When he arrived in the rear of the sanctuary, he found Holo crouched down, holding her knees like a scolded child.
“No matter how good your eyes are, you can’t read in the dark.”
She hugged the book, trembling faintly.
Just when Lawrence wondered if she was crying, she looked up slowly. Her face betrayed no hint of weakness.
“Listen, you,” she began. “If I destroy this book in anger, will you make amends?”
She was not jesting. This was much more Holo-like than any tears would be.
Lawrence sighed and shrugged. “I don’t mind paying for it, but don’t tear pages out to dry your eyes.” He felt it was a fairly good line.
Holo grinned, showing her fangs as she looked up. “You’d happily buy my tears at a high price, though. ’Twould be a shame not to cry them.”
“There are many counterfeit gems in the world. I’d hate to purchase a fake.”
It was their usual banter.
They both laughed at the absurdity of it.
“Will you leave me alone for a while to read?” she asked.
“I shall. But tell me your thoughts when you’re finished.”
If possible, Lawrence wanted to be at her side as she read.
Saying so, however, risked her anger.
Worrying about someone was the same as not trusting them.
Holo was a proud wisewolf. Lawrence could plainly see that treating her like a delicate, weeping maiden would bring furious reprisals.
He would worry about her when she called upon him to do so.
Leaving Holo to her reading, he said no more, nor did he look back. Holo took a deep breath as though she had already forgotten his presence.
The next moment, he heard a decisive page flip.
As he walked down the dim hallway, Lawrence tapped his head with his closed fist, trying to think about something else.
Elsa had not given up on trying to restore the village’s position. If the knowledge and experience Lawrence possessed could be of any help, he would lend it.
Also, in the back of his mind, he was searching for the words he would need to persuade Evan to flee with him should the worst come to pass.
“Oh, Mr. Lawrence, aren’t you going to stay with her?” came Evan’s surprised query when Lawrence returned to the room.
Noticing the change in mood, Elsa casually withdrew her hand from Evan’s, wiping the corners of her eyes. Holo was never so sweet.
“Ah, if it would be better for me to be elsewhere, I can go.”
Elsa cleared her throat, and Evan looked blank.
Lawrence wondered if that was what he looked like from the outside, but he didn’t have the luxury of such pointless worries at the moment.
No doubt Elsa, too, would prefer to simply be at Evan’s side, never having to worry about anything.
She soon regained her neutral expression.
“Well, then, how can my knowledge and experience help you?”
“I heard from Elder Sem earlier that if all the wheat is returned, we will be short seventy limar.”
The limar was a gold coin equal to twenty silver trenni pieces, which meant the debt would come to about fourteen hundred trenni.
That was probably equivalent to the amount the town had spent on repairing their tools, laying in provisions for the winter, and on buying food, drink, and luxuries. Generously estimating Tereo’s population at one hundred households, that came to fourteen silver pieces for each one. The village’s farmland was not particularly large—fourteen silver pieces was far too high a figure.
“Even if they collect everything I own, it would be like scattering water on a hot cooking stone. If Enberch is the buyer, they’ll beat the price down as low as they can. All the wheat in my cart would barely go for two hundred silver at best,” said Lawrence.
“That’s not all we lack. We can’t very well eat the seed grain that’s been stored in the granary, so we’ll need to come up with funds to purchase more to eat…,” said Elsa.
“Could we not test the returned wheat for poison by feeding small amounts of it to, say, dogs?” Evan asked.
In the worst case, that would be their only option.
But would the villagers be able to survive mainly on bread from possibly poisoned wheat clear through to the next year’s harvest?
Unlikely.
“Khepas liquor is invisible, and even if you took a handful of safe wheat from a sack, the wheat directly beneath it might well be poisoned.”
Even supposing that Holo could tell poisoned wheat from safe, they would never be able to make the villagers trust her.
They could pick some flour at random and make a loaf of bread, but the next loaf might well be deadly.
“It is not hard to see that this is all Enberch’s doing. And yet we cannot expose them—why? Why is it that the first one to tell a lie receives all the trust?” blurted Elsa, palm against her forehead.
Such things happened in business all the time.
Lawrence had seen any number of scuffles wherein the party to cast the first stone wound up winning.
It was a common saying that while God reveals the model for righteousness, He does not execute its proof.
Elsa’s feeling of powerlessness was understandable.
“Bemoaning our fate will get us nowhere,” said Lawrence.
Elsa nodded, her head still resting in her hand. She looked up and spoke. “True. I can’t very well cry now, my father…Father Franz, he would…would…”
“Elsa!”
Her legs seemed to lose all their strength, and she was about to collapse, but Evan managed to catch her just before she did.
She seemed exhausted, her eyes half-lidded and unfocused. She’d had her hand pressed to her head out of dizziness—anemia, perhaps.
“I’ll fetch Iima,” said Lawrence.
Evan nodded, then lay Elsa down gently, pushing the chair aside.
Elsa had fainted before when Lawrence and Holo had revealed the truth of Holo’s existence.
This leader of a church that no one attended—she was not so different from a god without worshippers.
