Spice & Wolf X (DWT) Read online

  As he pulled the blanket gently back over Cole, Lawrence glimpsed Holo tucking her extended head back in as she slowly withdrew back under the blanket - she was also worried about the boy.

  “Remember to rouse me once we have arrived.”

  Lawrence rubbed Holo’s hunched back softly in response to those muffled words coming out of the blanket. As he did, the blanket rose up slightly before settling back down softly. Perceiving it to have been caused by Holo sighing in satisfaction, he chuckled softly and continued stroking her back.

  * * *

  The boat continued on its smooth voyage and finally arrived as planned at the Winfield Kingdom’s port town of Yiku. When they departed the sky had been a bluish gray, but as they walked off the boat and onto the docks it was now painted in a dark red. Cole, who had slept right up until the last minute, squinted as if his eyes weren’t yet used to the brightness.

  Seeing a harbor in the wintertime would sometimes call to mind a summer sunset. Perhaps such a connection was made because a harbor was usually so busy during the day, yet was now dead quiet. The atmosphere a harbor gave off in the winter felt both lazy and forlorn, and yet this particular harbor seemed quieter still; perhaps it was due to the extreme cold.

  When winter fell, much of the Winfield Kingdom would be covered in a thick layer of snow - it was a northern country in the truest sense. As the sun continued its gradual descent in the west, the harbor air became eerily cold.

  A closer look revealed thick piles of snow lining the edges of paths and buildings. Having but a pair of worn-out straw sandals to cover his soles, Cole continued to trudge along as though he couldn’t stop for even a single moment.

  “You, if we do not find a spot to rest soon we shall all freeze to death here.”

  Holo wasn’t much better off than Cole. She’d been leisurely sleeping under a blanket during the boat ride, making the cold all the less bearable having now emerged from under it.

  “Didn’t it snow all the time in your homeland? Just bear with it for a little while.”

  “Foolish mule. Do you mean I ought to cover my body in fur right now?”

  She held Cole from behind as she spoke. Lawrence tilted his head in response, then he opened Keeman and Eve’s letter of recommendation and set his gaze on that.

  “‘Please head to the Tyler Company and ask for Mr. Deutschmann,’ huh?”

  The letter’s author had even been considerate enough to sketch the Tyler Company’s logo. Lawrence strode on, his letter in hand. The harbor was full of well-known companies, including some very big names.

  In spite of the Winfield Kingdom being covered in snow in the winter, its climate was quite mild at other times with a healthy amount of rain. Fertile grasslands stretched out as far as the eye could see. Be it horse or cattle, all livestock bred here quickly grew to a healthy size and build.

  Sheep breeding, in particular, thrived as a business. Sheep’s wool was even reputed to grow quicker than wild grass in the Winfield Kingdom. The amount of wool the kingdom exported was second to none.

  Mountainous piles of woolen bags could be seen on the loading docks of companies along the harbor, and under each company’s roof was a sign emblematic of a sheep’s horn – the mark of a wool dealer approved by the monarchy.

  The Tyler Company was at the end of this row of companies, and maintained a storefront of the highest standards. Seeing candlelight seeping out from under the door of a company was a sign of success.

  Lawrence gave their wooden door a few knocks, and it immediately opened. However, perhaps due to it being after business hours, the door only opened a crack. Regardless of the town or harbor, one should always strictly adhere to the business hours of a company or workshop.

  “Who is it?”

  “My humblest apologies for disturbing you at this late hour. I’m looking for your company’s Mr. Deutschmann.”

  “Deutschmann? Who exactly are-”

  “I am Kraft Lawrence of the Rowen Trading Guild. I’ve been sent by Mr. Lud Keeman of Gerube.”

  Lawrence passed forth the letter as he spoke. The bearded middle-aged merchant stared at his face for some time before he accepted the letter and examined both sides. Then, with a “please wait a moment,” he walked deeper into the building.

