Town of Strife II Read online

  “You should buy it while it’s cheap, then, and sell it when the price rises.”

  The man smiled as though knowing it had been futile from the beginning. “Three lute worth, then,” he said, taking down a spool of the gray thread.

  Their shopping concluded, Lawrence and Col returned to the inn. They walked alongside the river and gazed at the town, Col following two steps behind Lawrence, holding the little sack that contained the thread and looking rather tired.

  “What’s wrong?” Lawrence asked, which made Col look away like a scolded puppy.

  He was smart enough to know he had been made sport of, perhaps. But it seemed to have affected him more than Lawrence would have anticipated.

  “Are you so very surprised?”

  “…N-no, it’s just…”

  Col’s eyes glanced this way and that.

  Lawrence wondered if he had become too accustomed to traveling with a certain maliciously witty wolf.

  “Holo’s teasing is far worse than mine,” said Lawrence, feeling a bit defensive.

  This seemed to call something to Col’s mind, and he nodded, embarrassed. “True,” he admitted.

  “And I seem to recall her telling you to be more shameless. I’m no god, just a merchant, so I don’t show mercy unless begged.”

  Lawrence had not paid Col back for the salve, to say nothing for his solution to the coin puzzle. He wanted to reward the lad, but most merchants would have said nothing. Hardly any would remind a seller he had forgotten to demand payment. Lawrence agonized over which kind he was but finally decided in favor of honesty.

  “Of course, if you were actually the sort of person who acted shamelessly when told to, I suppose I wouldn’t be traveling with you.”

  Instead of being embarrassed, Col smiled.

  Lawrence could see why Holo liked him so much.

  “Still, I may not be a god, but I don’t mind being prayed to once in a while.”

  “Huh?”

  “If I truly hated being asked for this or that, I wouldn’t be traveling with certain fanged somebody.”

  At these words, Col grinned and tightened his grip on the burlap bag.

  “But you’re a future clergyman, so if you’re not going to pray to me, at least let me give my confession.”

  “Eh…you mean…?”

  “I confess that my behavior during the prior exchange was not exactly commendable,” said Lawrence, looking away from Col.

  Col was silent for only a moment, then soon caught on and straightened up, his expression turning serious, as one would expect from a priest. “What do you mean by that?”

  “I mean exactly that. I was taking my frustration out on you.”

  “Taking your frustration out?”

  Col had a bad habit of becoming distracted by his own thoughts. As soon as he replied to Lawrence, he looked up, stumbled, and fell.

  “You saw how troubled I was back at the inn, didn’t you?” Lawrence couldn’t bring himself to laugh at the boy during his own confession, so he merely held out a hand. When one stumbled, royalty blamed, nobility coughed, and commoners pretended to have done it on purpose.

  But Col did none of those things.

  He was going to become a fine clergy member.

  “I did.”

  But at this answer, Lawrence could not help uttering a pained chuckle. Col hastily tried to take it back, but Lawrence waved him off. “No, no, it’s fine. You may be my apprentice, but I can’t very well strike your face just to save mine.”

  Looking a bit confused, Col smiled and then rubbed his own cheek.

  “But after acting so pathetically, I wanted to get some of my pride back, you see.”

  “…So was that why you shared that look with the master in the shop, then?”

  The boy had keen eyes indeed.

  “That’s right. I went over your head just to tease you. I just wanted to make you worry that I was going to buy you the most expensive thread…and feel a bit superior myself. Rather childish of me, I guess.”

  Lawrence scratched his neck as he looked out over the river.

  Some merchants stood near a boat as it was being unloaded. He could hear their voices on the wind. They were trying to talk themselves on board so they could cross to the southern side.

  But the town regulated river crossings during times of crisis. Crossing the river was an important connection indeed for the town’s landowners. Lawrence doubted the boatman would risk taking the merchants across for a piddling bribe, which the merchants themselves surely knew. Yet they were still trying to cross, which went to show how significant the events currently playing out were.

