Wolf & Parchment, Volume 3, Page 2

  “Brother, Brother, it sounds like a really big town.”

  “Really? Well…it seems we’ve gone quite off course.”

  Col groaned as he gazed at the map of the sea, which included the island kingdom of Winfiel as well as the port towns along the coast of the mainland that bordered the strait. The name Desarev was at the northern tip of the Kingdom of Winfiel.

  “Was it Atiph that we were headed for?”

  From the side, Myuri peered at the map as she spoke.

  Their destination was not the port town of Atiph but a port in the Kingdom of Winfiel called Rausbourne.

  “Didn’t that blondie tell us to head over there? We don’t have to go, right?”

  Myuri spoke with a calm expression.

  “That blondie” she mentioned was Hyland, a respectable noble who had inherited the blood of the Winfiel royal family. She was a wonderful individual, fervent in her faith, both courageous and wise, and a lord born to lead the people—but Myuri was very critical of her.

  She suspected that the respect Col afforded Hyland was actually something else.

  It was true that Hyland was a gallant and beautiful woman. Moreover, she certainly possessed a charm that Myuri did not.

  “Yes, we do. She most likely pointed out a specific location because something is happening there.”

  Col and Myuri had entrusted a letter detailing the events in the northern islands to a fast ship that would arrive a week earlier than the vessel they traveled on.

  It was about two days ago that a response to their message arrived while they were still in the town of Caeson. Once they received it, they departed from the islands.

  “Hmph. Well, whatever. I’m excited to go somewhere new.”

  In the village of Nyohhira, deep in the mountains, Myuri would always pester the guests who visited the bathhouse about where they came from, and she would have them draw a map. Considering that, it was unlikely she would be bored on this journey.

  “By the way, where’s the town you went to a long time ago, Brother?”

  “Well, that was even farther south than Rausbourne…”

  As they conferred over the map, it was not long before their ship arrived in the port of Desarev.

  They could tell how lively the harbor was before they even emerged onto the deck just from the seabird cries that penetrated the hold. Myuri begged Col to climb up, exclaiming that the town was far livelier than Atiph. It had a reputation as a major trade port even after taking the whole of the kingdom into consideration. At the least, they would be able to enjoy warm food and not have to spend the night in a damp ship.

  Col and Myuri gazed out from the deck as they slowly made their way deeper into the harbor. There they could see that many of the ships were soaked and sparkling brightly in the sunset. There were ships with crooked booms, and other vessels where the crew sat hunched beneath ripped sails. Col could tell that most of them had fled to Desarev to shelter from the earlier storm or had washed up here.

  On average, it appeared that Yosef’s ship, which had carried them from islands considered the stronghold of pirates who worshipped the Black-Mother, had weathered the squall rather better than most.

  When Col mentioned that, he was told that sailors from the north would have sensed the storm coming from far away and avoided it in the first place.

  At the moment, the Kingdom of Winfiel was in a standoff with the Church. It was expected that war would soon break out around these waters. Being able to call those northern sailors their allies was an unexpected blessing for Winfiel.

  As he thought about how all this was thanks to Myuri, he turned to face her. It was at that moment he noticed.

  She was gazing out at the harbor while gripping his hand so hard it hurt.

  He was surprised—perhaps his thoughts had managed to reach her.

  “Is something the matter?”

  Myuri answered, her eyes wide and seemingly on the brink of tears.

  “It smells like sheep!”

  Then her stomach roared with a great rumble.

  He could not find it in himself to be irritated at how relaxed she was. Perhaps this was what it meant to thrive in the world.

  Col gripped her hand in return, breathing in a lungful of the air of a port full of people and ships, and spoke.

  “I hope we’ll be able to have a hot meal.”

  Myuri looked up at him, then flashed him a smile as warm as the evening sun.

  What stood out the most about the port town of Desarev was the massive cape around it. Its shape resembled a white bird lifting its head, and the town had been built in a way that made it seem like the wings spreading from the cape’s base protected it.

  At the cape’s highest point stood a bell tower and a large cathedral that reached up even farther. Apparently, there was a fire burning constantly beside the bell at the top. Sailors who had been visited by disaster would cling to their last hope while trying to make their way to Desarev.

  Moreover, the harbor was so deep it was practically bottomless, meaning even large vessels could dock. The energy of the port itself was many more times greater than what Col and Myuri had seen in Atiph. This was the main trading hub for mutton, wool, as well as other processed goods from the northern part of the kingdom, including their famous burning liquor, distilled from the region’s abundant peat; in exchange, wine, wheat, and a whole plethora of other imports flowed in from the south. The amount of alcohol that came and went was particularly impressive, as evidenced by barrels marked with insignias of distilleries that were stacked up all over.

  It was hard to imagine an unlively Desarev given the sheer presence of alcohol and mutton. Not only was the wind not as biting as it was in the northern islands the climate was also more temperate, providing residents with the perfect weather to drink and enjoy a good time outside.

  As the sun began to set, it actually seemed as though the people out on the street became even livelier.

  “Myuri, stay close to me.”

