Spice and Wolf, Vol. 6, Page 3

  It was said that the very best of those who spent their lives plying the river could man the tiller with their eyes closed, no matter what the river’s state.

  So what of Ragusa?

  Lawrence thought it over as he took a seat in an open space near the boat’s prow, setting down the blankets and supplies he carried.

  The surface of the water in the harbor sloshed drunkenly, and the boat’s rocking was slight but constant. Lawrence hadn’t felt the sensation in some time, and it made him nostalgic; he smiled ruefully. The first time he had ridden in a boat, he had been so afraid that it would flip that he had held tight to the vessel’s edge.

  Now it seemed as though he had not been exceptionally nervous.

  He had to smile when he saw Holo edge ever so carefully up beside him to sit. She set down the cask of wine under her arm, unslung the bag of delicious-smelling food from her shoulder, then finally noticed Lawrence’s gaze. She glared back at him.

  “What’s so funny?” she asked. Her low voice was no act.

  “I was just thinking I used to be as nervous as you are.”

  “Mmph…I’ve no particular fear of water, but ’tis unsettling indeed when the craft rocks.”

  It was strange for her to so readily admit to being afraid.

  She curled her lip, irritated at his obvious surprise. “It is because I trust you that I would admit weakness.”

  “I can see your teeth behind that sneer.”

  Once Lawrence had pointed it out, Holo quickly stifled her sneer, then smiled unpleasantly. It was certainly true that she had been scared, but admitting to that fear was pure calculation.

  Lawrence didn’t know if she was actually being agreeable or not.

  The next instant, Holo straightened suddenly. “This won’t do. I cannot start getting along with you now,” she said, turning her head aside sadly. She had said before that no matter how enjoyable her time with Lawrence was, she was afraid of eventually tiring of it. Lawrence felt a shock, as though he had touched something very hot.

  He soon corrected himself—Holo was not being so serious at this moment.

  Even without bothering to ask, he knew what it was that they had to avoid. Knowing there were traps ahead but not knowing exactly where would make it hard to walk—but if one knew where the cliff’s edge was, skirting along it was easy enough.

  Venturing to say as much was neither cause for Holo to admonish herself, nor was it reason for Lawrence to be on guard.

  Quite the opposite, in fact.

  They would end their travels with a smile. Having promised each other that much, there was nothing to be afraid of.

  Lawrence calmed himself and answered, “That sounds like a line out of a stage play.”

  He didn’t say the rest of what he was thinking, which was that it sounded like a line out of a stage play about forbidden love.

  In response, Holo—perhaps irritated at Lawrence’s failure to be properly flustered—looked his way quickly. “Could you not just play along?”

  “Not so long as your face is so malicious.”

  Holo’s upturned eyes had given her face a desolate cast, but then she sniggered and clicked her tongue.

  Lawrence smiled, at a loss—this wolf’s expression could change awfully quickly.

  Not a moment later, Ragusa came running down the pier, his footsteps banging loudly as he shouted in his characteristically booming voice, “Well then, let us be off!”

  He quickly untied the boat from its mooring, then tossed the rope aboard, following it himself with a leap like a boy jumping into a river—no mean feat. Ragusa could hardly be called thin, even as rank flattery, and the boat heaved beneath the sudden weight, listing so far to one side that it seemed like it might capsize.

  Even Lawrence was alarmed—to say nothing of Holo, whose body stiffened as her face turned serious.

  Her hands gripped Lawrence’s clothes tightly, and this was surely no joke.

  “Watch the finest ship handling in three kingdoms!” said Ragusa mightily, thrusting a long pole into the water and heaving down on it, his ruddy face turning even redder.

  At first the boat seemed not to respond to Ragusa’s cry, but soon its stern slowly drew away from the wharf. Ragusa lightly raised the pole and, adjusting its direction, pushed down again.

  The craft, loaded with enough goods that it would take fully four horses to haul them all, was moving under the power of one man.

  Sailors were famous for their boasting, but Lawrence felt like he understood where it came from now.

  Ragusa was moving the entire boat by himself, after all.

  Having pulled away from the boat’s mooring, Ragusa now poled the craft along the route that led to the river.

  Despite the constant flow of waterborne traffic, they didn’t collide with a single other vessel as they glided easily over the rippling water.

  Ragusa seemed to know most of the vessels they passed and gave most of them friendly greetings—though he occasionally exchanged angry shouts and raised poles with some.

  They gradually gained speed, which the long craft grew more stable with, and soon they approached the port’s exit to the river.

  At the wooden tower, which served as a checkpoint at the border of the port, was a group of men who were trying to stop the flow of furs, and having forced their way past the town guard, they hurled curses at the boats that had managed to break through this last line of defense.

  The vicissitudes of fortune were ever thus.

  Men wearing chain mail and iron helms came to the entrance of the tower. They were probably mercenaries and knights who had been specially retained for the occasion.

  The boat carrying Lawrence and Holo rounded the tower, and as it entered the river proper, one man yelling curses from the very top of the tower was restrained by the mercenaries. Lawrence wasn’t feeling especially sympathetic, but at the same time, he hoped there would be no fatalities.

