Spice & Wolf II Page 4

  Figures larger than her smile danced before his eyes—specifically, the debt she owed him.

  “The clothes you’re wearing now, plus the extras, the comb, the travel fee, the wine and food—have you added them all up? There’s the head tax when we enter a town, as well. Surely you’re not telling me you can’t do sums,” said Lawrence, mimicking Holo’s tone, but Holo still smiled.

  “I can surely do sums, but I’m still better at subtraction,” she proclaimed, then laughed at some private amusement.

  Lawrence knew she was hiding some kind of comeback, but her manner was strange. Perhaps she was still drunk.

  He glanced at the wineskins that lay in the wagon bed. They’d taken the Latparron master for five skins of wine, two of which were now empty.

  It wasn’t impossible that she was drunk.

  “Well, perhaps you should try adding up all you’ve used. If you’re such a wise wolf, you should be able to work out my answer from that.”

  “All right, I shall!” said Holo with a smile and a cheerful nod.

  Just as Lawrence looked forward again, thinking how nice it would be if she were always so agreeable, Holo continued.

  “You will definitely buy me some,” she said.

  Lawrence cast his eyes askance to spy her grinning at him. Maybe she really was drunk. It was a very charming smile.

  “Just look what happens to the wits of the proud wisewolf when she has too much wine,” muttered Lawrence to himself. Holo’s head flopped from one shoulder to the other.

  If she fell drunkenly out of the wagon, she could be injured. Lawrence reached out to steady her slim shoulder, and Holo grabbed his hand with a quickness that was nothing short of wolflike.

  Surprised, Lawrence looked into her eyes. She was neither drunk nor laughing.

  “After all, it’s thanks to me that your wagon bed was so cheaply filled. You’ll pull in a tidy profit.”

  Her charm had vanished.

  “O-on what basis—”

  “I won’t have you belittle me. Surely you don’t think I missed you strong-arming that master? I’ve a sharp mind, keen eyes, aye; hut don’t forget, my ears are good, too. I couldn’t have missed your negotiations.” Holo grinned unpleasantly, showing her langs. “So you’ll buy some oil for me, yes?”

  In fact, Lawrence had taken advantage of the master’s weakness during his negotiations, and it was also true that things had gone just as

  Lawrence had hoped.

  He cursed himself for being so obviously pleased upon signing the contract. Once it was known that someone was going to make a lot of money, they were obvious targets for sponging and wheedling—it was human nature.

  “Uh, er, well, how much do you think you’re in debt to me for?

  It’s one hundred forty silver! Have you any idea how much money that is? And now you think I’m going to spend more on you?”

  “Oh? What, you want me to pay you back?” Holo looked at Lawrence with an expression of mild surprise, as if to say she could pay him back at any time she chose.

  There are none in this world who don’t wish to be paid back money they have lent. Lawrence gritted his teeth and glared at Holo, enunciating his response very carefully. “Of. Course. I. Do.”

  If Holo paid back what she owed in a lump sum, he’d be able to fill his wagon bed with more and better goods, which would mean improved profits.

  More investment equaled greater return—it was at the very center of a merchant’s world.

  Yet Holo’s expression changed completely at Lawrence’s words. She regarded him coldly, as if to say, “Oh, that’s how it is.”

  Lawrence faltered at the completely unexpected change.

  “So that’s how you’ve been thinking,” said Holo.

  “Wh-what do you—”

  Lawrence would have finished with mean, but Holo’s rapid-fire response cut him off.

  “Well, I suppose if I pay my debts, that makes me a free wolf. I see. I'll just pay you back, then.”

  Hearing these words, Lawrence understood what Holo wanted to say.

  Some days earlier, during a disturbance in Pazzio, Lawrence had seen Holo’s wolf form and retreated in fear. Deeply hurt, Holo tried to leave Lawrence, but Lawrence stopped her by saying he would follow her all the way to the north country to collect the money she owed him for destroying his clothes.

  “Come what may, you’ll pay me back,” he had said. “So leaving me now won’t get you anything.”

