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Spice & Wolf XII (DWT) Page 3
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“Um.. then it’s someone that an art dealer like me would know, maybe some wayward artist..?”
“Yes. Mr. Huskins gave us a name.”
Finally, Hugh’s face became like one that a proper merchant should wear. At the same time, Holo’s apple-eating form was downgraded from a wolf’s to a mischievous little girl’s.
“The name was Fran Bonilly.”
Hugh frowned, but not out of fear. His was the frown of a merchant whose secret to success had been discovered. He was well and truly back to being a merchant. And as a merchant, he was quite aware of his responsibility to treat an important person’s introduced guests well.
“Indeed, I know of her.”
“I hear tell that she’s a master silversmith.”
Hugh nodded, albeit unwillingly.
“Her painting keeps her fed, but indeed she was originally a silversmith. However she managed it, she’s a friend of several aristocrats. Each greatly admires her work, but the most troublesome of those are the ones who live their lives on the battlefield.”
These kinds of patrons were like money-growing trees for a company like Hugh’s. He seemed to be making that point clear. Lawrence coughed.
“Will you bring us to her?”
No one in his right mind would want to let a potential opponent see their greatest source of income. That was understandable, even if they were a traveling merchant with an impoverished child and a wolf.. even if he owed Lawrence dearly, or was threatened with his life. No one could blame him.
Lawrence could see the scales of Hugh’s mind tilting behind his eyes, trying to evaluate whether his livelihood was more important than his present safety or Huskins’ friendship. But Holo was the one to tilt that balance.
“We seek Yoitsu.”
“Huh?”
Hugh turned to her instantly.
“Yoitsu.. that’s quite an ancient name. Not many remember it, much less its location.”
Hugh’s mouth might be bone-dry right now, but he still desperately tried to swallow some saliva.
“I am looking for my home, Yoitsu. So.. will you help me?”
If one was to gasp at how irrationally she was acting, they would hardly be in the wrong. But in spite of that, her sense of loneliness was so apparent it was overwhelming.
“If you know then please tell me. Please.”
Holo’s body tensed up, and she stared at the ground. One didn’t have to see her tail to know that it was probably between her legs.
“Well.. um..”
Even Lawrence was stunned. Hugh was well beyond that, and was unable to even calm himself. He could no longer remain seated, and shot up to his feet to say something to Lawrence and Cole. But, though his mouth was flapping, no sounds were coming out of it.
It seemed that Holo’s initial intent had been to scare the information out of Hugh, but somewhere along the line she’d had a change of heart. Back in the Winfield Kingdom, she’d learned just how naive she was from a sheep, of all things. The kind of creature she liked to scoff at the most.
Now, she seemed to have realized that she shouldn’t abuse her apparent status, and should instead make a humble request. And, it turned out, Hugh might not have a brave bone in his body, but he did harbor kindness.
“P-please don’t do that.. since he’s introduced you - no, no, since we see each other for what we really are, I’ll help as much as I can. So please- please raise your head.“
Upon hearing him say that, Holo slowly looked up at him and smiled. Despite feeling silly to have such a thought of a being centuries older than he was, Lawrence couldn’t help but see it as a very grown-up kind of smile for Holo.
Chapter 2
Hugh gave them some warm wine to go with the apples.
“It’ll warm you up, so please.”
After thanking him, Lawrence took a sip. Holo followed suit. Her face remained the same, but Lawrence knew she wouldn’t find the wine to her liking. Cole had to settle for warm goat’s milk, and eyed Holo curiously as she stared at it enviously.
“So that’s why you’re looking for the silversmith Fran Bonilly, is it?”
“Indeed.”
Hugh still seemed to be hesitant, but at this rate he was getting more at-ease and determined.
“Well, she’s in town right now, as it happens.”
Holo smiled, but Lawrence could tell it was out of satisfaction at a job well done. She realized that she had to pull out the big guns before she would get to see this money tree. Lawrence knocked her with his knee before he followed up.
