Spice and Wolf - Volume 8 - Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

“Mmph…mmn…”

She moved her mouth, chewing for a moment, swallowing quickly, then opening it again.

When the spoon delivered her another bite of porridge, she quickly bit down.

Occasionally she would chew on the spoon like a teething puppy, despite her age.

This “puppy” had eaten two wooden bowls of the bread crust–thickened porridge, at which point she finally seemed sated. She licked her lips clean, then sighed. As she reclined on her side atop two large pillows grandly stuffed with wool, there was something about her that seemed distinctly like a princess at rest.

But sadly, her physique was far too thin at the moment for her to be called regal.

Having had the great honor of embracing that body, the man’s impression was that even if she wasn’t actually that thin, at the very least he could not deny that she looked quite sinewy.

No, he revised his opinion—what made her look particularly shabby today was that in a rare occurrence, her hair was sleep mussed and tangled.

And also perhaps because the swelling in her face made her appear extremely displeased.

The shabby princess’s name was Holo.

And, of course, Holo was not a princess, although there was every possibility she had once been called a queen, perhaps somewhere in the far north.

Atop Holo’s head sprouted a pair of proud, pointed wolf ears, and from her waist grew a majestic puff of a tail.

Though she currently appeared to be a teenage girl, her true form was that of an enormous wolf, large enough to eat a full-grown man in a single bite. She called herself a wisewolf and had lived for centuries among the wheat, guaranteeing a good harvest.

Yet despite her lineage, which was as proud as any dynasty of kings, when he saw her like this, he could understand why the villagers who had prayed to her for a good harvest had finally ceased to rely on her.

It was true, he had to admit, that her vaunted dignity and authority vanished once she had him feed her, her hair still bed mussed.

That said, the idea that she had opened her heart to him enough that she didn’t mind looking unsightly in his presence held a certain appeal.

Lawrence could only regard it as a telling action on her part.

After all, while this was the second time she had indulged in having him feed her, he still had no memory of her ever thanking him.

This time around, she acted as if the act was the most natural thing in the world, and once she finished eating, she belched loudly, then twitched her ears. Her gaze was distant. Perhaps she was remembering something.

A moment later, her brow furrowed in displeasure.

“Who would ever conceive of a wisewolf complaining of muscle pain?” she asked as he tidied the dishes, her eyes returning to the here and now. “For me to be so frail, you must think me…ngh…,” said Holo, trying to lean her head forward and failing.

Throughout the previous day, Holo had sprinted across the wilderness carrying Lawrence on her back with one other, the wandering boy student, Col.

Perhaps she was happy at being able to run her heart out in the sunlight, but when they’d arrived at the inn, she was so exhausted she couldn’t climb the stairs to their room—and yet up until she fell asleep, her eyes had glittered with a strange excitement.

She had scarcely rested while running, waiting for Lawrence and Col—who merely clung to her back—to cry out for a break.

Holo, in her endless desire to run, had seemed less like a prudent, careful wolf and more like a dog released onto a field. Lawrence had meant to be sarcastic about it, but when he praised her fleetness of foot, her faced swelled with a pride unlike any she had ever shown before.

In her huge wolf form, she was covered in coarse hair that seemed composed of silver wire, and when she sat proudly, he felt a presence from her that was truly worthy of the label “god.”

But when she was so genuinely pleased at his sarcastic praise, he couldn’t help but let slip a rueful grin.

Holo had been worshipped for centuries as a harvest god, so she probably couldn’t help how much she enjoyed expressing herself with childlike openness—and unless Lawrence interpreted her actions in this favorable light, it would have been easy to forget entirely that she was in fact a wisewolf.

But, of course, he knew from their travels thus far that this was simply her true disposition.

So Lawrence praised when he could.

If he’d said any more, her busy tail might have wagged itself right off.

Thanks to her efforts, Holo had appeared so poorly this morning that it had been difficult to look at her, and her constitution was so ravaged that Lawrence could practically hear it. He recalled a truly serious illness.

When it came out that she was merely sore, he was so relieved that he wanted to yell at her for having made him think otherwise.

After all, she could not lift her arms or turn her head, and her back hurt too much for her to stand—the very image of a very sick person, indeed.

What distinguished her from a sick person was her entirely healthy appetite.

“Ah, well, I suppose it’s what comes of running so far while carrying two people on your back.”

“Aye, ’tis true I ran a bit too hard.”

The only parts of her body she could properly move were her ears and tail.

But despite her terrible condition, she did not appear particularly regretful.

Even if she had come to greatly enjoy this girl’s form, perhaps she simply felt her true wolf form fit her better.

When he thought about it like that, perhaps one of the sources of her displeasure during their journeys thus far was simple frustration at being unable to freely travel in her true form.

“Still,” she said as Lawrence considered it. She yawned slightly before continuing, “’Tis shameful to be in such pain that I cannot get out of bed. ’Twould have been less so if those who rode on my back were also unable to rise in the morning.”

She could not move her body, but her mouth worked quite well.

Holo smiled maliciously, but her attitude was completely artificial and thus hard to take seriously.

If Col had been there, he probably would have been at least moderately flustered, but fortunately he was out.

“If you’re so much wiser and farseeing such that I should just leave everything to you, then perhaps I should just go ahead and follow your lead. Except I trust you haven’t forgotten last night, have you?” asked Lawrence, and for once Holo did not refute him.

Quite the contrary—she bit her lip in frustration and turned away.

She seemed to remember the previous night’s failure all too well.

“Honestly. Forget following your lead—I’ve got to keep a tighter grip on your reins. Just who did you say was whose driver again?”

It seemed like a good opportunity to make Holo consider the consequences of her actions, Lawrence thought as he pressed her.

The previous day, Holo’s speed had compelled them to disembark from the boat heading down the Roam River, and they arrived in the port town of Kerube in half a day. Had they stayed on the boat, the same distance would have taken two full days.

Such speed was swifter than any horse they could have hired.

There was, in fact, a reason they had traveled so quickly.

They were pursuing stories of the bones of a great wolf found in a village in the mountainous Roef region. They had no proof, but it seemed likely they came from a wisewolf not unlike Holo, and there was the possibility that the Church authorities would attempt to desecrate the remains in order to display their own might.

That was not something Holo could abide.

Lawrence was not so arbitrary as to change his initial plan and head down the river to chase that story for that reason alone—but he was likewise not honest enough to say aloud the true reason. For his part, Lawrence was using the excuse that he wanted them to end their travels with a smile, but if he had asked Holo, there was no doubt that she would have prepared a different excuse.

In the process of gathering information regarding the wolf bones, they had discovered that among those pursuing the relics were Church authorities in the Roam River region.

And that was why they had come to the port town of Kerube—to speak with Eve, who undoubtedly knew the Roam River region front to back.

Eve, once a noblewoman and now a ruined merchant, had once conspired with the Church in Lenos, so there was no doubt her information network was deep. Also, there had been the fur incident in Lenos, where she had sunk a boat in the river simply to block it as part of her fur-export scheme, which gave Lawrence ample ingredients with which to question her.

Thus, Lawrence, Col, and Holo had disembarked from Ragusa’s vessel, and the former two had climbed upon Holo’s back in pursuit of Eve.

But they had miscalculated. After arriving at the ship they had pursued for some time, they found that Eve was not aboard.

However, they did find Arold, the master of the inn in Lenos where Lawrence and Holo had stayed. That was enough to tell them that the ship was somehow involved with Eve, but strangely, the large volume of furs that it should have been carrying was nowhere to be found.

There was no mistaking the fact that Eve had packed up the furs and was trying to reach Kerube.

