Spice and Wolf - Volume 8 - Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

As Lawrence finished paying the tavern bill, Col and Holo amused themselves by trying to step on each other’s feet.

Col stopped to look up at Lawrence, and Holo mercilessly took the opportunity to slam her foot down on Col’s.

“I win!” she exclaimed proudly while Col humbly admitted, “I suppose I lost,” making it difficult to tell exactly who was the child.

Of course, it is said the older one gets, the more one returns to childhood, and perhaps that was not wrong.

“Now, then,” said Lawrence, and Col and Holo, looking almost like twins thanks to their similar heights, both turned back to him. “You’ve memorized your roles, then?”

“Yes!”

“Aye.”

Col’s answer was the swifter.

Lawrence had a sudden vision of what he must have looked like as a student in the capital of learning, Aquent.

By contrast, Holo’s answer was curt and rude, and she yawned loudly.

“I’m a little nervous,” confessed Col.

“Don’t worry. If there’s one piece of advice I can give, it’s that the secret to telling a lie is telling yourself that depending on how you think about it, it’s actually the truth. That way you’re not actually lying,” Lawrence advised in response to Col’s uncertain smile.

“Er…no, I’m all right. I’ll make sure to gather all the stories.”

The boy seemed like a young knight bracing himself for his first battle. Lawrence patted his shoulder. “I’m sure you will,” he added.

To Lawrence’s eye, Col would mature to match as much responsibility as he was given.

He was not a mere slate-toting, chalk-dusted boy from Aquent.

He possessed the practical skills he had managed to gather after being deceived, expelled, and forced to travel.

Lawrence said he was sure Col would perform well, and it was no lie.

“So, we’ll meet again in the evening.”

“Yes.” Col nodded, his expression entirely different from when he had been trying to step on Holo’s feet, and walked off boldly.

Though his receding form was small, it bore a certain dignity.

Lawrence barely had time to wonder what his own back would have looked like at that age when he felt a tug at his sleeve.

It was Holo, and though she was hardly a working woman trying to lure in a customer, somehow she seemed even more vicious than that.

“So, shall I be off then, too?”

“Er, yes.”

Holo strode off immediately, then looked back at Lawrence, whose feet were a bit slower. “Hmm?” she queried.

She was so fond of Col, and yet when it came time to put him through hardship, she was happy to do so.

Or was it that she simply thought that highly of him?

Lawrence didn’t think poorly of the boy himself, but he found it harder to trust so completely.

“Will you really be all right on your own?” Lawrence could not prevent himself from asking.

They were on their way to the landing for the ferry headed to the south side of the town.

Since their collective had the advantage of containing three people, it would have been the height of stupidity to move in a group, so they had decided to split up to gather information.

Col would be posing as a traveling beggar and head to the north side to find out what the other beggars had to say about the Jean Company.

Holo would pretend to be a nun journeying north and head for the south-side church to determine its influence in the upper regions of the Roef and Roam Rivers.

And Lawrence would make for the Rowan Trade Guild branch in the delta marketplace to see how the Jean Company’s business and the wolf remains were connected.

Both Holo and Col were more capable than he was, so there was probably no need for concern.

But Holo, with her ears and tail, was the personification of pagan faith.

Despite her being the sharpest talker and thinker of all of them, Lawrence was still uneasy at the prospect of letting her go alone.

“Perhaps—perhaps I should go with you—”

Holo was a few steps ahead of Lawrence as she began walking, cutting through the crowd.

When she looked back at him, he stopped short of continuing his statement.

“So ’tis well and good for the boy Col to go off on his own, but you haven’t the conviction to let me go alone?” Her amber eyes were narrowed and flashed red.

Past her, Lawrence could see the landing for the ferry, livelier than its northbound counterpart.

“That’s not what I meant, but…”

“Aye, and what did you mean?”

Even if he could rationalize this or that aspect of his worry for Holo, at its core the concern was irrational.

But more importantly, Holo was angry.

“I’m sorry,” he answered, and Holo promptly poked him in the chest.

“You fool.”

“—?”

Holo glared at him, angrier every moment, then suddenly turned away indignantly.

Lawrence rubbed the spot on his chest she had inexplicably prodded, and after a moment, Holo sighed and looked back at him. “You truly are a terribly clumsy ruler.”

“Ruler?”

“A terribly clumsy one, yes,” she repeated, and Lawrence scratched his head. “Firstly, I haven’t the faintest notion why you wouldn’t let me go alone in this situation.”

As ever, Lawrence did not understand what she was talking about. “Well, I mean…just, if something were to happen…”

“Aye, and the same holds true for Col. Listen, you—”

“A-all right…” Lawrence straightened himself in response to Holo’s sudden awkwardness, as if she were trying to articulate something difficult to express.

Holo turned her gaze from the riverbank back to Lawrence, and he found her countenance accusatory.

If his memory served, she was trying to hide her embarrassment over something.

“You’re the general awaiting my report, are you not? And Col and I are your hands. So if you’ll only put us each to hard use, you’d better hold our reins.”

Lawrence could see the ferry drift into view, approaching the dock as it crossed the busy river.

At the same time, he had a vague sense of what Holo meant. “Because success and wanting me to praise you are the same?”

Holo made a pained expression and looked away. So that had to be it.

And it was probably true.

He had but to praise Holo if she were more successful than Col and console her if she failed.

But if he helped Holo with her duty, Col would be the only one praised or consoled.

She was right about that, Lawrence knew, but there was still something he did not understand—and that was the reason why Holo, whose embarrassment was no act, would tell him this.

The ferry had arrived at the pier, but owing to the crowd, they had to wait in line.

Holo looked like she was making a great effort not to let her ears and tail move about too much beneath her robe. “You wish to have a shop of your own someday, do you not? If so, you’ve much to learn about using others,” she said.

“Ah—” Lawrence couldn’t help but cover his mouth.

She was right.

If he had a shop, he would have to employ other people.

Sometimes he would need to control others, and other times he would require their loyalty.

And though Lawrence was accustomed to doing so one-on-one, when it came to larger groups of people, he had never even thought about it.

“And yet you dare to take hold of my reins?” Holo put a hand on her hip and cocked her head in mock disbelief.

Lawrence surrendered, though he kept his eye on the line, which had started to move. “That’s what’s so charming about me, right?” he asked with a taciturn mien, which did not appear to give Holo any great pleasure, and she replied with her head still cocked.

“Perhaps.”

“Well, then, I’m counting on you.”

“I can still see the worry in your face, but I shall take your words for what they’re worth.”

Lawrence paid the ferryman, explaining the circumstances and giving him enough for the return trip.

“Some wheat bread would be nice for dinner.”

“If you succeed, yes,” said Lawrence.

At this, Holo left him with a smile, and the hem of her robe whirled as she hopped aboard the ferry.

The town of Kerube was divided north from south by the river, and there was no church on the north side.

That was evidence that most pagans lived on the north side, while Church adherents were more prevalent on the south side. Historically, this evidently came from the fact that orthodox merchants tended to come up from the south and thus bought land and settled on the south side of the town.

But as the north and south sides became more distinct, it became tempting to want to look at the town as a microcosm of the world.

On the north side, building heights and street widths were highly varied, while on the south side they were precisely regulated, the neat rows of buildings lining the streets. Lawrence was sure there were no bored-looking mules yawning in front of loading docks on the south side.

It was hard to tell from the north side, but from the delta marketplace, he could clearly see the towering spire that the south-side church had collected sufficient tithes to build, its height all too obviously reaching for the heavens, and within it, there in the closest place in the town to God, hung a beautiful golden bell.

Dressed as a nun, Holo was apparently going to try to collect information by claiming she was returning from the south to her homeland in the north, and asking whether her town was still under pagan control. Lawrence had carefully explained to her what sorts of questions Church people were likely to ask her, but even without that advice, Holo was more than quick tongued enough to get the information they needed.

Still, she and Lawrence had always stayed together when investigating things or formulating plans in the past, and sending her off to do it alone was a strange sensation.

Lawrence would undoubtedly feel the same way when he got a shop and hired people to help him.

But then it suddenly occurred to him to wonder if, when that time came, Holo would be there.

“…”

Lawrence scratched his head and sighed.

If that was the sort of thing he was worried about, then perhaps she should be the one concerned about leaving him alone, he was sure she would say.

Lawrence smiled to himself, watching Holo cross the river along with all the other passengers before eventually turning his back and walking away.

His destination was the delta marketplace branch of the Rowen Trade Guild.

He was not crossing the river with Holo and visiting the main office for the simple reason that the people with whom he was acquainted were not there.

In keeping with the delta marketplace’s status as a crucial trade link between the north and south sides of the town, every trade guild kept an office there to connect with traveling comrades and collect information on goods. Since buildings were regulated, guilds could not use them to compete with one another the way they did in town, but they were still constructed to best show off each guild’s specialties. Lawrence could look at each one and guess which trade guild it represented.

Dozens or hundreds of merchants were attached to each trade house, all desperately competing with one another, and when Lawrence thought of this, it seemed a wonder to him.

There was that much commerce in the world, and it had yet to run dry.

Lawrence knocked on the door of his familiar-looking guild, feeling as if he were knocking on the cabin door of a small ship afloat upon a very large sea.

“Oh, now, there’s a rare face.” There were several merchants on the first floor of the guild house, all of them dressed for travel.

“It’s been too long, Kieman.”

Within the room and directly opposite the door sat the master of the branch. The man, Kieman, with his beautiful blond hair, had been born to trade.

His father was a prominent trader in Kerube, and thanks to that, Kieman had seen more goods from distant lands than anyone else, despite never having traveled far. His features were easily fine enough to have been a bard’s, and unlike the other merchants on the house’s first floor, who were trading wine and gossip, he bore not a single callus on his hands.

