Spice & Wolf II Read online

  Lawrence frantically thought it through. Holo was furious at him because he was going to hire a shepherd. If it wasn’t because she hated shepherds, there were not many other possibilities he could imagine. The options disappeared one after the other, leaving only one.

  Perhaps Holo preferred traveling as a pair, just the two of them.

  “You don’t like it?” he asked.

  “I didn’t say that” came her quick, sulky reply.

  Musing fondly on this peevish side of Holo’s, Lawrence smiled slightly as he spoke. “It’s about two days to Ruvinheigen. No good?”

  “...Nor did I say that," she said, shooting him a glance that he couldn’t help but find charming.

  “Well, in that case, I’m sorry, but I’ll have to impose upon your patience,” he said. He smiled openly, unable to resist Holo’s unexpected charm.

  Holo knitted her brow. “What exactly am I to endure, then?” she asked.

  “Mm, well...” said Lawrence, hesitating. He couldn’t very well suggest that she was jealous to her face. Once Holo’s contrariness was roused, her opposition would be tireless.

  “I’d just like to see how effective a shepherd is against wolves. You can manage for two days, can’t you?”

  “...’Tis not impossible. But that is not the issue.”

  “Well...,” Lawrence began, concerned about the shepherdess—but Holo took the opportunity to continue.

  “If we travel carelessly with someone else, they might find out about me, might they not? And I could manage, aye, but what about you?”

  In those words, Lawrence heard something that made him stiffen. It was not his imagination, nor was it some grandiose thing, and even the shepherdess some distance away cocked her head as she looked on.

  Of course. That was it. That was the other possibility How had he overlooked it? He wished the sudden cold sweat that broke out all over him would wash away his mistake.

  Thinking that Holo wanted to travel alone with him had distracted him from the obvious. He’d been presumptuous.

  Holo’s gaze bored into the back of his head.

  The change in Lawrence’s demeanor was obvious even from a distance, and the ancient wisewolf sitting next to him surely discerned his inner workings.

  “Oh ho. I see how it is.”

  Lawrence reddened.

  “You wanted me to say something like this, mm?”

  He turned slowly back to her, facing the wolf girl with an expression that was downright desolate.

  Holo put a closed hand to her mouth and spoke with a hesitant, modest tone. “I...I wanted to travel with just you...

  She twisted her body away fetchingly, averting her gaze with mock bashfulness, then looked back at him suddenly. In that brief interval, her expression shifted from demure to cold as she delivered the final blow.

  "I jest."

  Lawrence had no reply, and whether from frustration or embarrassment, it was doubtful if he would even be able to remain standing.

  Wanting in any case to put some distance between himself and Holo, he turned and began to walk away before he was stopped by her call.

  Lawrence looked over his shoulder, wondering if she hadn’t had her fill of tormenting him, and saw Holo smiling there in the wagon bed.

  It was an exasperated sort of grin.

  He felt better as soon as he saw it.

  “Honestly,” he said with a sigh, giving her a rueful smile.

  “I doubt I’ll be exposed in two days. Do as you will,” said Holo with a yawn and looked away as if to say, “This conversation is over.”

  Lawrence nodded, then trotted over to the shepherdess.

  He had the feeling he’d grown a bit closer to Holo.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

  “Oh, n-not at all. So—”

  “How does forty trie for the trip to Ruvinheigen sound? With a bonus if wolves attack and we make it through safely.”

  Lawrence wondered if she would refuse, since the conversation with Holo had wasted some time. The shepherdess’s mouth hung open for a moment, but eventually Lawrence’s words seemed to sink in, and she nodded hastily.

  “Y-yes, please!”

  “It’s a deal, then,” said Lawrence. He was about to extend his hand to shake, thereby sealing the contract, when he realized he hadn’t asked the girl her name.

  “Might I inquire as to your name, miss?”

  “Oh, um, my apologies,” said the girl. She seemed not to have realized that her hood was up, and now she hurried to pull it back.

