
It had already been six days since departing from the Church city of Rubinhaigen. The weather was getting colder with the passing of each day, which, along with the gloomy overcast sky made even the mild day breezes sufficient to cause shivers.
Especially after arriving at the riverside road, the wind carried with it the coldness of the water, making the temperature even less bearable.
The river, whose water seemed a tainted mixture of liquid and dark clouds, looked cold to the extreme. Even the multiple layers of second-hand winter garments purchased at Rubinhaigen seemed of little help against the bone-chilling weather.
Although, reflecting back to the time when, seizing the initiative to buy merchandise resulted in a lack of funds for purchasing extra winter clothing, and the freezing journey north that followed, brought a strained smile to his face. This feeling of nostalgia more or less made him forget about the cold.
After seven years, the rookie traveling merchant of the past seemed to have grown quite a bit.
Besides, this year, in addition to the protective clothing was another existence capable of making one forget about the bitter cold.
Traveling merchant Lawrence, who became his own man at the early age of eighteen and would this year be embracing his seventh winter in the trade, turned his sight toward the person sitting next to him in the driver's seat.
Normally there would be no one there whether he looked to the right or to the left.
Even during the rare instances in which he did have a traveling companion, that person would probably not be sitting together with him in the driver's seat, not to mention being covered under the same piece of merchandise-covering cloth as the one covering his lap for warmth.
"...What?", the companion asked.
The traveling companion who used a somewhat archaic form of speech.
This traveling companion appeared as a white-teethed and bright-eyed girl of fifteen years or so, with beautiful flax-colored long hair that would make even a noble envious. However, what made Lawrence envious was neither her beautiful flax-colored hair nor the high-quality robe she had on.
It was the animal tail that she had placed on the covering cloth and was grooming with great care.
The tail was brown in color, with a bit of white at the tip; its dense fur looked really warm. If it could be made into a scarf, it would undoubtedly become a big hit among rich women; too bad it wasn't for sale.
"Hurry up, finish grooming that tail and tuck it back under the covers."
It wouldn't be inaccurate to say that the robe-wearing girl carefully grooming the animal tail with a comb resembled a poor nun doing part-time work.
Even so, upon hearing Lawrence's words, the young girl narrowed her slightly red, amber-colored eyes, before parting her lips, which seemed completely undamaged by the dry winter wind, to speak in an unpleased tone: "I am not letting you use my tail as a lap furnace." Having said this, the tail in her hands moved slightly.
Although passing travelers or traveling merchants who spotted the tail would always assume it was a decorative piece of fur, the fact was that the tail was still attached to its original owner.
It was actually a part of the girl who was carefully grooming it. In fact, the young girl didn't just have a tail; underneath her hood was hidden a pair of inhuman, animal ears. Of course, someone with a tail and a pair of animal ears couldn't possibly be a normal human.
Although humans possessed by fairies or demons and having outwardly inhuman characteristics were not unheard of, she was not one among these.
The girl's real form was a huge, godlike wolf that dwelt within wheat, and her name was Horo, the Sage Wolf of Yoitsu.
To a knowledgeable member of the Orthodox faith, Horo was regarded as a pagan deity, a fearsome existence. But to Lawrence, fearing Horo was a thing of the past.
The current Lawrence could not only make fun of the tail Horo was so proud of quite easily, he even frequently used it as his own lap furnace.
"After all, the fur on your tail is so dense and neat, just placing it under the covers would make it as warm as a mountainous pile of fur pieces."
Just as Lawrence had predicted, Horo gave a proud puff from her nose before withdrawing her tail back underneath the covers with a look on her face that seemed to say, "Yea, I give up."
"By the way, have we not reached the town yet? We will arrive today, will we not?"
"We just need to follow this path along the river, and we'll be there in no time," Lawrence gestured as he spoke.
"Finally, I will have something hot to eat. I do not desire to eat any more cold porridge in this freezing atmosphere. No matter what is said, it would be too annoying."
Even Lawrence, who was surely more accustomed to eating bad food than Horo was, had to agree.
Even though eating was among the only recreations one could indulge in while traveling, when winter came, even this lost most of its pleasurable aspects.
Because in the harsh, bitterly-cold winter days, the only choices were to munch on some hard and bitter bread made from black wheat, or to add some water to the bread to make porridge, and as for accompanying dishes, there were only some nearly-tasteless pieces of dried meat along with the representatives of storage-resistant vegetables -- onions and garlic.
Horo, being a wolf, was uneasy about the strongly-flavored onions and garlic, and also hated eating the bitter black wheat bread, so the only choice she had was to quickly swallow the porridge made from bread and water.
To the gluttonous Horo, this was perhaps nothing less than torture.
"Yeah, the town we're heading to is holding a large town-wide fair, so there should be plenty to eat. Look forward to that."
"Oh, but are you sure that your wallet can afford the extra expenses?"
A week ago in the Church city of Rubinhaigen, Lawrence's greed had led him to fall into a trade company's malicious trap. At one point, he even believed that he would go bankrupt. After many twists and turns, although Lawrence was able to narrowly avoid bankruptcy, he was ultimately unable to make a profit, and even suffered some losses.
As for the battle equipment that had been the cause of all this, after considering the difficulty of transporting the goods in the winter season as well as the possibility that the crash of its market price would be even more severe farther north, Lawrence ended up selling the equipment in Rubinhaigen at next-to-nothing prices.
Although Horo was always begging Lawrence to buy this or buy that, she still showed some concern for the state of his wallet.
Indeed, she was arrogant and often enjoyed giving people a hard time, but deep down she was still a kind soul.
"If it's just buying food for you, that's still within a reasonable budget. Don't worry about it." Even so, Horo still wore a worried expression on her face, "Mmm..."
"Besides, in the end I was still unable to buy honey-soaked peaches for you in Rubinhaigen, so you can think of this as making up for that."
"Really...but..." "What is it?"
"Even though half of my fears is over your wallet, the other half is over myself. If I were to spend money on feasting, would it mean having to stay at a lesser inn? "Now I get it," Lawrence thought, and smilingly replied: "Well, I am planning to stay at an inn of decent standard. Don't tell me you wanted to say that if the room doesn't have a furnace, you'd refuse to stay in it!"
"I was not planning to ask for so much. But, I would not want you to use buying food for me as an excuse."
"Excuse?"
In order to readjust the path of his horse, which had gone a bit astray, Lawrence shifted his line of sight toward the front, after which Horo moved her face close to his ear and said softly: "I would not want you to use not having enough money as an excuse to choose a room with only one bed. I would like to sleep comfortably alone once in a while."
Unconsciously, Lawrence pulled a bit too hard on the reins. His horse whinnied a displeased response. However, Lawrence had already become accustomed to Horo's constant teasing, and it was easy for him to recover his balance.
Lawrence feigned calmness, and responded with a cold expression on his face: "That's quite something for someone with such a carefree snore to say."
Lawrence's counter caught Horo off guard. She pouted her lips with a sour expression on her face, and shifted her body away.
Lawrence couldn't possibly give up such a chance, and thus continued his assault: "Besides, you're not even my type."
Horo possessed a pair of ears capable of distinguishing between lie and truth. What Lawrence had just said was, just barely, not a lie.
Horo seemed to comprehend this. In an instant she was frozen with a look of surprise on her face. "You should be able to tell that I'm not lying."
Thus, Lawrence delivered the final blow.
Although Horo could only stare in blank amazement for a while, her mouth still moved slightly, as if trying to come up with a way to counter. Soon, however, she seemed to realize that such a reaction had already signaled the reality of her defeat.
Beneath her hood, her ears drooped visibly, and she lowered her face with a dejected look. Lawrence had won a long-anticipated victory.
Even so, this wasn't a real victory.
Although Horo not being his type was not exactly a lie, it wasn't entirely the truth either.
All that remained was for Lawrence to tell her this in order to complete his revenge for always being played in the palm of her hand.
Whether it was the defenselessly-sleeping Horo, or the Horo filled with smiles and laughter, Lawrence was very much fond of her.
As well as the way she looked when depressed. In other words...
"You like me the way I am right now, do you?
Lawrence's eyes accidentally met Horo's upward gaze, and couldn't help blushing.
"Foolish mule. The more foolish the male, the more he likes weak females. You do not seem to realize that the only weak thing is your brain and that of the likes of you."
Revealing a pair of sharp teeth and wearing a mocking expression on her face, Horo had instantly turned the tide and gained the advantage.
"If you wish me to play the role of the weak princess, you should at least be a mighty knight...but what, do you think, is the real situation?"
Horo pointed a finger at Lawrence, who could not think of any way to respond.
In his mind, Lawrence recalled the many scenes that served as a painful reminder of who he really was -- not a chosen knight, but a mere traveling merchant.
Looking at Lawrence's reaction, Horo gave a sigh of satisfaction, but suddenly seemed to recall something. With an index finger against her chin, she spoke: "Hmm. Come to think of it, it seems that you did once become a knight."
Lawrence made an attempt to search his drawer of memories, wondering if he'd ever behaved in such a manly way.
"What? You forgot already? Did you not stand in the front and protect me? When we fell into the conflict of the silver coins, in the sewers."
".Oh, that."
Although Horo had helped him recall the memory, Lawrence had a hard time associating it with knightly behavior. After all, his clothes were all tattered back then, and his body, which he'd barely managed to keep upright, had been shaking uncontrollably.
"Knightly behavior does not necessarily require great physical strength. However, that was the first time that I had ever been protected by someone."
Horo smiled a bit shyly, shifting her body close to Lawrence. The speed at which Horo could switch moods still inspired fear within Lawrence. Faced with such a Horo, even a merchant who could easily change his attitude according to profit and loss would run away afraid.
Even so, Lawrence had nowhere to run.
"You will no doubt cherish me in the future, will you not?"
The wolf before him was like a kitten, revealing a tender and innocent smile. That was a smile that no man doing business in solitude for decades was blessed enough to behold. However, that was a fake smile. Horo was still angry at Lawrence for having said that she wasn't his type. In fact, she was probably extremely angry.
Lawrence was deeply aware of Horo's wrath. ".Sorry."
Thus, Lawrence's apologetic words seemed to cast a magic spell, causing Horo to reveal a true smile and sit up straight before producing a giggle from deep within her throat.
"This is exactly what I like about your personality."
Such a mutually-teasing and joking interaction was just like two young pups fooling around. In the end, this kind of distance was most suited to these two after all.
"Selecting a room with only one bed is fine. But, the meals need to have two servings." "Got it, got it."
The weather wasn't even hot, but Lawrence was sweating profusely. He wiped away the annoying sweat as he answered. Horo, hearing his answer, began laughing once again.
"So, anything good to eat around here?"
"Are you talking about local staples? It probably can't be called a staple, but around here." "Fish, correct?"
Horo said what Lawrence was just about to answer, which quite surprised him.
