Just as Lawrence was wondering what would happen next, the black-clad people all pointed in unison toward the same direction.
They were pointing in the direction southwest of the intersection, and all the people directed their gazes toward that direction.
Lawrence looked to the southwest, and discovered that since some unknown time, several handcarts loaded with large barrels were already parked there. After laughing in a much exaggerated manner, the people surrounding the handcarts immediately pushed them forth into the intersection.
The black-clad people began to play their instruments, the quaintly-dressed people and those pulling along the animal puppets began to sing in unison, and those responsible for opening the barrels began scooping up the liquid within with ladles and sprinkling it in every direction.
The sprinkling action seemed to function as a signal. The crowds of spectators watching from a distance entered the intersection as well and each person began dancing at will.
The scope occupied by the gathering dancers continued to increase in magnitude. A few of the quaintly- dressed people ran out of the intersection and moved along the street, dancing all the while.
The passers-by on the street were influenced by these people, and one by one began dancing as well. In the blink of an eye, the entire street had transformed into a large-scale dance floor. At the center of the intersection, the people who had been part of the processions hung to one another's shoulders and began a roundel (note: a.k.a. circle dance or round dance). The festival, once it reached such a point, could in no way be stopped. Today everyone was certain to sing, dance, and revel all the way till daylight.
Judging from the atmosphere, Lawrence could tell that the signal for the commencement of the festival, perhaps more accurately described as a commotion, was at an end.
Horo withdrew her body, which had been almost completely outside the window, and said immediately as she looked to Lawrence: "Let us go down and dance as well.”
Speaking of the number of times Lawrence had danced in his lifetime, it could easily be counted with five fingers. That was because Lawrence had always done his best to avoid participating in such festivals. After all, he felt that dancing alone would only add to his sadness.
Having thought to this point, Lawrence hesitated for a moment, but seeing Horo's outstretched hand, he changed his mind.
He would be surrounded by drunkards all around anyway, so not being able to dance well mattered little. Besides, Horo's small, outstretched hand was more valuable than a thousand gold pieces.
"Alright!”
Lawrence said decisively as he took Horo's hand.
Horo seemed to sense Lawrence's determination, and said with a smile: "You just have to be careful not to step on my feet.”
"….I'll try my best.”
And in that manner, the two exited the inn and ran towards the commotion, hand in hand.
Lawrence could not recall how many years it had been since he'd been so wild. He had also never danced, laughed, and drunk to such an extent as he did today.
Perhaps this was the first time he realized that even he could become intoxicated within the flow of a genuinely good time.
Because when the good times had passed, what surged up was always a greater sense of loneliness.
Yet at this very moment, as he supported Horo, who could not stand steadily due to having drunk too much in her revelry by the shoulder and made his way up the stairs of the inn, despite the fact that the heat in his chest had cooled down significantly, what remained was a portion of gladness that was just right. This made Lawrence feel that, as long as Horo was by his side, the cheerful atmosphere would continue to last.
Upon returning to the room, the clamor from the streets continued to flow in through the wooden window, which he had forgotten to close. The night had just begun, so the craftsmen or merchants who had not been able to join in the commotion at noon were certain to begin reveling wildly now.
Besides, the festival seemed to have entered a new phase. On the way back to the inn, Lawrence had taken a look back in the direction of the intersection and discovered that the people were shuttling back and forth hurriedly.
If Horo still had any strength left in her, she would undoubtedly make a fuss over watching. Unfortunately, there was her current state.
After letting Horo lie in bed and continuing the manservant's task from the previous day of putting Horo's clothes in order, he could not suppress a sigh.
However, this was not an unhappy sigh, but one that came out along with a smile upon seeing Horo lying defenselessly with her cheeks flushed.
Perhaps it would be a bit unfair to Amati to say so, but Lawrence no longer held any sense of fear over the contract he had signed.
Forget about fear, before he returned to the inn, he had forgotten altogether that he had even signed a contract in the first place.
When he arrived back at the inn, the innkeeper had mentioned that someone had left a message. It was mark, and the content of the message was, "Have already found out Amati's means of making money, come to the store quickly.”
Even upon hearing the words, "come to the store quickly," the first thought that emerged in his mind was, "I'll just go tomorrow." This was an idea that Lawrence would normally never have, and truly opened his eyes to the fact that the contract was very far down in his list of priorities.
Compared to Mark's message, what concerned him more was the letter he had received along with the message. The letter was sealed with wax, and "Deanna" was written in beautiful handwriting in the spot for the sender. The innkeeper had said that the letter was delivered by a man with a sturdy coffin-like build (note: here we go again with Mr. "Coffin" Bartose xD). That person was surely Bartose.
Lawrence had requested back then that Deanna notify him if she remembered anything else about Yoitsu, so it was possible that the letter's contents concerned it. Though the thought of opening the letter and taking a look flashed through his head, in the end he decided against it, feeling that if he were to sit down and read the letter, it would only make him even lazier about heading out to see Mark.