Which meant there was a high probability that she had switched to an overland route midway through her journey. Even had she used a ship in order to transport the goods quickly, if the distance was not too far, it was hardly as if other methods were not available.

Supposing—either through good luck or as part of her plan—she had managed to procure some horses, the choice to switch to an overland route midway would not be so very strange.

On the contrary, given that a vessel had been sunk so as to block the following river traffic, it was obvious that the responsible party would be someone who had loaded that first ship with furs. Blithely toting her furs down the river was like loudly proclaiming herself to be the culprit, so switching to land travel would be a good way to avoid such suspicions.

Lawrence thought about it and concluded that Eve was already en route to Kerube. Holo had wanted to interrogate Arold as to her destination, but Lawrence managed to rein her in and continue downriver.

Around twilight, Holo had spotted a far-off caravan, confirming Lawrence’s theory.

Eve led the line of horses.

Lawrence and Holo got ahead of her and waited for her arrival at the entrance to the port town of Kerube.

At that moment, Eve’s face looked as if she had encountered the living corpse of someone she knew to be dead and buried.

Eve entered Kerube with Lawrence and the others, her hair fluttering in the wind that was so cold it seemed to blow directly out of an ice cave. After a short discussion, they stayed at an inn she had recommended.

The reunion took Eve completely by surprise, giving Lawrence the upper hand, but he could not help but conduct their brief conversation with a certain amount of sighing.

Holo had changed back from a wolf into a girl, and though she still glared at him, she was too tired to properly speak.

It was not as if Lawrence was unable to predict what would happen if Holo entered the same room as Eve, whom she had already quarreled with once in Lenos.

However, he had not imagined that it would come to actual blows.

“’Tis on account of your lukewarm disposition. Have you so easily forgotten just who ’twas that gave you that mark upon your face?” Holo emphasized her claim.

“Surely you don’t think that criticizing another proves your own point valid, do you?”

“Hmph…” Holo shut her mouth and pulled her chin in.

She understood that she was the one in the wrong.

Yet Lawrence understood full well the reason she was not quietly accepting that and apologizing.

“I must hand it to Eve on that account. Faced with your threatening mien, she chose to withdraw rather than fight back.”

Holo’s eyes shifted away from Lawrence.

Left alone, Holo would have lunged at Eve right on the spot, but Lawrence had physically restrained her from doing so.

Eve’s eyes had looked them over with a snakelike coldness, neither intimidated nor dismissive, and in the end, she had even smiled slightly.

“It’s because she judged that picking a fight with us there held no profit for her.”

“Oh, so now you’ll talk to me like a child who knows not loss from gain?” snapped Holo, closing her mouth. Her expression was more and more strained, as though a thousand times as many words were swirling about within her throat.

Lawrence watched her, feeling rather exhausted.

Looking at her ears made it obvious she wasn’t truly angry.

So as to why she would have acted the way she did—

“It’s because Eve could tell that your anger wasn’t rational, isn’t it? You were angry like a child is angry. All notions of profit aside.”

In other words, Eve had realized she had tread upon a tail she should not have.

If her opponent had been rationally angry, then Eve could have met her with reason, but trying to reason with an anger of passion would only have had the opposite effect. So Eve had meekly lowered her head.

At which point, Holo, while still angry, had to acknowledge Eve’s sense and let her go.

And yet she could not simply accept the situation.

While logic required Holo to excuse Eve, it was no easy thing. Holo ground her teeth before Eve’s spell-like influence. To break the confrontation off required Lawrence to work some magic of his own.

She certainly was a troublesome princess.

“Well, having had such a passionate confrontation, it should make it easier to talk rationally. Easier for us to find some profit.”

“…And?” Holo glared at him.

Embarrassed, Lawrence slackened his shoulders and sighed softly.

It was a sigh of acquiescence.

“If it was for me that you were so angry…thank you.”

Since ancient times, promises were customarily made verbally, speaking them aloud—save, for some reason, in business.

Even now, Lawrence could not escape the awkwardness he felt when plainly speaking his feelings, but if Holo required this of him, then he would have to do it anyway.

Negotiation required finding compromises for both parties.

“Aye, if you say so.” The venom finally drained from her face, and her ears flicked rapidly.

The faint chatter of the market across the street was audible through the window.

The winter sunlight was warm, and as long as one was directly in its rays, it felt almost as if spring had come.

Lawrence could not help smiling at the absurdity of it all, and Holo, too, chuckled.

It was a pleasant, peaceful moment and a precious one.

“Now then, I’ll just tidy up the dishes…”

“Aye,” said Holo in response to Lawrence’s statement, which had been mostly to himself. Her gaze fell to her tail—which along with her ears were the only unexhausted parts of her body—as if she wanted to groom it.

It was a scene that had replayed itself many times on their journey.

However, there was one element that differed from their usual arrangement.

The element in question was Col, who had gone shopping in the marketplace, which Lawrence remembered when there was a knock at the door. After a few moments’ wait, the door opened, and there stood Col, carrying a wooden bowl.

Lawrence searched his memory for exactly what it was that Col had gone out to buy, and in that moment, a strong smell reached his nose—a peculiar smell, like sweet herbs boiled in sulfurous water.

He flinched away at the overwhelming odor, but Col seemed not to mind it one bit.

“I made a salve!” he said, cheerily entering the room.

From his labored breathing, Lawrence could tell the boy had hurried.

Holo had taken a liking to Col and patted his head. Meanwhile, Col seemed to have become quite taken with Holo.

Upon seeing her state this morning, he had bounded out of the room like a hare, off into the morning bustle of the town.

The people of the northlands had exceptional knowledge of medicinal herbs like these.

It was not an overstatement to say they had remedies for everything from cuts to fevers. He had surely made a salve that would be effective for muscle pain.

Lawrence’s thoughts got that far, but then he stopped himself short.

Holo.

Lawrence turned around to see the keen-eared, keen-nosed wisewolf of Yoitsu having literally turned tail and curled up in agony at the smell.

He could not help but sympathize.

But could she turn down the medicinal salve that Col had made out of the kindness of his heart?

Lawrence ignored the desperately pleading glance that Holo gave him from behind her pillow, and the moment he passed Col—

“Ah, this salve will work on your wounds, too, Mr. Lawrence.”

Holo had buried her face in the pillow, but her ears pricked up happily upon hearing this.

The salve had a deep green color and a suspiciously thick consistency.

Lawrence applied some of it to a piece of cloth, then applied it to the swollen section of his right cheek. Instantly, the pungent scent pierced him like a needle, and an intense heat spread throughout his face. It stung his eyes and seemed to almost wrench his nose.

And yet Col had spared some of his meager traveling funds to make the balm, so it could not be allowed to go to waste.

Still, the terrible smell…

When Lawrence rubbed it on Holo’s shoulders and back, she looked at him with truly terrified eyes. Given how sensitive her nose was, she was doubtlessly truly suffering.

And yet some part of Lawrence felt as if he should not have to be the only one forced to endure the stuff, and given that it did seem to be effective, he rubbed it on Holo all the same.

Holo made indescribable noises as he applied it to her, none of which were remotely charming.

As penance, Lawrence would probably have to buy her new clothes later. That or some fine wine.

Once he was finished rubbing it in, she gave him a final, venomous glance, which he supposed was unavoidable.

“Oh, that’s right. The merchant we met yesterday on the way here said she wants to meet with you.”

Once he finished applying the salve to the places on Holo’s body that were particularly afflicted, Lawrence wiped the excess from his hands.

It seemed clear enough that it was strong medicine, so it probably would have some sort of effect.