Kieman was the prototypical rich man’s son, but while it seemed that the road-dusted merchants would inevitably hate him, their trust in him was actually rather strong.

Although he was perhaps two years younger than Lawrence, unlike Lawrence, he made his living within a town.

Those who did business in a town had no need to seek skills like being able to walk all day and night without collapsing or how to do business with someone whose language they did not speak.

Kieman was seen by the traveling merchants as someone to whom they could entrust the tiny amount of temporary residence they enjoyed at the guild house.

“Indeed, it has, Kraft Lawrence. You’ve arrived this time by land, I take it?”

Perhaps no sea vessels had arrived in the past few days. “No, by ship—though it was via the river and not the sea.”

At these words, Kieman brushed his chin with the feather end of his quill pen as he looked around the room.

It was said that he had thousands of maps’ worth of knowledge of the land in his head.

Despite having met Lawrence but twice, he was searching his mind for the trade route by which Lawrence had arrived.

“I’m not on my usual route. There was some trouble in Lenos.”

“Ah, I see.”

Kieman’s smile revealed even less than Holo’s inscrutable smile.

Town merchants lived for decades in the same towns in which they were born, and in so doing, they learned all of one another’s facial tics and tells, the better to divine one another’s true intentions. As a result, town merchants were far craftier than traveling merchants. The fact of his youth made the young master of this branch office all the more imposing.

With effort, Lawrence kept his composure and produced the silver coins that were the customary offering upon visiting a trade house, then spoke.

“I saw rather an interesting show by the spring of gold.”

“Heh. An interesting show, indeed, Mr. Lawrence—most impressive. Though it’s a rather impenetrable display, even for a traveling merchant.”

Not so much as glancing at the five trenni that Lawrence placed there, Kieman leaned across the counter and smiled like a child let in on a secret.

“One never knows where the sting may be laid, even in a seemingly transparent conversation. Even now Chief Jeeta at the main office is out and about, trying to protect our coin purses.”

Of House Chief Jeeta, the man who headed the Rowen Trade Guild in Kerube, Lawrence knew nothing but his name, so there was a possibility he had been among the merchants Eve called out to.

Which would mean that despite Eve not living in Kerube and leading a company here, she was facing off against various leaders of trade guilds in the city before they could band together as a faction.

Was there any man whose chest did not swell at a tale of a young knight confronting a giant?

A feeling of envy rose up inside Lawrence, but while he might admit as much to Eve, he certainly would not to Kieman.

Kieman’s ability made him entirely untrustworthy.

“So there’s a sting, is there? From what I heard, the landowners of the north side are so many fish, flopping about on land.”

“Yes, they were caught decades ago and are long since dried out. But this year, the lack of the northern campaign has slowed the flow of gold. It seems necessity knows no law.”

If the money going to the landowners who lived on the north side was a royalty for the use of the delta marketplace, then it was probably collected as a tax.

In which case, if the traffic of goods and people slowed, it would translate directly to a loss in tax revenue.

But the reason the moneylenders would continue to profit while the debtors would be ruined whether or not they profited or took a loss was because the lenders would always be able to collect the same amount in interest.

“Perhaps only a passerby like me would imagine that making another loan to show compassion would turn out better in the future.”

Kieman accepted the five silver trenni without any particular emotion and wrote out a receipt.

For someone who kept ledgers on the comings and goings of who knew how many great sea vessels, that was all five trenni was worth.

Lawrence found himself nostalgic for the exaggerated pleasure of Jakob, the Ruvinheigen guild house master, at having received a donation of trenni.

“Not at all. Normally it would be exactly so, but unfortunately, they’re sons of men who continued to pay interest until they died, and they themselves have been paying interest since they were born. Then ten or so years ago, there was a war in the Strait of Winfiel, and over the years as they fell behind on their interest, we on the south side offered to forgive some of their debt. They’d paid enough, we said.”

“So they were stubborn.”

“Exactly so. They stubbornly paid their interest, insisting they would eventually pay back in full. For our part, if we could only expand the marketplace, it would be trivial to reclaim the interest on the debt. But they know that, and so it only makes them more stubborn. ‘We won’t let you profit from us any further,’ they say.”

Kieman shrugged as though at a loss for further words, and Lawrence quite agreed.

He felt sorry for Eve on whom this was being taken out.

Despite being fallen nobility from the kingdom of Winfiel and apparently wielding a fair amount of influence in the Roam River region, this was probably the reason behind her throwing all that away and heading south.

She had done whatever she had to do in order to climb back up and in so doing had sunk deeper and deeper into debt.

“If only they would be more rational. As it is, marriage between the north side and south side is still difficult, to say nothing of moving one’s household.”

Kieman seemed happy to speak, but it was clear it was not out of any particular favor toward Lawrence.

No doubt he imagined Lawrence to have brought the subject up out of the idle curiosity of a traveling merchant.

But he was also probably thinking that as a representative of the Rowen Trade Guild, he could not have Lawrence going around saying things that contradicted the guild’s position.

He had been so informative as a way of explaining to Lawrence that this was the guild line and to warn him that deviating from it would bring consequences.

Not understanding this would be dangerous, but having taken notice of the fact, Lawrence now imagined he could go to any trade guild and enjoy its protection as long as he fell into line.

“I see. So that means the rumor I heard might not necessarily be mistaken.”

“Rumor?”

Information gathering was of paramount importance for a trade guild man like Kieman, and Lawrence had to smile at the way this piqued his interest far more than the five trenni that were on the counter a moment ago.

Among traveling merchants, betraying this level of interest always lowered one’s status, even for a tasty rumor.

“Yes, it seems the Jean Company on the north side of town is being exploited by the powers that be there.”

Of course, this was mere speculation, but the moment Lawrence spoke it, it became truth.

Kieman’s expression hardly changed.

In fact, it changed too little.

“Might I ask…where you heard that?”

He could have purposefully played dumb, but Kieman seemed to realize that Lawrence had seen through him.

His eyes turned tense.

Lawrence now had to choose his words carefully.

He tried tossing a big rock into the pond.

“Actually, there was a strange former gentry in Lenos that I…”

“…Made a business deal with,” he meant to say, but Lawrence didn’t finish the sentence.

While Kieman’s face made it seem like he had just heard a funny story, his elbow lightly trapped Lawrence’s clothing against the counter.

His facial expression and body language were complete opposites.

“Mr. Lawrence, you seem tired from your journey. Would you care to rest yourself inside?”

The guild house had a dining room as well as beds and fireplaces for overnight stays.

Although that was not, of course, what Kieman meant.

Lawrence’s bait seemed to have caught him a bigger fish than he had expected.

“Yes, with pleasure,” he said with an accommodating smile.

Lawrence was led into what was surely Kieman’s office, where soup that was redolent with fish was brought out.

This was not the sort of talk that called for wine, nor was a sweet childish drink appropriate.

And here in a town where travelers were constantly passing through, a savory, hearty fish soup was often well received.

“So, what is your relationship to the head of the Bolan family?”

It seemed less like a question and more like an interrogation.

Kieman had not touched his own soup.

Lawrence noticed as much, and for a moment, he wondered if something suspicious had been added to the dish.

“I am a traveling merchant, so I’m obviously not her dance partner.”

“There was a disturbance. Something about furs, was it?”

The information had either just arrived today, or a contact in Lenos had taken a fast horse and delivered the news the previous day.

Lawrence had nothing to hide and so nodded, clearing his throat once.

“We tried to complete a large business deal together, but she betrayed me at the last minute. I’ve been so frustrated about the whole affair that I came down the river to vent my spleen at her.”

“Surely you’re joking.” Either he was used to toying with others or unused to being toyed with himself.

A bit of anger crept into Kieman’s features, and it somehow made Lawrence think of a younger Holo.

“The part about the business deal is true, and I did come down the river in search of Eve. However, my goal was to ask for her aid.”

“In business?”

Lawrence shook his head. “I came across something quite strange in my travels. That happenstance led me to follow a certain silly tale.”

“A silly…tale?”

“Yes.”

Kieman rolled his eyes up as though he were gazing at the stars in the sky; then he continued. “You refer to the story of the wolf remains.”

“Yes. For you to hit upon it so soon, it must be quite a famous tale around here.”

“Famous it is, yes, but…Mr. Lawrence, is that truly what you’re pursuing?” He seemed less taken aback than he was simply disbelieving.

Perhaps the story was such that he could not imagine why anyone would chase it.

“I can see you’re shocked.”

“No, not as such, but…” It was a pitiful excuse, as Kieman himself was well aware. “My apologies. There’s no point in hiding it. I am indeed shocked.”

“My traveling companion was born in the north. It concerns her homeland, and she desperately wishes to find the truth.”

Here in a town where north and south collided, cultural and religious clashes were daily occurrences.

The reason Lawrence gave would be, if anything, more convincing in such a place.

“I see…What shocks me, though, is not the fact that you’re chasing the story in and of itself.”

It was the same reaction as Reynolds at the Jean Company.

But the words he continued with were different.

“Rather, what I find shocking is that while having an acquaintance with Eve Bolan, you would use it to pursue this wild-goose chase of all things.”

Lawrence thought for a moment.

He tried to logically pinpoint Kieman’s thought process.

“In other words, if I know Eve, I could use her to pursue any number of legitimate opportunities,” Lawrence prompted, at which Kieman made a fine face and nodded.

“The reason I brought you back here, Mr. Lawrence, is that her name is extremely important in this town at the moment, and we’re in a very delicate position.”

“Meaning?”

If Eve’s name was important and the town’s position delicate, then the reason for that would likewise be so.

Lawrence guessed there was only about a fifty-fifty chance that his question would be answered, but it seemed he had won that bet.

