Spice and Wolf, Vol. 6

  His mouth was filled with vulgarity of the Church’s actions.

  “That’s right. Suppose they find a bone they know is real, then crush it under their foot? We can’t simply devour the fools until we’re bones ourselves. We’ll have to content ourselves with being subjugated. There will be no miracles. And what will the people who see us think? They’ll think this—”

  Soon the trailing boats caught up with the big ship, and several more boatmen climbed aboard and tossed ropes out.

  Lawrence felt he was witnessing the indescribable solidarity of men who worked together.

  He longed to be among their sudden celebration.

  “—They’ll think, ‘Oh, look at this thing we so used to fear—’tis not such a great thing, after all.’”

  It would be a more effective demonstration of the greatness of the Church’s god than ten thousand words of sermon.

  Lawrence found himself impressed at the calculation of this—only the Church, having fought the pagans for centuries, would consider such a thing.

  But that bone might well have belonged to someone Holo knew—in the worst case, even a relative.

  And this was Holo, who found herself conflicted by the fur trade.

  But there was a difference between trading in fur and symbolically crushing this bone.

  Her eyes quivered not because she wanted to weep, but rather out of rage.

  “So, what think you?” she asked.

  There amid the sounds of drums and flutes, Ragusa and his comrades tied the boats together with practiced motions, setting about the task of mooring them once again.

  Each man was skilled enough that no conscious thought was required and performed his task with logical ease.

  The Church was just as practiced in the manipulation of faith.

  They would use whatever tools they had to spread it.

  “I think—I think it’s awful…,” said Lawrence

  “Fool,” said Holo, stepping on his foot.

  The pain he felt told him just how angry Holo was.

  “I’m not asking you of the morality of this. You’re just like the Ch—”

  Holo stopped herself short, but before she could apologize, Lawrence stepped on her foot, his face serious and inclined just so.

  “That’s payback,” his expression said.

  Holo bit her lip before continuing, partially to calm herself and partially out of frustration at her own verbal misstep. “…What I mean is, what do you think of the story that they’re after the bone? Do you think it is true?”

  “Half and half.”

  Holo looked at him, pained perhaps at the shortness of his answer.

  She might have been regretting making him angry for no good reason.

  “I mean, my immediate guess is half and half. Stories like this are common as the way Col was deceived during his studies.” Lawrence motioned with his chin at Col.

  Col, along with the rest of the onlookers, was cheering Ragusa and the other boatmen.

  His innocent figure looked not dissimilar to Holo’s, as he was still wearing her robe.

  “Well, it’s hardly half and half, then, is it?” said Holo.

  “Yes, but I know that beings like you exist. That eliminates the possibility of the most common idle gossip. So, half and half. That it’s a rumor at all is because there’s a trading firm involved. Whether it’s really in Rupi, we don’t know. That the Church came to Rupi is only true so long as Col isn’t lying.”

  Ragusa and the other boatmen’s labors seemed to have concluded.

  They all piled aboard Ragusa’s boat with a few energetic ones diving into the water and swimming ashore.

  The remaining wood was lavishly thrown on the dwindling fire and wine toward the returned heroes.

  “What say you to this—?”

  “Mm?”

  Holo’s hand entwined with Lawrence’s.

  She seemed to think that putting on a show of teasing him was necessary when she had a favor to ask.

  “Let us continue our easy travels, and when we find Yoitsu, say our good-byes. What think you?”

  Lawrence had to laugh at how easily she broached the subject.

  Holo dug her fingernails angrily into his hand.

  This was going just a bit too far.

  When she was so frank about it, he couldn’t very well accuse her of not being honest.

  Lawrence took a deep breath, then exhaled. “Don’t ask me a thing like that. What did I say when I came to pick you up?”

  Holo looked away and did not answer.

  Unbelievably, she seemed shy.

  “There is the salvation that it may all turn out to be a mere rumor. If it’s captured your interest, I don’t mind.”

  “And what if there is no such salvation?” She was not called a wisewolf for nothing.

  Words were her playthings.

  Lawrence lightened his tone still further. “If it’s true, we won’t come away unscathed.”

  “Because of my anger?”

  Lawrence closed his eyes.

  The moment he opened them, he saw the excited Col looking back at them. The boy seemed to notice their strangely subdued state.

  He hastily looked ahead, as though having seen something he knew he shouldn’t have.

  “Such items are unbelievably highly priced as a rule. The Church often brings its authority to bear in such matters, as well.”

  He looked at Holo next to him.

  Lawrence knew that Col was looking at them over his shoulder.

  But he didn’t particularly care.

  “Despite your morals, it’s a valuable item that affects the Church’s credibility. If we get involved, we won’t come away from it unhurt.”

  Holo smiled, bringing her free hand up to chest level and waving.

  Lawrence saw Col hastily look away.

  Holo slowly lowered her hand.

  “To come out and just say it, I’m going digging for bones. I won’t force you to come along.”

  Now she was being unfair.

  Lawrence brought his free hand up and smacked Holo’s head lightly. “Unlike you, I’d prefer our book to be a long one.”

  “…In truth?”