As he replied to Col, Lawrence regarded Holo from the corner of his eye—she was curled up and groaning on the bed, probably from the salve’s smell. “The merchant we met yesterday? You mean Eve?”

“That’s right.”

“Haste is a virtue, eh? She’ll be gone today or tomorrow, I guess.”

Though she was fallen nobility, Eve was moving up in the merchants’ world with incredible momentum.

In Lenos, the town of lumber and fur, she had ensnared Lawrence as part of an unbelievable fur trade. In addition to the fur she had gained in her enormous gamble, she had gone to the absurd length of sinking a ship in the river so that no one else would be able to move fur the way she had.

With her cunning mind and abundant pluck, she had taken every precaution, but if she dawdled in this town, the dike she had built of dangerous dealings was likely to burst. She would want to hasten far away as soon as possible.

Also, she had to move the fur she had brought from Lenos from here to the next town.

While the town had only just begun to rise, it was probably too slow for Eve.

“Where did she say I should go?”

“Er, she said she’d visit the inn after a bit.”

“…I see.”

Eve was a rather busy person at the moment, so that she would go out of her way to come here carried heavy implications.

The first thing Lawrence thought was that she would want to avoid being accused of sinking the ship in the Roam River.

“So, did you eat breakfast?”

“Huh? Ah…er, yes.”

While he lacked Holo’s talent for it, as a merchant, Lawrence was reasonably good at spotting lies.

He lightly poked Col’s head, and then without saying anything, he thrust a sack of bread at him.

Most likely he had used his breakfast money to buy the herbs with which he had brewed and made the salve.

With the dangerous goal of using Church authority to protect a pagan village, Col had traveled to the south to study Church law—the boy was more orthodox than the orthodox.

Col hesitated to accept the sack, but Lawrence pretended not to notice, venturing over to Holo, who was still moaning under the blanket.

When he informed her of his plan to go out for a bit, she did not raise her head, replying instead with her ears.

Lawrence had wondered if the odor might be enough to make her faint, but surprisingly, that appeared not to be the case.

Lawrence, too, had begun to find the scent less off-putting. The swollen patch on his right cheek felt somehow hot, and in turn, the bruise began to feel better.

Holo the wolf surely, he supposed, had an even clearer understanding of the medicine’s effect on her body.

From the far side of the bed, he heard the words, “I’ll not forgive you if you lose.” From this, he concluded his guess was not incorrect.

A bit relieved, Lawrence looked over his shoulder, whereupon Col—who had been holding the sack abashedly for some time—stood, bread in both hands.

The bag contained both normal rye bread and rye baked with milk, but Col held only the former. Lawrence could not help but grin at the boy’s reserve.

He wished Holo would learn a bit from it.

“So, are you coming?” Lawrence asked, meaning if Col planned to come along to the meeting with Eve.

Col’s eyes darted about for a moment, but then he nodded.

Lawrence intended to ask Eve about the wolf’s leg bone that supposedly came from a spirit or god like Holo, which in turn was the god that the village of Col’s birth worshipped.

It was to discover the truth of the stories surrounding this wolf-god’s bone that Col was traveling with Lawrence and Holo in the first place.

All of which meant that he had every reason to want to come along.

And yet Lawrence had the feeling that if he hadn’t invited the boy along, he would not have come.

Despite his youth, he was of a nervously polite disposition.

His attraction to Holo was surely rooted in his finding her casual arrogance refreshing.

“Well, you’d best finish that bread quickly, then,” said Lawrence as he left the room, and Col hastily jammed the bread into his mouth.

“R-right!”

Lawrence then offered a further statement. “Once you’re finished, of course, don’t forget your ‘I just ate rye bread!’ face!”

Though Col had enjoyed a good, cultured upbringing in the abbey, it seemed his impoverished travels had wreaked havoc on his table manners, and he was a bit wild.

His cheeks packed squirrel-like with bread, he stood there blankly.

He then seemed to understand what Lawrence meant, and swallowing the bread with a grin, he answered, “The Church also teaches that we should hide our mouths when we eat.”

“But that’s to hide when you’re eating something good, is it not?”

Lawrence closed the door and began to walk with Col following one step behind him like a faithful son.

“Thank you for the bread. It was delicious,” said Col—and being a bright lad, he said it with a bit of a smile.

The first floor of the inn was a dining area.

It was generally accepted that only travelers indulged in the extravagance known as “breakfast,” so those sitting at the tables were all dressed for journeying.

Among them was Eve at her table, looking as she always did. At a glance, she appeared every bit a traveler about to start on some journey.

And it was entirely possible that her appearance was accurate. What most concerned Lawrence at that moment was that not only did Eve have her face mostly hidden behind the scarf she wrapped around it, but also that the scarf covered her nose.

“…What a terrible odor.”

The innkeeper behind the counter was giving Lawrence a dirty look, and the other customers were stunned enough that they forgot their anger.

Lawrence remained defiantly unworried, and Col for his part seemed genuinely unconcerned.

While the scents that people preferred differed from region to region, surely this was an extreme example, Lawrence thought to himself as he sat across from Eve.

Whereupon Eve said something truly unexpected.

“Still, I’ve not smelled this in a long time. Doubtless that bruise of yours will be gone by evening.”

The right cheek to which Col’s salve had been applied was the same right cheek that Eve had struck hard with a hatchet handle during her fight with Lawrence.

Her tone was slightly joking. “So he prepared a remedy for you, eh? Educated lad,” she said with mild exaggeration in her voice, looking past Lawrence to Col, who stood behind him. “From Roef, are you?”

Eve quietly fixed Col in her gaze, then closed her eyes briefly.

Lawrence could not guess at what she might have been thinking.

“At any rate, I know the banks of the Roam River backward and forward. And it’s that knowledge that you’ve pursued me here for, yes? And with such unbelievable speed that I can’t imagine how you managed it.”

Through the gap in the scarf with which she hid her face, her eyes narrowed.

It was the virtue of all merchants that even if they had been prepared to kill each other yesterday, if their interests were aligned today, they’d happily shake hands. Without a contractual relationship, there would be no lingering emotional resentment.

Even given everything that had happened in Lenos, they were now like old acquaintances.

“My shock last night was the deepest I’ve had in many years. I wondered if there’d been some mistake with the contract.”

Though he always found himself confused by Holo’s roundabout way of speaking, this sort of exchange was one Lawrence understood all too well.

The buzzing in his chest was an emotion not unlike love.

This game merchants played, each trying to sound the other out and learn the other’s true motives—it was a delight, it tickled.

“It’s true, I seek only your knowledge—no contract of trade binds us.” Given the circumstances, Lawrence wanted to make it entirely clear that he was not after Eve’s furs.

Eve nodded faintly, then stood from her seat. “Let’s move elsewhere. We’re only earning the ire of the innkeeper and our fellow patrons here,” she said impishly.

But it was not necessarily a joke, so Lawrence stood and, with Col in tow, followed Eve.

“So, what of your companion?” she asked.

They emerged from the inn onto a narrow street—it was more of a broad alleyway, truth be told.

The town of Kerube was divided into northern and southern halves by the river, and the inn at which Lawrence was staying was on the northern part.

Clean buildings were few and far between on the north side, and while the riverside market was a lively one, even a short distance away alleys and slumping construction were common. The overwhelming impression was one of desperation.

Building height was far from uniform, either because the local government had generous policies on matters of scenic aesthetics, or because it simply lacked the political power to do anything about this.

Lawrence mused on the matter as Eve headed without hesitation to the opposite side of the market.

“My companion is quite tired from our journey. She’s in bed with this salve on her body.”

