Town of Strife I

by Isuna Hasekura

  However, because he had assumed that the simple fact of the box count not adding up would be sufficient leverage on the Jean Company, Lawrence still had not heard the reason of the discrepancy from Col.

  Lawrence had not, of course, figured it out on his own.

  “Well, if there’s no reason to use it, you can just tell me once our journey’s over, by way of thanks.”

  Col, who had understood the reason all by himself, nodded, then gave a satisfied smile.

  “Now then, as far as this all goes, about all we can do is go back to Eve and thank her, gathering some information along the way. And we shouldn’t hurry too much. We don’t want to be suspected of anything.”

  “…Er, so…because if there’s anyone seriously following us, we’ll wind up making them think we’re up to something, right?”

  The boy’s constant studiousness was certainly admirable.

  Lawrence nodded. “Reynolds and Eve didn’t mind telling us all about the wolf remains because they’ve both thought the whole thing through and decided it’s nonsense. If they hear anything that gives it the ring of truth, they’ll both shut their mouths on the spot.”

  “So if we keep searching for the tale too seriously, they’ll start to wonder if we’ve discovered a key that proves the story is true.”

  And, of course, the key that proved the story was true was none other than Holo’s existence.

  Col was well aware of that as he held up his right index finger, with an expression on his face as if he were a chef explaining that a dish’s secret ingredient was just a dash of fresh herbs.

  Or like a puppy proudly performing a trick he had just learned.

  But he did not seem cheeky or arrogant, probably because Col himself was affecting the proud attitude purposefully.

  He was just genuinely friendly.

  “But the irony is that we can ask about it so easily because nobody believes it’s true. Even though we’re asking so we can figure out the truth.”

  “It’s also a question of faith. You have to have the courage to believe you’re right even when everyone around you says you’re wrong.”

  Col nodded gravely.

  “So this would be one way to put that into practice: If a priest asks God if the people can be saved and gets no reply, it’s not because God is being careless, but rather the question is…?”

  The future Church law scholar rang like a cast bell when struck. “The question’s obvious is the reason.”

  This kind of calm, pleasant intellectual discussion was a bit different from what he had with Holo.

  Lawrence had heard that true scholars had conversations like this from morning till night, and he felt like he understood why.

  The two were walking aimlessly as they talked, and somewhere along the line, Col had begun walking beside Lawrence, which was not bad at all.

  If they were to walk like this for another ten years, he was sure Col would become a dear friend.

  When Lawrence thought on it, he started to look forward to the future in spite of himself.

  But someone came between the two.

  Someone who had been left out of the conversation—Holo.

  “Seems like pleasant chat’s happening right before me,” she said, her face a bit annoyed.

  Lawrence decided it was better not to try to analyze what that statement might mean.

  “If there is no need to go straight back to that vixen’s burrow, then I’ve a place I’d like to go.”

  “And that is?” asked Lawrence, and Holo pointed to the mouth of the river.

  “That lively looking place.”

  It went without saying that she meant the marketplace on the delta.

  Her tail was wagging beneath her robe, and she was probably anticipating eating something tasty.

  From the stimulating intellectual conversation with Col, they had returned to the usual obvious topics.

  Lawrence directed his eyes past Holo to Col.

  Col nodded a little hesitantly.

  About half of Holo’s desire to go to the delta was for her own sake—the other half was for Col’s.

  It was difficult to weigh the merits of Col’s intellectual conversation against Holo’s frank obviousness—because Holo’s words always concealed something else.

  So Lawrence replied, hiding something in his words to Holo as well.

  “You only ever think about food,” he said as though at a loss, at which Holo’s amber eyes rolled and her upper lip curled into a sneering smile.

  “I am always thinking about you, as well,” she said in a higher, flattering tone, clinging to Lawrence’s arm.

  Lawrence had forgotten to put an herb crumb in the corner of his own mouth, so this made them even.

  Col’s face turned red, and he seemed not to know where he should look.

  Lawrence could not help feeling a little bit superior, but he also could not simply enjoy it.

  As to why, that was because in exchange for her performance, Holo would be expecting compensation.

  “That’s because I am your food.” Lawrence paid his price, which made Holo grin, her ears moving enough to nearly brush her hood back.

  “So you’ll loosen your purse strings a bit for me?”

  Lawrence looked at Col.

  “What do you think?” his gaze asked.

  And when it came to this sort of verbal sparring, Col was able to answer as well as Holo. “I think you’ll need to get a room.”

  “Yes, I do need some wine,” said Lawrence, wrapping up Col’s perfect joke.

  The delta in the town of Kerube had a large reservoir in the center.

  All sorts of fish, big and small, were kept in it, and occasionally groups of turtles or waterfowl would congregate there.

  But no golden-haired poet would sit at the water’s edge spinning rhyme, and the words spoken there were not verses of the place’s surpassing beauty.

  Because the fish in the reservoir swam in circles within nets and the turtles and waterfowl would eventually have their legs or mouths bound.

  The words spoken at the waterfront were straightforward amounts and negotiations. The throats that shouted them were stout and strong, as were the hands that grabbed at the fish.