  Holo stayed with Lawrence based on the reasoning that making him come all the way out to the north country would be a bother, and Lawrence had thought that the business about debt repayment was just a pretense for both of them.

  No, he’d believed it.

  He believed that even if she were to repay the debt, she would still wish for him to travel with her to the forests of the north country—though her bashfulness would prevent her from admitting it.

  And Holo had now turned the tables on him. She used the fact that the debt was his own pretense against him.

  A single word jumped into his mind.

  Unfair. Holo was truly unfair.

  “In that case, I’ll just give your money back and travel by myself north, shall I? I wonder how Paro and Myuri are faring.”

  Holo looked away, purposefully letting a small sigh escape.

  Lawrence, at a loss for words, glared sourly at the wolf girl that sat beside him and wondered how to retort.

  He imagined that if he was stubborn and demanded that she pay him now and go on her merry way, Holo would really do it—and that wasn’t what Lawrence wanted. This was where he’d have to cry uncle.

  There really wasn’t anything charming about Holo.

  Lawrence stared at her, furiously trying to think of a comeback, but Holo looked away from him obstinately.

  Some time passed.

  “...We didn’t decide the due date for repayment. Just as long as I get it by the time we arrive in the north country. Will that do?”

  Some part of Lawrence was still stubborn. He simply couldn’t let the cheeky wolf girl have everything she wanted. This was as far as he could give in.

  Holo seemed to understand that. She slowly turned toward him and smiled, satisfied.

  “I should think I’ll be able to repay you by the time we’ve arrived in the north country,” she said purposefully, drawing near him. “And it’s my intention to pay you back with interest, which means the more I borrow, the greater profit for you. So you’ll do it for me, yes?”

  Holo’s eyes met Lawrence’s as she looked up at him.

  They were beautiful eyes with red-brown irises.

  “The oil, you mean?”

  “Yes. Make it part of my debt, but please—buy it for me, won’t you?”

  The plea was strangely rational, and Lawrence couldn’t think of a good rejoinder.

  All he could do was slump his head sideways as if exhausted.

  “My thanks,” said Holo, brushing against Lawrence’s arm like a cat asking for affection—which wasn’t a bad feeling at all.

  He knew that was what Holo wanted, and it was an unavoidable part of his long, lonely time as a traveling merchant.

  “Still, you really did haggle him down, didn’t you?” asked Holo, attending once more to her tail as she reclined against Lawrence.

  This particular wolf could sense lies, so Lawrence didn’t bother lying and answered truthfully. “Rather he put himself in the position of having no choice but to be haggled down.”

  Yet the interest rate on the arms was not good. The most profitable method would be to import the materials and then assemble and sell the weapons. As far as the business of selling completed weapons went, simply by going somewhere with a constant demand for large amounts of weaponry and turning a fair profit, the amount by which the goods could be bargained down was limited.

  Lawrence headed to Ruvinheigen for that very same fair profit.

  “How much?”

  “What’s the point of a
sking that?”

  Holo glanced up at Lawrence from her position leaning against him and then looked quickly away.

  At which point Lawrence more or less understood.

  Despite her forcing of the oil issue, she was actually quite concerned about his profits.

  “What? I was just worried about sponging off a traveling merchant, who is barely scraping by. That is all.”

  Lawrence tapped Holo’s head lightly at the nasty comment.

  “Weapons are the best-selling product in Ruvinheigen, but many merchants bring them into the city. Thus, the interest rate on them drops, and the amount I could bargain him down is limited.”

  “But you bought so much, you’ll yet come out ahead, yes?”

  The wagon bed was not full, strictly speaking, but it was well laden. The goods were solid, and though the interest was low, in comparison to Lawrence’s initial investment, the actual amount of material was nice indeed. The fact that he was getting double the material for his investment was icing on the cake. Like the saying goes, “One raindrop raises the sea,” and so Lawrence’s gain might be second only to his profit from the pepper.

