“Hey, Brother. You know what you believe, and you looked like you were really enjoying yourself, concentrating on your translation work, so I didn’t say anything.”
There was a degree of sincerity in the eyes gazing up at him that he had never seen in her before.
“Copies of your translation are circulating, too, and it’s like it’s okay to insult the Church any way they like now that they have that.”
“That was not what the translation was—”
“It seems like it doesn’t really matter what you think or what’s written on it.”
Details like God’s word did not matter. There were even merchants who, when they saw him carrying out his daily task of recitation of the scripture, thought it good luck and bowed their head for protection. That was normal.
“So you really have to be careful. That blondie might have acted knowing this would happen.”
“That’s…”
“Nothing comes out of that mouth but good things.”
Only half of half of the world.
He stared hard back at Myuri, but he could not respond. When he averted his eyes, he could see the dog that was being teased. Had he been too naive? But faith was an innocent thing. If innocence and naïveté were bad, then what should he do?
Certainly, Col did not think that Hyland was acting entirely on saintly motives. However, he was sure righteousness lay at the end of their path.
The feeling left him uncertain of everything.
He wanted so desperately to read the scripture.
“Myuri.”
“Hmm?”
He spoke as he watched the dog being baited while the men roared with laughter.
“Let’s return to the trading house.”
He was not translating the scripture for the sake of such ill will. He did not want to make a fool of the Church’s authority. He simply wanted to state that there were inconsistencies and then rectify them.
Of course, these sorts of people did not represent everyone, and he could not imagine Hyland was egging them on. But still, it made him realize that he was only looking at a quarter of the world.
“Okay.”
He had expected she might make a fuss, wanting to buy more to eat, but she responded easily.
She separated herself from the wall and was about to walk off, but she twirled around to face him.
“Do you want me to hold your hand?”
Col had worked hard for his ideals but then found unforeseen malice in the townspeople. Perhaps his disappointment was visible on his face. Myuri was teasing him while making sure he was all right.
He could not tell which one of them was supposed to be older.
“…It’s not my fault if I get lost,” he said.
“Hey!”
Myuri pulled him along as they went back the way they came.
She walked quickly, likely because she wished to pull him out of the vulgar atmosphere of town as soon as possible. Though she was noisy, selfish, and sometimes said such terrible things that astonished him, she was a good girl.
And his line of thinking continued.
If Myuri was such a good girl, then it would not be odd to find others who were just as good.
Col knew that once one began doubting the world, there was no end to it, and he understood that there were bad people. In fact, his meeting Lawrence came about when he had just been swindled by a crook.
So while some made a fool of the Church’s authority simply in order to lighten their mood, most people would read the common-language version of the scripture and understand both the Church’s righteousness and sins. At least, that was what he wanted to believe.
Col and Myuri returned to the trading house and headed up toward the third floor, weaving through the people who were still working at this hour.
“You can do what you want, but today you have to sleep properly! Okay?!”
“Yes, yes.”
He smiled at Myuri as she howled at him and opened the door. Then the smell of ink enveloped him, easing the anxiety in his heart from the commotion outside.
The scent was that of knowledge and tranquility.
“I’d like to wash my face before sleeping, however. And Myuri, you smell like dirt, so please go get some water—”
As he spoke and lit the candle, he finally noticed that Myuri had stopped in the doorway.
“Myuri?”
She did not respond to him, and as he thought he saw her shivering, her ears and tail appeared. Then, she entered the room and closed the door, sniffing.
He thought it must be some sort of joke, but as though drawn in by an invisible string, she walked in a straight line and stopped before the desk.
“Myuri.”
It was not a question but a call. The manuscript of the translation he had just finished was stacked neatly on the desk. Nothing had changed most likely since before they left the room.
“Someone was here while we were gone. Many ‘someones.’”
However, there was no denying the tension in the bristling hair on Myuri’s tail and ears.
In addition, this room did not lock. Anyone could come and go as they pleased.
“Could someone have stolen something?”
He turned the bundle of parchment over, shining a candle over it to check. However, the number of pages was correct, and the handwriting was his own.
“It has not been marked over…Perhaps someone came to read purely out of interest?”
There were fervent believers within the company. They had likely heard a rumor that the translation would be finished soon and come to read it, but no one was here, so they instead read it on their own because they could not wait.
As he contemplated, Myuri, who had bent over to sniff around the desk, stood up and rubbed her nose.
“I don’t know. All I know is that someone was here. If I could be a wolf like Mother, then I might be able to tell who,” Myuri said regretfully and sneezed.
While she could hide and show her ears and tail at will, she could not become a giant wolf like her mother, Holo. That was perhaps because she also had human blood.
“Anyway, you need to be careful, okay?”
