It was not that he thought to avoid adventure. It was simply that what he carried in his arms was a weighty thing.
If one is going to go on an adventure, they need to lighten their load, and Lawrence had resolved not to cast anything aside.
As he thought about such things, Lawrence put the letter into his pocket and opened the door to the main building.
Upon doing so, the sweet fragrance of soup made with well-boiled milk wafted by.
“It will be a little longer, so wait just a moment, would you?”
When he went into the living room with the fireplace, Holo spoke while peeling the shells off roasted chestnuts.
She had not changed much since he had met her, but he felt like she had grown ever so slightly taller and seemed to be getting a bit rounder.
Or perhaps it was simply an optical illusion, with Holo growing larger only in his own heart.
“You say it as if you’re the one cooking it,” Lawrence said in exasperation, and Holo chuckled.
Her mood seemed good for the moment.
Standing in the kitchen was the woman who handled most of the housework and who was expected to work in the galley, too, once the place was up and running. Hilde had introduced her to them; her name was Hanna, but she probably was not human. Neither Holo nor the lady concerned had filled him in, but since it seemed that the two women got along better with a shared secret, he let the matter be.
Besides, a place with many travelers and vagabonds like Nyohhira was no place to pry too far into someone’s past.
When considering numerous places for where to set up his establishment, he chose Nyohhira partly because it was close to Yoitsu, but he also took that local flavor into account. The sheep incarnate Jung, who had been dealing in paintings for a long time, was of course coming under suspicion by the townspeople because he did not age; by now he had probably gone “missing” while traveling to purchase paintings he had had his eye on. And once the ruckus died down some, he would return as someone with a “close resemblance.”
Here, such methods were easy to pull off; and with similar beings close at hand, Holo would be less lonely for it, even if Lawrence should perish.
Besides, the woman Hilde had introduced as Hanna was a very skilled cook; she also had a keen eye, able to spot edible plants and herbs even on a snowy peak. She seemed more familiar with human society than Holo, so from time to time, she taught Holo sewing, embroidery, and so forth.
But for the time being at least, Holo did not tailor hats or gloves for him like loving wives did for their husbands all over the world. Holo probably enjoyed the sight of him wondering just what in the world she was working on.
“But what are you doing roasting chestnuts like this? Spring’s a little ways off yet.”
“I’m getting sick of salted meat and fish every day.”
“The first year here, you kept saying how salty things were so tasty…”
Holo ate one of the chestnuts she had peeled as she gave him a dour glare. “Too much of a good thing.”
“You should just ask Col to hunt something, then. Apparently he can use a bow now. Seems he took down a deer for Old Man Roz not long ago. If you boil the liver, I hear it’s delicious with ale chilled in the snow.”
As Lawrence spoke, Holo furrowed her brow and drew in her chin. She did not seem very fond of the idea.
It seemed that spending all day at home and eating salted meat and fish every day could put even Holo’s body under the weather.
“I have not had any appetite for that of late.”
“So roasted chestnuts?”
“They’re good when dipped in currant honey, but someone does not seem to buy very much.”
“I’m already under a mountain of debt. Once we’re making money I’ll buy as much as you like.”
Holo seemed displeased as she sighed through her nose and made a soft chestnut shell dance on top of the table.
“But…”
As Lawrence spoke, Holo, deftly cutting into and peeling away a hard shell with a knife, raised her face, glancing at him.
He’d thought to himself many times, I’ll never get tired of looking at that face, and it was truly so.
Looking back at Holo’s red-tinged amber eyes, Lawrence closed his eyelids once, averting his eyes as he spoke. “… Since you’re not feeling well, we need to think a little about what goes on the menu.”
As the hard shell split with an audible snap and the contents fell onto the table, Holo made a bitter smile as she peeled the soft shell off.
“The food you make when I’m ill is only ever distasteful.”
“But it works, doesn’t it?”
“It makes a person think that eating it cannot be borne forever. In that sense, it works very well.” She tossed yet another shelled chestnut into a basket.
As Holo always spoke in this fashion, Lawrence let it roll off and went toward the bedroom. It was not him, but Holo, who finished the thought.
“But if not for that, one would want to be a patient forever.”
Her head was tilted slightly with upturned eyes. When Holo was in ill health, Lawrence would pour all his body and spirit into nursing her. Part of him wanted to nurse Holo because it was the only time she would meekly go along with being pampered.
During the lonely autumn season wedged between the twilight of summer and the start of winter, sometimes Holo clearly faked being ill.
At such times, he would pretend not to notice and nurse her anyway.
It was easy to tell when she was faking being ill, because she would invariably say “thank you” at the end.
“Shall I merely nurse you, then?”
When Lawrence asked, Holo chuckled without replying and returned to peeling chestnut shells. “Thank you,” she finally said to Lawrence’s back as he left the sitting room.
In the end, several days passed without him being able to ask and confirm the true purpose behind Holo’s letter.
He had thought of holding a banquet for those they were close to in advance of the grand opening for some time, after all; questioning Holo for the need for one would have made strange conversation.
