Spice & Wolf IX (DWT)

  Everything they’d seen in Gerube finally fell into place as if tied by one string. This would not only explain how Reynolds could gather so much cash so quickly, but also the other odd goings-on around him. The money was Reynolds’.

  Regardless of who Reynolds’ backer was, they’d live far, far away. They wouldn’t know the current situation, and when news finally reached them it would already be over. That’s why he involved the Church. Their involvement would legitimize and sanctify the deal. If things turned out profitably, all the better for the Church.

  This really wasn’t funny, but it still made Lawrence laugh. He wasn’t going to let Reynolds run away with the profits. Everything was in his reach, he just had to grasp it.

  “Let’s go.”

  Lawrence began running, but..

  “Hey, why aren’t you two-”

  He turned back angrily.

  “I am not going.”

  Holo stood her ground and smiled back at him.

  “..don’t be that way now! It’s alright, I’m not being irrational! I’ve got it under control!”

  Holo shook her head.

  “That is not what I mean.”

  “Then-”

  She cut him off before he could add “what do you mean?”

  “I do not wish to see you showing off in front of other females.”

  She said this like an embarrassed young maiden, then stuck her tongue out playfully. Where had she learned to be so devious? He could only smile back, knowing that’s what she wanted him to do.

  “You take my breath away.”

  “Hmph. Then you will just cast me aside and run to her?”

  He shut his eyes and sighed deeply. Eve’s words had been prophetic; flowers truly wouldn’t be good enough for Holo.

  “Cole!”

  “Yes! Leave it to me!”

  Lawrence still saw tears on the boy’s face, but his smile was genuine. If Lawrence had to comfortably leave Holo in someone else’s hands without feeling jealous, it could only be Cole.

  “Oh ho.. how amusing.”

  Holo’s smile reappeared before she released a mild sigh.

  “Very well, off you go. They may be parading about slowly, but they must nearly be there.”

  Lawrence took her meaning and immediately turned around to run. He was well aware of how dangerous it was to turn one’s back on someone in an alley, but he still did so. When he looked back he saw both of them waving at him. That quick glance was more than enough; he ran with determination to the church.

  * * *

  The church seemed very busy when he arrived. As night fell the normal citizenry headed home for supper. Only merchants would be here now, all curious to see what was happening but too nervous to get close enough to get swept up into things.

  A path had been cleared to the church entrance for Reynolds and his associates. The mood felt like the calm before a storm. During this relatively peaceful moment, Lawrence made his way across the wide road and rushed up to the entrance.

  “..”

  At first the soldiers and merchants had no idea what was happening. Perhaps they figured Lawrence was Reynold’s messenger, since they silently stared at him while he ran. It was only when Lawrence tried to enter the church that a soldier finally bellowed at him.

  Of course that didn’t stop him, since the door was wide open for the arrival of Reynolds. He ran without hesitation into the church, and to the far end of the corridor. He thought he glimpsed objects on the floor in the candlelight; probably letters discussing the trade.

  The door to Keeman’s room was open a crack. Lawrence pushed his way in, but no one was actually there. The swiftness with which things were moving almost made him lose his footing. Please don’t let me be too late, he gasped, and ran down the stairs to the underground jail.

  He saw light; someone had to be there. But the quietness around him made Lawrence apprehensive. When a man finally took notice of him and began walking up the stairs, the sight of blood on his clothes sent a wave of terror through Lawrence.

  “Y-you..”

  But luck was on Lawrence’s side. The man was shorter and the stairs were tall, giving Lawrence the high ground. He belted the man in the face, slamming his head against the wall and making him slump down on the stairs.

  Lawrence never even noticed the silvered dagger he was clutching in his hand. He didn’t even stop to think as he pushed open the iron doors and flew into the room. When he saw what was happening he shouted with the full might of his entire body.

  “Please stop!”