"That's quite something for you to know. There is a lake west of this area. The fish transported from over there can more or less count as a staple. In addition, the rivers that flow through the region are a source of a great variety of fishes. But, how did you know?"
Even though Horo could easily read people's emotions, she couldn't possibly see one's exact thoughts could she?
"Mm, since just now, the wind has been carrying over a scent. Look!"
Upon saying this, Horo pointed with her right hand in the direction opposite the river. "That team of horse-drawn carts is probably transporting fish."
Hearing this, Lawrence spotted for the first time a team of horse-drawn carts emerging from behind a hill in the distance. With his vision, he could at best make out the number of carts present, but certainly couldn't tell what they held. From the team's direction of travel, it seemed that although it was parallel to the path on this side, they would eventually meet at some point.
"Speaking of fish dishes, I just cannot imagine what there could be. Something like the eel we had in Rubinhaigen?"
"The eel was simply fried in oil. With dishes demanding more effort to prepare, the fish may be steamed with vegetables or meats, roasted after adding a bit of vanilla, or prepared in a variety of other ways. There's also another kind of food, which is exclusive to the town that we will be arriving at soon."
"Oh?"
Horo's eyes gave off a dazzling glint. Beneath the covers, the tail that had been used in place of a lap furnace was wagging excitedly.
"I'll tell you what it is once we reach the town. Look forward to it."
Hearing Lawrence's teasing, Horo blew up her cheeks slightly, but of course this level of teasing wasn't enough to make her angry.
"How about buying some fish for dinner if the fish in the horse-drawn carts are of good quality?"
"I'm no good at determining the quality of fish. Ever since I once suffered losses over it, I have not dared to touch fish."
"Nothing to worry about, there are my eyes and nose." "Can you determine the quality of fish?"
"In that case, would you also like me to determine your quality?" Horo said in a mischievous tone. Lawrence could only surrender.
"Give me a break. But if there is good fish, we'll buy some and have it prepared at a store. It is also cheaper that way."
"Yea, leave it to me."
Although Lawrence couldn't tell where they would meet up with the team of carts that were possibly carrying fish, he realized that the distance between them was shortening, and therefore allowed his horse to continue along the path.
Lawrence glanced sideways at Horo, whose gaze was upon the distant carts, and thought-Come to think about it, when Horo mentioned using her eyes and nose to determine quality, she probably meant doing so based on appearance and smell.
If she could determine the quality of fish, then perhaps she really could do so for humans as well.
Even though Lawrence immediately realized the ridiculousness of his thoughts and smiled to himself, he couldn't help but feel a bit concerned.
Trying not to be conspicuous, Lawrence drew his nose close to his right shoulder and sniffed. He thought that, despite living a traveling lifestyle, he shouldn't smell overly bad. Besides, Horo herself hadn't had a change of clothes.
While thinking about this as if trying to find an excuse, he felt someone's gaze land on his left cheek.
Though Lawrence would have preferred not to meet that gaze, he nevertheless turned, to find Horo laughing silently.
"Seriously. You are so cute. It is most shameful for me (note: the literal translation is: "Where should I place my face," which is basically the same as the idea of "losing face.")."
Horo said with an incredulous look on her face. In the end, Lawrence was left speechless.
The river water flowed along very slowly, seeming almost immobile. Beside the river, the sight of people stopping to allow their horses to rest and get a drink of water, or to rearrange their load, began to appear. Among them was also a rare, traveling sword smith, who placed an upright sword off to the side in place of a sign and rested a cheek upon an arm over his stand, yawning boredly.
In addition, there was also the sight of a boatman arguing with a knight leading a horse upon a flat-bottomed boat parked along the side of a bridge. From the knight's simple equipment, it seemed possible that he was a messenger on his way to some fortress. Most likely, the boatman was unwilling to set out because of the insufficient number of passengers, hence the argument between them.
Because Lawrence had had the experience of losing his temper with an uncooperative boatman while in a hurry, the scene brought a strained smile to his face.
What had been a seemingly endless stretch of wild plains had gradually become a series of cultivated fields. Scattered farmers working in the fields could be seen ahead.
This change of scenery, flowing with signs of life, was something Lawrence could never get enough of. Just then, they finally caught up with the team of fish-transporting horse-drawn carts that they'd spotted earlier.
The team consisted of three carts aligned with one another, each drawn by two horses. The carts did not have driver seats installed. An elegantly dressed young man sat inside the very last cart, and three men, probably hired workers, controlled the horses as they walked.
Lawrence's first thoughts were how impressive the two-horse carts seemed, but upon closer inspection, he realized that the purpose of the two-horse arrangement was not at all to impress.
Upon the carts were placed barrels and wooden crates large enough to contain an entire person. A few of the barrels were filled with water for the fish to swim in.
Any fish that had not been treated with salt, regardless of species, was considered high grade. Needless to say, live fish were even more so.
Although the transport of live fish was indeed not something one would see everyday, what really surprised Lawrence was something else.
What surprised him was that the owner of this three-cart train transporting such high-quality goods was a merchant even younger than himself.
"Buying fish?"
The man sitting in the last cart replied from beneath his hood with the voice of a youngster after Lawrence had addressed him. He wore a greased leather coat commonly worn by fishmongers.
"Could you perhaps spare a few fish and sell them to me?"
Lawrence asked after exchanging places with Horo. Hearing this, the young fishmonger immediately replied: "I am terribly sorry. The fish we are selling have already been assigned to buyers."
The unexpected answer came as a surprise to Lawrence. His reaction was perceived by the young man, who promptly removed his hood to reveal his face.
Beneath the hood was a face matching the voice Lawrence had just heard, that of a youngster. Perhaps calling him a youngster was exaggerating a bit, but the face appeared to be less than twenty years old. Besides, fishmongers were for the most part rugged and tough-looking men, but the man standing before Lawrence was unusually slender. His blond hair, which danced in the blowing wind, gave off an air that could even be described as elegant.
Nevertheless, if the man was able to transport three carts-worth of fresh fish at once, then he was certainly not a merchant to be underestimated.
"Pardon me, could you be a traveling merchant?"
Although Lawrence couldn't tell whether the man's amiable smile was inherent or the smile of a businessman, he decided that whether it was the former or the latter, the only appropriate response was to smile back.
"Yes, I have just come from Rubinhaigen."
"I see. In that case, if you just follow the path we came from for about half a day, you will reach a lake. If you just consult with the fishermen there, you should be able to purchase some fish. The quality of carp caught during this season is quite good."
"Oh, no, I am not buying for business; I was just hoping you could spare a few fish for tonight's supper." The young fishmonger's smile suddenly turned into an expression of surprise, perhaps because this was the first time he'd ever heard anyone make such a request.
For fishmongers transporting salt-treated fish over a long distance, a request like this was quite common, but for one who was merely traveling between a town and a nearby lake, this was perhaps not something he'd be used to.
However, the young man's surprised expression quickly changed to one of contemplation.
Most likely, the expression was due to a situation contrary to his usual business sense, and he was pondering over the possibility of turning it into a new kind of business.
"You really are someone who is passionate about doing business," said Lawrence. Upon hearing this, the young fishmonger snapped back to reality with an audible exclamation, and smiled embarrassingly.
"Pardon me. Ah yes, you want to buy fish for tonight's supper, which means you will be staying in Kumerson tonight?"
"Yes, I am here to see the grand winter fair and festival."
Kumerson was the name of the town Lawrence was heading to. The town was currently holding the town-wide fair that took place each summer and winter.
In addition, in junction with the winter fair was a festival held at the same time.
Although Lawrence was unfamiliar with the details of the festival, he'd once heard it was a pagan festival radical enough to make a member of the Church faint.
The region arrived at after traveling six days north from the Church city of Rubinhaigen, which even today functioned as a supply base for punitive expeditions against pagans to the north, was a place where the relationship between members of the Orthodox religion and pagans was not as simple as in southern countries.
The vast region extending north from Rubinhaigen was controlled by the country of Proania, whose ruling class included many pagans. As such, it was only natural for Christians and pagans to coexist in the same town.
Kumerson belonged to the powerful aristocrats of Proania. It was a large-scaled town built with the purpose of promoting a prosperous economy, while distancing itself from complex religious issues.
Consequently, there was no Orthodox church in Kumerson, and missionary activities by members of the Orthodox religion were forbidden there. It was considered a taboo to ask whether the festival held there was Orthodox or pagan, and usually it was simply explained as a traditional festival belonging to Kumerson.
Because the festival itself was a rare occasion, and the fact that pagans could also come freely, this so-called Raddora festival seemed to attract a startling number of people each year.
Since Lawrence usually only came to Kumerson during summertime, he had never before witnessed the festival.
Lawrence had purposefully planned to arrive early according to what he had heard concerning the festival, but it seemed like he'd been overly naive.
"May I ask whether you have already booked an inn to stay at?" The young fishmonger inquired with a look of concern.
"The festival does not start until the day after tomorrow right? You are not trying to tell me there are no more places available are you?"
"That is exactly the case."
Horo shifted slightly next to Lawrence. Perhaps she was worried about not being able to book an inn. Although unsure of how it would be for Horo in wolf form, Horo in human form was just as susceptible to cold as any human. She was no doubt already sick of camping out in such a cold season. Even so, Lawrence had an alternative plan should this be the case.
"In that case, I do believe the town's foreign firms arrange inns for their members each year in coordination with the festival. I'll just ask the firm for help."
Requesting help from the foreign firm would most likely mean being thoroughly questioned concerning his relationship with Horo, so Lawrence would have preferred not to, but it seemed like the only remaining option under the circumstances.
"Ah, so you are a merchant belonging to a guild. Pardon me, but may I inquire as to which guild that is?" "The Rowen Trading Guild's firm in Kumerson."
The moment he heard this, the young fishmonger's expression brightened up instantly. "What a wonderful coincidence, I also belong to the Rowen Trading Guild."
"Oh, this must be God's guidance.oops, saying something like that is considered taboo in these parts huh?" "Ahaha, it is quite alright, I am also a Christian from the Southern countries."
The young fishmonger laughed for a moment before coughing lightly and continuing: "Then, allow me to introduce myself. I am Fermi Amati, a fish merchant working in Kumerson. In business, I go by Amati."
"I am traveling merchant Craft Lawrence. Likewise, I go by Lawrence."
Though the two people both gave their names sitting on their carts, because their distance was within hand's reach, they shook hands directly.
With that done, the next thing was for Lawrence to introduce Horo.
"This is my traveling companion, Horo. We are traveling together for a particular reason, but we are not married,"
Lawrence said with a smile. Horo, hearing this, leaned forward slightly and looked over at Amati with a smile.
Horo was indeed very charming when she was quiet and well-behaved.
Though Amati managed to reintroduce himself in a flustered manner, his cheeks had become bright-red. "Is Miss Horo a nun?"
