Wolf & Parchment, Volume 1

by Isuna Hasekura

If the parchment had been switched the day before, there was certainly a higher risk of being discovered. In that light, Hyland’s proposition seemed the most likely.

  Pain still remained in Col’s chest, but Hyland had helped to relieve his unease and let him think more clearly. At any rate, this was not a time to blame himself.

  Though it was fact that they had been tricked, Col wondered if there was any meaning to such an obvious ruse. Clearly, since forgery was well within the realm of possibility, it would be fruitless to argue whether he had really written it or not. Most of all, the offending sentence was so blatantly intentional that it seemed excessive.

  Was this the archbishop’s way of stalling for even more time? But what would happen if word got out that they butted heads over such a thing? Rather than accept that Hyland and his subordinates like Col had gone insane, it seemed more likely for the townspeople to assume the archbishop had carried out some dishonorable scheme.

  He could only imagine it would have the complete opposite effect of what the archbishop wanted.

  Supposing it did cause something to happen, that would be…

  When he hit upon the answer, the blood drained from his face.

  “Those who have written such a passage…” The archbishop raised his voice. “…Are apt to be called heretics, are they not?”

  “What?!”

  When Hyland yelled, the doors to the office burst open.

  There stood the town’s garrison, lined up in formation.

  “Cease all resistance! You are suspected for the creation, possession, and circulation of banned heretical literature!”

  “Impossible!”

  As though Hyland’s exclamation was a signal, his guards placed their hands on the sheaths of their swords. They did not draw because doing so in a sacred house would immediately make them traitors.

  Suspicion of heresy.

  Now Col could see what the archbishop was doing, but there was something he still did not understand. Members of the city’s garrison should have been unable to act without the city council’s command. The council of a free city such as Atiph was comprised of local nobles and important merchants. Did they not already show support for Hyland’s plight?

  If he had not misunderstood, then there must have been one last missing piece to this puzzle.

  Then, the key to everything suddenly appeared before the soldiers.

  “Y-you’re…”

  Hyland gulped, and Col doubted his own eyes as well. The priests and archbishop all stood from their seats and placed their hands against their chests in a gesture of respect for God. A lone man who was on the older end of middle age appeared from among the guards, wearing pure white robes. Painted on his vestments was the crest of the Church in a bright crimson. The one who wore these robes was granted the protection and safe passage of any ruler or power holder, free from all regulation.

  That was because there was only one thing that reigned over this man, and it was the word of God.

  And that was because he traveled the world, entrusted with all the authority of God’s earthly proxy that was the pope—this man was a papal officer.

  “I hereby announce in the name of the pope—”

  He spoke in a heavy, distinct voice that did not allow for idle chatter as he produced a single piece of parchment.

  “We recognize the ideas put forth by the Kingdom of Winfiel as heresy, and all literature not dictated by God himself banned. The one hundred and seventeenth pope, Einmel Desir the Seventeenth.”

  From far away, Col could not tell if the wax seal on the parchment was real or not.

  However, if the papal officer had falsified the official sanction, then the target of the inquisition’s examination would be the archbishop.

  It had to be genuine.

  “All under Hyland are arrested in the name of God.”

  Soldiers poured into the room. Hyland’s guards lowered themselves in order to strike back, but he stopped them with a wave of his hand. There was no other choice. They were outnumbered, and if it came to pass that they lost after daring to draw their swords, there was no telling what sort of dishonor would stain his reputation. Blood was truly the most eloquent storyteller.

  And as the soldiers drew closer, rope in hand, Hyland quickly judged their expressions. On an emotional level, they were still on his side, though they had no choice but to act when the papal officer showed up.

  There remained a chance to turn the tide.

  For that, they had to remain innocent.

  “God favors the righteous.”

  They were arrested, and as they were being led out of the office, Hyland spoke those words to the archbishop. The archbishop averted his eyes with a tense expression, then suddenly showed the papal officer a flattering smile.

  Col and Myuri were also ushered away by the soldiers through the back entrance where everyone was squeezed into wagons.

  They were not escorted through the front due to the possibility of igniting the townspeople’s anger if they were seen.

  Then the wagons traveled for quite a while even though the town was small. The soldiers, who did not bother to hide their sympathy, had placed Col and Myuri in the same wagon, perhaps because she clung to him the entire time. He wanted to hold her hand, but he could not because his hands were tied behind his back.

  The wagon rattled along. Col could tell that the ground had changed from paved stone to a hard dirt path at some point. When everyone finally stepped out, they were surrounded by what seemed to be fields and orchards.

  “Is this…outside of town?” Myuri asked Col quietly. Only one thing came to mind when he imagined prisoners being taken to a place devoid of people. What was more, the earth was perfectly plowed.

  However, as he looked around, restraining his pounding heart, he could see the city walls beyond the trees. Certainly, they would not be suddenly put to death within the city.

  “Come.”

  The soldiers pulled the rope, bringing them around the wagon, and he was finally relieved.