  Only one person didn’t flinch in shock; Keeman turned around first to face him. Eve’s guard then turned his head as well, with his thick hands still wrapped around her throat. A vacant expression was on Eve’s face. Her arms were bound behind her back and her legs were tied; clearly they didn’t want her to struggle. If they had to slit her throat they’d be the ones who’d have to clean it up.

  “Stop! You don’t have to do this!!”

  The guard loosened his grip on Eve and turned to Keeman. She wasn’t dead yet. Just as Lawrence made that analysis Keeman sprang up to him, his hair a mess and his face cold and emotionless.

  “Who put you up this?! Who bought you off!? Speak, merchant!!”

  Keeman had finally lost his composure, and even chewed the nails of the hand that now grabbed Lawrence’s collar. Lawrence could finally get through to him. He bent down slightly to make Keeman stumble, then grabbed Keeman’s waist and flipped him onto his back. Keeman saw the floor and ceiling switch places.

  “Gah!!”

  Keeman squealed like a squashed frog, and struggled violently under Lawrence.

  “Release Eve! Immediately!”

  Lawrence sat on Keeman, holding a knife to his throat. The guard had no quarrel with Eve, but he was likely an experienced killer. Lawrence had no choice but wait for him to make a decision. Having watched Keeman lose his composure, the guard seemed to feel the jig was up. He unhanded Eve and raised his arms.

  “Is she still breathing?”

  Lawrence’s question was answered promptly.

  “She should just be unconscious.”

  It wasn’t difficult for an accomplished killer to strangle someone and then finish the job once they lost consciousness. It all came down to how long someone could stay conscious if they were being strangled.

  “Mer.. chant..”

  Keeman could barely speak. Perhaps he was finally calming down, or perhaps he just had the wind knocked out of him, but he spoke with pain while glaring at Lawrence with one eye.

  “I’ve got some great news for you, assuming Eve’s still alive.”

  “What do you mean?”

  The guard lightly slapped Eve’s cheek and she groaned in response. She was alive. Lawrence was amazed that he could be this relieved that someone who tried to kill him was still alive. Keeman’s face was twisted in pain. He probably knew Reynolds was coming to the church, and that it was only a matter of time before Eve was discovered and taken to him.

  “Reynolds managed to prepare enough money on his own.”

  “Impossible!”

  Keeman nearly rose to his feet despite having a knife at his throat. He was that surprised. But it was beyond doubt that Reynolds had prepared the money on his own. There was no other way.

  “I’m a merchant, but it’ll be too hard for me to profit off this on my own. If Reynolds wins then I lose. That’s our relationship;.I can’t let him win or I’ll lose my own profit.”

  Keeman was stunned. He obviously didn’t know what Lawrence was talking about, so Lawrence turned away from him and looked at Eve.

  “What.. have you.. figured out?”

  Eve spoke hoarsely as she sat up with the guard’s help. Despite having just escaped hell, that was her first question.

  “I came to this city looking for information about the wolf-god’s bones..”

  Lawrence didn’t beat around the bush. He revealed everything he knew right there and then. Eve and Kee
man were more than capable of telling whether he was lying or not. Ultimately-

  “Mr. Lawrence, please get off of me.”

  Keeman stared at the ceiling and spoke calmly as Eve gently smiled. Lawrence obeyed. After all, Keeman and Eve were merchants of higher standing.

  “Can you do it?”

  Lawrence put away his knife as he asked. Keeman coughed and sat up, tidying his hair and clothes.

  “I must. Although..”

  He paused and looked at the person he almost killed, then spoke without emotion.

  “..that’s assuming she doesn’t betray us.”

  “She still has a chance to earn money.”

  Eve made a fist, and intentionally caressed her neck with it.

  “God seemed to look like Arold.. I’ll have to confirm that next time.”

  “At least we’ll earn enough to afford the trip to heaven.”

  Once they were spurred into action, they worked swiftly. Lawrence had confidence in them, having experienced first-hand how fearsomely they wielded their power. Eve now looked like one of those people the Church had “reborn”; she spoke with sincerity.

