Lawrence softly echoed her words back, as if trying not to frighten a wild rabbit that had drawn near.
“The Myuri mercenaries, you ask?”
“… Aye.”
Holo gazed at the bonfire while she gnawed on a wooden spoon.
No doubt Holo had wanted to ask him about this earlier, but thanks to the strange atmosphere between her and Lawrence, she had not managed to get the words out.
Lawrence cleared his throat and strived to answer per usual.
“I wasn’t able to gather all that much.”
Holo made no reply to Lawrence’s words, save a faint nod.
“At most it numbers about forty people, making it a quite small mercenary company. According to the guild in Delink, they expected to deploy at the fringes of Yoitsu. By historical standards, the current captain is still very young. Also, its flag is a wolf howling toward the sky.”
“Aye.”
Holo nodded as if thinking of something.
Lawrence chewed on some rice gruel with chicken broth mixed into it.
This was completely different from hearing the name of her old pack mate from her homeland again in some old book or half-forgotten legend. It was a name remaining with those who lived, who could be seen and touched.
Surely she had more worries and doubts than hopes.
Perhaps they had been a larger factor in why she had not spoken very much than the sense of distance and so on she had put between her and Lawrence.
Lawrence would have conveyed a number of things to her if he could, but he could not tell her what he did not know. Even so, he had a responsibility to cheer up a traveling companion sitting and eating in silence.
As she crunched something hard like cartilage and washed it down, Lawrence spoke.
“Ah, and also.”
“Aye?” Holo raised her face from her bowl, looking up at Lawrence somewhat expectantly.
“It seems the captain is particularly skilled and daring.”
He thought that anyone would want someone bearing the name of a pack mate from her homeland to hear that.
However, one did not have to be Holo to see through the transparent flattery all too clearly.
A seemingly grateful smile began to form on Holo’s face but settled into a bittersweet one.
Then Lawrence added this immediately afterward: “And he would seem to be as handsome as I am.”
As if on purpose, he rubbed his chin as he spoke. Rather than a flat-out lie, this was actually a joke Eringin of the Delink Company had made.
Holo’s eating hand came to a stop as she looked at Lawrence once again. It was plain on her face that she did not know what to say to that.
However, as her shock waned, what remained were vaguely happy-looking ears and a swaying tail. As Holo watched Lawrence playing the fool, she shifted her gaze away every so often, thinking something over.
Finally, Holo gave a large sigh while scratching the base of her ear, making a seemingly exhausted smile as she spoke.
“Hmph. Fear not. Myuri had the plainer looks of the two of you.”
“Good to know.”
She had replied, but all she was doing was answering his words. Perhaps this would not work.
As if on purpose, Lawrence’s smile seemed to conceal uncertainty as Holo continued to speak.
“What, did you think I would choose based on appearance alone?”
She had bit.
Lawrence replied immediately.
“Not at all.”
“Were I to, I would choose Col before the likes of you.”
She spoke with a blunt expression on her face as she sipped her rice gruel. However, she did not cut off her words there.
“If not him, then… who was that young man in that town who had his heart set on me again?”
“… Amati, eh…?”
“Aye. That is the one. I would choose him, then.”
Now that she had climbed aboard an obvious joke, he of course did not know just how serious she was being.
But, he thought, she was at least somewhat serious. Rummaging through his own memories, Lawrence could not recall a single time she had praised his looks.
Even so, when he was a penniless mud-covered beginner, he had been at his happiest when his trading partner disregarded his dirty outside appearance, properly trusting what was on the inside, and furthermore, sending work in his direction. That was the kind of person whose trust he most wanted to repay, whose expectations he most wished to respond to.
That is why Lawrence was happy at Holo’s words.
And making oneself and the other party happy was the foundation of trade.
“Well, I wouldn’t choose you for your face ei… th…”
Holo looked at Lawrence with a broad grin.
Lawrence closed his mouth before finishing the thought.
“None can claim I am anything but fetching.”
Certainly, just from looking at her face, one would think she was an angel.
But that was not what Lawrence had wished to say. Surely that had not slipped past Holo, and she had said what she did knowing that full well.
Even if Lawrence thought it underhanded, he was happy to see Holo looking like herself after so long. “I suppose that’s true,” he said.
Holo made a look of astonishment, which changed to a pleasant smile as she chuckled.
“So, shall we truly meet them in Lesko, I wonder?”
Holo was muttering as she used a basin to wash herself with water scooped out of a river, just as the sun was setting. Thanks to the bonfire, one could not even squint to see the flow of the river at the moment, but the river was certainly full and flowing.
People had many such rivers flowing inside them. The wise laid down bridges before their feet were swept away.
“If we don’t meet them there, we’ll just have more fun going to find them.”
Lawrence had to return to his trade route and thus had very little time remaining to him. If they were unable to find the mercenaries in either Lesko or, failing that, midway along the way to Yoitsu, another journey to search for them was virtually impossible.