  Lawrence had spent a lot of time being humbled in front of Holo lately, and this was a sight for sore eyes.

  The face that emerged was soft and meek, not unlike the sheep she tended, with faded, obviously uncombed blond hair tied back into a ponytail.

  She was slightly bedraggled and underfed, but her eyes were a beautiful dark brown, and on the whole she gave off an honorably impoverished impression.

  “It’s N-Norah. Norah Arendt.”

  “Again, I’m Kraft Lawrence. I go by Lawrence in business.”

  He took Norah’s timidly offered hand and noticed that it—which was just slightly larger that Holo’s—was shaking a bit. Soon, though, she calmed herself and gripped Lawrence’s hand lightly. Though her hand was small, its roughness marked her unmistakably as a shepherd.

  “I’ll be counting on you ’til Ruvinheigen!”

  “My thanks,” said Norah.

  Her smile was like soft summer grass.

  Lawrence had assumed they would only be able to go as fast as the sheep could walk, but he was mistaken.

  The sheep were deceptively quick, and when climbing hills, the wagon was easily left behind.

  Their baaing was as pastoral as ever, and the flock was like a white thread as it flowed quickly along the land.

  Norah, of course, kept up with no difficulty. At the moment the sheep led the way, followed by Norah, who in turn was followed by Lawrence’s wagon.

  “Enek!” Norah called out, and like a bolt of black flame, the dark-furred dog came streaking back to his master, leaping into the air, barely able to wait for his next order. No sooner had the bell on Norah’s staff rung than Enek charged off to the head of the group of sheep.

  Lawrence didn’t know much about shepherds, but he could tell that Norah’s sheepdog handling was clearly excellent. The rapport she enjoyed with Enek was not gained in a single day.

  But Enek did not seem like a young dog. Norah couldn’t have been more than seventeen or eighteen herself, so perhaps her parents had been shepherds and the sheepdog was her inheritance.

  His merchant curiosity was obvious.

  “So, Norah, you...”

  “Yes?”

  “Have you been a shepherd long?”

  After hearing Lawrence’s question, Norah gave her bell one long ring, then slowed her pace, and came up along the wagon’s right side.

  Holo napped along the left edge of the wagon bed.

  “Just four years now.”

  Since the profession required only that one memorize the hymn, dance, and phrases for blessing travelers who requested it, it was not uncommon to find even young shepherds with ten years’ experience.

  Even without a proper staff or sheepdog, one could guide a flock with a piece of dead wood and still be a fine shepherd.

  “So your sheepdog—er, Enek, I mean—you trained him yourself?”

  “No, I found him.”

  It was an unusual answer. A competent sheepdog was a prized possession—it was unthinkable that a shepherd would just let one go.

  Lawrence could think of but one scenario. Its former master must have retired, leaving the dog to another.

  “I became a shepherd after I found him.”

  “And before that?” Lawrence asked without thinking.

  “I helped at an almshouse attached to an abbey and in return was allowed to live there.”

  It wasn’t polite to pry into someone’s past, but Norah answered smoothly, h
er feelings apparently unhurt. As a rare female shepherd, perhaps she was used to such questions.

  If she had once lived at an almshouse, that suggested she had neither relatives nor inheritance, but now she was a fine shepherdess—the gods did still bless some with luck, it seemed.

  “When I was relying on the almshouse, I thought I would never leave such work. It was good fortune meeting Enek.”

  “The result of daily prayer, surely.”

  “Yes, I can’t help but think that I have God to thank for our meeting.”

  Her bell rang out again, and Enek came streaking back to her side.

  As the dry sound of Enek’s footfalls reached Lawrence’s ears, Holo stirred, leaning lightly against the inside of the wagon. It seemed true, surely, that she could detect the approach of a wolf even while sleeping.

  “I met him after the almshouse had lost its land to a swindling merchant,” said Norah.

  It pained Lawrence to hear of a fellow merchant’s misdeeds, but the fact was such things were common.