  The people who came to the market to do business called the reservoir the spring of gold.

  Kerube’s delta market extended two hundred paces north from the reservoir, two hundred paces south, three hundred to the east, and four hundred to the west.

  This extent had been decided in the distant past, and while it seemed the delta had plenty of space to accommodate the market, as far as Lawrence had heard or seen, it had never been expanded.

  Which meant, of course, that the buildings were built to conserve land area.

  The constant complaint about the overcrowding was that it was so bad you could see your neighbor’s ledger.

  No sooner had Lawrence and company arrived on the delta than Holo flattened her ears back.

  It might have been a bit of a joke, but Lawrence didn’t think it was necessarily for show.

  No matter when you came, the largest market in the port town of Kerube possessed an unbelievable commotion.

  “Is today a festival day or something?” a taken-aback Col asked Holo, who stood next to him as they crossed the pier after Lawrence had paid the boatman.

  The delta had three docks, and Lawrence and company had arrived at the one used almost exclusively by traffic going to and from the north side of the town. So instead of the gate made from run-aground ships that was the market’s most famous landmark, there was a quarried stone that had been brought ashore and simply left there.

  The market proper started just past that with crowds of people standing shoulder to shoulder, none of them looking directly ahead but instead gazing intently at the shops they passed as they walked by.

  “Hmm? This is hardly the only place so crowded, you know. I have been to towns where they’re like this through and through,” Holo said sagely, puffing up in
a matter not so unlike Col himself.

  “I-is that so…? The only really crowded place I’ve ever been is Aquent…”

  “Aye. Do not worry; youth is an ignorant time. All you need do is watch and learn.”

  “That’s surely true. After all, you said nearly the same thing to me the first time we visited a port town,” said Lawrence from behind the two, putting his hand on Holo’s head.

  In the centuries Holo had spent in Pasloe, the world had changed enough for even a god to grow old. When it came to being ignorant about the state of the world, Holo was surely the worse offender.

  But when it came to boasting, the same was true.

  Irritated, she brushed Lawrence’s hand off her head and glared at him threateningly. “As the contents of your coin purse are so small, aye, you must truly enjoy boasting of how much more worldly you are than I!”

  “I could say precisely the same thing to you. The only large city you’ve ever visited is Ruvinheigen!”

  Holo drew her chin in and puffed her cheeks out.

  Col had been watching the exchange nervously, but this made Holo’s “play with me!” attitude all too obvious.

  “Only because you’re a skinflint of a traveling merchant who pinches every penny, even for food. I lived a captive’s life, unable to go where I wished. Or will you take me where I wish to go?”

  They were difficult words, heavy with implication and calling into question their entire journey so far—if Lawrence misinterpreted even one, he could expect a sound kick in the rear.

  Col seemed not to know how much of it was a joke, and he was unable to hide his discomfort.

  So Lawrence answered courteously and carefully. “Merchants interpret everything through money. So as long as it costs nothing, I will cooperate with you as much as you need.”

  “For example?” asked Holo, giving a rare half smile beneath her hood.

  She seemed incapable of hiding the absurdity of her own performance.

  “For example…hmm…,” said Lawrence, thinking. Holo irritatedly struck him, then grabbed his clothes and pulled him close.

  “In that case, how about some pillow talk? Or do I need to make it clearer than that?”

  She had made it quite clear enough, Lawrence stopped himself from saying.

  Just when he thought they were fighting, the tone of the exchange had taken a sudden change, and Col’s face reddened as he swallowed and watched the two.

  Lawrence mused that being an actor would not be so bad.

  “It’s true that pillow talk doesn’t cost anything. Although whenever I carry you to bed, you’re always drunk.”

  Holo slipped away from Lawrence, a malicious smile on her face.

  Lawrence prepared himself to show his best you-got-me face.

  “What else can I do? Your conversation is far too boring to endure sober.”

  Lawrence wanted someone to compliment them on having matured so much that they could engage in such an obvious parody of their usual conversation.

  “Now then, shall we have a look around?” suggested Holo, smacking her lips with relish, apparently satisfied with their joking.

  What she wanted to have a look at was not the market itself, but rather the food arrayed within it.

  Despite having just eaten her fill of chicken, her belly was evidently already empty.

  “U-um, what food is this town known for, I wonder…,” said Col to Holo, still trying to be polite to her despite being totally unable to keep up with the rapid shifts in the conversation thus far.

  “Hmph. When you say it like that, it makes it sound like all I care about is food.”

  “Wha—? N-no, that’s not what I—”

  If her robe had been pulled off, no doubt Holo’s tail would have been swishing to and fro as she toyed with Col mercilessly. In any case, Lawrence was not listening to Col’s stumbling words as he was teased.

  He started walking alone, then passed the stone that served as a gate and turned back.

  “Come, hurry!”

  Despite the noise of the bustling market, the clear tone of a lass’s voice would still attract attention.

