As Lawrence poured the water over the crusty rye bread, he looked at the meat that had dried overnight; it was darker in color now. Stroking his beard, he decided there was no harm in putting the question to Holo.
“Want to come along?”
He was referring, of course, to gathering information about the wolf bones that they were pursuing at Holo’s request.
But Holo only flopped over on the bed, her tail swishing lazily to and fro.
“Enjoy your rest,” Lawrence said and closed the door.
He wondered, though, if the slight waver in his voice had given him away.
The area was full of merchants working with the Ruvik Alliance. In the process of searching for talk of the wolf bones, he would surely come across all sorts of other news.
He went outside, where the sun’s reflection off the snow made it brighter than the brightest summer day. Hiding his confident smile behind both hands, he began to walk.
“Assaj vermilion, arol woad, vud oak, rocatta saffron.”
“Rocatta saffron is fine indeed. I hear the Duke of Milone donned magnificent yellow robes at a banquet recently.”
“You mean the banquet that terrified even the Bishop of Mirah? Thanks to that, one of the noblemen who’s a regular of mine went on an ordering tear, and I wound up turning a serious profit.”
“Oh? Must be nice. If you’re looking for spices, I’ll have some coming in on the next boat. What do you say? They’re from all over…”
If all he had to go by were the conversations he could overhear from across the street, Lawrence would have wondered just where he was.
Given that merchants’ friends were also merchants, it was probably possible to buy any good from anywhere in the world just by following the connections of the merchants in this town. With such promise before him, how could Lawrence’s heart fail to beat faster in his chest?
Unlike them, he was a mere traveling merchant, and while he could not match them for knowledge of well-known, high-priced goods, when it came to the obscure specialties of small villages, he would not be outdone.
Perhaps he should go join that circle there? No, no—maybe this one here. Temptation assailed him.
But Lawrence finally swallowed this all down and arrived at a building.
Above its entrance hung a green banner with a moon and a shield on it, identifying it as an inn used by the Ruvik Alliance.
“You needn’t knock,” said one of a group of merchants, who were having an energetic conversation about blacksmiths.
Lawrence smiled faintly, at which not just the merchant who had spoken up, but the entire group tipped their hats and acknowledged him with a bow.
This place is a merchants’ paradise, Lawrence thought to himself and then pushed the door open.
“Excuse me—does Mr. Piasky happen to be in?”
“Hmm…Piasky? Oh, you mean Lag. He’s in the back, writing—that fellow there.”
“My thanks.” Lawrence nodded to the man, then headed for the corner of the room, the like of which could be found on the first floor of any trading house or inn for relaxation and recreation.
There were about twenty round tables in the room, around which merchants played cards, discussed maps, and weighed coins on scales.
Among them was Piasky, who was furiously writing something.
Lawrence hesitated to disturb him, but the veteran traveling merchant was perceptive enough to spot mercenaries two hilltops away.
He looked up and fixed his gaze on Lawrence and then immediately smiled.
“Good morning, Mr. Lawrence. Did you sleep well last night?”
“I did, thank you. Though I doubt I will enjoy the same experience tonight.”
“Oh? Why is that?” Piasky’s voice rose in a carefully interrogative tone, playing along with Lawrence’s leading statement.
What an amiable young man, Lawrence thought to himself before pointed up at his own eyes. “I believe this is the first time I’ve seen a traveling merchant wearing spectacles. I’m so jealous I may lose sleep over it.”
“Oh, these? Ha-ha-ha! Well, we’re in an abbey, the home of writing, after all. You can find cast-off spectacles quite easily here. These don’t belong to me, naturally.”
It was hard enough to make transparent glass, but a master craftsman could grind and polish it into a lens.
While glasses were expensive and rare, they were practically a necessity for the monks who had to transcribe finely ornamented letters with only candlelight to work by.
“So, what news, then? Oh, do please sit down.”
Lawrence noticed a slate on the table, upon which the names and quantities of a variety of goods were written in chalk. Piasky seemed to be making a list of goods to bring here on his next visit.
“A single merchant can keep a list of goods to trade in his head, but when you join an organization, you need proof of your orders.”
“So figures over memories. Still, in a company like that, your name won’t just be recorded in the Church’s burial register—you’ll live on in the memories of your comrades.”
“Quite so, quite so, God willing.” Piasky smiled and continued writing, dipping his quill in an ink pot. “You’ll have to excuse my writing. I assume you’re here to inquire about our merry progress?”
“…Is it all right to be talking about it so openly?”
“Ha-ha-ha, yes, it’s fine. I know everyone here. Outsiders are always carefully observed.”
Still smiling, Lawrence was not so foolish as to try looking around.
And likewise still smiling, Piasky directed a startlingly keen gaze at Lawrence. “Indeed, Deutchmann’s trust in you bought you a ticket in here, so worry not. For my part, in return for furnishing you information, I’m tempted to ask how exactly you earned that trust…but I suppose that’s a trade secret.”
Piasky’s smile was full of mischief.
Lawrence was careful not to let his guard down, but his own smile was a natural one. “Unfortunately, yes.”