"Basically, she is a traveling nun."
Going on a pilgrimage was not something restricted to devout males. Townswomen frequently made pilgrimages as well.
In addition, most women who were in the middle of a pilgrimage referred to themselves as traveling nuns. Compared to identifying themselves as town citizens on a pilgrimage, referring to themselves as traveling nuns was a more effective way of avoiding various problems.
However, because donning attire that would make one instantly recognizable as affiliated with the Church would pose problems upon entering Kumerson, people that were so dressed would habitually attach three feathers to their garments when entering town. As for Horo, she also had three brown, shabby-looking chicken feathers attached to her hood.
Although Amati, who had introduced himself as hailing from a Southern country, was young, he seemed to comprehend all of this instantly.
Amati did not question further, probably because he understood that there must have been a good reason for a traveling merchant to be traveling together with a young woman.
"Well then, I suppose running into problems every now and then can be considered as tests ordained by the heavens. The reason I say this is because, if there is need for only one room, then I may be able to arrange that, but unfortunately, arranging for two rooms would be somewhat difficult."
Amati's proposal came as a surprise to Lawrence. Perceiving this, Amati smiled and continued: "We belong to the same guild, so this must be God's guidance. If I just ask an inn with which I have business associations to help out, I am sure they would be willing to spare a room. If you were to bring your female companion with you to request help from the foreign firm, surely the old faces would pester you without end."
"Indeed, you are exactly right. But, would it really be fine to trouble you like this?"
"Of course. I am a merchant after all, so I am making this proposal for business purposes. In other words, I would like for you to enjoy plenty of delicious fresh fish during your stay at the inn."
Being capable of holding a deal worth three cartloads of fish at such a young age, Amati was indeed no ordinary character.
This was exactly what was meant by "flexible and considerate."
Lawrence's feelings were half of bitter regret and half of thankfulness as he responded: "You definitely have great business sense. Could you kindly arrange that then?"
"Aye, just leave it to me,"
Amati replied with a smile. For just a split second, his gaze shifted away from Lawrence. Although Lawrence pretended not to notice, he knew that the gaze was directed toward Horo. Lawrence began to wonder if Amati's proposal was perhaps not for the sake of doing business at all but rather to show off his best side to Horo.
Seeing something like this inevitably brought a slight sense of superiority to Lawrence, who was traveling with Horo. However, he also knew that filling his mind with such useless thoughts would surely cause Horo to tease him even more.
Lawrence shook the extra thoughts from his mind, and focused on building deep relations with the young and outstanding merchant before him.
Not long after that, Lawrence and the rest arrived in Kumerson as the sun was beginning to set in the west.
At the dining hall, the table was loaded with a variety of primarily fish and shellfish dishes placed around a large pot of hot soup, made with carp slices and root vegetables at the center.
Perhaps more or less due to the influence of the fishmonger Amati, who had helped to arrange for the inn, the main course and other dishes present contrasted sharply with the meat-oriented dishes typical to southern countries. Among these, the steamed snails proved to be the most eye-catching.
Because it was commonly said that sea-snails (note: a.k.a. conches) could slow aging, whereas river snails were the source of abdominal pains, people living in regions farther south from Kumerson did not eat snails, although they did eat double-shelled shellfish. The Church even claimed that demons dwelt within snail shells, and warned people not to eat them.
However, rather than calling it a teaching of God written in the Scriptures (note: I don't think the Bible actually mentions anything about this, but I could be wrong), it was probably more of a practical warning than anything else. Lawrence himself had once gotten lost during the course of his travels and, being unable to resist his unbearable hunger, fed on snails from a river, resulting in excruciating abdominal pain.
Ever since that experience, Lawrence hadn't dared to touch another snail, be it from river or sea. Luckily, the snails weren't served in individual portions, and Horo seemed to enjoy them just fine.
Lawrence left all the food he dared not eat to Horo. "Mmm.so this is what shellfish tastes like,"
Horo said, all the while stuffing herself with piece after piece of snail hooked out of the shell using the tip of a small knife borrowed from Lawrence. As for Lawrence, he was helping himself to a heavily-salted river barracuda.
"Careful. If you eat too much, you might get a stomachache." "Hmm?"
"Demons dwell within river snails. If you accidentally eat one, the consequences would be quite disastrous."
Horo glanced at the snail she had just removed from its shell, tilted her head slightly, then popped it into her mouth.
"Who do you think I am? Determining the quality of wheat is not the extent of my ability."
"Well, you even said it yourself that you once ate some red peppers with earthshaking consequences." Horo was a bit angered by what Lawrence had pointed out.
"It would be impossible even for me to determine taste purely from appearance. That thing was red all over, just like a ripe fruit,"
Horo said as she worked on removing another snail. Occasionally she would take a sip of the drink within her mug, then close her eyes tightly.
Because this region was not under the tight surveillance of the Church, distilled liquor, which the Church viewed as forbidden and had banned from public sales, was a common sight here.
Lawrence and Horo's mugs were filled with a nearly transparent liquor known as "burning wine." "Should I order some sweet liquor for you?"
"..."
Horo shook her head silently. The way she looked with her eyes tightly closed gave Lawrence the impression that he'd see a greatly swollen tail should Horo's robe be removed.
At last, Horo managed to gulp down the wine. She gave a long sigh before wiping the corners of her eyes with the mouth of her sleeve.
Drinking what was also known as a "soul-shaking liquor," Horo was of course not dressed as a nun. With a triangular kerchief tied to her head, she had on the appearance of a typical city girl.
Before supper, Lawrence had brought a changed Horo with him to thank Amati once again. The expression Amati showed back then was beyond hopeless. Not only Lawrence, but even the innkeeper looking on couldn't help bursting into laughter.
And Horo, as if to increase her sins even more, put even more effort than usual into playing the fair maiden while expressing thanks to Amati.
If Amati were able to see the manner with which she ate right now, surely his dreams would be shattered within an instant.
"...sip. What a nostalgic taste."
Either because the liquor was too strong, or because the memories of her hometown had been stirred up, Horo seemed a bit teary-eyed as she said this.
Indeed, the farther north one went, the higher the amount of soul-shaking liquor. "Even I'm clueless when it comes to distilled liquor with such high alcohol content."
Horo, who had gotten tired of shellfish and occasionally ate from a roasted or stewed fish dish replied cheerfully: "Appearance or shape is easily forgotten after ten years, but the taste or smell of something is not easily forgotten, even after many decades. The taste of this liquor is very similar to that of Yoitsu, and fills me with a sense of nostalgia."
"Strong liquor is more common in the North after all. Did you always drink stuff like this?"
Lawrence asked after glancing at the wine in his mug and then at Horo. Horo, with a bit of roasted fish stuck to a corner of her mouth, replied, her face full of pride: "Sweet liquor does not suit a sage wolf of such noble character, is not that so?"
Forget sweet liquor, Horo in human form looked like she was more suited to drinking honeyed milk, Lawrence thought, but smiled lightly in agreement anyway.
The wine's taste had no doubt triggered a nostalgic remembrance of Horo's hometown.
Although this was a delicious meal that she had not had the chance to enjoy for a long time, it was not the reason behind her smile.
Because of something beyond her expectations, Horo was deeply imprinted with the idea that she was getting closer and closer to Yoitsu. Just like a young maiden who'd received an unexpected gift, she was smiling from the depths of her heart.
Even so, Lawrence couldn't help removing his gaze from Horo in her current state.
Lawrence was not worried about accidentally losing himself, watching her like this, and being teased about it later.
All this way, Lawrence had concealed from Horo the legend he'd heard that Yoitsu had long since been destroyed.
The reality of this made Horo's innocent smile, sprouting from the remembrance of her hometown, as difficult to look upon as the blinding sun.
Still, Lawrence was unwilling to break the cheerful dining atmosphere that was so hard to come by.
In order to prevent Horo from seeing through his thoughts, Lawrence forcefully changed his mood, revealing a smile to Horo, who was just then reaching out for a piece of stewed carp.
"Looks like stewed carp really suits your tastes."
"Yea, I did not know that cooked carp...was this delicious. One more bowl."
Because the stewed carp was served in a large pot that was out of Horo's reach, it was Lawrence who helped her to it. Every time he did so, more onions were added to his own wooden plate. It appeared that Horo couldn't tolerate even cooked onions.
"Where have you ever eaten carp before? There shouldn't be that many places where it is available." "Hmm? In a river. Carps are easy to catch because of their clumsy movement."
So that's how it was. Horo must have been in wolf form when she caught the fish. "I've never had carp raw. Is it any good?"
"The scales get stuck in the teeth, and the bones are too numerous. I had always believed it was good, watching the small birds swallow it whole. Raw fish does not appeal to me."
Lawrence tried to picture Horo biting loudly on a large carp from the anterior end.
Carps were famous for their long life spans. Besides referring to the carp as a sacred fish, the Church also called it a minion of the devil (note: ok, so it's holy AND evil, whatever that means.). Consequently, carps were only eaten in the Northern regions.
Indeed, it would seem quite foolish to honor the slightly long-lived carp in a region that held wolves like Horo.
"Human-prepared food is indeed good. However, not only is the cooking good, but each handpicked fish is very fresh. That child Amati has a good eye for fish."
"He's very young, and the number of fish in his deal was quite amazing." "By contrast, what is it that you are carrying?"
Horo's gaze suddenly turned cold.
"Huh? They're nails. Like this table...it doesn't have any..."
"Of course I know they are nails. What I meant was that you should have bought something more impressive. Or, have you been daunted by the failure at Rubinhaigen?"
Lawrence, hearing this, couldn't help but feel a bit angered, but seeing as how Horo had simply pointed out the truth, he had no way of refuting.
Because of his own greed, he had bought battle equipment at the astonishing price of twice his own worth, resulting in a crisis that almost led to bankruptcy and ending his days as a slave. Not only that, Lawrence had caused much trouble for Horo as well as caused her to suffer great shame.
Taking all this into account, Lawrence had finally chosen to buy about four hundred Trenni silver coins' worth of nails, quite a conservative purchase. As a result, Lawrence was left with a fairly good amount of cash.
"Though the merchandise may not be so eye-catching, the profits should be pretty decent. Besides, my cart isn't completely filled with unattractive items."
Like a cat, Horo directed her gaze toward Lawrence holding a river barracuda bone in her mouth, her head slightly tilted.
Lawrence had come up with a good line.
He cleared his throat lightly, before opening his mouth to say: "I have you on my cart."
Although the line sounded rather affected, Lawrence himself seemed to think it was beautifully said, and couldn't suppress an involuntary laugh.
Yet, even as he laughed, drank wine, and looked in Horo's direction, he noticed that Horo had stopped what she was doing, and wore a look of resignation.