  A merchant who was sitting on the stone and writing something glanced at Holo, the hand on his slate going awry. Paradoxically, her slim, chaste features made it obvious she was abstaining for profit. From the perspective of an ascetic hermit, this was a grave sin.

  Following Holo’s gaze led to Lawrence, which at the very least made things unfavorable.

  And though the merchant soon dropped his gaze back to his slate and continued writing, Lawrence could clearly see that he could not help occasionally letting it slip past the edge of the slate, and only with effort did Lawrence hide a rueful chuckle.

  “Stop your dallying! Come, now—” shouted Holo. Though it was unclear whether she was aware of the gaze upon her, she felt rushed enough that the tip of her swishing tail poked out from under her robe, and having shouted, she suddenly fell silent.

  “…?”

  No matter how good at acting she might have been, even the best disguise would wear thin if it was worn long enough.

  And this did not seem like an act, so like the young merchant before him had just done, Lawrence followed Holo’s gaze.

  And then he saw.

  Col looked back, too, and clapped his hand over his mouth, glancing surreptitiously at Lawrence.

  At the end of Holo’s gaze, just getting off the boat, was the familiar form of a certain merchant.

  Wearing the same clothes as usual, regarding everything in the world as so many coins to be counted past sleepy, half-lidded eyes, the owner of that fearless gaze turned it upon Lawrence.

  But the faint surprise that Eve evinced was surely not a skillful act, but genuine.

  For around Eve were two men, both well dressed and well fed, trailed by two men also well dressed but with sinister looks in their eyes—the encounter had to be a coincidence.

  The young merchant who had been sitting on the rock pondering his business noticed Eve and the others and scrambled to his feet, trotting into the marketplace as though making his escape.

  An older fishmonger, standing idly beside his fish cart as he waited for his broker to show up, bowed respectfully as if he were meeting an ocean spirit.

  The men around Eve seemed to regard the actions of the young merchant and the old fishmonger as completely ordinary. It was as though Lawrence were the abnormal one, and they stared at him openly, as though appraising him.

  Then they sniffed, as if he was beneath their contempt.

  They turned and regarded Eve as if asking what this boy’s problem was.

  “I thought for sure you’d headed south…but maybe sightseeing comes first,” said Eve in an amused tone.

  The youngest of the four men handled the payment of their ferryman’s fee.

  Eve did not even glance at them, instead facing Lawrence as she spoke.

  She spared Holo only a moment’s look, and Lawrence was sure that if he had checked, Holo’s eyes would have been full of hostility.

  The men around Eve murmured into each other’s ears as they considered Lawrence.

  “Yes, as a bit of a break from work. My wound still aches a bit, you see.” Lawrence let some hostility slip into his voice as he could feel Holo’s gaze boring into his back.

  Eve would surely understand that much.

  She narrowed her eyes faintly, and raising her hand, gave two, then three signals to the men.

  The two well-fed men directed unfriendly smiles at Lawrence, and the two mean-eyed ones completely ignored the group as they passed, heading into the marketplace.

  Just as in the legend from the scriptures, as they walked, the sea of people seemed to part before them.

  They had to be powerful figures in the town.

  Just as they walked away, Holo approached Lawrence.

  “For my part, I was in the middle of resting up when that lot flushed me out. They’re big fish on the north side for Kerube,” said Eve.<
br />
  “Are they merchants?” Lawrence asked, at which Eve shook her head.

  “They’re not involved in buying or selling goods, but they’re awfully good at bookkeeping.”

  Eve’s eyes were colored with her distaste, and in an instant, Lawrence understood exactly what sort of men they were. They probably had special privileges in Kerube.

  They might have been landowners, or perhaps they controlled tax collection or fishing licensure. At the very least, it was clear that they lived in a world where simply relaxing in a chair would bring money flowing to them.

  If they were making even the slightest bow in Eve’s direction, they must know how useful she could be.

  Or perhaps despite their power, they still lacked a noble title.

  Lawrence could not be sure, but the situation smelled highly amusing.

  “If you’re interested, come to the spring of gold. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

  Just as Eve left, she shot Holo a quick glance.

  Then her form entered the throng in the marketplace, and she disappeared—as if she could blend into or stand out of a crowd at will.

  Impressed, Lawrence watched her go before a kick from Holo brought him back to the present.

  “You’ve some nerve, watching another female right in front of me.”

  Lawrence had heard that line somewhere before but only shrugged, not offering a proper answer. “Shall I look only at you from now on, then?” he inquired, playfully bring his face close to Holo’s and boldly touching her cheek.

  An irritated Holo then immediately started walking toward the marketplace.

  “Ah, Miss Holo!” Col reflexively followed her but stopped short after a step.

  He looked back hesitantly. “E-er—”

  “Hmm?”

  “Are you not going to…?”

  By which he of course meant following Holo.

  Col was probably worried that by running after Holo, he was usurping Lawrence’s role.

  “I am not. I think she’d like you to go with her.”

  “I don’t—”

  “You don’t think so?” asked Lawrence, and Col shook his head.

  Even if he were released, Col surely would not try to fix his mussed hair.

  Evidently, he was too busy thinking about other things to bother with it.