Spice & Wolf II

by Isuna Hasekura

  Nonetheless, Lawrence clenched his fists until his knuckles were white from the rage he felt.

  But half of that anger was at himself. He could not undo this error.

  Unescorted, he walked down from the negotiation room on the third floor to the loading dock on the first floor.

  Holo was dressed as a town girl and was thus unable to be present for the negotiation; she waited in the driver’s seat of the wagon, watched over by someone from the trading company. The moment Lawrence emerged onto the dock, Holo turned around with a start.

  Lawrence wondered how terrible he must look.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting,” he said, climbing onto the wagon. Holo gave a vague nod, peering at Lawrence curiously.

  “Let’s go.”

  Lawrence took the reins and ignored the dockmaster, heading the horse away from the loading dock. The dockmaster had apparently been informed of the situation in advance, so he silently watched Lawrence and Holo leave.

  As they descended the slope from the dock down onto the cobbled street, Lawrence let slip a great sigh.

  It escaped with all the anger, frustration, and regret piled up within him.

  There was so much sheer defeat in the sigh that if a rabbit had been nearby, it might have died on the spot.

  But it was not as though the sigh had taken Lawrence’s merchant sense from him.

  This was no time for despair. His mind swirled with cold fury as he began to calculate how he might raise the funds.

  ...Hey.

  A timid voice cut through his trance.

  “Hm?”

  “What...what happened?” Holo asked with an awkward, anxious smile—Holo, whose true wolf form Lawrence had fully accepted. She had surely overheard the conversation with Remelio, so her question must have some of the intent.

  Lawrence imagined what he looked like to Holo.

  Image was a merchant’s life. He took his hands off the reins and forced himself to relax his tense facial muscles.

  “If you want to know what happened, the load behind us is worthless.”

  “Mmph. Then I suppose I didn’t hear wrong.”

  “Incidentally, this could mean bankruptcy for me.”

  Holo’s face twisted, pained—perhaps she understood the sad fate that awaited the bankrupt, like a lamb being led to the slaughter. Then her expression changed.

  Her cool wolf’s eyes regarded Lawrence evenly.

  "Will you run?”

  If I run once, I’ll be on the run forever. The information networks of the trade guilds and companies are like the very eyes of God. No matter where I went, if I tried to do business, I’d be found out immediately. I’d never be able to be a merchant again.”

  “But the going rate for an injured animal to free itself is gnawing through its own limb. You won’t content yourself with that?”

  “Impossible,” answered Lawrence flatly.

  Holo turned away, as if thinking.

  “If I pay back the equivalent of forty-seven lumione gold pieces, that’ll be enough. I still have my goods on hand. I can settle my debts here and sell the armor somewhere far away, where it'll fetch a decent price. It’s not impossible,” said Lawrence, as if it were simple. In reality, the ease with which he explained it was equivalent to the impossibility of the task.

  But he had no other choice. His merchant’s spirit was part of it—if he tried to run, his life as a merchant was over. His only option was to struggle until the end.

  After averting her gaze for a while, Holo turned back to Lawrence.

  As if weary of looking at his stricken face, she smiled thinly “I’m Holo the Wisewolf. I’m sure I can be of some help.”

  “This is rather different from covering your meals.”

  Holo jabbed Lawrence in his side with her fist. “I said all along I’d pay for my own food.”

  “I know, I know,” replied Lawrence as he brushed her fist away.

  Holo’s eyebrows were raised as she sniffed slightly, her anger dissolved.

  She looked expressionlessly at the horse. When she spoke, it was as though she was uttering a grave oath.

  “If it becomes necessary, I swear on my honor to free you even if I must use the power within this wheat.”

  Within the pouch that hung from Holo’s neck was the wheat that contained her essence. If she used it, she could easily return to her true form.

  Yet Holo loathed above all else the terrified gazes of those who saw that form. Those reactions were a prison that condemned her to loneliness.