“I will. However, I do not think it would be wise to doubt people too much.”
Myuri waved her tail slowly, frowning at Col when he insisted, arms still folded.
Then he sighed and shrugged, as though surrendering.
“Well then, I will go retrieve hot water…Just in case, stick my short sword into the floor and use the hilt to keep the door shut.”
“If we’re going through that much effort, then I’m coming with you.”
She sounded angry, and he considered that was also an option.
He placed the lit candle onto a handheld stand and was about to leave the room.
“Oh, someone just came up to the third floor. I think these are Lewis’s footsteps,” Myuri said as her ears twitched. That was likely the name of another errand boy she had made friends with as she worked. When he thought that they might as well ask for water while they were at it, she suddenly hid her ears and tail. There was a knock at the door only a few moments later.
“Pardon me for intruding while you rest.”
There came a proper greeting. This person was probably not whoever came into the room while they were gone and did as they pleased.
“Come in,” Col responded. The door opened, and there was a boy about two or three years older than Myuri.
“Pardon me. Heir Hyland has called for you.”
When he said that, Col realized that Hyland was perhaps the one who had visited. As his client, he had the right to read the completed product whenever he pleased, and doubtless he did not think much of going into a commoner’s room without permission.
“Very well. We shall go posthaste,” he replied, and the boy bowed his head respectfully. Col saw him look inside the room. The boy’s composed expression turned into a smile, and he gave a little wave.
Of course, Col wa
s kind enough to pretend he did not notice.
They closed the door, and Myuri grinned as she leaned against the desks the scribes used.
“Was that Lewis?”
“Yeah. We were at the port together, and he fell into the sea twice.”
He could not tell for sure if she was smiling because they were close or because she was recalling how silly he was for falling into the sea. Perhaps both.
“Well then, I will be going to Heir Hyland, so…”
He purposefully trailed off.
“I’m going, too.”
“There might not be any candy this time.”
“It’s fine. If you feed me too much, I might not be able to see anything else.”
In reality, perhaps Hyland enjoyed giving candy to Myuri as much as taming a cautious beast in the mountains.
“You cannot do anything rude.”
“Okay.”
She left the desk and exited the room first.
As he was about to follow her, he suddenly turned back to face the room.
Would it be all right to simply leave the translation manuscript as it was?
“Brother?”
Myuri called to him from the hallway, and after a moment of hesitation, he decided to bring it with him.
At any rate, he had to announce that he had finished translating everything up to the seventh chapter.
“Sorry to keep you waiting.”
“Yeah. Since I got blueberries and apples last time, I guess pears are next.”
He smiled at Myuri’s gluttony as she forecasted what candy would be available and began walking.
But at the end of the long hallway, beyond the reach of the light in his hands, there was a deep darkness.
There was no harm in being careful.
He amended his opinion as they headed to Hyland.
Hyland had summoned them long after night had fallen. Moreover, he had begun talks with the archbishop just the day before.
He presumably had many reasons for calling on them.
“Oh, there you are.”
Once they were let into the room, Hyland greeted them from a table with a blindingly white cloth draped over it. Food sat on it, but it seemed like it had gone cold a while ago.
“I am sorry; we were out eating.”
“It’s fine.” Hyland smiled wryly, fiddling with a knife. “I’m not very hungry.”
He let go of the knife and leaned back in the chair.
“I’m sure you are strained under negotiations. Please do not push yourself.”
“Strained…I don’t think that’s quite it. Maybe unwell or disappointed.”
Hyland’s choice of words did not bode well for the negotiations.
“Is the archbishop being stubborn even with the townspeople’s support?”
Then, Hyland gave a slight laugh.
“The townspeople’s support, huh?”
Col could tell that Myuri, standing beside him, was falling into a sour mood. There was a slight sneer to Hyland’s smile. However, that was not meant for them.
“I thought so, too. But the ones making noise are all of the lower class.”
Cargo men at the dock, fishermen, and day laborers.
“And those like them know nothing except how to clamor violently. Today, a pastor under the archbishop was called in to support him, but when he arrived at the church, he sank to the floor. The man was terrified, as if he had just fled a battlefield.”
That was likely the pastor whom Myuri had talked about before—the one who was greeted with applause and cheers in a place he was not welcome.
“Do you know how they see me now as a result of that?” Hyland lamented, sitting tiredly in front of the food that had long gone cold. “They think I am trying to incite a civil war and annex this town into the kingdom.”
“What?”
This was completely unrelated to the fighting between the Kingdom of Winfiel and the pope.
“Are you aware some are posting the translation of the scripture around town and waving it about? Because of that, the archbishop shouted at me, claiming that the translation was false and it was actually literature to incite a revolt.”