"...Well, I suppose this is the extent of your level." Then, having said this, Horo gave a sigh.
"It wouldn't hurt to be just a bit more considerate you know!"
"As soon as a male is treated too kindly, he will quickly become conceited. If he were to become accustomed to this kind of treatment, so that the other is forced to hear the same words over and over again, how very tedious that would be."
"Erh..."
Lawrence decided that remaining silent simply wouldn't do, and so disputed: "Alright, then from now on I-"
"Foolish mule."
Lawrence's words were cut off.
"How much money is it worth for a male to behave kindly?" "..."
Silently, Lawrence drank some wine with pursed brows, but the hunting wolf refused to let him off the hook. "Besides, whenever I appear dejected, you would want to treat me kindly, would you not?"
Watching Horo utter this with an innocent smile on her face, Lawrence was all out of ideas. Horo was just way too cunning.
Lawrence stared at Horo with a look of resentment, upon which Horo returned a most benevolent smile.
By the time Lawrence and Horo had finished their long-anticipated decent supper and returned to their room, the streets outside the inn had at last quieted down.
Although it had already been sunset when they arrived in Kumerson, the level of chaos within the town far exceeded Lawrence's imagination.
If they hadn't run into Amati, Lawrence most certainly would have had to head to the foreign firm and request its help in arranging an inn. Not only that, he may have ended up having to stay in a room at the firm.
Arrays of wheat dolls of unknown origin and wooden sculptures could be seen everywhere in Kumerson's streets. Not only the streets, even the narrow alleys were filled with bands and clowns leading spectators round and round.
In a large plaza located at the southern end of Kumerson, the marketplace, whose business hours had been greatly extended, was still open. The entire plaza was overflowing with a vitality fitting to the reputation of a town-wide fair. Not only that, even the craftsmen who were normally not permitted to sell merchandise had set up vending stands along the large streets outside the marketplace.
Lawrence opened the wooden window to cool off his body, which seemed to be burning up due to the effects of the strong liquor. Beneath the beautiful moonlight, Lawrence could see that a few street peddlers had already begun to wrap up.
The inn that Amati had arranged for Lawrence and Horo was a top-quality inn that was among Kumerson's finest, an inn that Lawrence normally wouldn't even consider staying at. Their room was on the second floor, and faced a large street extending north and south from the center of town. The inn itself was located near an intersection with another large street that ran east and west. As Horo had wished, the room contained two beds. However, Lawrence strongly suspected that such an arrangement was the result of Amati's forcefully persistent efforts.
Although his guesses brought him a slight sense of superiority, Lawrence was still thankful to Amati for having arranged a place for them to stay, so he directed his gaze out the window and decided not to make any more blind guesses.
Out on the broad streets, it seemed like everyone was walking in staggers.
Lawrence smiled mildly and turned around to find Horo sitting cross-legged on her bed pouring some wine into a wooden mug, looking as if she still hadn't had enough of drinking.
"I say you, if you end up in agony tomorrow, I won't care. Have you already forgotten the painful hangover you had back in Pattio (a.k.a. Pazzio in some translations)?" said Lawrence.
"Mm-? Do not worry. Good liquor will not have side effects no matter how much you drink (note: kids, don't try this at home). However, if I do not drink, my heart will suffer side effects, so how could I not drink?"
Having finished pouring, Horo took a happy sip, and bit a piece of dried salmon left over from supper. Lawrence felt that if he just let Horo have her own way, she would no doubt eat and drink till she passed out with drunkenness. Yet, to Lawrence, Horo's good mood was most welcome.
This was because there was something Lawrence had great difficulty telling Horo.
The reason Lawrence had altered his usual business route, coming to Kumerson which he normally only visited during the summer in the cold winter season, was of course because he was heading toward Horo's hometown.
Even so, Lawrence had never asked Horo about the precise location of Yoitsu. Although Lawrence had heard the name of the town mentioned before, it was only part of a legend, and so he was unsure of its exact geographical location.
The reason Lawrence had not questioned Horo about its exact location was because whenever Yoitsu was mentioned, Horo would always show a nostalgic smile but subsequently appear forlorn after remembering how great a distance they were from Yoitsu both time and space-wise.
Although Lawrence thought himself feckless, even this reason alone was enough to make him hesitate about bringing up the subject of her hometown.
However, Lawrence felt that Horo would probably not be saddened so much if the subject was brought up right now. Thus, Lawrence made his decision, sat down at the desk against the wall, and said: "Oh yeah, before you pass out with drunkenness, there's something I want to talk to you about." Horo's exposed ears and tail showed an immediate response.
Her gaze was a step later in turning to Lawrence. "What is it?"
The clever wolf seemed to detect from Lawrence's tone that his intention was not in making conversation. A faint smile surfaced from the corners of her mouth, a clear indicator of her current good mood. Lawrence slowly opened his heavy lips and said: "It's about your hometown."
Hearing Lawrence cut right to the subject thus, Horo suddenly laughed silently and took a sip of wine. Lawrence had been certain that Horo's expression would turn serious, so her reaction took him quite by surprise.
Lawrence was just wondering whether Horo was already drunk when she gulped down the liquor in her mouth and spoke: "You do not know where it is after all. I figured as much, and worried about when you were going to ask me about it."
Having said this, Horo looked smilingly at her reflection in the mug as she continued with a sigh: "You must believe that bringing up any topic related to Yoitsu would cause me grief, correct? Do I really look that fragile?
Lawrence had planned to point out the time she cried over a dream about her hometown, but figured that she was probably aware of this herself. Horo's tail seemed to be wagging happily.
"No, not at all," he replied.
"Foolish mule, you are supposed to say "yes" in times like these."
Horo seemed to have gotten the answer she wanted. She seemed even happier as she wagged her tail.
"You concern yourself over such strange things. You managing to bring up this topic must mean you felt it was alright after seeing my reaction at supper? Seriously.such a softy."
Horo smiled a bit embarrassingly as she drank and talked.
"To me, your considerateness is not altogether unpleasant. But, perhaps I should say that foolish look of yours is interesting to look at. If you had continued to remain silent, only to find out that you had gone in the wrong direction after already reaching the North, what would you have done then?"
Lawrence replied with a shrug. He continued to reveal his purpose: "In order to prevent the foolish-looking me from taking the wrong path, could you tell me the location of Yoitsu?"
Horo took a sip of wine, and paused briefly. Then, she gave a soft long sigh.
"To be honest, I do not remember it clearly."
As if to cut off Lawrence's "Don't joke around," Horo continued: "If the direction is needed, I can tell that right away. It is over there."
Lawrence looked in the direction that Horo had quickly pointed to, and understood immediately that she meant north.
"However, I cannot remember at all how many peaks need to be scaled, rivers passed, and plains traversed. I believed that I would naturally remember once we got close. Is that not alright?"
"You don't have any clues to find the location? The path doesn't just head in a straight line, and it'll be very difficult finding a reliable map once we get to the North. Some locations can't even be reached without taking roundabout paths. Do you remember the names of any nearby towns? We might be able to use those as clues, " said Lawrence.
Horo pondered for a moment, and said with an index finger against her temple: "The town names I can recall are Yoitsu and Nyohhira. There was also.uhm, what was it.Pi." "Pi?"
"Pire, Piro.yes, Piromorden."
Seeing Horo's cheerful expression, as if she had gotten out something stuck in her chest, Lawrence said with a slight tilt of his head: "Never heard of such a town. Any others?"
"Uhm-there were indeed a number of towns, but not all of them with names like today. We just needed to say a town was on the other side of a certain mountain to know its location, so there was no need to give names."
Indeed, Lawrence had been surprised by this the first time he went to the North to do business. Back then, Lawrence had arrived at a certain town, to find out that its name was known only to travelers. Neither the town residents nor the people living in the outskirts knew the name of the town.
Lawrence had even encountered an elderly citizen who said that naming a town causes it to become the target of evil deities.
The so-called "evil deities" must have been referring to the Church.
"Well, let's just use Nyohhira as a starting point then. If it's Nyohhira, then I still know the location," said Lawrence.
"That is a nostalgic name. Do hot waters still spring from that region?"
"I've heard that although it is a pagan town, many bishops and kings still secretly travel great distances to bathe appreciatively in its hot springs. There's a rumor that, because of its hot springs, Nyohhira is exempt from attacks by anti-pagan armies," Lawrence explained.
"After all, only the hot springs there are not part of anyone's domain,"
Horo said with a smile, then followed up with "In that case" before clearing her throat softly. "If this were Nyohhira, then it would be in that direction."
Horo was pointing to the southwest. Lawrence loosened up slightly, seeing as how Horo had not pointed farther north.
If it was located even farther north than Nyohhira, then it would no doubt be a place where snow wouldn't melt even when summer came.
Even so, the scope was still too large if all that was known was that it was southwest of Nyohhira. "How long would it take to get from Nyohhira to Yoitsu?" asked Lawrence.
"At my speed, it would take two days. For a human.I do not know."
Lawrence remembered riding on Horo's back near Rubinhaigen. Surely Horo could easily and swiftly traverse unpaved regions.
With that in mind, the scope would indeed be too large using Nyohhira as a starting point for investigation. Searching for a particular town within that scope, or possibly even a small village, would be like looking for a needle in a desert. Precisely because Lawrence was a traveling merchant, whose work involved traveling among towns scattered throughout the vast world, he understood the difficulty of the task all too well.
Besides, there was mention in the legend Lawrence had heard of Yoitsu's destruction by a great bear demon. Should the legend be true, finding the ruins of a town that had been destroyed centuries ago would be impossible.
Lawrence was not an aristocrat, who could pass all of his days in leisure. If he were to stray from his usual business route and linger in other regions, he could last half a year at best. Besides, his failure in Rubinhaigen had placed him even further away from his dream of opening up his own town shop and consequently, he had even less time to lose.
Just as Lawrence was pondering these things, the words that had formed in his mind flowed naturally from his mouth: "Couldn't you go back by yourself from Nyohhira? You know the direction don't you?"
If the distance between Nyohhira and Yoitsu was only about two days, then as Horo had said, she would surely remember the way once she was near.
Having considered this, Lawrence had said what he did without any other intention. However, as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he realized that he had erred.
Because Horo was looking at him with a stunned expression.
A look of surprise surfaced on Lawrence's face. At the same moment, Horo looked away. "Yea.yes. If I got to Nyohhira, I would no doubt remember the way back to Yoitsu."
Having said this, Horo gave a forced smile. Just as Lawrence was wondering what was going on, he suddenly exclaimed audibly.
Horo had once said, at the estuary town of Pattio, that loneliness was fatal.
Loneliness inspired this much fear for Horo. Although Lawrence had meant no ill, Horo was still prone to taking it in a negative way. Besides, she had had a lot to drink.