  Given all that, Kieman had still somehow managed to have his letter delivered to Lawrence, which yet again proved just how powerful he was.

  “Your confession has been heard. God has surely forgiven you.” Not only had Col heard him out, but also he had added the priest’s standard phrase after doing so.

  “Thank you,” said Lawrence, trying to sound as grateful as he could.

  “Still, Mr. Lawrence—”

  “Hmm?”

  “You had another reason for doing that, didn’t you?”

  Col looked straight at Lawrence. His gaze held not a trace of malice, which made Lawrence feel all the more impaled by it.

  “You were trying to meet Miss Holo’s expectations, weren’t you?”

  The boy’s eyes shone as if he were a child listening to a heroic tale, so brightly that they were almost painful to regard.

  Lawrence could not help but turn away from him out of shame. “I can’t say that…wasn’t part of it, too,” he finally managed to answer.

  Confirming his own negotiation ability was the source of his unease.

  “I know I can’t do very much to help you, Mr. Lawrence, but please keep at it!”

  “R-right.”

  It seemed like Col was putting every ounce of his slim frame’s strength into supporting Lawrence. Lawrence was sure that if he had been in the boy’s position and seen someone older than him act in such a shameful manner, his esteem for his elder would have fallen.

  The only reason he thought to buy the thread for Col and toyed with the shop boy was in service of his own sense of superiority.

  Not only did Col not mind, he was actually cheering Lawrence on. Part of that could be ascribed to Col’s personality, but mysteries yet remained.

  And a merchant’s curiosity ran deeper than any cat’s.

  “And despite my looking so pathetic—a sad little merchant taking his frustrations out on those beneath him—you still hold me in some esteem? You’re a strange lad, that’s certain,” said Lawrence, and unsurprisingly, Col was taken aback.

  He had not intended to flatter Lawrence; he had simply been speaking his mind. “Huh…? But…I mean…you’re traveling with Miss Holo, aren’t you? She told me you were looking for her homelands.”

  “True, but…?”

  “So doesn’t that mean that the problem we’re facing now is large enough to justify your concern?”

  Lawrence did not understand what Col was getting at. It was true that the obstacle before them was beyond what a traveling merchant could handle, and even with Holo’s support he felt far from confident.

  But he got the feeling that Col’s words referred to something else.

  Did he mean that simply being able to travel with Holo implied that Lawrence was formidable in his own right, and therefore any problem that worried him this much had to be a serious matter?

  Or was it something else?

  Lawrence mulled it over and then realized something.

  Col continued speaking. “I mean, this journey is the continuation of Holo’s legend, isn’t it? So the problems you face have to be worthy of such a tale! I’m truly grateful to be able to be part of the story,” he said, revealing an innocent smile.

  Tales of adventure were passed down from traveler to traveler along the road, in every inn and town. But it had been more than ten years since La
wrence had last longed to one day be involved in such a tale himself.

  Even Col, who was so clever and logical he could leave any merchant in his wake felt the same way.

  Surely there was not another boy so guilelessly charming as this one.

  “It’s true; she does say she’ll speak of this journey grandly in legends to come. But that’s all the more reason I need to behave properly for you.”

  Lawrence meant it as a joke, and Col’s eyes went wide as he smiled. “I don’t want to be thought of as a burden when our tale is told!”

  It was a reply to a joke that could never have been made in front of Holo.

  Lawrence shook his head lightly, sighing and looking up. “Well, in any case, there’s one thing we must be very careful of indeed. We must cooperate to make absolutely certain we never anger her.”

  Col was clever enough not to take his words for their surface meaning. He seemed happy, which meant he must have understood what Lawrence was trying to say.

  “Sometimes I act shamefully, as I did earlier. I need someone’s help to stop me from doing it.”

  “I understand!” replied Col. “I’ll do whatever I can.”

