Spice and Wolf Volume III Light Novel[English Translation]

Denatus · Head of the Merchant's Guild Joined: 17 May 2008 Posts: 31

(Set directly after the ending of the Anime. 1/2 of it is done =) )

Chapter One

It had already been six days since departing from the Church city of Rubinhagen. The weather was getting colder with the passing of each day, which, along with the gloomy overcast sky made even the mild day breezes sufficient to cause shivers.

Especially after arriving at the riverside road, the wind carried with it the coldness of the water, making the temperature even less bearable.

The river, whose water seemed a tainted mixture of liquid and dark clouds, looked cold to the extreme.

Even the multiple layers of second-hand winter garments purchased at Rubinhagen seemed of little help against the bone-chilling weather.

Although, reflecting back to the time when, seizing the initiative to buy merchandise resulted in a lack of funds for purchasing extra winter clothing, and the freezing journey north that followed, brought a strained smile to his face. This feeling of nostalgia more or less made him forget about the cold.

After seven years, the rookie traveling merchant of the past seemed to have grown quite a bit.

Besides, this year, in addition to the protective clothing was another existence capable of making one forget about the bitter cold.

Traveling merchant Lawrence, who became his own man at the early age of eighteen and would this year be embracing his seventh winter in the trade, turned his sight toward the person sitting next to him in the driver’s seat.

Normally there would be no one there whether he looked to the right or to the left.

Even during the rare instances in which he did have a traveling companion, that person would probably not be sitting together with him in the driver’s seat, not to mention being covered under the same piece of merchandise-covering cloth as the one covering his lap for warmth.

"...What?", the companion asked.

The traveling companion who used a somewhat archaic form of speech.

This traveling companion appeared as a white-teethed and bright-eyed girl of fifteen years or so, with beautiful flax-colored long hair that would make even a noble envious. However, what made Lawrence envious was neither her beautiful flax-colored hair nor the high-quality robe she had on.

It was the animal tail that she had placed on the covering cloth and was grooming with great care.

The tail was brown in color, with a bit of white at the tip; its dense fur looked really warm. If it could be made into a scarf, it would undoubtedly become a big hit among rich women; too bad it wasn’t for sale.

“Hurry up, finish grooming that tail and tuck it back under the covers.”

It wouldn’t be inaccurate to say that the robe-wearing girl carefully grooming the animal tail with a comb resembled a poor nun doing part-time work.

Even so, upon hearing Lawrence’s words, the young girl narrowed her slightly red, amber-colored eyes, before parting her lips, which seemed completely undamaged by the dry winter wind, to speak in an unpleased tone:

“I am not letting you use my tail as a lap furnace.”

Having said this, the tail in her hands moved slightly.

Although passing travelers or traveling merchants who spotted the tail would always assume it was a decorative piece of fur, the fact was that the tail was still attached to its original owner.

It was actually a part of the girl who was carefully grooming it. In fact, the young girl didn’t just have a tail; underneath her hood was hidden a pair of inhuman, animal ears. Of course, someone with a tail and a pair of animal ears couldn’t possibly be a normal human.

Although humans possessed by fairies or demons and having inhuman outward characteristics were not unheard of, she was not one among these.

The girl’s real form was a huge, godlike wolf that dwelt within wheat, and her name was Horo, the Wise Wolf of Yoitsu.

To a knowledgeable Orthodox Christian, Horo was regarded as a pagan deity, a fearsome existence. But to Lawrence, fearing Horo was a thing of the past.

The current Lawrence could not only make fun of the tail Horo was so proud of quite easily, he even frequently used it as his own lap furnace.

“After all, the fur on your tail is so dense and neat, just placing it under the covers would make it as warm as a mountainous pile of fur pieces.”

Just as Lawrence had predicted, Horo gave a proud puff from her nose before withdrawing her tail back underneath the covers with a look on her face that seemed to say, “Yea, I give up.”

"By the way, have we not reached the town yet? We will arrive today, will we not?"

“We just need to follow this path along the river, and we'll be there in no time," Lawrence gestured as he spoke.

"Finally, I will have something hot to eat. I do not desire to eat any more cold porridge in this freezing atmosphere. No matter what is said, it would be too annoying."

Even Lawrence, who was surely more accustomed to eating bad food than Horo was, had to agree.

Even though eating was among the only recreations one could indulge in while traveling, when winter came, even this lost most of its pleasurable aspects.

Because in the harsh, bitterly-cold winter days, the only choices were to munch on some hard and bitter bread made from black wheat, or to add some water to the bread to make porridge, and as for accompanying dishes, there were only some nearly-tasteless pieces of dried meat along with the representatives of storage-resistant vegetables – onions and garlic.

Horo, being a wolf, was uneasy about the strongly-flavored onions and garlic, and also hated eating the bitter black wheat bread, so the only choice she had was to quickly swallow the porridge made from bread and water.

To the gluttonous Horo, this was perhaps nothing less than torture.

“Yeah, the town we're heading to is holding a large town-wide fair, so there should be plenty to eat. Look forward to that.”

“Oh~but you, are you sure that your wallet can afford the extra expenses?”

A week ago in the Church city of Rubinhagen, Lawrence’s greed had led him to fall into a trade company’s malicious trap. At one point, he even believed that he would go bankrupt. After many twists and turns, although Lawrence was able to narrowly avoid bankruptcy, he was ultimately unable to make a profit, and even suffered some losses.

As for the battle equipment that had been the cause of all this, after considering the difficulty of transporting the goods in the winter season as well as the possibility that the crash of its market price would be even more severe farther north, Lawrence ended up selling the equipment in Rubinhagen at next-to-nothing prices.

Although Horo was always begging Lawrence to buy this or buy that, she still showed some concern for the state of his wallet.

Indeed, she was arrogant and often enjoyed giving people a hard time, but deep down she was still a kind soul.

“If it's just buying food for you, that's still within a reasonable budget. Don’t worry about it.”

Even so, Horo still wore a worried expression on her face, "Mmm..."

“Besides, in the end I was still unable to buy honey-soaked peaches for you in Rubinhagen, so you can think of this as making up for that.”

“Really...but...”

“What is it?”

"Even though half of my fears is over your wallet, the other half is over myself. If I were to spend money on feasting, would it mean having to stay at a lesser inn?

“Now I get it,” Lawrence thought, and smilingly replied:

“Well, I am planning to stay at an inn of decent standard. Don’t tell me you wanted to say that if the room doesn’t have a furnace, you’d refuse to stay in it!”

“I was not planning to ask for so much. But, I would not want you to use buying food for me as an excuse…”

“Excuse?”

In order to readjust the path of his horse, which had gone a bit astray, Lawrence shifted his line of sight toward the front, after which Horo moved her face close to his ear and said softly:

“I would not want you to use not having enough money as an excuse to choose a room with only one bed. I would like to sleep comfortably alone once in a while.”

Unconsciously, Lawrence pulled a bit too hard on the reins. His horse whinnied a displeased response.

However, Lawrence had already become accustomed to Horo’s constant teasing, and it was easy for him to recover his balance.

Lawrence feigned calmness, and responded with a cold expression on his face:

“That's quite something for someone with such a carefree snore to say.”

Lawrence’s counter caught Horo off guard. She pouted her lips with a sour expression on her face, and shifted her body away.

Lawrence couldn’t possibly give up such a chance, and thus continued his assault:

“Besides, you're not even my type.”

Horo possessed a pair of ears capable of distinguishing between lie and truth.

What Lawrence had just said was, just barely, not a lie.

Horo seemed to comprehend this. In an instant she was frozen with a look of surprise on her face.

“You should be able to tell that I'm not lying.”

Thus, Lawrence delivered the final blow.

Although Horo could only stare in blank amazement for a while, her mouth still moved slightly, as if trying to come up with a way to counter. Soon, however, she seemed to realize that such a reaction had already signaled the reality of her defeat.

Beneath her hood, her ears drooped visibly, and she lowered her face with a dejected look. Lawrence had won a long-anticipated victory.

Even so, this wasn’t a real victory.

Although Horo not being his type was not exactly a lie, it wasn’t entirely the truth either.

All that remained was for Lawrence to tell her this in order to complete his revenge for always being played in the palm of her hand.

Whether it was the defenselessly-sleeping Horo, or the Horo filled with smiles and laughter, Lawrence was very much fond of her.

As well as the way she looked when depressed.

In other words...

"You like me the way I am right now, do you?

Lawrence’s eyes accidentally met Horo’s upward gaze, and couldn't help blushing.

“Dumb ass (note: “ass” as in “donkey,” similar but not exactly the same as the modern “dumbass.”), the more foolish the male, the more he likes weak females. You do not seem to realize that the only weak thing is your brain and that of the likes of you.”

Revealing a pair of sharp teeth and wearing a mocking expression on her face, Horo had instantly turned the tide and gained the advantage.

“If you wish me to play the role of the weak princess, you should at least be a mighty knight...but what, do you think, is the real situation?”

Horo pointed a finger at Lawrence, who could not think of any way to respond.

In his mind, Lawrence recalled the many scenes that served as a painful reminder of who he really was - not a chosen knight, but a mere traveling merchant.

Looking at Lawrence’s reaction, Horo gave a sigh of satisfaction, but suddenly seemed to recall something. With an index finger against her chin, she spoke:

“Hmm. Come to think of it, it seems that you did once become a knight.”

Lawrence made an attempt to search his drawer of memories, wondering if he’d ever behaved in such a manly way.

“What? You forgot already? Did you not stand in the front and protect me? When we fell into the conflict of the silver coins, in the sewers.”

“…Oh, that.”

Although Horo had helped him recall the memory, Lawrence had a hard time associating it with knightly behavior. After all, his clothes were all tattered back then, and his body, which he’d barely managed to keep upright, had been shaking uncontrollably.

“Knightly behavior does not necessarily require great physical strength. However, that was the first time that I had ever been protected by someone.”

Horo smiled a bit shyly, shifting her body close to Lawrence. The speed at which Horo could switch moods still inspired fear within Lawrence. Faced with such a Horo, even a merchant who could easily change his attitude according to profit and loss would run away afraid.

Even so, Lawrence had nowhere to run.

“You will no doubt cherish me in the future, will you not?”

The wolf before him was like a kitten, revealing a tender and innocent smile. That was a smile that no man doing business in solitude for decades was blessed enough to behold. However, that was a fake smile. Horo was still angry at Lawrence for having said that she wasn’t his type. In fact, she was probably extremely angry .

Lawrence was deeply aware of Horo’s wrath.

