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, w
hich 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.