  She had once returned to that shape deep in the underground canals beneath the port city of Pazzio, but that had been because Holo herself was in danger.

  This was different. The danger now confronted Lawrence alone.

  He was meekly gratified that Holo was prepared to go to such lengths for his sake.

  “You promised to accompany me back to the northlands. I can’t have you getting tripped up here.”

  “I’ll keep that promise, and—”

  Lawrence closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

  “—if it comes to it, I may need saving.”

  Lawrence felt a new sense of relief, knowing that there was someone he could rely on.

  Holo grinned. “Count on it,” she said.

  “We’ll go to the guild house first. That’s all we can do.”

  “Mm. If they’re truly your comrades they’ll come to your aid." She meant it as encouragement, but Lawrence knew all too well that the world was not so simple. In his ten years spent in the world of merchants, he had seen any number of people whose support would disappear as soon as you found yourself in a predicament.

  “Right, I’m heading out for a moment, so you just wait here—" Holo stamped her foot before Lawrence could finish his sentence. “Do I look like the kind of ungrateful wolf that lets her companion face a crisis alone?”

  “No, but—”

  “Do I?!”

  She looked up at him, feet planted.

  “You don’t, but that’s not the issue.”

  “What is the issue, then?”

  She moved aside for the moment, but the look in her eyes made it clear that she would block him again depending on Ins answer.

  “The guild house is like home for merchants like me. You understand what bringing a girl home means, right?”

  “It is not as though I’m playing at ignorance of the situation."

  “Explaining our situation is impossible! How am I supposed to account for my relationship to you?”

  Holo would be burned at the stake as a demon if the Church was to find her. Although Jakob, who ran the guild house in this city, was an even more understanding man than himself, Lawrence knew that it would be a disaster if he for some reason decided to turn Holo in to the Church. And besides, many merchants from the Rowen area came through the guild—and not all of them were so understanding. He couldn’t risk it.

  Lawrence would have to engage in at least a bit of deception in order to explain his connection to Holo. But could he pull it off? Jakob could spot a lie a hundred leagues away.

  “Just claim we're lovers, then. ’Tis better by far than being left here,” said Holo.

  It was clear she was worried about him.

  Lawrence knew that if their positions were reversed, he would be angry if she tried to go off and solve her problems alone. He knew he would feel betrayed if she told him to “stay at the inn.”

  Holo averted her eyes.

  He would just have to pray.

  “Fine. Come along. You’re the smart one, anyway.”

  “Mm. You can rely on me.”

  “However—” Lawrence stepped aside to allow a traveler to enter the inn “—this is a business meeting. Don’t do anything crazy. That lot can give a rough welcome.” Lawrence said this with a tone that made it clear he would brook no argument on the matter—his colleagues’ idea of a welcome could be a real baptism by fire.

  But Holo seemed happy as long as he was taking her wi
th him. She nodded agreeably.

  “Right then, let’s go.”

  Let's!

  The two walked off briskly and soon disappeared into the crowds.

  Just as Lawrence was about to knock on the door of the guild house, someone came out.

  It was obvious at a glance that he was a town merchant, but no sooner had he spotted Lawrence with surprise than his face soured and he looked away—he was clearly a messenger from the Remelio Company. The most likely scenario was that he had come to inform the guild of Lawrence’s position and the possibility that the Remelio Company would turn to them to guarantee Lawrence’s debt.

  Lawrence said nothing, simply giving way to the man as though he was no one in particular.

  The merchant himself would probably never have deigned to undertake such a role if his own company were not in such dire straits. As it was, though the Remelio Company was trying to force Lawrence to pay up, the man practically scurried away from Lawrence.

  A person who liked bringing others to ruin was actually rare among merchants, who spent their days trying to outwit their competitors. Destruction and competition were totally different things.

  “I daresay I thought he was going to take a swing at you.” Holo seemed to have noticed that the man was from Remelio, but Law rence only gave a pained grin at her joke.