“That’s…” Eve trailed off, then looked back to Col, and behind her scarf Lawrence could tell she was smiling. “…Well, you’ll know soon enough.”

Even if it had not been about Holo, Lawrence could tell she had restrained herself from offering sarcastic condolences.

Col wore a proud, if oblivious, smile.

“Still, that may be fortunate for me. And fortunate for you, as well, I should say.”

“For both sides, then.” Lawrence slumped and gave a tired smile.

Holo’s anger was the reason he had not asked Eve what she knew the previous night.

“Still, someone who will become angry on your behalf is a precious asset. You’d best value her.”

“She thinks of me as her asset, and she was probably angry at her property being damaged.”

Eve’s shoulders shook beneath her cloak.

She then veered toward the edge of the street, to avoid a woman approaching them with a basketful of winter vegetables.

They were undoubtedly bound for sale at the market, and compared to their summer counterparts, they were a deep green and looked cold. No doubt they were best used in soup rather than eaten raw or pickled.

“If you are indeed your companion’s property, she would’ve sought compensation. But she instead sought revenge.” Lawrence thought he saw a flash of loneliness in Eve’s pale blue eyes.

Eve’s house had fallen into poverty, and she’d been sold, name and all, to a wealthy merchant looking to purchase a noble title for himself.

Money. Or revenge.

Lawrence felt as though just thinking about it caused Eve pain.

He regretted the poor choice of words his banter showed.

“Heh. Once you’ve inspired your opponent’s guilt and sympathy, it makes dealing with them that much easier,” said Eve.

At her words, Lawrence returned to his senses with a start.

Techniques of seduction and false tears always trumped more honest ways of doing business.

Despite his wariness, he’d been taken in.

But Lawrence smiled and scratched his head abashedly, naturally with good reason. “And why would you venture to admit that?” he asked, enjoying posing the riddle as he looked at Col, who was concentrating hard as he tried to follow the conversation. “By revealing your own trap to me like that, you’re trying to get me to let my guard down.”

“Indeed. Thus my fangs will sink in all the deeper.”

There was no doubt that if she removed her scarf, she’d be smiling and showing her fangs at that very moment.

He thought he understood now what Holo meant when she called Eve a “vixen.”

As a merchant, Eve was very like a wolf, but Holo did not want to acknowledge her as a peer.

“Ah, we’ve arrived.”

“Where’s this?”

As soon as they stopped, Col walked right into Lawrence. The boy had undoubtedly been concentrating on the conversation between Lawrence and Eve, trying to understand even some small piece of it.

Lawrence remembered doing the same thing with his own master, and it made him a bit nostalgic.

“My foothold in this town. If I told you it’s like a trading company without a sign, you’d be able to imagine what I meant, no?”

In contrast to the surrounding buildings, the walls were blackened and the roof seemed likely to slide right down into the alley, although the stone foundation seemed sturdy enough.

Col seemed worried by Eve’s theatrical statement and gulped nervously.

But of course she was joking. A closer look at the black walls revealed a discolored patch where something had been removed.

In other words, a ruined or bankrupt trading company.

“I’d appreciate it if you’d tease us a little less,” said Lawrence to Eve’s back as she put her hand to the door, at which point he heard Col let slip a small “huh?”

The boy seemed to have realized in that moment that he was the only one who had not understood.

Eve turned, though surely not to confirm Col’s reaction. “Out of consideration for your adorable little apprentice?” she inquired, amused.

“Unfortunately, he’s not my apprentice, nor is he a merchant. So I wish you’d not twist the poor lad’s mind too much.”

At these words, Eve burst out laughing in a most un-Eve-like manner. “Ha-ha-ha! It’s true! Oh, it’s true—we merchants are a twisted lot.”

Unconcerned with the frustration of poor Col, whose jaw clenched at this exchange that went right over his head, the two twisted merchants entered the building.

Lawrence looked back over his shoulder at Col, who followed with an expression of displeasure on his face.

He must have thought he was being made sport of.

Lawrence grimaced and heaved a long-suffering sigh.

It occurred to him that too much time around merchants would distort the boy’s pleasant disposition. Such a waste.

They were served warm goat’s milk mixed with butter and mead.

In Col’s case, he received plain honey in the mead’s stead.

Perhaps owing to the butter’s quality, it made Lawrence wish for some slightly bitter rye bread to go with it.

“So Arold has not yet arrived, then?”

As soon as they all entered the building, silence fell in the interior.

The only sounds were the crackling of the fire in the fireplace and the goat’s milk bubbling away in a pot directly beside it.

There were no other sounds as Lawrence watched Eve sit in front of the fireplace and prepare their drinks with surprising efficiency.

“Probably by this evening. Will you eat?” asked Eve, holding some rye bread that she’d cut into chunks with a knife.

Into the earthen-rimmed wooden bowls was poured the goat’s milk, now boiled down to the point where it resembled melted cheese.

With salt and oil added and topped with slices of herring, there was no doubt it would be delicious.

“If this is the sort of food you eat, your next journey will be a harsh one.”

“Quite right. A taste for fine food sends the costs of travel into the sky. But if you’re not a merchant, there’s no need to worry about such things, is there?” asked Eve, setting a piece of bread before Col. “It’s a kind of fate, being a likable person,” she added, smiling as she removed the scarf she wore, baring her face.

Watching Col’s shocked face in that moment was rather amusing.

“I suppose I’ve a bit of motherliness left in me after all,” declared Eve with a self-mocking smile, hiding her worry and pain. She was startlingly beautiful.

Lawrence had often thought that women were better suited to being merchants than men, and the thought struck him afresh.

Not even the most canny of men could compare with Eve’s ever-changing identities and faces.

“So, you had something to ask me?” Eve broke the silence as she watched Col slowly savor the bread, unlike the way he had wolfed down the portion Lawrence had given him earlier.

“Yes, about a cursed story.”

“Ah, the talk of this riverside company looking for a holy relic—though I don’t know if the pagans would call it ‘holy.’”

Lawrence nodded, and Eve’s gaze became distant.

“Those rumors started circulating in the Roam River region about two years ago. At the time, anybody who’d ever dirtied his hands in bad business was excited about it.”

“And the truth?”

A child could be heard crying far away.

Within the town, the cries of children were more common than birdsong.

“Just what you’d expect. As long as there was no word of the bone being found, the rumors deflated as quickly as they’d spread. It turned into a joke.”

He doubted Eve was lying—most importantly, she had no reason to.

And yet smoke didn’t rise without a fire at its source.

“Does it fit that the rumor’s source would be a company in Lesko, a town up the Roef River, one of the Roam’s tributaries?”

The company in Lesko had conducted a trade in copper coins with the Jean Company here in Kerube.

But the copper coin trade had a strange twist. The number of cases of coin that had been imported did not match the number exported.

Lawrence remained ignorant, but Col, whose relish in devouring the bread was enough to make even Eve’s eyes narrow in laughter, seemed to realize the reason.

As there was no need to know the answer immediately, Lawrence still had not asked, but if it came to his inability to solve the riddle by himself, one could hardly fail to be frustrated.

“Indeed. I believe it was called the Debau Company. A scenic place where they held the mining rights to Lesko in an iron fist.”

“And for this town, they mainly dealt with the Jean Company, yes?”

“Oh ho. I’d love to know where you picked up that little tidbit. You’re quite well informed.” Eve popped a bit of bread dipped in goat’s milk into her mouth.

Lawrence watched this and realized that he could have probably brought Holo along.

Such a delicious dish would doubtless have turned her attitude toward conciliatory.