“She’s using her status as former nobility to secretly cooperate with the town headmen for profit. She’s probably the only one who has a complete picture of all the interested parties. No one knows what the impact might be of a single mistake in their dealings with her. I called you back here and told you of this, Mr. Lawrence, for the same reason I spoke with you earlier.”

He was referring to the countertop conversation about the relationship between the north and south.

That had indeed not been out of the kindness of his heart, but instead an explanation of the trade guild’s thinking.

“So to hear that you’ve come here not to do business with Eve, but instead to ask her for clues to your folly of a quest—it not only surprises me, but also comes as an enormous relief.”

Kieman spoke with an amiable demeanor, but behind his words was an order: “Do not do business with Eve in this town.

“But I think you are correct to seek her advice regarding the wolf remains. I doubt there’s anyone with as much knowledge of the Roam River region as she.”

This meant that he did not mind if Lawrence wanted to go on this wild-goose chase.

It also implied that Kieman believed the tale of the wolf bones to be utter folly.

“Still, I must wonder at what history led you to do business with her. Here in this town, there are many who wish to deal with her, but she’s utterly unapproachable. I’m sure anyone who can get a favorable response from her will do well…”

Of course, he would wonder at it.

If Eve was so important, the trade guild would have to be scheming to get involved with her.

“I did nothing. She approached me, and only now am I starting to understand why.”

“Oh?”

“She ingratiated herself with the headmen, used them, profited, and then was unable to pay them back. Or perhaps she simply didn’t want to. It was none other than Eve who was clashing with the south side’s coin purse mercenaries.”

Kieman was once again surprised, and perhaps unconsciously trying to hide it, he stroked his face and nodded.

“I was truly deceived in my dealings in Lenos. I’d wagered not only the money I’d raised by selling my precious companion into hock, but also my own life. And in the end—well, the knives and hatchets came out, but the reason I think she pulled me into the deal was that by that time, the only person she could deceive and use was a traveling merchant like me.”

When he thought about it that way, that was probably also why the slave-trading house so easily lent him the money to buy the furs.

That was just how highly Eve’s name was valued.

“I see…That does seem likely. I must admit I’m rather…envious that you could ask for her help even after knives and hatchets had come out.”

Impressed at how well chosen those words were, Lawrence nodded and answered. “True colors come out when you squabble like children over a purse full of coin. I don’t know that Eve and I are friends exactly, but we do share some embarrassing memories, let’s say.”

That was not the complete truth, but it was not far from it.

Whether or not Kieman understood, he closed his eyes and nodded, putting his index finger to his temple as if thinking on something.

As someone responsible for a trade guild branch, he would not find himself involved in such brutal dealings.

Lawrence was feeling something of a mix of envy and a vague sense of superiority when Kieman suddenly looked up.

“Understood. Now, then—”

“Yes?” answered Lawrence innocently, and then—

“Eve Bolan or the trade guild—which is your priority?”

This was the very definition of being thrown from one’s stride.

For a moment, Lawrence no longer understood who was in front of him.

But that was not because of his own surprise. There was a different reason for his sudden confusion.

Kieman’s affect had changed entirely.

Lawrence felt a cold sweat instantly break out on his back.

Up until that moment, he had simply thought that they were making small talk about Eve, but he was suddenly wondering if he had been seriously mistaken.

He thought he would be able to gather some information and call it a day.

That was not the case.

“Well…the guild, of course,” Lawrence managed to answer, and Kieman looked away without as much as nodding.

His brusque manner was just as it had been when Lawrence approached the counter and put the five trenni down.

Lawrence had been played.

And so unbelievably easily, too.

“In that case, I’m expecting you to behave in a manner befitting a member of this guild. Human connections are assets—they are capital. And large business requires large capital,” said Kieman with a brilliant smile.

His tone was pleasant, but it had a forceful finality to it.

Lawrence should not have let his guard down.

He had completely misjudged Eve’s importance, as well.

As a result, he had been cornered by Kieman into promising to put the trade guild first.

It made Lawrence feel incredibly uncomfortable, as if he had just been forced to sign a contract without reading it—and this feeling was no illusion.

“Eve was only just in a difficult place without anywhere to turn, you see,” said Kieman casually, as though he were making small talk.

Lawrence was quite sure that he was not merely being asked to put a good word in with Eve.

He had to expect something humiliating or at least partially so; otherwise there was no telling what they would use him for, thought Lawrence. He was about to open his mouth to speak, when—

“Mr. Kieman! Mr. Kieman!” came a voice from outside the room, accompanied by hurried footsteps.

Next there was an urgent knock at the door, and Kieman’s name was again called out.

Something had happened.

But Kieman only sipped his now-cool soup, entirely unruffled.

“But I’ve taken too much of your time. It seems I have other business to attend to, so if you’ll excuse me.”

He stood and walked toward the door.

A dazed Lawrence watched him leave, having completely lost the opportunity to speak further, when Kieman suddenly stopped and looked back. “Ah, yes—”

His manner was that of an actor required to perform constantly for a very discerning audience.

“—If you speak of this to anyone else…”

Kieman opened the door and listened to the whisper of the frantic-looking guild employee, giving a short nod without changing his expression.

Though they might lack wolf ears or tails, there are people in the world every bit the terrifying equal of the gods and spirits.

Lawrence felt it.

“…You’ll surely regret it,” Kieman finished, regarding Lawrence with a pleasant merchant’s smile.

The guild house was in an uproar, like unto a kicked hornet’s nest.

Merchants were coming through the front door, approaching the first-floor counter, leaving letters, and heading back out.

At that moment, if one wanted to know what was happening in Kerube, there was probably no better place to be than inside a trade house.

But as Lawrence watched Kieman work, he wasn’t thinking about the current crisis at all.

He was still preoccupied with the conversation he had just had.

While Lawrence’s calm face made it seem like he was attempting to discern what was happening in the town just as all the other merchants were, inside he was full of dread.

Kieman was trying to accomplish something using Lawrence’s connection to Eve. Lawrence had thought to use Eve as bait to draw information out of Kieman, but he had wound up getting snared himself.

Meanwhile, he felt as though the mood in the clamorous first floor of the trade house had changed.

Lawrence looked up and saw a familiar face peering in at him through the open front door.

It was Holo, whom he had told to meet with him back at the inn when her work was done.

“May I help you?” asked a hairy merchant who was standing next to the door, probably thinking she was a nun on pilgrimage who had lost track of her companion.

Holo seemed to consider how to answer for a moment but soon noticed Lawrence standing up from his chair.

“Excuse me, she’s an acquaintance of mine.”

There were many merchants who served the food and supply lines of knight companies and mercenaries, and if a group on pilgrimage were sufficiently well funded, it was not unheard of for them to have merchants that served in similar capacities.

Lawrence spoke up without any particular urgency, so the other merchants in the room simply assumed that was what he was.

Their slightly envious gazes were probably because of his being connected to such a profitable-looking customer.

The only exception was Kieman.

Lawrence felt the man’s gaze on his back as he left with Holo.

Though things outside seemed unchanged, looking closer, Lawrence noticed merchants and messengers carrying letters hurriedly to and from the trade house branches, red faced and rushed.

“What happened?” Lawrence asked as they walked slowly through the lively marketplace.

“With the town suddenly in such an uproar, I can hardly leave you on your own.”

“What do you mean?” he was about to reply, but as someone thoroughly involved in things, he found he could not object.

And there was no denying that they were getting involved.

“So, did you find anything out?” Lawrence asked, feigning composure.

Just as he thought Holo was puffing herself up in pride, she exhaled a deep sigh and shook her head. “I received but the most perfunctory answers. I thought with the abundance of charming fools like you, I’d have no trouble drawing them out, but with this sudden commotion, they simply sent me off. What is happening?”

Ignoring her baiting words, Lawrence replied only to the substantive part of her statement. “They sent you off? Out of the church?”

“Aye. I wondered if some great demon had appeared in the town to threaten the church…”

Lawrence had to laugh at the seriousness with which this statement came. “That would’ve been a calamity, indeed…but I do wonder what it was that involves the Church.”

“Once I was cast out of the church, I thought I would try to track the disturbance, but there was such a crowd that there was naught for it—not to mention the many men with swords and spears.”

“Soldiers?”

“Aye. All I could tell was that they were carrying something precious from the river, and it seemed they went into the church. It was a terrific uproar. Indeed, and that lad who wanted to make me his bride—when was it again?—he was there.”

“Back in Kumersun.” Lawrence made a pained face, not wanting to be reminded of such things. Holo chuckled.

But if something similar to that happened now, Lawrence doubted it would be as much of a crisis.

For one thing, even if it did, he was closer to Holo now than he had been back then.

He could tell that Holo was bringing it up partially out of a sense of nostalgia.

“But what would happen to raise such a fuss?” wondered Lawrence.

“You may ask, but I have no answer. Even listening carefully to the crowds, I couldn’t make sense of it at all. I decided ’twould be better to return to you for the nonce.”

“Huh,” Lawrence murmured, trying to piece together what he had heard earlier at the trade house. “According to what they were saying when I arrived, it seems a ship from the north side was being towed by a ship from a company on the south side, but I assumed it was just talk of internal politics.”

Holo seemed not to understand and regarded Lawrence the way she did when she thought she was being teased.

“Explain it so I can understand,” her expression said.

“The north and south sides of this town are in conflict, right? But they can’t draw lines in the ocean. When the fish head north, they fish in the north, and when the fish are south, they go south. Whenever there’s fishing in rivers, lakes, or oceans, issues of territory are always a source of strife. That’s what I thought they were talking about. You’d hardly think that a trading company in the south would be so taken by a north-side fishing vessel out on the ocean that they’d buy it up on the spot, would you?”

Holo slowly nodded, as if vaguely understanding this talk of territory.