  In truth, the proceeds would be enough to buy more apples than would fit in the wagon bed, to say nothing of oil, but if Lawrence told Holo that there was no telling what demands she might make—so he held his tongue.

  Holo, blissfully ignorant, simply groomed her tail.

  Looking at her, Lawrence couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty.

  "Well, I should think we’ll make enough to pay for some oil, anyway,” he said.

  Holo nodded, apparently satisfied.

  “Still, now that I think about it, some spice would be quite tasty,”

  Lawrence murmured, as he estimated the likely gain against the cost of the weapons.

  “You’ve eaten it?”

  “I’m not like you, you glutton. I’m talking about the profit.”

  “Hmph. Well, why don’t you load up on spice again, then?”

  “The prices in Ruvinheigen and Poroson aren’t so very different. I’d take a loss after paying the tariff.”

  “Then give it up, I say,” said Holo shortly, nibbling the tip of her tail.

  “If I could get a rate about like what I’d normally get for spices or maybe a little more, I’d make enough to open a shop.”

  Saving enough money to open his own shop was Lawrence’s dream. Though he’d made a sizable amount in the kerfuffle in Pazzio, the goal remained distant.

  “Surely there’s something,” said Holo. “Say...jewels or gold. Those are sure things, no?”

  “Ruvinheigen is not a profitable place for such things really.”

  Perhaps catching a bit of fluff in her nose, Holo gave a small sneeze as she licked her fur. “...Why’s that?” she asked.

  “The tariff is too high. It’s protectionism. They levy serious taxes on all but a certain group of merchants. There’s no business to be had there.”

  Towns that weakened the foundation of commerce with this kind of protectionism were not uncommon.

  But Ruvinheigen’s policy was aimed at turning monopolistic profits. Gold brought to the Church in Ruvinheigen could be stamped with the Church’s holy seal, and such gold would bring safe travels, happiness in the future, or triumph in battle, all by the grace of God. There was even gold for guaranteeing happiness in the afterlife, and it all sold for exorbitant prices.

  The Church Council that controlled Ruvinheigen colluded with the merchants under their power to preserve the monopoly, so taxes on gold entering the city were terrifying and punishments for smuggling harsh.

  “Huh.”

  “If we somehow smuggled gold in, we’d be able to sell it for, oh, ten times what we paid. But the danger rises with the profit, so I've no choice but to make money bit by bit.”

  Lawrence shrugged, thinking wistfully of the end of his road.

  In a city like Ruvinheigen, there were plenty of merchants who made in a single day what Lawrence had spent his entire life si riving for.

  It seemed unfair—no, worse than unfair, it was downright strange.

  “Oh truly?” came Holo’s unexpected reply.

  “Do you have some idea otherwise?”

  This was Holo the Wisewolf, after all. She might have come up with some unheard-of scheme.

  Lawrence turned to her expectantly. Pausing in her grooming for a moment, Holo looked up at him.

  “Why don’t you just sneak it in?”

  If she was always this foolish it would be charming, thought Lawrence to himself upon hearing her suggestion.

  “If that were possible, everyone would do it.”

  “Oh, so you can’t do that.”

  “When tariffs go up, smuggling does, too—it’s a basic principle. Their inspections are very thorough.”

  “Surely a small amount wouldn’t be found.”

  “If they do find anything, they’ll cut off your hand at the very least. It’s not worth the risk. It would be worth it if you were bringing a larger amount in...but that’s impossible.”

  Holo smoothed her tail fur and nodded, satisfied with her grooming. Lawrence couldn’t see much difference, but apparently Holo had her standards.

  “Mm, ’tis true,” she said. “Well, your business is steady enough. It is well as long as you make steady coin.”

  “Right you are, but I seem to have a certain companion bent on wasting that same steady coin.”

  Holo yawned, pretending not to hear the gibe as she squirmed to hide her tail. She rubbed her eyes and crept back to her place in the wagon bed.

  Lawrence had not been terribly serious. He stopped following Holo’s movements and looked to the road ahead. Trying to talk to her once she decided to sleep was an exercise in futility, so he abandoned the prospect.