“Well informed about the Debau Company in Lesko and the church in Lenos that was so quarrelsome about our furs. And you know the Jean Company here in this town that makes the copper goods trade its cornerstone. The Debau Company and the Jean Company should be on rather good terms.”

“And what would be the reason for that?” Lawrence immediately asked, at which Eve pulled one corner of her lips up in a smirk.

Col noticed this and looked up.

“Apologies. I meant nothing by it,” Eve said, looking down and brushing his mouth with her hand. She then gave Lawrence a sidelong glance. “My impression is that you’re a reasonably cautious merchant. So why are you so concerned about this foolishness?”

Merchants, in general, asked questions only when they already knew the gist of the answer.

Eve smiled calmly, though she seemed as if she was enjoying herself a great deal.

“As I’m sure you’ve guessed, my companion was born in the north,” answered Lawrence.

Eve’s mouth was hidden behind the cup she brought to her lips, her face seeming to say, “I’ll bet she was.” “I doubt you’d pursue such irrational folly unless it was for that fetching young lady of yours.”

“I don’t know about that.” Frustratingly, Lawrence could not help making an excuse.

Eve only smiled with the corners of her eyes and did not press her attack. “Well, if the body of a god once revered in her homeland is being sold off for mere coin, I don’t suppose she can simply stand there and let it happen. But if that’s the case, there’s something that bothers me.”

“And that is?”

Her cup still at her lips, Eve looked at Lawrence with upturned eyes.

Her delighted manner made her seem like a merchant who had discovered her opponent’s weakness and was preparing to beat his prices down.

“You’re a merchant who buys with coin, are you not? So are you your companion’s ally or her enemy? Are you righteous? Or…are you evil?”

Col froze, suddenly surprised.

It was true—Lawrence was a merchant who made money and dealt with goods on those terms.

Which put him in the same class as those who were attempting to buy the bones of a wolf that was said to have been a god and to put them to who knew what use. Merchants opened all doors with the key of coin.

If this talk of the wolf bone was true and if they managed to discover its whereabouts, Lawrence would surely put his merchant’s skills to use in recovering it.

And when he did, what would Holo and Col think of that?

In such a case, was Lawrence their ally? Or was the act itself inherently evil or inherently good?

Lawrence put the goat’s milk to his lips before answering.

“It’s no sin to buy goods with money. What’s often evil is buying things that are not mere goods.”

“Meaning?”

“If I were to buy the bone in an attempt to gain influence or power or to attract her attention to me, then she would surely loathe me. But money is after all a tool for purchasing goods. It only becomes evil when it’s used to buy other things, like an ax used as a weapon rather than to cut wood. And my companion knows that.”

Eve narrowed her eyes, her lips curling still further.

Merchants who dealt with all things in terms of money were often asked about the virtue of such a life.

A merchant’s status was reckoned based on how they were able to answer when such a question was put to them.

The quality of one’s sense of justice was the measure of a person; placed on a scale, it would balance against his trustworthiness.

It was not certain whether Eve believed it to quite that degree, but the idea was clearly at least part of her calculations.

She smiled grimly upon hearing Lawrence’s answer, and her expression suddenly softened as she thrust out the cup she held in her hand. “Well, you’re the sort I’d want to do business with. Sorry for asking such strange questions.”

Lawrence, too, relaxed his uninjured left cheek and raised his own cup in answer to Eve’s.

She barely avoided touching her cup to his, a technique normally used to avoid damaging expensive silver chalices. Her use of the technique showed that she felt the occasion was worthy of fine silver.

“I’ve said before, I envy you and your companion. I’ve never felt that so much as I do now.”

“I shall take that as a point of pride.”

Eve’s shoulders shook with her voiceless laugh.

Her gaze shifted from Lawrence to Col, and her merchant’s face returned as she spoke. “I understand that you’re not Kraft Lawrence’s apprentice, and I must tell you, from the depths of my heart, that I think that’s a waste.”

Col blinked rapidly at the words, then looked down, troubled.

Even as he laughed, Lawrence thought it a shame.

Col’s consternation meant that he could not even entertain Eve’s suggestion.

Eve seemed to understand that, too, and she closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she was looking at Lawrence. “You probably know this, but the news of the Debau Company searching for the wolf bone is no hundred-lumione tale. If you bungle things, you’ll learn just how cheap a human life can be. And yet I trust my merchant’s instincts, and I’m thinking of trusting you just as much.”

Lawrence swirled his cup around, then brought its contents slowly to his lips.

If he failed to make a grand gesture here, Holo would surely be angry with him.

“I’ve chosen life over wealth. But I value my companion still more than my life, so I have expectations of my own.”

His true feelings were out now in this dialogue of life and death with Eve.

Eve bared her teeth in a smile, much like when Holo smiled in her wolf form. “Perhaps it’s not so bad to chase after a treasure map’s treasure once in a while. Fine, then. Your goal’s to draw out information from the Debau Company and their Jean Company confederates, yes? I’ll write you a letter of introduction to the Jean Company. After that”—Eve closed one eye and cocked her head in what must have been her way of expressing confidence—“it’ll all depend on your wits.”

In that moment, he could have fallen for her. Though Lawrence knew if he ever admitted it to Holo, she would tear his throat out, it was nonetheless true.

Eve was a merchant’s merchant.

She had perfect control over her facial expressions and knew exactly what information they conveyed.

Lawrence drooped his head respectfully.

He understood now what sort of merchant one had to be to walk the path of gold.

Eve trimmed a piece of high-quality sheepskin parchment, wrote the letter, then sprinkled sand on the wet ink to dry it. As she waited for it to set, she readied horsetail twine and red sealing wax.

Confirming that the ink was dry, she rolled the parchment, sealed it with molten wax, and secured it with a length of the twine. The letter was complete.

It cost enough to prepare such a thing that despite it being but a single letter, no merchant could ignore it.

Eve said that she hoped to do business with Lawrence again sometime, and he felt as though he could believe her.

“If all goes well, I’ll depart this town just after midday tomorrow. I’ll be heading south by sea, bidding this cold country farewell for a while.”

“I’ll see you off by way of thanks, then. It may be my last time to see you before you’re quite the merchant prince.”

As Lawrence lightly held the proffered letter up, Eve nodded with a bitter smile. “I’ll be resting up for the journey today. If you come in the evening, you should be able to enjoy the food the servant prepares.”

“And if I come while the sun’s up?”

Eve’s smile was equivalent to a normal person’s expression of surprise.

Her smile hardened for a moment, but at length she folded her arms and sighed. “If I’m the only one in the house…yes, well. Perhaps I shall treat you to a demonstration of my skill.”

Back in Lenos, the first time Lawrence had properly exchanged words with Eve, she had claimed to have confidence in her own charm.

And now it seemed that was no lie.

Eve spoke in a soft tone entirely worthy of the nobility she had once been, its hoarse, aristocratic timbre tickling Lawrence’s ear.

Col gaped at Eve, his mouth wide open.

When she acted like that, it was easy to believe she had once been a noblewoman.

“Pork and beef may not be the only things getting cooked. I’ll need to be careful.”

“Heh. Well, if your companion’s mood has improved, all three of you should come.”

“We shall. Thank you for the letter,” Lawrence answered. Eve nodded and gave a little wave, then slowly closed the door.

No merchant ever waved to their counterpart upon parting. The gesture must have been directed at Col, who was still diagonally back from Lawrence.

Lawrence carefully tucked the letter into his coat, then glanced back.

Perhaps not surprisingly, he saw Col looking somewhat wistfully at the now-closed door.