  “When I found him, he was in a sad state, covered in wounds,” continued Norah.

  “From wolves?”

  Holo seemed to twitch. Perhaps she was only feigning sleep.

  “No, I think it was brigands or mercenaries...There weren’t wolves in the area. He was wandering about at the base of a hill with this staff in his mouth.”

  "I see."

  Enek barked his pleasure at having his head petted.

  Undoubtedly the dog hadn’t been the only one wandering half dead at the foot of that hill. Most of those who were driven from an almshouse would have likely died from hunger. The bond between the girl and dog—they had suffered great hardship together—was no superficial thing.

  And the life of a shepherd was lonely and mean. Enek was surely a welcome companion.

  Certainly better than the goods Lawrence found himself transporting. Horses, too, were poor conversationalists.

  “Still, this is the first time I’ve had a shepherd offer their services as an escort.”

  “Hm?”

  “Normally they’d refuse such a request, to say nothing of offering work,” he said with a laugh. A flustered Norah looked hastily at the ground.

  “Um...” she began.

  “What’s that?”

  “I just...wanted to talk to someone...”

  Apparently her way of clinging to her staff—which was taller than she—was something of a habit.

  Still, Lawrence certainly understood her feelings.

  Outside of townspeople, those who did not find themselves stricken by loneliness were few.

  “Although there is one other thing,” the girl continued. Her demeanor brightened as she looked up. “I’d like to become a dressmaker.”

  “Ah, so it’s the guild membership dues you need.”

  Norah again seemed embarrassed by Lawrence’s words. Not being a merchant, it appeared she was unused to frank talk about money.

  “They’re high nearly everywhere. Though not necessarily so in a new town.”

  “Really? Is that true?” Her pretty brown eyes lit up with a frank anticipation that was entirely charming.

  It was the fondest wish of most who lived by travel to settle in a town. Such a life was difficult even for an adult man, so the shepherdess must have felt the hardship still more keenly.

  “Sometimes the guild dues are free, in newly founded towns.”

  “F-free...,” whispered Norah with a countenance that betrayed her disbelief.

  After days of enduring Holo’s japes, seeing such a guileless face put Lawrence’s heart at ease.

  “If we meet any other merchants on the road, you should ask them if they know of any plans to found new towns in the area. If they know, they’ll probably be happy to tell you.”

  Norah nodded, her face shining with good cheer, as if she had been told the whereabouts of some grand treasure.

  If such news made her this happy, there was clearly value in telling her.

  And there was something about the girl that made him want to help her—something clearly conveyed in the way she worked so hard with her slender arms.

  He found himself wishing that the wolf nearby—who could make a sly old merchant into her plaything with a single word—would take a page out of the shepherdess’s book.

  She’d be more likable that way, he thought to himself after a moment’s hesitation.

  “Fewer towns have been founded recently, though, so you’d do well to save steadily as you pray for good fortune, of course,” said Lawrence.

  “Yes. God can become angry if you rely on him too much.”

  He’d thought the girl was serious, so her joking tone took him by surprise.

  If Holo hadn’t been sleeping behind him, he would have invited her to sit in the driver’s seat.

  The moment the thought crossed his mind, though, Holo stirred; Lawrence spoke up hastily. “Uh, er, so, speaking strictly from the standpoint of a merchant, you might make more money escorting my kind like this than you do tending sheep. Surely the territory disputes are difficult.”

  “...They are,” said Norah with a pained smile after a short pause. “The safest places already have shepherds occupying them.”

  “So all that’s left are wolf-strewn fields.”

  “Yes.”

  “Wolves certainly can be troublesome—ow!”

  Lawrence felt a sudden pain in his buttock and rose involuntarily from the driver’s seat. Norah looked at him, puzzled, and he forced a smile before sitting back down.

  Holo’s sleep was evidently feigned. She had pinched him soundly.

  “I’m sure the wolves are only looking for food, but sometimes they take lives in the process...A safer place would be nice,” said Norah.