  “Ugh. Merchants.. we’re all insane and sinful.”

  * * *

  The procession that headed to the church looked quite odd. Reynolds was at the front, with retainers carrying boxes of gold coins behind him. He was like a bride rushing down a long alley with her dowries in tow. The coins carried into the church shone brightly, as if to defy the glory of the Lord.

  Judging by their size, each box likely contained a hundred coins, and there were fifteen of them. As if to show off, those boxes were placed right in front of the altar containing the Narwhale. Reynolds proudly stood tall at the priest’s pulpit, representing the southerners of faith.

  It wasn’t uncommon for big-shot merchants to be involved in deals worth thousands of coins, but it was uncommon for them to be paying in cash. Merchants had to form contracts, since cash was as rare and valuable as jewels.

  Many people would be involved in trades when this much hard currency was involved, and someone was sure to notice when such large numbers of coins were being collected. Of course, for large payments made in coins, the transaction also had to be properly recorded by money-changers. Therefore, it wasn’t strange to see others to be sitting and praying in the dim candlelight.

  Reynold’s sudden attack was flawless.

  “As you can see, I’ve brought the coins you requested to the house of the holy Lord! Now fulfill your end of the contract!”

  His belly, and the loose skin on his face, were quite prominent. In poor company those features would only make him seem destitute, but here and now they were dignified symbols. His melodic voice rang out proudly and strongly, like an opera singer giving the performance of their life.

  “I, the second owner of D’Jean Company, hereby proclaim that this trade shall be recorded in the name of that company!”

  The sound of splashing was then heard; the Narwhale had stirred, perhaps in response to Reynold’s voice or at the tension looming in the air. After that the church became silent as a dead lake. Lawrence turned away from that scene, and walked back down the corridor.

  As Reynolds had been leading his team to the church, a man claiming to be sent by Jeeda had visited Keeman but been immediately dismissed. Keeman wasn’t afraid. If his plan failed he would be held responsible, but he did not want Jeeda to play any part in its success.

  None of that worried Lawrence, because Keeman and Eve were preparing a sharp weapon to stab into Reynolds. When faced with their combined rage, surely no merchant would emerge unscathed. Lawrence felt sorry for Reynolds as he recalled the image of him proudly strutting on the pulpit.

  * * *

  “That’s everything I’ve managed to figure out.”

  “After tariffs, shipping, and hush-money, it should be about this much. I’ve seen Diva’s shop. They’d be able to pull this off.”

  Keeman excelled at deciphering words and playing with numbers. Eve knew everything about the area along the Roam river. Together, it was trivial for them to figure out the dealings of one company. It was a scary thing for a horse-and-wagon merchant to witness.

  “Mr. Lawrence, how were things at the altar?”

  “As expected. Reynolds is pressuring the southerners. Naturally, they can’t immediately respond. That should buy us enough time.”

  Lawrence wasn’t participating in their deliberations. He was merely reporting his observations. That made him feel strangely happy.

  “Then, shall we go for it?”

  As soon as Keeman asked, Eve nodded. Of course, Lawrence followed suit. Their plans for sole ownership of the Narwhale were no longer feasible, but they could still make a profit. Simply put, Reynolds had taken advantage of Eve and Keeman as they argued over how to split their profits. Clearly that was what he had been waiting for.

  “Here, this is your final job.”

  Eve didn’t even wait for the ink to dry before she rolled up the letter she handed to Lawrence. Her mocking tone brought an apologetic smile to Keeman’s face. Lawrence had a hunch as to why she wasn’t smiling as well, but he took the letter anyway; he didn’t expect her to confirm his hunch.

  “I had hoped to meet you on the river.”

  “..all the better that I had bid you farewell under the sun, after being cheated by you as a nemesis.”