“She’s quite an interesting person, eh?” asked Lawrence as he began walking, which brought Col back to the present, and he hastened to follow behind.

“Um…y-yes, she is…”

“Still, she’s the one who gave me this,” admitted Lawrence, pointing to the cheek where Col’s special salve had been applied. Col seemed not to understand what Lawrence meant.

Finally the words’ meaning penetrated his head, and Col looked back at the house with disbelief on his face.

“We had a bit of a quarrel, and she struck me with a hatchet handle.”

“…I…see…”

“She’s got an unexpected side to her, and that’s why you can’t let your guard down. Just as the scarf around her head conceals her beauty, her beauty conceals something quite terrible.”

Col’s eyebrows arched up. Perhaps he just could not quite grasp what Lawrence was saying.

“You saw Holo’s anger last night, didn’t you? The truth is, Eve nearly killed me.”

“Wha—!” Col raised his voice in surprise.

It was true that upon her first meeting with Col, Eve had appeared very kind indeed, which no doubt made it difficult to imagine that she had enough shrewd, coolheaded nerve to put any bandit to shame.

Although Lawrence was trying to teach Col that people often had hidden sides and that he had to keep his wits about him, Col’s face was very serious, and he sank into silence.

He was a good, honest lad, and for him to doubt anyone at all was not in his nature.

Lawrence was musing upon this when Col suddenly looked up at him with such a look of extreme consternation on his face that Lawrence couldn’t help but ask, “What’s the matter?”

Evidently, Col was often like this.

He was clever, but as long as he had no control over his facial expressions and the words he spoke, he would never make a good merchant.

Instead, he would make an excellent member of the clergy, so it wasn’t really a problem.

“It’s true, then…that to survive in the world, one must be like her…,” said Col, head drooping in frustration.

He seemed to accuse himself, like a young knight cursing his lack of effort upon losing a joust.

But Lawrence did not know why Col was so affected.

How was his near murder at Eve’s hands connected to surviving in the world?

Maybe it was the fact that he had been forced to find a way to survive despite the threat to his life.

Lawrence was mulling it over, but then Col resumed speaking, and he decided to listen to the boy.

“Of course, I don’t just accept the teachings of the Church, either, and even back in the village there were hard times…and naturally I think that sometimes you can’t just look at one thing, and even I know the world is an unforgiving place. But still…”

As he walked, Col looked at his feet.

By contrast, Lawrence’s gaze was turned up to the clear sky.

Such was the extent to which he had no idea what Col was saying.

“Look—” Lawrence was about to try to get the story straight when Col suddenly looked up.

“B-but, I don’t—I don’t think you’re in the wrong, Mr. Lawrence!”

Lawrence could not help but widen his eyes at the boy’s urgent ferocity.

“…Qu-quite. I was simply going to say that I have no idea what you’re talking about and perhaps ask you to clarify.”

At this, Col’s face went suddenly blank, and he then reddened and looked down.

Lawrence scratched his head, tilting it in confusion.

He did not understand.

He did not understand, but as Col seemed not to want to discuss the matter, Lawrence decided to change the subject.

“In any case, we should return to the inn before we make our way to the Jean Company.”

Col nodded silently in response to Lawrence’s words.

“So that’s what he said.”

Claiming that if she removed the blanket, the smell from the salve that still lingered on her body would escape and cause her nose to fall off, Holo remained under it with only her face exposed. “Is that so?”

“Would you have understood what he was on about?”

Once Lawrence had returned to the room, the dozing Holo soon awoke. Whereupon she sat up like usual, her head cocked in a queer expression. She seemed physically uncomfortable, and Lawrence soon realized the reason.

Despite not being able to even properly sit up in the morning, the pain she’d felt then had disappeared so thoroughly she could barely remember it.

“That’s quite the medicine,” she said.

Thus it was that Holo decided to come along on the visit to the Jean Company.

However, they couldn’t very well go there immediately. She smelled so bad that she—along with Lawrence—would have to bathe first.

Their current topic of conversation, Col, had gone downstairs to arrange the hot water.

“I suppose I cannot blame you for failing to understand. ’Twould be like asking a butcher about fish,” said Holo, sitting atop a pillow as she yawned hugely.

Lawrence considered heaving another sigh at being made fun of yet again, but at this point, he had no intention of putting on airs and so capitulated quickly.

“At this point, I’ll readily admit that I’m the slow one. But having admitted that doesn’t suddenly give me any new insight. I still don’t understand.”

But even when Lawrence raised the white flag, Holo simply stared, tears welling up in her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Lawrence asked, whereupon a bitter smile slowly appeared on her face.

“Heh. Perhaps it is I who’s the unusually kind one.” She twitched one ear.

“What do you mean?”

“When you act so humble, I cannot very well laugh at your clumsiness.”

“…”

Regardless of how he should have answered, Holo seemed satisfied with the pained way he bobbed his head.

She grinned her usual malicious grin, showing her teeth. “Still, I suppose it would be hard for you to understand, as you already know the truth of the matter. Can you really not imagine what an outsider might think, watching what transpired between you and that vixen?”

Her malicious grin offered a clue to the correct interpretation of her statement. Merchants turned a profit based on their ability to correctly read people’s dispositions; thus Lawrence could not refuse this challenge.

Above all, the direction of the correct interpretation had already been made clear.

Lawrence considered his conversation with Eve from Col’s perspective.

She had struck him with a hatchet handle and even threatened his life, which Holo had raged at Eve for with terrible fury—and when Col had heard about this, he seemed deeply troubled, blushing scarlet with embarrassment.

“Oh.” A possibility occurred to Lawrence, a bitter taste suffusing his mouth.

Yet the bitterness was not distasteful; it was akin to a tart ale.

A bitterness at which he couldn’t help laughing.

“Heh. You’re quite the lucky one, eh?” asked Holo, pleased.

Her smile came from the fact that she knew full well that Col’s misunderstanding would never come to pass.

Lawrence brought his hand to his head again and heaved a sigh. He supposed that such misunderstandings did happen from time to time, but still—to think that he should find himself in a position to be thus miscomprehended! He couldn’t help but smile ruefully at himself.

“He thinks that I had an affair with Eve, which ended in a lovers’ quarrel. I never would’ve imagined it. That’s why he was going on about not thinking I was ‘in the wrong.’”

He wanted to say something about having an affair with Holo, but he was quite sure he would be risking his life to make such a joke.

“That vixen’s a female, and I’m a female, and you’re a male. If we’re speaking of conflicts that have come to blows, there can really be only one answer, can there not? That all of this fuss was actually over nothing more than gold is stranger by far. My price was sixty of those golden pieces, was it not? Honestly, I will never understand the human world,” declared Holo, exasperated.

And indeed, when Lawrence thought back on how he had struggled for her sake, he felt extremely ill at ease.

But she was still Holo, the Wisewolf of Yoitsu.

And she’d long since seen right through him.

“Still, your actions were the least understandable of all. Coming to see me off, of all things—what a total, utter fool,” said Holo, burying her amused face in her pillow.

And yet her eyes never left Lawrence.

Given her words and her actions, Lawrence could hardly be angry with her, nor could he look away.

His shoulders slumped as if to accentuate his defeat, and he lightly stroked Holo’s cheek.

“Is that all?” she asked quietly under his hand, closing one eye and twitching her ears happily.

Lawrence braced himself for a joke of some kind but then realized that Holo would surely be angry if he took her that way.

And yet he could not help looking around the room a little bit, despite knowing full well that nobody else was there.

He took a deep breath.

And then, just like in Lenos, he brought his face closer to Holo.