After slipping the letter he had taken out back in his coat, he closed the window through which the clamor continued to sound and prepared to leave the room.
As he reached out his hand to open the door, he suddenly detected someone's gaze on his back. Turning around, it was of course none other than a sleepy-faced Horo, who was just trying to open her eyes and look in his direction.
"I'll be going out for a bit," said Lawrence.
"…going out hiding a letter tinged with the scent of a female within your bosom?" Horo's displeasure seemed not to stem from a struggle with her sleepiness.
"She's quite a beauty. Does it bother you?" Lawrence teased. "….Foolish mule.”
"She's a chronicler. Do you know about this type of occupation? She's the one providing us with information on Yoitsu, and is very familiar with ancient legends and myths of the North. Though I haven't looked at the letter yet, I was able to gain a lot of useful information just by talking to her yesterday, and even heard a story related to you." Horo rubbed her eyes for a while like a cat washing its face, before sitting up slowly to speak: "…Story? About me?”
"Your legend remains in a town called Renose. 'Horuo of the wheaten tail,' that refers to you right?” “….I do not know. But, what did you mean by 'useful information?'“
Horo seemed to be fully awake now. After all, the subject was her home town.
"In the legend of Renose, there was mention of the direction from which you'd arrived.” “Is….”
Horo's eyes grew wide, and her body went stiff. Her emotion emerged a step later on her face. "Is it true?" she asked.
"Why would I lie to you? It's said that you had come from the forest east of Renose. To the southwest of Nyohhira, at the point where it meets the forest east of Renose is where Yoitsu is situated.”
Having heard this unexpected news, Horo pulled the covers cl
utched tightly in her hands closer toward herself, and lowered her head in silence. Her wolf ears quivered slightly and continually, as if every hair upon it was filled with the emotion of joy.
The Horo before Lawrence was like a young maiden who had lost her way, and who revealed an expression of immeasurable relief at finally finding a familiar path after passing endless years.
Slowly, Horo drew in a deep breath, and exhaled with great force.
The fact that Horo did not burst into tears on the spot was probably due to her pride as a sage wolf. "You didn't cry, how well-behaved.”
"…Foolish mule.”
The fact that Horo pouted her lips slightly was perhaps because she truly was on the verge of crying.
"To be honest, the scope was way too large just knowing that the location's to the southwest of Nyohhira. With this, the scope has narrowed down significantly. Even though I haven't read the letter yet, I'm sure it's just supplementing information. Judging by the situation, we may be able to find our destination sooner than imagined," said Lawrence.
After nodding her head, Horo directed her gaze away slightly, and looked in Lawrence's direction once again as if peeping at him while she hugged the covers.
Within her amber eyes tinged with a bit of red shone a light of anticipation mixed with agitation.
Only the tip of the restless-looking tail was swaying back and forth. Such an appearance made Horo seem like a weak and gentle maiden, making it hard for Lawrence not to give a strained smile.
However, if Lawrence were unable to understand what Horo was saying with her eyes, even if Horo were to sever his throat on the spot, he would have deserved it.
Lawrence cleared his throat once, and replied immediately: "We should only need about half a year to find it.”
Lawrence could clearly sense the blood renewing its flow within Horo's body, which had become as stiff as a stone sculpture.
"Mm," Horo said, nodding, her face full of delight.
"So, that's how things are. The sender of this letter is just like a dove bringing the gospel. You're the one who had it all wrongly distorted. Go take some time in self-reflection.”
Even though Horo pouted her lips in displeasure, Lawrence of course knew that she had done this on purpose.
"Then, I'll be heading over to Mark's for a bit," Lawrence continued. "Hiding a letter tinged with a female's scent in your bosom?”
Hearing the same thing over again from Horo, Lawrence couldn't suppress a laugh. What Horo meant was, "Leave the letter behind," Lawrence thought.
Despite not being able to read, she still wished for Lawrence to leave the letter behind, but such flustered behavior proved too embarrassing for Horo, so that she was unable to come out and say it directly.
Seeing the rare sight of Horo's completely unveiled state of mind, Lawrence handed her the letter, feeling very much amused.
"You said just now that the sender is a beauty, did you not?" said Horo. "She's a beautiful woman who gives off a mature charm.”
Horo raised a shrewd brow and narrowed her eyes at Lawrence as she received the letter. "You are a bit overly mature, becoming a bit too cunning," Lawrence continued.
Hearing this, Horo gave a tooth-revealing grin.
"Anyway, Mark seems to have discovered Amati's method of obtaining the thousand silver coins. I'm going to hear what he has to say.”
"Really? Do give it everything you have to come up with a counter plan, so that I am not bought from you." Given the amount of interaction he had had with Horo all this time, Lawrence naturally did not take Horo's words seriously.
He shrugged his shoulders and responded: "You can open the letter if you want to look at it. Although, you'll have to learn how to read first.”
Horo gave a puff of her nose and lied down in bed holding the letter, before waving her tail a few times as if to say, "Hurry up and go." The way she appeared was just like a dog that was carrying a bone back to its own territory.