  In that instant, warm air from inside the building seeped outside through the crack in the door. In addition, and perhaps because they happened to arrive at the end of the work-day, a delicious aroma also wafted outside - something like sheep’s or cow’s milk boiled with honey.

  Even Lawrence was greatly tempted by the odor, so Holo’s super-acute sense of smell must have made it infinitely harder for her. Holo’s stomach grumbled impatiently, and just then the same merchant returned and opened the door.. Lawrence wondered if he’d heard her.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting. Please come inside, Mr. Lawrence.”

  “Please forgive our intrusion.”

  He entered the building after acknowledging the man with a slight nod of his head, and was followed by Holo and Cole.

  “Please come this way.”

  The merchant closed the door behind them and walked on ahead. As they entered they found themselves in what seemed to be a room for holding negotiations, with several tables and desks set up for that very purpose.

  All of the furniture in that room was adorned with fancy-looking ornaments. Banners emblazoned with portraits of the ruler of Winfield Kingdom hung from the walls. It seemed more like an aristocrat’s manor than a company.

  A few merchants could be spied playing cards on the neatly-arranged negotiating tables. Though the people of Winfield loved to gamble, their behavior didn’t seem crude at all – it was quite graceful, actually.

  Rather than loud clamor with beer mugs in hand, the people here seemed to prefer warm drinks while indulging in classier leisures. It was precisely this characteristic that heightened the sense of aristocracy that existed here.

  “Was the sea unruly?”

  The merchant asked his question as Lawrence looked on, while they ascended a flight of stairs to the second floor.

  “No, it wasn’t. Perhaps owing to the blessing of the gods, the sea was quite peaceful.”

  “That’s good to hear. I heard that huge waves were not too long ago raging off the coast of one of the northern districts. Normally the ocean currents here flow south to north, but the situation was so bad that the currents even reversed.”

  When tides were great along a coast, one could catch all sorts of fish there. Surely it would have been such large tides that made it possible for the port town of Gerube to catch the Narwhale.

  “The seas in our area are seldom so restless, but once huge waves are stirred up there’s no end to them. The sea’s surface is usually as tranquil as a lake’s, carrying the fallen snow on it.”

  “I see. Maybe that’s why the people here are so peaceful and gentle.”

  “Hahaha! We’re just a gloomy bunch who love shifting like the winds.”

  Anyone in the trading business would often meet fellow merchants from other countries in inns and lodges. Their personalities differed, of course, but depending on their home country one could often see the influences the environment they were raised in had on them.

  Most people hailing from the Winfield Kingdom were peaceful and gentle in nature. Though, as this merchant leading them now had cleverly put it, one could just as easily describe them as gloomy and quick to shift.

  If Holo was left to live here for a few years, would she also grow gentle and obedient like a lamb? Though the thought crossed his mind, Lawrence figured that her becoming gloomier would only worsen her personality, not change her for the better. He turned and looked back at her, and she tilted her head in confusion.

  “Here we are.”

  The merchant knocked on a door as he spoke, though he opened it before the answer even came.

  “Come in.”

  Lawrence couldn’t suppress his astonishment as they entered, and it crept i
ts way onto his face. Holo’s eyes widened as well. Cole didn’t even make an effort to suppress the small gasp that escaped his lips.

  Lining the walls of that room were shelves that reached the ceiling. Each was filled with all kinds of merchandise ranging from balls of yarn or thread to fabrics, spindles and even miniature looms. But what really got one’s attention were the sheep skulls on those shelves.

  The skull’s hollow eyes peered ominously down at their uninvited guests in the candlelight. They numbered perhaps twenty, with jaws of various shapes and horns of various sizes. A creaking noise snapped Lawrence back to reality; the man who had been writing at the desk at the far end of the room had risen to his feet.

  Though the lack of a proper greeting was offset by the immediate impression of the room’s furnishings, Lawrence would have certainly deducted points from the other party had this been a business negotiation. Still, the room’s manner of decoration seemed engineered precisely to shock visitors. A proud smile appeared on the man’s face.