“…Sorry.”

Thus, Lawrence’s apologetic words seemed to cast a magic spell, causing Horo to reveal a true smile and sit up straight before producing a giggle from deep within her throat.

“This is exactly what I like about your personality.”

Such a mutually-teasing and joking interaction was just like two young pups fooling around.

In the end, this kind of distance was most suited to these two after all.

“Selecting a room with only one bed is fine. But, the meals need to have two servings.”

“Got it, got it.”

The weather wasn’t even hot, but Lawrence was sweating profusely. He wiped away the annoying sweat as he answered. Horo, hearing his answer, began laughing once again.

“So, anything good to eat around here?”

“Are you talking about local staples? It probably can’t be called a staple, but around here…”

“Fish, correct?”

Horo said what Lawrence was just about to answer, which quite surprised him.

“That's quite something for you to know. There is a lake west of this area. The fish transported from over there can more or less count as a staple. In addition, the rivers that flow through the region are a source of a great variety of fishes. But, how did you know?”

Even though Horo could easily read people’s emotions, she couldn’t possibly see one’s exact thoughts could she?

“Mm, since just now, the wind has been carrying over a scent. Look!”

Upon saying this, Horo pointed with her right hand in the direction opposite the river.

“That team of horse-drawn carts is probably transporting fish.”

Hearing this, Lawrence spotted for the first time a team of horse-drawn carts emerging from behind a hill in the distance. With his vision, he could at best make out the number of carts present, but certainly couldn’t tell what they held. From the team’s direction of travel, it seemed that although it was parallel to the path on this side, they would eventually meet at some point.

“Speaking of fish dishes, I just cannot imagine what there could be. Something like the eel we had in Rubinhagen?”

“The eel was simply fried in oil. With dishes demanding more effort to prepare, the fish may be steamed with vegetables or meats, roasted after adding a bit of vanilla, or prepared in a variety of other ways. There's also another kind of food, which is exclusive to the town that we will be arriving at soon.”

“Oh~”

Horo’s eyes gave off a dazzling glint. Beneath the covers, the tail that had been used in place of a lap furnace was wagging excitedly.

“I’ll tell you what it is once we reach the town. Look forward to it.”

Hearing Lawrence’s teasing, Horo blew up her cheeks slightly, but of course this level of teasing wasn’t enough to make her angry.

“How about buying some fish for dinner if the fish in the horse-drawn carts are of good quality?”

“I'm no good at determining the quality of fish. Ever since I once suffered losses over it, I have not dared to touch fish.”

“Nothing to worry about, there are my eyes and nose.”

“Can you determine the quality of fish?”

“In that case, would you also like me to determine your quality?”

Horo said in a mischievous tone. Lawrence could only surrender.

“Give me a break. But if there is good fish, we’ll buy some and have it prepared at a store. It is also cheaper that way.”

“Yea, leave it to me.”

Although Lawrence couldn’t tell where they would meet up with the team of carts that were possibly carrying fish, he realized that the distance between them was shortening, and therefore allowed his horse to continue along the path.

Lawrence glanced sideways at Horo, whose gaze was upon the distant carts, and thought- Come to think about it, when Horo mentioned using her eyes and nose to determine quality, she probably meant doing so based on appearance and smell.

If she could determine the quality of fish, then perhaps she really could do so for humans as well.

Even though Lawrence immediately realized the ridiculousness of his thoughts and smiled to himself, he couldn’t help but feel a bit concerned.

Trying not to be conspicuous, Lawrence drew his nose close to his right shoulder and sniffed. He thought that, despite living a traveling lifestyle, he shouldn’t smell overly bad. Besides, Horo herself hadn’t had a change of clothes.

While thinking about this as if trying to find an excuse, he felt someone’s gaze land on his left cheek.

Though Lawrence would have preferred not to meet that gaze, he nevertheless turned, to find Horo laughing silently.

“Seriously. You are so cute. It is most shameful for me (note: the literal translation is: “Where should I place my face,” which is basically the same as the idea of “losing face.”).”

Horo said with an incredulous look on her face. In the end, Lawrence was left speechless.

=====================================================================================================

The river water flowed along very slowly, seeming almost immobile. Beside the river, the sight of people stopping to allow their horses to rest and get a drink of water, or to rearrange their load, began to appear. Among them was also a rare, traveling sword smith, who placed an upright sword off to the side in place of a sign and rested a cheek upon an arm over his stand, yawning boredly.

In addition, there was also the sight of a boatman arguing with a knight leading a horse upon a flat-bottomed boat parked along the side of a bridge. From the knight’s simple equipment, it seemed possible that he was a messenger on his way to some fortress. Most likely, the boatman was unwilling to set out because of the insufficient number of horses, hence the argument between them.

Because Lawrence had had the experience of losing his temper with an uncooperative boatman while in a hurry, the scene brought a strained smile to his face.

What had been a seemingly endless stretch of wild plains had gradually become a series of cultivated fields. Scattered farmers working in the fields could be seen ahead.

This change of scenery, flowing with signs of life, was something Lawrence could never get enough of. Just then, they finally caught up with the team of fish-transporting horse-drawn carts that they’d spotted earlier.

The team consisted of three carts aligned with one another, each drawn by two horses. The carts did not have driver seats installed. An elegantly dressed young man sat inside the very last cart, and three men, probably hired workers, controlled the horses as they walked.

Lawrence’s first thoughts were how impressive the two-horse carts seemed, but upon closer inspection, he realized that the purpose of the two-horse arrangement was not at all to impress.

Upon the carts were placed barrels and wooden crates large enough to contain an entire person. A few of the barrels were filled with water for the fish to swim in.

Any fish that had not been treated with salt, regardless of species, was considered high grade. Needless to say, live fish were even more so.

Although the transport of live fish was indeed not something one would see everyday, what really surprised Lawrence was something else.

What surprised him was that the owner of this three-cart train transporting such high-quality goods was a merchant even younger than himself.

“Buying fish?”

The man sitting in the last cart replied from beneath his hood with the voice of a youngster after Lawrence had addressed him. He wore a greased leather coat commonly worn by fishmongers.

“Could you perhaps spare a few fish and sell them to me?”

Lawrence asked after exchanging places with Horo. Hearing this, the young fishmonger immediately replied:

“I am terribly sorry. The fish we are selling have already been assigned to buyers.”

The unexpected answer came as a surprise to Lawrence. His reaction was perceived by the young man, who promptly removed his hood to reveal his face.

Beneath the hood was a face matching the voice Lawrence had just heard, that of a youngster. Perhaps calling him a youngster was exaggerating a bit, but the face appeared to be less than twenty years old. Besides, fishmongers were for the most part rugged and tough-looking men, but the man standing before Lawrence was unusually slender. His blond hair, which danced in the blowing wind, gave off an air that could even be described as elegant.

Nevertheless, if the man was able to transport three carts-worth of fresh fish at once, then he was certainly not a merchant to be underestimated.

“Pardon me, could you be a traveling merchant?”

Although Lawrence couldn’t tell whether the man’s amiable smile was inherent or the smile of a businessman, he decided that whether it was the former or the latter, the only appropriate response was to smile back.

“Yes, I have just come from Rubinhagen.”

“I see. In that case, if you just follow the path we came from for about half a day, you will reach a lake. If you just consult with the fishermen there, you should be able to purchase some fish. The quality of carp caught during this season is quite good.”

“Oh, no, I am not buying for business; I was just hoping you could spare a few fish for tonight’s supper.”

The young fishmonger’s smile suddenly turned into an expression of surprise, perhaps because this was the first time he’d ever heard anyone make such a request.

For fishmongers transporting salt-treated fish over a long distance, a request like this was quite common, but for one who was merely traveling between a town and a nearby lake, this was perhaps not something he’d be used to.

However, the young man’s surprised expression quickly changed to one of contemplation.

Most likely, the expression was due to a situation contrary to his usual business sense, and he was pondering over the possibility of turning it into a new kind of business.

“You really are someone who is passionate about doing business,”

said Lawrence. Upon hearing this, the young fishmonger snapped back to reality with an audible exclamation, and smiled embarrassingly.

“Pardon me. Ah yes, you want to buy fish for tonight’s supper, which means you will be staying in Kumerson tonight?”

“Yes, I am here to see the grand winter fair and festival.”

Kumerson was the name of the town Lawrence was heading to. The town was currently holding the town-wide fair that took place each summer and winter.

In addition, in junction with the winter fair was a festival held at the same time.

Although Lawrence was unfamiliar with the details of the festival, he’d once heard it was a pagan festival radical enough to make a member of the Church faint.

The region arrived at after traveling six days north from the Church city of Rubinhagen, which even today functioned as a supply base for punitive expeditions against pagans to the north, was a place where the relationship between Orthodox Christians and pagans was not as simple as in southern countries.

The vast region extending north from Rubinhagen was controlled by the country of Puroanie, whose ruling class included many pagans. As such, it was only natural for Christians and pagans to coexist in the same town.

Kumerson belonged to the powerful aristocrats of Puroanie. It was a large-scaled town built with the purpose of promoting a prosperous economy while distancing itself from complex religious issues.

Consequently, there was no Orthodox church in Kumerson, and missionary activities by members of the Orthodox religion were forbidden there. It was considered a taboo to ask whether the festival held there was Orthodox or pagan, and usually it was simply explained as a traditional festival belonging to Kumerson.

Because the festival itself was a rare occasion, and the fact that pagans could also come freely, this so-called Lazura festival seemed to attract a startling number of people each year.

Since Lawrence usually only came to Kumerson during summertime, he had never before witnessed the festival.

Lawrence had purposefully planned to arrive early according to what he had heard concerning the festival, but it seemed like he’d been overly naïve.

“May I ask whether you have already booked an inn to stay at?”

The young fishmonger inquired with a look of concern.

“The festival does not start until the day after tomorrow right? You are not trying to tell me there are no more places available are you?”

“That is exactly the case.”

Horo shifted slightly next to Lawrence. Perhaps she was worried about not being able to book an inn.

Although unsure of how it would be for Horo in wolf form, Horo in human form was just as susceptible to cold as any human. She was no doubt already sick of camping out in such a cold season.

Even so, Lawrence had an alternative plan should this be the case.

“In that case, I do believe the town’s foreign firms arrange inns for their members each year in coordination with the festival. I’ll just ask the firm for help.”

Requesting help from the foreign firm would most likely mean being thoroughly questioned concerning his relationship with Horo, so Lawrence would have preferred not to, but it seemed like the only remaining option under the circumstances.

