Spice & Wolf Omnibus

by Isuna Hasekura

  Betting on that possibility certainly was an option.

  When Kieman’s plans became public, he would certainly be considered the ringleader. Lawrence was merely a poor traveling merchant he’d used. Lawrence surely had comrades who would support him as such.

  “…”

  Wilting with despair, Col wasn’t even bothering to dry his tears.

  The boy had journeyed south in an attempt to save his own village. To do that would have taken not just firm resolve and strength, but also greater kindness as well.

  Eve had looked at Col as though he shone, and it was that light that caused her to treat him so kindly.

  “There are many options we can choose, but only one outcome can result.”

  “Should we not then decide the outcome we want and make our choices thereby?”

  Travelers sometimes had to leave behind belongings and opportunities and even friends or injured people they encountered by the roadside. Sometimes they pulled at one’s hair or clung to one’s clothes.

  So what of Eve?

  Lawrence thought back to her strange honesty – she had said she was tired and slept, lying down right there on the spot.

  He could guess at what would happen.

  There were always infinite choices, but there could only ever be a single result. Dramatic turnarounds were uncommon, because the natural progression of events was a difficult force to resist.

  “If Reynolds were handling shipments of gold coins…”

  “Hmm?”

  “… Using the method Col discovered, he could’ve put aside quite a lot of capital.”

  Lawrence had once been attacked by a pack of wolves on a snowy mountain. He and his party had had to leave a friend with a broken leg behind and escape into a woodcutter’s cabin. Unable to stay quiet, they had chattered the night away, faces flushed as though they’d been drinking, yet there was no wine.

  “Taxes are no more than twenty or thirty percent of the value of the goods. Still, twenty percent of a crate of gold coins is a huge amount of money. Of course, the coin counts are much stricter for gold, so he couldn’t have used the same method, I don’t think.”

  Lawrence held Col’s shoulders, and with his eyes gestured for Holo to start walking. If they were going to flee, they would need to take advantage of the chaos.

  “Hmm. The scheme Col noticed – ’twould work better the other way, I should think.”

  “The other way?” Lawrence asked.

  Holo stepped over a stick that was leaning against a wall. “Aye,” she answered. “He brings in sixty crates, then sends along fifty-eight. If he keeps two full crates of copper coins, that’s quite a bit of profit, is it not?”

  “Yes, true. Or he could receive sixty and send sixty along.”

  “But that would just amount to breaking even, would it not?”

  “Oh? The crates he’d send along would simply contain fewer coins than the ones he receives down the river, and he’d pocket the difference. At that rate I’ll bet he could put aside a bit more than two crates’ worth every time. Of course, in doing so the Debau Company would take a loss.”

  So how would that work? Lawrence wondered to himself.

  “Huh?” Col said hastily, looking up at them.

  The only reason Lawrence was not surprised by this was because he was too preoccupied with the hole he had just discovered in his reasoning.

  “I just said something odd, didn’t I?”

  Holo looked back and forth between Col and Lawrence quizzically.

  Lawrence thought back to his own words. Frantically.

  Reynolds’s copper coin-importing scheme would yield only a small profit. To make a large profit, he would have to hit either the Debau Company or the Winfiel kingdom with a significant loss.

  “The absolute number of copper coins won’t change. What changes is the number of crates, the tax, and… and?” The last word stuck in Lawrence’s throat out of sheer frustration as he knew he was missing something obvious.

  Col was almost gagging, as though he had a fish bone caught in his throat. By the time Lawrence realized it was Col’s sheer nervousness that was stopping him from speaking, the answer exploded into his head with a flash.

  “The payment! If he can’t reverse the money he’s trading, he just does it with the payment itself! The Debau Company wouldn’t be troubled at all! Because–”

  “–If the accounts all balance in the end, there’s no problem. No problem at all! I wonder what instructions have come downriver to Reynolds? That would explain why he could have a huge amount of cash somewhere yet hesitate to use it! That’s it!”

