With movements so quick it was hard to imagine she was still drunk, she threw off the blankets, but could not win against the cold and shivered once.
The footsteps were very close now.
Shfff…tup…tokk.
Holo looked back and forth between Lawrence and the doorway. She seemed to want to ask who was there, but Lawrence did not know himself.
The sound stopped at the door. Slowly the handle was turned, and the door opened…
“…Hu—” Lawrence began, but didn’t have time to finish before rushing toward the figure, who started to collapse.
And then Lawrence was speechless. In front of him was a snow-covered, barely alive form that looked very much like Huskins but was hardly human.
Lawrence found himself utterly unable to form words.
“…”
Icicles dangled from the figure’s eyebrows, and it was impossible to tell whether the beard that rimmed his mouth was ice or hair. The hand that gripped the staff was caked in encrusted snow, and it was impossible to tell where the hand ended and the staff began.
His breathing was quiet. Eerily quiet—and beneath the snow and ice, only his eyes moved, glancing this way and that.
No one spoke.
Their demonic visitor’s back was oddly shaped—from his head sprouted a curled ram’s horns and his knees were jointed backwards, like a sheep’s.
“…Oh, God,” murmured Lawrence, mostly unconsciously.
That instant, the ice covering the demon’s face split with a small krak.
By the time he realized the demon was smiling, Holo was right by his side.
“…A wolf, eh…” As he spoke, the icicles dangling from his beard clattered against one another.
The voice belonged to Huskins.
“Had you not the time to disguise yourself?”
“…” Huskins smiled wordlessly and slowly wiped his face with the hand that did not hold his staff.
He looked as though he had endured something that would have long since killed a normal man.
“You’re here to mock me, then?” Holo’s voice was colder than the air in the room.
The half-man, half-beast demon called Huskins narrowed his eyes, as though he were looking into a bright light, staggering as he tried to stand. Lawrence reflexively tried to support his shoulder.
He was a demon. That was it—he was a demon.
But Lawrence had a reason for lending him a shoulder to lean on—Holo had not tried to hide her ears and tail.
“…Is it not natural…for a sheep to hide itself before a wolf?”
The sound of cracking ice accompanied his movements.
Lawrence helped Huskins over to the hearth, where he sat.
Shortly thereafter came a small cry—the sound of Col’s gasp upon awakening.
“The best place to hide a tree is in the forest, eh? I never noticed.”
“…I am not like you.” Huskins fixed Holo in one eye.
Lawrence could tell from Holo’s ears and tail that Huskins’s words had disturbed her.
But she still had the ability to admit reality. She nodded. “And?” she said grudgingly.
Huskins was a being similar to Holo. In and of itself that did not bother Lawrence. His travels thus far had taught him that such creatures did hide in human civilization—in ominous forests next to towns, in segregated districts where townspeople feared to tread, or in fields of wheat, long after the villagers had lost faith in them.
So if anything, Lawrence was calmer than Holo as they waited for Huskins to speak.
“I have…a favor to ask.”
“A favor?”
The melting ice refroze in the chilly room.
Huskins nodded again emphatically, sighing as he spit out the words. “It’s a calamity…one far beyond my power to deal with.”
“So you wish to borrow mine?”
At Holo’s question, Huskins seemed to nod—but when Lawrence realized Huskins was not nodding, but rather shaking with mirth, Huskins put a trembling hand to his breast and produced a letter.
“Your power is your fangs and claws…but the age when such things ruled has passed. I give you this…” He directed his gaze to Lawrence.
“To me?”
“Yes…to the man who travels with the wolf. I let you stay here because…I wished to observe you. But I believe it was the will of the gods.”
“Hah, the gods, you say?” Holo bared her fangs and laughed derisively, but her intimidating, contemptuous expression elicited only a cold smile from Huskins.
“Just as you cling to this strange, gentle human…so, too, do I cling to the gods. That is all.”
“I-I do not—I hardly—!” Holo objected mightily, at a rare loss for words.
The difference between Huskins and Holo was like that of an old man and a child, and it was not simply due to the disparity in their appearances. For example, Huskins regarded the sputtering Holo but gave no triumphant, boastful smile. Quite the contrary, his expressionless face seemed to be somehow tender and kindly.
“You’re a merchant, are you not? Take this.”
“What is it…?”
“I found a strayed shepherd in the snow. Such things often happen…my sheepdog found him. He looked to still be praying, though the life had already left him.”
It was a single sealed letter. Written on sheepskin parchment with hair still on it, it was sealed with a red wax seal.
If the man had died out in the snow, he must have been a messenger from some other town bound for this one and had gotten lost on the way.
Unless travelers hurried, they would be caught by the snow and wind and night, but hurrying rapidly exhausted their reserves of strength. It was such a common occurrence that there were even thieves who specialized in finding their corpses once the snow melted and taking their belongings.
“In the end, I am a mere sheep. You understand, do you not, young wolf?” Huskins directed his words to Holo. Holo clutched her chest, as though a secret she held had been revealed.
“In the face of this letter, our strength means nothing,” finished Huskins, giving a heavy sigh. He closed his eyes.
