Spice & Wolf X (DWT)

by Isuna Hasekura

  “What are your thoughts?”

  And yet, they didn’t respond. In fact, the room was filled with a lax atmosphere that almost felt fatigued. Pisky looked at Lawrence, his eyes begging Lawrence to offer a more persuasive argument, lest the four men doom their plan to failure. Just as Lawrence was about to open his mouth in a panic, Holo interrupted.

  “If you have thoughts, please do not hesitate to share them with us.”

  Everyone turned to her in astonishment, but the Wisewolf was undaunted.

  “God said to not feign lack of interest.”

  Anyone who joked around in such a setting was either a clown or a fool, because the lofty poise of the four men at the table - with heads high and chests out - was no mere act. However, their status was only esteemed in the world of men. There was one cunning point of fact that applied in the place they were in right now: a monastery where monks prayed to an existence higher than even Huskins and Holo - the One True God.

  “Miss.. begging your pardon, as a maiden of great faith who prays daily, but could you please clarify?”

  “God exists far beyond the reach of man. Even with my hood over my eyes and my head bowed low, when I rely on His power it becomes child’s play to see through such details.”

  An extraordinary aura was a basis of great power. The daunting atmosphere emanating from the four who were at the table wasn’t visible to the eyes. Establishing such an atmosphere required more than simple acknowledgment from Lawrence’s party, but also their conviction that the men were indeed distinguished. For one to not be able to judge such an atmosphere implied that he or she was a born fool, or someone who lived by entirely different philosophies.

  “Thank you.. for sharing your precious wisdom with us.”

  When faced with some impudent brat with their head in the clouds, a powerful man only had to put them in their place. But if that brat was a girl, putting her in her place would only lead to awkwardness.

  The accepted way to deal with insignificant characters like women or children was to put on a slight smile, comfort and console them, and leave them in the background like a vase. Lawrence had been bound by these social trappings himself not too long ago, so he couldn’t help but laugh freely at the sight of them all stiffly smiling.

  “So, should I re-ask my question?”

  Their faces reddened, making it all the more obvious just how pale they had just been. They found themselves struggling between their positions, common sense and dignity. Even a thin blanket would warm one up if one rubbed up against it.

  Was it Holo’s plan to infuriate them, then strike them hard and reign them in when they were too furious to even respond? Such a strategy was quite likely to succeed, and if it did work on these four it would be quite a mean feat. But this wasn’t a children’s quarrel, so Lawrence moved in to repeat his question when-

  “No.”

  One of the red-faced men spoke firmly from between his tightly-shut lips.

  “That will be unnecessary.”

  He then raised his right hand up above his shoulder, and the servant next to the wall immediately handed him a white handkerchief. The man’s face faded to its original color as he loudly blew his nose.

  ”That will do. That just reminded me of something some twenty-two years ago.”

  Another of the men raised an eyebrow at the one who was talking.

  “That was quite like my wife when she first married into my family by dowry. From her I learned that the truth cannot be sought purely with logic.”

  Lawrence sensed the mood shift as he heard a strange low sound, which he soon realized was the four men laughing together.

  “Furthermore, everyday business decisions often defy common logic. Everyone..”

  His voice rose like the precursor to a proclamation at round-table meeting.

  “May I have the final word?”

  “Agreed.”

  The other three consented instantly. He then directed his eyes at Lawrence.

  “Regarding the topic we’ve just discussed, there’s one thing I wish to ask you, Kraft Lawrence.”

  “Very well.”

  Lawrence swore that it was blood he was sweating out from his palms.

  “What is it that makes you so certain about this? Please share.”

  Lawrence’s hand immediately reach into his breast pocket and produced a letter. That was his ace, the card that raised the legend of the wolf up from a simple rumor. This ace was signed by both Keeman and Eve, who were widely known across the Winfield Strait. Eve was even once a noble of the Winfield Kingdom. These two signatures were coupled with the fact that Eve had revealed that the Church had purchased the wolf’s bones.

  “The one who wrote me this letter was Fleur von Eiterzentel Mariel Boland.”

  A long name was a stamp of nobility, but only to those who were knowledgeable enough to understand the true meaning of a given name. Two pairs of eyebrows raised at the table, and their gazes transferred to the parchment Lawrence lay before them.

  Any merchant doing business in Winfield was sure to know of Eve, who had revealed her full name to him, a mere traveling merchant. The two men quickly exchanged a glance and a third nodded his head slightly. Just as the word “success!” flashed across Lawrence’s mind, however..

  “What else?”

  “Huh?”

  Lawrence almost returned the question, but managed to quickly cover that up with a soft cough. He cleared his throat several times before extending his uninjured hand toward the table to ask forgiveness for his rudeness. It was one of the gestures drilled into him over his years of negotiation experience, so it came naturally. In truth he was so panicked that his mind had gone blank.

  What else? The man who seemed to have the most say had answered Lawrence with that question. Wasn’t the letter enough? Lawrence had just played his trump card, believing that it was the ideal move to make in already-favorable circumstances. If that wasn’t enough, he had no more tricks to pull out of his sleeve. Several stares pierced him from across the table.