“I quite understand. So, about the circumstances here, it feels as though we’re grinding our teeth before the walls of a fortress that should fall soon. But our jaw is getting tired, so we’re taking a bit of a break.”
“…They’ve been able to endure, despite all being pressed by such numbers?”
“We’ve tried to engage in standard negotiations any number of times. But never to any avail, so now I hear we’re trying to reach the head abbot, assistant head abbot, another head abbot of a sister abbey who was once powerful here, and even going all the way down to the head archivist, trying to win someone, anyone over. With this many merchants, surely one of them knows someone who’s close to one of them. And yet they’ve flatly rejected everything. The head abbot must be in a terrible position, and yet…it’s rather impressive.”
Rather than speaking derisively, Piasky sounded genuinely impressed.
No doubt from the perspective of someone within the organization, the fact that the abbey had continued to weather the Ruvik Alliance’s assault was nigh miraculous.
“So…Mr. Lawrence, just what is it you’ve come to ask me?” He smiled pleasantly.
Lawrence was a veteran of many exchanges with Holo, who was a genius at tricking people into revealing the truth. He was perfectly capable of dealing with this sort of attack.
In the end, he did not play dumb, instead glancing away momentarily. Boasting now wouldn’t accomplish anything, he decided, since this inn was flying the banner of the Ruvik Alliance.
Even if he were able to manipulate Piasky, it was much more likely he would be seen as a cheeky upstart rather than a canny merchant.
“Actually, it’s a bit embarrassing to say out in the open like this.”
“Most of the talk being exchanged here in these abbey grounds is too embarrassing to be heard. Please, speak your mind.” He was like a priest hearing a confession.
“You truly think so?”
“Quite. I’m also personally rather interest
ed. I don’t have the sense you’ve come just to witness this sad state of affairs. I’d assume you’re here to meet someone, but then you sought out me, not a monk. I’m a merchant, and so I can’t help being as curious as a cat. When the curtain stirs, I want to peek behind it.”
Lawrence had met very few people who he thought it would be amusing to do business with. He suddenly wished their back-and-forth could continue forever, but this was the moment to strike and triumph.
He felt a twinge of regret as he faked a smile and spoke. “I was hoping we’d be able to view the holy relics.”
Piasky’s expression instantly changed. He stroked his face as though trying to recover from a mistake. “Apologies. Ah…excuse me. I suppose I still have much to learn. I surely didn’t expect that to be your answer.”
“Do you not doubt me?”
“Please don’t tease me. This is a branch of the great Brondel Abbey. If I were to be more surprised at the notion of you coming to view holy relics than I would be at you coming for profit, I’d only invite the anger of God.” Piasky smiled, looked at the tip of his quill pen, and seemed to notice that the ink had nearly dried. He dipped it again in the ink pot and continued his writing. “I truly imagined you’d come for another reason.”
“Other reason?”
“Yes. Ah, but now I understand. It makes sense. You don’t let your guard down easily, Mr. Lawrence. For you to have gone to the trouble of visiting Mr. Deutchmann first before coming here, your aim is having a look at the asset records we completed?”
This was what Lawrence had discussed with Holo at the port inn.
If the Ruvik Alliance had come to acquire the abbey’s landholdings, he was sure they would have done a thorough investigation of the abbey’s assets.
True, it was something he had concluded in hindsight, but there was no need to humiliate himself by admitting as much. So Lawrence neither shook his head nor nodded it, merely smiling.
“Given how famous the abbey is, it seemed likely to have many holy relics. Naturally we haven’t recorded them all, but…what sort of thing are you searching for? I may be able to help you.”
And here was the crux. Lawrence decided to hedge his bets with his answer. “Something connected to the golden sheep.”
“The golden sheep…”
When a clever merchant repeated words that had just been spoken to him, it was practically certain he was thinking things over. In the time it took to repeat those words, he might consider a hundred different things.
But even having bought a bit of time, Piasky said nothing further. Instead, he showed the same sort of smile that Col had whenever Holo teased him.
No doubt the surrounding merchants that were listening in were now inwardly disappointed at his performance.
“As far as relics passed down from saints go, I know something about several such items, but if it’s the golden sheep…”
“So, it’s nonsense, you’re saying.”
“Well, I couldn’t be so certain,” said Piasky, glancing at the merchants one table over.
The two of them seemed to be playing cards. Their ears pricked up, but they only shrugged in response.
“The tale of the golden sheep’s circulated through the abbey for centuries. Or in other words…”
“…That shows that in all those centuries, it’s never been found.”
“More or less, yes,” said Piasky. His expression was full of regret, probably because he was trying to avoid looking simply shocked that Lawrence would go to such lengths on a fool’s errand.
There was no need for Lawrence to bother trying to preserve his dignity now, but if his reputation suffered too badly here, it could become a hindrance to further information gathering.
There was a very fine line between being humble and being looked down upon—and to that end, Lawrence needed to make a course correction.
“Truthfully, before I came here, I was told by many people it was a foolish notion. But it seems people like me aren’t the only ones who get the notion to chase after their dreams—those who spend their days staring at ledgers sometimes feel likewise. Which is how I came to be introduced to Mr. Deutchmann.”