“But for them to tow a north-side ship in and bring ashore something that required armed escort, and for that to be the work of the Church instead of a trading company, it makes me wonder if they really caught a mermaid or something.”

“A mermaid?” Holo asked, her head tilted curiously.

Surprisingly, she seemed not to know what one was.

“They’re a kind of legendary creature. The sea immediately next to us is known as the Winfiel Strait, but around its northern mouth is a reef where there were constant shipwrecks. And there’s an old legend about them, that women with voices of unearthly beauty sing enchanted songs from that reef, causing sailors to lose their way and wreck their ships upon the rocks. And those sailors who wonder what beautiful women are doing on the wave-pounded reefs soon have their questions answered—the mermaids are human from the waist up, but below that, they have the tails of fish.”

Holo listened to the story, seeming honestly impressed.

It was not as if she were unfamiliar with the sea, but somehow she seemed never to have heard of mermaids.

If Holo had not heard of them, perhaps they really were nothing but a superstition, thought Lawrence.

Holo nodded and spoke. “Human males surely are easy to fool.”

It was true that old stories and legends were full of men being tricked by all sorts of spirits.

But Lawrence had sparred with Holo many times before and had a few choice words to counterattack with.

“Isn’t it better to stay carefree rather than constantly being on guard for deceptions?”

Lawrence was well aware that Holo was disposed to prefer a mild sunbeam to a violent gambling den.

After flicking her ears for a few moments beneath her hood, Holo spoke in a mischievous tone. “Aye, well, we enjoy our wine as well. Still,” she continued, smiling, “have you sworn to the God of the Church not to fall into their trap and not to fall into this one?”

“Huh?”

“I’m asking if you have anything to hide.”

“Gah—” Lawrence could not help himself from muttering, as Holo had once again struck at his inability to hide anything from her.

He had wanted to organize his thoughts more thoroughly before talking to Holo, but he told her everything about his exchange with Kieman.

“You fool.”

Lawrence wanted to protest that Kieman barely seemed human, but he knew that was no excuse.

Holo’s tone as she continued seemed unconcerned. “If it was such an unreasonable demand, why didn’t you simply refuse?”

When she said it like that, it sounded almost possible, which was a terrifying illusion.

But Lawrence soon regained his composure and scratched his head.

Merchants preferred to have contracts on paper, but before committing a promise to writing, they would use a verbal contract.

And its meaning was weighty indeed.

“Dozens, hundreds of merchants are members of the Rowen Trade Guild, including some who earn thousands of lumione in a year. It is nothing less than an entity that could squash me without a second thought. No matter what favor they might ask of me, I cannot refuse it. Absurd, you might think—but that is part of why promises are always kept.”

Even in the Church city of Ruvinheigen, when Lawrence was facing utter ruin and the possibility of life on a slave ship—even then he did not consider betraying the guild.

Trading companies were thus powerful allies and fearsome enemies, knights who wielded the pen and the coin.

“Hmph. Well, I suppose ’tis true that a youngster can hardly disobey a veteran.”

“You see?”

“Aye. But still, those in such position often have too much to lose and cannot risk bold moves. You wish to use your acquaintance with that vixen to accomplish something, but with others involved, perhaps they fear the trouble it might cause and thus threaten you.”

If the problem was that one tended to be controlled by various influences and implications, then someone not in that position would have been able to make a more objective judgment.

“And for those trying to hold the group together, keeping a weather eye on your underlings so they don’t make foolish mistakes is common sense. I doubt you’ve anything to worry about.”

Holo actually had held entire mountains and villages together, and so her words had a certain persuasiveness to them.

She was not some food- and wine-obsessed town lass who cried at any mention of her homeland.

“Anyway, whatever you decide, all I need do is act according to my own priorities,” said Holo, waving her hand dismissively and speeding up her walk.

Anger at her selfishness or callousness was the wrong answer.

And yet laughing it off as a joke was also the wrong answer.

Lawrence called out to her receding form. “Even if I were at the top of that list, I assume you wouldn’t admit it, would you?”

Holo stopped and looked back. “Aye. I cannot have you getting seduced.”

She flashed her fangs in a grin, and for a moment, a shock ran through him as he worried that she might be revealed.

But when he felt that chill down his spine, it was usually not because of his surroundings turning colder—rather it was his own temperature rising.

Lawrence gave a long-suffering sigh, drawing alongside Holo, who had slowed her walk.

He took her hand and spoke. “Are we finished here? Let’s meet back up with Col.”

Holo’s face as she looked at him was unsurprisingly angry.

“That’s my line, you dunce!”

Fortunately, the return crossing from the delta to the north side cost only a single fare.

When something happened in the town, the disturbance would spread rapidly.

And if that something was across the river, the urge to rubberneck inevitably spread like wildfire.

Nearly everyone wanted to get from the north side to the delta and from the delta to the south side, so ferries going the opposite direction were completely empty.

It would have been ridiculous not to haggle the ferryman’s fare down, and with the leftover coin, Lawrence bought Holo more roasted shellfish.

Lawrence barely had time to say, “You mustn’t tell Col,” before Holo had polished them off and was looking very satisfied indeed.

If they were going to pursue what was happening in the town, it might have seemed like the best course of action would be either to remain on the delta or cross to the south side, but listening to what Holo said made Lawrence think otherwise.

As a precaution, he had not told Kieman where they were staying.

One never knew.

If Col was taken hostage, there was no telling what sort of unreasonable demands they might make—to say nothing of Holo.

Upon returning to the inn, they were greeted by an exhausted Col, who was sprawled facedown on the table.

“Ah, welcome back…” His face twitched strangely.

For a moment, Lawrence wondered what had happened, but then he saw the cheap pickled herring and battered, blackened copper coins on the table and could more or less guess.

He must have been very popular when posing as a beggar boy to listen to town gossip.

“…I’m tired.”

“That much is obvious, but did you hear anything to match the effort?”

Holo drew close to the tired Col and with both hands rubbed the dirt from the corners of his eyes.

When Lawrence had been just starting out as a merchant, he too had slept with a face tired from too many forced smiles, the muscles twitching and moving of their own accord.

Of course, back then he had been forced to massage his own face.

“Er…yes. It was just as you said, Mr. Lawrence. The Jean Company should be profiting, but I heard they don’t eat proper food, and they hardly ever give to charity.”

“Which means that they might even be taking those chicken eggs to market and selling them.”

As she rubbed Col’s face, Holo got a faraway look in her eye. “Then mayhap that feast was meant to court us.”

“Quite likely. So Reynolds may well be serious about the wolf remains.”

Or it was his last wish.

According to Kieman, Eve would only secretly negotiate with someone who could make the greatest profit in that particular moment.

As long as that was her method, no one would want to approach her without a very clear plan.

Contacting her with the claim that you would do anything as long as it expanded your business was a dangerous bet because there was no way of knowing whom she was involved with and to what end.

Which meant it was possible that Reynolds did indeed want Eve’s cooperation with the wolf remains.

It fit that Reynolds knew where the remains were but had no way of negotiating with the owner and wanted to ask Eve to act as a middleman.

It was all too likely that some well-known nobleman or clergyman had the remains.

But they would never negotiate with some unknown merchant.

Who they would negotiate with was a merchant prince wealthy enough to have purchased a title—or true fellow nobility.

“Even from what I heard, reinforcement seemed possible.”

“Meaning?”

“The church in the town we were just in, I hear, has been very bold in spreading the teachings of their God and has been inspiring their flock all along the river. That verve has reached all the way to the northern mountains, the heartland of paganism, and there gives courage to the knights fighting with pagans on the front line.”

Col sat up with a start and looked straight at Holo.

In the worst case, her statement could mean that the Church’s hand had fallen upon his town.

“But the northern pagans’ resistance has been fierce, and since for the nonce the missionary efforts are making little progress, the Church men were warning me not to be swayed from the true path, despite the mistaken beliefs of my kith and kin.”

Col looked visibly relieved, and as he slumped, his shoulders sagged, seeming to lose half their posture.

It was clear Holo had heard quite a bit of the Church’s specialty—stories that were not precisely lies but left a mistaken impression upon the listener.

Holo was not so patient as to be able to happily listen to such foolishness.

As long as she was not in a foul mood, she would not tease someone about his or her town for fun.

“The Church can never appear weak in its dealings with pagans. For them to state something so close to the truth must mean their true situation is desperate. If so, considering the situation with the bishopric in Lenos, talk of drastic measures to reverse their position—such as getting the wolf remains into their hands—cannot be easily dismissed as absurd.”

“Too true. When I mentioned the bones, the fools would speak of the need to take them as quickly as possible, to show the pagans the error of their ways,” spat Holo, her tail swishing violently enough to cause her robe to flip up as she sat forcefully down on the bed.

Lawrence had no words for Holo and, letting a slight sigh escape, tried to put his thoughts in order.

“There’s no doubt that the Jean Company is looking for the remains. And they’re closing in on the location. Or perhaps it’s better to say that they’re getting closer to handing them over to the Church.”

“And should we just go then to this whatever-’tis-called company?”

Holo’s upturned glance was frightening as ever.

Lawrence shook his head at her bare-fanged statement. “Imagine what would happen if we tried to solve everything with brute force. Your true nature would absolutely come out, and the Church’s rage would be roused. A pagan god in the flesh—‘all ye faithful servants of God, rise and take swords in hand,’ they would say.”

Holo was not such a child as to say she would merely tear all who opposed them to shreds.

She understood the difference of magnitude, and more importantly, she could not fail to know that such an act would give the deadlocked Church renewed will and resolve.

“If possible, our solution should be money. In the worst case, a secret theft would also work.”

“Such childish gambits—” began Holo, but stopped herself at Lawrence’s quiet gaze.

“Enough money can easily kill a person. With money, your homeland could be stripped bare. It is not ‘childish.’”