“Ah, so you are a merchant belonging to a guild. Pardon me, but may I inquire as to which guild that is?”

“The Rowen Trading Guild’s firm in Kumerson.”

The moment he heard this, the young fishmonger’s expression brightened up instantly.

“What a wonderful coincidence, I also belong to the Rowen Trading Guild.”

“Oh, this must be God’s guidance…oops, saying something like that is considered taboo in these parts huh?”

“Ahaha, it is quite alright, I am also a Christian from the Southern countries.”

The young fishmonger laughed for a moment before coughing lightly and continuing:

“Then, allow me to introduce myself. I am Fermi Amati, a fish merchant working in Kumerson. In business, I go by Amati.”

“I am traveling merchant Craft Lawrence. Likewise, I go by Lawrence.”

Though the two people both gave their names sitting on their carts, because their distance was within hand’s reach, they shook hands directly.

With that done, the next thing was for Lawrence to introduce Horo.

“This is my traveling companion, Horo. We are traveling together for a particular reason, but we are not married,”

Lawrence said with a smile. Horo, hearing this, leaned forward slightly and looked over at Amati with a smile.

Horo was indeed very charming when she was quiet and well-behaved.

Though Amati managed to reintroduce himself in a flustered manner, his cheeks had become bright-red.

“Is Miss Horo a nun?”

“Basically, she is a traveling nun.”

Going on a pilgrimage was not something restricted to devout males. Townswomen frequently made pilgrimages as well.

In addition, most women who were in the middle of a pilgrimage referred to themselves as traveling nuns. Compared to identifying themselves as town citizens on a pilgrimage, referring to themselves as traveling nuns was a more effective way of avoiding various problems.

However, because donning attire that would make one instantly recognizable as affiliated with the Church would pose problems upon entering Kumerson, people that were so dressed would habitually attach three feathers to their garments when entering town. As for Horo, she also had three brown, shabby-looking chicken feathers attached to her hood.

Although Amati, who had introduced himself as hailing from a Southern country, was young, he seemed to comprehend all of this instantly.
Amati did not question further, probably because he understood that there must have been a good reason for a traveling merchant to be traveling together with a young woman.

"Well then, I suppose running into problems every now and then can be considered as tests ordained by the heavens. The reason I say this is because, if there is need for only one room, then I may be able to arrange that, but unfortunately, arranging for two rooms would be somewhat difficult."

Amati’s proposal came as a surprise to Lawrence. Perceiving this, Amati smiled and continued:

“We belong to the same guild, so this must be God’s guidance. If I just ask an inn with which I have business associations to help out, I am sure they would be willing to spare a room. If you were to bring your female companion with you to request help from the foreign firm, surely the old faces would pester you without end.”

“Indeed, you are exactly right. But, would it really be fine to trouble you like this?”

“Of course. I am a merchant after all, so I am making this proposal for business purposes. In other words, I would like for you to enjoy plenty of delicious fresh fish during your stay at the inn.”

Being capable of holding a deal worth three cartloads of fish at such a young age, Amati was indeed no ordinary character.

This was exactly what was meant by “flexible and considerate.”

Lawrence’s feelings were half of bitter regret and half of thankfulness as he responded:

“You definitely have great business sense. Could you kindly arrange that then?”

“Aye, just leave it to me,”

Amati replied with a smile. For just a split second, his gaze shifted away from Lawrence.

Although Lawrence pretended not to notice, he knew that the gaze was directed toward Horo.

Lawrence began to wonder if Amati’s proposal was perhaps not for the sake of doing business at all but rather to show off his best side to Horo.

Seeing something like this inevitably brought a slight sense of superiority to Lawrence, who was traveling with Horo. However, he also knew that filling his mind with such useless thoughts would surely cause Horo to tease him even more.

Lawrence shook the extra thoughts from his mind, and focused on building deep relations with the young and outstanding merchant before him.

Not long after that, Lawrence and the rest arrived in Kumerson as the sun was beginning to set in the west.

=====================================================================================================

At the dining hall, the table was loaded with a variety of primarily fish and shellfish dishes placed around a large pot of hot soup made with carp slices and root vegetables at the center.

Perhaps more or less due to the influence of the fishmonger Amati, who had helped to arrange for the inn, the main course and other dishes present contrasted sharply with the meat-oriented dishes typical to southern countries. Among these, the steamed snails proved to be the most eye-catching.

Because it was commonly said that sea-snails (note: a.k.a. conches) could slow aging, whereas river snails were the source of abdominal pains, people living in regions farther south from Kumerson did not eat snails, although they did eat double-shelled shellfish. The Church even claimed that demons dwelt within snail shells, and warned people not to eat them.

However, rather than calling it a teaching of God written in the Scriptures (note: I don’t think the Bible actually mentions anything about this, but I could be wrong), it was probably more of a practical warning than anything else. Lawrence himself had once gotten lost during the course of his travels and, being unable to resist his unbearable hunger, fed on snails from a river, resulting in excruciating abdominal pain.

Ever since that experience, Lawrence hadn’t dared to touch another snail, be it from river or sea.

Luckily, the snails weren’t served in individual portions, and Horo seemed to enjoy them just fine.

Lawrence left all the food he dared not eat to Horo.

“Mmm…so this is what shellfish tastes like,”

Horo said, all the while stuffing herself with piece after piece of snail hooked out of the shell using the tip of a small knife borrowed from Lawrence. As for Lawrence, he was helping himself to a heavily-salted river barracuda.

“Careful. If you eat too much, you might get a stomachache.”

“Hmm?”

“Demons dwell within river snails. If you accidentally eat one, the consequences would be quite disastrous.”

Horo glanced at the snail she had just removed from its shell, tilted her head slightly, then popped it into her mouth.

“Who do you think I am? Determining the quality of wheat is not the extent of my ability.”

“Well, you even said it yourself that you once ate some red peppers with earthshaking consequences.”

Horo was a bit angered by what Lawrence had pointed out.

“It would be impossible even for me to determine taste purely from appearance. That thing was red all over, just like a ripe fruit,”

Horo said as she worked on removing another snail. Occasionally she would take a sip of the drink within her mug, then close her eyes tightly.

Because this region was not under the tight surveillance of the Church, distilled liquor, which the Church viewed as forbidden and had banned from public sales, was a common sight here.

Lawrence and Horo’s mugs were filled with a nearly transparent liquor known as “burning wine.”

“Should I order some sweet liquor for you?”

“.........”

Horo shook her head silently. The way she looked with her eyes tightly closed gave Lawrence the impression that he’d see a greatly swollen tail should Horo’s robe be removed.

At last, Horo managed to gulp down the wine. She gave a long sigh before wiping the corners of her eyes with the mouth of her sleeve.

Drinking what was also known as a “soul-shaking liquor,” Horo was of course not dressed as a nun. With a triangular kerchief tied to her head, she had on the appearance of a typical city girl.

Before supper, Lawrence had brought a changed Horo with him to thank Amati once again. The expression Amati showed back then was beyond hopeless. Not only Lawrence, but even the innkeeper looking on couldn’t help bursting into laughter.

And Horo, as if to increase her sins even more, put even more effort than usual into playing the fair maiden while expressing thanks to Amati.

If Amati were able to see the manner with which she ate right now, surely his dreams would be shattered within an instant.

"...sip. What a nostalgic taste."

Either because the liquor was too strong, or because the memories of her hometown had been stirred up, Horo seemed a bit teary-eyed as she said this.

Indeed, the farther north one went, the higher the amount of soul-shaking liquor.

“Even I’m clueless when it comes to distilled liquor with such high alcohol content.”

Horo, who had gotten tired of shellfish and occasionally ate from a roasted or stewed fish dish replied cheerfully:

“Appearance or shape is easily forgotten after ten years, but the taste or smell of something is not easily forgotten, even after many decades. The taste of this liquor is very similar to that of Yoitsu, and fills me with a sense of nostalgia.”

“Strong liquor is more common in the North after all. Did you always drink stuff like this?”

Lawrence asked after glancing at the wine in his mug and then at Horo. Horo, with a bit of roasted fish stuck to a corner of her mouth, replied, her face full of pride:

“Sweet liquor does not suit a wise wolf of such noble character, is not that so?”

Forget sweet liquor, Horo in human form looked like she was more suited to drinking honeyed milk, Lawrence thought, but smiled lightly in agreement anyway.

The wine’s taste had no doubt triggered a nostalgic remembrance of Horo’s hometown.

Although this was a delicious meal that she had not had the chance to enjoy for a long time, it was not the reason behind her smile.

Because of something beyond her expectations, Horo was deeply imprinted with the idea that she was getting closer and closer to Yoitsu. Just like a young maiden who’d received an unexpected gift, she was smiling from the depths of her heart.

Even so, Lawrence couldn’t help removing his gaze from Horo in her current state.

Lawrence was not worried about accidentally losing himself, watching her like this, and being teased about it later.

All this way, Lawrence had concealed from Horo the legend he’d heard that Yoitsu had long since been destroyed.

The reality of this made Horo’s innocent smile, sprouting from the remembrance of her hometown, as difficult to look upon as the blinding sun.

Still, Lawrence was unwilling to break the cheerful dining atmosphere that was so hard to come by.

In order to prevent Horo from seeing through his thoughts, Lawrence forcefully changed his mood, revealing a smile to Horo, who was just then reaching out for a piece of stewed carp.

“Looks like stewed carp really suits your tastes.”

“Yea, I did not know that cooked carp...was this delicious. One more bowl.”

Because the stewed carp was served in a large pot that was out of Horo’s reach, it was Lawrence who helped her to it. Every time he did so, more onions were added to his own wooden plate. It appeared that Horo couldn’t tolerate even cooked onions.

“Where have you ever eaten carp before? There shouldn’t be that many places where it is available.”

“Hmm? In a river. Carps are easy to catch because of their clumsy movement.”

So that’s how it was. Horo must have been in wolf form when she caught the fish.

“I’ve never had carp raw. Is it any good?”

“The scales get stuck in the teeth, and the bones are too numerous. I had always believed it was good, watching the small birds swallow it whole. Raw fish does not appeal to me.”

Lawrence tried to picture Horo biting loudly on a large carp from the anterior end.

Carps were famous for their long life spans. Besides referring to the carp as a sacred fish, the Church also called it a minion of the devil (note: ok, so it’s holy AND evil, whatever that means…). Consequently, carps were only eaten in the Northern regions.

Indeed, it would seem quite foolish to honor the slightly long-lived carp in a region that held wolves like Horo.

