Spice and Wolf, Vol. 6

  “You don’t seem like you quite believe it,” said Lawrence.

  “Er, well…not really.”

  “In life, it’s better to assume that bad things will happen to you rather than good things. You can’t look at someone else’s success and assume that it will happen to you. There are a lot of people in the world, so it makes sense that one or two of them are going to be fortunate. But there’s only one of you. Assuming that good fortune will come to you is no different than pointing a finger at a random person and predicting the same for them. But do you think that prediction would come true?”

  As he repeated to another person the words his own master had spoken to him, Lawrence felt their weight.

  If only he had been able to put them into practice a bit more faithfully, his own travels with Holo might have gone somewhat more smoothly.

  “So keeping all that in mind, if we return to the documents you were tricked into buying…”

  Holo lazily watched their exchange.

  At first it seemed as though she was about to make fun of Lawrence’s slightly pompous lecturing, but eventually she seemed to simply be enjoying the conversation.

  The boat headed easily downriver, and though it was chilly, there was no wind.

  The mood was strangely stable, unlike when Lawrence had traveled alone, but also unlike his travels with just Holo. Whatever it was fit the situation perfectly; it was a queer and ancient sensation.

  As Lawrence taught, he wondered what the feeling was.

  Holo wasn’t beside him sniggering maliciously, but when he turned around, there she was behind him, a soft smile on her face.

  They were on a river in the middle of winter, so what was this warmth?

  Lawrence didn’t know. He didn’t know, but it made his body feel light.

  Conversation with Col became smooth, and as Col began to understand Lawrence’s thinking, Lawrence started to understand Col’s questions.

  Good fortune might not often come his way, but fortunate encounters seemed to be quite common.

  It was that kind of moment.

  “Ha-ha. Am I interrupting anything?” came Ragusa’s voice suddenly, and Lawrence felt as though he’d been woken from a dream.

  Col seemed similarly jolted, and as he regained his composure, his expression made him look as though he wasn’t quite sure of what he was doing.

  “Er, not at all…Is something the matter?”

  “Only that the next checkpoint will be the last for the day. I thought you might have something you need to buy, that’s all.”

  “Ah, I see.” Lawrence exchanged a look with Holo. She checked the contents of the bag that held their food provisions—even sharing bread with Col, they would have plenty.

  “’Twill last,” she said.

  “Apparently it will last,” said Lawrence to Ragusa.

  “Aye, and ’tis well if so. Still—” Ragusa stretched, then leaned on the pile of cargo, a broad smile on his face. “Seems a lie has become truth. He’s playing the apprentice quite well!”

  Ragusa was obviously referring to Col, who looked down in embarrassment.

  Unlike a certain someone whose chest puffed out at the slightest praise.

  “I’ve hired boys many times before, but they rarely stay even a year. And when it comes to working without being yelled at or whipped, why—this lad’s a miracle!” Ragusa smiled.

  “Doubtless,” Lawrence agreed.

  Wandering scholars were despised—they were shiftless, yes, but they also did no work and accomplished nothing to gain any sort of trust.

  Though he had been cornered into it, Col worked hard to earn his way and took Lawrence’s teachings to heart—more than enough to earn trust.

  Blinking his eyes rapidly at the unexpected praise, Col appeared not to understand that.

  Holo smiled, happiest of all.

  “So I’ve some odd jobs to take care of at the next checkpoint.”

  “Ah, yes—please let me help.”

  “Ha-ha-ha! Careful, you’ll be scolded by your teacher!”

  “Eh?” said Col, confused, at which Lawrence smiled helplessly and spoke.

  “He doesn’t want to be either a merchant or a boatman, this lad. Isn’t that right?”

  Col looked up with his pale blue eyes, returning Lawrence’s gaze, then Ragusa’s; then he stopped.

  It was clear he was thinking with all his might.

  “…Yes. Er, I-I want to study Church law.”

  “Well now, isn’t that a shame.”

  “So you see how it is,” said Lawrence.

