Town of Strife I

by Isuna Hasekura

  Still, she and Lawrence had always stayed together when investigating things or formulating plans in the past, and sending her off to do it alone was a strange sensation.

  Lawrence would undoubtedly feel the same way when he got a shop and hired people to help him.

  But then it suddenly occurred to him to wonder if, when that time came, Holo would be there.

  “…”

  Lawrence scratched his head and sighed.

  If that was the sort of thing he was worried about, then perhaps she should be the one concerned about leaving him alone, he was sure she would say.

  Lawrence smiled to himself, watching Holo cross the river along with all the other passengers before eventually turning his back and walking away.

  His destination was the delta marketplace branch of the Rowen Trade Guild.

  He was not crossing the river with Holo and visiting the main office for the simple reason that the people with whom he was acquainted were not there.

  In keeping with the delta marketplace’s status as a crucial trade link between the north and south sides of the town, every trade guild kept an office there to connect with traveling comrades and collect information on goods. Since buildings were regulated, guilds could not use them to compete with one another the way they did in town, but they were still constructed to best show off each guild’s specialties. Lawrence could look at each one and guess which trade guild it represented.

  Dozens or hundreds of merchants were attached to each trade house, all desperately competing with one another, and when Lawrence thought of this, it seemed a wonder to him.

  There was that much commerce in the world, and it had yet to run dry.

  Lawrence knocked on the door of his familiar-looking guild, feeling as if he were knocking on the cabin door of a small ship afloat upon a very large sea.

  “Oh, now, there’s a rare face.” There were several merchants on the first floor of the guild house, all of them dressed for travel.

  “It’s been too long, Kieman.”

  Within the room and directly opposite the door sat the master of the branch. The man, Kieman, with his beautiful blond hair, had been born to trade.

  His father was a prominent trader in Kerube, and thanks to that, Kieman had seen more goods from distant lands than anyone else, despite never having traveled far. His features were easily fine enough to have been a bard’s, and unlike the other merchants on the house’s first floor, who were trading wine and gossip, he bore not a single callus on his hands.

  Kieman was the prototypical rich man’s son, but while it seemed that the road-dusted merchants would inevitably hate him, their trust in him was actually rather strong.

  Although he was perhaps two years younger than Lawrence, unlike Lawrence, he made his living within a town.

  Those who did business in a town had no need to seek skills like being able to walk all day and night without collapsing or how to do business with someone whose language they did not speak.

  Kieman was seen by the traveling merchants as someone to whom they could entrust the tiny amount of temporary residence they enjoyed at the guild house.

  “Indeed, it has, Kraft Lawrence. You’ve arrived this time by land, I take it?”

  Perhaps no sea vessels had arrived in the past few days. “No, by ship—though it was via the river and not the sea.”

  At these words, Kieman brushed his chin with the feather end of his quill pen as he looked around the room.

  It was said that he had thousands of maps’ worth of knowledge of the land in his head.

  Despite having met Lawrence but twice, he was searching his mind for the trade route by which Lawrence had arrived.

  “I’m not on my usual route. There was some trouble in Lenos.”

  “Ah, I see.”

  Kieman’s smile revealed even less than Holo’s inscrutable smile.

  Town merchants lived for decades in the same towns in which they were born, and in so doing, they learned all of one another’s facial tics and tells, the better to divine one another’s true intentions. As a result, town merchants were far craftier than traveling merchants. The fact of his youth made the young master of this branch office all the more imposing.

  With effort, Lawrence kept his composure and produced the silver coins that were the customary offering upon visiting a trade house, then spoke.

  “I saw rather an interesting show by the spring of gold.”

  “Heh. An interesting show, indeed, Mr. Lawrence—most impressive. Though it’s a rather impenetrable display, even for a traveling merchant.”

  Not so much as glancing at the five trenni that Lawrence placed there, Kieman leaned across the counter and smiled like a child let in on a secret.

  “One never knows where the sting may be laid, even in a seemingly transparent conversation. Even now Chief Jeeta at the main office is out and about, trying to protect our coin purses.”

  Of House Chief Jeeta, the man who headed the Rowen Trade Guild in Kerube, Lawrence knew nothing but his name, so there was a possibility he had been among the merchants Eve called out to.

  Which would mean that despite Eve not living in Kerube and leading a company here, she was facing off against various leaders of trade guilds in the city before they could band together as a faction.

  Was there any man whose chest did not swell at a tale of a young knight confronting a giant?

  A feeling of envy rose up inside Lawrence, but while he might admit as much to Eve, he certainly would not to Kieman.

  Kieman’s ability made him entirely untrustworthy.

  “So there’s a sting, is there? From what I heard, the landowners of the north side are so many fish, flopping about on land.”

  “Yes, they were caught decades ago and are long since dried out. But this year, the lack of the northern campaign has slowed the flow of gold. It seems necessity knows no law.”

