Spice & Wolf Omnibus

by Isuna Hasekura

  It all made perfect sense, but none of it explained why there had been no explanation of any sort. “Is it just that he didn’t explain anything because he can’t trust me?” Lawrence asked, which made Holo smile an unfriendly smile.

  That was not the answer.

  His punishment was having his beard yanked.

  “At the very least, you’ve been brought to the territory of one you cannot be sure is friend or foe, and you have been left to your own devices – so what would you normally do? Aren’t you in the habit of gathering information when you arrive in a new town?”

  Still behind Holo, Col listened to her lecture, fascinated.

  That had to be why she was doing this – if he did not want to be humiliated in front of Col, he was going to have to think hard and fast.

  He did.

  But nothing was coming to mind.

  As he stammered, the wisewolf released his beard and crossed her arms, continuing on.

  “On that count, humans and wolves are no different. You seek the counsel of those you know or those you trust. In other words, you navigate unfamiliar territory using the map within your mind. The minds of humans and beasts cannot be seen, but when they move, those movements make it quite clear what sort of map they possess. Just like my ears and tail or your beard.”

  The beard part was a joke, but he could not help stroking it in thought.

  “So in essence–” Holo said.

  If he could not come up with an answer here, he was quite sure that Holo would take Col in hand and head straight for Yoitsu.

  In the hairsbreadth gap Holo had left after her words, Lawrence slid in and took the opportunity. “He’s trying to see what I’ll do when put in an uncertain situation.”

  “…”

  Holo fell silent for a moment, perhaps having swallowed her rebuke at his slowness to answer. “Quite… Honestly, the only reason to put us all up in such a fine room is–”

  “–To make us sweat.”

  Holo’s shoulders slackened, and she flicked her ears and looked over her shoulder.

  Col, every bit the serious student, gave a slow, wide-eyed nod.

  “So, what then shall we do?”

  Col was momentarily stunned into silence by the sudden question.

  He immediately and furiously started thinking of how to answer, while Holo’s wagging tale made it clear she expected Lawrence to speak up.

  It was like tossing a bone in front of a dog.

  Even though he knew he was being baited, he could not help it.

  She had two males in the palm of her hand and was making them vie with each other for the sheer fun of it.

  “We should act as usual and enjoy the fine treatment.” Lawrence’s words were just an instant quicker – although worryingly, Col had opened his mouth and appeared nearly ready to answer himself.

  Holo looked at Col for a moment, then slowly turned back to regard Lawrence, a smile dancing about the corners of her mouth as if to say, “Not bad.”

  “If we truly mean to support Kieman through and through, then this isn’t enemy territory – it’s our home base, and there’s nothing to fear,” he continued. Holo nodded with satisfaction, her ears flicking, as though she had found the treasure for which she had been searching.

  Lawrence looked past Holo to Col and asked, “Was that what you were going to say?” which made the boy smile, nodding with only a touch of sheepishness.

  “Also, what would you do if the person on whom you’d lain an important duty seemed about to fall under the weight? Could you calmly continue to let them labor, eh?” Holo prodded.

  Thus far, Lawrence had always bought and sold on his own, bearing every risk and worry himself, so the matter had never really occurred to him. The very notion of using someone else was so far from his mind that such thoughts were immediately abandoned.

  As long as it was within his reach, Lawrence was more or less confident in his ability to fight. But there were those in the world who used spears longer than their arms – to say nothing of bows and arrows. And battles were won by generals who never even had to lay hands upon a sword.

  Holo had long been such a leader.

  “When I did such things myself, I nary used such roundabout, bothersome methods.” She grinned, flashing her pure white fangs. “I am Holo. Holo the Wisewolf of Yoitsu!” she said, hands on her hips, chest flung proudly out.

  It had been some time since she had bragged like this, but to be boastful and proud was indeed very Holo-like. And given the admiration with which Col was gazing at her, it was surely just what was called for – since if she were too wise a wolf, she would not be able to indulge in this childish boasting.

  “Now then. What do you suggest we do?”

  Here was Holo’s true aim.

  Lawrence found the words drawn out of him. “We go out and enjoy ourselves.”

  “Mm. As grandly as we may, too.” Holo glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, as if making sure he understood the meaning behind her words.

  It was perhaps a bit pathological of Lawrence to then decide to pretend not to notice this. “In that case, let’s go see the narwhal at the church, shall we?”

  He spoke in a jesting fashion as if to emphasize that it was his proposal.

  Col looked a bit taken aback, though Holo’s surprise was feigned.

  She truly was a genius at turning circumstances to her own advantage.

  “After all, there was quite a crowd on the way over here. If we ask, I’ll bet we’ll be allowed to see it.”

  Lawrence doubted that going to see the narwhal would be seen as a sign of betrayal, regardless of his connection to Eve. If he were truly thinking of betraying Kieman, then there would be no reason to take actions that would attract the guild’s attention.

  Of course, this was all hypothetical – it was possible to imagine any number of layers of hidden motivations.