However, unlike in Lenos, just when he was so close to Holo that he could count the hairs of her eyebrows, there was a sudden knock at the door, at which Lawrence jumped in surprise.

“I brought the hot water!” echoed Col’s voice throughout the room.

He held the door open with his back as he carried the washtub in. It had to be heavy, and the steam that rose from it had collected on his face, covering it in droplets of water. There was no question the boy had labored mightily on Lawrence and Holo’s behalf.

What reason could there be for him to be angry at such a boy?

Still standing beside the bed, Lawrence smiled benevolently. “Good job,” he complimented.

Still, an unpleasant sweat ran down his back.

The moment the knock on the door had come, Holo had made a truly vicious expression.

Had her ears been twitching because she had heard Col’s approaching footsteps?

“What’s the matter?” Col asked.

While Lawrence’s serene expression had been perfect, the mood in the room could not be changed so quickly.

Col’s face looked a bit doubtful, but Lawrence feigned ignorance as best he could.

Holo was probably grinning atop her pillow behind him.

But the most irritating part of all of this was not Holo’s enjoyment of Lawrence having blundered into the trap she’d set for him.

Lawrence put his hand to his left cheek, pretending to scratch an itch.

“I had them make it quite hot, so if it’s too warm, I’ll fetch some cold water,” said Col, putting down the tub and placing two washcloths in it.

How much more pleasant travel would be, Lawrence mused, if he had an apprentice as thoughtful as Col.

“I understand. Thank you, Col.”

“No, I’m the one who forced myself along on your journey. This is the least I can do.”

His guileless smile made Lawrence muse that it would not be a bad idea to treat him to something tasty for dinner.

If Holo were to give Lawrence the same treatment, he reckoned he would be bankrupt within a month.

“Well, then, I shall help myself to the hot water straightaway. I can hardly believe how well this salve worked, but still, ’tis rather hard on my poor nose,” said Holo as she climbed out of bed, at which Col seemed taken aback.

It appeared he truly did not find the odor of the salve unpleasant at all.

“Aye, ’tis good and hot. I’ll douse myself in it before it turns lukewarm.”

Holo plunged her hand into the tub and swirled the water around. It was still steaming energetically, but because the room was rather cold, the water was probably not as hot as it seemed.

“Ah, yes. If you’re not careful, you’ll catch cold,” said Lawrence, and Holo took one of the washcloths, wrung it out, and lightly tossed it in his direction.

Catching it, he felt its damp warmth. Holo was right; it would be best to wipe himself clean sooner rather than later.

As the thought occurred to Lawrence, he went to remove the cloth from his right cheek, when he noticed Col, a short distance away, looking down uncomfortably.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, though there was no need to, as Col seemed to have mustered the courage to speak.

“E-er, I’ll just…be outside,” he said, finishing his words with a forced smile.

He was obviously apprehensive about something.

As he was going out into the hall, he even gave Lawrence a significant look, as though Col had been entrusted with a deep and serious secret. Lawrence now knew all too well what the boy was surely thinking.

At the klunk of the closing door, Lawrence looked at Holo, who was wringing the other washcloth out with a serious expression.

“If he’s in such a state, your talk with the vixen must have been friendly indeed.”

The reasoning behind Col’s serious expression went something like this.

For Col to have mistaken Lawrence and Eve’s past conflict as a lovers’ quarrel, Lawrence and Eve must have appeared to be quite close.

However, Lawrence knew full well that if he were to actually be involved with Eve, it would only amount to a loss for him.

“He looked at me like he was promising to keep my secret forever.”

Holo glanced up, her face softening. “Heh-heh-heh. When he looked at me, it was as though he felt some deep pity.” Squatting down, she brought her knees together and rested her chin atop them. “You’d have more charm if you were a bit more like him.”

Not immediately replying to the statement, Lawrence peeled the cloth from his face.

A ginger touch to his cheek revealed that the swelling had gone down considerably, and he felt essentially no pain.

The medicine had been so effective that he found himself wondering if there might be a profit in it somewhere.

“Well, you know what they say—a bit of vermilion turns everything red. I’ve spent so much time around you that all my charm’s gone.”

Lawrence wiped his cheek vigorously with the washcloth. Wiping his face with a cloth soaked in hot water was an indescribably pleasant sensation.

Holo followed his example, scrubbing her neck with the wrung-out washcloth and twitching her ears.

She seemed a bit surprised upon looking at the color of the cloth after giving her neck a once-over.

“’Tis true, and whoever said a bit of vermilion turns all red was wise indeed. After all, your face is always red.”

Lawrence wiped his face again with what portion of the washcloth was free of the salve, and once he was clean, looked at Holo. “Not so much recently, though, no?”

“And whose mouth would say so?” inquired Holo, seemingly taken aback. Though he knew he was being provoked, Lawrence could not help but sulk a bit.

But when he saw Holo’s mouth curl into a smile, he knew he had fallen into a snare.

“You claim otherwise, then? Well, since that boy’s so considerately left us alone…,” said Holo, rinsing her washcloth in the tub and wringing it clean before standing up.

Then she tossed the cloth at Lawrence and quickly stripped off the robe that covered her upper body.

Caught unawares, Lawrence was unavoidably startled.

Holo turned to him and put a hand on her shoulder. “Care to wash my back?” she offered flirtatiously.

While Holo thought nothing of showing her naked body, she was aware that the experience was different for Lawrence.

It was outrageous for her to capitalize on his sense of propriety.

Lawrence gave that excuse to his flustering, then balled up the washcloth and tossed it back at Holo.

The medicine Col made worked miraculously well.

While Holo still felt a bit shy of recovered, given how little time she’d had the salve on, it was almost unbelievably effective.

The swelling in Lawrence’s face was mostly gone, as well.

But since Holo had reached out and pinched his cheek, asking, “And just how are you feeling?” he could not deny that the redness had increased.

He thought he was going to see stars, but while she was being awfully spiteful, Holo also seemed frustrated and angry, so he made no counterattack.

Evidently, she could not stomach his tossing the washcloth back at her.

This didn’t seem to be an act, so she must have actually wanted him to wash her back.

From that perspective, he was the one in the wrong, and so Lawrence felt himself to be in a difficult place.

“So, what’s this? The trading company you’re about to visit is involved in some foolish scheme?”

They had ventured out along the most obvious street and were headed for the riverside marketplace. A marketplace implied stalls, and Lawrence had been prepared for Holo’s begging.

But he had not imagined that she would bolt for the very first stall she sniffed.

He followed her with his eyes, feeling something like a faint headache, and saw that the stall had heated stones atop of which sea snails sizzled and frothed as they were cooked in their shells.

“We’re going to figure out whether they are scheming, but according to Eve, there’s a good possibility that they are.”

Whether or not Holo was actually listening to him, her eyes shone as she wordlessly prodded him.

As she wasn’t going to take no for an answer, Lawrence decided to avoid a pointless struggle.

The shopkeeper was busily shaving skewers with a knife, and when Lawrence presented him with a blackened copper coin, he adroitly took a skewer and extracted the snail meat from a shell with it, and in no time at all, he had three snails skewered.

Lawrence ordered three servings of the same.

Just as he was thinking it was rather cheap, it turned out the salt that gave the shellfish their delightful flavor cost extra.

Lawrence grinned and gave some choice words of complaint to the shrewd shopkeeper, then asked where he could find the Jean Company.

He had to get his information fee’s worth.

“Even if we go, will they really talk to us?” asked Col after taking one of the skewers and giving his thanks.

Naturally, Lawrence had already cleared up the boy’s misunderstanding about Eve.

“That’s just as Eve said. It’ll depend on my skill.”