  If the money going to the landowners who lived on the north side was a royalty for the use of the delta marketplace, then it was probably collected as a tax.

  In which case, if the traffic of goods and people slowed, it would translate directly to a loss in tax revenue.

  But the reason the moneylenders would continue to profit while the debtors would be ruined whether or not they profited or took a loss was because the lenders would always be able to collect the same amount in interest.

  “Perhaps only a passerby like me would imagine that making another loan to show compassion would turn out better in the future.”

  Kieman accepted the five silver trenni without any particular emotion and wrote out a receipt.

  For someone who kept ledgers on the comings and goings of who knew how many great sea vessels, that was all five trenni was worth.

  Lawrence found himself nostalgic for the exaggerated pleasure of Jakob, the Ruvinheigen guild house master, at having received a donation of trenni.

  “Not at all. Normally it would be exactly so, but unfortunately, they’re sons of men who continued to pay interest until they died, and they themselves have been paying interest since they were born. Then ten or so years ago, there was a war in the Strait of Winfiel, and over the years as they fell behind on their interest, we on the south side offered to forgive some of their debt. They’d paid enough, we said.”

  “So they were stubborn.”

  “Exactly so. They stubbornly paid their interest, insisting they would eventually pay back in full. For our part, if we could only expand the marketplace, it would be trivial to reclaim the interest on the debt. But they know that, and so it only makes them more stubborn. ‘We won’t let you profit from us any further,’ they say.”

  Kieman shrugged as though at a loss for further words, and Lawrence quite agreed.

  He felt sorry for Eve on whom this was being taken out.

  Despite being fallen nobility from the kingdom of Winfiel and apparently wielding a fair amount of influence in the Roam River region, this was probably the reason behind her throwing all that awa
y and heading south.

  She had done whatever she had to do in order to climb back up and in so doing had sunk deeper and deeper into debt.

  “If only they would be more rational. As it is, marriage between the north side and south side is still difficult, to say nothing of moving one’s household.”

  Kieman seemed happy to speak, but it was clear it was not out of any particular favor toward Lawrence.

  No doubt he imagined Lawrence to have brought the subject up out of the idle curiosity of a traveling merchant.

  But he was also probably thinking that as a representative of the Rowen Trade Guild, he could not have Lawrence going around saying things that contradicted the guild’s position.

  He had been so informative as a way of explaining to Lawrence that this was the guild line and to warn him that deviating from it would bring consequences.

  Not understanding this would be dangerous, but having taken notice of the fact, Lawrence now imagined he could go to any trade guild and enjoy its protection as long as he fell into line.

  “I see. So that means the rumor I heard might not necessarily be mistaken.”

  “Rumor?”

  Information gathering was of paramount importance for a trade guild man like Kieman, and Lawrence had to smile at the way this piqued his interest far more than the five trenni that were on the counter a moment ago.

  Among traveling merchants, betraying this level of interest always lowered one’s status, even for a tasty rumor.

  “Yes, it seems the Jean Company on the north side of town is being exploited by the powers that be there.”

  Of course, this was mere speculation, but the moment Lawrence spoke it, it became truth.

  Kieman’s expression hardly changed.

  In fact, it changed too little.

  “Might I ask…where you heard that?”

  He could have purposefully played dumb, but Kieman seemed to realize that Lawrence had seen through him.

  His eyes turned tense.

  Lawrence now had to choose his words carefully.

  He tried tossing a big rock into the pond.

  “Actually, there was a strange former gentry in Lenos that I…”

  “…Made a business deal with,” he meant to say, but Lawrence didn’t finish the sentence.

  While Kieman’s face made it seem like he had just heard a funny story, his elbow lightly trapped Lawrence’s clothing against the counter.

  His facial expression and body language were complete opposites.

  “Mr. Lawrence, you seem tired from your journey. Would you care to rest yourself inside?”

  The guild house had a dining room as well as beds and fireplaces for overnight stays.

  Although that was not, of course, what Kieman meant.

  Lawrence’s bait seemed to have caught him a bigger fish than he had expected.

  “Yes, with pleasure,” he said with an accommodating smile.

  Lawrence was led into what was surely Kieman’s office, where soup that was redolent with fish was brought out.

  This was not the sort of talk that called for wine, nor was a sweet childish drink appropriate.

  And here in a town where travelers were constantly passing through, a savory, hearty fish soup was often well received.

  “So, what is your relationship to the head of the Bolan family?”

  It seemed less like a question and more like an interrogation.

  Kieman had not touched his own soup.

  Lawrence noticed as much, and for a moment, he wondered if something suspicious had been added to the dish.

  “I am a traveling merchant, so I’m obviously not her dance partner.”

  “There was a disturbance. Something about furs, was it?”

  The information had either just arrived today, or a contact in Lenos had taken a fast horse and delivered the news the previous day.

  Lawrence had nothing to hide and so nodded, clearing his throat once.