  “What do you say? Wouldn’t it be boring to just go out for food and drink?”

  Holo was a proud wisewolf, and Lawrence’s proposal was meant to be worthy of her position; yet its form still contained a certain childish innocence – two opposing aspects.

  As a wisewolf, Holo had the confidence to stand before the narwhal. Yet like a child, she was surely interested in just seeing it.

  At least, that was the idea.

  Judging by her delight, he seemed to have hit the bull’s-eye.

  “’Tis not a bad notion, coming from you.”

  From Holo’s lashing tongue, such a statement was like getting full marks on a test.

  Col stood from the bed and busily began preparing to leave.

  They were a strange trio, but here and now, Lawrence could scarcely imagine anything more comforting.

  As expected, when they informed the innkeeper that they wished to view the narwhal, he told them to simply mention Kieman’s name at the church.

  Kieman had unquestionably expected this.

  Lawrence did not care enough to ask Holo to be certain, but once they left the inn, they would probably have several people tailing them.

  The church faced a prominent avenue on the south side of Kerube and was the grandest building there.

  Unlike the buildings on the north side, the architecture of the south had a fixed height and build so as not to stand out or be excessively showy – and among such buildings, the church’s beauty and grandeur was impressive indeed.

  Its tower rose high above any other building, and its top housed a bell polished to shine so brightly that it was easily visible even from the ground below. The grand gate that faced the avenue had thick wooden doors that must have required great effort to open and close and was reinforced with countless iron bands. It could surely repel even the largest army of demons.

  The building itself was made from large stones, with a passage from scriptures carved atop the entrance. A benevolent angel looked down on all who passed through.

  It was a profound sight.

  If one ventured deep
enough into the forest, one might see a great tree that seemed tall enough to reach to the heavens. Such trees were usually the holy residences of local gods or spirits, and standing before one was an awe-inspiring experience.

  But before them now was not some great tree tended by some unfathomable power, but rather a church built by human hands on human land.

  And within it was not some sharp-fanged god but a benevolent God in human form.

  It was true that in comparison to this, the pagans who prayed at waterfalls and springs, worshiped toads, and feared the cries of beasts as the words of the gods seemed worryingly barbaric.

  Even with a wisewolf standing right there beside him, Lawrence could not help but think so.

  If he had not found himself being dragged along by the ear by an irritated Holo, Lawrence would have continued to stand there dumbstruck.

  “Come, let us hurry in.”

  A throng had gathered in front of the church, and listening to them, the group could tell they were abuzz with talk of the narwhal. It seemed the news had gotten out – indeed, no door could contain a wagging tongue.

  But between the assemblage and their goal of paying their respects to the narwhal stood guards armed with spears.

  Lawrence and Col found themselves dragged as far as the entrance by Holo, but where they would begin to ascend the stairs that led to the church, they were stopped by the guards.

  “The church is currently conducting official business. None may enter.”

  Influence was a strange, invisible power indeed.

  “We are from the Rowen Trade Guild. We’ve permission from Mr. Kieman.”

  At those words, the guards exchanged a glance, understanding that trouble would arise if they turned Lawrence away. Reluctantly, they lowered their spears and beckoned entry.

  “My thanks,” said Lawrence with a smile, pulling the still-irritated Holo along as he entered the church.

  Col seemed rather nervous and clutched the sleeve of Holo’s robe as he followed along.

  “It’s quiet.”

  Though it was a church, being built at this scale made it feel more like a castle.

  And while mountain castles were small, dark, shabby affairs with sheep and pigs wandering about the keep, this was a proper city castle.

  Passing through the entrance, they saw a round ceiling painted with a colorful scene from the scriptures, and columns carved in the forms of strange mythological creatures made it clear this place was not of the secular world.

  There were few windows and so many candles – expensive beeswax candles that gave off little smoke in order to avoid damaging the paintings with soot.

  Lawrence looked back and saw the crowd outside straining to see past the guards, who still blocked the entrance.

  If they received special treatment like this all the time, it was little wonder that the Church elite were so high and mighty.

  “It must be farther in,” said Holo, her nose twitching.

  No matter how grand its construction, every church shared the same basic plan.

  The sanctuary should lie straight ahead, and any holy or special objects would be beneath or behind the altar.

  Before Lawrence could say anything, Holo forged ahead. Her footsteps made it seem as though she were being beckoned by something. Then, the moment she reached her hand out to the open, intricately carved door to the sanctuary–

  “Who goes there?” a high voice rang out, and even Holo flinched in surprise.

  But it wasn’t like Holo to be caught unawares. She had simply been very, very focused on what lay ahead – the legendary beast whose flesh granted long life and which she had long ago chased herself.

  “Who goes there? Guards!”

  It was a tall, thin man with a high nose wearing a cream-colored robe.

  A glance at his nervous face would have made it clear to anyone that he was a man of the Church, and his high voice sounded like a strangling chicken.

  “My humble apologies. We were referred here by Lud Kieman of the Rowen Trade Guild.” Lawrence made sure to mention Kieman’s name before speaking his own. “There seems to have been some mistake.”