  As Col kept his eye on Yosef’s back in order to keep track of him, he reached back to grasp her hand as he always did—only to find that she was already gone.

  Flustered, he called out to stop Yosef, who had been leading the way. Col looked right then left, quickly spotting Myuri’s petite frame in front of a stand selling mutton skewers. Hypnotized by the mouthwatering scent of sizzling fat and the pleasant smoky aroma, she seemed as if she was about to poke her head right in.

  There were few sheep and goats in the nearly-barren northern islands. There were no pigs, and chickens were nonexistent. Col and Myuri had on occasion been treated to sea creatures that the islanders sometimes caught, but the meat was watery, tasted of blood, and was not very palatable in general.

  On the other hand, the mutton from the Kingdom of Winfiel was renowned throughout the world. Even Col, who was trying to avoid eating meat as often as possible, felt his mouth water at the sight of a mutton skewer, knowing that the sweet fat would gush out with a single juicy bite.

  Myuri looked back at him before he could call out to her, and he found it hard to resist her gaze.

  “Hah, hot! Hauff!”

  “Come on now, don’t eat so fast.”

  Of course, she did not listen. She stuffed her cheeks with the searing-hot mutton while her eyes watered. Given the circumstances, they may very well have been tears of joy.

  At any rate, Col’s expression slowly gave way to a smile as he took in the peaceful sight.

  He was thankful that they were able to partake of such good food by the grace of God.

  He would also have to visit the large cathedral later to give thanks for both of them making it out of the storm without a scratch.

  “Let’s be on our way, you two.”

  Yosef happily watched their exchange before guiding them to a corner of the main street, where the most magnificent buildings in town stood in rows. They had reached a trading house belonging to the Debau Company, the group that Yosef worked with. This wa
s where they planned to stay the night.

  The loading area, which faced the street, was large enough to fit a small manor. Evening was becoming night and the large wooden doors were mostly closed, but through the gap, Col could see many merchants still working.

  Beside the loading area was the main entrance, which was every bit as magnificent as the rest. The Debau Company’s banner was draped over the wall while torches had been lit on either side. Myuri, who had only recently left the mountain hot spring village of Nyohhira, was speechless while she stared up in shock at the trading house.

  The architecture was so impressive that Col was a bit worried about whether two travelers in their current attire would really be allowed to stay there.

  “Hey, Brother, do you think they’ll make us go through the stable?”

  Their clothes were, of course, just as damp as they were before. Plus, they were starting to smell like the sea.

  As Yosef entered the building in high spirits, Col thought that such a thing could be avoided if Yosef explained their circumstances, but he was still uneasy. As Col and Myuri waited in front of the entrance, he became even more conscious of the merchants and artisans who passed by them.

  A chilly wind caused Myuri to sneeze, and Col offered his coat to her.

  “Well, well, my friends! You’ve finally made it!”

  The door swung open to reveal a noble-looking young gentleman, his strawberry blond hair styled in the shape of a wave. The man was not the sort of merchant who traveled from place to place himself, nor was he the sort who fiddled with scales. This man was the very picture of a person who managed a large company and moved people about with his words. He removed his brightly bleached gloves and gave Col a fervent handshake.

  “My name is Edwin Sligh. I am the master of this trading house!”

  “H-how very polite of you. I am Tote Col. And this is…”

  “I am Myuri. Thank you for having us.”

  She was unusually polite, probably because she was expecting hot food and a soft bed.

  Sligh also shook hands with Myuri, then quickly invited them inside. Yosef needed to collect some funds to purchase necessities for the ship, so after exchanging a few words with Sligh, he headed toward the loading area.

  Once Col and Myuri were whisked inside, they looked around in astonishment at the sets of armor and giant tapestries that decorated the stone entranceway. The atmosphere was different compared to what they remembered of the trading house in Atiph, almost resembling a noble’s mansion. The uniformed maids who stood at either side of the hall all bowed their heads in choreographed unison.

  One glance was all it took for Col to see how well-off they were.

  As they proceeded down the corridor leading from the entrance, they came to a hall that seemed connected to the loading area. There was the familiar sight of a merchant accounting room—errand boys ran here and there, their arms filled with bundles of parchment, while elderly merchants sat at the rows of desks, scribbling away with quill pens.

  “First, please change. You two look appalling.”

  Col’s cheeks flushed at Sligh’s sudden jab—their appearance was rather terrible.

  The young-looking house master called out to a person working under a tapestry depicting sheep, then politely motioned toward Col and Myuri.

  “Please pick out some clothes for these two.”

  The worker glanced at them briefly, then opened a closet stuffed to the ceiling with rolls of cloth. It was as though every single piece of fabric in the world was stuffed inside.

  “Well then, I shall lead you to your room.”

  After they passed through the hall, the floor changed from stone to wood. The handrail on the stairs was made of meticulously polished brass, and the candles in the stands along the wall gave off the sweet aroma of beeswax.

  When Col had visited the kingdom during his youth, it had experienced a slump in wool exports so the economy had been in a recession. Things had certainly changed.