  As he watched, the things that had happened to him in the town came floating vaguely to his mind.

  Just as the men in the tower were now in real trouble, Lawrence himself had only just faced his own problems.

  He had been shocked by Holo’s suggestion that they end their travels together and shocked again by her reasoning.

  In the end, the feeling had pierced Lawrence’s selfishness, but he decided that was what Holo had wanted.

  Thinking back on the scene, it made him want to show Holo—who was far from comfortable in the unfamiliar boat—a little kindness.

  But such kindness was always for naught.

  Somewhere along the line, Holo seemed to have recovered, and though she still held fast to Lawrence’s clothing, she now looked intently past the vessel’s prow and along the river.

  Her profile was inarguably intrepid.

  “Hmm?” She seemed to notice Lawrence’s gaze and looked up at him questioningly.

  She always knew precisely how she appeared to others.

  Lawrence wearily looked the other way, gazing at the town of Lenos as they left it behind.

  He heard a giggle.

  “Your kindness is so very frightful,” said Holo, chuckling, letting go of Lawrence’s clothing.

  Her head ducked, Holo’s breath escaped from her mouth and flowed whitely past her as they moved. This couldn’t be helped, not even if he wanted to pluck the fur from the little devil’s tail.

  Still, it was cold upon the river. She couldn’t very well afford to lose her tail.

  Lawrence replied slowly, “For my part, I’m afraid of your smile.”

  “Fool.” Holo’s smile shined from underneath her hood.

  As it flows gently past the town of Lenos from east to west through the grasslands, the Roam River is a perfectly normal river.

  In the spring and early summer when the water level is higher, they say the shipments of lumber that are floated down the river are an amazing sight, looking like some great water serpent, but at the moment, all they could see both fore an
d aft was the orderly line of boats.

  There were also sheep drinking at the river and travelers walking alongside it and the clouds floating gently overhead.

  If Holo was motivated by curiosity, she was also quick to lose interest. She rested her chin on the edge of the ship’s hull, her face a mask of understandable boredom, occasionally dangling her fingertips in the water and sighing.

  “There’s nothing to do,” she muttered, at which a dozing Lawrence, curled up in the same blanket as she was, woke, yawned, and stretched.

  “Mmph. I’m just happy not to have to be holding the reins.”

  It was nice not to have to concentrate on avoiding the countless holes in the road, and there was no need to be on a constant lookout for the hawks that might set their eyes on his cargo.

  Above all, there was no need to rub his eyes constantly to stay awake even when exhausted, listening to his companion snore while he became more irritated by the moment.

  It was enough to make him want to travel by boat all the time, but Holo seemed to already be too bored to stand it. She withdrew her hand that had disturbed the water’s glassy surface and flicked droplets toward Lawrence.

  The winter water was very cold.

  Lawrence made a face, and Holo turned away and leaned against the side of the boat, removing her tail, which covered his feet, and pulling it back to her hands.

  As Ragusa napped on the other side of the loaded cargo, there was no need for concern.

  “Why don’t you try counting sheep? I’m sure you’d go to sleep eventually.”

  “I was counting until a moment ago. I gave up around seventy-two.” Holo brushed her hands quickly through her tail, combing out bits of debris and matted fur.

  With each brush, flea-like things popped out of her fur, but even if she’d been worried about them, there was nothing to be done.

  It was enough to make Lawrence believe the talk of being kept awake by the sound of jumping fleas and lice during warm summer nights.

  “Anyway,” Holo continued, “counting sheep will only make me hungry.”

  “That won’t do. You’d best stop.”

  Holo flicked a captured flea at Lawrence.

  It was a meaningless gesture as they were sharing the same blanket.

  “Still,” she said, bringing her tail up to her face and burying it in the thick fur, putting the tail in order with her mouth. “Once we’ve made it down the river and taken the vixen to task, what then?”

  She skillfully groomed herself as she talked, but when she finished speaking and opened her mouth, it was covered in fur. She probably needed to prepare for the shedding of her coat once spring arrived.

  The thought occurred to Lawrence as he lent a hand to remove some of the fur that was clinging to Holo’s mouth despite her efforts to brush it free. “Here, hold still…What then, you ask?”

  “Aye. After.”

  Holo narrowed her eyes as the fur was plucked from her; her somewhat solicitous tone was surely meant more to distract Lawrence’s attention from the tightrope he walked rather than strictly to tease him.

  The best course of action that Holo and Lawrence could take, as well as the things they could and couldn’t do, had been decided in Lenos.

  But that decision did not include any real notion of what would happen after.

  “Food and amusements are plentiful where we’re going, so we could easily wait until the snow melts in the mountains. Or if we’re in a hurry, we could arrange for horses back to Lenos, then head north.”

  “Into the Roef Mountains, you mean.”

  It was the direction from which Holo had come.

  If they hurried, the trip would take less than a month. If they moved in earnest, their travels together could end in mere days.

