Holo turned to Elsa with similar exaggeration. “Well, then, ours must be a nasty God indeed.”
Col’s smile twitched a little, but Elsa was no ordinary girl. She let Holo’s remarks pass by like a breeze and replied with a cool face and a quiet tone. “Those who believe so only reveal their own impoverished hearts.”
Lawrence swore he could hear the sound of Holo’s tail puffing out in irritation.
He smiled at the strong-willed pair. “So, might I perhaps discuss the situation with you?” he said, coming between them.
When Lawrence finished relaying Le Roi’s story and his own opinions on it, a rather oppressive silence descended on the room.
At its center was, of course, Holo.
“Accompanying him is at least feasible. But doing so will bring me to the limit of my time. You would have to go on to Yoitsu on your own.”
Holo, who was called the wisewolf, was at a loss for an answer.
If they aided Le Roi, it would remove one of the worst possibilities, and simply ascertaining the truth of the story would give her some measure of relief. But in exchange, it would become difficult for Lawrence to spare the time to travel north.
On the other hand, if they ignored the story and proceeded according to their original plan, there would be lingering worries, and it was all too clear what would happen if those worries became tragedy. On top of that, there would be the regret that would come with having had this opportunity to act and letting it pass.
No one knew the pain of being unable to turn back time better than Holo did. She did not look at Lawrence and simply stared at the floor, brow furrowed.
The question was simply whether or not they would go to Yoitsu together—but Lawrence had put so much into being able to fulfill his promise to Holo…
No doubt the reason she was not looking at Lawrence was that she feared that if she did, the answer would come out. The wisewolf prided herself on not being carried away by emotions, and so she could not possibly look at Lawrence.
And Lawrence said nothing, as he knew that this decision had to be Holo’s.
In any case, he could see her answer. Or believed he did.
Which is why, when Holo sighed and looked up at him, he was momentarily confused.
“We have no choice but to take the fruitful path,” she said with a tired smile, sounding almost relieved.
It was her wisewolf’s face. He had seen it so many times before.
After the surprise, Lawrence felt a small surge of anger. “You mean—” he began, but the question he was about to ask was cut off by a sharp look from her.
Holo’s expression immediately softened, though, as though to say she very much wished they could go to Yoitsu together.
“Your promise to me was that you would take me to Yoitsu. So long as you provide me true directions there, I consider that fulfillment of the promise. Whether or not you come with me is a matter of sentiment only.”
By contrast, the matter of Le Roi had practical implications.
Any proper adult, not just a wisewolf, knew better than to have their reason swayed by temporary emotions. It was right and proper, and moreover, the attitude Lawrence took in his daily business.
And yet the shock Lawrence received from Holo’s words was very much a matter of sentiment.
“But there was another, wasn’t there?”
“Another?” Lawrence replied.
Holo glanced at Col and Elsa briefly. “You know that,” she said, faintly amused. “I have a debt to you. Do you remember? You were terrible about it. You said you’d follow me to the ends of the earth to get it from me, you did. Such an avaricious merchant you are.”
Elsa and Col could not help but weigh the truth of Holo’s words, but they were clearly shocked to see Lawrence’s frustrated face.
He had long since forgotten that.
“Did you truly…!” said Elsa, anger and scorn on her face after she got over her surprise. Using debt to force another into bondage was a sin she would not forgive, no matter the circumstances. Especially not when it was someone close; her eyes made it clear she thought of Lawrence as a heartless miser.
“No, there were circumstances…!”
“Mm. Still, if the profit from this pays off that debt, then surely even the stubbornest man or god would forgive it, eh?” said Holo, earning her a disapproving look from Elsa.
But at the toothy, carefree smile Holo put on, Elsa appeared to have nothing more to say. She sighed in exasperation and muttered a prayer: “Oh, God, please forgive me my powerlessness.”
“So, then—at least ten days by wagon, you said? Well, with enough good food and wine, I think I can enjoy myself for that long,” said Holo airily, as she looked toward the window.
Lawrence could not help but swallow his words when he saw how she looked.
Did she really mean to say that at Yoitsu she would be able to part ways with him smiling, so long as she had food and wine? Lawrence wanted to ask but knew nothing would come of the answer.
The question of whether or not she would go to Yoitsu with Lawrence was a purely sentimental one. And Holo could always part ways with a smile—because she was well used to forcing those smiles.
“Come, now that it’s decided, you can accept this fellow’s proposition. If you miss your chance, ’twill be a sad state of affairs indeed. You’re always saying you’re a merchant—go make some easy profit, eh?”
Lawrence knew perfectly well she was forcing this cheer. But Holo seemed satisfied to see that he knew. Her sad smile said it all too clearly: “You needn’t worry about me so.”
It was simply not in Holo’s nature to act selfishly. Even when Lawrence pushed her to, even when he tried to incite her, she pulled away from the struggle over Col.
It was all he could do to nod. “You’re right. Might as well go out with a flourish, eh?”
It was a rather good line for an insensitive merchant, Lawrence felt. But Holo turned instantly irritated. “Must you always be so gloomy?”