  Everything he had seen and heard in Kerube finally connected as though by a single thread. It explained how Reynolds had been able to prepare enough money to buy the narwhal as well as all the incongruities Lawrence had felt.

  The money was Reynolds’s.

  Even if he did have someone backing him, they were far, far away. They wouldn’t have a single notion of what was happening in Kerube. By the time word reached them, everything would be over, which was exactly why Reynolds was placing his pawns in the church.

  If he could gain just cause, all would be forgiven.

  It wasn’t amusing, but Lawrence couldn’t stop the smile that spread over his face. He wasn’t going to let Reynolds snatch all the profit away before his very eyes.

  Everything was within his reach. And the time to grasp it was now!

  “Let’s go,” said Lawrence and started running. “Come, what are you–” He looked over his shoulder and called out.

  “I am not going,” said Holo, standing and smiling.

  “Now of all times? It’s fine! I’m not jumping to conclusions – the reasoning is true.”

  Holo shook her head. “’Tis not what I mean,” she said.

  “So–” What? Lawrence didn’t finish his sentence.

  “I’ve no wish to see you parading about in front of other females,” said Holo like a bashful maiden, sticking her tongue out as she smiled.

  Where had she learned to act like that?

  Lawrence could only smile, as she wanted him to.

  “I suppose I can’t say I’m shocked.”

  “Mm. You can leave me behind and run off, can’t you?”

  Lawrence closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Eve’s words had been heavy with meaning.

  Mere flowers would not be enough of a present for Holo.

  “Col.”

  “Yes! Leave it to me!” Col’s tear-streaked smile was genuine. If he had to leave Holo in someone else’s care and feel security rather than jealousy, Col was the only person he had.

  “Heh. I suppose ’tis not such a poor arrangement.” Holo smiled and exhaled a short sigh. “Now then, you should go. They may be strutting around as though ’tis a festival day, but they’ll arrive soon.”

  Understanding her meaning, Lawrence turned on his heel and ran, though he knew it was dangerous to turn his back on someone in an alley. He looked over his shoulder.

  There were Holo and Col, waving at him.

  A moment’s glance was enough. Lawrence ran. He ran to the church.

  Emerging from an alleyway in front of the church, Lawrence found it to be oddly busy.

  Once the curtain of night fell, ordinary citizens would be in their homes, smacking their lips over dinner. The only ones who knew about what was transpiring here were merchants, compelled by their curiosity to watch, but swirling about at a safe distance away, out of fear of the possible consequences.

  Which meant the space in front of the church was clear, as the crowd waited for the arrival of Reynolds and his cohorts.

  It was indeed the calm before the storm.

  And in that calm, Lawrence walked straight up the open path and made directly for the church.

  “…”

  At first neither the guards nor the onlookers understood what was happening. They seemed to think he was some sort of formal messenger.

  All eyes were on Lawrence, but
no one moved, and it was only as he went to enter the church that a single guard finally shouted at him from behind.

  But Lawrence did not, of course, stop.

  The door was already wide-open in anticipation of Reynolds’s arrival, and once within it, he turned immediately right, heading down the hallway.

  Farther in he saw what he thought were letters dropped in midcarry, illuminated by the candles in the walls.

  The door to Kieman’s room was half-open. Lawrence pushed unhesitatingly past it and went inside, but no one was there.

  Suddenly attacked by a wave of vertigo, Lawrence realized how quickly events were moving. Please let me be in time, he cried out in his mind, running to the stairs that led into the cellar.

  He saw a faint light from farther down.

  Someone had to be there, but the silence worried him. He started descending the stairs, hoping against hope.

  Then, perhaps having heard his footsteps, a man emerged and started coming up. His clothes had blood on them, the sight of which made the hairs on Lawrence’s body stand up.