  “I reckon I’ll give up, then, if nobody else is going to get him all to themselves. Suppose it’s always the gods that profit in the end, eh?” Ragusa sighed good-naturedly, then moved astern and picked up his pole.

  Reliable people were always in demand, no matter the industry.

  “Um…?”

  Lawrence chuckled. “He’s just saying that if you keep studying like this, you’ll wind up a scholar eventually.”

  “Ah…” Col nodded uncertainly, and as the boat drew near to the dock, Col hurried over to Ragusa when the man called for him.

  Lawrence was left to ruminate over Ragusa’s words.

  It did seem to be the gods who profited in the end.

  “You seem regretful,” said Holo.

  “Huh?” Lawrence said, then nodded. “Oh yes, I suppose I did feel a bit disappointed.”

  “Still, you’ll have other chances.”

  Lawrence looked back at Holo, a little surprised at her words. “So you find just helping me become a merchant of note unsatisfying?”

  “You’re not full-fledged until you have an apprentice.”

  So it was about the apprentice, then?

  It was true that Lawrence had told Holo that he felt as though his adventures might be over once he opened a shop.

  Holo had told him to get an apprentice.

  “It’s a bit early for that, though.”

  “Is it?”

  “It is. Maybe ten years from now. Or fifteen even.”

  A few years earlier, Lawrence would never have been able to think ten years hence, but he was reaching the age where he would now be looking that far ahead.

  In the past, he might well have thought he could be anything, but now those choices were no longer open to him.

  “Ten years from now, you say—mm, by then even you may be a bit more manly.”

  “…What are you talking about?”

  “Oh, shall I explain?” Judging by her smile, Holo was hiding something big.

  Deciding it was better to let sleeping gods lie, Lawrence gave up his counterattack.

  “Heh. Smart of you.”

  “Your praise flatters me, milady.”

  Holo smacked Lawrence’s shoulder, her cheeks deliberately puffed out.

  Lawrence smiled in reply, then reached out for the sheaf of papers he had bought from Col.

  Despite the interruption, the issue of the copper coins was enough to arouse his merchant’s curiosity.

  Though Lawrence wasn’t particularly thinking of profit—much less trying to expose the Jean Company’s smuggling—the notion that he would be able to solve the riddle simply through careful analysis of this sheaf of paper was exciting.

  “You surely are a stingy male.”

  “What?”

  “Look at the way your eyes light up at that paper. Is it so much more fun than keeping my company?”

  Lawrence didn’t know if he should laugh or not.

  He knew for a certainty, though, that if he pointed out that Holo was being jealous of a stack of papers, he’d be hit.

  “It’s only a difference of three chests. Why is that so interesting?” Holo asked.

  “Why…? I suppose because it’s fun to think about. But this time if I’m mistaken, we won’t get dragged into some kind of uprising. You needn’t worry on that count.”

  Lawrence flipped through the pages as he talked and soon came upon a sheet on which the
Jean Company’s name was written and then another.

  Perhaps this was what he was looking for.

  “…”

  He got the feeling Holo had said something and looked up.

  Holo had plopped down and was grabbing onto the blanket.

  Beneath her robe, her tail swished discontentedly.

  Her expression was one of frustration.

  “You’re very skilled at bargaining sometimes, you know,” she said.

  Occasionally even Holo was easy to understand.

  Was he being presumptuous, Lawrence wondered, in imagining that what Holo was thinking was, It’s all well and good for you to attend to Col, but when he’s gone, your attention should be only on me?

  “Well then, would you like to help?”

  “…I suppose I would not mind.”

  Lawrence was reminded of long ago, when Holo couldn’t bring herself to simply ask for an apple.

  Her face had been displeased then, even as her ears had flicked up happily.

  “This word, here. Jean Company. Find anything that mentions it. You can read the letters, right?”

  “Aye. Anything that mentions it, anything at all?”

  “Yes.”

  Col’s bundle of papers was actually quite sizable.

  Many of them were badly wrinkled, perhaps having been handled roughly or stuffed into a bag in the process of their theft.