  “We tried to complete a large business deal together, but she betrayed me at the last minute. I’ve been so frustrated about the whole affair that I came down the river to vent my spleen at her.”

  “Surely you’re joking.” Either he was used to toying with others or unused to being toyed with himself.

  A bit of anger crept into Kieman’s features, and it somehow made Lawrence think of a younger Holo.

  “The part about the business deal is true, and I did come down the river in search of Eve. However, my goal was to ask for her aid.”

  “In business?”

  Lawrence shook his head. “I came across something quite strange in my travels. That happenstance led me to follow a certain silly tale.”

  “A silly…tale?”

  “Yes.”

  Kieman rolled his eyes up as though he were gazing at the stars in the sky; then he continued. “You refer to the story of the wolf remains.”

  “Yes. For you to hit upon it so soon, it must be quite a famous tale around here.”

  “Famous it is, yes, but…Mr. Lawrence, is that truly what you’re pursuing?” He seemed less taken aback than he was simply disbelieving.

  Perhaps the story was such that he could not imagine why anyone would chase it.

  “I can see you’re shocked.”

  “No, not as such, but…” It was a pitiful excuse, as Kieman himself was well aware. “My apologies. There’s no point in hiding it. I am indeed shocked.”

  “My traveling companion was born in the north. It concerns her homeland, and she desperately wishes to find the truth.”

  Here in a town where north and south collided, cultural and religious clashes were daily occurrences.

  The reason Lawrence gave would be, if anything, more convincing in such a place.

  “I see…What shocks me, though, is not the fact that you’re chasing the story in and of itself.”

  It was the same reaction as Reynolds at the Jean Company.

  But the words he continued with were different.

  “Rather, what I find shocking is that while having an acquaintance with Eve Bolan, you would use it to pursue this wild-goose chase of all things.”

  Lawrence thought for a moment.

  He tried to logically pinpoint Kieman’s thought process.

  “In other words, if I know Eve, I could use her to pursue any number of legitimate opportunities,” Lawrence prompted, at which Kieman made a fine face and nodded.

  “The reason I brought you back here, Mr. Lawrence, is that her name is extremely important in this town at the moment, and we’re in a very delicate position.”

  “Meaning?”

  If Eve’s name was important and the town’s position delicate, then the reason for that would likewise be so.

  Lawrence guessed there was only about a fifty-fifty chance that his question would be answered, but it seemed he had won that bet.

  “She’s using her status as former nobility to secretly cooperate with the town headmen for profit. She’s probably the only one who has a complete picture of all the interested parties. No one knows what the impact might be of a single mistake in their dealings with her. I called you back here and told you of this, Mr. Lawrence, for the same reason I spoke with you earlier.”

  He was referring to the countertop conversation about the relationship between the north and south.

  That had indeed not been out of the kindness of his heart, but instead an explanation of the trade guild’s thinking.

  “So to hear that you’ve come here not to do business with Eve, but instead to ask her for clues to your folly of a quest—it not only surprises me, but also comes as an enormous relief.”

  Kieman spoke with an amiable demeanor, but behind his words was an order: “Do not do business with Eve in this town.

  “But I think you are correct to seek her advice regarding the wolf remains. I doubt there’s anyone with as much knowledge of the Roam River region as she.”

  This meant that he did not mind if Lawrence wanted to go on thi
s wild-goose chase.

  It also implied that Kieman believed the tale of the wolf bones to be utter folly.

  “Still, I must wonder at what history led you to do business with her. Here in this town, there are many who wish to deal with her, but she’s utterly unapproachable. I’m sure anyone who can get a favorable response from her will do well…”

  Of course, he would wonder at it.

  If Eve was so important, the trade guild would have to be scheming to get involved with her.

  “I did nothing. She approached me, and only now am I starting to understand why.”

  “Oh?”

  “She ingratiated herself with the headmen, used them, profited, and then was unable to pay them back. Or perhaps she simply didn’t want to. It was none other than Eve who was clashing with the south side’s coin purse mercenaries.”

  Kieman was once again surprised, and perhaps unconsciously trying to hide it, he stroked his face and nodded.

  “I was truly deceived in my dealings in Lenos. I’d wagered not only the money I’d raised by selling my precious companion into hock, but also my own life. And in the end—well, the knives and hatchets came out, but the reason I think she pulled me into the deal was that by that time, the only person she could deceive and use was a traveling merchant like me.”

  When he thought about it that way, that was probably also why the slave-trading house so easily lent him the money to buy the furs.

  That was just how highly Eve’s name was valued.

  “I see…That does seem likely. I must admit I’m rather…envious that you could ask for her help even after knives and hatchets had come out.”

  Impressed at how well chosen those words were, Lawrence nodded and answered. “True colors come out when you squabble like children over a purse full of coin. I don’t know that Eve and I are friends exactly, but we do share some embarrassing memories, let’s say.”

  That was not the complete truth, but it was not far from it.