“Is she painting or still doing silverwork?”
“No. She’s preparing to leave. She loves to run around everywhere, and lives wherever she goes. I didn’t think I would see her for a long time, but several days ago she came back out of nowhere and told me that she’d learned about some myth.”
“Myth?”
Hugh nodded at Lawrence’s confirmation.
“In a place called Tarsig, in the mountains that block off the winterlands. It’s a mountain village deep in the forests there, so she came back here to prepare for the journey.”
A myth in a mountainous region of forests and lakes.. Lawrence couldn’t help but look over at Holo. But he found her not looking back at him, but at Cole.
“Do you know anything about the myth, Mr. Athner?”
“Of course. It’s only just rumors, but I’ve heard about it over my own information network. We can’t be certain that it’s real..”
“And it seems more likely to be fake.”
Hugh nodded.
“But she’s not the type to give up. As soon as she has a theme for her silverwork, she listens to no-one. I suppose some people might find that side of her charming.”
“Hmm.. that means she won’t have time to draw a map for us?”
“Mhm. However..”
“However?”
Being pressed, Hugh replied with a reluctant look on his face.
“However, she’s always running to the north for new themes. So she’s far more familiar with old names and legends than Huskins or I. After all, she’s been chasing myth after myth.”
Lawrence nodded, urging him to continue. But it wasn’t possible to tell what he was thinking from his words alone.
“So, well, I honestly just don’t know whether she’ll help if you directly ask her to draw a map for you. And I’ve worked so hard to establish a working relationship with her..”
Hugh wiped the sweat from his face. If that wasn’t an act, it was obvious just how difficult Fran Bonilly was.
“Surely it will be fine if we ask. What is there to fear?”
Holo cut straight to the chase, ignoring Hugh’s concerns and smiling. Her implication was clear: just threaten her. Whether it was a joke or not was hard to tell, but Hugh smiled in return. It wasn’t in agreement, of course, but rather because the word “smith” was synonymous with the word “stubborn.” Some famous swordsmiths would rather live in poverty eating rust than make a substandard sword. It wouldn’t be prudent to just waltz up to her and beg for a map.
“I see what you mean. But is there nothing you can do to help us?”
Asking this way again should help soften Hugh up a little more.
“She’s.. very hard to please. So-”
So getting her to agree to meet someone she didn’t know would probably be the biggest hurdle. Lawrence fell into deep thought. The scales in Hugh’s mind were swaying between keeping Ms. Bonilly happy, and keeping Mr. Huskins - who had built Hugh and others a permanent home - happy. And the scales kept tilting to Ms. Bonilly.
Was Huskins’ word really not worth as much as they had hoped? Or did Hugh simply not value such things as much as most would? Or was Fran Bonilly really such an outstanding individual? Lawrence was capable of working through this problem on his own, but anyone lost in thought like he was, was an easy mark.
After all, Hugh was someone of renown. He suddenly continued, with a tone practically begging forgiveness.
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br /> “I wish to stay on her good side.. but it’s not about money, actually.”
Business was always about money. So when Hugh saw the curiosity in Lawrence’s eyes, he stood up as though he had just confirmed something. He then walked up to a specific painting.
“The place in this painting was once named Dira.”
It was the largest of the paintings. It was of someone standing on craggy ground among boulders, hands raised in prayer, with a barren cliff behind him. Perhaps he was the patron saint of Dira, and this was a painting of his legend. Saints were common subjects for paintings. But as before, Lawrence was more interested by the background.. something about it seemed off. And just as he was wondering about that, Hugh spoke and surprised everyone.
“This.. is my home.”
“!”
Holo flinched as she stood next to Lawrence.
“However, long ago it was a fertile place, without that cliff. That cliff, you see, was carved out by a paw.”
Holo’s husky voice was heard.
“The Moon-Hunting Bear?”
“Yes. Our kind cannot forget the past. Ms. Bonilly was commissioned for this painting. I have been dealing in art for decades now. Having given up on a home that has become unrecognizable to me, I now collect such paintings for my friends and comrades. Though I will not lie and say it is not lucrative, profit is not my chief aim.”