  While the idea of the journey ending by growing old and passing in his sleep had a certain appeal, there was something that was quite painful for him.

  And it was all the more so when the encounters and travels had been so eventful.

  Why did people gather to celebrate and dance at the end of the year or at the harvest?

  Lawrence felt like he understood now.

  “Stories are better when they have an ending, are they not?”

  “Even if there’s danger?”

  Lawrence shook his head.

  He was no wild youth, after all.

  “Of course, I’d prefer to avoid danger if possible.”

  Holo grinned triumphantly. “I’m Holo the Wisewolf!”

  It was a foolish thing, he thought.

  If there really was a trading company searching for the bone and the Church was truly after it, then it was not something an individual merchant could hope to affect.

  And yet, Lawrence thought.

  His travels with Holo would not be some weakly strained paste that left the stomach empty and grumbling. They had to be like beef, thickly cut and smeared generously with spices.

  Holo smiled softly and walked ahead.

  She tapped the eavesdropping Col on his head, then walked with him toward Ragusa and the rest.

  Lawrence followed slowly after them.

  The moon hung there in the sky, and the pleasantly cold air stirred at the hearty laughing of the boatmen.

  The turning point of their journey was a lovely night, indeed.

  Lawrence took a deep breath.

  Though Holo might be angry to find out, he did not much care whether the tale was true.

  There was something more important than that.

  “…”

  For having found a reason t
o continue forward, he wanted to thank the moon.

  EPILOGUE

  Early morning.

  Lawrence awoke when the light touched his cheek, the moment the sun showed its face above the horizon.

  At least, that’s what it felt like, but when he opened his eyes, he realized that what was actually touching his face was Holo’s breathing as she slept.

  The sleeping Holo, curled up in the blanket, would occasionally pop her head out from under it, perhaps coming up for breath.

  When Lawrence looked at her, her cheek was a bit damp, proof that she had emerged from the blanket only a moment ago.

  It was like uncooked bread dough.

  Particularly in the way it would flare up at a moment’s notice.

  But was it his imagination that her sleeping face looked even more innocent than it normally did?

  She didn’t just look relaxed—her face conveyed a certain self-confidence, as though she wouldn’t possibly be having any bad dreams. Even her singed bangs seemed like a badge of honor, as though she were a brave knight that had fearlessly returned from a blazing castle.

  No—that was going a bit too far.

  Lawrence grinned at his folly, then yawned. His dry, cold skin complained loudly, and his eyes opened with a sensation like a membrane of ice cracking.

  Today would be another clear day.

  Eventually Holo’s face twitched, her eyes still closed, and she squirmed around underneath the blanket.

  After the ship had been stopped from being washed downriver, there was talk of having an all-night celebration, but the boatmen knew their jobs too well.

  Drinking all night long and then piloting boats downriver the next day was too great a danger.

  They indulged in just a bit of merrymaking before going to bed, without even time enough for their clothes to dry.

  Since there were so many furs that had been brought ashore, even with wet clothes there were no worries of being warm enough to sleep soundly.

  A few of the biggest and strongest men had stripped naked and surrounded themselves with furs in order to keep warm most efficiently; their sleeping forms were a sight to behold. Holo’s words (“I don’t quite know what to make of that sight”) were most apt.

  Those same men were not yet awake, and Lawrence realized that at the moment, he was the only one up.

  No one would wake up because of the cold, and it wasn’t as though they had napped the previous day on the river.

  This sensation had lasted but a few days, but it made Lawrence feel very nostalgic.

  The days when he’d done business all day long, holding each spare moment precious.

  It felt the same as those days.

  When the breaking dawn meant a new opportunity for profit, if life was a gamble, then dawn was another card.

  Another card. Another. And another.

  Even if there was no progress, that was fun, too.

  It felt the same as those days.

  Had he woken feeling this way before, since the reality of the end of his travels with Holo had begun to sink in? Had he not been afraid of dawn’s break?

  Though he knew well that with a journey came parting, that didn’t make it any easier. He doubted even Holo the Wisewolf could restrain that feeling.

  So could he, a mere human, hope to?

  And then, there came this first pleasant waking in some time. But he knew the reason.

  In Lenos, they had declared their intention to end their travels with a smile.

  Last night they had decided how they would reach that goal.

  They would continue this carefree travel, and then at Yoitsu, it would be “fare thee well.” “What think you?” Holo had said.

  For the merchant who dedicated his days to profit and the ferocious wolf, “carefree travel” was an impossibility.

  Which made him as excited as a child.

  Even though he had no idea if the story was true. And if it was true, the probability that it would lead to a painful outcome for Holo was very high.

  And yet Lawrence did not think it was imprudent.

  After all—

  “Mmchoo—”

  Lawrence heard a sneeze from under the blanket.

  When conducting negotiations in a cramped inn, one had to be careful that the people sleeping nearby were truly sleeping and not feigning sleep in order to eavesdrop.

  Sneezes and coughs and the sounds of swallowing—all were proof that someone was awake.

  Lawrence peeled the blanket back to see Holo rubbing her nose.

  She soon noticed him and turned her gaze toward him. Her eyes were not drowsy the way they typically were.