Holo knew all this. Even so, Lawrence’s words seemed to tickle her ears. Holo arched her neck back, using a stick to dig hot embers out of the bonfire, smiling as she spoke.
“Aye. The more fun the better.”
“Well, chances are we’ll meet them without any trouble.”
He said it like that was something any wisewolf should understand.
Holo glanced at him and smiled with the chagrin that he had gotten her this time.
She separated the largest embers from the others for replacing the spent ones in the pocket heater.
“Just think of all the fun you would have if I became angry and ran off and you went searching for me.”
She scattered the ashes, stuffed the embers into triple-woven hemp sacks, and pulled the openings shut.
Watching her do so as if strangling his own neck wiped the smile off Lawrence’s face. Even so, he could not just let her have the last word.
“I’m sure it would be fun. I’d find you driven to tears by an empty stomach, after all.”
Her ears reacted with a twitch, but Holo was not foolish enough to let herself become angry at that point.
As one chuckled and the other laughed, neither giving an inch, the night grew late.
Atop the wagon’s baggage, both held their ember-filled sacks to their bellies, facing away from each other as they went to sleep.
However, even with their backs turned to each other, their breathing matched perfectly.
He thought it had probably been harder to sleep when their breathing had not been thus synchronized.
It would be less than three days until they reached Lesko, where the Debau Company was. He wondered how long it would take them to reach Yoitsu after that.
At the very least, he knew that this night, spent fearlessly hurling insults at each other, had been the most carefree night of all.
>
He knew they were getting close to Lesko, even without relying on the number of footprints left in the snow on the white-dyed steppe. A stronger indicator was the sudden increase in the number of merchants on the road.
Many of them enveloped themselves in coarse wool, their faces darkened beyond recognition from grime and snow burn. From the manner of their appearance, these were not the ones doing business in a lively town, but rather those who transported the bare necessities of life to the harshest of climes.
Of course, there were also merchants who seemed to be engaged in more profitable commerce, in single file, cargo loaded to the brim. However, even they were not using horse-drawn wagons, accustomed as they were to navigating treacherous paths; they employed tough-hided mules, each loaded down with a mountain of baggage.
Lesko seemed to be summoning mercenary groups and was even gathering noblemen from all over the northlands. Given this, Lawrence had been certain the path would have a more foreboding atmosphere. But there was no such impression given. The road seemed to have been recently constructed, and while sturdy, it did not have the feel of a road rushed for the advance of an army. He had been prepared to count on Holo’s ears and intuition if he must, but the highway had no trace of an atmosphere of unrest.
If it was full of something, it was a liveliness just under the surface.
The road gave off the sense that it led to a town with profitable trade where money could be made, and Lawrence, being a merchant, drank it up.
A rural town in the north where some unrest was arising – that was what he had expected from the town of Lesko. And yet.
“’Twould seem they are high in spirits.” Perhaps because she anticipated possibly meeting Myuri, Holo had tossed and turned more than slept over the last few days; her voice was a little off-key as she spoke. “And in a different direction than expected at that.”
Everyone thought that the Debau Company, backed by its financial clout from the vast mining belt it possessed, was invading the northlands. Merchants usually kept far away from war, so surely, those merchants flocking here were slightly crazed, eyes only on turning their fortunes around.
“Mmm, we’ll find out when we get there soon enough.”
Having come this far, that was all he could say. He gripped the reins, urging the horse to trot faster than usual.
Beside him, Holo nodded, looking unable to calm down.
Whatever the case with him, Holo was feeling stress at the possibility of meeting a comrade she had not seen in centuries. It was at times like these that he had to keep himself together.
Thinking this, Lawrence wondered what he could do about it, what words he could say to her, what small talk he could use to distract her.
But as his intention would be all too clear either way, he could not think of anything good to say.
He was well aware that outside of commerce, his way of speaking was simple and rustic.
That was why, even with the incident in Lenos in the back of his mind, Lawrence did what he could.
Taking a deep breath, he reached out beside him with his gloved hand and took Holo’s hand. He held it as if to say, “Don’t worry.” Of course, Holo looked at him as if startled, and then gave her hand a good, long look as Lawrence held it. For his part, Lawrence desperately kept his gaze ahead, half expecting to be slugged at any moment.
However, Holo did not move. They spent a while like this, which was very awkward and difficult for him.
Perhaps he was simply projecting his own insecurities onto Holo. She was not the weak girl her appearance would suggest, after all.
Even so, Holo grasped Lawrence’s hand back.
This was the belly of the Debau Company’s vast mining belt holdings.
Even Kieman, branch manager of the Rowen Trade Guild in Kerube, had told Lawrence not to meddle with the giant company.
Down the road, the town of Lesko came into sight.
Here inside the town, in the middle of the street, Lawrence was in complete shock.
No matter what he said, no matter how many times he looked around, it was true.
In the first place, there were no walls. While thinking they were not quite there yet, he had somehow found himself inside the town.
