“Then Mr. Pisky has such an important job, huh.. but if that’s the case..”

  Why was Mr. Lawrence trying to hide the answer from Miss Holo? That question was boldly written in his eyes as he looked at Lawrence. It was an extremely embarrassing thing to admit that one had been so overly paranoid, but if Lawrence didn’t accept his punishment then he wouldn’t be able to earn Holo’s forgiveness.

  Of course he would no longer be able to retain the dignity to call himself an independent merchant if he immediately begged Holo’s forgiveness every time something so silly came up. But right now, in this room that would be filled with smoke if they fed the fire too quickly, anyone would want her tail to warm them at night. A merchant needed to be able to calculate profit and loss.

  “Simply put, his job is helping immigrants. If that’s being backed by a king or the aristocracy, it would be in order to seize control of lands. If it’s being backed by the Church, it would be in order to spread their gospel. But no matter the reasons behind it, they still have the same results: once the immigrants arrive at their haven, if they’re fortunate enough to settle there it will become their new home.”

  “Ah..”

  “It may be a difficult job, but it’s potentially very profitable and will earn much thanks if successful. I’ve even heard that some doing this have become aristocrats themselves, on the request of the villagers or townspeople they helped. But among those who immigrate to a new land, many have lost their homes because of war, famine or disease. That’s why-”

  Lawrence turned his eyes to Holo.

  “That’s why, if possible, I wanted you to just let the riddle go.”

  “Hmph.”

  She turned away from him and flung some skin that hadn’t been cleaned off her dried meat into the stove. The ashes in the stove swept up in response as Cole’s eyes followed them, as though he was witnessing something marvelous.

  “For us wolves, the concept of establishing a new home does not exist. A home is a home, regardless of who lives there. What matters is the land itself. Besides, you were most likely worried that I would say something like this right?”

  On their journey, he and Holo had argued a countless number of times. She already knew his thought processes like the back of her hand.

  “Please find a home for me as well, will you not?”

  She had put on her coquettish manner and looked at him with upturned eyes. Unexpectedly, Cole actually watched the entire scene as it unfolded. Lawrence knew she was angry. But he also knew her anger was akin to a kitten holding out its paw, beckoning for someone to play with it.

  “Males truly are dumb fools!”

  “..I can say nothing to the contrary.”

  “Seriously.”

  She took a swig from her bottle after derisively getting in the last word. Lawrence looked on with a helpless expression and a palm on his forehead. So far, everything was playing out as usual. All that remained was for Cole to smile cheerfully and their ritual would be complete. But Holo’s tail was swishing back and forth. They had to wake up early tomorrow as well.

  “All of this anger has exhausted me. Good night.”

  Her group leadership skills were impressive indeed.

  * * *

  It was just after noon on the third day that they arrived at the Brondel Monastery. Perhaps it was a blessing that it had only snowed hard on the second day of their journey, but the fact that they weren’t given a hard time during inspection and were able to enter the building’s grounds might not be be such a good thing after all.

  The high walls surrounding the place were indeed stylistically appropriate for a monastery, but as soon as they went through the entryway the atmosphere given off by the interior was like a town inhabited solely by merchants.

  “You, what would happen if you intentionally dropped some change on the ground?”

  Given that Holo couldn’t resist saying such a thing while on horseback, it went without saying just how thick that merchant atmosphere here was. If someone did drop some change it would catch everyone’s attention like sneezing in a church.

  “Maybe there really isn’t anything that can’t be bought here..”

  Pisky spoke playfully as he rode parallel to them. Lawrence chuckled in reply, but got the feeling that maybe he wasn’t entirely joking after all.

  The center of the path had been partially cleared of snow, with mountainous heaps piled up on both sides. The air that surrounded them as a result was as cold as being in an icy underground vault. Even some patches of their horse’s mane had frozen.

  Merchants were everywhere in spite of the cold, each speaking enthusiastically about his business with his arms crossed. Not only that, they seemed to be genuinely having a good time, given how they tapped their feet from the cold like excited children.

  “Well, please wait here for a moment while I go arrange your lodgings.”

  “We’re counting on you.”

  Pisky first tied the horse they were riding to a public stable before hopping off his own horse and half-running away. Mounting and dismounting a horse took some skill, especially when one’s body was so stiff from the cold. Lawrence dismounted as well, then grabbed Holo and Cole and helped them off the horse.

  After unloading their belongings from the sled, he expressed his gratitude to their driver for the safe journey. The horse remained as stoic and frozen as ever, but the man folded his arms across his chest in a polite gesture of farewell. He was the very image of a devout northerner.

  “You know, this place is surprisingly big. Did you not say that this was only an annex of sorts?”

  “My knowledge isn’t exactly complete, so I really can’t be sure either. But I do know that it’s supposed to be a trading post where ’there’s enough wool to fill the Winfield Strait.’ Look! They even have stained glass windows over there.”

  Indeed, on the top floor of an impressive three-story stone building were windows reflecting the blue-grey sky that occasionally cast a snowflake down upon them. Not all of the buildings here had glass windows, but they all gave off a sense of grandeur and seemed solid enough to shrug off a modest attack.