The firewood had now fully caught the hearth’s flames and burned very brightly. The ice on Huskins’s body was finally beginning to melt, and Col had recovered enough to busy himself tending to Huskins, who seemed to find the attention pleasant.
At some point his body had reverted to human form, and it seemed like his earlier monstrous form was something out of a dream.
But as she continued to stand and look down on Huskins, Holo’s ears remained uncovered, her tail occasionally visible.
Lawrence looked at the contents of the letter Huskins had given him. And then he understood what Huskins had meant.
“Mr. Huskins. What do you need my help for?”
“The abbey…” Huskins paused for a moment, then closed his eyes and smiled thinly. “…I want you to protect it.”
“Er, I’m sorry, but—why?”
Huskins opened one gray eye and regarded Lawrence with it.
His gaze was steady and dignified, the gaze of a wild sheep that had roamed step-by-step across the vast plains.
It was different than Holo’s.
If Holo’s gaze were a sharp dagger, Huskins’s was a great hammer.
“It’s no surprise you’d wonder. Why would I, of anyone, bow down before God? You see, I too have relied on humans to live. Just like the young wolf.”
Instantly Holo seemed ready to refute him, but she was stopped by a glance from Huskins.
He was treating her like a child.
“I do not mean to anger you. I have taken human form and live a human life. It is no surprise I sought human strength.”
“Hmph. So, what have you done with this strength you’ve borrowed from the humans?”
“A home.”
“Eh?” Holo replied, her eyes widening.
Huskins continued, his voice and manner still quiet and clear. “Made a h
ome. On this land. A home of our own.”
The firewood crackled.
Holo’s eyes were like full moons.
“Nothing escapes the grasp of humans. Not the mountains, the forests, or the plains. So in order to create a place that would endure unchanging for centuries, we had no choice but to use their power. At first I was unsure whether it could succeed…but it did. A vast, quiet homeland was ours. And no matter who comes or when, they always say the same thing.”
“…This place hasn’t changed.”
Huskins smiled like a kind grandfather and took a deep breath. “It’s our greatest desire. We were driven from our home long ago and scattered. Some to desolate wilderness, others hiding among humans in their towns. And some wandered endlessly…This is a place where we can all meet again. A place to which all may return, no matter how far afield they live. This place.”
“That which scattered you…could it have been, was it the Moon-Hunting…?”
“Ha-ha…hah. So you know that much, do you? That will make things simpler to explain. Yes, it was indeed the Moon-Hunting Bear that took our home from us. Irawa Weir Muheddhunde in the old tongue.”
They had seen many stories of the bear that had been collected by a certain priest back in a tiny, meager town that worshipped a snake god.
Holo took a deep breath, like a child with a strange way of crying.
“When the calamity came, we were powerless, and there was nothing we could do. And now times have changed, and to protect this place, we need a new kind of power. The devices of humans are too fine for my hooves.”
When seeking a favor, it was very difficult to maintain an equal footing, neither abasing oneself nor being too demanding—nor too prideful.
But Huskins accepted the world as it was, and within it, did what he was able. And there was no doubt he had done so for centuries. So it had to be possible.
“We’ve had many troubles thus far. But this time, finally, they may be more than we can handle.”
Lawrence looked at the letter, then back to Huskins. “…This is a royal notice of taxation, isn’t it?”
“It was easier when the lords were still warring. The reason of our own era was enough to gain some small measure of stability then. But the long wars devastated the land. If the abbey were to fall, all would be lost. So I secretly aided Winfiel the First in unifying the nation. And that is where I erred.”
They were stronger than humans, and wiser, and had ruled the land before humans swept across it. The turn of ages was a common matter to them surely.
“But children never remember the debt they owe their parents, to say nothing of grandchildren. I can no longer take the public stage. All I can do is occasionally show myself to add a bit of legitimacy to their rule.”
“The legend…of the golden sheep.”
“Quite so. Of course, a few of those moments were due to my own carelessness when greeting a friend I’d not seen in ages.”
Jokes were all the more amusing when told in an inappropriate place and time. But once the ripple of ensuing laughter was over, it left behind a now obvious sense of nervousness.
“I’ve no head for counting coins, but even I can tell the abbey is on the verge of ruin. With each round of taxation, the pay we’re due falls more behind. Our friends have told us the abbey may not endure another round.”
“But this is…”
“I no longer know what to do. If I could stamp it with my hooves or grind it with my teeth, I would do so…but you’re a merchant, are you not? When humans drove our kind from the forests and mountains, there were always merchants in the shadows. To see one such merchant laughing with a wolf…” He heaved a long sigh. “You’re the only one on whom we can rely.”
“But—”
“I beg you.”
Lawrence had traveled alone for seven years. Many times had he delivered a final letter from a fallen comrade to a family. Confronted with a scene he did not wish to remember, his words failed him.
If it were a simple letter, he would accept it. But what Lawrence held in his hands was a royal notice of taxation.
“No.” As Lawrence continued to struggle for words, it was Holo who spoke up. “No. We cannot take such a risk.”