“No…”
“Of course, anyone can see it’s real by reading it. I even presented it to the archbishop. But since they presume that the symbol of the town’s authority will lead our revolution, all the important people here are hesitant. On the off chance his judgment was actually true, then supporting me would be taking the side of a rebel.”
Hyland spoke in a self-deprecating way, and there was pain in his slight smile.
In addition, the courteousness of Stefan, who directed this Debau Company trading house, was keeping Hyland at a more respectful distance rather than offering respect itself. They conducted trade here, and it was more profitable for them not to challenge the authorities.
Along that vein of thinking, he felt he had an idea of who might have come into their room to read the translation manuscript while they were out. It must have been someone from the Debau Company who came to check and make sure he was not writing an essay in that room that called for revolution.
Hyland inhaled deeply before a long and slow exhale.
“Back home, more and more people are losing God’s protection at each major turning point in their lives, thanks to the pope. It’s not that we don’t believe in God. It’s not that we are using this opportunity to take over territories of other countries. We are simply unsatisfied with how the pope is placing God’s protection and money on the same scale. I don’t understand…how he can’t comprehend such simple logic.”
He tightened his fist, and it shook on the table. Col understood his dismay and did the same.
However, when Hyland finally relaxed his fist, there was an embarrassed smile on his face.
“Or perhaps, he is trying to rile me up. The moment you become angered is the moment you lose. Especially in negotiations.”
Hyland reached out to his drink, took a sip, then spoke.
“It was the same in the discussion with the archbishop in Lenos. He lined up all the people he could and had them all throw any insult they liked at me. That makes even the darkest things seem light.”
Church authorities could not remove Hyland by force, so instead they used the tyranny of the majority.
“And so, Col. I have something to ask of you.”
“Of me?”
“I want to increase my numbers, even by a little. I don’t know if he will try the same strategy tomorrow, but I want you to come with me to the negotiations.”
Col was about to respond to this unexpected result, but Hyland stopped him with a smile.
“I may ask for theological advice, but I won’t ask you to speak actively. I just want you to be there for dignity’s sake. I’ve told him that you are a young and accomplished scholar who keeps company with famous theologians. It should be effective enough if you simply stand there with a stern expression. The archbishop would never quiz you on the scripture. They did not reach their posts through the teachings of God but gained their seats navigating secular society.”
It seemed Hyland’s impression had formed after actually talking to them rather than mere prejudice.
“And even though the archbishop has never actually read the scripture, this is a port town. He would know the names of famous priests who pass by on their way to and from Nyohhira. If we mention some of their names and characteristics and talk as though you have a mentor, then perhaps the priests may consider you the equal of renowned theologians.”
Col felt like a scarecrow trying to chase off birds from the new shoots in a field, but he would do anything as long as it would help.
“I really don’t want to use such an awkward strategy. It seems, however, that the wonderful world in which people recognize their own folly upon hearing the truth only exists in books.”
Hyland seemed to be wearing down thanks to the gap between ideals and reality.
But at the mention of b
ooks, Col remembered he had a bundle of ideals in his own hands.
“By the way, about the translation, I’ve completed a provisional draft of everything up to the seventh chapter.”
“Oh!”
Hyland’s face suddenly brightened, and that made Col happy, too.
“I’m sure it will need editing, but I think the general idea comes across well.”
“No, thank you for your hard work.”
Col handed him the parchment, and Hyland skimmed the words with an affectionate expression.
“Mm…Ah, this is good.”
It was most certainly lip service, but Col allowed himself a bit of pride as a reward.
“I’m sorry I don’t have time to read it all. How much of this has been copied so far?”
“The copies reach about halfway through the seventh chapter. I just finished the rest of the chapter today, so I think I can copy it by morning. I’ll give that to the scribes so when we bring this part to the Church, they can continue to make copies.”
“Thank you for such quick thinking. Can you do that for me?”
“Of course.”
After taking back the parchment from Hyland, Col found hope in the steady progress and future prospects for their work.
“This is a historical first step, the opening move to provide people with the ability to read the scripture and realize what is right. I’m counting on you, Col.”
Col accepted Hyland’s encouragement and left the room.
Col ended up staying up by the candle that night, but Myuri was not angry. She did not send him out, but instead carefully read the translation beside him as he made copies. It was a fleeting hope of his that she would finally awaken to God’s teachings. She was perhaps unhappy that he had been given work once again, maybe because she was being neglected or maybe because she did not fancy Hyland.
When she suddenly rested her head on his shoulder as they worked, the gesture was also an expression of discontent.
The typically noisy girl was able to finish reading the entire translation without saying a single word.
When she lifted her head, she stretched and yawned, checking his progress. Once she saw that he still had a while to go, she stood up without saying anything in particular and headed straight for bed.