Lawrence was a merchant, and merchants risked their lives to make money.

He knew well how difficult that was and also the power it held.

Holo grunted something that might or might not have been agreement, then looked away.

“Still, now that we’ve recognized the situation, the question becomes what we can do about it, and the answer may well be ‘not very much.’”

“…Why should that be? If this company is seeking the aid of that vixen, then we have two choices.”

“Two?”

Anticipating a display of the celebrated cleverness of a wisewolf, Lawrence turned to look at Holo, who patted Col on the head.

“We can use this fellow’s wits to threaten them.”

She was referring to the mystery of the copper coin that the Jean Company handled.

“I see,” murmured Lawrence. “And the other?”

At those words, a mysterious smile appeared on Holo’s face, and she moved smoothly toward Lawrence.

He suddenly had a bad feeling about this, not for any particular reason, but simply because of his experiences with Holo thus far.

“We do what that company wants and play matchmaker twixt them and the vixen. We can hear the location of the wolf remains once she’s been asked where they are.”

There was a head of height difference between Lawrence and Holo.

When she stood directly in front of him, Holo had to look distinctly up, but it was Lawrence who felt overpowered.

“There may be some possibility of that with the Jean Company, but there’s still a clear flaw there.”

“Oh, aye?”

Did she have some secret plan? Lawrence wondered, but his common sense refuted it.

“Yes. What profit is there for Eve in doing that? If we ask her where the remains are, make no mistake that she’ll instantly be on guard against having them stolen away. Why would she…?” asked Lawrence when Holo’s provocative smile made him realize.

Her tail was wagging her irritation for just that reason.

“We need but seduce her. You’re trying to fool this wisewolf, so it should be no trouble at all, nay?”

Love affairs trumped proper business deals.

This wolf already knew full well things that Lawrence had learned in his many years as a merchant.

But Lawrence didn’t understand why she was speaking about it with such irritation.

Setting aside whether or not it was a real possibility, as a potential means to an end it certainly existed.

So long as they were only discussing it, there was no need for such ill temper.

Lawrence flinched a bit at Holo’s smile, and Holo looked suddenly behind her.

“Col, my lad, close your eyes and cover your ears.”

“Wha—?”

He hesitated for but a moment.

By this time well trained by Holo, Col obeyed her with frightening speed.

Holo gave a satisfied sigh and turned back to Lawrence. “Did you think I had not noticed?”

Her smile disappeared, and she grabbed Lawrence’s ear and pulled him close.

“Wh-what are you—”

“Even you can tell what someone has eaten by what remains on their mouth. But I can tell by scent alone. Even the slightest morsel if I get that close.”

Lawrence soon realized what Holo was referring to by “that close.”

He had listened to Eve by the spring of gold, then had his pathetic worries soothed on the second floor of the tavern.

But why was Holo angry about that now of all times? Lawrence wondered, then realized something strange—something immediately following his conversation with Eve, and now the possibility of seducing her.

And this strange roundabout talk of being able to tell what someone had eaten by scent alone.

“Ah—”

Just as Lawrence realized, Holo drew so near that he could count her individual eyelashes.

“All I can do is pray you stop being such a reckless male. I’d then spend less effort trying to teach you the difference betwixt courage and foolhardiness.”

When they had spoken by the spring of gold, Eve had drunk the same ale that Lawrence had.

Among merchants, cup sharing was not something worth worrying about.

But while that might hold true for merchants, it was not necessarily so for Holo.

“Look here, this is a misunderstanding.”

Lawrence tried to defend himself from at least that count, whereupon Holo violently released his ear and spoke in a quiet voice.

“I am perfectly aware of that. I told you, ’tis impossible to hide anything from me.”

It had not particularly hurt, but Lawrence still rubbed his ear as he turned his gaze away tiredly.

It would have been far more charming of her to simply admit her worry—and if he said so, he would get an ear bitten off.

Also, this business with Eve was only a possibility, and the moment they would have to bet on that possibility was rapidly approaching.

Or was it just the very fact of the prospect entering their field of view that upset Holo so?

Lawrence wondered about it as Holo roused Col, who had obediently placed his head down on the table.

He thought he understood, more or less.

Holo was truly worried.

As the tale of the wolf bones took on more plausibility, her worry was no doubt turning stronger.

“In any case, what we should do now is—” Holo began with strange vigor, which snapped Lawrence out of his reverie.

Col was cleaning up the table surface in Holo’s direction.

Just as Lawrence was wondering what she was up to, Holo held Lawrence’s coin purse up, having loosened it from his waist at some point, and continued talking.

“—We put an end to this stubbornness and ask young Col for his thoughts. Unless your heart’s set on seducing that vixen, that is.”

Lawrence, of course, only slumped and sighed.

Only the finest trading companies had glass windows.

Normally they had either nothing at all or oil-soaked cloth at best.

The inn where Lawrence and company were staying was no exception, and the opened outside windows freely let in both the clamor of the town and the frigid air.

But for once, the cold wind had been forgotten.

And it was not because they were doing something so hot it let them forget the cold.

This was what it meant to be stunned into silence.

“…It can’t be…,” Lawrence finally murmured.

He rubbed his eyes and looked again.

That did not, of course, change the reality of what was on the table.

“…Aye, common sense is a troublesome opponent…and yet…and yet…”

Lawrence knew of many methods to cheat in business, and the more complicated they were, the more power they had.

Moneychangers’ fraud happened in the exchange markets, with their hundreds of varieties of coins, old and new, from near and far, and fraud around the buying and selling of physical wares involved either complicated machinations or deals made on intricate timelines.

Of course, there were more straightforward frauds, but in most cases, those relied on the skillful tongue of the swindler as opposed to the method itself.

This was the first time Lawrence had been so surprised by both a trick’s nature and its source.

“Er…I don’t remember the exact amount, but if they used this method and made a bit of an adjustment, they would go from fifty-seven boxes of copper coin to sixty…I think.”

Lawrence and Holo’s shock made Col’s voice a little less certain.

“No, I’m sure it would. Yes, I see. And no one would be the wiser.”

“Doubtless not. And still…hnh,” Holo muttered in frustration, pinching Col’s cheek.

Lawrence could not even manage that.

Col had discovered a mystery: Fifty-seven boxes of imported copper coin had become sixty boxes when exported.

The answer lay in the difference between packing coins in parallel stacks of similar height or alternating rows.

Either way resulted in a perfectly packed box, such that if any coins were stolen, it would be immediately obvious.

Moreover, even if there were verbal instructions to “pack coins tightly in boxes,” the discrepancy would not be noticed, and in any case, transporting perfectly packed boxes of fixed size reduced the time spent counting coins, also ensuring that if any coins were taken, they would be immediately noticed. So at a given time and place, the only person concerned with how many coins were packed in a box was the buyer receiving them.

While in transit, nobody worried about how many coins were in a box.

This was because taxes were levied by the box, as were transportation fees.

“I wonder, though—has no one else noticed this?”

“Hmm?”

“I’ll agree that Col is a bright lad, but there are many bright people in the world. If you did this for years, surely you would eventually meet someone else who knows the trick, would you not?”

Ragusa, the boatman who carried the copper coins down the Roam River to the Jean Company, did the route several times a year and had been doing so for two years.

And it was true that over two years, someone would have opened up one of the boxes and looked at its contents.

But there was one important thing.

“The Jean Company is probably cutting down on the taxes and transport costs they pay and turning profit on the excess, but there’s something very particular necessary for anyone to finally realize that they are making dishonest gains.”

“Aye?”

“…Ah! The manifest!” Col’s cheek was still being pinched by Holo, but with something to think about, he did not seem to notice or mind. He quickly gave the answer with a smile, coming back to himself and looking at Holo.

Holo pinched harder on Col’s cheek, as that was indeed the correct answer.

“Yes. Only after we know the details of the export and import can we begin to suspect foul play. There is far too much volume of trade in the world to constantly suspect this kind of fraud. One can’t inspect everything.”

Even if he wanted to live cautiously, there were many things that escaped the eye.

Lawrence picked up one of the copper coins that was lined up on the table and sighed.

“Still,” said Holo, having harassed Col for a while, “this means we’ve found a weapon to threaten that company, does it not?” she added, her eyes flashing.

Lawrence debated whether to toss cold water on that, ultimately deciding that hiding it from her would only worsen things.

Disappointment was always worse when it took longer to arrive.

“Unfortunately,” Lawrence began, at which Holo’s smile instantly froze. “As a weapon, it’s rather meager.”

“Why?” She was more frightening now than when she wore her halfhearted face of annoyance.

But nothing would be solved by holding back his words. “He’s reducing the number of boxes shipped by three and profiting via the reduced taxes and transport costs. If this comes to light, the Jean Company will either have to pay penalties or lose their credibility as a trading company. But…”

“But the difference between that penalty and the profit from the wolf bones is too great. ’Tis the same as when we bought these clothes, is it not?” suggested Holo, grabbing at her own garments.

She had calmed her irritated face, perhaps because she had realized there was nothing to do but accept reality.

“That’s right. It might’ve been just the right weapon to use if they were only chasing the wolf tale for fun.”

Holo did seem aggrieved, but she was not dejected about having lost one of their leads.

Col, who had solved the riddle of the copper coins in the first place, had gotten ahead of her on that count.

He had surely been looking forward to his knowledge being useful.

Up until a moment earlier, Holo had been pinching his cheek, but now she ruffled his hair in an elder sisterly way.

“Aye, well, that just means the problem’s a large one. ’Tis better this than something solved with the trade of a single apple.”

“Quite right. If one method won’t work, we’ll just move on to the next.”

Talk was cheap, of course.

They needed but to find something that Reynolds would weigh favorably against the wolf remains, but if such a thing were easily obtained, none of them would need to worry so.