  And as proof they had passed through many hands, many were badly smudged and worn out with finger marks.

  There were probably a hundred sheets in total; Lawrence handed a section to Holo, and they began to search for the Jean Company.

  Lawrence could tell at a glance what sort of document each sheet was, and once he knew the document type, he knew more or less where on the page to look for company names.

  By contrast, Holo had to scan each page from top to bottom or she risked missing the name—and the writing was often messy.

  It was obvious to Lawrence that she frequently gave him nervous glances.

  No doubt she found it frustrating being less capable than him at something.

  Lawrence pretended not to notice and slowed his pace.

  “Still, you—,” began Holo.

  “Hmm?”

  Even having slowed his pace, Lawrence was faster, so it was farfetched to think that Holo suspected him of self-sabotage after only a moment.

  In fact, rather than continuing to work as she spoke, Holo set the papers down and stared someplace far in the distance.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Holo shook her head in response to Lawrence’s question, looking down at her hands. “…It is nothing.”

  Yet even Holo, who was a brilliant liar, could not plausibly insist that it was, in fact, nothing.

  “You could be a little more subtle, you know.”

  Lawrence expected that would anger her a bit, but Holo seemed to be a cut above that.

  She smiled self-derisively, then took up the papers to put them in order. “I am just thinking about tiresome things, that is all.”

  Finally turning a page over with a flip, Holo slowly closed her eyes.

  “What kinds of things?”

  “Truly tiresome things…I was wondering what sort of town awaits us once we have made our way down the river.”

  At Holo’s words, Lawrence looked downriver.

  No sign of the sea was yet visible; there were only the flat plains and the gentle flow of the river.

  Of course, the port town of Kerube was not yet visible, either.

  But Lawrence got the feeling that Holo’s statement carried another meaning.

  More than anything, when Holo called something “tiresome,” it was not just that it was simply boring.

  “I’ve only passed through it by boat two or three times, so I haven’t gotten a proper look at it, if I’m honest.”

  “That is enough. What sort of town is it?”

  Since she had asked, there was no reason to hide it. Lawrence called up the memories of his past experiences. “The river meets the sea in a wide delta, and where townspeople do not live, it is lively indeed, with taverns and trading companies’ loading docks and money changers’ counters. Homes are located on the northern and southern edges of the delta. Collectively it’s known as Kerube, but the upper, middle, and lower sections do not get along well at all.”

  “Oh ho.” Holo looked down at the paper in her hands, though it was not clear whether she was reading the letters there or not.

  “I visited it from a large trading ship that connects distant nations. It had stopped in Kerube to take on supplies midway through the voyage. Since it was a large ship, it couldn’t navigate the shallow delta, so we boarded a smaller boat to make the trip.”

  Lawrence stopped there to check Holo’s reaction.

  If this was what she wanted to know, it would have been faster to simply let her see the place when they arrived—but Holo did not seem to think so.

  “And then what did you see once you went up the delta?” Holo was looking vaguely at the paper in her hand, but her focus seemed to be on a point far beyond it.

  Seeing her like that and explaining the sights of Kerube to her in this way, Lawrence felt like he was leading a blind person.

  But when he slowed his speech, Holo looked at him and wordlessly pressed him for more.

  Lawrence was concerned, but continued. “…Right. Going up the delta, the first thing that greets us is the wind- and tide-bleached wreckage of a ship that’s run aground. The hull is broken cleanly in two, and we pass through it like it’s a gate. Once on the other side, we’re surrounded by energy and noise, but not like in a town market. A town market sells goods one at a time, but here goods are bought and sold in amounts that would make your head spin—it’s a market for merchants. The goods piled high there will be taken to lands near and far. Let’s see…ah, yes. There are many shops dedicated to providing a brief moment of pleasure in the long and difficult voyages. Inside them, well…it would probably make your brow wrinkle to hear of it,” said Lawrence with a deliberate shrug, at which Holo guffawed.

  “From within the rows of two-story buildings come the constant sounds of laughter and lute music all day long.”

