Spice & Wolf XVI (DWT)

by Hasekura Isuna

  “Poor you, I didn’t think he’d go that far.”

  Reginald lifted Graham up with his powerful arms.

  “Ugh.. ah..”

  “Ah, just a broken rib or two. You’ll be fine, you didn’t even cough up blood. Myuri got it worse than you.”

  Myuri tried to sit up at the mention of his name, but fell but down and groaned.

  “Reginald..”

  “Oh, you’re still conscious? Guess I should have punched you harder.”

  Reginald handed Graham to his guard, then strode over to Myuri and looked down on him.

  “But hey, this’ll save time. Listen up, Myuri. You lose. There’s no going to Sovereign now. I know you’ve got Hildir Schunard. Tell me where he is, and no tricks! If you do, I’ll let you guys go.”

  Myuri just stared off into space like he couldn’t hear anything. Reginald sighed and knelt down in front of him.

  “I know you can hear me. You’re moving around too much, you know.”

  He planted his boot on Myuri’s right knee.

  “Hey!”

  Reginald’s entire body pressed down until Myuri’s knee was broken.

  “ARGH!!”

  “Oh, you’re awake now? Then answer me!”

  He knelt down again. Myuri knew he’d been betrayed, and that they were caught in a nasty trap.

  “..Why..”

  “Why? You’re answering with a question?”

  Reginald drew Myuri’s sword. It seemed valuable, but he let it dangle like it was worthless. It could be beautiful, and that didn’t matter. All that mattered was it’s edge. Even the dullest blade could be a powerful weapon. He forced it between Myuri’s fingers.

  “Then this is my answer.”

  He dropped Myuri’s sword and wiped his hand, like it was filthy.

  “It’s all about money.”

  He kicked Myuri’s knee, then the sword.

  “H-how do you..!”

  “Haha! It sure is pitiful to see someone so damn naive! To think I’m the one who has to teach you about reality!”

  Once more he lifted Myuri’s sword, this time studying its bloodied edge.

  “The brave, determined, and stubborn Hugo Mercenaries. That’s the line we’ve lived by for twenty years, and we’ve been around for centuries before that.”

  Perhaps his head was too woozy to feel the pain, or maybe he was only half-conscious, but Myuri stared right back at Reginald with worried eyes and repeated himself.

  “..Why! Answer me!”

  “So damn annoying.. Why did I betray you? Because I’m a mercenary! Codes of honor don’t fill your belly, damn it!”

  Reginald stood back up. Graham had struggled over to Myuri with the help of the other mercenaries, and now spoke.

  “The money, Myuri.”

  Reginald handed Myuri’s sword over to Graham.

  “Give me something less pathetic to kill him with.”

  Graham was furious. Moid wanted to make a move, but Reginald kept him at bay with his own sword. He’d already proven his strength, and he had the upper hand.

  “I won’t hesitate to kill you, Moid.”

  Graham was busy pushing Myuri’s own sword into his right leg.

  “Agh!”

  “That’s enough, we don’t want him dying on us just yet.”

  Reginald placed his hand on Graham’s shoulder, who stared at Myuri with pure loathing before spitting on him.

  “I had a long time to think it over, and you only live once. So I might as well work for someone like Diva who’s got all the money.”

  It was like Reginald was talking to the moon that had hidden behind the clouds. He sighed.

  “Think, Myuri.. How many groups have disbanded in these cash-strapped times? And how many of them are still remembered today?”

  Myuri closed his eyes. He already had to stomach the pain, and now he also had to listen to Reginald’s speech.

  “Listen to me!”

  Reginald wasn’t about to be ignored. He stepped on Myuri’s knee again.

  “And then Lesco rolls around, and suddenly our days are numbered. Who cares about things like honor anymore?”

  Reginald was dominating the situation, but he spoke with sadness. It was clearly genuine, too.

  “We all just wanna end up living a good life, right? Well, we can do that just by serving the merchants.”

  Lawrence was overcome with disgust. He stared up at Reginald only to see a face look back begging for forgiveness. He’d betrayed his principles for money. He’d taken advantage of his friend’s situation and injured him terribly.