Or perhaps, as Reynolds had been gathering stories and thereby found some hint as to the bones’ location, Lawrence and company needed to follow that example and search out more information.

If Reynolds, who did business in Kerube, had managed to find something, then perhaps Kieman had at least a crumb of knowledge.

Lawrence did not know what Kieman was planning, but it surely involved Eve, and the guild would undoubtedly ask some favor of Lawrence on that count. So as compensation for that, perhaps he could ask for information.

It seemed something was happening in the town, so it would not be possible for a little while, but if Kieman’s hand had to wait, Lawrence did not particularly mind.

If there was a problem, it had to be—

“If we’re thinking of our next move, our problem becomes this: When will Eve depart this town? Judging by what she said, it seems like she wants to free herself from the troublesome ties she has here. She likely plans to leave and not return for some time. And if Reynolds knows that—”

“She’ll tell him what she knows, and soon.”

Time, as ever, was the enemy.

Lawrence muttered, and Holo continued speaking.

“Which means there’s naught to do but seduce her.”

Lawrence glared sharply at her—this after how angry she had been just a moment ago.

But given the circumstances, even ridiculous possibilities had to be carefully considered.

In reality, there were countless times when a missed chance would put something out of reach for all eternity.

If the bones fell under Church authority, there was a very real possibility that they would vanish into darkness.

Holo played with Col’s hair, and Lawrence stroked his beard as they both considered the possibilities.

Col likewise was surely deep in thought, but three heads were not better than two.

As precious time slipped away, Holo seemed to grow frustrated with thinking and moved away from Col and toward the bed, sitting down and fidgeting her tail out.

Lawrence watched this and looked at Col, who likewise looked back at him.

The two exchanged a sad smile, as though agreeing a short break was in order, when—

“Hmph.” Holo looked up, her ears turning toward the hallway.

And this was Holo, after all, who would listen for footsteps in the hall just to tease Lawrence.

The keenness of her hearing was soon demonstrated again.

“Mr. Lawrence. Mr. Kraft Lawrence.” His name was called just as there was a knock at the door.

It was the innkeeper’s voice, but why would he bother coming all the way up to a guest’s room?

Without so much as needing to exchange winks, Col immediately stood and made for the door.

They had paid for their room in advance, and Lawrence had no memory of cracking any of the cups and bowls they had borrowed.

As he was thinking about it, through the opened door appeared the innkeeper, hunched over and looking furtively around. “Ah, you’re still here.”

“Quite. Is something the matter?”

“Yes, I was asked to give this to you.”

“To me?”

Just as Lawrence was wondering what the innkeeper could possibly have for him, the man produced a sealed letter from his breast pocket.

Lawrence took it and opened it; upon the message was neat handwriting.

“Come to the Lydon Inn.…Want to discuss statues. For details, talk to the…innkeeper?” Lawrence murmured as he read the letter’s contents. When he looked up, he saw the innkeeper’s gaze still upon the note.

The moment his eyes met Lawrence’s, he nodded decisively.

“Aha, I see. Very good, sir. Will you be traveling alone?”

Lawrence had no idea what he was talking about, but looked back down at the letter.

The last line said, “Come alone.”

“Very good, sir. I’ll prepare a fast carriage. Please wait just a moment.”

“Er…yes,” Lawrence replied stupidly, at which the innkeeper bowed politely and trotted off.

“What was that all about?”

“I’m not really sure…oh, of course. This is an inn Eve recommended to me.”

Lawrence returned to the table and set the letter on it.

Holo seemed to have been sure he was going to bring it to her and got off the bed looking irritated.

“Something urgent must have come up. She’s going to quite a bit of trouble.”

“Will you be all right alone?”

Holo picked up the letter between two fingers, sniffing suspiciously at it by way of appraisal.

Given the way she wrinkled her nose at it, the letter had to be from Eve.

“I’ll make sure to seduce her well.”

“Fool,” spat Holo before repeating herself. “Will you be safe alone?”

This time Lawrence was not teasing. “If she wanted to put me in danger, there are many other ways to do it. She must have some reason for this.”

“…”

Holo closed her mouth, aggrieved, her tail flicking.

She was either worried he was going to fall into yet another trap or possibly just thought he was helpless.

Either way, the letter asked him to come alone, and he planned to go alone.

If he did not trust Eve, that would only give her cause to be mistrustful of him.

But having explained as much to Holo, he got the feeling she was still displeased.

Lawrence was at a loss for what to say, but then his savior appeared.

“It’s all right, Miss Holo. I’ll be here with you while Mr. Lawrence is out.”

No one could fail to laugh upon hearing Col’s desperate joke.

Holo closed her eyes and burst out laughing.

If Col, who was even younger than Lawrence, could manage to be so considerate, then Holo the Wisewolf could hardly fail to do likewise.

At length her laughter subsided, and she sighed, putting her hands on her hips. “So there it is, then. Seems young Col will be watching over me while you’re away.”

Lawrence gave Col a wink.

He could only be thankful for the smile he got in reply.

“Well, I’ll be off, then. If anyone suspicious comes by, don’t open the door for them. You never know—it might be a wolf.”

Holo snorted at the joke. “Without good news, I don’t know that I’ll be able to stay in my human form.”

It was nothing to joke about, but Lawrence decided to put off that conversation until later, as whatever debt the innkeeper owed Eve, it was enough for him to prepare a fast horse-drawn carriage in a manner entirely befitting of the word haste, and he called for Lawrence.

“I’ll give you more details in the carriage, sir.”

This made it doubtful whether the Lydon Inn was actually an inn. It was more likely a house somewhere that they were merely calling an inn.

Lawrence nodded and followed the innkeeper’s lead.

It had been the right decision to bring Col along on this journey, Lawrence thought to himself as he pictured the boy’s face when he uttered that desperate joke.

When he emerged from the back of the inn, there waited for him no jet-black coach but rather a normal carriage. The innkeeper gave Lawrence a cloak, which he pulled low over his head.

It was obvious that Eve wanted to meet Lawrence in secret, but what he did not know was how she had such influence over the innkeeper.

Even if he did owe her some debt, there was something strange about it.

That sense of apprehension only grew as they approached the building known as the Lydon Inn.

The building was down a narrow street where careless driving blocked the way in a district where cobblers and coopers worked tirelessly under the eaves, despite the chill. Like the hideout Eve had led him to before, the building was darkened with age and seemed to have seen the passing of many seasons.

Directly across the street at what seemed to be a tailor’s workshop, three men worked to cut down a large skin.

Aristocrats hated labor of all kinds.

This was not a place a refined person would live.

And upon entering the craft district, Lawrence became aware of their strange gazes upon him.

Even if it wasn’t surprising they’d be curious at his arrival, given that they would know the faces of anyone who came here, there was something more than just curiosity in their gazes.

If he had to put his finger on it, they seemed to be on the lookout.

“I’ve brought a guest.”

The driver of Lawrence’s carriage knocked at the door with a cane as soon as they pulled up to the building.

The informality of it was surprising, but something about the way he knocked was odd, and it was probably some kind of signal.

Before long the door opened, and from within emerged a face Lawrence was not unfamiliar with.

It was one of the mean-eyed young men who’d been with Eve on the delta.

“Inside,” he said, jerking his head back after giving Lawrence an appraising look.

Lawrence couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d gotten himself involved in something big, but having realized it, it was not as though he could do anything about it.

After all, being frightened wasn’t in his best interests, so Lawrence armed himself with his merchant’s curiosity.

He gave the silent driver a nod and got out of the carriage, then unhesitatingly reached for the door.

The weathered door suited the house, which was one step away from being completely dilapidated, but the wood it used was solid, and most importantly, it did not creak.

When he opened the door and entered, he saw the man who’d greeted him leaning against the wall, regarding him.

No matter where a merchant found himself delivered, he couldn’t help smiling.

Lawrence gave the man a pleasant smile, and the man, who wore an obvious sword at his belt, indicated a hallway with his eyes.

The walls were half-stone and half-wood, and the floor was packed earth.

The place had probably been a craftsman’s workshop at one point.

As he walked farther in, his feet scuff-scuffing audibly on the floor, he found himself calmed by the scent he smelled—it was burning wood, which suited the season.

He opened the door at the end of the hallway, revealing what seemed to be a workshop-turned-living room. At the moment, though, it was no more than a storage space, with crates and barrels piled high and no particular sense that anyone was living there.

On the left side of the room there was a fireplace, and the area seemed to be set up to let someone pass at least a bit of time there.

“Surprised, are you?” Sitting in a chair and warming herself in front of the fire, Eve looked up from a bundle of parchment.

She looked not unlike a noblewoman reading over petitions from her land’s residents, but when she looked back and revealed her face, Lawrence was a bit surprised.

The left corner of her mouth was red and swollen.

“It’s cold out there. Close the door, if you would. No lock, though.”

It took Lawrence a moment to realize she was joking.

It seemed unlikely that she’d fallen and hurt herself, so someone must have hit her.

“Sorry to call you out so suddenly.”

“…Not at all. I’m honored to be summoned for a secret rendezvous with a beautiful woman.”

Spoken with a smile, it was a bad joke.

Spoken seriously, it was the opposite.

“A secret rendezvous, eh? Well, anyway, sit. Sadly, I’ve no servants,” said Eve, indicating an empty chair. Her gaze fell back down to the parchment in her hand before she watched Lawrence sit.

“It’s a bit chilly as homes go.”

Resting her left elbow on the table, Eve remained facing the fireplace as she regarded the parchment before her.

She offered Lawrence no reply.

“Still, I imagine it’s nice and cool in the summertime.”

“It’s winter now,” she replied harshly, which Lawrence smiled at.

“So much the better. It’ll be warm if you get out.”

At this Eve finally looked up.