“…Meaning?”
“The person who introduced me to Mr. Deutchmann must have seen what I was chasing and thought it interesting. He couldn’t very well chase such a tale himself, so he sent me on in his place. The more established one is, the more generous one can be to eccentrics.”
The best way to confidently lie was to use truth as a base and leave plenty of room for interpretation.
The pair of men playing cards behind Piasky nodded, as though believing the tale.
While it might be seen as unreasonable to abandon chasing a living in exchange for chasing a mad dream, it was not so very rare among wealthy men.
“So that’s how it is,” said Piasky quietly.
“Ah, you’re thinking you’ve learned another way to ingratiate yourself to the rich.”
“No, in my case, I’m quite serious.” Piasky’s self-conscious smile was strangely reassuring.
Lawrence did not want his reputation to either fall too low or soar too high. With this, he was confident he had established himself as a harmless merchant who had simply come to the town with a slightly odd goal.
Thus he felt emboldened to take a step forward.
“So this is why I’d like to learn as much as possible about the golden sheep. Is there anyone in the area who would know more?”
Any merchant who ignored the whims of a rich man was no merchant at all.
The surrounding traders who had been listening in all gathered round, smiling secretly into their wine cups.
Lawrence asked not after the wolf bones but instead the golden sheep, as he knew that wolves and sheep were always companions.
If there existed a relic that related to the golden sheep, it would lead him to more knowledge about the wolf bones. At the very least, he would be able to catch their scent.
Or so he had thought, but ultimately he learned less than he expected to.
Worse, as befitted the sort of talk that happened with wine in one hand, when he finally returned to the inn room in the evening, his footing was rather unsteady.
Holo was sitting on the bed, grooming her tail, and before she could move out of the way, Lawrence collapsed onto it.
She wriggled out from under his arm as Col hurried to bring water.
“Well, you’re in a fine state,” Holo said as she finally extracted herself, prompting Lawrence to muse that she was the last person who should be saying as much.
He took the bowl of water that Col offered him and drank, still lying on his side. If he had not mastered such tricks, he never would have been able to get by in cheap, crowded inn rooms.
After drinking the bowl dry, he gave it back to Col.
If he closed his eyes now, he would fall asleep on the spot.
“So, how much were you able to learn?” Holo glared at Lawrence with narrowed eyes, pulling on his ear as she asked.
Had he been sober, he would have gotten angry, but given that he was currently using Holo’s fluffy, warm tail as a pillow, her anger was entirely understandable as well.
“Surely you can tell whether or not I enjoyed my wine…can’t you?”
“Aye. If you’d claimed to enjoy your drinking, I’d have bitten your ears off.”
“Had I known it would end this way, I would’ve brought you along…sadly, my lady the wisewolf had already taken to her drink.”
His wine-soaked mind could no longer exercise any sort of restraint. He spoke sarcastically in spite of himself, earning a slap to the face from Holo.
Honestly, it would have only made it harder to gather information had Holo been with him, and Holo was well aware of that, which was why she had not ventured to go along.
Holo’s hand made a sharp smack when it hit Lawrence’s cheek, after which she lightly pinched it. “Anything else you’d like to say, hmm?”
The stimu
lation was pleasant on his numbed face, and he closed his eyes and answered, “Just let me sleep.”
“Fool. Still, unlike you, I’m one who knows how to show her gratitude.”
Despite his rapidly fading consciousness, he could perceive the sensation of his cheek being stroked.
His very next memory was of opening his eyes not to the dim of twilight, but to the pitch-black of already fallen night.
He was unable to sit up in bed with any kind of speed. He was quite sure that he had fallen asleep in the precise position he had occupied when Holo stroked his cheek.
He did not have to move his head to know it was aching.
Closing his eyes briefly and regretting not at least assuming a more comfortable position before falling asleep, he slowly sat up.
His body felt like dry soil, and he was stiff and sore all over. The only saving grace was that he was still covered by a blanket.
No, not a blanket, he realized.
Having sat up, he noticed dark brown animal fur clinging to his clothing. Had Holo covered him with her tail the entire time? He brushed the fur free, and Holo’s sweet scent reached his nose.
“Ow—”
He straightened up, hand on his sleep-kinked neck. A faint stream of light made its way through the cracks in the room’s door, which slowly opened. Thanks to the liquor, even the light from the hearth hurt his eyes.
“You’re awake, are you?”
“…I think so.”
“Dinner’s still hot. Will you take some?”
“…Water.”
In place of a reply, Holo only shrugged and then fetched a pitcher.
“Where’s Col?”
“At the moment, he’s hearing a lecture from that shepherd on how to deal with snow. Our lad Col is quite the listener.” Faintly illuminated by the light through the door, Holo’s bold smile was rather terrifying. Col was such a good listener that he made it all too easy to prattle on proudly about all sorts of things, which seemed to be sitting even worse with Holo than Lawrence would have guessed.
She stood next to Lawrence, refusing to sit as she looked down at him, which corroborated his conclusion.
Spice and Wolf, Vol. 10 Page 9