  It seemed the Diva company just had that effect on people. Maybe this was how all merchants looked to others? After all, they were a group of merchants, and merchants wanted to replace the old systems of power with ones based on money.

  The disgust that Lawrence felt only increased when he saw what was happening; he wanted money to solve everything, but not this way. This was beyond filthy. Reginald had sold his soul for money, and he would never be able to wash the blood off of his hands.

  “When you look at it that way, gold and wine are far more attractive than dying principles. That’s all this is, Myuri.”

  He looked down on Myuri once more.

  “You must know where Hildir Schunard is. You’re taking him to Sovereign. So where is he? Everyone’s waiting, Myuri. Tell us.”

  “I’ll kill you myself if you don’t speak up.”

  Graham cut in to deliver a threat, and after seeing his short temper in action it clearly wasn’t an empty threat. Reginald looked at him, then back at Myuri.

  “I see.. so you’d rather die at the hands of a fellow mercenary?”

  “Reginald..!”

  Moid tried to yell, but his fatigued voice was swallowed by the stark atmosphere. Reginald wasn’t threatening; if anything, some part of him wanted to be merciful to his friend.

  “It’s not like we’ve never killed for money, so there’s no need to play pretend here. You’d better speak up, Myuri. Or..?”

  All the emotion on Reginald’s face suddenly dropped, and he coldly unsheathed his own sword.

  “..Do you really not know?”

  Mercenaries would do anything for money. Lawrence had always known this.

  “..”

  As Myuri’s lips moved, Reginald halted. He looked back at Graham and his men, then knelt down.

  “Come on Myuri, out with it!”

  He spoke like he was encouraging a dying friend. A man who had just sold his own for money was trying to get his friend to talk, and that mouth was finally moving to do so..

  “..Mr. Lawrence..”

  Reginald was just as shocked as Lawrence. Why would he be calling him right now? It meant he hadn’t given up, let alone broken. He hadn’t even issued any final commands to Moid. Instead, this mercenary captain was using his last words to talk to some injured merchant?

  “..call her..”

  Lawrence would have collapsed on the spot if he had time to let his emotions get the best of him. But if this was the only way to make things right, then at least he could shout out loud to vent his frustrations. Not even the dirtiest merchant could stand up to the ancient powers, which Lawrence was breathing in deeply to summon..

  “Holoooooo!!!!!!”

  He howled into the sky with a bellow that even made him close his eyes. No, that was a lie. He was really just too scared to keep them open and see what was coming his way. He hit the ground a moment later as Reginald ran up to him with a ridiculous burst of speed and kicked him. He vomited, on the verge of tears, but the pain of the kick was nothing compared to the fact that all he could do was call Holo’s name. He was only good for making enough noise to summon her.

  “Prepare for battle!”

  Reginald shouted, and a large number of archers suddenly popped up on the slope. They were ready.. but nothing was happening.

  “..Hmm?”

  Reginald frowned in utter disappointment.

  “All you ha
d left in you was a prayer, Myuri?”

  Just as he moved over to shake Myuri by the shoulders, everyone froze. Even Lawrence, whose back straightened up involuntarily. It was said that a bird that knew it was marked for death would simply sit there until it was shot, like a frog patiently waiting for a snake to swallow it whole. Prey could be overwhelmed if the hunter was too strong, like they were commanded to sit still.

  “A fire.. light-”

  Reginald faltered, as though he had just then forgotten how to speak. Or perhaps he would have continued, but Lawrence wasn’t sure. Reginald’s body was too busy sailing through the air, hurled upward by the same giant something that chased him through the air only to step on him before he had come to a rest.

  It was Holo. She stood there, not roaring, or making any other sound. The moon had chosen to peek out from behind the clouds of this dark night, revealing the white breaths that were being exhaled between Holo’s fangs. This wasn’t a town; there were no human lights here to shine on the darkness. This was a dark, quiet mountain pass near a forest, where the beasts and spirits ruled.