Her mouth looked like it hurt, but her eyes were smiling. “Heh. Right you are. I’d love to get out; the sooner the better.”

“So why here?” He left out “Why are you locked up here?” given the man who was undoubtedly listening in on their conversation outside the room.

Eve sighed, and setting down the parchment, she spoke. “You would hide your weapons of last resort, too, would you not?”

“…I would, it’s true.”

As a former aristocrat and someone even top members of guild houses like Kieman recognized on sight, Eve was probably the Kerube landowners’ trump card.

Lawrence glanced at the aging parchment on the table, and from the rows of writing and formulas, he could tell it was a property transaction of some kind.

Essentially, Eve was being forced to plan the battle here, all on her own.

“Of course, the reason I’m locked up in here at sword point isn’t because of this contract. Nor did I call you out here to suggest you cross some dangerous bridge with me.”

Only Eve, who’d dragged him into a deeply dangerous deal back in Lenos, the town of lumber and fur, could make this joke.

“Still, I’m glad you let yourself be caught. If things go badly, I’ll need my bread torn into rather small pieces tonight.”

Lawrence realized they were moving from pleasant chitchat into a business discussion.

What Eve meant was simple.

Whoever hit her left cheek would also hit her right.

“The reason I called you is indeed the commotion in the town—you noticed it, yes?”

“Yes…something about the fishermen’s boats from this side of town docking in the south, was it?”

“Indeed. It’s as though God timed it. The news reached us as we were leaving the delta and returning to this side. It’s like a different town across the river. We’d be recognized, so once the rioting started we couldn’t cross. Even though our spies made it to the south side, there wasn’t time for them to return.”

This sort of talk was not especially familiar to Lawrence, who traveled from town to town, but it wasn’t as though he couldn’t understand the basic idea of a territorial dispute.

As Eve spoke, Lawrence realized why he’d been summoned.

He didn’t yet know how important it was, but his merchant’s instincts were making him sit up and pay attention—that much he was sure of.

“As I’m sure you’ve guessed, there’s information I need. I reckon you were at that delta guild house right up until the last moment. What did you hear there, I wonder?”

Eve was speaking as though she knew that Lawrence had been at the guild house.

Practically speaking, she knew that he was a member of the Rowen Trade Guild, so it wouldn’t have been hard to guess he’d been there.

But given that she was bringing this up here and now, there could be no doubt that the people who’d locked Eve up were observing him.

Of course, this could also be a trap she’d laid just to make him think so.

“I know a bit.”

“Even a bit is fine.”

Lawrence dropped his gaze to the parchment on the table, considering how much he should hide.

But after a moment, when he looked up, he spoke openly and frankly.

“A ship affiliated with this side was brought in by a south-side vessel. I don’t know the cargo, but it was worth protecting with armed guards, and it was worth bringing directly to the church.”

He’d told his opponent everything he knew without asking for any compensation, and yet this was not an uncalculated move.

“…Is that hearsay?”

“My companion got quite close to the church evidently,” said Lawrence, and Eve exhaled a deep breath, looked up, and closed her eyes.

She then composed herself and opened her eyes.

“So that’s it, is it?”

Lawrence had been right not to lie to Eve.

She didn’t have time to bargain with him just to get a bit of information.

“I’m glad you’re not some stingy-talking small fry.”

“Ah, but if I were a big fish, I wouldn’t have to come when called.”

“True enough. But when you’re a big fish, the world is filled with passages too narrow for you to pass.”

The odds could not have been good that Lawrence would have information about the disturbance in the town.

Even if he had been at the trading house, there was no guarantee he would have gotten the information.

Yet she’d found a way to hide her good nature and call Lawrence here, which meant there had to be another reason she’d done so.

And then the reason he’d vaguely anticipated was made clear by her words.

“So are you telling me to go down a small passage?”

“You’re in a unique position in this town. You don’t have any proper connections here, but you’re able to have a pleasant conversation with someone that many in this town are very eager to connect with.”

Eve’s eyes narrowed in a smile.

As he listened to her words, the image of Kieman claiming to be acquainted with Eve flashed through his mind.

“Of course, I won’t say it’s free. The story was told to me by the lot that locked me up in here, and their bellies are too large for them to fit through its paths.”

She waved a single page of parchment.

It was a contract, signed and stamped.

It was written in the old-style writing and involved the delta marketplace.

“I’ve only meager coin and goods, sadly, but I’ve more than enough connections and influence. It’ll be a good footing for business.”

“And not a yoke?” asked Lawrence, and the fake smile disappeared from Eve’s face as she turned expressionless.

“…Yes, a yoke.” She reached up and touched her cheek, then looked at her fingers, probably checking for blood. “Aren’t you going to ask me how I got this wound?”

“How’d you get it?” Lawrence immediately asked, at which Eve’s shoulders shook with mirth, and she covered her mouth like a town lass.

The fact that she seemed genuinely amused was painful to see.

“Well played. It’s not that I’m asking you only because you’re in the best position.”

“But I’m also not badly placed to cross that dangerous bridge.”

This was not merely banter.

The moment he let his guard down was the moment he’d be crossing that bridge free of charge.

“My exploiting a gap and your protecting what you have are not the same thing.”

“Indeed. My conversations with my companion cut me to the bone.”

Constantly on the defensive, Lawrence knew he would eventually lose to Eve.

She nodded and changed her expression. “There’s no longer much doubt. The north-side fisherman caught a narwhal.”

“A nar—” Lawrence began, but then hastily checked the door over his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, he’s not such cheap help that he’d eavesdrop on me. The people who locked me up here are terrified I’ll get angry, even though they did this to me.”

Lawrence didn’t know how far he could trust that, but there was nothing to be gained by doubting them.

He nodded and faced forward, then asked the question again. “A narwhal? As in the immortal sort?”

“Yes. A horned sea monster. Eating its flesh brings longevity, and its powdered horn cures all diseases.”

Lawrence believed such things to be superstitions, and from Eve’s tone, it seemed she was not serious.

“I’d heard that without freezing water they die, so how would one make it this far south?”

“According to the sailors, depending on the severity of the weather, fish and other creatures can be driven south—though I’d never heard of that happening to a narwhal. When they’re trafficked, it’s almost always deer bones or horns.”

There were any number of tales about immortality methods and cure-all medicines.

Moreover, orthodox believers seemed every bit as inclined to believe them as pagans did.

People’s desire to believe in a land free of sickness and suffering where one went after death was proof the world was filled with suffering, and likewise the very fact of the Church’s teachings meant that eternal life could never actually be gained.

Travelers and merchants who wandered many lands, seeing all sorts of goods and talking with all sorts of people, as well as soldiers for whom death or old age were constant companions—they all knew such stories were mere superstitions.

But there were many who did not know.

And aristocrats who’d never left their lands were a perfect example.

For a living narwhal, there were some who’d come running, bringing all their gold with them.

“But…surely that doesn’t mean—”

“Yes. If they have the narwhal, the north-side faction believes they can turn everything around.”

For a moment, Lawrence thought the leg of his chair had broken, so stricken was he at the enormity of the prospect.

This town had enough conflict even in the best of times, and now an article had been found that could flip the balance entirely.

There would be war.

Lawrence realized it instantly.

“The south-side faction wants to control this side at any cost. They can’t have equality. It would be bad enough if the north gets the narwhal and sells it to raise the money to pay their debts, and the possibility that they might just involve a landed lord and go straight to war can’t be ruled out, either. So the south can’t let them have it, no matter the cost. They’ll steal it, sell it—two birds, one stone. It will raise an enormous amount.”

And if they stormed the church grounds, that would constitute an act of war against the Church.

“So what say you? If you can slip through this passage, don’t you think something incredible awaits you on the other side?”

She was right.

Eve was surely trying to use Lawrence’s membership in the Rowen Trade Guild to its maximum advantage.

Relations between north and south in this town were at their worst.

Yet in the midst of that, Lawrence had managed to connect with Eve while going unnoticed in the town, which gave him a rare ability.

For a spy, there could be no better position.

But there was something Lawrence had not mentioned.

And that was that he’d already told Kieman about his acquaintance with Eve.

“Will you do it? No…” Eve shook her head deliberately, then looked straight at Lawrence. “What will it take to convince you to do it?”

This would unquestionably involve betraying the guild.

Eve was well aware of that, and the people in the south certainly knew what a trade guild was.

And so Lawrence spoke.

No matter what the reward, Lawrence was confident that as long as it was something he could hold in his hands, it would be granted him.

There was simply that much profit at stake here.

“If I say I’ll consider it?”

Eve silently shook her head.

If he refused the offer to become an agent for her, it would not be strange of her to immediately consider him an enemy.

Or at the very least, treat him as such.

Which meant there could be hesitation.

That would be nothing less than hesitation over which side he would ally with, and no one was less trustworthy than a spy.

And yet Lawrence hesitated.

There was no telling what Kieman might be planning, but this could be used.

What would Kieman say if Lawrence told him about this?

With absurd profit piled on both sides of the scale, it didn’t easily move either way.

Merchants were always weighing profit and loss.

No, indeed, what else could there be to consider?

“About the wolf remains, was it?” asked Eve flatly, either seeing through Lawrence or having planned to incorporate that into her negotiation all along. “You’ve good instincts, so I’m sure you noticed that Reynolds is quite serious about them. And that he wants my help.”

Eve smiled thinly.

Evidently Lawrence had done just as she expected he would with Reynolds and the story of the wolf remains.

She probably even had some idea of whom Reynolds wanted to get in contact with.

“…You knew, and you still wrote me that letter.”

“Are you angry?”

“Not at all. I’m glad my guess was right.”

Eve smiled cynically, standing up from her chair and tossing two more logs onto the fire.

“There aren’t many in the north who can afford wood for their fireplaces. Most burn peat.”