It was possible that Horo would even interpret it as a sign that Lawrence was getting tired of searching for her hometown. Lawrence quickly added: "Wait a minute, don't take it negatively. If you could reach it in two days, then I could just wait for you in Nyohhira."
"Yea, that would be enough. You will take me straight to Nyohhira? I was hoping to see a few more towns." The dialogue had been joined together seamlessly. Yet, Lawrence felt a bit disappointed, because he perceived that the seamless joining was the result of Horo's quick-witted reaction. In spite of the harmony on the surface, there was a rift beneath.
It had been hundreds of years since Horo left her hometown. Just as what Lawrence had heard in the legends, Horo had no doubt at least thought of the possibility that Yoitsu no longer existed, and even if she hadn't, the number of years she had seen was itself sufficient to bring about huge changes to the world. Surely Horo's heart was filled with uncertainty.
Horo must have been afraid of going to her hometown alone.
The innocent smile she had shown when the taste of wine had reminded her of Yoitsu, perhaps that was precisely an opposite reaction triggered by her uncertainty.
Pondering this for a moment, it became easy to understand Horo's mentality. Lawrence felt deeply regretful over his careless remark.
"Listen, I'll do everything within my ability to help you. What I said just now was-"
"Did I not just say how much it is worth for a male to behave kindly? You, do not be so considerate, it will be troublesome for me."
Horo's forced smile was mixed with a troubled expression. Setting her mug under the bed, she continued: "I am so terrible, always judging everything by my own standards. After all, in the blink of an eye, you and everyone else will already be old. I always seem to forget that with such a brief lifespan, how important a single year must be."
The moonbeams projected through the wooden window shrouded Horo's body. In that instant, the image before Lawrence seemed almost an illusion, so that he hesitated to approach. He was afraid that Horo would vanish as a dispersing cloud of mist if he got too close.
Horo at last lifted her face, which had been facing down ever since she set down her mug, and sure enough, she still wore a troubled smile.
"You really are such a softy. Such an expression really troubles me a great deal."
What was the best thing to say in this situation? Lawrence could not formulate the appropriate words in his mind.
At this moment and place, it was clear that a rift had formed between the two.
Yet Lawrence could not find the words to fix this rift. Even if he were to come up with a lie, it would be useless against Horo.
Most importantly, Horo's words had made it even more difficult for Lawrence to say anything. Lawrence couldn't bring himself to say something like, "No matter how long it takes, I'll find Yoitsu and take you there." Merchants were overly-practical creatures, practical to the point of not being able to utter such a line. To Lawrence, the centuries-old Horo was too faraway an existence.
"It is I who have forgotten the obvious. Because it has been so comfortable by your side, I accidentally...became a bit spoiled,"
Horo said with a shy smile, her ears trembling slightly in embarrassment. Such maiden-like talk perhaps came from the bottom of her heart.
Yet, hearing this did not make Lawrence happy at all. Because Horo's words seemed almost like a farewell.
"Heh, it seems like I am drunk. Must to bed, else I do not know what other things I will end up saying."
Horo had not fallen into silence. The way she talked as if to herself made it seem all the more like she was simply pretending to be strong.
Yet till the very end, Lawrence had been unable to speak to Horo.
The one thing Lawrence could do was to be mindful that Horo didn't pack up and leave once everything had settled into a dead sullenness. Although he didn't think this would actually happen, he also felt on the other hand that Horo seemed like someone who would do such a thing.
However, Lawrence felt so powerless for only being able to do so much, and wanted badly to yell at himself loudly.
The night deepened noiselessly.
Through the closed wooden window could be heard the merry laughter of a drunkard, but hearing this only multiplied Lawrence's sense of emptiness.
It is said that, even under the most worrisome circumstances, a merchant will always manage to fall asleep at night.
Even though Lawrence had been worrying constantly about whether or not Horo would leave alone, when he came to, the sound of singing birds could already be heard through the wooden window.
Although Lawrence wasn't one to lose his composure and jump up from his bed in a flustered manner, when he had directed his gaze toward the adjacent bed and made sure that Horo had not left, he let out a sigh of relief.
Lawrence got out of bed, opened the wooden window, and poked his head outside. It was already quite cold inside, but the morning air outside was even more so. Lawrence's exhaled breaths appeared whiter than mist.
However, the sky outside was clear and brilliant, a morning like a crystal.
People had already begun appearing in the large street in front of the inn. As Lawrence watched the town merchants, who woke up even earlier than the early-waking traveling merchants, he went through a mental checklist of the entire day's agenda before uttering an "Alright" to drive his motivation.
Though not exactly to make up for the previous night's failure, Lawrence felt that in order to fully enjoy the festival that would start the next day with Horo, it was best to take care of all the trivial matters today.
"First I have to sell off the merchandise I brought from Rubinhaigen," Lawrence thought as he turned around to face the interior.
Although a night had already gone by, Lawrence was still feeling a bit heavy-hearted, but he still intended to wake up his companion who was as yet still fast asleep, and so approached the bed. At this moment, he suddenly gave a frown.
Because Horo frequently slept till noon like an aristocrat, Lawrence wasn't much concerned over the fact that she was still sleeping, but he had suddenly noticed something.
Horo wasn't producing the carefree snore that she usually did.
"It couldn't be." Lawrence thought to himself and reached forth with his hand. Horo seemed to have noticed. The covers over her body moved slightly.
Lawrence lifted the covers gently. Then let out a sigh.
Horo's face appeared beneath the covers, her expression frailer than that of an abandoned kitten. "You got another hangover?"
Because it was painful for Horo to move her head, she could only respond by moving her ears slowly.
Lawrence wanted very much to say something to scold Horo, but having recalled the happenings of the previous night, he swallowed his words. Besides, Lawrence didn't think Horo would have paid attention anyway.
"I'll prepare a jar of water later, and a pail just in case. You just be good and sleep."
Lawrence intentionally emphasized the words "be good," but Horo was still only able to respond by moving her ears weakly.
Even if he said it a thousand times, it would be impossible for Horo to simply be good and do whatever he said. However, seeing as how she was in such pain, it was probably unlikely that she would drag herself outside. Therefore, she couldn't possibly pack up and leave in Lawrence's absence. Having considered this, Lawrence loosened up a bit.
Of course, Lawrence had already considered that this could just be Horo's acting, but no matter how skilled the acting, it would be impossible to change one's complexion as well.
Lawrence carefully pondered all of these things. Without speaking to Horo, he swiftly made preparations for going out. Lawrence then once again approached Horo, who was incapable of even turning her body, and said to her: "The festival doesn't officially start until tomorrow. You don't have to be anxious."
Horo's barely-alive and completely powerless face, which looked well beyond suffering, immediately showed a relieved expression. Seeing this, Lawrence couldn't help laughing.
To Horo, the festival seemed of more concern than her suffering from a hangover. "I'll return for a bit around noon."
Horo's ears remained motionless; she didn't seem to be interested in what was just said.
Lawrence could only smile a strained smile at such a bold reaction. At this moment, Horo opened her eyes slowly, a smile surfacing from the corners of her mouth.
Horo seemed to have done that on purpose.
Lawrence gave a shrug before pulling the covers over Horo's head. He was certain that she was laughing at him under the covers.
Even if he was being laughed at, it seemed like the unhappy atmosphere of the previous night had not lasted till today, at which Lawrence was able to relax a bit. Before leaving the room, Lawrence turned to look in Horo's direction once more. The front part of her tail that was exposed outside the covers wagged twice, as if waving.
"Guess I'll buy something tasty for Horo on my way back," Lawrence thought as he quietly closed the door.
Basically, the ruler of any town would not approve of people doing business before the bell toll signaling the opening of the marketplace had rung; this was especially true for doing business within the marketplace.
However, depending on the particular time or occasion, this rule was not always strictly enforced. In Kumerson, during the period in which the town fair was being held, in order to alleviate the over-crowdedness following the opening of the marketplace, people were even half-encouraged to do business outside of normal business hours.
As a result, even so early in the morning, when the sun was just beginning to emerge from behind the buildings, a large number of merchants were already working in the marketplace, which took up over half the total area of Kumerson's southern square.
Within the marketplace could be seen wooden crates and piles of gunnysacks placed in the corners, as well as pigs, chicken and other livestock tied in the small spaces between the merchandise and vending stands. In addition, due to the fact that within this region so distant from the sea, Kumerson was the largest fish-exporting town, live fish could also be seen swimming in large barrels much like the ones Amati had been transporting the previous day.
Just as Horo would be unable to remain calm when faced with arrays of food vendors, Lawrence had naturally become excited in the face of such a great variety of merchandise.
How much profit could be gained by transporting that item to that town? The quantity of that item is so large, which means it must be in oversupply somewhere, so its price should have lowered? Thoughts as these continually surfaced in Lawrence's mind.
When Lawrence had first become a traveling merchant, because he lacked knowledge about the prices of the various merchandise, he could only run about randomly in the marketplace. Now, however, he was able to discern a great number of things instantly.
Once a merchant had fully grasped the intricate netlike product relationship map, he became an alchemist (note: alchemists in this time period mainly tried to produce gold out of lesser metals. Thus, the implication here is that a merchant could produce money out of a good understanding of product relationships).
Lawrence couldn't help becoming a bit drunk on this smart-sounding description, but he soon remembered his failure in Rubinhaigen, which brought a strained smile to his face.
Constantly looking up greedily often caused one to misstep accidentally.
Lawrence took a deep breath to calm his frivolous spirit before regaining the reins and continuing further into the marketplace. The vending stand Lawrence had finally arrived at was already in business early in the morning just like any other. The owner of the stand used to be a traveling merchant just like Lawrence, and was a year different from Lawrence age-wise. However, he now owned a stand in the marketplace equipped with a roof. Despite his stand not being great in scale, he was, surely enough, a proper town-dwelling wheat merchant. Concerning this point, both the owner himself as well as others considered it a blessing from the goddess of fortune. As for the defining characteristic of town merchants in this region, which was trimming their facial hair so as to shape their faces like a square, the facial hair on this owner's face certainly had the right look.
The moment he realized Lawrence's presence, the wheat merchant named Mark Cole blinked continuously in amazement, then revealed a smile and lightly raised his hand in greeting.
The merchant who had been talking business with Mark also turned his gaze toward Lawrence and nodded a greeting. Because chance encounters often led to good business prospects, Lawrence responded with his usual business smile, and gestured for the merchant to proceed with his business talk.
"Ri, si bon dia mito. Vant errje." "Haha. Pireje, bao."
It seemed like the business talk was just ending. The merchant exchanged a few words with Mark in a language Lawrence didn't understand before going off. Of course, the merchant hadn't forgotten to show Lawrence a business smile as he was preparing to leave.
Lawrence memorized the merchant's face so that he would recognize him should he encounter him again in another town.
Such small actions, accumulated over time, could potentially bring about unexpected profits.