Hugh stared at the painting as though looking through some grand window.
“On top of that, I hear the view will change even more. Gold was found there; someone in heaven must have a sense of humor, because it was found by the very person I commissioned to paint this piece. Yet even if they don’t find a mine, the wind and water will still wear it away. It will disappear like the views captured by many paintings in this room, in churches, and in aristocratic mansions. Not even paintings last, it turns out.”
He gently stroked the frame of the painting, as if unwilling to turn his eyes away from it. It was a record of a time long gone. A time far too long ago for humans, but far too recent for his kind. They could only watch as things changed and became unfamiliar to them.
When Hugh finally turned back to them, he wore a wistful smile that was clearly aimed at Holo. Lawrence decided not to look at her; it would be too cruel for him to toy with her emotions right now. This was something only Hugh could discuss with her, having also lived inhumanly long.
“I’d like to help you, if that’s at all possible. This shop isn’t just for sheep; reindeers, rabbits, foxes.. even birds have paid us a visit.”
Her clothes were heard rustling when she heard that. Lawrence kept his mouth shut.
“But Fran Bonilly is irreplaceable. She’s a font of knowledge and has a sharp memory. She’s even willing to give up her life for her pursuits, and has the ardor necessary to record her experiences in paintings. Losing her is not an option; we’re running out of time.”
Hugh’s eyes shone with colors that no selfish person could ever manage. They were wells of time, which he was hoping to set down in a record of paintings. His words struck Lawrence quite hard.. out of time? Things were changing that quickly?
“Running out of time?”
“Yes. We must go faster. There are many places Ms. Bonilly still has to paint, but her lifetime is so brief. I always find myself wishing that she might live longer.”
Lawrence wasn’t the only one surprised to hear him say that; apparently he wasn’t the only one who expected that she wouldn’t be human. But that just made him want to ask the obvious: why didn’t Hugh, a creature with so many years ahead of him, take up the painter’s brush, if time was the problem..?
“I’m only cut out to be a merchant..”
Lawrence’s hand shot up to his face - it was revealing his thoughts again. Hugh sighed and stared at the floor, then squinted as he eyed the paintings on the wall.
“I have tried, though. I took up the pencil (amateurishly) and went to the east and the north. My friends tried the south, and their shadows rarely ever made it back north. They’ve since passed on.”
Holo once said that she lived in the wheat, and might well vanish if it was destroyed. It was likely that she, too, would die some day. Hugh didn’t seem to like saying that his friends had died of natural causes.. not in front of someone like Lawrence, who viewed them all - including Holo - as undying creatures. And yet, he remained calm. A time-worn creature of wisdom, both gentle and profound.
“They took their pencils far in travel, out of a sense of responsibility. But everywhere they went, they saw humans cutting down forests, filling in rivers, and flattening mountains.. even valleys. When they couldn’t take it anymore, they traded in their pencils for swords.”
Lawrence had heard such stories before. Unsurprisingly, Cole seemed spellbound.
“But they weren’t strong enough. One fell to the Church’s flames. Another was slain by their soldiers. A third succumbed to exhaustion. Still others are now only distant memories, gone like bubbles in the air by the hands of humans- ah, I’m sorry..”
“It’s alright.”
Hugh smiled sadly at Lawrence’s reply.
“Humans are.. strong. The world has been theirs for a long time now; our age has passed. As much as I don’t want to admit it, the only way we stand out now is as legends on paper. And now? Even those legends are being nibbled away by insects and mice. We’re the last of the kind the humans view as sheep. We no longer even have the courage to hold a pencil. The bravest of us were the first to vanish.. it’s.. too painful to talk about.”
Even if Hugh didn’t feel obligated to protect Huskins (who had cast off his identity as a sheep) or Holo (who was a wolf), he wanted to protect Fran Bonilly. It made sense now; they didn’t want to reveal their true forms to her. And if they didn’t do that, there weren’t many ways they could persuade her to stay. Yet they wanted to do everything in their power to keep her painting. It was already a big risk just to tell Lawrence all of this.