“And yet I hear there’s more charity on this side.”

“Heh. That lad will be popular no matter where he goes.”

It was enough to make Lawrence want to know just how sweaty Eve’s palms were.

Her expression changed readily, but he could tell well enough that she was hiding her true thoughts.

“So how about it? It’s quite an opportunity, I reckon.”

“Oh, I’m sure it is.”

But demons were always offering great power—in exchange for life.

If Lawrence accepted this, there was no question he would damage the trade guild’s profits.

Not only that, but if they were to find out, he would either be cast out or punished.

He claimed not to be worried about Holo, but then he remembered Kieman’s sudden change, his cold countenance.

And as a merchant, it was no exaggeration to say that his life would be over.

“Did you see Kieman?” Eve asked.

It wasn’t out of any particularly iron-clad self-control that Lawrence didn’t show surprise on his face.

Eve’s words were just so accurate that his shock stunned him into blankness.

“I reckon my name would be sure to come up if you went to the guild house looking for information. I can see his face now,” said Eve with what seemed to be simple amusement, as though she were talking about an old friend.

Or else—were even men like Kieman part of Eve’s plots?

No, that couldn’t be, Lawrence told himself.

“Yes, quite…he’s a great merchant, as I recall.”

“He certainly is. There’s a gifted trader in every guild, and he’s the one,” said an animated Eve.

“So, why do you mention this Mr. Kieman?”

“He’s no one to be trifled with, and he’s been chasing me obsessively. Can’t blame me for feeling threatened, eh?”

Eve’s narrowed eyes looked distinctly wolflike, perfectly suited to a silvery frozen forest.

“…Quite.”

“Anyway, he’s a formidable man, no question. He’s burned me several times over.”

Eve looked down at the table, a thin smile playing over her lips.

Memories let one smile even at unhappy things.

But Eve did not have time to waste on introspection.

“Hey.”

“Yes?”

“If it comes down to that, what would you say to dropping the guild?”

The notion struck Lawrence as more absurd than surprising. “Where would a merchant who’d left his guild go?” he asked.

Membership brought an expanded business network, various rights and privileges, name recognition, all the various profits that came along with those things.

It also provided the peace of mind of knowing you had comrades all across the land.

Leaving those protections was hardly different from choosing bankruptcy.

“You should come work for me,” said Eve, fingering the corner of the parchment.

“For you?”

“Yes. Come work for me.”

Lawrence remembered the words Reynolds had used: “Bolan Company.”

Did such a thing truly exist? Lawrence wondered, as Eve’s gaze became distant, and she pointed to her own mouth and spoke.

“I’m locked up in here on the orders of the guy who gave me this wound,” she said, indicating the corner of her mouth with a finger—a finger that was feminine, but somehow differently than Holo’s.

It was slender and long, but somehow sturdy as well.

Like a sailor preparing to resist the song of the mermaids, Lawrence readied himself to pour lead into his ears.

“He’s the grandson of one of the landowners that originally signed the delta marketplace contracts. He’s two years younger than me, but his wits and drive for wealth are about the same as mine. And he holds them about as dearly as I do.”

Another cynical smile.

Lawrence wondered if the loneliness he saw in her face was just an illusion.

“He dreams of getting out of this town. Talks with a straight face of getting the narwhal and using the money to head south and found a great trading company. ‘With you I could outwit the old men,’ he raged, and struck me with his left hand, then grabbed me by the shoulder.”

Then Eve paused, almost laughing softly, but Lawrence saw her cover it up with a deep breath.

But the smile she swallowed became her flesh and blood, and then it showed purposefully on her face.

“There’s no way not to betray this, don’t you think?”

From Eve’s mouth came terrifying words.

She was wooing Lawrence to convince him to betray the trade guild and collect information about the narwhal.

And that in turn was to help the landowners regain their power in Kerube.

But that was only on the surface. The son of one of the landowners was attempting to have the creature for himself, so he could abandon Kerube and go south.

And Eve was saying she would betray that son.

She faced Lawrence.

She spoke. She, whom he had already betrayed.

“Kieman is trying to use me.”

Lawrence’s head couldn’t keep up with Eve’s words.

One by one they piled up too high, and he couldn’t make sense of them.

“He knows that wayward son is madly in love with me, you see. So he’ll contrive to deceive the son through me.”

It was like being blindfolded and led onto a battlefield.

Eve was painting a picture with the things Lawrence didn’t know, with the things he couldn’t know, and with the things whose truth he couldn’t possibly discern.

And even if the picture were explained to him, he wouldn’t understand it.

It was impossible to understand.

“His goal is to choke the life out of the landowners. Most likely, he’ll try to get them to sign a contract that gives him the rights to the land in exchange for handing over the narwhal. The titles will go to Kieman, and the narwhal will be stolen by the son. You would think it absurd, no? Well, just watch me give the plan to that wayward son. When’s the actual answer, you ask?”

To avoid suffocating her audience, Eve posed a question even her audience could answer.

“You’ve gotten past the love affair.”

She nodded, satisfied, perhaps because Lawrence had not gotten out of his seat.

“Kieman, of course, understands why I’m thinking about all of this. The old men hate change. We’d be best rid of these circumstances, but for long years there’s been no way to change them. That’s true for both the north and south sides. And it’s also true that the younger generation is frustrated. I’ll bet Kieman’s been going mad trying to figure something out, some way to overturn the strange balance of Kerube and reform the town, along the way outwitting the other companies and trade guilds and making a real name for himself. Cleverly, rationally, and for his own reasons.”

“Or at least that’s the picture the trap you’ve surely readied is using.”

It was all Lawrence could say.

Eve showed Lawrence both palms in a gesture of surrender.

He knew perfectly well he was being made fun of.

“I have no way of verifying the truth of these things you’ve said. So on what do you suppose I should found my decision?”

The wolf of the Roam River territory smiled and answered, “Your past experiences.”

“I’ve been deceived before.”

“Indeed, you have. But a wise merchant said something, once.” It was somehow odd that her curled lip was not baring a sharp fang. “Suspect deception, but be deceived,” said Eve, and chuckled.

It was enough to make Lawrence wonder if she were drunk.

No, she surely was, for this strange exchange of illusions within illusions.

Lawrence prepared himself and stood up from his chair.

It would only be dangerous to remain here.

“I assume your answer is ‘nay’?”

Despite a conversation for which she should have been so drunk she would’ve been unsteady on her feet, Eve’s voice was as cold and clear as a winter stream.

Hence the cold shiver down his back, Lawrence was sure.

“Kieman will most likely ask for your cooperation, since you’re in such an exceedingly convenient position. And by the way…,” said Eve, smiling happily. “Ted Reynolds of the Jean Company wants to use my connections. If I wish him to, I’m sure I can have him whisper the name of the person he wishes to do business with to me. You were following the stories of the wolf bones, weren’t you?”

Eve Bolan, the merchant and onetime noblewoman.

Lawrence’s hand unconsciously went for the knife at his belt.

“If you think I’m unarmed, you’re quite mistaken.” The smile disappeared from Eve’s face.

She’d claimed he wasn’t listening, but there was a guard with a sword standing watch outside the door. And he doubted he was some mere neighborhood ruffian.

And anyway, merchants best avoided sword fights.

Lawrence slowly pulled his hand away from the knife, gave a short bow, turned his back, and began to walk away.

Eve’s words came just as he was putting his hand to the door.

“You’ll regret it.”

The same words Kieman had said.

Lawrence clenched his teeth and opened the door.

There in the hallway, the guard leaned against the wall, eyes closed, just as before.

He looked as he passed by and saw the sword, clasp undone, ready to be drawn at a moment’s notice.

“Tell no one,” the guard said.

Lawrence didn’t nod, didn’t even reply, and not because the order somehow went without saying.

He couldn’t tell anyone.

He’d considered himself a full-fledged traveling merchant for many years now—long enough to know perfectly well just how small he was.

And yet he’d just glimpsed a piece of a terrifying structure.

A gamble with a truly unbelievable amount of money.

He couldn’t rid himself of the thought of it.

When he opened the front door of the building, a carriage was waiting, and it had been readied for Lawrence.

“Sir, please.”

On the opposite side of the driver were the three workers still cutting the hide.

And then Lawrence realized.

They were lookouts.

He accepted the proffered cloak and draped it low over his head as he climbed into the carriage.

He asked himself if he should seek Kieman’s protection. Given how much of her own hand Eve had shown, Lawrence couldn’t imagine that Kieman would leave him be.

Any deal in a market where the prices were unknown was best abandoned.

Lawrence was lost in contemplation, and before he knew it, he arrived at his inn’s rear entrance.

Forcing the strained muscles in his face to move, he thanked the driver, entering the inn and heaving a deep sigh.

The innkeeper’s face peeked in—he probably heard the door open and close—and Lawrence wordlessly returned the cloak. He must have looked terrible indeed, for the innkeeper offered him a drink, but Lawrence refused it and made straight for the room.

The best course of action would be to escape before they were sniffed out here and before Kieman turned serious.

But now that he knew for certain that the Jean Company was pursuing the tale, there was a possibility that he could use them in some other city to begin collecting information again.

Lawrence put his hand to the door and opened it.

What he needed to do now was protect his tiny boat from the approaching storm.

No picture could possibly have captured the look on his face in that moment.

“Something came for you,” said Holo.

She held up a sheet of parchment, and Lawrence knew at a glance what it was.

It had the seal of the Rowen Trade Guild.

The red wax impression of the seal seemed, without any exaggeration, like the signature of some demon.

Though his mouth went dry, he tried desperately to swallow.

The guild had long since discovered where he was staying.

Kieman was serious.

And everything Eve said was true.

Talk was continuing over Lawrence’s head.

The huge gears made a terrible grinding sound as they turned.