on, a slight smile playing about her lips.

It was a somewhat bemused smile, inappropriate to the occasion, Lawrence realized, when Holo looked at him.

“Because…whether this job goes well or fails, I’ll be giving up my work as a shepherd,” said Norah quietly as she held Enek in her arms. It was clear that she had a firmly rational grasp of the situation and was prepared to act according to that understanding.

She understood both the position she had been placed in and the likely outcomes.

Lawrence’s concern was unnecessary.

Though Norah might have looked frail, she had survived being cast out of an almshouse and lived through any number of difficulties. She was no pampered noble’s daughter.

At the same time, Lawrence had renewed respect for Holo.

She had discerned Lawrence’s misgivings and, after seizing the conversational initiative from Norah, casually drawn out evidence of how prepared the girl actually was.

That explained Holo’s bemused smile earlier.

The merchant wondered if Holo’s pronouncement that men were generally useless was not necessarily off the mark.

Lawrence covered his eyes in defeat and then sprawled out on the ground to rest.

The autumn landscape was cold with the approaching winter, but the scattered clouds in the sky looked warm.

The smuggling would succeed.

Lawrence muttered encouragement to himself as a sheep meandered over and peered down at him.

After some time, Liebert returned, riding his horse back at a leisurely pace.

When one carries a large amount of money, he will see everyone around him as a thief, but true to his position as a trusted employee of a trading company in a big city, Liebert appeared unperturbed.

He produced a bag of gold grains just large enough to be held in one hand, and after all present had confirmed the bag’s contents, Liebert tucked it into the inside of his jacket, patting it lightly.

“Now all we have to do is make it safely back with this and feed it to the sheep at an opportune time,” he said as if to emphasize that any real problems would be from here on out. “Then once we’ve gotten them through the gates, the sheep will be received as previously discussed. Are we agreed?”

“We are,” said Norah with a nod.

Liebert faced straight ahead. “Then let us go. A golden tomorrow awaits us.”

The small band headed back onto the narrow path between forest and hills.

The next morning, Lawrence opened his eyes as he felt something cold on his face.

Is a sheep licking me again? he wondered, but he saw only the lead-colored sky. Evidently there was going to be a rare autumn rain.

And it was cold. Lawrence lifted his head off the tree root he had been using as a pillow and saw that the fire had gone out. In order to have a small gap between the time Norah went to sleep and everyone awoke, one person had been tasked with having Norah awaken them early to tend the fire. That person was supposed to have been Liebert, but he lay there snoring away, firewood clasped in his arms.

It was so foolish that Lawrence could hardly be angry with him.

“…Mmph.”

Lawrence sat up, apparently awakening Holo, with whom he had shared a blanket.

Without so much as a “good morning,” she shot him a truly withering glare and yanked the blanket away.

“If you’re awake, you don’t need it” seemed to be her logic.

If he argued the point, she would likely become genuinely angry, so although it was a bit early for him, Lawrence forced himself up. He had to toss another log on the campfire. The sheep were all huddled together from the cold, and with no work to do, Enek slept stretched out by the cinders—nestled up to his beloved mistress, of course. Lawrence stood, joints creaking, and tossed a log onto the fire to get it started, glancing wearily at the comfortable-looking Enek.

As the dry wood began to crackle in the fire, Enek yawned contentedly. Lawrence smiled; it reminded him of Holo.

Still, it was cold. It was as if winter had suddenly arrived.

The cause was obvious to Lawrence, looking at the weather, but as they would be arriving in Ruvinheigen at midday the next day, he had wanted it to hold until then.

But the sky seemed unlikely to wait. Lawrence sniffed bitterly. Rain would likely fall by the afternoon, surely by evening.

The trees were thick enough in the forest that the group could probably take shelter under them, but with the sheep along, that was hardly an option. The forest was an ominous one, too. Lawrence was not terrified of it, but neither was he eager to spend the night there. Using the edge of the trees as a rain shelter would be quite close enough.

Lawrence thought it over as he gazed into the growing campfire, and then something suddenly loomed over his back.

He didn’t have time to turn around before a familiar face appeared directly beside him.

It was Holo with the texture of the tree root she had slept on still imprinted on her face.

“’Tis warmer over here.”

Lawrence was not so humble as to take those words purely at face value.

Holo wrapped the blanket around Lawrence’s back and deliberately huddled under it with him again. Stealing the blanket away was all well and good, but perhaps she had decided that was excessive. Hunger and cold were every traveler’s companions, after all.

But as Holo had said nothing to apologize, Lawrence said nothing by way of forgiveness.

He stirred up the embers with a stick, then tossed it into the fire.

“Oh, that’s right,” he said casually. “Didn’t you say you could predict the weather?”

“Surely. It will rain just past midday today,” she replied sleepily.

“Anyone could tell that, looking at this sky,” teased Lawrence.

Instead of scowling, Holo bumped her head against his shoulder lightly.

“Wish we could take fast horses and make it to town before the rain. Anyway, what say you to some potato soup? It’s been warming by the fire.”

“I’ve no complaints. Also—”

“Your tail grooming, right?” said Lawrence, lowering his voice still further.

Holo sighed and nodded. “I want to return to the inn as soon as we can. Though…”

Her face was melancholy as she looked up at the sky.

A chill wind blew through her bangs, and she narrowed her eyes as though it had touched her long eyelashes.

“A rain is coming, though I haven’t wished it so.”

It was then that Lawrence remembered. When he had met Holo, she’d been the harvest god of a bountiful area. Farmers hated a chilly rain during the harvest months of autumn, so though she was far from the wheat fields now, such weather was not something she could welcome.

Though Holo herself hardly had good memories of the wheat fields, owing to the many things that had happened there, she had still been the god of the harvest.

It didn’t take a harvest god to find the cold rain distasteful. In the worse case, the rain might turn to sleet.

Lawrence got cold just thinking about it, and he briskly tossed another log onto the fire.

There was a bit more time before everybody woke up.

Yet he still hadn’t realized something.

Holo never said anything meaningless.