  “The Wolf and the Eye of Wisdom.. the reputation of two merchants so rare does indeed hold much sway. However, if we are to base a judgment solely on the weights of names, there are others whose advice holds even more sway, I believe. Even out here in the middle of nowhere.”

  A business negotiation was a merchant’s battlefield. Just as a moment of battlefield hesitation could cost a mercenary his life, faltering at a negotiation could cost a merchant a contract. The fact that Lawrence’s eyes had begun wandering off to the side after hearing those words meant those veteran merchants seated at the table had slayed him. Indeed, his confidence was gone, and he was no more than a puppet dancing in their strings.

  Sighs were heard from around the table. Lawrence watched Pisky open his mouth, but struggle to find the words to say. Lawrence was only further delayed as he fought to regain his composure. If the signatures of Keeman and Eve weren’t good enough to win their trust, there was nothing they could do. They had failed. Just as that feeling washed over his heart-

  “Lawrence.”

  A familiar voice uttered a word it never used. Lawrence spun around to face it, and acknowledged that Holo had indeed spoken his name. She stared at him with exasperation in her eyes, and he swore he could hear the sound of a messy table being cleared - no, the sound of a heavy door, just barely opened a crack, being closed once more.

  He stared into her eyes despite this sinking feeling that the door of opportunity was closing on them. Those amber eyes with traces of red, with the same expression. Those eyes that always had an answer just behind them, an answer that should be obvious and was already on the tip of his tongue, but was veiled just far enough behind those eyes that he couldn’t reach it.

  It was always such a simple answer. He just had to convince himself that it wasn’t over, and hurry up and find it. Hurry up and think back on everything that’s been said! He racked his brains and employed every scrap of wisdom he possessed. Time was merciless
, but merchants never knew what to give up.

  “There is more!”

  His voice raised in pitch to its utmost limit. His sudden outburst shocked everyone in the room, and they recoiled as they stared at him. Their expressions were like they had witnessed a dead man come back to life, and in a manner of speaking that’s just what had happened. A negotiating merchant whose wandering eyes had betrayed his lack of confidence might as well be a rotting corpse.

  Lawrence cried out so loudly that he stunned himself back in silence, at a loss for words as his now-attentive audience hung on his next word. His left hand, throbbing with pain, snapped him back out of his over-anxiety and reminded him he was still alive. Then his right hand, being firmly clasped by a third hand, reminded him that he wasn’t alone.

  “I’ve seen a wolf.”

  It lasted but a moment, but the ensuing silence felt like it dragged out for an eternity.

  “A wolf?”

  “An.. enormous wolf.”

  He had no real idea why he’d spoken those words. All he knew was that they were the right words, so he spoke them with confidence. In truth he knew they were the answer right from the start. After all, what had the four men at the table told him when they decided to hear him out? They told him they would pay respect to his name.

  They went out of their way to say that, yet what he produced was a parchment with the names of others. No wonder Holo was exasperated. They didn’t want proof, just the reason behind his unwavering conviction. That was what they really wanted.

  “I’m traveling for the sake of that wolf.. that giant wolf.”

  Would they think he’d snapped out of anxiety? Or maybe think he was desperately reaching for attention with a ridiculous claim? Normally, his face would be betraying his anxiety, but since he wasn’t lying he had no need to be anxious this time.

  “..are you from the north?”

  One of the men asked.

  “These two are.”

  Lawrence pointed at Holo and Cole. The four men then narrowed their eyes and stared off into the distance, as if they were trying to focus their eyes on Holo and Cole, both far away in the north.

  Pisky seemed agonized over having had no opportunity to speak. Lawrence felt as if he was standing on thin ice now, not solid ground. Anyone watching them now would probably turn away in fear over what would happen.

  The four men closed their eyes and fell into silence. Lawrence stood stock-still and razor-straight, even though he wasn’t being supported by any logic.

  “Is that so?”

  That brief utterance was what finally broke the silence.

  “I see. Fate moves in strange ways.”

  “May God show us His blessing!”

  Lawrence couldn’t have been the only one who felt those words were a bit ominous. Four men, seated at a round table, whose clothes carried the scent of pepper and saffron, now spoke in elegant and fluid tones.

  “No matter how unbelievable it is, the truth does indeed reveal itself some day.”

  “..huh?”

  “We’ve been waiting a long time. Well, maybe it would be more accurate to say that we’ve been unable to come to a decision for a long time.”

  “What kind of decision..”

  Pisky and Lawrence both murmured that before exchanging a glance. Their ears may have drooped with age, but the hearing of the four men at the table was not to be underestimated.

  “You see, we have indeed received word that the monastery has purchased the wolf’s bones. But the consequences of any decision the four of us may make were simply too heavy.. we couldn’t base our judgment on just that information, because..”

  He stared intently at Lawrence, but despite his serious demeanor he was giving off an almost gentle air.