  “They’re the sheep that bring us wealth, though the Church certainly can’t be allowed to see this.”

  The middle-aged gentleman had a mustache growing over his lips and possessed a tiny pair of eyes. When he smiled they squinted almost to the point of fading away. Lawrence could feel the thickness of the man’s palms as they shook hands.

  The man’s smiling face indeed gave off a sense of warmth and kindness. Few were capable of concealing the true depth of their experience and skill this well. It deeply relieved Lawrence that he wasn’t there to negotiate a business deal with the man. No matter how hard one worked, there was always someone who felt like a tougher opponent.

  “I am Ame Deutschmann, the man responsible for wool purchases in our company.”

  “Our deepest apologies for visiting you so suddenly. I am Kraft Lawrence of the Rowen Trading Guild.”

  “Please have a seat.”

  “Thank you.”

  After the usual pleasantries, Lawrence, Holo and Cole sat down one after the other on the long bench placed in front of the low desk. Deutschmann took his seat across from them. Gesturing politely, the man who led the three of them took his leave.

  “Back to the matter at hand, it gave me quite a shock indeed to see the name of Sir Keeman, the one called the ’Eye of Gerube’. And followed by the Boland name no less! Just how frightful a deal am I looking at here?”

  Uttering words that brought a wry smile to their listener’s face at every opportunity was one of the defining characteristics of a Winfieldian. Rubbing his nose, Lawrence followed the other man’s lead and answered as if making an excuse.

  “It’s always when a war’s already underway that a king expresses his gratitude to the peasantry. At such times even a small cup of water from the king would be treasured as much as a gift of furs.”

  “Oh.. you mean to say there’s been some great commotion in Gerube?”

  “I assume you’ve heard a little about it already? I’d be more than happy to tell you about it right away, but I know not if you’ll believe me.”

  Surprisingly, those words seemed to spark Deutschmann’s interest. His shoulders shook in laughter and he looked rather pleased as he replied.

  “One does often come across miracles when doing business. But back on subject, according to the request in this letter.. you seek to visit the Great Brondel Monastery?”

  “Indeed. What I’d like to ask is, besides buying wool, what could I use as a suitable reason to pay them a visit?”

  “Oh-?”

  Traveling merchants were accustomed to growing out their beards, while town merchants in Winfield seemed to prefer mustaches. Deutschmann now pinched his bushy mustache as watched Lawrence.

  “Speaking of the monastery, I seem to recall that pilgrims can only head to a distant branch, and aren’t allowed to approach the main building, is that correct?”

  “Indeed. Even only a select few among those who belong to the monastery are permitted to enter the main building. As you should already know, even the trade of wool is done at a specially-designated branch, so..”

  “Knocking on the main building’s doors isn’t a trivial task.”

  “Precisely, Mr. Lawrence. Of course, that other branch is basically the lifeline of the Great Brondel Monastery, so there’s still a connection with the main building. But this.. this is something else..”

  Of course Lawrence knew exactly what was spellbinding Deutschmann’s tiny pair of eyes, obviously those of a veteran merchant. It was the signature of a Boland. They could head to the monastery neither as pilgrims nor as merchants, so their remaining options were quite limited. The name of fallen Winfield nobility was something any merchant with a sizable business would recognize, and Eve’s name could only serve one purpose.

  “Please rest assured. I’m not a political emissary.”

  No one would believe the words of a merchant, especially under these circumstances. It was no wonder that a needle-like glance pierced out from beneath Deutschmann’s eyelids. The man who had introduced himself as the wool purchaser for the Tyler Company looked at the letter in his hand, then at Lawrence, and finally at Holo and Cole.

  If Lawrence had come alone, Deutschmann may have politely turned him down. But for Lawrence to bring two people with him made it unlikely that he was an emissary. Deutschmann seemed to finally come to that conclusion.