  “Mmph…’Tis the first pleasant awakening in some time.”

  After all—

  Lawrence thought Holo felt the same way he did.

  “So you’re really going, eh?”

  The sun was now fully risen, and the area buzzed with activity as the boatmen readied for departure.

  Ragusa left his own boat in the care of a fellow boatman and strode about cockily, arms folded, watching the proceedings.

  The boatmen congratulated each other on their heroic deeds in saving the ship the night before, as was apparently their custom.

  But even Ragusa’s heroic manner, as though he were the true hero of the night, fell apart when Lawrence informed him of their intention to end their downriver journey here and return to Lenos.

  “I-I know we were delayed a night here, but it’ll be an express trip the rest of the way! We’ll make up the delay in no time!” he said insistently.

  But Lawrence only answered with reason. “No, Kerube was a bit too far out of our way to begin with. Having had a night to think it over, we’ve decided to head back.”

  “Urgh…right, then. It’s a mark on my reputation as a boatman, but…I suppose there’s nothing for it.”

  Ragusa wouldn’t have looked this upset even if he’d lost his coin purse—so Lawrence started to feel bad for lying to him.

  The truth was, Lawrence and company were not returning to Lenos at all, but were planning to get to Kerube one step ahead of the rest.

  The reason Lawrence went to the trouble of lying to get off the boat was that their method of arriving there was not something he could explain to just anyone.

  “I imagine that we can make it back within a day—and of course, my first voyage in quite some time was excellent.”

  Ragusa smiled ruefully at the obvious idle chatter in the midst of a business negotiation, then sighed.

  His acceptance was very boatman-like.

  “Ah, well. For every meeting, there is a parting. I’m a boatman that connects towns. No doubt I’ll have a chance to carry the same travelers again,” said Ragusa, offering his hand.

  Lawrence had shaken hands with the man when he’d boarded and now shook hands to leave.

  Voyages like this put them quite literally in the same boat.

  And the man responsible for Lawrence’s life was nearly a friend.

  “Indeed. I am a traveling merchant, after all. I’m sure I’ll come this way again,” Lawrence said, taking the man’s thick hand in his.

  “Right then. Tote Col—mind you well the things I’ve taught you.”

  “Wha—? Oh! Y-yes sir!” said Col hastily; he had been standing next to Lawrence, nodding off.

  Previously Col had been set to work in Ragusa’s boat, standing watch in case another vessel was swept away.

  Evidently he’d been angling for some money.

  Seeing this, Lawrence couldn’t help but soften his expression. Ragusa had secretly given Col’s wages—and they were generous wages—to Lawrence, with instructions to give them to Col once they’d reached Kerube. Col wouldn’t worry about food for a week.

  “Incidentally, Mr. Ragusa.”

  “Mm?”

  “No stealing a march on me now,” warned Lawrence, and Ragusa laughed hugely.

  There was no doubt Ragusa would have tried to tempt the lad into his service by the tim
e they got to Kerube.

  Col had his own goals.

  But if Ragusa twisted his arm enough, Col might find himself nodding his agreement. It might not have been any of his business, but Lawrence wanted to help the boy accomplish his own goals.

  Thus, his words to Ragusa.

  The redoubtable boatman heaved an amused sigh. “Fine then. I promise. I’m a boatman—I won’t tell a lie.”

  Each traveler had his or her own reasons for their journey.

  Ragusa surely understood that better than anyone.

  The men held each other’s gazes and chuckled.

  Lawrence could understand the feeling of having let the big fish that was Col get away, though it was yet too soon for Lawrence to be considering taking the boy as his own apprentice.

  “Still—,” said Ragusa, grabbing Lawrence’s shoulder suddenly and pulling him close. “You won’t go quarreling with your companion over anything quite that foolish again, will you now?”

  He meant Holo.

  Lawrence glanced over at her, moving only his eyes. She grinned at him from underneath her hood.

  As he brought his gaze back around, he glimpsed Col giving him a sympathetic smile, which was even worse.

  “I know, I know. I won’t.”

  “Mark my words—you can’t buy love with gold. Your merchant’s common sense won’t work there. Don’t forget that!”

  It was a teeth-grindingly tiresome thing to hear.

  But also true.

  “I’ll carve it on my heart,” said Lawrence, and only then did Ragusa release him, as if to say, “Well, that’s all right then.”

  Ragusa’s face was now bright and cheerful as he refolded his arms, as though his sadness from a moment ago had been a lie.

  There with his chest thrust out, he was every inch a boatman.

  Lawrence let himself wonder for a moment if in ten or fifteen years he, too, would have this sort of presence.

  But piling any more words up now would have made this act of their travels a bit dull.

  He took Holo’s hand, at which she nodded, her expression composed.

  “Well then, we’ll be off,” said Lawrence.

  “Uh, wait—!”

  At Col’s call, the pair looked back.

  For just a moment, Lawrence considered that if Col were to ask to become his apprentice right there, he would be genuinely conflicted.

  Col stammered there for a moment, as though unsure why he had called out. But then he said simply, “Thank you for everything!”