“Human-prepared food is indeed good. However, not only is the cooking good, but each handpicked fish is very fresh. That child Amati has a good eye for fish.”

“He’s very young, and the number of fish in his deal was quite amazing.”

“By contrast, what is it that you are carrying?”

Horo’s gaze suddenly turned cold.

“Huh? They’re nails. Like this table...it doesn’t have any...”

“Of course I know they are nails. What I meant was that you should have bought something more impressive. Or, have you been daunted by the failure at Rubinhagen?”

Lawrence, hearing this, couldn’t help but feel a bit angered, but seeing as how Horo had simply pointed out the truth, he had no way of refuting.

Because of his own greed, he had bought battle equipment at the astonishing price of twice his own worth, resulting in a crisis that almost led to bankruptcy and ending his days as a slave. Not only that, Lawrence had caused much trouble for Horo as well as caused her to suffer great shame.

Taking all this into account, Lawrence had finally chosen to buy about four hundred Trenni silver coins’ worth of nails, quite a conservative purchase. As a result, Lawrence was left with a fairly good amount of cash.

“Though the merchandise may not be so eye-catching, the profits should be pretty decent. Besides, my cart isn’t completely filled with unattractive items.”

Like a cat, Horo directed her gaze toward Lawrence holding a river barracuda bone in her mouth, her head slightly tilted.

Lawrence had come up with a good line.

He cleared his throat lightly, before opening his mouth to say:

“I have you on my cart.”

Although the line sounded rather affected, Lawrence himself seemed to think it was beautifully said, and couldn’t suppress an involuntary laugh.

Yet, even as he laughed, drank wine, and looked in Horo’s direction, he noticed that Horo had stopped what she was doing, and wore a look of resignation.

“...Well, I suppose this is the extent of your level.”

Then, having said this, Horo gave a sigh.

“It wouldn’t hurt to be just a bit more considerate you know!”

“As soon as a male is treated too kindly, he will quickly become conceited. If he were to become accustomed to this kind of treatment, so that the other is forced to hear the same words over and over again, how very tedious that would be.”

“Erh…...”

Lawrence decided that remaining silent simply wouldn’t do, and so disputed:

“Alright, then from now on I-”

“Dumb ass.”

Lawrence’s words were cut off.

“How much money is it worth for a male to behave kindly?”

“.......”

Silently, Lawrence drank some wine with pursed brows, but the hunting wolf refused to let him off the hook.

“Besides, whenever I appear dejected, you would want to treat me kindly, would you not?”

Watching Horo utter this with an innocent smile on her face, Lawrence was all out of ideas.

Horo was just way too cunning.

Lawrence stared at Horo with a look of resentment, upon which Horo returned a most benevolent smile.

=====================================================================================================

By the time Lawrence and Horo had finished their long-anticipated decent supper and returned to their room, the streets outside the inn had at last quieted down.

Although it had already been sunset when they arrived in Kumerson, the level of chaos within the town far exceeded Lawrence’s imagination.

If they hadn’t run into Amati, Lawrence most certainly would have had to head to the foreign firm and request its help in arranging an inn. Not only that, he may have ended up having to stay in a room at the firm.

Arrays of wheat dolls of unknown origin and wooden sculptures could be seen everywhere in Kumerson’s streets. Not only the streets, even the narrow alleys were filled with bands and clowns leading spectators round and round.

In a large plaza located at the southern end of Kumerson, the marketplace, whose business hours had been greatly extended, was still open. The entire plaza was overflowing with a vitality fitting to the reputation of a town-wide fair. Not only that, even the craftsmen who were normally not permitted to sell merchandise had set up vending stands along the large streets outside the marketplace.

Lawrence opened the wooden window to cool off his body, which seemed to be burning up due to the effects of the strong liquor. Beneath the beautiful moonlight, Lawrence could see that a few street peddlers had already begun to wrap up.

The inn that Amati had arranged for Lawrence and Horo was a top-quality inn that was among Kumerson’s finest, an inn that Lawrence normally wouldn’t even consider staying at. Their room was on the second floor, and faced a large street extending north and south from the center of town. The inn itself was located near an intersection with another large street that ran east and west. As Horo had wished, the room contained two beds. However, Lawrence strongly suspected that such an arrangement was the result of Amati’s forcefully persistent efforts.

Although his guesses brought him a slight sense of superiority, Lawrence was still thankful to Amati for having arranged a place for them to stay, so he directed his gaze out the window and decided not to make any more blind guesses.

Out on the broad streets, it seemed like everyone was walking in staggers.

Lawrence smiled mildly and turned around to find Horo sitting cross-legged on her bed pouring some wine into a wooden mug, looking as if she still hadn’t had enough of drinking.

“I say you, if you end up in agony tomorrow, I won’t care. Have you already forgotten the painful hangover you had back in Pattio (a.k.a. Pazzio in some translations)?” said Lawrence.

“Mm-? Do not worry. Good liquor will not have side effects no matter how much you drink (note: kids, don’t try this at home). However, if I do not drink, my heart will suffer side effects, so how could I not drink?”

Having finished pouring, Horo took a happy sip, and bit a piece of dried salmon left over from supper.

Lawrence felt that if he just let Horo have her own way, she would no doubt eat and drink till she passed out with drunkenness. Yet, to Lawrence, Horo’s good mood was most welcome.

This was because there was something Lawrence had great difficulty telling Horo.

The reason Lawrence had altered his usual business route, coming to Kumerson which he normally only visited during the summer in the cold winter season, was of course because he was heading toward Horo’s hometown.

Even so, Lawrence had never asked Horo about the precise location of Yoitsu. Although Lawrence had heard the name of the town mentioned before, it was only part of a legend, and so he was unsure of its exact geographical location.

The reason Lawrence had not questioned Horo about its exact location was because whenever Yoitsu was mentioned, Horo would always show a nostalgic smile but subsequently appear forlorn after remembering how great a distance they were from Yoitsu both time and space-wise.

Although Lawrence thought himself feckless, even this reason alone was enough to make him hesitate about bringing up the subject of her hometown.

However, Lawrence felt that Horo would probably not be saddened so much if the subject was brought up right now. Thus, Lawrence made his decision, sat down at the desk against the wall, and said:

“Oh yeah, before you pass out with drunkenness, there’s something I want to talk to you about.”

Horo’s exposed ears and tail showed an immediate response.

Her gaze was a step later in turning to Lawrence.

“What is it?”

The clever wolf seemed to detect from Lawrence’s tone that his intention was not in making conversation. A faint smile surfaced from the corners of her mouth, a clear indicator of her current good mood.

Lawrence slowly opened his heavy lips and said:

“It’s about your hometown.”

Hearing Lawrence cut right to the subject thus, Horo suddenly laughed silently and took a sip of wine.

Lawrence had been certain that Horo’s expression would turn serious, so her reaction took him quite by surprise.

Lawrence was just wondering whether Horo was already drunk when she gulped down the liquor in her mouth and spoke:

“You do not know where it is after all. I figured as much, and worried about when you were going to ask me about it.”

Having said this, Horo looked smilingly at her reflection in the mug as she continued with a sigh:

“You must believe that bringing up any topic related to Yoitsu would cause me grief, correct? Do I really look that fragile?

Lawrence had planned to point out the time she cried over a dream about her hometown, but figured that she was probably aware of this herself. Horo’s tail seemed to be wagging happily.

“No, not at all,” he replied.

“Dumb ass, you are supposed to say “yes” in times like these.”

Horo seemed to have gotten the answer she wanted. She seemed even happier as she wagged her tail.

“You concern yourself over such strange things. You managing to bring up this topic must mean you felt it was alright after seeing my reaction at supper? Seriously…such a softy.”

Horo smiled a bit embarrassingly as she drank and talked.

“To me, your considerateness is not altogether unpleasant. But, perhaps I should say that foolish look of yours is interesting to look at. If you had continued to remain silent, only to find out that you had gone in the wrong direction after already reaching the North, what would you have done then?”

Lawrence replied with a shrug. He continued to reveal his purpose:

“In order to prevent the foolish-looking me from taking the wrong path, could you tell me the location of Yoitsu?”

Horo took a sip of wine, and paused briefly.

Then, she gave a soft long sigh.

“To be honest, I do not remember it clearly.”

As if to cut off Lawrence’s “Don’t joke around,” Horo continued:

“If the direction is needed, I can tell that right away. It is over there.”

Lawrence looked in the direction that Horo had quickly pointed to, and understood immediately that she meant north.

“However, I cannot remember at all how many peaks need to be scaled, rivers passed, and plains traversed. I believed that I would naturally remember once we got close. Is that not alright?”

“You don’t have any clues to find the location? The path doesn’t just head in a straight line, and it’ll be very difficult finding a reliable map once we get to the North. Some locations can’t even be reached without taking roundabout paths. Do you remember the names of any nearby towns? We might be able to use those as clues, " said Lawrence.

Horo pondered for a moment, and said with an index finger against her temple:

“The town names I can recall are Yoitsu and Nooshira. There was also…uhm, what was it…Pi…”

“Pi?”

“Pire, Piro…yes, Piromorden.”

Seeing Horo’s cheerful expression, as if she had gotten out something stuck in her chest, Lawrence said with a slight tilt of his head:

“Never heard of such a town. Any others?”

“Uhm- there were indeed a number of towns, but not all of them with names like today. We just needed to say a town was on the other side of a certain mountain to know its location, so there was no need to give names.”

Indeed, Lawrence had been surprised by this the first time he went to the North to do business. Back then, Lawrence had arrived at a certain town, to find out that its name was known only to travelers. Neither the town residents nor the people living in the outskirts knew the name of the town.

Lawrence had even encountered an elderly citizen who said that naming a town causes it to become the target of evil deities.

The so-called “evil deities” must have been referring to the Church.

“Well, let’s just use Nooshira as a starting point then. If it’s Nooshira, then I still know the location,” said Lawrence.

“That is a nostalgic name. Do hot waters still spring from that region?”

“I’ve heard that although it is a pagan town, many bishops and kings still secretly travel great distances to bathe appreciatively in its hot springs. There’s a rumor that, because of its hot springs, Nooshira is exempt from attacks by anti-pagan armies,” Lawrence explained.

“After all, only the hot springs there are not part of anyone’s domain,”

Horo said with a smile, then followed up with “In that case” before clearing her throat softly.

“If this were Nooshira, then it would be in that direction.”

Horo was pointing to the southwest. Lawrence loosened up slightly, seeing as how Horo had not pointed farther north.