  “I apologize if I made you feel uncomfortable.”

  “Not at all. Please don’t say that. You have good reason to be suspicious.”

  “My thanks, but this is precisely the kind of trouble the Great Brondel Monastery is facing right now.”

  “Huh?”

  At Lawrence’s questioning remark, a knock was heard at the door and a maid entered with a tray. The drinks on the tray must be the same kind the men playing cards downstairs were drinking, he thought.

  They were apparently considerate enough to at least provide something to warm up these travelers visiting them from the frigid outdoors. Clouds of steam rose up from the heated drinks, almost seeming substantial enough to grasp.

  “Please have a drink. This beverage is made from sheep’s milk brewed with honey and ginger. Everyone here, young and old, rich and poor, drinks it during this season, whether they be king or peasant. It’ll warm you right up.”

  “Then I’ll help myself.”

  Looking at the bubbling sheep’s milk made it felt as if his teeth would melt if he drank it. Though Lawrence didn’t dislike sweet things, he didn’t enjoy things that were too sweet. He considered stopping after taking a small sip to be polite. Holo, who loved such drinks, would probably find a chance to down the rest.

  “Let’s return to our previous subject.”

  “Yes.”

  “Tell me, Mr. Lawrence, what are your thoughts after seeing the state of the harbor just now?”

  A common method to determine one’s sincerity was to pass a sudden topic onto them. As such Lawrence didn’t stop to contemplate, and just let the words flow directly from his heart.

  “Maybe it’s the extreme cold combined with the late hour, but the place seemed pretty desolate.”

  “Indeed, that’s it exactly. Business has been terrible lately. I say this not out of modesty as a merchant, but because it’s the truth.”

  “..I’m very sorry to hear that. As a traveling merchant from the mainland, I’m honestly not very familiar with the circumstances in your country..”

  “I see. Then you’re also unaware of the ban issued by King Sylvan?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  Even traveling merchants like Lawrence needed a grasp of the laws that governed the lands where they had business dealings. But if anything should happen, a traveling merchant had only to flee into the wilderness to escape the effects of particular laws. A trading company had no such option unless they could unload their merchandise at a place known as a harbor. To them a law was as good as the word of God.

  “Simply put, the ban that was issued
was an import ban. There are no restrictions at all on exports, but imports are limited to wheat and wine. The purpose of the ban is–”

  “To stop the outflow of currency, correct?”

  “Correct. The king has already been on the throne for five years. His greatest goal is to make our nation wealthy. However, wool sales have been dropping steadily, and getting worse every year. The Winfield Kingdom doesn’t have much else to export besides wool, and if the amount we sell can’t keep up with the amount we purchase, of course our nation will grow poor. And so the king, who lacks any practical business experience, came up with this solution.”

  Both of Deutschmann’s palms were raised up in a gesture that seemed to say, “what a pain.” Based on his displeasure it wasn’t difficult to guess how negatively the townspeople viewed the ban.

  “As soon as a merchant finds out that nothing can be sold to Winfield, of course he won’t go out of his way to come here. The number of ships arriving at the harbor drops sharply, the inns go quiet and empty, no one drinks wine at the taverns, the meat goes unsold, there are no travelers to sell mantles and blankets to, stables verge on bankruptcy just to feed their horses, and moneychangers are left weighing only the dust that collects on their scales.”

  “A vicious cycle.”

  “Precisely. Seems a king who knows how to swing his sword in battle doesn’t know how to use common knowledge. In such circumstances it’s no wonder that business would continually grow worse. Before we knew it, the money in town was all gone, and now.. well, see for yourself!”

  Deutschmann then retrieved a coin with a practiced gesture. The Winfield clan had established their kingdom after generations of conflict among rival clans on their cluster of islands, and many bloody struggles with the pirates of the northern seas. This coin, with the profile of their third ruler, King Sufon, was severely blackened. One could barely even make out any shapes on its surface in the dim light of the room.