  “Y-you–”

  The man was shorter than Lawrence and the stairs were steep, and Lawrence used both of these to their full advantage. He dug his nails into the man’s face, then with a dull thud slammed his head against the wall. The man then slid to the floor.

  In his hand was a silver dagger, which Lawrence hadn’t noticed before.

  Lawrence kept running, pushing the iron cellar door open and bounding in.

  At the sight that greeted him, he shouted with all his might. “Please, stop!”

  All but one flinched in surprise.

  Kieman was the first to turn around, then the man who had guarded the room. Eve’s head was held fast by the man’s thick arms, a blank expression on her face.

  Her arms were bound behind her, her legs tied; perhaps they wanted to avoid a struggle. Perhaps they had chosen not to slit her throat because of the bloody mess that would result.

  “Please, wait! There’s no need for this!”

  The guard’s eyes went to Kieman, and Lawrence could tell his grip loosened slightly.

  Eve wasn’t dead yet.

  Just as Lawrence came to this realization, Kieman came at him, his face blank and his hair wild. “Who put you to this?! Who paid you off?! Tell me, merchant!”

  Kieman’s composure was gone, and when he grabbed Lawrence’s collar, Lawrence saw that his thumbnail was chewed ragged. But Kieman was not his enemy, not now.

  Lawrence lowered his stance and let Kieman’s energy take him over, grabbing his waist and flipping him end to end.

  Kieman saw the floor and ceiling trade places in an instant. “Guh–” he croaked like a frog, struggling under Lawrence’s weight.

  “You’ve got to release Eve! Immediately!” Lawrence said, straddling Kieman and holding a dagger to his throat.

  The guard had no grudge with Eve but was probably not unfamiliar with the grisly business at hand. Now Lawrence just had to wait for him to decide what he would do. Lawrence never took his eyes off Kieman for a moment, and eventually the guard decided that a turnaround was impossible.

  In the corner of his vision, Lawrence saw the man release Eve, raising both hands lightly.

  “Is she breathing?” Lawrence asked.

  “She should just be unconscious,” came the answer.

  It wasn’t hard for someone experienced with strangulation to first render an opponent unconscious before taking his or her life. How long the flame of one’s life stayed lit was up to the individual.

  “Mer… chant… you–” Whether he was finally coming back to reality or the difficulty he was having breathing due to the weight on his back was calming him down, Kieman’s voice was strained, and he glared at Lawrence out of the corner of one eye.

  “If Eve’s alive, I have some welcome news for you.”

  “What do you mean?” The guard slapped Eve’s face, and she immediately uttered a short groan.

  She wasn’t dead. Lawrence was genuinely surprised at how relieved he felt to know that someone who had once tried to kill him was still alive.

  Kieman seemed to still be suffering, probably because he could hear the sound of a large number of people entering the church. It was only a matter of time before they were found and Eve was brought to Reynolds.

  “Mr. Reynolds managed to raise the money on his own.”

  “That can’t be!” Kieman nearly tried to jump to his feet, despite the knife at his throat – that’s how shocking the news was.

  And yet it was true. It was the only possibility.

  “I’m a mere traveling merchant, so I’ve got my hands full trying to turn my own profit. My interests are opposed to Reynolds’s, so I can’t let him take everything.”

  Kieman wore a dubious expression, which wasn’t surprising – he didn’t understand.

  Lawrence turned his gaze away from Kieman and directed it at Eve.

  “… What… have you found…?”

  It was Eve’s hoarse voice that spoke up, as she righted herself with the guard’s help. Despite having just been on the verge of death, that was her first question.

  “I came here in pursuit of the wolf bones, you see.”

  And Lawrence told them everything he knew. Both Kieman and Eve were even more capable than Lawrence was at telling lies from truth. And then–

  “Please get off me, Mr. Lawrence,” said Kieman quietly, looking up at the ceiling.

  Eve smiled faintly.

  Lawrence did as he was requested, since both of them were merchants of higher status than him.