  All five of those buildings were built on either side of the spacious road that led from the entrance. But they weren’t alone. There were also public stables with sheds to feed the sheep behind them. As if the scale of this place wasn’t already impressive enough, Pisky had also told them that there were several places just like it.

  “Aye, ‘tis quite an impressive feat indeed to build a place like this out here in the snow.”

  Holo gazed forward with a confident smile on her face. This branch of the monastery was specifically for merchants. It might only be a branch some distance from the main monastery, but it certainly didn’t have an appearance that would tarnish their reputation.

  At the end of the road was a building even more breathtaking than the rest, so much so that it moved one’s heart to reverence. Atop its steeple, which seemed to touch the heavens, was the Church’s emblem. Beneath was a bell so enormous not even fourteen horses could move it.

  That building was likely the holy sanctuary where merchants went to find inner peace. In fact, it probably did bring peace to their souls, even if the sense of weight it emanated seemed enough to crush a man.

  “This reminds me of something I heard in school.”

  “Hmm?”

  “I heard the clerics of the north are better-suited for interrogating heretics.”

  The implication of Cole’s words was clear to Lawrence – they were interrogators who never showed mercy. Indeed, it was precisely because they dwelled out here that the bearded clergymen had the cold, heartless eyes of a hawk which made them seem well-adapted to the role of heresy interrogation.

  “But that was a long time ago, was it not?”

  Lawrence followed Holo’s gaze and watched a monk with robes thicker than a sheep’s coat, as he led a large group of merchants out of a building and enthusiastically chatted with them for a
while. He had a rosy complexion and plump cheeks to go with his plump body. His form gave off no trace of humility, purity, or virtuous poverty.

  “Indeed. These days even one such as yourself can visit here on a pilgrimage, after all.”

  The expression that she revealed brimmed with confidence, with a smile that didn’t seem quite genuine.

  “..This worries me.”

  As he watched the white breath rise from his mouth and surveyed his surroundings, he received a kick from Holo. He snapped back to reality and saw the fury in her eyes, quickly realizing that she’d misinterpreted him.

  “Ah, I didn’t mean you.. I’d already jumped ahead in my mind.”

  Despite his explanation she was still eying him suspiciously, so he continued.

  “I’m worried that there are too many people here.”

  “Umm, do you mean..”

  Cole suddenly interjected. He’d been glancing around for a while now with eyes full of wonderment. It seemed that he vaguely sensed what Lawrence was worried about.

  “There’s just too many people for a place this size. No matter how grand a place this is, merchants and monks don’t know how to sleep in close quarters, and can’t happily spend their nights together in cramped rooms.”

  “Are you implying that lodgings for us may be unavailable?”

  This place needed to have a place for negotiations, a place to store contracts, and a place to discuss the details of those contracts. Not only that, it also needed workers to manage those areas and maintain the buildings, not to mention cooks. Plus, if a merchant of high status was visiting they would surely have a substantial entourage.

  Lawrence knew he wasn’t just feeling pessimistic because of the bad weather. One’s instincts were oddly prescient in a monastery before God, so his was probably dead on. They looked around nervously until they spotted Pisky half-running back to them from a small building. He cut straight to the chase as he neared them, just like any merchant who made his living with haste instead of careful negotiation.

  “I’m terribly sorry. There’s just too many people here, so I was unable to book a room for the three of you.”

  He had prepared himself for this, but Lawrence was still momentarily at a loss. Pisky continued.

  “It’s possible you’ll have to sleep side by side with others in one of the larger rooms..”

  He paused mid-sentence and turned to Holo. What would happen if a girl like her was present in a crowded room? It was like flinging a piece of meat to a pack of starving dogs.

  “Another option is to find you a room without floorboards, where you could spend the night. But in such cold weather, it won’t be much different from camping out. What a pain! I was told that a large number of people suddenly surged in here in the past two days.”

  “There’s no room in the stables, either?”

  “Even the storerooms for hay are full, since they’re likely to be even warmer than a room this time of year. I don’t think I even need to mention the storerooms for wool.”

  The concern resurfaced on Pisky’s face as he tried to resolve this problem for Lawrence and company, like he was a traveler who had come across a collapsed bridge on his way. Lawrence couldn’t help but see the earnest effort he was making for their sake, and not for business. No wonder Holo had given him such a positive evaluation.

  Yet the situation wasn’t going to change for the better just because Pisky was being earnest. They would at least need bedding if they were going to stay in a stone-built room without floorboards. Just as Lawrence was going to mention this, a commotion stirred up in the area around them. More precisely, voices were clamoring out from a particular direction.

  “Oh! The White Army returns in victory!”

  One of the chatting merchants had shouted out. Lawrence cast his sight in the direction of the entrance to see the source of the clamor, and he immediately understood. Countless sheep could be seen coming in, accompanied by a rumbling sound and soft tremors in the ground.

  Not even a contingent of fully-equipped mercenaries could offer resistance against a flock of this magnitude. As they entered the wide open gates, spears and sheepdogs herded the sheep to their designated sheds behind the stables.