  “At any rate, for you to come here, Sir Col, means that God has arranged things ever so delicately. Once they hear about this, the troubled masses from lands surrounding Desarev will all come together!”

  Sligh spoke as they went up the stairs.

  “Do you really think so?”

  Col responded with a bitter smile, causing Sligh to stop in his tracks and turn around, nodding his head with an earnest expression.

  “The last place the Ruvik Alliance’s massive ships stop for supplies before heading north is the Desarev harbor. They were trying to hide it, but we could easily tell there were high-ranking clergy on board. It all made us very nervous—what were they doing up north?”

  Sligh spoke about the ship sent north by the Church, which stood opposed to the kingdom, in order to persuade the northern pirates to support their interests. They loaded their vessel with mountains of gold with the intent to buy the destitute people as slaves to serve as hostages.

  “Each company ordered some of their own to head north and gather information. That’s where many of them witnessed a miracle. That arrogant trading company and the archbishop from the south brought the anger of the Black-Mother upon themselves. Just deserts!”

  Like a child, Sligh lifted both of his arms into the air and smiled before turning on his heel so quickly it let out a squeak as he continued forward.

  “As they learned more about the situation, we discovered that it was not only the monk who kept the northern seas together who had helped but a single priest as well. But no one knew who it could be. Then Mr. Yosef told me that person was you, Sir Col.”

  The man seemed of proper nobility, but the way he walked was just like a merchant.

  He walked restlessly with wide strides, eventually stopping before a door.

  “Furthermore, you are also the one who tackled the vernacular translation of the scripture with Heir Hyland from the royal family, cracked down on the greedy priests in Atiph, and even lit the first flame that awoke the masses to true faith! That story has already spread wide throughout the kingdom!”

  Col honestly felt that it was sheer coincidence that he had been in the right place at the right time when those events occurred. He wanted to shrink away. Not to mention that what had been done in the northern islands was 99 percent Myuri’s accomplishment.

  But seeing him feel troubled over being unable to explain all the details, Sligh assumed it was virtuous humility.

  “Sir Col, you truly are a wonderful person. For the kingdom, which has ceaselessly and unjustly suffered under the pope’s tyranny, you are a living legend. When the minstrels sing about you in the taverns, they call you by another name!”

  “Another name?”

  Sligh placed his hand on the door and opened it dramatically, then spoke.

  “The Twilight Cardinal! You are the one meant to bring us the dawn of our faith!”

  No way. Col wanted to laugh, but the furnishings inside the room Sligh had led them to were no joke.

  “Please make use of these rooms. They are the best in the house!”

  Col was surprised they had been let into a suite on the second floor of a five- or six-story building. Generally speaking, the higher up in a building, the simpler the decor became. Smoke from fires burning downstairs gathered at the top as well, leaving residents on upper floors feeling like smoked fish. Rooms on the second floor were typically for the master or esteemed guests.

  There was an excellent fireplace in the room they entered, meaning there was no need to rely on the ambient heat of the building.

  Col stared in surprise at the canopied bed, and even Myuri, who was normally fond of such luxury, had frozen with a half smile on her face. On the wall hung a giant tapestry depicting an angel holding a scale in one hand and a sword in the other, like what they saw in Atiph. The strength of coin was very apparent.

  “Please feel free to order anything you like before you set off for Rausbourne. At present, we’re hurrying to warm the water, so please enjoy a leis
urely stroll through town before your bath. The storm from earlier has passed, so the air is clear and the fires in town resemble glittering jewels. After your bath, we’ll prepare supper for you. You must be exhausted after your long journey, so we’ll bring it here. Are you hungry for anything in particular?”

  A cascade of words flowed from Sligh’s mouth.

  Col could only stand there like a buffoon, since he was also overwhelmed by the room before him.

  “Er, um, well…I suppose, anything warm will do.”

  “No need to be so reserved! But of course, we would not want to interfere with the temperance of a holy lamb of God. We shall prepare some modest fare for you.”

  It was at this point that Myuri gripped Col’s sleeve tightly. Wordlessly, she mouthed to him, Meat. Just one or two skewers would not satisfy her. She had eaten enough fish for a lifetime during their time in the north.

  He wanted to continue with his simple diet for as long as possible, but if he forced her to hold back after such an offer, she might actually burst into tears.

  “I’m truly sorry, but do you think you might be able to prepare lamb meat or something similar for the girl?”

  “Oh! Of course! She shall have nothing but the finest.”

  Sligh responded enthusiastically, but Col still felt a bit nervous that he might have an entire roast prepared for them.

  “Well then, please make yourselves at home.”

  Sligh placed his hand to his chest, bowed, then closed the door as he left.

  Immediately afterward, the strain in Col’s shoulders dissipated.

  But still, the Twilight Cardinal?

  He thought it sounded ridiculous.

  “This isn’t the stable, but it sure is big enough for a horse.”

  Myuri walked about the spacious room, gazing at everything, giving her impression of the space as she opened the door to the next room.

  “This is too much for us.”

  Everything in their bags had been drenched in seawater, but it could likely all be salvaged after a bit of drying.