  Holo slowly shook her head, and Lawrence forgot about everything else. He needed to run to her. Damn this injured leg of his, and this kicked stomach. He would make it to her even if he had to crawl. Or he would have, had one of Myuri’s guards not plucked him up by the collar. As Holo moved to the horses, only one of them still retained its wits: Lawrence’s horse. With the guard’s help, Lawrence was able to get to the horse and grab its rein before shouting to Moid.

  “Get him on my horse!”

  Moid was already running up to them with Myuri over his shoulder. His face was a mess of tears, probably ones of regret. After setting Myuri on the horse, he realized how hurt Lawrence was and helped him up onto the horse as well.

  “Please..!”

  Moid turned at the sound of Lawrence’s voice, as did the two guards next to them. They had drawn their swords, but their hands were shaking. Lawrence didn’t have to think about why; they weren’t angry or cowardly, just afraid of Holo.

  “Hey!”

  Lawrence shouted out, but Moid and the others were too surprised to act; the Hugo mercenaries were dropping like flies, what chance did they have?

  “Come on! We can make it!”

  Lawrence had to encourage them.

  “We have to go!”

  It was hopeless. They stood no chance against Holo, and Hugo would kill them. At best, they would be taken prisoner. Moid was shivering, doing his best to control his wrath. But he was an excellent staff sergeant, so Lawrence just had to keep trying.

  “Mr. Moid..!”

  “..sorry you had to see that. Let’s go! We have to get you and the master out of here!”

  Lawrence held the reins as well as he could to guide his horse, but his vision was growing hazy from loss of blood. It wasn’t just the dark, freezing night slowing him down. They trudged back to camp as Lawrence reconsidered how great the power of merchants was. Money could corrupt even the greatest of minds. It was like he was wandering through a nightmare, one created by solving problems with money.

  His dream was broken, and now so was his leg. His body swayed back and forth with the horse’s movement, but at least he wasn’t as bad off as the corpse-like Myuri lying unconscious behind him. His strength was failing him, but Moid was there to keep him from falling off his horse. Each time he nearly fell, he could see the mercenaries behind them were nervously watching their backs.

  Their camp wasn’t far, but it might as well be at the ends of the earth for all he could tell. Once more he remembered his time in the Pazzio sewers, fleeing for his life with a gash in his arm. He was still the same pathetic man he was back then. Each time he felt himself losing consciousness, he laughed at himself.

  “The camp! We’re almost there!”

  Once more, Lawrence nearly collapsed. Moid nervously held him up and took the reins from him. Myuri was so cold now that he might as well be a corpse.

  “Bring me medicine and wine!”

  Moid bellowed as loudly as he could, and the men still at camp came running out to see what was happening. The first didn’t even have to ask before he turned back and barked out additional orders. With each additional order, another soldier came rushing out and played the next role in this well-oiled machine. Lawrence was the odd man out.

  Mercenaries fought daily, so such things were as natural to them as breathing. Their response to this emergency was hauntingly beautiful, in fact. It wasn’t the kind of thing that could be done in a few days of training; these were people who had fought beside one another for years. Hugo could never find that level of camaraderie again; not when they were throwing it all away for some cash.

  “Get all the hot water! Tend to the master!”

  They were circled around Lawrence’s horse, and had moved him and Myuri off. This time he wasn’t being kept at a distance like some shady merchant, but rather treated as the benefactor who had defended Myuri with his own life. He lay on a blanket in the snow, and was being gently slapped. He tried letting them know he was conscious, but his mouth wouldn’t move. In fact, his mind was slipping. After a harder slap, his mind finally came into focus enough to notice that a soldier had tended to the wound on his leg, and the pain had somewhat faded.

  “Stop his bleeding! Isn’t the medicine ready yet?!”

  “Staff sergeant! Should we fight or move on?”

  “Weapons! Ready your weapons!”

  “Run, boy! Get another pouch, double-quick!”

  It was noisy, and people were running every which way. Some snow had fallen on his face, but was quickly brushed off for him. Was he still on the battlefield?

  “God’s on your side, your prayers have been answered.”