If it was located even farther north than Nooshira, then it would no doubt be a place where snow wouldn’t melt even when summer came.

Even so, the scope was still too large if all that was known was that it was southwest of Nooshira.

“How long would it take to get from Nooshira to Yoitsu?” asked Lawrence.

“At my speed, it would take two days. For a human…I do not know."

Lawrence remembered riding on Horo’s back near Rubinhagen. Surely Horo could easily and swiftly traverse unpaved regions.

With that in mind, the scope would indeed be too large using Nooshira as a starting point for investigation. Searching for a particular town within that scope, or possibly even a small village, would be like looking for a needle in a desert. Precisely because Lawrence was a traveling merchant, whose work involved traveling among towns scattered throughout the vast world, he understood the difficulty of the task all too well.

Besides, there was mention in the legend Lawrence had heard of Yoitsu’s destruction by a great bear demon.

Should the legend be true, finding the ruins of a town that had been destroyed centuries ago would be impossible.

Lawrence was not an aristocrat, who could pass all of his days in leisure. If he were to stray from his usual business route and linger in other regions, he could last half a year at best. Besides, his failure in Rubinhagen had placed him even further away from his dream of opening up his own town shop and consequently, he had even less time to lose.

Just as Lawrence was pondering these things, the words that had formed in his mind flowed naturally from his mouth:

“Couldn’t you go back by yourself from Nooshira? You know the direction don’t you?”

If the distance between Nooshira and Yoitsu was only about two days, then as Horo had said, she would surely remember the way once she was near.

Having considered this, Lawrence had said what he did without any other intention. However, as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he realized that he had erred.

Because Horo was looking at him with a stunned expression.

A look of surprise surfaced on Lawrence’s face. At the same moment, Horo looked away.

“Yea…yes. If I got to Nooshira, I would no doubt remember the way back to Yoitsu.”

Having said this, Horo gave a forced smile. Just as Lawrence was wondering what was going on, he suddenly exclaimed audibly.

Horo had once said, at the estuary town of Pattio, that loneliness was fatal.

Loneliness inspired this much fear for Horo. Although Lawrence had meant no ill, Horo was still prone to taking it in a negative way. Besides, she had had a lot to drink.

It was possible that Horo would even interpret it as a sign that Lawrence was getting tired of searching for her hometown. Lawrence quickly added:

“Wait a minute, don’t take it negatively. If you could reach it in two days, then I could just wait for you in Nooshira.”

“Yea, that would be enough. You will take me straight to Nooshira? I was hoping to see a few more towns.”

The dialogue had been joined together seamlessly. Yet, Lawrence felt a bit disappointed, because he perceived that the seamless joining was the result of Horo’s quick-witted reaction.

In spite of the harmony on the surface, there was divergence beneath.

It had been hundreds of years since Horo left her hometown. Just as what Lawrence had heard in the legends, Horo had no doubt at least thought of the possibility that Yoitsu no longer existed, and even if she hadn’t, the number of years she had seen was itself sufficient to bring about huge changes to the world. Surely Horo’s heart was filled with uncertainty.

Horo must have been afraid of going to her hometown alone.

The innocent smile she had shown when the taste of wine had reminded her of Yoitsu, perhaps that was precisely an opposite reaction triggered by her uncertainty.

Pondering this for a moment, it became easy to understand Horo’s mentality. Lawrence felt deeply regretful over his careless remark.

“Listen, I’ll do everything within my ability to help you. What I said just now was-”

“Did I not just say how much it is worth for a male to behave kindly? You, do not be so considerate, it will be troublesome for me.”

Horo’s forced smile was mixed with a troubled expression. Setting her mug under the bed, she continued:

“I am so terrible, always judging everything by my own standards. After all, in the blink of an eye, you and everyone else will already be old. I always seem to forget that with such a brief lifespan, how important a single year must be.”

The moonbeams projected through the wooden window shrouded Horo’s body. In that instant, the image before Lawrence seemed almost an illusion, so that he hesitated to approach. He was afraid that Horo would vanish as a dispersing cloud of mist if he got too close.

Horo at last lifted her face, which had been facing down ever since she set down her mug, and sure enough, she still wore a troubled smile.

“You really are such a softy. Such an expression really troubles me a great deal.”

What was the best thing to say in this situation? Lawrence could not formulate the appropriate words in his mind.

At this moment and place, it was clear that a divergence had formed between the two.

Yet Lawrence could not find the words to fix this divergence. Even if he were to come up with a lie, it would be useless against Horo.

Most importantly, Horo’s words had made it even more difficult for Lawrence to say anything. Lawrence couldn’t bring himself to say something like, “No matter how long it takes, I’ll find Yoitsu and take you there.” Merchants were overly-practical creatures, practical to the point of not being able to utter such a line. To Lawrence, the centuries-old Horo was too far-away an existence.

“It is I who have forgotten the obvious. Because it has been so comfortable by your side, I accidentally...became a bit spoiled,”

Horo said with a shy smile, her ears trembling slightly in embarrassment. Such maiden-like talk perhaps came from the bottom of her heart.

Yet, hearing this did not make Lawrence happy at all.

Because Horo’s words seemed almost like a farewell.

“Heh, it seems like I am drunk. Must to bed, else I do not know what other things I will end up saying.”

Horo had not fallen into silence. The way she talked as if to herself made it seem all the more like she was simply pretending to be strong.

Yet till the very end, Lawrence had been unable to speak to Horo.

The one thing Lawrence could do was to be mindful that Horo didn’t pack up and leave once everything had settled into a dead sullenness. Although he didn’t think this would actually happen, he also felt on the other hand that Horo seemed like someone who would do such a thing.

However, Lawrence felt so powerless for only being able to do so much, and wanted badly to yell at himself loudly.

The night deepened noiselessly.

Through the closed wooden window could be heard the merry laughter of a drunkard, but hearing this only multiplied Lawrence’s sense of emptiness.

Chapter 2

t is said that, even under the most worrisome circumstances, a merchant will always manage to fall asleep at night.

Even though Lawrence had been worrying constantly about whether or not Horo would leave alone, when he came to, the sound of singing birds could already be heard through the wooden window.

Although Lawrence wasn’t one to lose his composure and jump up from his bed in a flustered manner, when he had directed his gaze toward the adjacent bed and made sure that Horo had not left, he let out a sigh of relief.

Lawrence got out of bed, opened the wooden window, and poked his head outside. It was already quite cold inside, but the morning air outside was even more so. Lawrence’s exhaled breaths appeared whiter than mist.

However, the sky outside was clear and brilliant, a morning like a crystal.

People had already begun appearing in the large street in front of the inn. As Lawrence watched the town merchants, who woke up even earlier than the early-waking traveling merchants, he went through a mental checklist of the entire day’s agenda before uttering an “Alright” to drive his motivation.

Though not exactly to make up for the previous night’s failure, Lawrence felt that in order to fully enjoy the festival that would start the next day with Horo, it was best to take care of all the trivial matters today.

“First I have to sell off the merchandise I brought from Rubinhagen,” Lawrence thought as he turned around to face the interior.

Although a night had already gone by, Lawrence was still feeling a bit heavy-hearted, but he still intended to wake up his companion who was as yet still fast asleep, and so approached the bed. At this moment, he suddenly gave a frown.

Because Horo frequently slept till noon like an aristocrat, Lawrence wasn’t much concerned over the fact that she was still sleeping, but he had suddenly noticed something.

Horo wasn’t producing the carefree snore that she usually did.

“It couldn’t be…” Lawrence thought to himself and reached forth with his hand. Horo seemed to have noticed. The covers over her body moved slightly.

Lawrence lifted the covers gently.

Then let out a sigh.

Horo’s face appeared beneath the covers, her expression frailer than that of an abandoned kitten.

“You got another hangover?”

Because it was painful for Horo to move her head, she could only respond by moving her ears slowly.

Lawrence wanted very much to say something to scold Horo, but having recalled the happenings of the previous night, he swallowed his words. Besides, Lawrence didn’t think Horo would have paid attention anyway.

“I’ll prepare a jar of water later, and a pail just in case. You just be good and sleep.”

Lawrence intentionally emphasized the words “be good,” but Horo was still only able to respond by moving her ears weakly.

Even if he said it a thousand times, it would be impossible for Horo to simply be good and do whatever he said. However, seeing as how she was in such pain, it was probably unlikely that she would drag herself outside. Therefore, she couldn’t possibly pack up and leave in Lawrence’s absence. Having considered this, Lawrence loosened up a bit.

Of course, Lawrence had already considered that this could just be Horo’s acting, but no matter how skilled the acting, it would be impossible to change one’s complexion

Denatus · Head of the Merchant's Guild Joined: 17 May 2008 Posts: 31

Chapter 2 Continued...