Only when the merchant, who had apparently come from somewhere in the North to do business had disappeared in the crowd did Lawrence step down from his cart.
"Looks like I interrupted your business talk."
"Not at all. That guy was just telling me passionately about the greatness of the god of Pitora Mountain. Good thing you came and saved me,"
Mark said as he sat on a wooden bench rolling up a sheet of goatskin paper, smiling with a look on his face that said he had just about had enough.
Like Lawrence, Mark was a merchant belonging to the Rowen Trading Guild. Their acquaintance resulted from coming to the same marketplace at the same time each year to do business. Because they had known each other since they were both just beginners in the trade, they were not so formal with each other in speech.
"If I'd known earlier, I wouldn't have learned their language. Though those guys aren't bad in character, as soon as they find out that someone knows their language, they start passionately proclaiming the grace of their local god."
"Compared to a god who's not even willing to take a step out of his gold-coin-filled shrine, perhaps a local god really does provide more grace," said Lawrence. Hearing this, Mark tapped gently on his head with the roll of goatskin paper, and replied with an easy smile: "Haha, that must be it. Besides, I heard that most harvest deities are beautiful women."
The image of Horo's face appeared in Lawrence's mind. He smiled and nodded in agreement. Although, he kept the thought, "But with terrible personalities" to himself.
"But, let's stop talking about such things, lest I get a scolding from my wife. Let's talk business then. You did come to talk business, didn't you?"
Mark's casual conversational expression had transformed into a business expression. Though there was no need for formal speech between the two, their relationship was after all based upon the standpoint of calculating merchants. Lawrence changed to a serious expression as well before opening his mouth to speak: "I brought some nails from Rubinhaigen. Would you like to buy them?"
"Nails? I own a wheat store. Did you hear somewhere that people were starting to nail up wheat sacks?" Mark responded.
"I was thinking that many people from up north would be coming here to stock up on necessary supplies in preparation for the long winter. I just thought that you could perhaps sell some nails along with your wheat. As a countermeasure against the snow, nails are a must for repairing houses right?"
Mark's line of sight circled once through the air before falling back on Lawrence. "There is demand for it indeed, but nails huh.how many do you have?"
"120 three-patte (note: apparently a unit of measure for length) ones, 200 four-patte ones, and another 200 five-patte ones. In terms of quality, there's an attached letter of guarantee issued by the Rubinhaigen Blacksmith's Guild."
Mark scratched his cheek with the roll of goatskin paper and sighed softly. It was a habit of town merchants to tease people in this manner.
"10-and-a-half Rumiones and I'll buy them from you," he said.
"What's the exchange rate of Rumiones, in terms of Trenni silver coins?" "It was 34 right when the market closed yesterday. So that's...357."
"Too little."
This amount was even lower than the amount Lawrence had spent in his purchase. Hearing Lawrence's immediate reaction, Mark said with a frown: "Haven't you heard the news about the price crash of battle equipment? Because the Northern military expedition was canceled this year, swords and armor are all being sold at extremely low prices. In other words, the amount of melted metal has increased, so the market value of nails has probably fallen as well. Even ten Rumione could be considered expensive."
Lawrence had already predicted that Mark would make such an argument, and so replied coolly: "That's only the case for southern regions, isn't it? Even if the amount of metal that can be melted has increased, that doesn't match the continuously-rising price of the raw material needed to melt metal. If you can find a place to melt metal in Proania during this season, then I'd sure like to see it with my own eyes. If anyone dared to do such a thing, I'm sure someone would split his head in half with a wood-splitting axe."
When winter came, the supply of firewood in snowing regions would freeze. Consequently, melting metal for iron forging, which required huge amounts of firewood to be thrown into furnaces, did not occur during the winter season. If someone did forge iron in the winter, the price of firewood that served as the fuel would immediately skyrocket, and he would incur the furious curses of the town residents. That being true, even with the increase in supply of swords and armor that could be used as raw materials for making nails, the price of nails in this region would not be influenced.
Any merchant with some experience would possess this level of common sense. Surely enough, Mark said with a malicious smile: "Seriously. Please stop trying to sell nails to a wheat merchant will ya? If it were wheat, I'd be able to come up with a variety of reasons to haggle; but as for nails, that's beyond my field."
"Then, how about sixteen Rumione?" Lawrence offered. "Too expensive. Thirteen Rumione."
"Fifteen."
"Fourteen-and-two-thirds."
Mark, slightly shorter than Lawrence and neither fat nor thin, exerted an air akin to an unshakable pillar. That was Mark's way of showing that he would yield no further.
Demanding too forcefully would ruin their relationship, so Lawrence nodded and, reaching out his right hand said: "This price settles it then." "Haha, that's my good buddy."
For Mark, this price was probably already yielding a lot.
Theoretically, under the identity of a wheat merchant in charge of a wheat shop, Mark was not permitted to buy or sell nails. Each guild had rules governing the types of merchandise that could be sold in each shop. When attempting to sell a new product, it was necessary to either acquire the permission of merchants already selling the same product or to share the profits with them.
Although at first glance this seemed like an unfair rule that would hinder the successful carrying out of business deals, in the absence of such a rule, large and wealthy companies would soon swallow up the entire market. The rule was established precisely to prevent such a situation.
"Then, do you want cash or credit?" Mark inquired. "Oh, credit."
"Excellent. A lot of places are charging cash this time of year. It's such a pain."
Although it was permissible for merchants to conduct deals using credit or written receipts, if person selling was a resident of another village or town who demanded cash for the imported goods, such a method would be invalid.
Yet, insufficient cash currency was a problem that afflicted all towns. With insufficient cash, the person buying would be unable to complete a business deal even if he otherwise possessed the financial resources necessary to buy the product. As for an illiterate farmer, a written receipt was good only for blowing his nose.
Out in the wilderness, a sword-wielding knight was the most powerful presence; in a town, however, the most powerful presence was one who possessed cash. This was perhaps the reason behind how the Church was able to gain such financial power. Being able to collect cash in the form of alms on a weekly basis, this would only be natural.
"Furthermore, credit is fine, but there's something I'd like you to help me with," said Lawrence.
Mark had stood up from his bench and was just preparing to go and pick up the nails from within the cart. Hearing Lawrence say this, he immediately turned his gaze toward Lawrence, making no attempt to conceal his wary look.
"It's really not such a big deal. I plan on taking care of some business up north. Could you help me ask some Northerners about the roads and regions there? Like the customer just now, he was from the North wasn't he?"
Hearing something unrelated to the gains and losses of business, Mark's expression loosened up visibly. Seeing Mark's obviously intentional expression, Lawrence could only smile a strained smile. Mark must be using this chance to get a bit of payback for having just bought those nails at a price so advantageous to the other party, Lawrence thought to himself.
"Oh, if it's something like that then it's no problem at all. But in that case, it would've been easier for you just to come here in the summer like you did every other year. Seeing as how you've purposely decided to head north in the winter, I'm guessing it must be something really important huh," said Mark.
"Aye, there's something I need to take care of, but it doesn't have to do with making money."
"Hahaha, looks like even a continuously-moving traveling merchant can't free himself completely from the world's formalities. So, where do you plan to head to?"
"My destination is a place called Yoitsu. Have you heard of it?"
Mark tilted his head and, lifting a shrewd eyebrow, laid a hand on the edge of the cart and spoke: "Haven't heard of it. But, the towns and villages we haven't heard of are probably as numerous as the number of hairs on a cow. All you need is to find someone who's heard about it?"
"Oh, no no, I plan on heading to Nyohhira first, so if you could just try asking around for the location of Yoitsu," Lawrence replied.
"Oh, got it. If it's Nyohhira you're heading to, then you need to go through Doran Plain." "It's easy communicating with you."
Mark nodded as he slapped his chest, as if to say, "Just don't worry and leave it to me." If it was Mark, surely he'd be able to collect the information necessary for travel.
It was precisely with this expectation that Lawrence had come to sell nails to the wheat merchant Mark. However, in such a busy period, if he had only come to ask for assistance in collecting information, not only would it have troubled his conscience, Mark probably wouldn't have been very happy about it either.
Taking this under consideration, Lawrence had come to sell nails to Mark. Lawrence knew well that Mark had associated blacksmiths. In other words, Mark could immediately resell the nails he had purchased from Lawrence to earn what would probably be a pretty decent profit.
In addition, Mark could even ask the buying party to pay part of the payment in cash when selling the nails. For a wheat merchant, this time of year was the last chance to make money, and compared to making slight profits, being able to obtain some hard cash was even more to be happy about.
As Lawrence had predicted, Mark readily agreed to help. And so, Lawrence had finished making the necessary preparations for gathering traveling information.
"Ah yes, there's one more thing I wanted to ask you. Don't worry, this'll be over quickly." "Do I really look that stingy?"
Mark said with a strained smile. Lawrence smiled in response as well before speaking: "Does Kumerson have any chroniclers?"
Hearing this, Mark answered with an astounded expression: "Chroni.cler? You mean those fellows who write town diaries all day long?"
Chroniclers referred to historiographers who received rewards from the Church or nobles for recording town or community histories.
But hearing Mark refer to them negatively as "fellows who wrote town diaries", Lawrence couldn't help laughing.
Besides, Lawrence was greatly amused by Mark's not-entirely-fitting yet not-so-far-off-the-mark description.
"Surely they'd be angered if they heard you say that," said Lawrence.
"All they have to do is sit in a chair and write words all day to earn money. It's an annoying sight."
"I'm sure they wouldn't be so happy about being criticized by someone who managed to become a town shop owner under such fortuitous circumstances."
Mark's fortuitous experience was a famous story in the town.
Having perceived that Mark had run out of words with which to argue, Lawrence changed his expression to a smile and spoke: "So, are there any?"
"Hmm...I think so, but it's better not to associate with them."
Mark reached his hand into Lawrence's cart to pick up the bags of nails as he continued: "I heard they were regarded as infidels by the monastery of some region, and came here seeking refuge. I'm sure you already know there're plenty of people here like that?"
Compared to the conflict between Christians and pagans, the town of Kumerson was more concerned with economic development and thus, the authority of the Church was naturally kept outside its gates.
Consequently, large numbers of natural scholars, thinkers, and infidels sought refuge in Kumerson.
"I just wanted to ask a few things. Chroniclers also collect things like local legends and myths right? I wanted to ask something related to that," said Lawrence.
"Why would you be interested in stuff like that? So that you might have topics for conversation during your trip north?"
"That's about right. So I was thinking, it probably wouldn't be such a good idea to suddenly intrude on them. Do you happen to know anyone who could introduce me?"
Mark tilted his head slightly for a brief moment. Then, holding the bags of nails in one hand, he turned his head around and called out loudly.
A young boy walked out from behind a mountainous pile of wheat sacks within the shop. Since sometime unbeknownst to Lawrence, Mark had already become a merchant qualified to accept apprentices.