  “At least he spared us the trouble of explaining the worst of the news. I should thank him.”

  “I suppose it depends on perspective.”

  Finally able to smile, Lawrence entered the guild house.

  The merchants that dealt with fish, vegetables, and other perish-able goods had mostly concluded their work for the day. Unlike the morning when

  Lawrence had come, the guild was now filled with men sitting at the tables, drinking wine, and having a grand time. Lawrence could put a name to each face. Some raised a hand in greeting to him as soon as they noticed him.

  However, when Holo entered just behind him, the activity came to a sudden stop, and a strange commotion rippled through the assemblage. It was like a sigh. And the look—calling it “envy " 0r “jealousy” didn’t do it justice. Holo was entirely indifferent to the situation, but Lawrence found it almost painful.

  “Oh ho, this must be God’s will.”

  Jakob was the first to speak—the smile he displayed failed to reach his eyes.

  “You’ve caught a rare jewel here, Lawrence.”

  Holo ignored the myriad eyes fixed on her and walked smoothly toward Jakob, leading Lawrence by the hand.

  The fact that Jakob had called him Lawrence rather than Kraft stabbed at him.

  It meant that Jakob would no longer treat him as a member of the guild, but only as a merchant like any other.

  “I didn’t catch her—I was caught by her, Chief Tarantino.” Jakob grinned so widely his face became distorted, then he rose laboriously and patted Lawrence heavily on the shoulder, gesturing inside. “Let’s talk.”

  The sharp-eyed merchants in the room had noticed the unusual mood of the exchange. None spoke.

  Past the lobby was an enclosed courtyard. Looking out over the courtyard with its sparse seasonal decoration as he led them in, the giant Jakob spoke.

  “Didn’t you pass the fellow from the Remelio Company?”

  “I did. At the front door.”

  “Ah. I thought you’d be lucky and miss him.”

  “...Why is that?” Lawrence didn’t understand what Jakob was getting at, but he could see Jakob’s shoulders shaking with mirth. “Because there was no noise when we came to blows.”

  Holo smirked slightly, and Lawrence relaxed.

  Jakob opened the door to a room on the right side of the hallway they were in and motioned for the two to enter.

  “This is where I work. There’ll be nobody to listen to our conversation here, so you can relax on that count,” said Jakob.

  It was not a large room, but it gave the impression of housing limitless knowledge.

  Looking through the open door, they could see the walls were almost entirely covered with shelves, upon which rested carelessly stacked bundles of documents.

  There was a small table in the middle of the room wedged between two simple couches of wood and leather construction.

  Also facing the door was a desk piled high with a mountain of documents. Though paper was becoming less expensive with each passing year, there were still fine varieties to be had. It was proof that Jakob spared little expense in the preservation of knowledge. Even a well-regarded theologian might not have collected so much.

  “Well, then, where shall we begin?”

  Jakob faced the table and sat on one of the couches, which heaved a creaky sigh under his significant weight. Normally that was the seed from which a friendly chat would bloom, but in these circum-stances, it was only the authority that bore down on Lawrence.

  Lawrence was glad Holo was beside him.

  If he had been alone, his mind might simply have gone blank.

  “First, I’d sure like to know who and what that beauty of yours is.” Jakob’s gaze fixed steadily on Lawrence.

  It was admittedly preposterous for a merchant facing bankruptcy to be walking around with a town girl. Were Jakob a less patient man, he would have given Lawrence the boot as soon as he had shown up with Holo in tow.

  “She’s a business partner. We’re traveling together.”

  “Ho, a business partner?” Jakob looked at Holo for the first time, seeming to think this was a grand joke. Holo smiled and inclined her head.

  “The Milone Company in Pazzio offered me one hundred forty trenni for the furs I was selling, but in the end, they bought them for a full two hundred trenni. She’s the one who made it happen "

  Holo’s face betrayed a certain amount of pride in opposition to Jakob’s doubtful expression.