how skilled the acting, it would be impossible to change one’s complexion as well.
Lawrence carefully pondered all of these things. Without speaking to Horo, he swiftly made preparations for going out. Lawrence then once again approached Horo, who was incapable of even turning her body, and said to her:
“The festival doesn’t officially start until tomorrow. You don’t have to be anxious.”
Horo’s barely-alive and completely powerless face, which looked well beyond suffering, immediately showed a relieved expression. Seeing this, Lawrence couldn’t help laughing.
To Horo, the festival seemed of more concern than her suffering from a hangover.
“I’ll return for a bit around noon.”
Horo’s ears remained motionless; she didn’t seem to be interested in what was just said.
Lawrence could only smile a strained smile at such a bold reaction. At this moment, Horo opened her eyes slowly, a smile surfacing from the corners of her mouth.
Horo seemed to have done that on purpose.
Lawrence gave a shrug before pulling the covers over Horo’d head. He was certain that she was laughing at him under the covers.
Even if he was being laughed at, it seemed like the unhappy atmosphere of the previous night had not lasted till today, at which Lawrence was able to relax a bit. Before leaving the room, Lawrence turned to look in Horo’s direction once more. The front part of her tail that was exposed outside the covers wagged twice, as if waving.
“Guess I’ll buy something tasty for Horo on my way back,”
Lawrence thought as he quietly closed the door.
=====================================================================================================
Basically, the ruler of any town would not approve of people doing business before the bell toll signaling the opening of the marketplace had rung; this was especially true for doing business within the marketplace.
However, depending on the particular time or occasion, this rule was not always strictly enforced.
In Kumerson, during the period in which the town fair was being held, in order to alleviate the over-crowdedness following the opening of the marketplace, people were even half-encouraged to do business outside of normal business hours.
As a result, even so early in the morning, when the sun was just beginning to emerge from behind the buildings, a large number of merchants were already working in the marketplace, which took up over half the total area of Kumerson’s southern square.
Within the marketplace could be seen wooden crates and piles of gunnysacks placed in the corners, as well as pigs, chicken and other livestock tied in the small spaces between the merchandise and vending stands. In addition, due to the fact that within this region so distant from the sea, Kumerson was the largest fish-exporting town, live fish could also be seen swimming in large barrels much like the ones Amati had been transporting the previous day.
Just as Horo would be unable to remain calm when faced with arrays of food vendors, Lawrence had naturally become excited in the face of such a great variety of merchandise.
How much profit could be gained by transporting that item to that town? The quantity of that item is so large, which means it must be in oversupply somewhere, so its price should have lowered? Thoughts as these continually surfaced in Lawrence’s mind.
When Lawrence had first become a traveling merchant, because he lacked knowledge about the prices of the various merchandise, he could only run about randomly in the marketplace. Now, however, he was able to discern a great number of things instantly.
Once a merchant had fully grasped the intricate netlike product relationship map, he became an alchemist (note: alchemists in this time period mainly tried to produce gold out of lesser metals. Thus, the implication here is that a merchant could produce money out of a good understanding of product relationships).
Lawrence couldn’t help becoming a bit drunk on this smart-sounding description, but he soon remembered his failure in Rubinhagen, which brought a strained smile to his face.
Constantly looking up greedily often caused one to misstep accidentally.
Lawrence took a deep breath to calm his frivolous spirit before regaining the reins and continuing further into the marketplace. The vending stand Lawrence had finally arrived at was already in business early in the morning just like any other. The owner of the stand used to be a traveling merchant just like Lawrence, and was a year different from Lawrence age-wise. However, he now owned a stand in the marketplace equipped with a roof. Despite his stand not being great in scale, he was, surely enough, a proper town-dwelling wheat merchant. Concerning this point, both the owner himself as well as others considered it a blessing from the goddess of fortune. As for the defining characteristic of town merchants in this region, it was trimming their facial hair so as to shape their faces like a square, and the facial hair on this owner’s face certainly had the right look.
The moment he realized Lawrence’s presence, the wheat merchant named Mark Cole blinked continuously in amazement, then revealed a smile and lightly raised his hand in greeting.
The merchant who had been talking business with Mark also turned his gaze toward Lawrence and nodded a greeting. Because chance encounters often led to good business prospects, Lawrence responded with his usual business smile, and gestured for the merchant to proceed with his business talk.
“Ri, si bon dia mito. Vant errje.”
“Haha. Pireje, bao.”
It seemed like the business talk was just ending. The merchant exchanged a few words with Mark in a language Lawrence didn’t understand before going off. Of course, the merchant hadn’t forgotten to show Lawrence a business smile as he was preparing to leave.
Lawrence memorized the merchant’s face so that he would recognize him should he encounter him again in another town.
Such small actions, accumulated over time, could potentially bring about unexpected profits.
Only when the merchant, who had apparently come from somewhere in the North to do business had disappeared in the crowd did Lawrence step down from his cart.
“Looks like I interrupted your business talk.”
“Not at all. That guy was just telling me passionately about the greatness of the god of Pitora Mountain. Good thing you came and saved me,”
Mark said as he sat on a wooden bench rolling up a sheet of goatskin paper, smiling with a look on his face that said he had just about had enough.
Like Lawrence, Mark was a merchant belonging to the Rowen Trading Guild. Their acquaintance resulted from coming to the same marketplace at the same time each year to do business. Because they had known each other since they were both just beginners in the trade, they were not so formal with each other in speech.
“If I’d known earlier, I wouldn’t have learned their language. Though those guys aren’t bad in character, as soon as they find out that someone knows their language, they start passionately proclaiming the grace of their local god.”
“Compared to a god who’s not even willing to take a step out of his gold-coin-filled shrine, perhaps a local god really does provide more grace,”
said Lawrence. Hearing this, Mark tapped gently on his head with the roll of goatskin paper, and replied with an easy smile:
“Haha, that must be it. Besides, I heard that most harvest deities are beautiful women.”
The image of Horo’s face appeared in Lawrence’s mind. He smiled and nodded in agreement.
Although, he kept the thought, “But with terrible personalities” to himself.
“But, let’s stop talking about such things, lest I get a scolding from my wife. Let’s talk business then. You did come to talk business, didn’t you?”
Mark’s casual conversational expression had transformed into a business expression. Though there was no need for formal speech between the two, their relationship was after all based upon the standpoint of calculating merchants. Lawrence changed to a serious expression as well before opening his mouth to speak:
“I brought some nails from Rubinhagen. Would you like to buy them?”
“Nails? I own a wheat store. Did you hear somewhere that people were starting to nail up wheat sacks?” Mark responded.
“I was thinking that many people from up north would be coming here to stock up on necessary supplies in preparation for the long winter. I just thought that you could perhaps sell some nails along with your wheat. As a countermeasure against the snow, nails are a must for repairing houses right?”
Mark’s line of sight circled once through the air before falling back on Lawrence.
“There is demand for it indeed, but nails huh…how many do you have?”
“120 three-patte (note: apparently a unit of measure for length) ones, 200 four-patte ones, and another 200 five-patte ones. In terms of quality, there’s an attached letter of guarantee issued by the Rubinhagen Blacksmith’s Guild.”
Mark scratched his cheek with the roll of goatskin paper and sighed softly. It was a habit of town merchants to tease people in this manner.
“10-and-a-half Rumiones and I’ll buy them from you,” he said.
“What’s the exchange rate of Rumiones, in terms of Trenni silver coins?”
“It was 34 right when the market closed yesterday. So that’s...357.”
“Too little.”
This amount was even lower than the amount Lawrence had spent in his purchase. Hearing Lawrence’s immediate reaction, Mark said with a frown:
“Haven’t you heard the news about the price crash of battle equipment? Because the Northern military expedition was canceled this year, swords and armor are all being sold at extremely low prices. In other words, the amount of melted metal has increased, so the market value of nails has probably fallen as well. Even ten Rumione could be considered expensive.”
Lawrence had already predicted that Mark would make such an argument, and so replied coolly:
“That’s only the case for southern regions, isn’t it? Even if the amount of metal that can be melted has increased, that doesn’t match the continuously-rising price of the raw material needed to melt metal. If you can find a place to melt metal in Puroanie during this season, then I’d sure like to see it with my own eyes. If anyone dared to do such a thing, I’m sure someone would split his head in half with a wood-splitting axe.”
When winter came, the supply of firewood in snowing regions would freeze. Consequently, melting metal for iron forging, which required huge amounts of firewood to be thrown into furnaces, did not occur during the winter season. If someone did forge iron in the winter, the price of firewood that served as the fuel would immediately skyrocket, and he would incur the furious curses of the town residents. That being true, even with the increase in supply of swords and armor that could be used as raw materials for making nails, the price of nails in this region would not be influenced.
Any merchant with some experience would possess this level of common sense.
Surely enough, Mark said with a malicious smile:
“Seriously. Please stop trying to sell nails to a wheat merchant will ya? If it were wheat, I’d be able to come up with a variety of reasons to haggle; but as for nails, that’s beyond my field.”
“Then, how about sixteen Rumione?” Lawrence offered.
“Too expensive. Thirteen Rumione.”
“Fifteen.”
“Fourteen-and-two-thirds.”
Mark, slightly shorter than Lawrence and neither fat nor thin, exerted an air akin to an unshakable pillar.
That was Mark’s way of showing that he would yield no further.
Demanding too forcefully would ruin their relationship, so Lawrence nodded and, reaching out his right hand said:
“This price settles it then.”
“Haha, that’s my good buddy.”
For Mark, this price was probably already yielding a lot.
Theoretically, under the identity of a wheat merchant in charge of a wheat shop, Mark was not permitted to buy or sell nails. Each guild had rules governing the types of merchandise that could be sold in each shop. When attempting to sell a new product, it was necessary to either acquire the permission of merchants already selling the same product or to share the profits with them.
Although at first glance this seemed like an unfair rule that would hinder the successful carrying out of business deals, in the absence of such a rule, large and wealthy companies would soon swallow up the entire market. The rule was established precisely to prevent such a situation.
“Then, do you want cash or credit?” Mark inquired.
“Oh, credit.”
“Excellent. A lot of places are charging cash this time of year. It’s such a pain.”
Although it was permissible for merchants to conduct deals using credit or written receipts, if person selling was a resident of another village or town who demanded cash for the imported goods, such a method would be invalid.
Yet, insufficient cash currency was a problem that afflicted all towns. With insufficient cash, the person buying would be unable to complete a business deal even if he otherwise possessed the financial resources necessary to buy the product. As for an illiterate farmer, a written receipt was good only for blowing his nose.
Out in the wilderness, a sword-wielding knight was the most powerful presence; in a town, however, the most powerful presence was one who possessed cash. This was perhaps the reason behind how the Church was able to gain such financial power. Being able to collect cash in the form of alms on a weekly basis, this would only be natural.
“Furthermore, credit is fine, but there’s something I’d like you to help me with,” said Lawrence.
Mark had stood up from his bench and was just preparing to go and pick up the nails from within the cart. Hearing Lawrence say this, he immediately turned his gaze toward Lawrence, making no attempt to conceal his wary look.
“It’s really not such a big deal. I plan on taking care of some business up north. Could you help me ask some Northerners about the roads and regions there? Like the customer just now, he was from the North wasn’t he?”
Hearing something unrelated to the gains and losses of business, Mark’s expression loosened up visibly.
Seeing Mark’s obviously intentional expression, Lawrence could only smile a strained smile. Mark must be using this chance to get a bit of payback for having just bought those nails at a price so advantageous to the other party, Lawrence thought to himself.
“Oh, if it’s something like that then it’s no problem at all. But in that case, it would’ve been easier for you just to come here in the summer like you did every other year. Seeing as how you’ve purposely decided to head north in the winter, I’m guessing it must be something really important huh,” said Mark.
“Aye, there’s something I need to take care of, but it doesn’t have to do with making money.”
“Hahaha, looks like even a continuously-moving traveling merchant can’t free himself completely from the world’s formalities. So, where do you plan to head to?”