Besides, if he asked, she would turn to him with the same smiling face as always and say, “True purpose? It’s to call friends of ours over, is it not?” Once she did, he would be unable to say anything back.
That day, the people who operated bathhouses and stores in the Nyohhira area were holding a council to set common prices for fuel, mainly kindling, yet Lawrence had not been able to pull his mind away from the matter.
But as a newcomer who had not even opened his establishment yet, it was a conversation he could not miss.
Thanks to the suspension of large expeditions here in the north in recent years, the price of fuel had fallen, but this winter’s snows had come unexpectedly early, and heavily, too, which had led to a few quarrels.
The land known as Nyohhira constituted a central town through which passed a road many travelers made use of, along with tiny nearby hamlets in the surrounding mountains, which were linked by narrow roads.
The central town contained public paths used by travelers and the less affluent seasonal guests. All those with an abundance of time and money stayed at a specific inn, and each of those inns managed its own bath.
The richer the person, the farther from civilization he wanted to bathe. The owners of bathhouses frequented by archbishops and nobility always stressed that they were late for councils because their bathhouses were in such remote locations.
The owner of one such establishment glanced at Lawrence out of the blue and waved at hand.
“Concerning the rationing of kindling, Mr. Lawrence, don’t you have too much as it is? You’ve been buying lumber from me since autumn rolled around.”
The eyes of all those at the long table fell upon Lawrence.
In Nyohhira, anyone who discovered a hot spring essentially had the right to open a business there, so those who had done so were crafty and willing
to accept risk.
The glares from a group of such men had quite a bit of force to them.
But none of them were as imposing as the least of the Myuri mercenaries, let alone Eve. They did not hold a candle to Holo on a rampage in wolf form. These business owners had a bone to pick with Lawrence because he, having already discovered a hot spring in a remote area where finding one was said to not be possible, made them nervous.
This had been a recurring scene since he had begun constructing his establishment, so Lawrence was quite calm as he replied, “Are you saying I should turn the lumber I bought for construction into kindling? If I was making as much as Master Morris, I might be able to do that, but…”
As Lawrence spoke, a number of people traded smiles and whispered among one another.
At the beginning of autumn, Morris’s bathhouse had suffered a fire, the thing one had to avoid most here in the mountains.
Fortunately, at the time the fire was quickly extinguished, but Lawrence’s words made the face of Morris, standing right before him, turn as bright as any flame. And just as he seemed about to say something, anything, so long as it was shouted, the chairman of the council interrupted.
“The amount of lumber Mr. Lawrence purchased was approved by this council. Following precedent, the rationing of kindling is an unrelated matter. Any questions?”
The chairman was not the only one fed up with Morris’s stubbornness. There were a number of people cool to Lawrence because they preferred to have less competition, but Morris’s unsightly ways had largely swung the group to Lawrence’s favor.
This was also a result of Morris’s attitude that only a man of high status could get customers.
That being the case, it was best to get under his skin just a little.
The secret to group relations was if one gave in at the start, they yielded for all time. A display of humility was more than enough for people to look down upon you. This was something Holo’s acerbic tongue had taught him well.
“Then, I think we should agree to ration kindling in proportion to the rise of its purchasing cost.”
At this time of year, with winter soon to end, with old guests about to leave and few new guests in the offing, it was just the right time for these people to drink some wine and have a relaxing nap as soon as the council concluded.
Nearly all the members raised their right hands in agreement with the chairman; even the ever-complaining Morris reluctantly raised his right hand in the end,
“Very well. The council is adjourned,”
The chairman wrapped things up, and everyone rose from their seats and left the room.
Morris seemed to be aware of the glares in his direction, but Lawrence was entirely unconcerned.
Rather, he realized that he must pose a proportionally dire threat to the man’s bottom line.
At that moment, Lawrence’s establishment was in the running for the first- or second-most remote location in all Nyohhira. Furthermore, he had located a hot spring inside a cave, the sort popular with bathers above all others. Together with Col giving high-ranking clergymen and intellectuals such a warm welcome, the opening of his establishment was seen as a certain success. Lawrence himself thought as much.
If Morris’s position had grown so weak, Lawrence wondered if he ought to borrow more money and buy the man’s establishment outright.
As Lawrence entertained the thought while walking near the public square, he was suddenly struck by a snowball.
Standing in front of the Rogers Company building, founded by expatriates from the Kingdom of Winfiel across the far-off ocean, was not a child playing a prank, but Holo.
“You must be thinking something bad. I can tell from your face.” She smirked at him as she sat on a wooden fence. The business owners just leaving the public assembly stared at Holo; it was rare for her to come down to town like this.
“You do understand that I’m not going to go out on a journey while I’m building something like that, don’t you?”
There were times when Holo turned to the horse that Lawrence had traveled with during his days as a traveling merchant, strictly commanding that should Lawrence look about to set off on a journey, it must utterly refuse to cooperate.
