“You’re well aware of how important verbal contracts are, aren’t you?”
Holo said nothing in response to Lawrence’s question, instead licking her fingers clean like a cat.
“Anyway, my guess is we’ll end up crossing the channel…”
“The sea?” Col looked up from his intense deliberations over whether or not to eat the shrimp head in front of him or leave it on his plate.
“They’re an island nation that imports foreign currency, so they’re full of people who excel at buying all sorts of things.”
It wasn’t clear whether Col understood, but the moment he looked back down at the shrimp head, Holo snatched it away and popped it into her mouth.
It crunched audibly as she chewed it.
Col seemed more surprised at Holo’s eating of the shrimp than he was at having it stolen from him.
“You can eat shrimp heads. They’re rather tasty.”
“Wha…?”
Holo would have been pleased if he’d worn an envious expression, but even the wisewolf was weak against such sad faces.
“Hmph,” she muttered, pulling back the hand that had been reaching for the rest of his shrimp.
“You two eat nicely,” said Lawrence. It was an obvious joke, but he still found himself plucking an herb stem from his face that had been flung there by Holo. “Honestly,” he sighed, and just then there was a hesitant knock at the door.
Col started to stand, but Lawrence had been expecting this, so he wound up going to the door.
“It’s probably Eve’s messenger,” he said, opening the door a crack.
Only the shameless or the boastful flung the door wide-open during a meal. When he saw the face of their guest past the cracked door, he was glad he hadn’t opened it wide.
“My, perhaps I should’ve gone in,” said Eve mischievously as Lawrence stepped out into the hallway and closed the door behind him.
Holo would still be able to hear them perfectly, but that was better than a fight breaking out.
“You jest. Still, I didn’t expect you to come yourself.”
“You wound me. I’m not the kind who forgets a debt—and I owe you my life.”
She narrowed her eyes beneath her scarf, never truly letting anyone know whether she was joking or not. And yet if Lawrence were asked if he was unhappy she had come in person, the truth was that he was not.
“So, about what you asked me.”
“What news?”
“It turns out Reynolds did have some notion of where the bones went.”
Concerned about her choice of words, Lawrence pressed her. “Some notion?”
“I mean, his conclusion was just short of mine.” She cocked her head, obviously giving him a hard time.
Eve had the information that Lawrence and Holo most wanted all along.
“Don’t be angry. I didn’t think things would turn out this way.”
“And?”
“Heh. I don’t feel like you had such a serious face yesterday.” She poked his chin with her finger, which made him scowl. She might have had some wine, to be in such fine spirits. “I’ll just say it—it’s in the Winfiel kingdom, my homelands, at the Great Blondel Monastery. Do you know it?”
“Blon…Wait, not the golden sheep?”
“Oh ho, so you know the tale. Here on the mainland, only the older generation seems to know of it. But yes, the great monastery with the legend of the golden sheep.”
Out on the great plains that stretched as far as one could see, there was a monastery that tended a flock so vast even God couldn’t count their number. There was a legend that every few hundred years, there appeared a sheep with golden fleece amid that great flock.
It was the richest monastery in the Winfiel kingdom, its might as formidable as even the greatest trading company.
“Evidently the monastery bought the bones, though who’s to say whether that’s true.”
“No, thank you, truly. I’ll be certain to repay—”
Eve’s smile cut Lawrence’s words right off. “Don’t be rude now. The fact is I’m in your debt. I got both Arold and my fur back. I’ve readied a ship heading south. So you see—” she said, slowly extending her hand.
She looked right at Lawrence, smiling a genuine smile. “I hope you’ll forgive me.”
Lawrence smiled and looked down to shake her offered hand—that’s when it happened.
“…—!”
He couldn’t begin to guess at whether he could ever have anticipated such a thing happening. His mind went white with surprise.
“…This scent, is it abi leaf? Kieman must’ve treated you to quite a feast.” Eve smiled casually, replacing her scarf as though nothing had happened. “You taught me that business is most profitable when you take your opponent by surprise. That was payment for the lesson.”
Lawrence’s mind still hadn’t caught up as she put her hand on his shoulder and moved closer to his face.
“My name might be of some use in Winfiel. Fleur von Eiterzental Bolan. That’s my formal name, but there’s another name known only to those close to me. Fleur von Eiterzental Mariel Bolana. I rather like the sound of Mariel,” she said, with an innocent smile Lawrence would have liked to see unveiled.
“I hope it’s of some use to you, Lawrence.”
Her sudden use of his name stunned him for a moment, but he quickly replied, “It will be.”
“Kraft Lawrence…I’m glad I met you.”
They were her words as a veteran merchant, whose traveling clothes well suited her. Her scarf was wrapped snugly around her head, and she was clad bodily with her thorough preparation.
She took her hands from Lawrence’s shoulders, straightened herself, and quietly extended her hand again.
She was such a perfectly fresh traveling merchant it was almost frustrating.
“I’ll never forget the name Eve Bolan.”
“Heh. Wherever you find money, you’ll find me. I’m sure we’ll meet again.”
She pulled her hand away crisply and turned on her heel, walking off without a single lingering regret.
Lawrence turned back to the door behind him and was about to open it, when his hand stopped.
“Huh? What’s wrong?” The door was open, and there stood Col. For some reason he was holding a plate heaped with food and wearing a worried expression. “Um, she told me to go out and see.”
Owing to the door’s angle, Lawrence couldn’t see Holo from where he stood. But from Col’s words and his appearance, he could put the pieces together. He patted Col’s head.
“Wait here in the hall for a bit,” he said.
Lawrence wasn’t sure if he had managed to make the right smile, but smile he must, he knew.
Col nodded obediently and went past Lawrence and into the hallway. As he went, Lawrence plucked a morsel off his plate.
It was a bitter-smelling herb, abi. The one Eve had named.
The same herb that Holo had tossed at his face.
He popped it into his mouth, entering the room as he chewed it and closing the door behind him.
“I don’t want to remember what happened next.” If Lawrence had been writing his biography, that’s how he would have ended the chapter.
He murmured as much to himself in an effort to escape reality.
AFTERWORD
It has been a while. This is Isuna Hasekura. You now hold the second volume of a two-volume piece.
This one was so hard that it made me nostalgic for the days when I thought I’d be able to finish it quickly for once. Despite thus far being able to finish the development and conclusion of my stories within a single volume, having ended the previous volume on a cliff-hanger, I knew I had to fit the conclusion into this volume, which was why it was so difficult.
Additionally, not knowing how much more material would result from adding a certain number of plot developments made me constantly nervous over whether I was running too long or too short.
It was certainly good experience for me,
and I’m relieved to have completed it.
I must naturally apologize for having made you all wait four months. I’ll write like crazy from here on out! I’ll write, I swear!
Incidentally, as I’ve blabbed about elsewhere, I moved. For a long time I’d lived in a house that I’d no quarrel with, despite such inconveniences as windows that don’t lock and an occasional lack of hot water, and so I’d assumed that I would live in it for a good while yet.
And yet, the day I found I couldn’t fit any more books into the bookshelves, I could no longer stand it. From that moment, it was not so very long before I couldn’t do a thing about cleaning the rooms. Frightening, indeed.
And so I’ve moved into a slightly larger place, and life is pleasant.
Space in the room is space in the mind! I don’t even get mad when my PC auto updates and restarts in the middle of a game.
The rooms are so pleasant, in fact, that I start wondering if I shouldn’t get a cute little aquarium to put somewhere. I feel like I could handle taking care of a little blowfish, say, and for a betta I could just put some water into a jam bottle—and given that I bought a book on tropical fish just a few days before writing this afterword, it may be only a matter of time.
However, living room aside, I’m no nearer to anything remotely approaching a library or study…
But as I hope to have the place tidied up in time for the next move, I’ve found myself buried in pages, so—I shall see you all again in the next volume!
Isuna Hasekura
Isuna Hasekura
Born December 27, 1982, winner of the twelfth Dengeki Novel Prize Silver Medal. Despite studying physics in college, when deadlines approach he subscribes to the psychological theory of “I can do it if I just work hard,” then agonizes about whether, as a man of science, he should instead be thinking, “This is physically impossible.”
Works from Dengeki Bunko:
Spice and Wolf
Spice and Wolf II
Spice and Wolf III
Spice and Wolf IV
Spice and Wolf V
Illustrations: Jyuu Ayakura
Born 1981. Birthplace: Kyoto. Blood type: AB. Currently living a free, spartan life in Tokyo. Lately he’s been thinking of moving, but the rent within the twenty-three wards has left him in despair.
Town of Strife II Page 17