  “Well, wolves are sly and treacherous creatures,” said Lawrence, partially to get even for the pinch.

  “If I speak ill of them, they may hear, so I won’t.”

  Norah’s humble manner was very charming, but Lawrence’s reply, “Indeed,” was mostly for the benefit of the wolf behind him.

  “Still,” he continued, “if you’ve skill enough to defend your flock even through wolf-infested fields, shouldn’t your services be in great demand and your flock huge?”

  “No, no, it’s only by the grace of God that I remain safe...and I’m thankful to have any work at all. A huge flock, I just couldn’t...”

  Perhaps she was just being modest, but it seemed as though there was something else behind her sad smile. Lawrence couldn’t think of many possibilities. Was she dissatisfied with her employer?

  Though he knew it wasn’t healthy, Lawrence’s inquisitive nature voiced itself again. “Well, then your employer has no eye for skill,” he said. “Mayhap it’s time for a change.”

  Shepherds, after all, were merchants, too. It was only natural they should seek more favorable conditions.

  “Oh, I couldn’t possibly!” gasped Norah, taken aback.

  It didn’t seem like she was protesting out of fear of being heard, either. She was sincere.

  “My apologies. I am sorry. As a merchant, I am always thinking of gains and losses.”

  “N-no, it’s all right,” said Norah, as if surprised at her own outspokenness. “...Um,” she began.

  “Yes?”

  “I, I was wondering...do people change their employers...often?”

  It was a strange question.

  “Well, yes, I think it’s normal if one is unsatisfied with one’s terms of employment.”

  I see...

  When she talked like this, it sounded as if she was somehow dissatisfied.

  Yet Norah’s total shock at the suggestion of changing those terms implied that she found the very idea outrageous. If that was the case, one might deduce the identity of her employer.

  She had no relatives, so finding someone who would entrust his sheep to her would be difficult. Even the stoutest shepherd could expect to lose two sheep for every ten they herded—and such w
as an acceptable loss. It would be normal for someone to worry about a seemingly frail girl being able to bring back even half the flock.

  Given that, whoever hired Norah had to be someone motivated by charity rather than self-interest.

  In other words...

  “If you don’t mind my asking, is your employer by any chance the Church?”

  Norah’s expression was so stunned that Lawrence was glad he’d seen it. “How did you—”

  “Call it a merchant’s secret,” said Lawrence with a laugh. Holo stomped her foot lightly. “Don’t get cocky,” she seemed to be saying.

  “Er, well...yes. I receive my flock from a priest of the Church, but...”

  “If it’s the Church, you should have no troubles with your work. You’ve found a good employer.”

  Her employer was probably a priest connected with the almshouse she’d mentioned earlier. Personal connections were overwhelmingly more useful than either good fortune or strength.

  “Yes, I was truly blessed,” answered Norah with a smile.

  But to Lawrence, whose very livelihood was based on discerning the truth among flattery and lies, her smile was obviously false.

  As Norah turned aside to work with Enek, Lawrence looked at Holo, who had been feigning sleep. Holo returned his gaze, then she sniffed and turned away, shutting her eyes.

  If she’d spoken, she would likely have said something like, “I’ve no sympathy at all.”

  “They’ve entrusted me with a flock,” said Norah, “and they’ve aided me in many other ways.”

  She spoke as if to remind herself of the fact—it was pitiable to see.

  The reason for Norah’s downcast expression was clear. The Church was not employing her. It was watching her.

  Of course, at first it probably had been out of charity that they’d entrusted her with a flock—which is precisely why she never thought of changing employers.

  Shepherds were often thought of as being vaguely heretical. They weathered constant accusations of being “the devil’s hands," so it was far from strange that the ever-suspicious Church would come to doubt a falsely accused woman who took such a job—all the more so when she excelled at it. It was just more evidence ol pagan magic.

  Even the most oblivious person would eventually notice such suspicion.