  No organization was as preoccupied with rules and regulations as the Church. But human connections superseded written rules.

  “What? The Rowen…? Ah, excuse me.” The man calmed himself as quickly as he had angered and waved off the guards that approached from the hall.

  The guards from the entrance barely seemed to notice. Perhaps this sort of thing happened often.

  “Ahem. I am the assistant priest of this church, Sean Natole.”

  “I am Kraft Lawrence of the Rowen Trade Guild.”

  “I’m Holo.”

  “I am Tote Col.”

  Holo had introduced herself with her attention still on what lay past the door, while Col was carefully polite.

  A merchant, a girl dressed like a nun, and a boy in tattered clothes – it was a strange combination, but to someone who had lived nearly his entire life within the Church, almost anything from the secular world was strange.

  The priest did not seem particularly mystified.

  “Is that so? Have you come here to pray, then?”

  When it came to speaking their minds, clergymen were second to none.

  Lawrence quietly cleared his throat. “No, we came here in hopes of being allowed to view the narwhal…”

  “Ah…” The assistant priest, who had introduced himself as Natole, looked them over appraisingly, undoubtedly trying to guess how much of a tithe they would leave. “Even having stated your goal,” continued Natole, cutting off Lawrence’s attempt to respond, “we have yet to determine whether the thing, which has been brought to this church, is good or evil. While it is true that God has made everything that is, this particular creature is so strange that the head priest is currently seeking God’s aid in determining its nature. While an introduction from Mr. Kieman of the Rowen Trade Guild is no small thing…”

  The assistant priest seemed to be accustomed to rambling at length, but Holo’s patience was at its end.

  Having no other choice, Lawrence smiled and approached Natole, reaching inside his coat as he did so. “Actually, Mr. Kieman instructed me to give his regards to Father Natole, God’s faithful servant.” He then took Natole’s hand, and in the same motion, he passed the priest a note.

  “… Be assured that the message is received,” said Natole casually, clearing his throat again. “The creature in question is currently being identified in the sanctuary, but I suppose I could allow you to view it.”

  “You have my sincere gratitude,” said Lawrence by way of exaggerated thanks.

  Natole nodded, not at all displeased, then approached the door by which Holo still stood, unbarring and opening it.

  “As my holy walk is yet incomplete, I am prohibited from gazing upon it myself.” Translation: He was too afraid of anything pagan to look at it. Either that, or he hesitated to enter the sanctuary immediately after having taken a bribe.

  Regardless, Lawrence followed Holo into the sanctuary, a wry smile on his face.

  The smile was not because of the disagreeable priest, though. It was aimed at Holo, who had been so eager to get past the door while it was closed but now hesitated when it was open.

  “Go on,” urged Lawrence quietly, pushing her from behind.

  If she had tried to find the narwhal long ago, that meant there must have been someone to whom she wanted to feed its meat.

  Was it the villager she had met in Pasloe during the centuries she spent there? Or was it someone else, someone whom she had met on her travels?

  But she had failed to obtain the meat, and whoever she had wanted to give it to had died.

  Had she been there when they died? Or had they passed away while she was traveling? Lawrence did not know, but he was quite certain she had not said good-bye with a smile.

  But perhaps her friend had.

  And now Holo was faced with it again, hence her expression.
>
  “… This is…” murmured Col.

  A stone walkway led straight ahead into a room filled with hundreds and hundreds of long, wooden pews.

  Atop the walkway rested a faded carpet as if leading to the very heavens themselves.

  At the end of the path, set in the high far wall, was a giant stained-glass depiction of God flanked by angels singing His praises.

  And beneath that stood an altar where God’s representative would stand and lead the congregation, and beneath that was a large casket.

  They were still far away but could catch glimpses of the strange form within.

  The large casket seemed to be filled with water, and the living legend within it shifted as if having noticed them, causing the water to slosh.

  At the same time, there came the knocking sound of the creature’s horn upon the wood of the container.

  “It’s really there.”

  None of the three of them could take another step.

  Curiosity killed the cat, but a merchant’s curiosity could kill the gods.

  Nevertheless, it was hard to approach.

  Lawrence felt as if he understood how the legend that eating the creature’s flesh granted long life had gotten its start.

  “Shall we get closer?”

  Lawrence placed his hand on Holo’s shoulder, and she looked up at him in surprise.

  “…”

  She then shook her head wordlessly, turning forward again.

  As she stood there blankly gazing at the narwhal, it seemed as if she was saying good-bye to her past.

  “I-is that a god, too?” inquired Col in a small voice. He had been holding on to Holo’s sleeve the entire time and at some point had grabbed ahold of Lawrence’s coat as well.

  “I wonder. What do you think?” Lawrence asked, handing the question over to Holo, who seemed extremely irritated by it.

  Perhaps she did not want such questions to be posed to her, but who else was there who could answer them?

  “At the very least, it is within the realm of normal animals. Anything beyond that has a special scent. But I do not sense that here.”