"There is a person. It'd be better if it were also someone from Rowen right?
Mark said as he handed a bag of nails to his apprentice. Seeing Mark like this, Lawrence's desire to find Yoitsu as soon as possible and return to his usual business routine became more intense than ever.
However, if such a thought were perceived by Horo, things would become rather troublesome. Besides, he also didn't want to part ways with Horo so soon.
Even Lawrence himself was unable to come to terms with these two conflicting moods. If he and Horo were able to live within the same time frame, even going a year or two without doing business wouldn't matter much to him.
Yet, Lawrence's life was far too brief. "What is it?"
"Huh? Ah, nothing. Aye, someone from the guild would be better. Could you ask him to do an introduction for me?" replied Lawrence.
"Of course, something like this is no problem at all. I'll help you out for free."
Mark had placed extra emphasis on the words, "for free," upon which Lawrence was unable to suppress a laugh.
"You need it taken care of quickly?" asked Mark.
"If possible, yes."
"In that case, I'll have the little guy make a trip. There's an old face, a traveling merchant named Guy Bartose who should be at the foreign firm. He's a daring man, always doing business with those people you least want to associate with. I remember he had regular dealings with a pagan cenobite (note: a member of a religious order living in a convent or community) who worked as a chronicler. Every year during the one week before and after the festival, the guy always seems to be on a long break. So if you just go to the firm at about noon, you should find him there, passed out with drunkenness."
Even within the same guild, there were people like Lawrence who were traveling merchants, as well as those like Amati who did business mostly unrelated to his own. As a result, Lawrence often didn't know the names and faces of other members of the guild.
Lawrence repeated the name, "Guy Bartose" once so as to imprint it within his mind. "I got it, thanks a lot," he said to Mark.
"Haha, how could I accept thanks from you for something so trivial? Let's drop that subject. You'll be staying in town till the festival's over right? Why don't you drop by my place and have a drink before you leave."
"Aye, I'll find time to go and hear you boast about yourself at your place. Think of it as repayment for my gratitude."
Mark laughed silently, handed the last bag of nails to his apprentice and said with a sigh: "But, even after becoming a town merchant, there've been countless worries and hardships. I've often thought of going back to being a traveling merchant."
Lawrence, who as of now was still a traveling merchant and worked tirelessly each day making money to make his dream of owning his own shop come true, could only respond with a vague agreement. Mark himself seemed to notice Lawrence's predicament, and said with an embarrassed smile: "Forget what I just said."
"Let's just wish each other the best. Merchants will always have endless worries and hardships to deal with, isn't that right?"
"Indeed, let's wish each other the best."
Lawrence shook hands with Mark and, seeing the arrival of another customer, left the vending stand.
His cart proceeded slowly forth. Before entering into the crowd of people, Lawrence looked back at Mark's stand.
Watching Mark, who had long since forgotten Lawrence's existence and was already doing business with a new customer, Lawrence couldn't help but feel a bit envious.
Yet even after becoming a town merchant, Mark seemed to want to go back to being a traveling merchant. A long time ago, when a certain king was planning to war on a rich and fertile neighboring country in order to improve the impoverished condition of his own country, a court poet had spoken to him thus: "One always sees the worst side of one's own territory, while seeing the best side of the neighboring country's territory."
Lawrence recalled this saying, and spent some time in introspection.
He had always been so focused on finding Horo's hometown, or the fact that the Rubinhaigen fiasco had placed him farther away from his dream. But thinking about it carefully yielded the realization that he already possessed a very precious traveling companion, Horo.
If he had not met Horo, he would probably still be going back and forth along his unchanging business route, singly enduring the torment of loneliness.
Besides, before encountering Horo, he'd sometimes even wondered half-seriously whether his horse would one day transform into a human and talk to him. Taking that into account, Lawrence felt that perhaps he had already had a dream come true.
It was very likely that he would someday return to doing business alone. When that time came, he would surely look back on all that he had today with a feeling of nostalgia.
Having thought to this point, Lawrence gripped the reins once again.
After using morning time to greet everyone at the foreign firm, he would buy a super tasty lunch to bring back to Horo, Lawrence thought to himself.
In the absence of a church, each day at noon in Kumerson, the tallest roof that marked the aristocratic residence would generously toll the bell suspended within its bell tower. Naturally, the bell was engraved with extravagant patterns, and the bell tower, which easily attracted attention from all over town, was maintained by the best of craftsmen.
It was said that the vanity of the aristocrats had led them to build this bell tower, whose construction amounted to over three hundred Rumione. It was precisely because they did this that they were fit to be called "aristocrats" and so, the people harbored no jealousy toward them.
Perhaps it was exactly because those wealthy merchants who kept huge amounts of gold coins stored in their treasuries did not show such carefree extravagance that they incurred so much jealousy from the people. Even those knights who were well-known for their savageness could become objects of idolization if they knew to be extravagant in their spendings.
Such thoughts occupied Lawrence's mind as he opened the door to his inn room. The pungent smell of liquor that instantly struck him brought a frown to his face.
"So it smelled this bad."
Lawrence regretted silently over not having taken more time to rinse his mouth before leaving, but then reminded himself that the terrible odor was probably being caused by the wolf that was asleep even now.
Even as Lawrence stepped into the room, Horo showed no intention of getting out of bed. But hearing her usual carefree snore, Lawrence figured that her hangover had probably gotten much better.
The smell of liquor inside the room was too dense to bear, so Lawrence opened up the window first before approaching the bed. He noticed that the water jar next to the bed was already empty, and the pail -- thank goodness it was still clean. The face exposed outside the covers had regained its color. It had been the right decision to buy wheat bread, which he rarely ever bought, instead of the sweet honeyed crackers (note: if you ask me, the latter just sounds so much tastier), Lawrence thought to himself.
If Horo woke up, the first thing she would say would undoubtedly be that she was hungry.
Lawrence brought the sack containing the wheat bread close to Horo's nose, and the small nose quivered slightly in response. Contrary to bread made with black wheat or oats, which was hard and bitter, the scent given off by the sweet and soft wheat bread smelled absolutely delicious.
Horo continued to sniff at the smell, her appearance causing one to suspect whether she was really still asleep. Soon after, Horo made a sound, "Hooah" before burying her face under the covers.
Lawrence shifted his gaze toward Horo's feet, and saw that the tail exposed outside the covers was trembling.
Horo was probably giving a great big yawn.
Lawrence waited a few moments, and surely enough, a teary-eyed Horo poked her head out from under the covers.
"Mmm..I think I just smelled something really good.." she said. "Feeling better?"
Horo rubbed her eyes, yawned again, and spoke as if to herself: "....Hungry."
Lawrence couldn't suppress his laughter.
Nevertheless, Horo sat up with an uninterested look, and yawned once again. Then, Horo puffed a few times with her nose, and looked immodestly at the sack in Lawrence's hand.
"I knew you'd say that, so I went all out and bought some wheat bread."
The moment Lawrence handed out the entire sack, the noble wolf became a kitten playing with a sachet. "Will you not eat any?"
The way Horo looked as she held onto the sack and fed greedily on the snow-white wheat bread didn't look at all like someone generous enough to share the contents of the sack with someone else.
Besides, in spite of saying what she did, the expression in her eyes was like that of a hound guarding its prey from being stolen.
Horo asking this before finishing all the bread was probably already showing as much consideration as she could squeeze out.
"Mm, no, I already tried some just now," replied Lawrence.
Although most would probably wonder whether he was lying, Horo, who could see through lies, seemed to discern immediately that he was telling the truth.
Horo's expression relaxed visibly, and went back to biting fiercely at the bread. "Don't choke."
Lawrence remembered the time not long after he had encountered Horo when they had taken shelter at a church, when Horo had choked on a potato. Horo stared at Lawrence with a resentful expression, upon which Lawrence simply smiled lightly before moving aside from the desk and pulling out the chair to sit down.
On the desk lay several wax-sealed envelopes. After Lawrence had greeted the people at the foreign firm, he had received several letters sent to him from various towns.
Although traveling merchants traveled throughout each year, because they would arrive at the same towns during the same seasons, they had surprisingly many opportunities to receive mail.
Some letters offered to pay high prices if a traveling merchant would help buy a particular item to be used the following year when passing a particular town; some letters told about the high price of a particular item, and inquired about the price of the same product in another region. The contents of the letters were greatly diverse.
"Come to think of it," Lawrence uttered silently and sank into reflection. Since he normally only came to Kumerson during the summer, he wondered how unusual it was to have already received letters here when the town was just preparing to enter the winter season. If there had been some slight accident, these letters would have ended up lying in the cabinet at the foreign firm for at least half a year. The letters even indicated that they should be mailed south immediately should Lawrence fail to pick them up within two weeks of their arrival. Yet, to mail a letter obviously required a sum of money.
Lawrence understood clearly that these were letters of the utmost urgency. The senders of the letters were all town merchants living farther north than Proania.
Lawrence scraped away the sealing wax discreetly with his small knife. At this moment, he suddenly detected someone's gaze on him, and looked up to find Horo peeking at him with a look of interest.
"They're letters," he explained. "Mm,"
Horo replied briefly and, holding bread in one hand, took a seat on top of the desk.
Because these were not letters whose contents could not be shown to others, Lawrence went ahead and opened the envelope, taking out the letter within.
Dear Mr. Lawrence...
The way the letter didn't begin with "Under the name of God" was typical of a Northerner's style. Lawrence skipped over the formalities and let his gaze fall on the main subject of the letter.
Lawrence read the letter, his gaze following the messy handwriting that had been the result of writing in a hurry, and instantly grasped the letter's contents.
The letter indeed contained information of great importance to a merchant.
Yet, as Lawrence finished reading the second letter and confirmed that its contents were identical to those of the first, he first let out a sigh, then smiled lightly.
"What do they say?" asked Horo.
"Guess." Perhaps because of being asked something else in response to her own question, Horo looked a bit angry, and let her gaze circle once in the air before responding: "At least they do not look like love letters."
Receiving love letters in such messy handwriting would probably cause a love of a hundred years to go cold, Lawrence thought.
Lawrence handed Horo the letters, and smiled again as he spoke: "Needed information always arrives when you no longer need it." "Mm."
"They sent these letters out of kindness, so I at least need to repay my gratitude. But, do you think I should be crying or laughing at seeing this?"
Either she was already full, or she had finished all the bread, Horo licked her fingers as she held the letters in her other hand and swept through the words with her eyes.
Then, she handed the letters back to Lawrence with a look of displeasure. "I cannot read words," she said.
"Huh? Really?"
Lawrence was a bit surprised as he took back the letters. Horo narrowed her eyes and said: "If you are saying that intentionally, all I can say is that your skill is getting better and better." "No. Sorry, I really didn't know."