With neither tithes nor offerings, she had only a poor miller for company.
No matter how the two of them split their meager bread, it would come with intolerable suffering, Lawrence could tell.
He headed to the entrance of the sanctuary where he found Iima planted in a chair. She stood as soon as she noticed Lawrence.
“Miss Elsa has collapsed.”
“Again? Anemia, right? She pushes herself too far, that girl.”
Iima brushed past Lawrence and returned shortly carrying Elsa in her arms, heading for the living room.
Behind them came Evan, holding a candle in one hand, his expression clouded.
“Hey, Mr. Lawrence?”
“Hm?”
“What’s…what’s going to become of us?” asked Evan as he looked blankly toward the living room. He seemed a different person from the Evan of a few moments ago.
Elsa’s collapse had clearly shaken him.
No, that wasn’t it, Lawrence corrected himself.
Evan couldn’t let himself look uncertain in front of Elsa.
Even the stout Elsa had turned to Evan for reassurance as soon as Lawrence was no longer nearby.
And as the one whose reassurance was sought, Evan could not let himself look weak.
But that did not mean he didn’t have fears of his own.
“Elsa keeps saying it can’t be, but the villagers—they all suspect you and me, don’t they?”
Evan did not look at Lawrence.
“That’s right,” Lawrence said, staring off vaguely.
Evan inhaled sharply. “I knew it…”
His face looked almost relieved.
It seemed to Lawrence like an expression of defeat, but suddenly Evan continued. “Still—,” he said, looking up. “Was what you said before true?”
“Which part?”
“I d
idn’t mean to eavesdrop, but…the part about being able to escape.”
“Oh yes. Yes, we can escape.”
Evan looked quickly toward the living room, then back at Lawrence. “With Elsa as well?”
“Yes.”
Evan was used to being the object of suspicion but unused to feeling that emotion himself; he looked uncomfortable.
It was clear that beneath the flames of his doubt was a desire to believe.
“If my companion and I escape alone, the blame will fall upon you and Elsa. It is thus my own selfish wish that if there is to be an escape, I would want to bring both of you with me.”
“That’s not selfish at all! I don’t want to die here. I don’t want to let Elsa die here. If you’ll help us, I want to run. Even Elsa, I’m sure she—” Evan looked down, wiping the corners of his eyes before continuing. “I’m sure she wants to get out of this village. The villagers claim to owe Father Franz a great debt, but they never show a bit of gratitude. They never listened to his teachings, and even when they offered huge sacrifices to the old god of the village, they wouldn’t give so much as a loaf of bread to the church. If it hadn’t been for Elder Sem and Mrs. Iima, we’d have starved to death long ago.”
Evan’s words were heavy and unpremeditated.
It seemed like he had much more to say, and his mouth opened as if to speak. His thoughts could not keep up, though, and no words came.
It was Iima emerging from the living room who interrupted. “The outside world isn’t great, either,” she said, hands on her hips and a weary expression on her face. “But it’s a lot better than this place. I don’t know how many times I’ve tried to tell her.”
“You’ve some experience with the traveling life, don’t you?” asked Lawrence.
“I surely do. You heard my tales at the tavern, didn’t you? I don’t think a person needs to stay in the same town or village her whole life. The villagers’ attitude changed just like that as soon as Father Franz’s health failed, but that girl’s so stubborn. She would’ve wanted to leave long ago, Evan, even without you telling her to.”
Evan turned away, though out of embarrassment or anger it was difficult to say.
“But what’s going on now…it’s a disaster for the village. I’m just as scared about our future as anyone else. But I have to admit that it would be a good chance for this misfit church to finally wash its hands of Tereo.”
Saying the church would “wash its hands” of Tereo was putting a nice face on it. There was no getting around the fact that Elsa and Evan were being chased out. Lawrence hoped that Holo wasn’t listening in on this conversation.
However, he didn’t feel that it made any sense for Elsa and Evan to stay behind just to die together.
“So, if you…er…,” started Iima.
“Lawrence. Kraft Lawrence.”
“Ah, yes, Mr. Lawrence. If you have some way of escaping with them, I think you should. No—I want you to. This place is my home, after all. I don’t want it to have the reputation that would come from putting innocent people to death. It would be too sad.”
The village’s wheat had been poisoned and was going to be returned. How many people would worry about reputation in such a crisis?
“I suppose we’ll need to persuade Elsa.”
Iima nodded at Evan’s statement.
People left their hometowns for many reasons. Some, like Lawrence, cut all ties while others left out of necessity. Still others—Iima, for example—had their homes destroyed.
Holo had left to go traveling for a time and had ended up not returning home for centuries, during which time Yoitsu was destroyed.
Sometimes things went as one wished; other times they did not. Why was the way of the world always thus?
Perhaps it was because they were in a church that Lawrence’s thoughts strayed to such uncharacteristic places.
“I expect everyone will stay quiet until Enberch’s messenger arrives. It would be best to make your preparations and leave by then if you’re leaving,” said Iima.