  Lawrence was up against opponents who were well used to fighting battles on multiple fronts. He needed every ally he could get.

  What was it that Holo had said to him? Her admonishment that he should get used to using people could have meant that he would have to start trusting them. In this battle of many versus many, such advice would surely be all the more important.

  Lawrence shook hands with Col, his mood much improved. When it came to reaffirming his faith in his negotiation skills, that handshake was hundreds of times more effective than the pathetic banter with the tailor’s shop boy.

  Holo was probably snickering back on the bed even then.

  “Well, shall we return?” asked Lawrence, turning back toward the inn.

  “Yes!” Col followed diagonally behind Lawrence.

  The cloudy, unpleasant weather suddenly did not seem so very bad.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Returning to the inn with Col, they found Holo fast asleep, curled up in her blanket and snoring away quietly.

  Lawrence exchanged a wordless smile with Col, and in that moment, Holo’s snoring abruptly stopped.

  Either she was simply that sensitive to any sort of discussion about her, or the delicate hairs in her ears picked up the faint movements in the air upon their entry.

  Holo opened her eyes slowly, then buried her head beneath the blankets, her whole body quivering as she yawned.

  “So, truly—what shall we do?” she asked.

  Holo could tell that Col had gone out with Lawrence, and she called him straight over, sniffing him audibly.

  No doubt she had an ulterior motive—that of demanding a share of any food they might have bought.

  Col looked faintly abashed, shrinking at the attention.

  “A traveling merchant cannot hope to survive without a guild. So at the very least, I cannot oppose them.”

  “‘A big tree makes fine shelter,’ eh? I suppose it gives a bit of freedom to the small-fry beneath it—’tis probably the right choice.”

  Holo’s tone was much like Eve’s when she had tried to convince Lawrence to betray his guild, and it was all he could do to grin ruefully and hear her out.

  Holo was pointing out that since he was hardly an important figure in the town, he had the luxury of being able to move fairly freely despite the ongoing incident.

  Calling him “small-fry” seemed harsh, but Lawrence had to admit it was accurate.

  “Still, the greatest short-term profit would be had by taking the narwhal to Eve.”

  “And then make our escape, hand in hand? That might be rather amusing.”

  Without Holo, would such a dangerous, adventurous option have been available? Lawrence thought about it for a moment and concluded that if not for Holo, he would have long since removed himself from this dangerous situation entirely.

  He slumped at the absurdity of it all, which made Holo grin maliciously, her tail wagging easily.

  If you’re so afraid of that possibility, just say so—but she did not say it, and neither did Lawrence.

  It would have been a shame to pull the curtain up on their little drama so soon. They had to be considerate of their audience—Col.

  “So, then. Given that both Eve and the guild know where we’re staying, there’s no telling when we’ll get drawn up into danger. I’d like to make sure I have a full grasp of the situation so I don’t react badly when that happens,” said Lawrence. Holo gazed at him wordlessly for a while before smiling faintly.

  “What is it?” he asked, but she only shook her head without answering.

  Nevertheless, Lawrence had some idea why she was smiling.

  She looked at him as if he were a small child who had fallen and was trying not to cry.

  “Mm.” Holo nodded and tapped Col’s head—he was sitting beside her.

  Col was one of them now.

  “Please, go on!” Col replied to Lawrence, who began his explanation.

  The inn was also a tavern, and it was late enough into the night that their orders of wine were fulfilled by a yawning innkeeper.

  Lawrence had expected that either Kieman or Eve would come calling, but there was no news from either of them. He sipped wine out of sheer nervous energy, but his worry was so much effort in vain.

  By contrast, Holo got Col quite drunk, as usual.

  Once she was able to confirm that the intoxicated boy was asleep, she would move back to her own bed. Holo insisted that if she did not get him drunk, he would sleep on the floor.

  Lawrence was not sure if she was doing him any favors or not. Her methods were extreme; that much was certain.

  “Now then, this will finish off our day nicely.”