  He saw a minister with tousled hair and a grim look on his face. With such a simple coat his sword was in plain view, but he really looked the part of a proper mercenary minister.

  “They have..?”

  Lawrence was too bleary to answer with much force, but the minister smiled and gently smacked his face one last time before standing up.

  “Can you hear me?”

  Was that Moid? Who’s hand was smacking him around like that?

  “It’s me, Mr. Lawrence! It’s me!”

  Lawrence nodded, his mind still in a haze.

  “That wolf.. is it on our side?”

  Moid’s eyes were deadly serious, and Lawrence quickly understood what he was asking.

  “It’s Holo..”

  Again, his answer was softer than he intended, but Moid raised his chin abruptly.

  “Good!”

  The Hugo mercenaries were still after them, so if Moid made one bad move their entire band would be good as dead. That was exactly what his grim eyes had been saying to Lawrence a moment ago.

  “Grab anything that can be used as a weapon! Only leave what we need for healing!”

  Almost all of the men had a weapon in one hand, be it a spear, axe or sword, and with their free hand they passed around a bottle of wine and a torch.

  “The Hugo mercenaries may have betrayed us, but thankfully we still have friends in high places!”

  Everyone cheered, but hushed themselves almost immediately.

  “Staff sergeant.. over there!”

  One of the men was pointed into the dark. Lawrence saw Moid turn in that direction and then he heard something. Was that an army? Was the ground shaking? He finally put two and two together and realized that he was hearing the gentle footsteps of a certain enormous body, and feeling their impact through the ground. They were the same paws that had saved him before, and made him calm enough to feel his exhaustion.

  “..Is that you, Ms. Holo?”

  Holo didn’t respond to Moid’s question, but flung something on the ground instead. Several gasps were heard.

  “W-Why did you bring Graham..?”

  Moid was flummoxed.

  “He may prove useful.”

  Holo’s reply made Lawrence laugh, but
no sound came out of his throat. He could see Hildir in his cage, wearing what appeared to be a smile.

  “More of your men are coming back, and some of them are wounded. Help them.”

  Judging by the stiffness of her voice, Holo was probably sitting down. The mercenaries stared at each other silently before rushing off with a shout. As their footsteps trailed off, he heard enormous footsteps once more.

  “Fool.”

  She licked his face.

  “We.. made it..”

  “Barely.”

  She looked in the direction that Moid and his men had charged.

  “But helping them was probably a mistake.”

  With that, she left his side. What did she mean that it was probably a mistake? In his state, Lawrence couldn’t settle on an answer. He could only lose consciousness.

  Chapter 10

  When he woke up, Lawrence was in a room with a warm fire. It felt as if he’d awakened from a long dream, but the pain he felt when he moved his leg was enough to force him back to reality. He could vaguely recall arriving in Sovereign before dawn broke. He slowly moved himself off the bed, doing his best to avoid putting weight on his leg.

  The light shining in through the shutters was rather weak; it was probably cloudy outside. In fact, it wasn’t just quiet indoors, but outdoors as well. Maybe it was still early? That would mean he hadn’t slept enough, but he wasn’t tired. Just like every time he was put through the wringer like this.. And this time he knew why.

  His rage still hadn’t subsided. It wasn’t just the betrayal of the Hugo mercenaries. He also couldn’t forgive the shameful tactics Diva had employed to initiate their betrayal. Reginald was the one who had gone along with it, so he had to take the blame, but it was obvious that he was all but begging Myuri for forgiveness.

  Anyone could see that Reginald felt forced into it: he must have been made an offer that he couldn’t refuse. While in Lesco, the mercenaries had learned that the world was moving on. They had to move along with it, so of course a leisurely life of guaranteed income would entice him. If merchants were able to provide that, everyone would follow them.

  However, Reginald was hardly worthy of pity. He’d destroyed Myuri’s leg. He’d stabbed him in the arm and thigh. Myuri didn’t even have his wits about him, and Reginald had tried to pressure him to surrender like he was begging, “Please join me, I don’t want to be the only one doing this!” He clearly regretted surrendering his principles without more of a fight.