Lawrence thought she probably allowed him to see her doing it on purpose, but he did not really think it was a joke. After all, ever since, he had been unable to mount it, even just to move it a short distance.
“Journeys are not the only adventures.” As Holo spoke, she swayed her body within the extravagant pelt coat, heavily decorated with fur at the edges; the Debau Company had sent it when they learned this was where he would set up his business.
Goodness, Lawrence thought to himself, but it was true that buying Morris out would create no small disturbance. “You’re in no mood for an adventure?”
As Lawrence spoke, Holo casually let out a white breath, making a smile rich in meaning. “Let us just say my hands are full at the moment.”
Lawrence sighed, shrugged his shoulders, and took Holo’s hand.
He had had no idea what Holo had gone outside for without gloves on, but it seemed to be so that she could thrust her hand into Lawrence’s glove.
It was, of course, rather odd for there to be two hands in one glove.
“People will laugh when they see.”
“Let them laugh. It only means they are jealous.”
Holo spoke casually as she marched over the snow. She thrust her remaining hand into her coat, looking like the perfect maiden.
“What did you come all the way down here for, though? I said I’d be back early today, didn’t I?”
There were times when her nose twitching was an indicator she was about to start crying.
Today, though, she seemed to be just sniffing the springs out for the moment. Lawrence could not tell whatsoever, but apparently hot baths had subtle differences in smell depending on the place.
Since she could also tell the size and temperature of the spring, a severe problem for many – unearthing a new hot spring in the area for setting up an establishment – was no more difficult for her than twisting a baby’s arm.
Searching at night a bit in her wolf form, it had taken her but two days to find one.
Lawrence’s only expenses were honey-preserved fruit and occasionally lending out the spring to the deer and bears whose territory encompassed this area.
It was not difficult work, for though the hot spring was in a cave, Holo’s ears, able to discern even the purity of a silver coin, searched for sounds of water, and she was easily able to remove boulders that seemed unmovable by human means.
There were old stories that if one trapped a fairy in a bottle and fed it a sweet, it would lead a person all the way to a vein of gold. This was not far from that, though unlike the stories, if one opened the lid of this bottle, the fairy would not run off.
As the two walked through Nyohhira’s central town without a word between them, Lawrence stole glances at the side of Holo’s face, as if confirming his good fortune.
“Hanna went to pluck some herbs.” Holo looked in another direction as she spoke.
Her gaze led to a public bath where mercenaries, travelers, and hunters from nearby, who had come in to sell the meat and pelts from the game they had felled, were drinking and relaxing together. There was also sunny music being played as an apparent competition unfolded, with men, still buck naked from their time in the bath, boasting to one another about their scars.
As Holo was staring at them with very little restraint, several men raised both hands and cried out something or other to her as they noticed.
Holo, quite fond of pranks, turned her face away like a bashful maiden, chuckling as she listened to the men’s boisterous cheer.
“So?”
When Lawrence made an exasperated laugh and prompted her, Holo turned back to the men once more and made a small wave of her hand. “Aye. After you left, someone called for the lad and he went out, too.”
“So you got
lonely?”
Even though she was stubborn in odd places, she was oddly pleased as he posed his question.
As if no longer paying one shred of attention to the noisy men of the bathhouse, she clung to Lawrence’s arm and swayed her tail about. “I procured wine as well.”
The way she said it was rich with meaning, but as Lawrence looked down at Holo, he sighed again. Lately he felt like he was getting older; no doubt that was because the number of his sighs had increased.
“No doubt that’s what you were really after.”
“Heh-heh.” Holo curled her lips as she smiled.
As Lawrence lightly looked around the area, he embraced Holo tightly, as if her feet were floating up to the heavens, and walked forward once more.
Afterward, he sent for a sleigh to take them out of town, and they returned home together.
It went without her saying – of course she had procured wine.
As Lawrence peeked into the kitchen, there was already a platter of pork sausages and cured meat.
As Hanna was a very frugal person who would have never dreamt of such things. Holo had no doubt twisted her arm into making it.
“Honestly…” As he ate one slice of the thickly sliced pork sausage, Lawrence took a plate out of a nearby cabinet and put sweet, dried fruit on it, carrying it along with pitchers for both wine and mead.
Once it felt like he had enjoyed alcohol in proportion to its volume, but he had taken a liking to sweet things like mead of late. Sweet alcohol was not something a person gulped down in order to get drunk. He was glad it meant one needed fewer snacks.
But perhaps because he had let his guard down like that, his girth had grown larger of late, which Holo had pointed out to him. Though that put him one step closer to being a portly town shopkeeper, he had to smile wryly at how his journeys were finally over.
“Huh?” As Lawrence left the building and headed out down the road, there was a large brown bear sitting there. It had a scar on its right shoulder inflicted by a hunter; it seemed to specialize in finding bee hives. This year it had apparently failed to hibernate and appeared at the hot springs here and there. Its fur was all drenched, steam rising from it, as if it had emerged from a hot spring just a moment before.
Spice & Wolf Omnibus Page 307
