It pained Lawrence to hear it, but Holo had been eating cookies at an absurd rate—even the villagers, who felt they owed her a great debt, were stunned into silence by the sight of her devouring the treats.
He felt he could warn her a bit without risking retribution.
“Mmph,” Holo continued. “We surely met with calamity this time around.”
It was a forced change of subject, but she was not wrong.
“Well, at least we turned a profit in the end.”
“Is that all you care about?” laughed Holo, her cheeks stuffed with cookie. “For my part, I cannot say that my hopes were met, but I did well enough. I suppose it was worth the effort.”
She looked at the book that recorded the tales of the Moon-Hunting Bear—which she had now read fully three times—and sighed. “So, where are we going next?”
“Lenos. There’s a legend there in which you personally appear.”
“Mm. I suppose it would be a bother to get caught in snow because we dragged our feet. We’d best get on with it.”
Lawrence knew that Holo’s true desire was to head north as soon as possible, but when he considered the journey that lay ahead, it was no wonder that the idea of lounging about in a suddenly comfortable village was appealing.
He was somewhat surprised that she was ready to go after just three days.
“Shall we?” she said.
“Quite.”
As soon as Lawrence and Holo emerged from the church, the villagers gathered to send them off.
Gloomy apologies like “Sorry we doubted you” were long since done with.
All that remained were happy wishes for safe travel.
“May God’s blessing go with you,” said Elsa, a gentle smile on her face.
This was enough to make a man happy—which Lawrence was despite the foot stomp he received from Holo.
“Mr. Lawrence,” said Evan, holding Elsa’s hand. “Thank you for teaching me so much. I’ll work hard here.”
It was the constant suspicion of the villagers that had made Evan want to leave the village to become a merchant.
Things had changed now, though, and Evan chose to stay in the village and take responsibility for future negotiations with Enberch.
Elsa and Evan’s hands were tightly clasped together. His decision to stay had obviously been the right one as anyone could tell.
“A traveler does not leave regret behind in a village, but good memories. Farewell!”
Lawrence gripped the reins, and the horse began its amble.
Wrapped in the faint sunlight of winter, the wagon clattered its way out of the small village of Tereo.
Elsa, Evan, and Sem all waved from where they stood in front of the church, and even Lawrence looked back twice to wave.
But their forms soon shrank and disappeared.
Lawrence’s travels with Holo had begun again.
Their destination was Lenos.
From there, they would head northeast.
It would be just around the end of spring at the opening of summer, Lawrence mused, when they would finally arrive in Yoitsu.
As Lawrence thought this over, Holo immediately took a bag of cookies out and dug in.
The solemn, contemplative atmosphere that came with newly begun travel was shattered by the crunching of cookies.
“Hm?” Holo looked up questioningly, her mouth full of cookies, and Lawrence decided her blank face had its own charms.
The smile he had upon seeing her innocent face soon evaporated. “Summer,” he murmured to himself.
Immediately thereafter, he noticed something approaching his face. He looked to find it was a cookie. “Don’t look at me so desirously,” she said sourly.
“I’ve had plenty, thanks,” said Lawrence.
Holo did not relent. “Your face says otherwise.” She shoved the cookie at him again.
Lawrence gave up and accepted it, taking a bite.
A particularly large amount of honey had been added to the cookies that the village had given Holo so they were quite sweet.
Such things were not at all bad once in a while, he mused.
Yet Holo still looked at him, somehow dissatisfied.
“What?”
“Nothing,” said Holo, looking ahead and taking another bite of her cookie.
She obviously wanted to say something—but what?
Lawrence thought this over, and it came to him.
Oh, but that—that was too unfair.
She wanted to make him say it—it was a trap.
And yet if he did not fall into the trap, she was sure to be angry.
There was nothing to be done.
Lawrence made his decision, popped the last piece of cookie into his mouth, and spoke.
“Hey.”
“Mm?”
Holo turned toward him, the picture of innocence.
Her tail swished expectantly beneath her robes.
Lawrence played along with her ridiculous farce.
“There’s some business where there’s good money to be made,” he said.
“Oh?”
“It’ll take us out of our way, though.”
Holo made an exaggeratedly irritated face and sighed.
Yet she did not ask for any further details, simply smiling in a vaguely resigned fashion. “I suppose it cannot be helped. I shall accompany you.”
Holo did not want their journey to end.
Lawrence believed this—and it was precisely because she didn’t want it to end that she affected this attitude.
She would never have admitted this, though.
What a charmless girl.
“So, tell me about this business,” she said with a happy smile.
Lawrence chewed his last piece of cookie and thanked whatever god had given him this bittersweet sensation.
AFTERWORD
Hello! It has been quite a while. I am Isuna Hasekura, and this is the fourth volume.
What’s more, this makes it a full year since Spice and Wolf debuted. Time certainly does fly.
It seems like just the other day I was going to the Twelfth Dengeki Novel Prize party, dressed in a suit and desperately nervous— and just recently I attended the Thirteenth.
Time has moved so fast, in fact, that I didn’t have time to get my suit cleaned and wound up going in my civvies. That’s the reason why there in the sea of suits and ties was me, wandering around in my dingy jeans. The roast beef was excellent.
Speaking of which, the year-end party for Dengeki Publishing is coming up in a couple of weeks, and I cannot wait to see what delicious things they’ll serve. I really want to bring along some Tupperware to take leftovers home with me, but it’s been only a year since my debut, and I’m thinking that’s the kind of thing I shouldn’t do until I’m a more established veteran.
It’s so beautiful in my mind: I’ll grow a beard, smoke a pipe, and wave my cane around as I swagger into the hall, making for the sushi table and taking it home with me. Part of me says that my idea of a veteran author is a little off, but I’ve decided not to worry about it. Oh yeah—I can’t forget to bring some pickled ginger back with the sushi. I’d be a failure as a gentleman otherwise.
Now that I’ve filled some space, some thanks are due.
To Jyuu Ayakura-sensei, whose illustrations have once again turned out just as I have imagined them, my sincere thanks. When I was looking at the roughs, there would be a single character who would look too much like I imagined him, and I would have to laugh.
My deep thanks likewise go to my esteemed editor, Koetsu-sama, for carefully checking my shaky manuscripts. If they made me do that job myself, I’d probably give up halfway through. Thank you so much.
And to all of you who now hold this book in your hands, my deepest thanks. I hope that you also enjoy the next volume.
I shall see you then.
Isuna Hasekura
Isuna Hasekura
Born December 27, 1982. Winner of the Twelfth Dengeki Novel Prize S
ilver Medal. Studying physics at college, he’s a romantic who up until recently believed that the sky was blue because it was reflecting the color of the ocean. He remains undecided on negative ions and oxygenated water.
Works from Dengeki Bunko:
Spice and Wolf
Spice and Wolf II
Spice and Wolf III
Spice and Wolf IV
Jyuu Ayakura
Born 1981. Birthplace: Kyoto. Blood Type: AB. Currently living a free, Spartan life in Tokyo, he has been thus far unsuccessful in putting his temple-hiking plans into action
Isuna Hasekura, Spice and Wolf, Vol. 4
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