“Huh?” Col smiled an apologetically nervous smile.
And a smile, too, was the only reply Lawrence could give the sighing Holo.
Lawrence put on his coat and looked down through the window onto the street below. It was still crowded with people, but at the church, evening prayers would soon begin.
As morning came early to the church, so did evening. Which meant that in the winter, when the sun set so early, “evening” was pushed back a bit. The marketplace would close with the bells that signaled the end of evening prayers, so the town merchants would still be running busily here and there.
Which meant there was no guarantee that Le Roi was waiting somewhere for Lawrence’s reply, and just as Holo said, if someone else took the opportunity out from under him, it would be rather pathetic.
Having decided to accept the offer, there was no time to waste.
“Huh? You’re not coming?” His preparations complete, Lawrence looked over his shoulder to see Holo still on the bed.
“I’m a wisewolf. What need have I to run around for such trivial affairs?”
As she sat there tending to her tail, it was true that she did not look much like someone concerned with staying busy.
Lawrence lacked the energy to say anything to that, so he looked instead to Col. But before his gaze had even landed on the boy, Holo spoke up. “You’ll stay and mind the room with me, won’t you, lad?”
Elsa had left the inn to attend evening prayers, so if Col were to leave, Holo would have been alone.
She hated being alone, of course, but more important than that was surely the chance to monopolize Col. She was no match for a head-on confrontation with Elsa, so, having realized that, the sneaky wisewolf was taking advantage of her opponent’s absence.
“Good point. Don’t open the door for strangers, don’t order any food, and if you go anywhere, be sure to tell the innkeeper. I can leave you to mind Holo, can’t I?” said Lawrence. He had to get his attack in while he could.
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Col smiled but was mindful of Holo, who in turn seemed completely unruffled. It wasn’t very charming of her, but this was not the first time she had failed to charm.
Lawrence left the room and descended the stairs.
He looked left and right along the crowded street and, after a moment’s thought, began walking in the direction of Philon’s shop. There was a good possibility Le Roi had headed off somewhere, but going through Philon’s shop would be the quickest way to contact him.
Even as it was starting to seem impossible that Lawrence would be able to go to Yoitsu, he still had to prepare for the possibility that he would be heading north.
Lawrence mused on how he hoped he would be able to learn more once he committed to the plan. He thought about this as he looked up at the church steeple, which was visible from everywhere in town. It was the heart of the place, and right about now it would be filled with the faithful—people like Elsa.
To tell which among the townspeople were devout and which were not, one needed only to look at who was doing business in the marketplace until it closed. The devout would not remain, instead hurrying to the church well before the end of business in the marketplace.
Occasionally, there were some who were faithful not to God but rather to the scent of wine, but what they had in common was a wish to live in peace. The only difference was whether they found salvation in prayer or drink.
When Lawrence arrived at Philon’s place, he came upon Philon and Le Roi chatting, each with a drink in their hand.
Le Roi’s reaction was quick. He was an experienced merchant, and immediately understood Lawrence’s facial expression.
“I accept your proposal.”
Since he normally adopted such a comically exaggerated manner, his quiet reaction in this moment carried all the more weight. He was a cunning merchant, indeed.
Le Roi took Lawrence’s hand as though he were too moved for words. “I thought that I had lost God’s favor a second time. I was about to give up.”
Still, not all of his pleasure was an act. Most of the merchants that crawled the earth had a shortage not of nerve nor knowledge nor luck—no, it was coin they lacked.
“Quite a surprise. My instincts led me wrong.” It was Philon who spoke these words, watching the two men shake hands. As he opened a great ledger and made note of something in it, he seemed almost like a notary. And given that he dealt with mercenaries, who held their trust even more closely than merchants, he was probably more reliable than any notary.
“To think, a man with a woman and child with him would ignore such danger.”
“I imagine this will be the last time,” said Lawrence.
Philon grinned sardonically at this and cocked his head slightly. “I’ve heard the same thing from the fighters that come through my shop.”
Lawrence smiled, a smile tinged with the childish hope that what he said was actually true.
“Still, I’m truly thankful. I tried to get Mr. Philon here to listen to me, but he’d have none of it.” Le Roi waved his hands, returning to his former exaggerated manner.
Philon was writing something in an elegant hand, and he made a displeased face that had no trace of a smile in it. “Don’t be stupid. I already trade with mercenaries. If someone saw me making a deal with the slavers at the Delink Company, what then? You wouldn’t have to be very devout to wonder what sort of evil business I was up to.”
Anyone who lived in a town and did business in one place had their actions watched by others. And unlike a traveling merchant, who could weather a failure and move to another town, any stain on their reputation would simply remain. That was why apothecaries did not visit taverns and why scale makers did not make friends with money changers. The former would be suspected of drugging the drinks, and the latter of tampering with the scales.
“We’ve nothing to fear on that count.” Le Roi put his thick arm around Lawrence’s shoulder.
And, in fact, that was surely one of the reasons why Le Roi had chosen Lawrence to approach. If either of them failed, in the worst case, they could simply turn tail and run. Also, the company they were seeking a loan from was openly involved in the slave trade and obviously did not care about its public reputation.