  Holo nodded, and without raising either her head or her gaze, she asked, “Where was the ship going?”

  “The ship?”

  “The one you were riding on.”

  “Ah, that ship was bound far south along the coast, arriving at a port town called Yordos, a place known for its skilled artisans. The ship was carrying mostly amber from the north, and the town was famous for its amber craft. It’s even farther south than Pazzio, where you and I wound up running around underground, or even Pasloe, where we met. The sea is very warm there and dark.”

  Lawrence had been younger and more carefree then; he had owned no wagon and had been rather careless with his life as he flitted from place to place.

  It didn’t enter the conversation, but there was no comparison between a long sea voyage spent in a dim room below decks and a short riverboat trip.

  On the voyage, he had held desperately onto the cow bladder that contained his drinking water, trying not to spill it as the boat rocked so violently that it had been impossible to even sit properly.

  And with that much rocking, a poor traveling merchant—who was hardly a sailor—would soon fall prey to seasickness.

  When there was nothing left in his stomach, he had vomited blood, and he had been thin and haggard by the time the boat arrived.

  It was bad enough that Lawrence could scarcely believe he’d made the journey three times.

  “Mm. Though I do not know this ‘amber’ of which you speak.”

  “Huh? You don’t?” asked Lawrence, and Holo shot him an irritated glance.

  He would have guessed that living the life of a forest god, it would be the kind of thing she would know—but then, she hadn’t known about pyrite, either.

  “It’s tree sap that’s hardened underground,
and it looks just like a jewel. It’s rather like…ah, yes. It looks a bit like your eyes actually.”

  Lawrence pointed at Holo’s face, whereupon she seemed to unconsciously try to look at her own eyes. He couldn’t help but laugh when she went cross-eyed.

  “You did that on purpose,” she said—but if that had truly been so, Holo would not have said it.

  Since Lawrence could tell that she was irritated at his remark, he answered, “Well, in any case, they’re like beautiful jewels.”

  Despite her irritation, Holo couldn’t help but burst into laughter at the obvious words. “Hmph! Not bad, for you. So after you got off that ship, where did you go next?”

  “Next? Next was…,” began Lawrence, when a question appeared in his mind.

  What could she be getting at by asking him this all of a sudden?

  “You can tell me that, or you can tell me where that vixen’s destination is.”

  Perhaps Holo thought Lawrence’s hesitation was due to the vagueness of his memory.

  But no—he soon realized that was not it.

  It was because she was afraid of even a moment of silence—even the amount of time it took him to wonder why she was asking all this.

  “Eve’s destination, eh? If she’s going to sell the fur to fur craftsmen, it’ll be still farther south than Yordos. Probably a town named Urva.”

  “How much do you think she’ll make?”

  “Hmm…Perhaps triple…though that might be tough. If she were to turn that much profit, she’d never speak to a traveling merchant like me again, I’d wager.”

  At Lawrence’s smile, Holo smacked him on the shoulder, her face displeased.

  But their eyes did not meet.

  It was as though if she looked him in the eye, she was afraid he would see her mind.

  “Ha-ha. But that’s no joke—if she turns a profit of one or two thousand gold pieces, she’ll be launched into the ranks of high-level merchants. Once you’ve got that kind of money, the done thing is to hire help, open a shop, buy a ship, and get involved in long-distance trading. Buy gold from desert nations and spices from scorching lands. Then bring back silk or glasswares, volumes of ancient writing that detail the history of bygone empires, exotic foods and animals, mountains of sea jewels like pearls or coral. A ship full of such things returning safely to port could bring a profit ten or twenty times what I’ll make in my life. Then you can open branch offices for your trading company and most likely get into banking transactions. Loaning huge sums to local nobility in exchange for various special privileges allows you to seize control of the local economy. Then you finally become the official merchant for the southern emperor. You handle the ordering of the king’s coronation crown, which could be worth two or three hundred thousand lumione. Once you’re a merchant of that magnitude, you can send any sort of good anywhere to any nation from your seat, and you’re received like a king anywhere you go. Your throne of gold coins is complete.”