In order to determine the truthfulness of his answer, Horo looked hard at Lawrence. She then turned away her face and said with a sigh: "Basically, the types of words that must be remembered are far too many. Also, there are too many inexplicable combinations. Though humans will often say that all it takes is to follow the rules of speech when writing, that is obviously a lie."
From the looks of it, it seemed as if Horo had once intended to remember the words. "You mean consonant markers and such?" asked Lawrence.
"I do not know what to call them. In short, a very complex system of rules. If humans like you were superior to us wolves in some respect, it would be in your ability to use such inexplicable words."
"Other wolves don't know how to write either?" Lawrence almost blurted out, but swallowed the words he had almost uttered and expressed agreement.
"Even so, no one should be able to remember the words easily. It took me a lot of effort as well, and every time I got something wrong, my master would hit me on the head. I even used to worry that my head would become deformed."
Horo looked at Lawrence with a suspicious glance. Her expression seemed to say that if Lawrence was simply making a polite lie, she would immediately lose her temper.
"You should be able to tell that I'm not lying."
Hearing Lawrence say this, Horo at last removed her suspicious gaze.
"So, what is written in them?" she asked once again.
"Oh. It's written that due to this year's Northern military expedition being canceled, I should exercise caution when buying battle equipment,"
Lawrence said as he tossed aside the letters. Horo appeared stunned at first, and then gave a strained smile. "If you had received this letter earlier, then certainly you would not have ended up as you did," she said. "Exactly.but, in the end, these two people had been willing to spend money relaying this information to me. Just knowing that is a gain in itself. From now on these two will be worth my trust."
"Yea. However, seeing the letter and not seeing the letter certainly make the difference between heaven and hell."
"Although that's not funny at all, what you've said is exactly right. The information contained within one letter really can mark a turning point in destiny. If a merchant lacked information, it would be like going onto a battlefield blindfolded."
"If it is covering up your own embarrassment, you sure are used to it."
The moment Lawrence heard this, his hands froze in the motion of putting a letter back in its envelope. "Shit," he thought silently.
"Hooah. Even teasing you does not wave away my sleepiness."
Horo yawned as she got off the desk and made her way back to her bed. Lawrence watched Horo with a bitter expression. At that moment, Horo suddenly spun around to face him and said: "Oh yes, you (note: I should've mentioned this earlier, but this is how Horo calls Lawrence. It's the same as in the anime when Horo says, "nushi." I use "you" in my translation for lack of a better word, but that's literally what it means). We can go see the festival now, can we not?"
Horo reached out her hand and picked up the robe she had taken off and placed on the bed, her spirited eyes seemingly about to shoot out rays of light. Seeing Horo like this, Lawrence was tempted to take her out, but unfortunately, he still has some unfinished business.
"Sorry, not ye-"
The reason Lawrence was unable to finish his sentence was because in that instant, he saw that Horo's expression had changed, looking like she was about to cry and clutching her robe tightly.
"Please, even if you're just joking, could you not be like that?" said Lawrence. "You are weak against this kind of thing after all. I must remember that well."
Even having seen through Horo's acting, Lawrence could find no words to refute what she had said.
Lawrence thought warily that Horo had discovered another one of his weaknesses as he turned again to face the desk.
"Mm...but you, can I not go into the streets by myself?" asked Horo. "Even if I said no, you'd still go right?"
"Mm, that is true. But..."
Lawrence placed the letters back in their envelopes, and turned back to Horo. He saw that Horo was holding her robe with an embarrassed look.
"Right after what was just said, she's already using this move?" Lawrence thought a bit incredulously, but he immediately understood.
Going to see the festival without a penny would mean only being able to stare at the rows of vending stands which, to Horo, would be as torturous as a living death.
The point was, Horo wanted some "battle funds," except that she hadn't sunken so low as to be able to open her mouth easily about it.
"I happen to not have any small change...you better not overspend."
Lawrence stood up, took out an Iredo silver coin from the leather pouch tied to his waist, and walked over to hand it to Horo.
On the Iredo silver coin was engraved a portrait of the seventh aristocratic ruler of Kumerson.
"This silver coin isn't worth as much as a Trenni silver coin, so you won't receive a sour look if you use it to buy a piece of bread from a vendor. The owner will be willing to give you change," Lawrence explained.
"Mm..."
Even having received the silver coin, Horo was a bit clumsy in her reply. The next thought that surfaced in Lawrence's mind was whether Horo could possibly still want more funds.
However, if Horo detected his wariness, she would no doubt shrewdly attack him for it. Thus, Lawrence did his best to feign coolness, and asked: "What is it?" "Mm? Mm...."
One had to be very careful when Horo was behaving so pitiably. Lawrence allowed his mind to enter a business state.
"I am thinking, even if I were to go alone, it would not be any fun," said Horo. In that instant, Lawrence's mind went idle.
"What business do you still need to take care of? If you can take me with you, I will give you back your silver coin," Horo continued.
"Huh? Ah, no, about that, I've arranged to meet with someone..."
"I am just going out for a stroll anyway. If it would be inconvenient for me to stand beside you, I could stand farther away. Therefore, will you take me with you?"
Neither being particularly coquettish nor behaving pitiably, Horo seemed to be simply making a normal request to take her out.
If she had tilted her head slightly and asked, "Take me with you, will you not?" one might have suspected her of putting up an act.
Yet, even though Horo's manner of request seemed very normal this time, it gave a sense of being particularly feeble.
If this was really a part of her act, it would certainly be worth falling for.
Besides, if she really wasn't acting, suspecting Horo like this would surely hurt her feelings.
"I'm really sorry. Just for today, can you find some way to pass time on your own? I will be meeting with someone later, and through that person's introduction, I may need to go directly somewhere else. If you came with me, you'd have to wait for me outside almost the entire time," said Lawrence.
"Mm..."
"I'll take care of all trivial matters today, and starting tomorrow we'll be able have a good time at the fair. So, just for today, could you be patient for a bit?"
Seeing Horo standing still beside the bed with such a fragile appearance, Lawrence inadvertently spoke to her in a tone one would use in persuading a little girl of less than ten years.
Lawrence seemed also to understand Horo's feelings.
It was precisely because he didn't want to attend the festival that was held in junction with the winter town fair alone that he only came to Kumerson during summertime.
The more he shuttled back and forth among crowds so large that he would come into contact with the people around him, the more deeply the loneliness of being by himself felt.
That feeling was as lonesome as being the only person to return to a traveler's inn while a feast was being held at the foreign firm.
Although he wanted very much to bring Horo along with him, the matter he had to attend to soon was one that required her absence.
Because he would be meeting with a town chronicler through the introduction of Guy Bartose. The manager of the foreign firm seemed to be familiar with the chronicler as well, so Lawrence had taken the time to gather some information when he was collecting his mail. As expected, it was said that this chronicler not only possessed historical documents relating to the region of Proania, but also gathered pagan tales from regions north of Proania and compiled them into books.
It would be bad if Horo was brought there and found out about the ancient legend concerning Yoitsu. According to the legend he had once heard, Yoitsu had long been destroyed by a demon bear. As such, it was doubtful that Lawrence would end up finding out that Yoitsu was still a prosperous town.
Although he well understood that he could not keep this from Horo forever, at least he needed to find a more appropriate time to tell Horo about it. This was, after all, too sensitive a topic.
The silence between Lawrence and Horo lasted a good while.
"Yea. How should I say it, it would not be good to always get in the way of your work. Besides, I do not wish to have my hand slapped away again."
Horo's particularly-sorrowful tone was most likely part of her acting.
Even so, the memory of having unintentionally slapped away Horo's hand back in Rubinhaigen still brought a subtle pain to Lawrence's chest. Surely the extremely perceptive sage wolf had mentioned this on purpose, knowing this fact. Because Lawrence had not given in to Horo's willful request, she was using this opportunity to get in a bit of revenge.
"I'll buy something for you when I get back, just be patient for a bit," said Lawrence. "...You are trying to deceive me with gifts again."
Even as Horo's eyes gave a blaming look, her tail was wagging with anticipation. "Then, would you prefer to hear some sweet talk?"
"Hmph. The things you say are rough, sour, and not at all pleasing to the ear. Please do not say anything."
In spite of her venomous words, Horo revealed a smile and no longer looked gloomy, so Lawrence shook his hands in surrender.
"Anyway, I will be strolling all around alone." "Sorry," said Lawrence.
Having heard this, Horo seemed to remember something and said: "Oh yes, when you come back, if you find that there are two people in the room, though it may be a bit troubling for you, could you stay away for a little while?"
Hearing this, for a moment Lawrence couldn't understand what Horo was trying to say, but immediately realized that Horo was pointing out the possibility of picking up a guy on the street.
With Horo's narrow-mindedness, it wouldn't be difficult to imagine her doing something like this. Yet, having heard this, Lawrence could not decide what expression to make.
Should he be angry? Should he laugh? No, ignoring Horo was the best way. Just as Lawrence had arrived at this conclusion, he saw Horo laughing happily from the bottom of her heart as she said: "To be able to see such a cute expression on your face, I should have no problem passing the rest of the day alone."
Seeing Horo laughing this happily, Lawrence could do no more than sigh. This wolf could really make one angry.
"Anyway, as of right now, it is still most comfortable to be by your side. Therefore, just be at ease." Lawrence was still unable to say anything.
This wolf could really, really make one so angry.
Because the time was already past noon, entering the foreign firm, Lawrence discovered that the number of people inside was indeed much greater than it had been in the morning.
Among Kumerson's town merchants and traveling merchants whose businesses centered around Kumerson, many seemed to have temporarily ceased business in order to participate in the festival. During the day, these people drank and made merry in the firm, and the entire space was filled with laughter.
The person who would be introducing the chronicler, Guy Bartose seemed not to be passed out with drunkenness in the firm as Mark had depicted. Lawrence had heard when he came by the firm in the morning that Bartose had gone out of town to do business.
Questioning the owner of the firm, Lawrence learned that he had not yet returned. However, having to meet someone later on, now was not the time to be drinking. So what could be done now to kill time?
Although there were several other merchants in the same situation in the firm, they had all succumbed to the temptation of the bar-like atmosphere within the firm and were completely focused on the card gambling match before them, so trying to casually strike up conversation with them was out of the question.
In the end there was no choice but to converse with the firm owner, who was also drinking but could not allow himself to become drunk. As they continued to chat, the door to the firm swung open and another person walked in.
Because the firm owner's seat was directly across from the entrance, he immediately saw who had just come in. Rather than saying the person who had just walked in was a merchant, perhaps it would have been more appropriate to describe him as a young aristocrat. The person was Amati.
"Mr. Lawrence."
Amati had also immediately noticed Lawrence's presence. He addressed Lawrence right after greeting the merchants who were drinking near the entrance.
"Hello. