That’s why the plans for such places were usually rushed, and work began even before all the important details were settled. The master of the project might not even live in the area.
Since the land rights were written on paper, they often ended up circulated like dandelion puffs wafting on the wind. It wasn’t at all surprising for an aristocrat to end up donating his land to someone from a distant land he wasn’t at all familiar with.
Thus, no matter the era, that patchwork nature of land rights - like a beggar’s stitched-together clothing - was always the source of disputes. As a result, those who lived around the disputed land would often avoid contact with their new neighbors, fearing they would be dragged into those disputes.
This village was quite typical of these concerns. According to the villagers, merchants in towns and villages nearby lacked the confidence to deal with them. The elder also mentioned that having the young man sell chickens and beer at the roadside was an attempt to incur the sympathy of passers-by. Surely, heaven had granted Lawrence this opportunity. To the villagers, Lawrence was like an angel sent by God.
Lawrence hadn’t had too much to drink, but he couldn’t conceal his mirth. He couldn’t be blamed for being a bit giddy, because what he dreamed of when he was traveling on his own was now right in front of him. Just how much profit could he make in this village? The night was growing darker and darker, but his mind was growing clearer and clearer. The prospects here were more intoxicating than the beer served to him at the feast. Just as he started to get drunk on his thoughts-
“Seriously, you are such a hopeless male.”
Mixed with a sigh, those were the words that reached his ears the moment he noticed Holo slowly stirring.
“Hmm? Oh, you’re awake?”
“How could I sleep through such foolish laughter.”
Lawrence could not help putting a hand to his face upon hearing that.
“I left the feast in such an atypical manner, but you cared not. You just kept laughing..”
Her saying this confirmed that she’d intentionally left the banquet early. Lawrence chose his next words extra carefully so he wouldn’t sound like he was blaming her, and didn’t earn her anger.
“Do you have any idea how relieved I am that you still sound as spirited as ever?”
He felt her tail rustling under the blanket they shared. Holo, who could distinguish lies from truth, pulled up to him and bared her fangs.
“Fool.”
He kept quiet, knowing she’d be angry no matter how he responded, but apparently his response was more or less acceptable. She then turned over, with her back facing him. It was such a direct expression of her feelings that he knew she couldn’t really be that angry with him.
“Why did you leave so quickly? The chicken and beer were delicious.”
Especially the beer, he thought. In fact, he’d asked them about it and learned about the dried spices they had ground into powder and added to the beer to create that unique flavor. The spices were exquisite, and the chickens were so plump they practically oozed with grease. Why was she so unsatisfied?
She didn’t respond at once, but after a while she slowly spoke with a frail voice.
“You enjoyed the beer that much?”
“Uh..?”
He didn’t ask her that because she’d spoken too softly, but rather because her response was the furthest from what he expected to hear.
“I could not stomach it. With that stench, I could not believe you drank it as if it were so delicious.”
People had their preferences, so it wasn’t strange that she disliked the taste of their beer. But he couldn’t understand her anger.. no, her sadness.
He allowed his gaze to linger in the air a moment longer before speaking slowly and carefully, as if fearing that Holo would vanish in a cloud of bubbles.
“They brought those spices with them from their homeland.. they’re an acquired taste, so people either love them or hate them-”
“Fool.”
She kicked him under the blanket and turned back to face him. The features on her scrunched-up face seemed unnatural somehow, but it wasn’t because of the moonlight from the hole in the roof. It was the same expression she always wore when she had something to say, but couldn’t bring herself to say it.
And Lawrence was never able to determine why she couldn’t bring herself to speak in those situations.
“Forget it!”
With that, she turned away again and curled up into a ball. When they slept on the wagon, her tail was usually his blanket. But this time, she went as far as to snatch away most of the actual blanket they were sharing. Needless to say, she kept her tail to herself.
Given that her ears were pulled down, Lawrence knew she didn’t want to listen to him anymore. The form of her back made it clear that she wanted him to figure her feelings out for himself.
“..”
Was she throwing a tantrum because the beer wasn’t to her liking? Was she really that difficult a person? Clearly not - the beer topic was just her excuse to get angry.
Just then it dawned on him that since he’d met that young man on the road, he’d been drunk on potential opportunities, obsessed with business. He’d heard that a hunter’s hound would become jealous when the hunter married.
Though he found it difficult to believe she’d react in such a way, perhaps this was the “foolish male’s state of mind” that she spoke of? He glanced at her back, scratching his head in embarrassment.
Whatever her state of mind was, he had to start paying better attention to her starting the next day, he thought to himself. After all, this wolf’s temper was as unpredictable as the weather in a forest deep within the mountains.
* * *
When it drizzled in the winter, a blanket was used for covering goods. But for himself, he would simply hug his body with his arms and spend the whole night that way. He had it quite good right now, sleeping under a roof on a bed of matted hay.
He woke up in the morning with a typical sneeze. Before voicing any complaint, he opted to reflect on past experiences to make it easier to accept his present situation.
Holo slept comfortably beside him, under the sheets, snoring. Though he was hardly the type to never get angry, all he could do when he saw her sleeping face was softly sigh and turn to rise out of bed.
This house was called a home, but it actually looked more like a furnished cave. He exhaled white
mist and stretched, his stiff joints popping and creaking in the cold air outside. The floor wasn’t wooden, but a pile of soft earth - that was for the best, since he wouldn’t wake her as he walked.
He went outside and stretched mightily under the dawn sky, welcoming what seemed to be the start of another fine day. Villagers were gathered around wells drawing water as oxen, pigs and goats were heard braying in the distance. It was the spitting image of that hardworking village one saw in paintings. Breakfast wasn’t something he should be expecting, he realized with a rueful smile.
* * *
Holo finally woke up at noon. Villagers would normally react to that with critical stares, but perhaps because this was a colonial village, they simply smiled at her. Almost all of them had traveled extensively at some point in their lives, bringing their families and livestock with them. They were all well aware that a traveler’s biological clock differed from the norm.
But he was right about breakfast. Breakfast was a luxury in even the most materialistic town. Of course it wouldn’t even cross the minds of those in a simple, hardworking village that was building a monastery.
“Hey, what are you doing?”
He wondered if Holo slept in knowing that she might as well, since there wasn’t going to be any breakfast. She ate a slice of toasted bread with slices of pork sausage on it, the pigs having been slaughtered for the winter.
He would have felt guilty if they were enjoying such a sumptuous meal for free, but fortunately that wasn’t something he needed to worry about. Holo was fo
cused on Lawrence’s hands as she ate, who in turn was focused on the task at hand.
Watching her devour her bread in such big bites while drinking beer made his stomach grumble in complaint. But it seemed that her anger from the previous day had subsided, so he felt it prudent to not risk triggering another wave. Even knowing he risked spoiling her, he decided to answer her inquiry rather than voicing his dissatisfaction.
“Translating.”
“Trans.. lating?”
He couldn’t help but worry that even trying to nag her about talking with her mouth full would only come back to bite him. He nodded in reply as he brushed the crumbs of bread away from around her mouth.
“I was asked to translate this from the Church language to help prevent more disputes like yesterday’s.”
It would be quite expensive for them to get someone in a nearby town to translate it for them. Though he wasn’t charging for the service, he likewise couldn’t guarantee the accuracy of his translation.
“Oh˜”
She appeared to be lost in thought, squinting at the piece of parchment on the table and the wooden slate he used for translating. But she soon lost interest and spoke while taking a sip of her beer.
“Well, as long as you are willing to work, I can go on eating and drinking without restraint.”
After tossing out this quip - which would have frozen the smile on anyone’s face - she tossed the last bit of bread into her mouth and left his side.
“I just wish you’d exercise a bit of restraint around me, at least.”
He murmured at her back and sighed. But when his eyes fell back down he noticed something.
“Hey! That’s mine..”
Sure enough, she turned around to reveal their second slice of bread in her mouth.
“‘Twas but a small joke.. do not react with a such a horrified expression.”
“If it was just a small joke, then why is there so little bread left?”
“I should be allowed to be a little shameless around you, no?”
“Oh, I’m surely honored.”
He threw her attitude back at her, making her even less happy as she sat on the table. Just as he was wondering how spoiled she could possibly get, she flashed him an evil smile.
“Then I shall turn to the villagers: Sir, sir! Please, just a little bread..”
It was obvious who would feel bad if she really did that, but if Lawrence just caved in now he really would be spoiling her too much.
“Just how much do you need, anyway? Enough to feed several grown men?”
He shot that out like he was flicking her nose, then snatched his bread out of her hands, took a bite, and turned back to his translation. She lowered her head and sighed, her interest dashed. Just as he was thinking that he should be the one sighing-
“If I was asked by the villagers, I would put a hand on my belly and say..”
Lawrence knew he would lose if he responded, so he picked up his quill and pretended he wasn’t listening.
“Aye, I would say.. ‘I would like enough for two.”’
She leaned over and spoke directly into his ear. He coughed the bread he was chewing on right back out, but he certainly wasn’t overreacting. The malicious grin remained on her face as she questioned him.
“What? Did you not always know that my appetite is that of two?”
One had to put the weapons they had to good use to win in a bargaining scenario, but it boggled the mind how well Holo wielded hers. Just as Lawrence opted to stop listening to her and began dusting the bread crumbs off the wooden slate, her hand reached in and plucked the sausage link that was sandwiched between his bread.
“Hey, you, that frown on your face is from hunching over this desk all morning. You should go outside and breathe in the cool air.”
When they had only just met, Lawrence would have simply taken her words at their face value and replied, “mind your own business,” inciting her anger. But now he just leaned back in his chair silently and closed his eyes for a moment before raising his hands in surrender.
“It would be troublesome should a grain fall upon a field after the harvest has ended.”
“Aye, I cannot guarantee that I will not fall in love with the wheat here, either.”
It was a joke that only she, who lived in the wheat, could pull off.
Having pulled down her hood and concealed her excited tail, she then took the initiative and approached the door, extending her hand to open it.
“I would indeed be troubled if you were to fall for the wheat here. What a headache it would be to watch you randomly eat wheat off of the ground.”
“Indeed. For someone who values every grain, picking them up is sheer torture.”
Holo’s face swelled up in anger; she bit off a piece of the bread Lawrence was holding.
* * *
Taking a leisurely tour of the village was quite a pleasant way to pass the time. Moreover, Holo hadn’t seen a regular village in all the time since they had left Pasloe.
She may not have been happy at the time she decided to leave Pasloe, but being in a farming village was sure to trigger some nostalgia. She looked at the bundles of grass set aside for fertilizer and the various bits of muddied farm equipment up against the wall (common sights in Pasloe), and smiled.
“They don’t talk much with their neighbors, so that’s why they’re planting beans this time of year.”
Villages would normally stop farming this time of year, and simply weave baskets or make wooden furniture to sell. In other words, they would normally shift their routines to working indoors. But here, things were different. They were three days from the nearest town, even by wagon. Towns generally refused to do business with such distant neighbors to avoid the potential pitfalls. And so, it was far more pressing for the villagers to focus on their food supply. Other things could wait.
“After all, beans will help fertilize such barren soil. And yet they should be able to sow a variety of crops without worrying about such details.”
It was a small village; they were soon at its outskirts. From this vantage point, the fields weren’t so expansive that they couldn’t see the far end, but it was still impressive to consider that so few people were managing this much land.
The fields weren’t separated by fences or ditches, so they were probably common to all of the villagers. Most places this remote didn’t even bother bordering their land with fences or ditches.
That said, several people could be seen working, all facing toward the springs. They seemed to be digging drains for irrigation.
It was often said that lies were told for convenience, and it seemed that Holo had indeed been right: Lawrence hadn’t frowned once since they left the house.
“Hey, how much money do you feel you will be able to squeeze from this village?”
The rickety-looking fence that encircle the village seemed sturdier than he’d expected. After watching Holo sit upon it, he sat down next to her and waved at the villagers that had spotted them before turning to make his reply.
“Aren’t you being a bit too nasty to speak so ill of me?”
“Was your expression yesterday not nastier still?”
Was she upset last night because he was revealing such a greedy look? No, he quickly dismissed that notion. Given how happy Holo seemed right now, it was probably something else.
“There is profit to be had anywhere goods are being exchanged. If they drop something, I’ll just lick it off the ground.”
“Wow, just like wine..”
She was probably talking about the drops of alcohol that fell from the pouches of fermenting grapes that people hung under their eaves. The grapes were pressed by their own weight, and only the juice that dripped out was used to make wine. The result was a flavor that ordinary wine couldn’t match. Her wolf side was always the same; when it came to food, her knowledge was second to none.
“We should be able to earn a profit without even relying on your abilities this time. The profit pot
ential here is rather large for such a random mid-journey encounter.. perhaps enough even to let you stuff yourself with chicken.”
A breeze blew by gently, carrying with it the mooing of distant cows. How serene, he thought, just before the sharp clucking of chickens rang out from behind them.
“How should I say this.. when I stop to think about it, I’ve been relying on your power alone, so shouldn’t I at least be gracious and profit by my own power once in a while?”
It wasn’t as though he’d sealed any deal yet, so it was probably far too early to talk like this. But Lawrence still felt that she wouldn’t blame him for talking a little tough.
That, and if he stopped to consider his gains and losses one by one, he was certain that what Holo had earned for him far exceeded what it cost to quench her hunger and thirst. That was why he sometimes wanted to let her eat and drink to her heart’s content.
“Hey, you.”
“Hmm?”
“Do you sincerely believe that I could eat, drink and be merry like that with nary a whit of worry?”
Just then, he wondered if time had stopped while the answer dawned on him.
“Then.. that’s why you were so angry last night?”
She might always be pestering him for things, but she always made up for it. She managed to earn what she spent, and always helped Lawrence inwardly and outwardly to solve the problems they faced on their travels.
And wasn’t it precisely because she hated being treated as a special entity that made her fear being worshiped as a goddess? From that perspective, all of his ”consideration” was probably having an adverse effect.
“Wellll.. I think there may not be a need for you to be that concerned, even if loyalty and compassion are so deeply ingrained in your nature.”
That only made her glare at him in disgust, as if to say “can you not understand without me spelling it out for you?”
“Hmph. I am just an ignorant wolf. I cannot even read those.. words.”
Ah, so he was right.. she was just anxious about not having made a contribution. Seeing him working at the desk after waking up would have been like a slap in the face to her.
“Well, if that’s all it is, there is something you can help with.”
Spice & Wolf XI (DWT) Page 3
