Spring Log Read online

  “Don’t tackle or hit anyone, though. It’ll be trouble later!”

  “Let the game do everything for you. Sometimes, they will end up in the air, and it’s acceptable if they hit someone else.”

  He meant that he should hit others with the game. Many town festivals were rough. Though they were getting on in years, the hot-blooded money changers seemed to be having a great old time. To protect himself, he carved their advice into his brain and took a deep breath.

  The sky was clear, and he would surely be drenched in sweat if he moved around a lot. As he wondered how a bathhouse master like himself had ended up in a situation like this, a smile broke out on his face due to nerves.

  “Oh, Mr. Millike, head of the council.”

  As Lawrence was thinking to himself, a float arrived in the square, and standing atop it was a man whose scarlet ceremonial mantle—the symbol of a person in power—fluttered in the wind. It was Jean Millike, the town leader, with whom Lawrence was acquainted. Lawrence could not hear his speech over the crowd’s noise, but even if he had been next to Millike, it was likely impossible to hear it anyway. That was how busy it was.

  Before long, Lawrence was able to see wagons packed with animals that would be set loose as game, and a nauseating anxiousness slowly rose in his stomach. His nature did not contain a predisposition for violence.

  Ignoring the money changers, who were currently the spitting image of bandits, holding their hatchets, Lawrence gazed back over the fence.

  There was Holo, and she gave him a wry smile.

  “Begin!” someone yelled.

  At that moment, a large number of wagons poured into the square, and the pigs and the sheep were all sent running.

  They were bewildered, having suddenly been freed in a wide-open space, but upon seeing the angry waves of people, they dashed off. A young man ran as hard as he could to chase a sheep that was running in circles with all its might, but a pig slammed straight into his side. The crowd watched this and raised a loud shout.

  The number of sheep and pigs in the enclosure grew, and there were some that were so confused that they simply stood still. Those poor, lost lambs were quickly taken and pulled away as soon as they froze.

  Lawrence, too, jumped into the mayhem with determination.

  Most of the sheep and pigs were, of course, mostly younger ones, not bigger, grown specimens. So even though there was no problem dragging their prey along or carrying them off, the animals were still energetic.

  He first thought to knock them out with the club, but he understood immediately that there was no time for that.

  So he threw himself at one that had stopped moving, grabbed it by the legs from behind, and held it up. “Baa! Baa! Oink! Oink!” came loud noises from all around him.

  Lawrence carried the game back to their base, and the money changers took it from him.

  He caught a second and then a third quite quickly, and as he caught his fourth, he took a nasty hit to the head and fell face-first into the mud. He felt a four-legged something walk over him and figured it must have been a pig.

  Lawrence cleared his reeling head with a shake and jumped desperately toward a sheep that had fallen over like him and was wriggling on the ground. He pinned it like a beast that had forgotten how to speak, lifted it up with strength he was not even aware he had, and returned to their base as fast as he could. The old money changers, covered in blood from the butchering, yelled in exhilaration, and Lawrence threw the sheep to them before immediately turning on his heels.

  Everyone running around the square was covered in mud, both people and animals. They were also all frantic.

  Jump at anything with four legs, pin them, and carry it back. That was all he could think about in his strange euphoria, and his face smiled on its own. An energetic sheep shook off several men and broke away. The men, shaken off from its back and knocked away after attempts to stop it from the front, immediately rose from the mud and, becoming like mud dolls whose eyes only blazed white, howled in anger before chasing after their prey that got away.

  Lawrence watched them and finally realized.

  The Festival of the Dead.

  That was exactly what it was.

  “Number six!”

  The old money changers cried in excitement. The meat was piled high on the mat, and the butcher boy who was weighing it had also become excited. It was probably more than some other mats.

  “You just need to keep at it!” The association president himself yelled, also out of breath, and he was gripping the hatchet in his hand so hard that it was shaking.

  Slaughtering animals was hard work.

  “Leave it to me!”

  Lawrence screamed in desperation and once again returned to the battlefield, but his body would not keep up. And it became increasingly clear that if this was a battle of endurance, then the four-legged ones were one step above the humans. He began to see that, covered in mud and full of fatigue, the ones who eventually began to totter like dead men staggered after the sheep and pigs, but could no longer keep up with them. There were also a few sneaky ones, who stood in their place and jumped at game that passed by them.

  Amid it all, Lawrence jumped at one that had luckily stopped in front of him, picked it up, and dispelling his fatigue with a courageous shout, carried it back to the base.

  Number seven. Number eight.

  “Amazing! We can do this! We can win!” The association president excitedly encouraged him, and Lawrence turned away, grabbing a pig that had suddenly stopped as though something had caught its attention and carrying it to the base.

  “Number nine! It’s a miracle!”

  The president was not the only one shouting. The nearby audience was also delighted. Looking around, Lawrence confirmed there was no other place that had as much meat as this. He might be able to win against the associations that hired the mercenaries for this. And he was quite pleased with how well he had done.