  They had arrived at a large manor, which was not uncommon to see in rural areas and was most likely owned by the city nobles.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “There will be further orders. Stay put.”

  They entered the manor. Hyland’s guards were led underground, and then Hyland himself and his remaining entourage, including Col and Myuri, were brought upstairs. Their party was divided again as they walked down the halls, but luckily, Col was placed in the same room as Myuri. He was unsure if it was intentional, but Myuri had been calling him “Brother” loud enough for the soldiers to hear. That was probably why.

  At any rate, the cautionary rope restraints were removed from their wrists, and they were pushed into a room that resembled the lodging at a simple inn. There were no decorations—just a bed, desk, and chair. It was clearly anticlimactic for Myuri. Perhaps she imagined they would be put into a leaky, rat-infested, stone dungeon.

  “It seems like they’re treating us as people of a certain standing.”

  Col rubbed his now unbound wrists and opened the window, where he discovered a grid of metal bars, similar to the ones commonly found on prison cells. In the distance, he could see tall buildings and the church’s bell tower. It all seemed so far away, not because the sun had set and it was difficult to judge distance in the darkness, but because he was mentally exhausted. He tried to imagine the townspeople rising up and flooding the church to save them after learning about the arrest, but Col did not have it in him.

  He tried to shake the bars in the window, but they did not so much as wiggle. The entrance, too, was unusual. The door was a wood lattice fixed with sturdy metal hinges. Maybe it was a measure to prevent surprise attacks on anyone opening the door from the outside, allowing visual confirmation that the prisoners inside were not planning anything suspicious.

  He looked at the wall to see if there were any openings and noticed that words had been scribbled all over the surface. “Glory to our banner!”
“O spirits of great heroes, praise your justice,” “Shoulda killed that bastard subordinate when I had the chance”—they were the scrawling of the fairly influential people thrown in here long ago.

  “Those scribes were traitors,” Myuri said while she rubbed her wrists.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t heed your warnings.”

  “I told you so…is what I want to say, but what blondie said was true. There’s nothing we can do.”

  It just so happened that Col had been targeted.

  “But what are we going to do now, Brother?” she asked in a lowered voice, sounding anxious but somehow theatrical at the same time. Perhaps Myuri was recalling the smattering of adventure stories she had heard so many times.

  “Though the pope has sanctioned us as heretics, I do not think we will be beheaded immediately. I think inquisitors will hold an examination first.”

  “Oh, I know about that. That’s when they burn witches at the stake, right?”

  She must have heard that from a guest at the bathhouse.

  “They won’t do anything barbaric that would start widespread rumors. Especially since Heir Hyland is here.”

  Before their conversation, after calmly thinking about it, Col still could not really believe the pope’s sanction. The designation of “heretic” normally had the impression of something grander, a compelling force that could ravage entire regions, unbending in the face of the Church’s negotiations and persuasions, fueling outrage until it was finally exhausted. Looking back on history, the recognition and subjugation of heresy was often used as an excuse to suppress revolting peasants. In that respect, many lords must have been carefully watching the development of this commotion, especially since the Kingdom of Winfiel and the pope had been negotiating for three years already. Any rash moves were just as likely to come back and haunt the pope.

  Hyland had come to the town of Atiph as a representative of the kingdom, so to deem him a heretic and arrest him was hardly any different from a declaration of war on the Kingdom of Winfiel.

  Therefore, Col could not discount the possibility that it was actually a terrifyingly dangerous farce planned by the archbishop.

  “But at any rate, if we don’t resolve this situation and if the papal officer was genuine, then Heir Hyland’s plans will go to dust. Oh God…”

  Col paced around the room, wondering if there was anything they could do; Myuri spoke up from her spot on the bed, exasperated.

  “Brother, shouldn’t we worry about ourselves before other people?”

  “Of course, but…”

  “Then, how are we going to get out? Under the cover of night? Or knocking out all the guards?”

  Had Myuri’s ears and tail been out, they would have been twitching in excitement. Though it might have also been a sign of her anxiety, it was more likely that she was busy mixing reality and fiction after having read too many adventure stories when they lived at the bathhouse.

  On the other hand, it was true that they had to do something. The most trustworthy connection they could rely on at the moment was their relationship with the Debau Company. As Col thought about how to get a hold of them, he could hear the sound of a latticed door opening somewhere in the connecting hallway. The echoes of many footsteps drew closer. Perhaps they were bringing someone out from another room.

  Col held his breath and looked out onto the hallway, where he saw Hyland surrounded on all sides by soldiers. His hands were still tied in front of him, and the sight was painful.

  “Mm? Oh, wait a second.”

  Hyland noticed the two of them and called out to the guards.

  Then, they all stopped, feigning ignorance as they stepped back.

  “We have lots of allies. It’s too early to give up.”

  He smiled at them through the lattice. But that smile quickly disappeared.

  “Sorry for getting you swept up in all this.”

  “Not at all. But what is going on? I cannot bring myself to believe this accusation of heresy is real. Is this all a show planned by the archbishop?”