Philon sighed a resigned sigh, but there was a faint smile on his face—and perhaps a slight envy of the sort of freedom Lawrence and Le Roi enjoyed.
It was said that travelers endured uncertainty, but the town bound were stifled. Nothing ever went quite as one would wish, which was what kept people striving forward.
“Still, I’m truly grateful. I’m lucky you decided the way you did.”
“All I can be responsible for is mediating with the Delink Company. I have no idea whether they’ll agree.”
Le Roi nodded immediately. But the book dealer was neither ignorant nor naive. His response was quick. “They won’t agree—they’ll be made to agree.” Le Roi thrust his chest out, looking like some great pigeon. “I’m very confident in the collateral, after all.”
A little overwhelmed, Lawrence nodded. Le Roi exhaled the great breath he had drawn, then quieted his voice. “By the way, just between you and me, we may end up getting ahead of Mr. Philon.”
Philon’s eyes alone fixed upon Le Roi. A smile played about his lips.
“I had no idea. How novel.”
If Holo had seen the transparent exchange, she would have laughed. Col would have been confused. And Elsa would have made a displeased face.
Le Roi nodded and turned to face Lawrence. “Do you mind talking here?”
Lawrence had no reason to refuse. He nodded slowly.
As Philon attended to his own work, Lawrence and Le Roi began to make their plans.
“Near the capital of Ploania, Endima, there’s a town called Kieschen. The book is with a trading company there.”
Lawrence did not know the exact location of the town, but he had heard the name before. But Endima was easily a twenty-day journey by horse-drawn wagon; if Lawrence introduced Le Roi to the Delink Company, it was all but certain he would have to stay with the bookseller to watch him, since once the introduction was made, any suspicious movements would be on Lawrence’s head.
Which meant seeing this through would take a month or two months.
Even if everything went perfectly, Lawrence would have to head directly south afterward.
“My job as a bookseller is to use my contacts to know the trends among book collectors. Using those contacts, I’ve worked out the location of every single book written in the desert country language.”
“I’m surprised you’ve never been accused of heresy,” said Lawrence, half-surprised and half-restraining himself. For a moment, he glimpsed Le Roi’s true nature as the man smiled a dark smile.
“To catch a snake, use a serpent. The inspector telling you the wine’s been adulterated is the one drinking it down. That’s what I’m getting at.”
“I see.” Lawrence gestured for Le Roi to continue with an apologetic gesture.
“My intuition, at least based on what I was able to learn this past summer, is that it’s unlikely that the trading company has realized the true value of the book. The master of the company is a great lover of adventure tales, especially thick histories. A traveling entertainer I know told me as much in the postscript of a letter and said he acquired the book as part of a big lot of those adventure stories. If he hasn’t realized what it’s worth, it’s probably sitting in a long line of books waiting to be translated.”
This was not a simple assumption. It was a very likely possibility. Le Roi was not the careless, foolish man he appeared to be. He possessed an orderly and logical mind, like fine lines of writing in a thick tome. “In order to buy the book, we have to solve two problems. One is how to buy it. The other is how to get the money there.”
“As for the first, we’ll surely have to go to the town ourselves. It’s not as though we have a branch company or a trusted underling we can send on our behalf.”
Le Roi smil
ed a familiar smile at Lawrence’s words. The owners of large companies would not have to actually travel in order to make such a purchase. “As someone who makes the greater part of his living on his own feet, I quite agree.”
“As for the second problem, a money order seems appropriate.”
A money order—a merchant’s technique likely to make a hard-headed churchman knit his brows and cry witchcraft. It was a miraculous thing that lent money was moved from places far removed from one another without having to actually risk transporting it.
For example, suppose that Hugues’s company in Kerube had an agreement with Philon’s shop. In that case, Lawrence would bring coin to Hugues’s company in Kerube and receive a money order in return. He would then go upriver to Lenos and give the money order to Philon. Whereupon, Philon would pay the amount written on the certificate to Lawrence. In this way, Lawrence could move money from Kerube to Lenos without having to carry the heavy coin.
This was a money order.
“I quite agree. And then we needn’t worry about one another running off with the money on the way,” said Le Roi, a bit of self-mockery in his tone. It was true, though, that such security was another nice feature of money orders.
Money orders could only be written between companies with standing agreements and had no value in the hands of illiterate bandits. If either Le Roi or Lawrence wanted to betray the other and cash the order, a proviso could be added that would prevent such a situation.
“The problem is whether such a large money order can actually be cashed. We’ll be in a bind if we travel all the way out there, only to find we can’t turn it back into coin.”
That was indeed the problem. Money orders were a convenient tool, but they were imperfect.
If the company in Kieschen to whom the order was written refused to exchange the money order certificate for coin, Lawrence and Le Roi would have traveled all that way with nothing but a scrap of paper to show for it. What if Kieschen were experiencing a similar money supply problem to what Lenos was now facing? Even if the company wanted to honor the money order, they might well be unable to.