“My destination is a place called Yoitsu. Have you heard of it?”
Mark tilted his head and, lifting a shrewd eyebrow, laid a hand on the edge of the cart and spoke:
“Haven’t heard of it. But, the towns and villages we haven’t heard of are probably as numerous as the number of hairs on a cow. All you need is to find someone who’s heard about it?”
“Oh, no no, I plan on heading to Nooshira first, so if could just try asking around for the location of Yoitsu,” Lawrence replied.
“Oh, got it. If it’s Nooshira you’re heading to, then you need to go through Doran Plain.”
“It’s easy communicating with you.”
Mark nodded as he slapped his chest, as if to say, “Just don’t worry and leave it to me.” If it was Mark, surely he’d be able to collect the information necessary for travel.
It was precisely with this expectation that Lawrence had come to sell nails to the wheat merchant Mark. However, in such a busy period, if he had only come to ask for assistance in collecting information, not only would it have troubled his conscience, Mark probably wouldn’t have been very happy about it either.
Taking this under consideration, Lawrence had come to sell nails to Mark. Lawrence knew well that Mark had associated blacksmiths. In other words, Mark could immediately resell the nails he had purchased from Lawrence to earn what would probably be a pretty decent profit.
In addition, Mark could even ask the buying party to pay part of the payment in cash when selling the nails. For a wheat merchant, this time of year was the last chance to make money, and compared to making slight profits, being able to obtain some hard cash was even more to be happy about.
As Lawrence had predicted, Mark readily agreed to help. And so, Lawrence had finished making the necessary preparations for gathering traveling information.
“Ah yes, there’s one more thing I wanted to ask you. Don’t worry, this’ll be over quickly.”
“Do I really look that stingy?”
Mark said with a strained smile. Lawrence smiled in response as well before speaking:
Does Kumerson have any chroniclers?”
Hearing this, Mark answered with an astounded expression:
“Chroni…cler? You mean those fellows who write town diaries all day long?”
Chroniclers referred to historiographers who received rewards from the Church or nobles for recording town or community histories.
But hearing Mark refer to them negatively as “fellows who wrote town diaries”, Lawrence couldn’t help laughing.
Besides, Lawrence was greatly amused by Mark’s not-entirely-fitting yet not-so-far-off-the-mark description.
“Surely they’d be angered if they heard you say that,” said Lawrence.
“All they have to do is sit in a chair and write words all day to earn money. It’s an annoying sight.”
“I’m sure they wouldn’t be so happy about being criticized by someone who managed to become a town shop owner under such fortuitous circumstances.”
Mark’s fortuitous experience was a famous story in the town.
Having perceived that Mark had run out words with which to argue, Lawrence changed his expression to a smile and spoke:
“So, are they any?”
“Hmm...I think so, but it’s better not to associate with them.”
Mark reached his hand into Lawrence’s cart to pick up the bags of nails as he continued:
“I heard they were regarded as infidels by the monastery of some region, and came here seeking refuge. I’m sure you already know there’re plenty of people here like that?”
Compared to the conflict between Christians and pagans, the town of Kumerson was more concerned with economic development and thus, the authority of the Church was naturally kept outside its gates.
Consequently, large numbers of natural scholars, thinkers, and infidels sought refuge in Kumerson.
“I just wanted to ask a few things. Chroniclers also collect things like local legends and myths right? I wanted to ask something related to that,” said Lawrence.
“Why would you be interested in stuff like that? So that you might have topics for conversation during your trip north?”
“That’s about right. So I was thinking, it probably wouldn’t be such a good idea to suddenly intrude on them. Do you happen to know anyone who could introduce me?”
Mark tilted his head slightly for a brief moment. Then, holding the bags of nails in one hand, he turned his head around and called out loudly.
A young boy walked out from behind a mountainous pile of wheat sacks within the shop. Since sometime unbeknownst to Lawrence, Mark had already become a merchant qualified to accept apprentices.
“There is a person. It’d be better if it were also someone from Rowen right?
Mark said as he handed a bag of nails to his apprentice. Seeing Mark like this, Lawrence’s desire to find Yoitsu as soon as possible and return to his usual business routine became more intense than ever.
However, if such a thought were perceived by Horo, things would become rather troublesome. Besides, he also didn’t want to part ways with Horo so soon.
Even Lawrence himself was unable to come to terms with these two conflicting moods. If he and Horo were able to live within the same time frame, even going a year or two without doing business wouldn’t matter much to him.
Yet, Lawrence’s life was far too brief.
“What is it?”
“Huh? Ah, nothing. Aye, someone from the guild would be better. Could you ask him to do an introduction for me?” replied Lawrence.
“Of course, something like this is no problem at all. I’ll help you out for free.”
Mark had placed extra emphasis on the words, “for free,” upon which Lawrence was unable to suppress a laugh.
“You need it taken care of quickly?” asked Mark.
“If possible, yes.”
“In that case, I’ll have the little guy make a trip. There’s an old face, a traveling merchant named Joey Bartose who should be at the foreign firm. He’s a daring man, always doing business with those people you least want to associate with. I remember he had regular dealings with a pagan cenobite (note: a member of a religious order living in a convent or community) who worked as a chronicler. Every year during the one week before and after the festival, the guy always seems to be on a long break. So if you just go to the firm at about noon, you should find him there, passed out with drunkenness.”
Even within the same guild, there were people like Lawrence who were traveling merchants, as well as those like Amati who did business mostly unrelated to his own. As a result, Lawrence often didn’t know the names and faces of other members of the guild.
Lawrence repeated the name, “Joey Bartose” once so as to imprint it within his mind.
“I got it, thanks a lot,” he said to Mark.
“Haha, how could I accept thanks from you for something so trivial? Let’s drop that subject. You’ll be staying in town till the festival’s over right? Why don’t you drop by my place and have a drink before you leave.”
“Aye, I’ll find time to go and hear you boast about yourself at your place. Think of it as repayment for my gratitude.”
Mark laughed silently, handed the last bag of nails to his apprentice and said with a sigh:
“But, even after becoming a town merchant, there’ve been countless worries and hardships. I’ve often thought of going back to being a traveling merchant.”
Lawrence, who as of now was still a traveling merchant and worked tirelessly each day making money to make his dream of owning his own shop come true, could only respond with a vague agreement. Mark himself seemed to notice Lawrence’s predicament, and said with an embarrassed smile: “Forget what I just said.”
“Let’s just wish each other the best. Merchants will always have endless worries and hardships to deal with, isn’t that right?”
“Indeed, let’s wish each other the best.”
Lawrence shook hands with Mark and, seeing the arrival of another customer, left the vending stand.
His cart proceeded slowly forth. Before entering into the crowd of people, Lawrence looked back at Mark’s stand.
Watching Mark, who had long since forgotten Lawrence’s existence and was already doing business with a new customer, Lawrence couldn’t help but feel a bit envious.
Yet even after becoming a town merchant, Mark seemed to want to go back to being a traveling merchant.
A long time ago, when a certain king was planning to war on a rich and fertile neighboring country in order to improve the impoverished condition of his own country, a court poet had spoken to him thus:
“One always sees the worst side of one’s own territory, while seeing the best side of the neighboring country’s territory.”
Lawrence recalled this saying, and spent some time in introspection.
He had always been so focused on finding Horo’s hometown, or the fact that the Rubinhagen fiasco had placed him farther away from his dream. But thinking about it carefully yielded the realization that he already possessed a very precious traveling companion, Horo.
If he had not met Horo, he would probably still be going back and forth along his unchanging business route, singly enduring the torment of loneliness.
Besides, before encountering Horo, he’d sometimes even wondered half-seriously whether his horse would one day transform into a human and talk to him. Taking that into account, Lawrence felt that perhaps he had already had a dream come true.
It was very likely that he would someday return to doing business alone. When that time came, he would surely look back on all that he had today with a feeling of nostalgia.
Having thought to this point, Lawrence gripped the reins once again.
After using morning time to greet everyone at the foreign firm, he would buy a super tasty lunch to bring back to Horo, Lawrence thought to himself.
=====================================================================================================
In the absence of a church, each day at noon in Kumerson, the tallest roof that marked the aristocratic residence would generously toll the bell suspended within its bell tower. Naturally, the bell was engraved with extravagant patterns, and the bell tower, which easily attracted attention from all over town, was maintained by the best of craftsmen.
It was said that the vanity of the aristocrats had led them to build this bell tower, whose construction amounted to over three hundred Rumione. It was precisely because they did this that they were fit to be called “aristocrats” and so, the people harbored no jealousy toward them.
Perhaps it was exactly because those wealthy merchants who kept huge amounts of gold coins stored in their treasuries did not show such carefree extravagance that they incurred so much jealousy from the people. Even those knights who were well-known for their savageness could become objects of idolization if they knew to be extravagant in their spendings.
Such thoughts occupied Lawrence’s mind as he opened the door to his inn room. The pungent smell of liquor that instantly struck him brought a frown to his face.
“So it smelled this bad…”
Lawrence regretted silently over not having taken more time to rinse his mouth before leaving, but then reminded himself that the terrible odor was probably being caused by the wolf that was asleep even now.
Even as Lawrence stepped into the room, Horo showed no intention of getting out of bed. But hearing her usual carefree snore, Lawrence figured that her hangover had probably gotten much better.
The smell of liquor inside the room was too dense to bear, so Lawrence opened up the window first before approaching the bed. He noticed that the water jar next to the bed was already empty, and the pail – thank goodness it was still clean. The face exposed outside the covers had regained its color. It had been the right decision to buy wheat bread, which he rarely ever bought, instead of the sweet honeyed crackers (note: if you ask me, the latter just sounds so much tastier), Lawrence thought to himself.
If Horo woke up, the first thing she would say would undoubtedly be that she was hungry.
Lawrence brought the sack containing the wheat bread close to Horo’s nose, and the small nose quivered slightly in response. Contrary to bread made with black wheat or oats, which was hard and bitter, the scent given off by the sweet and soft wheat bread smelled absolutely delicious.
Horo continued to sniff at the smell, her appearance causing one to suspect whether she was really still asleep. Soon after, Horo made a sound, “Hooah” before burying her face under the covers.
Lawrence shifted his gaze toward Horo’s feet, and saw that the tail exposed outside the covers was trembling.
Horo was probably giving a great big yawn.
Lawrence waited a few moments, and surely enough, a teary-eyed Horo poked her head out from under the covers.
“Mmm……I think I just smelled something really good……” she said.
“Feeling better?”
Horo rubbed her eyes, yawned again, and spoke as if to herself:
“.....Hungry.”
Lawrence couldn’t suppress his laughter.
Nevertheless, Horo sat up with an uninterested look, and yawned once again. Then, Horo puffed a few times with her nose, and looked immodestly at the sack in Lawrence’s hand.
“I knew you’d say that, so I went all out and bought some wheat bread.”
The moment Lawrence handed out the entire sack, the noble wolf became a kitten playing with a sachet.
“Will you not eat any?”
The way Horo looked as she held onto the sack and fed greedily on the snow-white wheat bread didn’t look at all like someone generous enough to share the contents of the sack with someone else.
Besides, in spite of saying what she did, the expression in her eyes was like that of a hound guarding its prey from being stolen.
Horo asking this before finishing all the bread was probably already showing as much consideration as she could squeeze out.
“Mm, no, I already tried some just now,” replied Lawrence.
Although most would probably wonder whether he was lying, Horo, who could see through lies, seemed to discern immediately that he was telling the truth.
Horo’s expression relaxed visibly, and went back to biting fiercely at the bread.
“Don’t choke.”
Lawrence remembered the time not long after he had encountered Horo when they had taken shelter at a church, when Horo had choked on a potato. Horo stared at Lawrence with a resentful expression, upon which Lawrence simply smiled lightly before moving aside from the desk and pulling out the chair to sit down.
On the desk lay several wax-sealed envelopes. After Lawrence had greeted the people at the foreign firm, he had received several letters sent to him from various towns.
Although traveling merchants traveled throughout each year, because they would arrive at the same towns during the same seasons, they had surprisingly many opportunities to receive mail.
Some letters offered to pay high prices if a traveling merchant would help buy a particular item to be used the following year when passing a particular town; some letters told about the high price of a particular item, and inquired about the price of the same product in another region. The contents of the letters were greatly diverse.