“Quite sad, indeed.”
Holo spoke, after sipping some of the wine she wasn’t enjoying.
“Then.. that is why you are so fearful of me?”
This time Lawrence did turn to face her, as did Cole. Birds and deer had visited Hugh’s shop, but not wolves. Wolves were brave, and had sharp fangs and claws. They would surely be the first to fight.. and the first to die.
Hugh nodded slowly, never taking his eyes off of her.
“Yes.”
“Oh, ho.. well, that is fine. I would be quite sad if you did not feel that way.”
Such pride was the only thing Holo had to suit her title of Wisewolf. Hugh’s eyes no longer seemed to be viewing her with fear.
“..You’re quite tough. Like me, perhaps. I’ve always wondered why I was born a sheep, and not a tree or stone.”
They began to talk as if they were the only ones in the room, with Holo showing no signs of embarrassment.
“Well, I think I prefer it this way. Were I but a tree or stone, I could never travel with these two.”
Hugh smiled.
“It’s rather interesting, at least, living in the human world.”
“Mhm. They surely are interesting.”
The only thing the ”interesting” people beside them could do as they talked was smile bitterly. Lawrence felt that the wine he was drinking had also begun to taste rather sour.
* * *
Gold, silver, copper, iron, tin, lead, brass, and stones. When people mentioned “gems hidden among rocks,” they were talking about how difficult it could be to know what was truly valuable.
Lawrence and his companions had been told that Fran was wandering around town, so before she came back to his shop, Hugh decided to give them a tour. He had more than just paintings; various crated artifacts and baubles were often sold in addition to paintings.
“In truth, many of these are fakes. Here is a golden scroll-reading rod.. well, gold-coated, anyhow. Oh right, this one might actually be solid gold. What do you think?”
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Not even he seemed to remember all of the artifacts in his own shop. He casually judged the weight of the rod in his hands before making his evaluation. He’d told them the truth about Fran for Holo’s sake - a kindred spirit. But he wasn’t just a sheep spirit, he was also a merchant. He didn’t mind asking her for her opinion.
Hugh led them around while trying to find paintings of Yoitsu, but he also kept an eye on Lawrence. Traveling merchants didn’t have much money, but they did have front-line information about prices in various markets. He surely wanted Lawrence to help him determine if anything in this dusty back room was valuable. Lawrence felt like a boar being used to sniff out truffles.
True, prices trended differently in towns. Some places would be mad for objects in the shape of wolves, while others might have such a high demand for gold objects that even fool’s gold or gold-coated items would fetch a high price. In any case, Lawrence didn’t hesitate to offer what he could - he was enjoying his trip to this town that much.
In fact he was on a merchant’s high. Here, he could see things being sold he would never have imagined. And Hugh’s shop alone held so many trinkets that he couldn’t help but view it as a pile of trash with priceless items buried within.
“Well.. that’s basically all I can offer.”
“Oh, oh.. my sincerest thanks. I can collect news in a shop like this, but since only merchants come here it’s rare that I’ll ever get offered any information related to trade.”
Even while talking, Hugh was busily scrawling notes with a pencil on the back of a now-useless receipt. From this perspective, he seemed to be a paragon of merchants. If he wasn’t just putting on an airs like a certain other spirit-being Lawrence knew, then his success as a merchant made sense.
But Lawrence was a merchant as well. He wasn’t going to lose to Hugh, even if he wasn’t human. Holo would surely frown if she read his thoughts right now, but he couldn’t help but be attracted by a certain article in Hugh’s huge pile of items.
“What’s this?”
“Oh, that.. I’d almost forgotten that I left it there.”
Lawrence pulled it out from it’s resting place between two crates. Hugh happily received it from him. Lawrence simply had no idea what it was for, but Holo would surely chuckle if she saw it - it was a golden apple.