“I do not like our chances,” mocked Holo, but given Col’s nervous smile, Lawrence decided to play the clown.

“Still, though,” continued Holo as she looked at the opposite side of the river, “how different things can be, even in the same city.”

The inn in which Lawrence and company were staying was situated at the mouth of the Roam River, on the north side of the port town of Kerube, which was divided into north and south by the river that ran through it.

The marketplace and grander buildings were unsurprisingly concentrated along the river’s edges, and while they were moderately lively, this was only in comparison with the inn’s neighborhood.

A bit past the wide avenue that ran along the river was the strikingly pebbled riverbank itself. Since this was the river’s mouth, the bank was quite broad, with the water some distance away. Looking to the right, there was the sea, and even Lawrence’s nose could smell the salt. Across the river was the south side of the town, and before it, constructed on the river’s great delta, was the largest marketplace in the great port town of Kerube.

As to the question of which of the town’s three sections was the liveliest, it went without saying that it was the delta. And as to where the grandest buildings were, they were in the south.

The north side of the town, where Lawrence and his companions were, seemed rather drab by comparison.

Owing to the haze of distance, it was difficult to make out the number of ships berthed in the southern harbor and the amount of goods piled in the delta marketplace, but it was clear that across the river there was more of everything.

It sometimes happened that different places within a town were possessed of entirely different ambiences. And when that town was divided by a river, it might well seem like two separate towns entirely.

“If we cross over, there should be a Rowen Trade Guild house.”

“That was where merchants from your hometown all gather, aye?”

“Yes. However, since the place has a sort of branch office in the delta marketplace, I’ve never actually been to the central house.”

Lawrence pointed to the delta town that lay right where the river met the sea.

While the term town might not have been precisely accurate, to a merchant the place was a city unto itself.

Even from this distance, the overcrowding of the salt wind–grayed two- and three-story buildings there was obvious.

It felt like the clamor of the marketplace might be audible at any moment should the wind pick it up and carry it over the river.

If Holo lowered her hood and listened, she would probably have been able to make out the bustle.

“Seems rather more lively over there. Shall we go and see?”

“I imagine you’re only interested in the food,” said Lawrence, eliciting a childish scowl from Holo.

It had a purposefulness to it, as though Holo was saying she was wholly confident she would be able to get him to take her later anyway.

Lawrence’s shoulders slumped as if admitting he knew she was right, and he started walking but suddenly stopped.

This was because Col had been quiet for some time. He was staring out at the shoal.

“What’s wrong?”

Col spun around in response to Lawrence’s question. “Ah, er…nothing…”

“Nothing?” queried Holo, plucking Col’s skewer away and eating one of the two remaining snails on it. “Lies are a poor reprisal.” She made as though to plunge her fangs into the last morsel, her eyes on Col. “Still you have nothing to say?”

Lawrence had heard that many animals treated their young severely; apparently wolves were among their number.

He couldn’t help but think it.

However, Holo was just as bad when it came to honestly saying what she wanted.

Lawrence still clearly remembered the town they had arrived at after they first met, where Holo had shown such unsightly lust for the apples there. Lately she had entirely ceased putting on such displays, but her persistent prodding of Col now was probably rooted in her memories of her past self.

“Uh…um…” But Col was not only young, he was also a boy. “I’d like to go to the delta.”

Unlike Holo, he looked smartly up at Lawrence when he said so, which was rather splendid.

Lawrence took the skewer out of Holo’s hand and gave it back to Col. He added, “He’s better at this than you,” to Holo and got a kick for his trouble. “You’re not my apprentice, so I plan to fully repay you for the salve you made for us. Your preparedness was audacious.”

Strange words, but the phrase fit Col perfectly.

Maybe it was just his basic honesty or his personality, but left alone, he seemed likely to become more apprentice-like than a real apprentice.

But Lawrence knew the world did not always reward such generosity, and that knowledge made him worry for the boy. If he wanted to take advantage of Col, how easy it would have been.

“…I understand,” Col replied with a confused smile.

He probably saw that Lawrence and Holo were worried, hence his answer.

Such things happened all the time in comical tales.

A master would set his faithful, obedient slave free, saying, “Go now, live your life free—you need no longer serve anyone.” And the slave would then faithfully keep his master’s order, living the rest of his life without ever serving another.

So was the slave who kept his master’s last order until the very end truly free?

Col’s confused smile may well have come from him imagining himself the same as the slave in the tale.

“However, let me just say this. It will not be right away. Merchants are a hasty lot, and if I don’t take care of this business first, I’ll be useless.”

“I understand. But…,” said Col, scratching his head bashfully. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

Lawrence let himself imagine what it would be like if Holo were so honest, but he didn’t look at her.

He could see her well enough in the corner of his field of view with her unamused smile.

“I’ve come to this town three times, but the truth is, I’ve never been to the delta,” said Col.

“Because of the ferryman’s fee?”

Col nodded.

If he couldn’t afford the ferryman’s fee to get to the delta, Lawrence wanted to know just how he had managed to cross the Roam River.

Given Col’s persistence, he might well have bound his clothes about his head and simply swum across.

“So, I’ve never been to the south side, but what about you?” Lawrence asked as the three of them walked, once Col had finished eating his shellfish.

“The south side is…The town is very beautiful there.”

The hesitation in the boy’s statement came as he looked around briefly, then lowered his voice.

It was true, then—even a glance at the riverbanks made the difference between the two halves very clear.

It was probably related to pagans being more numerous on the north side, while the south had more merchants and orthodox church members.

Among merchants, the ones from the southern side were far wealthier, and money tended to gather in places where there was already concentrated wealth.

“But there is more almsgiving on this side,” said Col.

“Is that so? I’d heard that the north side had more people from the north country, but still.”

“I believe so. There are many people here who were born in Roef. But even if that weren’t so, I have the feeling that people on this side are simply kinder.”

Lawrence scratched the tip of his nose and thought about how to reply.

The conflict between north and south was as delicate a subject as the conflict between wolves and humans.

“That’s because the harsher the climate, the kinder the people who live there,” Lawrence answered, at which Col smiled widely.

Though Col was broad-minded enough to travel alone into the south to study Church law, he still took innocent pleasure in hearing northern people favorably compared to southerners.

Lawrence was struck anew by the fact and felt as if he could understand why the biggest center of commerce in the city was situated on the river delta.

It was a buffer zone between the north and the south.

Alternatively, it might serve as neutral territory.

“But—” Col spoke up as Lawrence continued walking and looking out at the delta. “The people in the south always seem very happy,” he said considerately.

Lawrence was a bit surprised, and his expression slowly shifted to a smile. “It’s easier to make wine in warm weather, after all.”

“Oh, I see.”

There was no mistaking that given a few years, Col would turn into a pleasant young man.

Lawrence could think of nothing that would refute the obvious prediction.

Neither, he was sure, could Holo.

As they walked, she smiled happily and held Col’s hand, which may well have been an investment on her part.

The itchy notion was both amusing and a source of jealousy, and just as it occurred to Lawrence, Holo shot him a sidelong glance from beneath her hood.

“If you dally too long, I may just switch over,” her malicious smile said.

Lawrence stroked his beard and sighed.

The sigh came instead of the words he’d very nearly spoken, only to stop short in his throat.

And here I hadn’t planned on giving more bait to a fish I’d already hooked.

He had wanted to give Holo that retort but thought better of it.

Had he indulged in this game, there was a real danger he would actually lose to Col.

Wondering what she could possibly do with such a young lad, Lawrence took a deep breath of the cold air and laughed silently to himself.