  His doubt was understandable. If someone had told Lawrence a similar story, he would have assumed it to be a lie. The Milone Company was known in many nations, and those who worked for it were first-rate traders—bargaining them higher in price was not something that happened easily.

  “I said it this morning when I was here. ‘You can’t invest without capital.’” Since the story of the furs was true, Lawrence spoke without fear.

  He had not thought about whether Holo would be angry at him for talking about it, but she seemed to understand that it was for expediency’s sake.

  Jakob closed his eyes, and strangely, his expression shifted.

  “I don’t need to know the details. Your like does show up every once in a while, after all.”

  “Huh?”

  “One day they just show up at the guild, stunning beauty in tow, everything going well in business and life. And they never want to give details about the woman. So I don’t ask anymore. The scriptures say not to open strange boxes, after all.”

  Lawrence wondered if it was a trick to make him tell the truth, hut he didn’t know what purpose it would serve. He tried to rethink his position.

  Perhaps the story of the cart horse turning into the goddess of fortune and traveling with a merchant was true.

  Lawrence himself was traveling with a wolf spirit who had taken the form of a girl. Merchants like him were too realistic to assume they were somehow special.

  "’Tis a prudent decision,” said Holo, which elicited a hearty laugh from Jakob.

  “Well, then, let’s speak frankly then, shall we? If you two were a couple, I’d have tried to convince you to head straight to the church and make it official. But if you’re in business together, well, that’s different. You’ll hang together or hang separately—your partner’s fall is your own misfortune. The bonds of gold run thicker than blood!”

  Jakob’s couch creaked.

  “Let me get the story straight. The fellow from Remelio that just left told it like this: Kraft Lawrence, attached to the Rowen Trade Guild, bought one hundred lumione worth of armor from the Latparron Company in Poroson. Were liable for roughly half. Now the Remelio Company holds
the debt. Is that it?” Lawrence nodded painfully.

  “I didn’t hear what kind of armor it was, but the armor is going for about one-tenth what it previously was, so even if you sell it for that price, you’ve still got to make up about forty lumione. That comes out to fifteen hundred pieces of trenni silver.”

  After all was said and done, Lawrence had come away with about a thousand pieces of silver from the Pazzio affair. Even if he were able to repeat the stunt, there would be debt left over.

  “It looks like you were completely taken in by the Latparron Company. I won’t ask the details. From what I’ve heard, that won’t change the situation.

  No matter what anyone thinks, you got greedy and made a mistake. Is that right?”

  “It is, exactly.”

  Lawrence didn’t try to make excuses. Saying he had become greedy and failed summed up his predicament precisely.

  “If you understand that, this will be a simple conversation. You must pay back on your own the debt that the guild will, in all likelihood, shoulder. When you meet with fraud or extortion, when you become sick or injured and suffer losses, we in the trade guild put our credit on the line to save you. But not this time. The only ones to come to your aid now will be the gods—”

  Jakob pointed a finger at Holo, who glanced at Lawrence.

  “—or that beauty.”

  “I understand.”

  Unlike craft guilds, a regional trade guild was built around assurances of mutual assistance. It ran on contributions from its members, and as Jakob said, it gave aid to merchants who had suffered misfortune and would otherwise be unable to get by. Members would also assemble in foreign lands to protest unfair treatment.

  The guild had not been created to guarantee the debts of merchants whose greed led them to ruin.

  In such cases, even if the guild temporarily assumed the liability, it would pursue repayment relentlessly. The other guild members wouldn’t stand for the loss, and it served as a lesson in the restraint of greed.

  Jakob’s eyes were like bows drawn tight.

  “Unfortunately, I’m not in a position where I can show you any compassion—and the reason why I must be so strict is just outside in the lobby. It is guild law. If it became known that this trade house goes easy on its members, it would be a target for riffraff from all around.”