  “Can it be done?” Lawrence sheathed his dagger as Kieman coughed and sat up, tidying his hair and straightening his collar.

  “It must be. Of course–” Kieman’s gaze fixed upon the person whose life he had very nearly taken, and he continued smoothly. “That is assuming she doesn’t betray us.”

  “Well, there’s a chance to make some money.”

  Eve opened and closed her hand, making a show of rubbing her neck.

  “God’s face looked sort of like the old man’s. I’ll have to make sure next time I see him.”

  “We’ll just have to make enough to pay for the trip to heaven.”

  Once they started moving, they would work quickly. Lawrence knew he could depend on their abilities, since he still remembered how terrified he was when those same abilities were directed at him.

  Eve spoke in a reverent voice, befitting someone who had come back to life in a church. “Ah, it’s true, we merchants are a mad and sinful lot.”

  The group that entered the church was a strange one. Reynolds was at its head, followed by a series of retainers that deferentially carried small boxes, which were probably packed with gold coins.

  It looked almost like a bride accompanied by her dowry, but what he’d brought into the holy sanctuary were gold coins whose shine defied the glory of God.

  From their size, the boxes looked to contain perhaps one hundred coins. And there were fifteen boxes. They had been stacked ostentatiously in front of the narwhal, which in turn was in front of the altar, and before it all stood a proud, boastful Reynolds. He had placed himself where normally only a priest or bishop would stand, and in the pews for the faithful congregation the powerful southerners were assembled.

  For merchants as successful as Reynolds, deals valuing thousands of gold coins were not rare. But when they were conducted by movement of physical coins, that was another matter entirely.

  Merchants conducted business with verbal and written contracts because hard coin was as rare and valuable as any treasure. And when a large amount of coin was collected in one place, word would always get out. And when those coins were gold, it would always wind up recorded in the money changers’ ledgers. So it was hardly surprising to see so many praying figures in the pews, faintly illuminated by the dim candlelight.

  Reynolds’s attack had been perfectly executed.

  “Come! In answer to your request, I have bro
ught my gold to this holy place! You must fulfill your part of the contract!”

  His belly was large, his cheeks jowly. Back in his shabby little trading house, those features had made him seem equally shabby, but now they were signifiers of dignity and power. His voice carried loud and high, like a stage performer giving the performance of his life.

  “As the second master of the Jean Company, I have come to record a trade that will go down in our history!”

  With a splash the narwhal stirred, perhaps reacting to his voice or the tense air in the sanctuary. And then the room fell quiet, as though water had indeed been spilled upon it.

  Lawrence moved away from where he had been watching the proceedings through a cracked door in the hallway and returned to the candlelit room.

  Immediately after Reynolds had led his procession to the church, a man claiming to be one of Chief Jeeta’s subordinates came for Kieman, but Kieman had sent him off without a moment’s hesitation. Whether or not the plan succeeded, he would be held responsible, and if it did succeed, Chief Jeeta would have to stay silent.

  Of course, Lawrence wasn’t a bit worried. Kieman and Eve had prepared a sharp-edged weapon with which to impale Reynolds.

  Lawrence wondered if there was a merchant in the world who could face their combined anger and emerge unhurt.

  He thought of Reynolds, proudly strutting around the altar, and couldn’t help but feel a bit bad for him.

  “That’s everything I can think of, I believe.”

  “With taxes, shipping fees, and hush money, I suppose that will about suffice. I’ve seen the Debau Company, and they should be able to hide something of this scale.”

  Between Kieman’s pen dancing over parchment and tallying figures and Eve’s top-to-bottom knowledge of trade routes, it was easy for them to work out the dealings of a single trading company. For a traveling merchant who went about with his cart and horse buying and selling goods as he went, it was a terrifying sight.

  “Mr. Lawrence, how’s the sanctuary?”

  “As we expected. Reynolds is being relentless, but naturally the southerners can’t respond immediately. That should give us some time.”