Sem had said that the messenger would probably arrive around daybreak.
They had some time until then.
Evan nodded and dashed off to the living room.
Lawrence was about to check on Holo when Iima stopped him.
“There’s all this talk of leaving, but exactly how do you plan on escaping?” she asked.
It was a perfectly reasonable question.
Its answer, however, was anything but.
“If one can enter a forest and chance upon a maiden who brews delicious ale, then surely there are other equally mysterious beings in the world?”
Iima was taken aback for a moment, then smiled dubiously. “Don’t tell me you’ve met a fairy.”
It was a gamble.
Lawrence shrugged and gave a vague nod.
Iima laughed heartily. “Ha! Do such things truly happen, I wonder.”
“No doubt the duke who discovered you felt the same way.”
Iima smiled, then touched her cheek thoughtfully. “I certainly heard such stories on my travels, but to think…I gather you speak of your companion?”
The gamble had paid off.
“I cannot very well lie in a church.”
“Quite so. Well, I am but the mistress of the tavern and may as well be drunk the whole year long. All I wish is for this village to be a good one. I’m sorry for holding you up.”
Lawrence shook his head. “Not at all.”
Iima grinned. “I’ve heard tell that to capture a luck fairy in a bottle, you need to use liquor brewed from nectar. It’s liquor that lured me to this village as well.”
“I’ll make sure to use wine next time I’m in trouble,” said Lawrence with a smile as he turned and walked back into the darkness.
Heading toward the back of the sanctuary where he expected to find Holo, he rounded the second corner only to run face-first into a wall.
Or so he thought—but what now appeared to be before him was a thick, heavy book.
“Fool. As though I would be taken in by mere drink.”
Lawrence took the book, rubbing his nose. He stole a glance at Holo.
She did not appear to have been racked with sobs.
This fact relieved him.
“So are you finished talking?”
“More or less.”
“Mm. Well, for my part I’ve reached my goal. All I need to do now is keep you safe.”
Lawrence looked at the book. Holo noticed his glance. “Half and half, I’d say,” she said.
“Half and half?”
“Half of me wishes I hadn’t read it, and the other half is glad I did.”
It wasn’t a very clear answer. She gestured with her chin at the volume, as if telling Lawrence to see for himself, then sat down beside the candle and brought her tail out.
The sheet of parchment stuck between the book’s pages probably marked the section that dealt with Yoitsu.
Lawrence, though, started at the beginning.
The book was organized as a narrative that began with the origins of the bear spirit and continued on into the many stories about the spirit from various regions.
It was written in the book that the bear spirit was truly gigantic, well worthy of the epithet “moon hunter.” It was said to be so vast that even the highest mountain was but a cushion for the bear spirit to lie upon.
The white-furred beast had a savage disposition and was said to be a harbinger of death. It killed without mercy all who opposed it. The bear spirit traveled from region to region, challenging any being that was worshipped as a god. Once it had killed, it devoured all the food in the region and moved on. The tales in the book were all thus.
Aside from the section marked by the sheet of parchment, the stories were much the same.
Among them, the longest tale concerned the bear spirit’s battle against the sea serpent of Teuperovan, a creature so vast that a continent and countless islands were carried on its back. There was even a
song written about the great conflict, the lyrics of which contained a reference to an island in the region of Radoon, which had been created when earth fell from the serpent’s back in the course of the battle. The fight between the bear and serpent had been fierce, and many pages were devoted to recording its extent.
The other tales, while not quite so epic, were still spectacular, and all served to confirm both the bear’s invincible savagery and the number of lesser spirits it had felled.
It was easy to understand why Father Franz had wanted to judge the tales without bias.
If these stories were to be believed, it would mean that the spirits in this area had already been ravaged before the Church moved in from the south.
Once Lawrence read the section that dealt with Yoitsu, his feelings became rather complicated.
Though Yoitsu was indeed mentioned, it seemed the spirits of the region had all tucked their tails between their legs and run, and Yoitsu itself had been torn apart in less time than it takes for fruit to drop from a tree’s branch to the ground. That was all that had been written. If one were flipping quickly through the pages, that section would be easy to miss.
The spirits of the region were no doubt Holo’s old friends. If they had truly fled, that meant they were safe, but it also made them look unavoidably pathetic.
Lawrence now knew what Holo had meant by half wishing she had not read it and being half glad that she had.
Yoitsu’s story had not even been very interesting—it was but a brief, unexciting section. Holo could not have enjoyed it.
All that said, the fact that Yoitsu had not been destroyed after a bitter, desperate struggle was good fortune within bad. If this was all true, then perhaps the spirits who knew the name Yoitsu had just moved elsewhere.
Just as Holo was unable to be genuinely happy at this news, Lawrence did not know what to say to her. If her companions were alive, it was because they were cowards.
He closed the book and glanced surreptitiously at Holo’s back.
The time when the world revolved around the gods had passed. Even the Church with all its great influence in the south felt the effects.
But there were many gods who had never held particularly strong influence, even in the distant past.
Spice and Wolf, Vol. 4 Page 15