Of course, Lawrence did not dare to utter such a thought. He simply smiled silently, opened the door and left the room.
As he closed the door, Lawrence glanced again at Horo, who waved her tail a few more times as if she had known all along that he would do so.
Seeing Horo's action, Lawrence could not help laughing lightly. He closed the door slowly, fearing that making too much noise would disturb Horo.
"Seriously, for someone who's asking for another's help, you sure seem pretty relaxed, Lawrence.” “Sorry.”
Lawrence was originally pondering whether he should head straight to Mark's home, but he decided that perhaps Mark was still at the marketplace and thus chose to look for him at his vending stand first, and it all turned out just as he had expected.
Within the stands scattered throughout the marketplace could be seen people drinking and reveling beneath the moonlight. Among the night watchmen responsible for watching over the merchandise, quite a few had also succumbed to temptation and begun drinking.
"Although, I am pretty free during the festival period anyway, so it's no big deal," Mark continued. "Is that so?”
"Aye. No one would want to walk around carrying goods during the festival right? Especially with space- consuming goods like wheat, they're always sold before the festival begins, and purchased when the festival ends (note: Mark is speaking strictly from a merchant's point of view, so "purchased" refers to the merchant replenishing his stock once his previous stock has been sold out.). Though, the after-night festival doesn't count.”
Lawrence had heard that the after-night festival was held after the two-day main festival was over. This celebration, which lasted even longer than the entire period of the town-wide fair, was really no more than a big feast. However, Lawrence could understand the townspeople's state of mind in being unable to resist using the festival as an excuse to revel madly and drink to their hearts' content.
"Besides, thanks to gathering information for you, I've actually already made a bit of profit, so I won't ask you for anything in return this time.”
The smiling Mark carried a merchant's expression as he spoke.
From the looks of it, Amati's method of making money was a business that allowed the possibility of free-riding.
"You're free-riding off of Amati huh. So, what method is he using?" asked Lawrence.
"Oh, speaking of the method he's using, it really is quite ingenious. But, this really isn't because he's thought up some great way of making money. What I mean is, this is a business anyone can easily use to net a huge amount of profit.”
"To a merchant, this certainly is an alluring topic,”
Lawrence said as he sat down in a seat consisting of a sawed-short log placed nearby. Mark caught the meaning in Lawrence's utterance, and smiled maliciously.
"I heard that the knight Hashim can really dance. However, if the situation is left as it is, the overlyindulgent knight may have to accept the thousand silver coins, and have his beautiful princess taken away by his opponent," he said.
"Even if you bet your entire fortune on Amati, it won't make any difference to me.”
In response to Lawrence's counterattack, Mark did not raise a shield in defense, but instead continued to go on a long-sword offense: "Speaking of that Phillip the Third, I heard he's been saying many malicious things about you.” “Huh?”
"He said you're allowing the poor girl to shoulder debt so that you can take her wherever you please; also, you've only been letting the girl eat cold and bitter black wheat porridge, and have been subjecting her to harsh treatment during the course of your journey, things like that,”
Mark said cheerfully as if telling a joke. Lawrence, hearing this, could only respond with a strained smile. Lawrence of course understood that Amati was spreading ill rumors about him as a means of justifying the legitimacy of his own behavior. Yet to Lawrence, compared to the pain of a damaged reputation, the heavy feeling, as if a mosquito were flying around his face, was even more the cause of an involuntary twitching in his face.
Come to think of it, putting aside what a sword-wielding soldier might be able to do, what could a mere traveling merchant possibly do to put a girl in his debt and then force her to travel with him? Within a supported town (note: a town backed by certain powerful figures), a written acknowledgement for a debt would perhaps have some effect, but as soon as one reached the open country, it would be completely useless.
Besides, anyone used to traveling would not consider eating terrible-tasting porridge as regular meals during the course of a journey such a big deal. Perhaps it would be better to say that, to a merchant, who always has making money as his number one priority, even going without regular meals isn't all that surprising.
Surely no one would really take Amati's words as slanders against Lawrence. Yet, that wasn't really where the problem was. The point was that Amati was spreading everywhere the idea that he and Lawrence stood upon the same battlefield, fighting over one woman.
Although this would not have a direct impact on Lawrence's business, to an independent merchant, this really wasn't something worth being happy about.
The fact that Mark would reveal such an annoying, malicious smile was no doubt because he understood the prickly sense of anger that was boiling up within Lawrence. Lawrence let out a light sigh, waved his hand as if to put an end to the discussion and said: "So, what is this profiting business?”
"Oh yeah, I almost forgot. Because I'd heard that Bartose seemed to have already guessed it, I used that as a starting point for my investigation, and soon found what I was looking for.”
That would mean it had something to do with Bartose's business, Lawrence thought. "The buying and selling of precious stones?" he asked.
"Very close, but no. It's something totally unrelated to precious stones.”
One by one, the products bought and sold by merchants conducting business in mining regions flashed through Lawrence's mind. And then, it suddenly struck him.