  Given that he had made a fool of himself twice that day, Lawrence had gone to fetch more wine from downstairs, though he knew it did not constitute an apology.

  Holo seemed to expect as much, but Lawrence could tell that she was a bit disappointed at his meek obedience. She even seemed annoyed at his ordering of the last bottle, as she felt it excessive.

  Usually she would make a dissatisfied face upon encountering the end of the evening’s drinking, but now, if anything, she seemed relieved.

  Her ability to be so thoroughly dishonest about her own desires was a cunning, wolfish thing indeed.

  And yet Holo was still Holo.

  “Ah, well, for my part I only wish you’d bring your whimpering to an end.” She tried to pull her tail out from under Col’s head at the corner of the bed and took the bottle from Lawrence’s hand, a nasty smile on her face.

  She was being so childish that it seemed likely she would enjoy his silence even more than a clumsy retort.

  But if she got too happy, her wagging tale would surely wake the sleeping Col, so Lawrence formed a careful reply.

  “Yet ask any mercenary, and they’ll tell you the strong die first. I’d say some pathetic whimpering is just right.”

  “Fool,” declared an unamused Holo, looking back down at Col. She grabbed his ears and pulled his head slightly up, evidently still trying to pull her tail free. It seemed a little extreme to Lawrence, until he noticed the drool that threatened to fall from the boy’s mouth onto her tail. “I can’t let my guard down,” said Holo, sighing in relief as she stroked her now-freed tail.

  Lawrence watched her and popped a chilled roasted bean into his mouth before going and opening the window slightly. A group of men were passing by, and from the unsteadiness of their gaits, it seemed likely they were returning home after a night’s drinking. If things were so bad that men were wandering around drunkenly despite there being no festival, then the city was in a bad way indeed.

  Assuming the northern landowners were in charge, it seemed best to assume they were losing their ability to hold things together.

  The narwhal could change everything.

 
More and more, Lawrence was coming to understand just how important it was.

  “I am right here, and yet you gaze out the window?”

  Holo had moved to a chair and helped herself to a handful of roast beans.

  There was a boldness to her crunching away that made him somehow happy.

  Lawrence shrugged and closed the windows. “We still need to be ready to escape at a moment’s notice.”

  The answer seemed to satisfy Holo. She chuckled, picked up a bean that had fallen, and ate it. “I suppose ’tis true enough. Will you not drink with me a bit? ’Tis a sad thing to drink on one’s own.”

  Holo poked at his cup of wine with her finger, causing ripples on the surface of the wine he had just poured into it.

  Looking down at it, Lawrence realized he had not even finished half of his first cup. “Why not? It seems unlikely we’ll get a message at this hour.”

  “Of that we cannot be certain.”

  “Huh?” inquired Lawrence, regarding Holo from across the table.

  “Vixens have excellent night vision.”

  Lawrence thought it over for a moment, then shrugged and replied, “All the more important to drink now, then.”

  “Huh?”

  “If I collapse unconscious from too much drink, there’s no need to worry about how I might be tricked.”

  Holo grinned, revealing a fang. “Fool. If you fall asleep and expose your belly, our tale will come to an early end.”

  “I can’t imagine the wolf would let the fox steal her prey so easily,” replied Lawrence, which made Holo’s grin widen, showing her other fang.

  “That’s a bit hard to know. After all, my prey is always showing me its belly. ’Tis all too easy to become careless and believe there’s no need for haste. Such thinking is dangerous.”

  Having come to this point, Lawrence could not resist making some kind of comeback. “But your tail’s just as exposed. If you would take me by surprise, you’d best be careful I don’t grab your tail.”

  “And I suppose you want me to insist that you’d never dare such a thing, hmm?” Holo’s elbows were on the table, her ears flicking rapidly; Lawrence felt a bit irritated.

  He knew he was being teased, but he took a drink and responded, “And yet you’re hiding something about the narwhal from me.”