  “..because us old-timers dug that information up with rusty tools, so we couldn’t help but doubt its credibility. But if someone younger were to arrive at the same conclusion, without relying purely on deduction, it would give us the reason we need to conclude the information was valid.”

  “T-then..”

  “Indeed. We know the Brondel Monastery is backed into a corner. There is no time for further delays. But if they truly have purchased the wolf’s bones, we’ve already formulated a plan of our own.”

  The four men smiled wearily.

  “This war’s been tough on us old-timers, because people our age always engage in petty tactics.”

  “That’s just it. We have no particular grudge against our present opponent, and this information is a poison potent enough to inflict a lethal wound on them instantly.”

  The four of them began talking to each other like men acting their age. It was no wonder that Pisky would lower his head as he listened, and Lawrence as well. Holo’s head tilted to one side, however, and while Cole seemed visibly relaxed he also seemed to have no clue what was going on.

  Lawrence couldn’t help but feel bitter as he considered what he had to say next, knowing that he was going to be saying it to someone other than Holo. The four men at the table possessed not only her cunning, but open minds as well.

  “Then..”

  They had backed Lawrence and his party into a corner, where he had to no choice but say this.

  “Please leave it to us.”

  They were doing this in part to protect themselves, and in part to use someone else to do that job. In Lawrence and the others they saw a group who could substitute for them, and in turn Lawrence and the others now had a path to success. The interpersonal relationships here weren’t as simple as one side attacking and the other defending.

  The fact that Lawrence was so attracted to an opponent like Holo, who couldn’t be handled by conventional means, was perhaps because he admired how they seemed to rise above the rules of society. And of course, he had come here precisely to seize control of the reins.

  “Ah, yes, I have another letter with me.”

  Lawrence took another letter out of his jacket, the one issue the tax decree and stamped with the King’s seal.

  “This is.. but why do you have this..?”

  It was his turn to smile now, so he ignored their question, coughed, and continued.

  “This decree could lead to the following results.”

  The four men listened intently to the words Lawrence now spoke after jumping up onto center-stage.

  * * *

  The most traditional way to evade taxes was to claim one had no money. A king couldn’t just force penniless subjects to pay up, and if he rashly seized their property then people would think twice about setting foot in his country anymore.

  Under these circumstances, however, everyone would adopt whatever scheme they could to hide their money and make the tax collectors fight for every coin. Hiding money under the floorboards, or golden sculptures inside lead blocks, or basically anything that was easier on the concealer than the consealee.

  Transporting large sums of money at once was too obvious, but no would one notice little bits at a time being moved deep into the mountains. There were always too few tax collectors compared to tax payers.

  Of course that didn’t mean the king, city council, or Church would give up on collecting taxes. The name of God always gave leadership a way to pressure people into paying their taxes, even without relying on a few tax collectors or worrying about how deep underground a person’s money was buried.

  But such methods were so heavy-handed that they often lead to situations that were disadvantageous to all involved. After all, bashing someone with a stick also harmed the hand of the assailant. Even worse, there were too many conditions and limitations on such shows of power.

  Still, the Winfield Kingdom could consider itself somewhat lucky. King Sylvan had only used such forceful methods of taxation when he had no choice left but to do so. That is, until he had to recall and re-mint new coins from the old ones.

  Combined with his law forbidding the circulation of the old currency, any money hidden away in bottles, under floorboards, or buried undergrou
nd was entirely worthless. Digging it back up and melting it for its gold or silver might yield some value, but melting currency wasn’t easy or free, and any furnaces were sure to be under constant surveillance.

  Because of this, everyone would take their old currency to the mint. The king could then offer them whatever rate exchange rate he wanted for the old coins, while simultaneously imposing a tax on the process.

  “From past experience I can deduce that the monastery has cash. The king surely know this, and so chose this method. Since even merchants know to convert cash into merchandise, it’s quite unlikely that they’d keep all of their funds in the form of certificates.”

  “The King’s probably using this chance to take down the monastery, since they have a lot of influence in Winfield, and hopes to boot us out with it. On the one hand, he can take its land in lieu of taxes, and on the other hand that would passively get rid of us since that’s what we’re here for.”

  “He’s probably trying to seize control of the wool trade as well.”

  “It’s a distinct possibility. Nowhere else moves as much wool as this monastery does. So long as he controls it, he can control the prices as he wishes as well.”

  Lawrence and Pisky stood at either side of the round table, with Holo and Cole standing next to Lawrence. In the center of the table lay a tree-diagram of the possibilities that Lawrence and Cole had spent the night deducing. Even if one wasn’t clever enough to improvise such things, they could still ponder over the details carefully and discover something useful.

  “If they hadn’t bought the wolf’s bones, they’d surely be able to gather up what little cash they had to comply with the King’s decree. But since they don’t have enough..”

  “They’ll probably just pretend they did.”

  Pisky spoke up and finished his thought.

  “They’ll probably just fill some crates with stones, and fling them into a chasm somewhere to pretend there was an accident during transport. The shepherds surely know of places they could set up such an ‘accident,’ and if there isn’t a convenient chasm there’s sure to be a marsh.”