  There were great cheers from the other side of the fence, and he had felt as though he had become a hero on a battlefield. He boldly wiped his muddy face with his even muddier arm. Holo would definitely be happy to see him so valiant.

  As he tried to search for Holo in the crowd, the sharp voice of the association president cut in.

  “Mr. Lawrence, the game!”

  A sheep had escaped near their base. The man that was chasing it fell dramatically from sheer fatigue. Lawrence, too, felt a similar exhaustion, but he stood up to catch the scampering sheep.

  It immediately noticed him, and tilting its body, it changed directions. Though of course since it had run this far, he would catch it and win this fight.

  Lawrence ran after the sheep with every last ounce of energy left in him and closed in on it. The ground felt unsteady. He was out of breath. The sheep’s head hung low as it ran as fast as it could. He could see nothing but the sheep. Every single step he took felt like it lasted forever.

  Only a bit more, but a bit more would not come. His prey was just far enough that it would get away if he jumped at it. But he could not get any closer. Then should he jump in a last act of desperation?

  His lungs felt like they were burning, and his hands and feet did not feel like they were his own.

  Everything depended on this!

  It was the moment he deeply bent his knees.

  The sheep suddenly stopped in shock and slipped onto its side.

  Did it trip in the mud?! Whatever it was, now was his only chance!

  Stirring his well-honed hunting skill to its limit, he leaped at the sheep. The later he made his next move, the harder it would be for him to stand. Urging his screaming limbs forward, he hoisted it up and walked off. Loud cheers came from the base. Though the money changers were also likely at their physical limit, they waved their hands in support. There were any number of things that were more difficult for merchants. Even that sentiment became his fuel, and he finally carried the sheep to the end.

  Then, completely out of energy, Lawre
nce’s knees gave in, and he stared up at the sky as he gasped for air.

  He could not take another step. But was it not wonderful?

  Among the townspeople who waved and applauded him on the other side of the fence, he found Holo.

  It was right after he realized his misunderstanding.

  “Did I not say I would be by your side?”

  Though it was so noisy he could barely hear his own ragged breathing, he felt as though he could hear Holo’s voice loud and clear. She smiled proudly at him because she was satisfied that she could work when the situation called for it.

  Lawrence could only smile in defeat.

  He was not particularly physically fit, nor was he particularly lucky. If he was having such an easy time, that meant there was something else at play. The silly sheep and pigs that had stopped right in front of him all did so because Holo had glared at them.

  “There is work that is suitable for a weakling like me” was not a lie.

  From meeting Holo up until now, Lawrence would never have gotten as far as he did by himself. There were times he held her small shoulders, and there were times he clung to the back of a literal huge wolf.

  Lawrence spoke.

  “It was worth all the tribute.”

  Holo smiled and moved her lips—“You fool.”

  The standoff with the butchers’ association as well as the weighing of the meat began. The event officials presented each association’s result as they finished measuring, and the crowd applauded and cheered. The mud- and blood-covered men of the blacksmiths’ association placed their hands on their chests and bent their knees like nobility, earning the crowd’s laughter.

  When it was Lawrence and company’s turn to weigh, he felt anxious before it went on the scale. But to begin with, the number of big wooden boxes used for weighing their catch was incomparable. The result was their team came out on top, no question, of all that had been weighed so far. The audience stamped their feet and clamored in excitement. As Lawrence and the old money changers agreed on beforehand, they stooped to their knees in a knightly manner and presented a bow.

  “Wow, this has been much more than a normal year!”

  The association president spoke, washing his face with hot water. A big company near the square opened up their loading area as a place for the participants to wash up and take a break. He washed every place on him he could with the hot water and made a toast with cold ale.

  He sat in a chair there and faced the square, where the commotion beyond the crowd suggested they were still weighing.

  “I wonder how much our opponents have caught.”

  “Yes, I wonder…We, too, were quite engrossed in our work.”

  He looked at Holo, sitting next to him, and she shrugged her shoulders.

  “There were definitely some courageous ones.”

  “Well, since we did so much, even if we lost, I don’t think there would be much of a gap between us. I first thought we would be dead last! Oh, it’s all thanks to you, Mr. Lawrence. You’ve really helped us!”

  He shook hands with everyone, including the president, for the hundredth time. He had not accomplished anything alone, but he was happy if he was of some help.

  “Then what shall we do? After this, there will be more ceremonial things to do for the festival, and it won’t be for a while until the meat is served. Well, they’ll be serving this meat for some time starting today, so you may grow tired of it! Since that’s the gist of it, why don’t you go back to the building for a bit?”

  Lawrence was not an association member. It would be out of place if he were present for the ceremonial proceedings.

  He looked at Holo, wondering what she wanted to do, and she nodded.

  “Then we will do just that.”

  “Please help yourself to any of the food and drink in the building! But just don’t take too much money!”