“Come to think of it,” Lawrence uttered silently and sank into reflection. Since he normally only came to Kumerson during the summer, he wondered how unusual it was to have already received letters here when the town was just preparing to enter the winter season. If there had been some slight accident, these letters would have ended up lying in the cabinet at the foreign firm for at least half a year. The letters even indicated that they should be mailed south immediately should Lawrence fail to pick them up within two weeks of their arrival. Yet, to mail a letter obviously required a sum of money.
Lawrence understood clearly that these were letters of the utmost urgency.
The senders of the letters were all town merchants living farther north than Puroanie.
Lawrence scraped away the sealing wax discreetly with his small knife. At this moment, he suddenly detected someone’s gaze on him, and looked up to find Horo peeking at him with a look of interest.
“They’re letters,” he explained.
“Mm,”
Horo replied briefly and, holding bread in one hand, took a seat on top of the desk.
Because these were not letters whose contents could not be shown to others, Lawrence went ahead and opened the envelope, taking out the letter within.
Dear Mr. Lawrence....
The way the letter didn’t begin with “Under the name of God” was typical of a Northerner’s style. Lawrence skipped over the formalities and let his gaze fall on the main subject of the letter.
Lawrence read the letter, his gaze following the messy handwriting that had been the result of writing in a hurry, and instantly grasped the letter’s contents.
The letter indeed contained information of great importance to a merchant.
Yet, as Lawrence finished reading the second letter and confirmed that its contents were identical to those of the first, he first let out a sigh, then smiled lightly.
“What do they say?” asked Horo.
“Guess.” Perhaps because of being asked something else in response to her own question, Horo looked a bit angry, and let her gaze circle once in the air before responding:
“At least they do not look like love letters.”
Receiving love letters in such messy handwriting would probably cause a love of a hundred years to go cold, Lawrence thought.
Lawrence handed Horo the letters, and smiled again as he spoke:
“Needed information always arrives when you no longer need it.”
“Mm.”
“They sent these letters out of kindness, so I at least need to repay my gratitude. But, do you think I should be crying or laughing at seeing this?”
Either she was already full, or she had finished all the bread, Horo licked her fingers as she held the letters in her other hand and swept through the words with her eyes.
Then, she handed the letters back to Lawrence with a look of displeasure.
“I cannot read words,” she said.
“Huh? Really?”
Lawrence was a bit surprised as he took back the letters. Horo narrowed her eyes and said:
“If you are saying that intentionally, all I can say is that your skill is getting better and better.”
“No. Sorry, I really didn’t know.”
In order to determine the truthfulness of his answer, Horo looked hard at Lawrence. She then turned away her face and said with a sigh:
“Basically, the types of words that must be remembered are far too many. Also, there are too many inexplicable combinations. Though humans will often say that all it takes is to follow the rules of speech when writing, that is obviously a lie.”
From the looks of it, it seemed as if Horo had once intended to remember the words.
“You mean consonant markers and such?” asked Lawrence.
“I do not know what to call them. In short, a very complex system of rules. If humans like you were superior to us wolves in some respect, it would be in your ability to use such inexplicable words.”
“Other wolves don’t know how to write either?” Lawrence almost blurted out, but swallowed the words he had almost uttered and expressed agreement.
“Even so, no one should be able to remember the words easily. It took me a lot of effort as well, and every time I got something wrong, my master would hit me on the head. I even used to worry that my head would become deformed.”
Horo looked at Lawrence with a suspicious glance. Her expression seemed to say that if Lawrence was simply making a polite lie, she would immediately lose her temper.
“You should be able to tell that I’m not lying.”
Hearing Lawrence say this, Horo at last removed her suspicious gaze.
“So, what is written in them?” she asked once again.
“Oh. It’s written that due to this year’s Northern military expedition being canceled, I should exercise caution when buying battle equipment,”
Lawrence said as he tossed aside the letters. Horo appeared stunned at first, and then gave a strained smile.
“If you had received this letter earlier, then certainly you would not have ended up as you did,” she said.
“Exactly…but, in the end, these two people had been willing to spend money relaying this information to me. Just knowing that is a gain in itself. From now on these two will be worth my trust.”
“Yea. However, seeing the letter and not seeing the letter certainly make the difference between heaven and hell.”
“Although that’s not funny at all, what you’ve said is exactly right. The information contained within one letter really can mark a turning point in destiny. If a merchant lacked information, it would be like going onto a battlefield blindfolded.”
“If it is covering up your own embarrassment, you sure are used to it.”
The moment Lawrence heard this, his hands froze in the motion of putting a letter back in its envelope. “Shit,” he thought silently.
“Hooah. Even teasing you does not wave away my sleepiness.”
Horo yawned as she got off the desk and made her way back to her bed. Lawrence watched Horo with a bitter expression. At that moment, Horo suddenly spun around to face him and said:
“Oh yes, you (note: I should’ve mentioned this earlier, but this is how Horo calls Lawrence. It’s the same as in the anime when Horo says, “nushi.” I use “you” in my translation for lack of a better word, but that’s literally what it means). We can go see the festival now, can we not?”
Horo reached out her hand and picked up the robe she had taken off and placed on the bed, her spirited eyes seemingly about to shoot out rays of light. Seeing Horo like this, Lawrence was tempted to take her out, but unfortunately, he still has some unfinished business.
“Sorry, not ye-”
The reason Lawrence was unable to finish his sentence was because in that instant, he saw that Horo’s expression had changed, looking like she was about to cry and clutching her robe tightly.
“Please, even if you’re just joking, could you not be like that?” said Lawrence.
“You are weak against this kind of thing after all. I must remember that well.”
Even having seen through Horo’s acting, Lawrence could find no words to refute what she had said.
Lawrence thought warily that Horo had discovered another one of his weaknesses as he turned again to face the desk.
“Mm...but you, can I not go into the streets by myself?” asked Horo.
“Even if I said no, you’d still go right?”
“Mm, that is true. But...”
Lawrence placed the letters back in their envelopes, and turned back to Horo. He saw that Horo was holding her robe with an embarrassed look.
“Right after what was just said, she’s already using this move?” Lawrence thought a bit incredulously, but he immediately understood.
Going to see the festival without a penny would mean only being able to stare at the rows of vending stands which, to Horo, would be as torturous as a living death.
The point was, Horo wanted some “battle funds,” except that she hadn’t sunken so low as to be able to open her mouth easily about it.
“I happen to not have any small change...you better not overspend.”
Lawrence stood up, took out an Iredo silver coin from the leather pouch tied to his waist, and walked over to hand it to Horo.
On the Iredo silver coin was engraved a portrait of the seventh aristocratic ruler of Kumerson.
“This silver coin isn’t worth as much as a Trenni silver coin, so you won’t receive a sour look if you use it to buy a piece of bread from a vendor. The owner will be willing to give you change,” Lawrence explained.
“Mm...”
Even having received the silver coin, Horo was a bit clumsy in her reply. The next thought that surfaced in Lawrence’s mind was whether Horo could possibly still want more funds.
However, if Horo detected his wariness, she would no doubt shrewdly attack him for it.
Thus, Lawrence did his best to feign coolness, and asked:
“What is it?”
“Mm? Mm.....”
One had to very careful when Horo was behaving so pitiably.
Lawrence allowed his mind to enter a business state.
“I am thinking, even if I were to go alone, it would not be any fun,” said Horo.
In that instant, Lawrence’s mind went idle.
“What business do you still need to take care of? If you can take me with you, I will give you back your silver coin,” Horo continued.
“Huh? Ah, no, about that, I’ve arranged to meet with someone...”
“I am just going out for a stroll anyway. If it would be inconvenient for me to stand beside you, I could stand farther away. Therefore, will you take me with you?”
Neither being particularly coquettish nor behaving pitiably, Horo seemed to be simply making a normal request to take her out.
If she had tilted her head slightly and asked, “Take me with you, will you not?” one might have suspected her of putting up an act.
Yet, even though Horo’s manner of request seemed very normal this time, it gave a sense of being particularly feeble.
If this was really a part of her act, it would certainly be worth falling for.
Besides, if she really wasn’t acting, suspecting Horo like this would surely hurt her feelings.
“I’m really sorry. Just for today, can you find some way to pass time on your own? I will be meeting with someone later, and through that person’s introduction, I may need to go directly somewhere else. If you came with me, you’d have to wait for me outside almost the entire time,” said Lawrence.
“Mm...”
“I’ll take care of all trivial matters today, and starting tomorrow we’ll be able have a good time at the fair. So, just for today, could you be patient for a bit?”
Seeing Horo standing still beside the bed with such a fragile appearance, Lawrence inadvertently spoke to her in a tone one would use in persuading a little girl of less than ten years.
Lawrence seemed also to understand Horo’s feelings.
It was precisely because he didn’t want to attend the festival that was held in junction with the winter town fair alone that he only came to Kumerson during summertime.
The more he shuttled back and forth among crowds so large that he would come into contact with the people around him, the