“Holo…”
“If you cannot do it, you must refuse. And you yourself said that getting involved in this business was dangerous. We shall leave tomorrow. If not tomorrow, then the day after. We are travelers. This has naught to do with us.”
After this barrage of words, Holo’s quick, short breaths were all that remained.
Had she seemed merely serious, Lawrence would have been angry, but Lawrence instead stood there blankly, leaving Col to tend to Huskins. When Holo came to her senses and looked at Lawrence, she shrank away.
Her expression was hard to describe.
Her tense lips made her seem angry, but she was trembling as though deeply sad. Her shoulders sagged, her fists clenched, and her face was very pale.
Lawrence could barely stand to look at her.
It was her jealousy that made her this way.
“Su-surely ’tis so, is it not? You said as much yourself. You said that it was dangerous. That is why I said we should leave. And yet—and yet you’re considering his request…!”
“Holo,” said Lawrence, taking her hand. She pulled away once, then again, then a third time, and then was docile.
Tears fell from her face.
She knew perfectly well that what she was saying was childish. She’d been able to endure listening to Piasky because his work was meant for humans. But Huskins was another matter entirely.
Worse, Huskins had lost his homeland to the Moon-Hunting Bear, which had also destroyed Yoitsu.
Huskins spoke. “Young wolf, was your home destroyed by him as well?”
Holo looked at Huskins with eyes that swirled with jealousy, envy, and agitation.
“We did not gain a new homeland easily. We took human form, became shepherds, and lived our lives quietly and unobtrusively. And we were prepared to do whatever it took to defend this land.”
“I could—!” Holo’s hoarse voice was somehow small, even as she cried out. “If it were to bring back my homeland…my Yoitsu…I, too, could…”
“I cannot but think you’ve never fought the bear, have you? Are you prepared to risk your life battling it?”
Holo’s face filled with rage. She surely thought Huskins was mocking her. Yet Huskins quietly and steadily gazed into her furious, red-tinged amber eyes.
“When he came to my homelands, I ran. I ran, you see, because there were many who I knew needed my protection. I led them away, and we escaped. I can remember the moment even now. There was a great full moon in the sky that night. I could see the ridge of the mountains across the vast plains, and above it shone the bright, bright moon. And we fled the plains—those fertile plains whose grasses we’d long grazed upon.”
Huskins body was visibly weakened. Like Holo, assuming human form surely subjected him to human limitations.
And yet he continued, the words falling from him as though the hearth’s flames were melting his frozen memories.
“I looked back in the direction of my home, and I saw it. The shadow of a vast bear so huge it looked as though it could sit on the ridge of the mountains. It was beautiful—even now, I think so. It roared, it raised a paw up as though to hunt the moon, and that moment still…”
The tale was from the distant past, when the hand of humans had yet to reach out—an era when the world still belonged to darkness and spirits.
“Even now, I think upon it fondly. It was the last great ruler of our world. It was a time when power and might ruled all. All my anger has left me. All that remains now is my nostalgia…”
Holo had missed the fight for her homeland and had only learned of its destruction centuries later—so forcing a childish smile was probably all she could manage. “F-for you, who ran like a coward, to speak of preparation…it is to laugh.”
It w
as childish stubbornness, and the wily, old Huskins countered it with ease.
“To live among the humans in their world, I started eating meat. It’s been centuries now.”
“…!” Holo’s eyes immediately went to the drying meat that hung from leather thongs. What kind of meat was it? And what kind of meat had been in the stew they had eaten with Huskins? After a few gasping breaths, Holo vomited.
Lawrence did not know if she had imagined herself doing the same thing Huskins had done or if she was simply prone to tears.
Huskins had been willing to eat the meat of sheep in order to pose as a shepherd.
Could Holo do the same thing?
“To keep this, my homeland, we have given up much. We have crossed lines that should never have been crossed. And if it is lost, we may never find another land where we may live in peace.”
He did not say these words to attack Holo. He was simply trying to be as clear as he could in defending his reasons for asking Lawrence’s help.
But still, Holo was envious of how Huskins had created a new homeland here.
She herself knew full well how foolish it was to envy someone who had struggled to re-create something they had lost. And not only that—she wanted to turn her back on them, to abandon someone who’d created a new homeland.
If she was interpreting Huskins’s words as an attack, it was because of her own guilt. Holo was caught between reason and emotion and finally chose to run.
She burst out crying like a child, and Lawrence caught her as she collapsed on the spot.
Huskins waited for Lawrence to put his arm around Holo before slowly speaking.
“…I’m well aware that your young wolf there has suffered greatly in this world. And by some unfathomable luck, she’s come to travel with a kindhearted human. I understand that she doesn’t wish to part with that. I understand that she wishes to protect it. But…,” said Huskins, slowly closing his eyes. “I, too, do not wish to part with this land. Our hard-won refuge…”
His words trailed off, and Col hastily put his hand to Huskins’s broad chest. Seeing Col’s obvious relief, it was clear that Huskins had merely exhausted himself.
Lawrence listened to the crackling firewood and the sobbing Holo as he looked over the notice of taxation Huskins had given him. The order of taxation written there would be extremely difficult to refuse.
Spice and Wolf, Vol. 10 Page 14