  Lawrence laughed in response to the unsubtle money changer–style joke, and he and Holo both stood up. As he did, his knees stiffened, and he wavered. Holo immediately supported her husband and directed a wry smile at him.

  He felt as though he had aged fifty years in an instant.

  “This is practice.” Lawrence whispered to her, and realizing what he meant, Holo’s face twitched as she tried to smile.

  “But ’tis not for a while yet.”

  She sounded like she was scolding him.

  “That’s what I plan on.”

  When he moved his overworked and stiff body bit by bit, a modicum of flexibility came back to him. They used the back entrance of the company, and it was easier to walk on the side streets since there were few people.

  As they walked down the quiet street, the tumult that had pierced his ears, sprinting for the first time in many years—it all felt like a distant dream.

  It might have been because he was tired. Since no one was around, with his muddy body leaning against Holo, who did not seem to mind, he gave her a fawning kiss on the cheek.

  “…You once had strange ideas in these back roads before, as well.”

  She was as harsh as always.

  “I think it’s because it feels like we’re the only ones in the world.”

  “You fool.”

  She kicked him.

  “And the work I did today. How was it? Did you see that I can do things when I need to? But when I thought that, I was really in the palm of your hand all along.”

  “…”

  Lawrence spoke, facing straight ahead, and he could feel Holo’s gaze on his cheek.

  “When I first met you, I would have been frustrated…But today, I truly am happy. You’re always teasing me, but you know exactly when to help me out.”

  He looked at her and smiled naturally.

  She tightened her lips, then immediately looked away. She was unexpectedly shy.

  “I thank you.” But instead of teasing her, Lawrence spoke. He did not need to say anything else.

  The two walked slowly through the back roads.

  It was then Holo stopped.

  “I, too, rely on you.”

  “It’s an honor.”

  “And I believe that you rely on me, too.”

  Was this her complicated way of expressing herself?

  Lawrence thought that for a moment but realized that was wrong. Something was odd about her.

  “Holo?”

  He called her name, and the ears under her hood visibly twitched.

  “Whatever trouble, we can solve it together.” She flashed a tired smile before raising her head. “If you have business with us, show yourselves.”

  An ambush? In an old habit from his trading days, he reflexively reached behind him in search of his short sword. But he had left it in the association building. And he was not left wanting for protection because Holo was by his side.

  Was it a giant legendary bear that carried mountain ridges on his back, who could pick up the moon in his outstretched paw, that dared face a giant wolf who could swallow a person whole? Or…

  “We do not intend you any harm.”

  The young man that appeared from around the corner of the alley spoke. Behind him, a meek-looking girl followed him.

  The young man wore clothes that were covered in mud, and his short, golden hair was still wet as though he had just washed it. The girl’s plain travel kit was dyed with blood. He knew almost immediately what exactly they had just been doing.

  But what caught Lawrence’s eye was the unique air about them.

  Both he and Holo had lived a while and had grown accustomed to this feeling with experience.

  The pair that confronted them were, without a doubt, not human.

  “My name is Aram. This is my sister, Selim.”

  The boy called Aram inhaled deeply as though he was nervous. He held his breath and put his hand on the sword hilt hanging by his waist, which was the only thing not covered in mud.

  “We were mercenaries in the south.”

  The blade of the sword slipped out of the
sheath, and it glinted dully in the shadow of the back road.

  One cannot even draw a longsword without practice. Lawrence could tell that Aram was not an ordinary swordsman by the way he unsheathed his weapon without hesitation and by his tempered body.

  But he had been left speechless for a completely different reason.

  It was why Lawrence ended up chasing after pigs and sheep in the mud. At the end of a road that led from Svernel, there would apparently be a new hot spring town. He heard that the hopeful newcomers were mercenaries from the south. In that case…

  With the same elegance in which he unsheathed the sword, Aram removed the sheath from his waistband and crossed it with his sword at his feet. It was a sign of the utmost respect from mercenaries and knights. To his side, his sister, Selim, went to her knees.

  Lawrence knew immediately that they did not have any harmful intentions, nor were they simple thieves, but he did not know their purpose.

  Then, Aram fixed his eyes not on Lawrence, but Holo.

  “We have come to see the long-lived, proud lord of wolves.”

  He spoke like a knight pledging his loyalty, but Holo was expressionless.

  “I appreciate the flattery, but during the festival, you certainly held back when you noticed my presence. What is your purpose?”

  He had wondered how the others were doing during the Festival of the Dead. When Lawrence asked her, she had not been clear when she said that there were some courageous ones. This is probably what she meant.

  “…We had not realized that someone such as yourself was assisting the money changers’ association until the middle of the festival. We failed to notice right away since there is the strong smell of sulfur about you.”

  Holo’s expression finally shifted a little. Then, she sniffed her own shoulders and Lawrence’s sleeves.

  “You probably do not notice it yourself. That is how rooted you are to the land of Nyohhira.”