  Holo grasped her tail in an especially maidenly fashion.

  Lawrence studied her.

  She was begging him to lie to her.

  “Still, the mountains change when people get into them. If we head up the Roef River, we might well lose our way.” Lawrence mused upon what a high-maintenance wolf he had for a companion as he plucked another bit of brown fur from her mouth and continued. “If we got as far as Nyohhira, you’d know the way, correct? My guess is it would take ten days from Lenos to Nyohhira. If we can’t wait for spring, it will be closer to twenty days—we’ll need to take a path that runs through as many towns and villages as possible.” He counted off on his fingers, unsure of whether that was long or short.

  Keep your stays short and your travels long.

  The principle was always in his mind as he traveled for business, and even this proposal was leisurely enough to inspire a nagging guilt. When doing business, half of his sales went to paying tariffs and taxes; a further 30 percent went to travel and lodging costs, leaving 20 percent as profit—so a slower, more expensive route hardly sat well with Lawrence.

  Yet still, the trip was short enough that when it was over, he knew he would regret it.

  He counted on his fingers, then stopped, staring at the next digit, wondering if there was some way he could count it.

  “Ten days for a leisurely soak in the hot springs of Nyohhira,” said Holo, reaching out and counting off Lawrence’s last finger.

  With their hands overlapping like that, they looked like a married couple trying to keep each other warm.

  And indeed, Lawrence smiled broadly, his heart warmed.

  Holo looked up and beamed.

  It was a terrifying smile.

  Ten days’ stay in Nyohhira. If ever a thing was to bring a smile to his face and warmth to his heart, that would be it.

  There was no telling how much ten nights’ lodging in a hot springs town would cost. The inn bills could be high, taking advantage of travelers, and the food unpleasant yet expensive. Fresh water was priced unbelievably, and the liquor was thin and poor. There was a fee to enter the baths, and the strongest mineral springs required two daily checkups by a physicker in order to use them. It was quite literally money down the drain.

  And yet, given the timing of Holo’s request, he could not very well refuse.

  The wisewolf was endlessly cunning.

  If he had to be less than honest about his feelings, he might as well smile and feel good about it.

  “You are making your money-counting face,” Holo said, pulling Lawrence’s hand to her cheek and nuzzling it, her expression malicious.

  Her tail swished about suggestively.

  Lawrence considered taking and nuzzling that tail instead.

  “There were people there when I passed through, and even I would take human form and use the hot springs sometimes, so I understand the system. But I am Holo, the Wisewolf of Yoitsu. If there’s no one there, you need only add a little bit to your expenses.”

  That was certainly the case, but hot springs were places where those who would do anything to extend their lives even a second longer would gather, and even if killed, they did not die.

  Such places took on the sense of a pilgrimage, and the harder it was to reach a spring, the more potent its water was said to be, so the most remote locations gained a sort of fame.

  Though it was highly doubtful that Holo could find a hot spring that hadn’t already been discovered, one thing was certain.

  The “little bit” that Lawrence would have to add to his usual food and lodging expenses would be anything but little.

  “Every time you make me spend a bit more on food, my own dreams get that much further away.” If Lawrence didn’t warn Holo off, there was no telling what she would ask of him next.

  Holo immediately gave him a nasty look, but Lawrence couldn’t back down.

  Not even as outmaneuvered as he was now, having told Holo that he loved her to her face.

  “I have a variety of ways to tease you, but first,” said Holo with a cough and a flick of her tail, “are you not the one who kicked aside his dream of owning a store and instead came for me?”

  She looked up at him, testing him.


  Her red-brown eyes glittered through the whitish breath that escaped from between her thin lips.

  “For one thing, I may have kicked it aside, but I didn’t give up on it.”

  Holo sighed deeply, as though asking whether he expected that excuse to work.

  And in truth, some part of it was a lie.

  Holo could easily see through such lies and had quite probably already done so, but before it was pointed out to him, Lawrence decided to come clean.

  “Though I suppose I did kick it aside in earnest, more or less.”

  “’Tis the nature of merchants to use vague words to leave themselves loopholes, I suppose,” said Holo, exasperated.

  Lawrence revised his statement. “No, I truly kicked it aside.”

  “I’ll wait to suggest wasting some money until after I hear your reason for doing so.”

  Lawrence agonized for a moment; he wanted to say, “Thank you ever so kindly,” but instead shrugged and answered this way: “If I opened a shop, I expect I’d take about half as much pleasure in actually doing business.”

  “…Huh?”

  “When the moment that I’d been waiting for was finally upon me, I suddenly realized it—that once I had a shop, my days of adventuring would be over.”

  It wasn’t as though he was no longer enticed by the smell of profit.

  But privileging that goal over all others, unmoved by whatever storms might come, focusing solely on material gain—he no longer wanted that.

  If he got the shop now, it would be wasted on him, precisely because he had been chasing it for so long and with such single-minded focus.

  Holo swept aside her joking expression, murmuring “hmm” to herself.

  Surely Holo understood this, as she herself feared today’s joy eventually turning to sorrow.