  Eve squinted but didn’t reply. Keeman seemed to have grasped how his original plan would have played out, if their friendly banter was any indication. He smiled bitterly and hung his head in relief.

  “Then please wait here, good sir and madam.”

  With those words, Lawrence parted. Keeman’s messenger glared at Lawrence with hatred from his post beside the door. Apparently, the dry blood on his clothes was his own; Eve had kicked him in the nose as he tied her up. Lawrence unconsciously flashed him a business smile. Their differences just couldn’t be resolved, he thought, as he made his way down the corridor.

  Several people were gathered around the candles discussing something. Were they still trying to scheme their way out of this? Or were they already discussing where to flee to? Well, no matter. Lawrence now held the letter that would ruin the “celebration” taking place at the altar. What they were discussing was irrelevant, it didn’t shake his confidence.

  He was the main character in this play right now. Because that was what he was thinking, his expression must have seemed quite strange as he walked up to the door guards. He informed them of the situation, then walked up to the altar. A strange atmosphere filled the room, and only Reynolds was wearing a brave smile.

  “Mr. Reynolds.”

  Having finally made his way to the altar, Lawrence murmured quietly to Reynolds. They weren’t strangers, and Reynolds even greeted him with the same look of surprise one might show an old friend.

  “What brings you here? What’s the matter?”

  He put an excellent act. Indeed, he was a force to be reckoned with.

  “Oh, well, a lady asked me to deliver this letter to you.”

  Reynolds clearly understood that Lawrence was talking about Eve.

  “Oh.. oh.”

  For a split-second all of his repugnant greed flashed across his face; his expression played marvelously against the candlelight. He was probably still hoping to ally with Eve for capital, and assumed this would spare him some effort.

  “It seems to be a trade request.”

  Reynolds grinned happily as Lawrence handed him the letter. It seemed he would be able to manipulate Eve as he’d hoped. Reynolds spread the letter out excitedly, like a boy opening a letter from his girlfriend. Lawrence praised himself inwardly for not laughing out loud, then read the letter to him.

  “Given that Mr. Reynolds wishes a large business contract, we would first like to confirm his account statements, which will be conducted by a representative of my company with good eyes.”

  “Ah.. hmm..”

  “Regarding copper coins, we
are certain we have sufficient evidence to show that you received fifty-eight crates for Diva Company, yet sent sixty to Winfield Kingdom. At first we assumed you were simply evading customs tariffs.”

  Sweat poured down Reynold’s face as Lawrence murmured the letter’s contents.

  “But in reality, you weren’t avoiding tariffs to earn a little money on the side. You were working with Diva to transfer large amounts of capital downstream.”

  If the crates were packed differently, the number of coins in each could differ. This would allow them to secretly transfer the money.

  “You received payment for sixty crates of coins from Winfield, and paid Diva for fifty-eight. When viewed as separate transactions, your accounts seem balanced. But whether the number of coins in the crates - or the payment money - add up.. well, we can’t tell that from just your ledger.”

  Reynold’s face was ghostly pale. His eyes had been flitting about randomly, and finally stopped to look at Lawrence.

  “But if we compare the imports and exports, we see that two crates worth of payment remain at D’Jean Company each time. Furthermore, this same technique could be applied to other business transactions.”

  That’s what Lawrence had said when he heard Cole’s solution to the coin riddle. Ascertaining whether Reynolds had used this method was tricky, as there were many goods he could have skimmed in this way.. just like how there were many people in the world believing themselves to be main characters.

  “Copper ore, lead, tin, and brass; even the products made of them.. as long as they’re regulated and have a round shape. The mines in the Roef region are rich with many different metals, correct?”

  “No, however..”

  “Will you suggest that this is simply a transfer of capital? If so, that’s incorrect. It isn’t. Do you want our company to send people to Diva’s? When we noticed your illegal transactions, we first suspected you were only scheming to save on tariffs. But taxes are vital; imagine how bad it would be if Diva wasn’t willing to pay?”