Page 3 of Town of Strife I


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

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

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

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

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

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

  He must have thought he was being made sport of.

  Lawrence grimaced and heaved a long-suffering sigh.

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

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

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

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

  “So Arold has not yet arrived, then?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Yes, about a cursed story.”

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

  Lawrence nodded, and Eve’s gaze became distant.

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

  “And the truth?”

  A child could be heard crying far away.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  Col noticed this and looked up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “And that is?”

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

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

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

  Col froze, suddenly surprised.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Meaning?”

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

  Eve narrowed her eyes, her lips curling still further.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  Eve’s shoulders shook with her voiceless laugh.

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

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

  Even as he laughed, Lawrence thought it a shame.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  Eve was a merchant’s merchant.

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

  Lawrence drooped his head respectfully.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “And if I come while the sun’s up?”

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

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

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

  And now it seemed that was no lie.

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

  Col gaped at Eve, his mouth wide open.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Um…y-yes, she is…”

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

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

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

  “…I…see…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  Evidently, Col was often like this.

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

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

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

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

  But Lawrence did not know why Col was so affected.

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

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

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

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

  As he walked, Col looked at his feet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  Lawrence scratched his head, tilting it in confusion.

  He did not understand.

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

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