  “I want to believe that, too, but according to the soldiers, it’s real. A boat arrived at the port just before we took our break, and the city council was gathered at a moment’s notice. And what we heard was the resulting judgment. The archbishop probably knew beforehand that the papal officer was on the way with the sanction. That was why he was wasting so much time.”

  “B-but arresting you means that the pope…”

  “I realized that as well. It looks like he’s planning to go to war with my country. Next, I will likely be interrogated to reveal all the allies I’ve recruited here on the mainland.”

  Col stared blankly in response, and Hyland closed his eyes. Rather than being afraid of torture, it seemed like he was struggling with shame, enduring the torments of his conscience—or so Col imagined.

  “There’s something I didn’t tell you.”

  When Hyland finished speaking, he looked straight at Col. Perhaps it was dignity as a noble or perhaps just his personality.

  “Our ultimate goal is to create a new church.”

  For the briefest of moments, Col could not believe it. The Kingdom of Winfiel had been lacking proper religious activity for three years. How many people had been praying for God’s intercession during that time?

  Then, after hearing just that one sentence, Col understood the reason for the severity of the pope’s response. If he and the rest of the Church allowed a country as large as the Kingdom of Winfiel to create its own church, then it was not difficult to imagine that others would soon follow suit.

  For the pope, there was no other choice but to strike first.

  “That was somehow leaked to the pope. But luckily for us, he struck the first blow, so we now have an excellent reason to fight back.”

  After Hyland spoke, he slowly dropped to one knee, bowing his head.

  “I am sincerely sorry for not telling you about this. But I had expected we would not be making it public for a while. The pope dispatched a number of cardinals who are currently in the kingdom. I did not think that he would make his move while they were still there. Or perhaps he took advantage of the moment while we had our guard down…”

  Like a spider, the plan had scuttled around and caught them in its web.

  “And since we did not know how much you agreed with our ideas, I couldn’t tell you. I can do nothing but extend my apologies for how it ended up seeming like we deceived you.”

  The bathhouse master and former merchant Lawrence would say that it cost nothing to bow humbly and that doing so as much as possible was the pride of a merchant. Hyland, however, came from the blood of royalty. It was no small thing for such a person to lower his head.

  “Heir Hyland, please stop. I am aware, to an extent, how dangerous it is. But we must think of a way to get out of this situation.”

  Hyland still kept his head down and finally raised it after a while. “I have a request to ask of you in regards to that.”

  “A request?”

  “Yes. But it is something our young miss will most certainly not fancy this time.”

  Col looked away from Hyland’s tired smile, and Myuri was glaring at him with such ferocity. It was the same glare she gave to the girl that invited him into that inn.

  Myuri was consistent in her distrust of Hyland. She was convinced the noble was hiding something.

  That ended up being true, but when Col considered Hyland’s position, he understood why Hyland had acted that way. In the end, Col was nothing but a working boy in the baths of Nyohhira. He was not someone who could be easily trusted with secrets.

  “There is something I must confirm beforehand. The story I told you in Nyohhira has already changed. What we do next will not be something that the pope simply does not care for. To cooperate with me is to join with the Kingdom of Winfiel. You understand what that means, correct?”

  They would no longer be mere critics of the pope’s actions but directly opposing the pope’s authority
itself.

  The pope was the voice of God on earth, and the Church that he ruled over was an institution meant to spread and teach the fundamentals of righteousness to the people of the world. Within that organization, contradictions, corruption, and abuse were rampant. And yet people still frequently went to church, offered donations, and respected their priests. That had continued uninterrupted for over a thousand years.

  Such an unbending world continued to expand, and the past decades bore witness to bloody conflict with the pagans in the northlands. Though the fight petered out indecisively, the war cooled down in a way that could be considered a victory for the Church.

  During that period, a number of countries were destroyed, and rulers had been driven from their lands.

  The Kingdom of Winfiel wanted to battle against such a gigantic organization.

  “It will be dangerous, and probably a long, intense fight. But I want you to imagine.”

  “Ima…gine…?”

  “Yes. With our own hands, we can create a new church—a church where the presiding priests teach from a scripture translated into the common language for all to read. Injustice and abuse will largely decrease. We can sweep away the things that we pretended not to see and things we could do nothing about. That is why I did not call on the high-ranking clergy at the bathhouse, sitting in the baths like overly boiled turnips, but you. We want to create a new world. A world without deception or lies.”

  Other people would question if that was actually possible.

  However, what those people should have done was read the scripture. The original prophets of their religion had thrived in pagan lands filled with even more widespread and twisted teachings than what the current Church represented.

  “And it is not just an ideal. We have a fair chance of winning this fight.”

  Hyland glanced up and down the hall, then drew closer to the latticed door and lowered his voice even more.

  “Our kingdom is an island. It is not easy to send a large army even to the northlands, which is on the mainland. More importantly, we have plentiful fishing grounds and shipbuilding skills. The pope played his hand so quickly because he was afraid we would manage to complete our preparations.”