  For a while he could hear the clattering of weapons as she pushed them aside to make a place to nap, but soon silence returned, and he heard her sigh contentedly.

  Lawrence glanced back and saw her curled into a ball, just like a dog or cat. He couldn’t help smiling.

  He couldn’t very well say what he thought for many reasons, but he did want her to stay with him.

  As Lawrence pondered this, Holo suddenly spoke.

  “I forgot to say it earlier, but the wine we got from the master—I’ve no intention of drinking it all myself. This evening we must drink together—and enjoy that mutton, too.”

  Mildly surprised, Lawrence turned to look at her, but she was already curled back up.

  But this time, she was smiling.

  Lawrence looked ahead, holding the reins, and drove the horse carefully, so as not to shake the wagon any more than he had to.

  Chapter 2

  The rolling hills ended, replaced by undulations in the landscape that barely rated the term, which made for easy traveling.

  Lawrence hadn’t yet shaken the effects of the previous night’s wine, so the easy road suited him just fine.

  With a companion to partake of the fine wine and food, he had overindulged. If he’d had to navigate a mountain trail in his current state, he would likely have tumbled straight to the bottom of the valley.

  But here, there wasn’t so much as a river, let alone a valley, so

  Lawrence could safely leave the horse to simply follow the road.

  Occasionally he would nod off for a brief moment, and in the wagon bed Holo was sound asleep, snoring away without a care in the world. Every time Lawrence started awake, he thanked God for such peaceful times.

  After passing many quiet hours this way, Holo finally stirred herself awake just past noon. She rubbed her eyes, her face still clearly bearing the marks of whatever she had slept against.

  She hauled herself up to the driver’s seat and gulped some water

  from a water-skin, a blank expression on her face. Happily, she did not seem hungover. Had she been, Lawrence might have had

  to stop the wagon—otherwise, she might wind up vomiting in the wagon bed, an outcome that d
idn’t bear thinking about.

  “’Tis good weather today,” said Holo.

  "It is."

  The two exchanged lazy pleasantries, then both yawned hugely.

  The road that they were on was one of the major northbound trade routes, so they encountered many other travelers while following it. Among them were merchants flying flags of countries so far away that Lawrence only knew of them from import receipts. Holo saw the flags and seemed to think they were simply advertising the merchant’s home country, but generally the small flags were displayed so that merchants from the same nation could identify a fellow countryman should he pass. Generally such encounters would give way to exchanges of news from the old country. Arriving in a foreign land, where the language, food, and dress were all different, could lead even a constantly traveling merchant to homesickness.

  Lawrence explained this to Holo, who then gazed at the small flags of passing merchants, deep in thought.

  Holo had left her homeland hundreds of years ago, and her desire to speak to someone from her birthplace was stronger than any traveling merchant’s homesickness.

  “Ah, well, I’ll be back soon enough, eh?” she declared with a smile, but there was a touch of loneliness in it.

  It seemed to Lawrence that he should have some response to this, but none came to mind, and as he drove the horse along the road, the afternoon sun made the thought hazy in his mind.

  There was nothing finer than warm sunlight in the cool season.

  But the stillness was soon shattered.

  Just as Lawrence and Holo started to doze off in the driver’s seat, Holo spoke abruptly.

  "Hey."

  “...Mm?”

  "T here is a group of people.”

  “What’d you say?” Lawrence asked as he scrambled to grab the reins, his sleepiness gone in an instant. He narrowed his eyes and looked ahead into the distance.

  Despite the slight undulations in the road, the generally flat terrain offered a good view ahead.

  But Lawrence saw nothing. He looked to Holo, who now stood, staring forward intently.

  “They are certainly there. I wonder what happened.”

  “Are they carrying weapons?”

  There were only a few ways to explain a group of people on a trade road. Lawrence hoped for a large caravan of merchants, a column of pilgrims all visiting the same destination, or a member of the nobility visiting a foreign country.