  After a while, the bells that were so commonly heard on the fields became audible, and four shepherds finally walked in. They greeted the merchants they were familiar with, patted their dogs on the head, and gave their thanks to God for allowing their day’s work to safely conclude.

  Now these were folks who lived in virtuous poverty. And yet they still came across as dignified. As Lawrence watched them, his mind began to wander. Norah, whom they’d met a while ago, wouldn’t have to suffer such hardship if she could find a job at a place like this.

  “Your thoughts are written all over your face.”

  Holo’s words pulled him back to reality. It was all too obvious who was the lamb and was the wolf, given how he cringed as he looked at her. But his pathetic reaction seemed to satisfy her, so rather than continuing her assault she spoke coolly.

  “Fate truly does exist. This world is simply so complicated that not everything will go as one wishes.”

  “..Yeah, that’s true.”

  Many of the situations that had happened on their journey seemed to corroborate her words, when he reflected on things. As they quietly spoke he sensed someone’s gaze upon them, and raised his head. His eyes fell on the gates that the sheep had just passed through like a surging wave.

  With the sheep already some distance inside, the gates were being closed. The atmosphere was beginning to calm down again. However, the shepherds remained by the gates, and Lawrence suspected that one of them, an elderly man, was watching him.

  “The workroom? No, maybe the storage room at the far end of the hall? Or maybe.. huh?”

  Pisky had still been struggling for a solution to their lodging crisis, but raised his head when Lawrence raised his. He stared at the shepherds for some time before suddenly slapping his palm.

  “That’s it! There might be some empty rooms in the shepherds’ dormitory! I hear a lot of them aren’t as busy in the winter.. I’ll go ask them!”

  He ran off. That one shepherd had gazed in their direction, but he might have simply been looking past them at the sanctuary. As Lawrence was about to convince himself that was the case, Holo shot a sudden glance at the shepherds.

  “One of them kept staring in our direction just now.”

  “So I wasn’t just imagining it.”

  Only Cole seemed surprised, shooting nervous glances every which way. In xenophobic towns and villages, residents tended to be openly hostile to visitors. But it didn’t seem that the shepherd had eyed them with hostility.

  “Maybe he just found your presence here unusual? After all, if I recall correctly this place doesn’t have any nuns, even if a number of monasteries mix men and women.”

  “Aye.. his was indeed a look of surprise.”

  “You didn’t accidentally reveal your ears or tail did you?”

  Despite it being an obvious joke, she lowered her chin, narrowed her eyes, and spoke with a face full of displeasure.

  “My ears and tail have been dangling in boredom beneath my robes. It is not as if anything exciting has been happening to make my heart race.”

  “That’s wonderful news. I prefer women with a delicate charm.”

  His foot was immediately stomped as Cole turned his face away in silent laughter. Pisky seemed to have successfully negotiated something just as the curtain fell on their third-rate comedy. He was happily waving in their direction.

  “Would you be alright with lodging in a shepherds’ dormitory?”

  “Would you prefer me to play a delicately charming girl right now?”

  Lawrence naturally posed his question not out of concern about her ability to face the shepherds, but out of concern that it would spoil her mood. But her firm and casual answer made it clear that she was sincerely alright with this. After all, she wasn’t a child a
nymore.

  “Then that’s probably our best option.”

  He waved to Pisky as he said so. He then felt a tinge of surprise when he saw Pisky shaking hands with the same elderly shepherd they were talking about just moments ago.

  It seemed that the shepherds of the Great Brondel Monastery, where legends circulated of a golden sheep, were about to share a period of cohabitation with the harvest-controlling Wisewolf of Yoitsu.

  Perhaps the world was more peaceful than one would expect.

  * * *

  “Huskins.”

  Because of the noise of setting his baggage on the ground, Lawrence almost missed that utterance. When it dawned on him that the shepherd was introducing himself, he hastily extended his right hand.

  “I’m Kraft Lawrence.”

  “..”

  Lawrence noticed that Huskins’ palm was tough as a sheep’s hoof as they shook hands by the doorway.

  “And these two are Holo and Cole. The odd winds of fate have us traveling together.”

  “Nice to meet you.”

  “Nice to meet you.”

  Huskins said nothing as he shook hands with them. The only word he uttered from start to finish was his name. His hand was the color of snow mixed with hay, he had long eyebrows, and he wore a beard that grew almost down to his chest.

  He had a solid build, neither hunched over nor too skinny. Beneath his wrinkled eyelids were two gray eyes staring deeply at the distant horizon. His manner seemed none too agile, yet it gave off a sense of reliability and reminded one of wild and aged sheep.

  A plains-walking spreader of truth, a wizened shepherd; a number of labels seemed to aptly describe Huskins. Ultimately he was just that type of shepherd, a venerable man whose very being exuded those qualities.

  “Thank you so much for your willing assistance.”

  According to Pisky, the shepherds who lived with Huskins only visited home once every few years. As long as Lawrence and company were willing to do the cooking, he was willing to let them use the spare rooms. Of course it was hardly an inn, so the rooms didn’t have separate fireplaces.. just one brick stove to share. Still, it was heaven compared to sleeping in a crowd of strangers or on a cold stone floor.