Furthermore, he had convinced himself that this being a mining company, there must be mines nearby, but he had been mistaken. Certainly the mountains were but a short distance away, but Lesko bore no sign of the cramped, boisterous atmosphere that all mining towns shared.
And finally, the town was certainly not small. If anything, it was huge.
There were numerous grand buildings, and it seemed like half the surface of the ground had been sliced away only to have paving stones inserted in its place. Thanks to this, people and wagons made peculiar sounds as they came and went. It must have taken years of work to plant and maintain whole trees on the side of the road like this. How did they raise money for such expenses without walls? And all the roads were well maintained, even the little-trafficked inner streets.
Furthermore, the residents’ faces were full of life, without one shred of thought that a war was about to break out. Or that if one was, it was already won.
“Are we truly in the right place…?”
He understood quite well the feeling that made Holo ask him this.
Amalgamating all the stories they had heard so far, this was a mining town steeped in sin where the greedy among the northlands huddled together in secret, avarice-filled conferences, scheming as to how to plunge the land into fear and mayhem.
But was that really the case?
The sales booths that lined the streets were overflowing with customers; alongside them were musicians, bards, clowns, and other attractions, drawing many people all around them.
There were more dangerous sorts as well. However, rather than uniformly bearing crude pikes and so forth, they spent their daylight hours playing cards, drinking wine, and so forth at taverns catering to travelers. There were clergymen loitering about as well, but as they all seemed rather well dressed, they gave off no sense of launching some sort of austere religious mission.
What was going on here?
Lawrence went as far as a lesser frequented street before temporarily stopping the wagon.
“Seems rather enjoyable,” Holo muttered. “’Twould seem we were fools to have been worried so over this.”
He did not want to accept that, but she had a point.
There was still a possibility, though, that this was only the surface.
“What do you wish to do?”
As Holo asked that, Lawrence mentally regrouped.
“It goes without saying. We’ll do what we came here for. Right?”
Perhaps because he spoke with such deliberate effort, Holo widened her eyes a bit before chuckling and nodded.
Lawrence headed toward an inn that he had learned of beforehand, thanks to the letter Philon, the trader from the Delink Company who specialized in dealing with mercenaries, had given him. It was here that the entirety of the Myuri Mercenary Company, which had long done business with the Delink Company, was quartered. As a small mercenary company with no idea when or where some ruler or armed group might come raiding, it positioned itself where it could be informed of such details by its business partner.
And if that business partner felt the need to do continuing business, political or financial support would be forthcoming, it seemed.
Beyond that, an organization that handled slaves like the Delink Company was naturally able to glean information from influential organizations more easily. Introducing yourself to your potential next employer was just part of doing business. Even for mercenary companies seemingly living on the edge, the leadership side of the coin was little different from being a merchant.
The town was large and bustling, but perhaps because of the lack of walls, the buildings had a comfortable width to them.
Even at the inn, which they reached while making inquiries of people along the road to it, the bar
n was so thoroughly stuffed with wagons bearing the mercenary company’s baggage that there was barely any space left at all. But it was the fact the doors at the entrance had small panes of glass embedded in it that truly established that this was no ordinary land.
When Lawrence showed a young man acting in the role of a guide that he had business at the inn, the latter barely questioned it as he took the reins of the horse. Perhaps many people came and went like this, or perhaps it was too obvious to be worth noticing.
Lawrence hesitated for several moments after handing the wagon over, but with Holo already under stress, he would only add to her worries if he grew timid here.
He got down from the driver’s seat and flicked a tip in a display of ample confidence.
“I’ll take good care of him, sir.”
He was a little older than Col, but his smile, pronunciation, and handling of horses were superb.
He saw from the lad’s hair and eye color that he had not been born here. Lawrence had a feeling he came from somewhere farther to the south.
It was Lawrence’s habit as a merchant to take note of various things when first entering a town. As the atmosphere here was completely contrary to his initial expectations, he was even more motivated to investigate things left and right.
However, at the moment, the top priority was to meet the Myuri Mercenary Company.
Even though it bore the name of one of Holo’s pack mates from her homeland, they could not disregard the possibility it was mere coincidence. After all, the founder of the company may have simply heard about Myuri and thought it a fine name.
To a normal merchant, mercenaries were nothing short of a mortal enemy.
He felt greater tension than when he had been with Philon, the general goods store owner who made catering to mercenaries his specialty.
Holo had been clutching her chest with her right hand the whole time.
“Ready to go in?”
When Lawrence asked, Holo snapped her gaze to him and said, “If you are, aye.”
If she could hurl abuse at him, she would be fine.
Lawrence confirmed that his coat covered the letter and slowly opened the inn’s front door.
When he opened the door, a bell rang that was identical to those hung from the necks of cattle. The first floor had been turned into a tavern, with a number of round tables placed all over. About a third had people sitting at them. Never mind their thick arms and scarred faces – one could instantly tell they were mercenaries from the atmosphere alone.
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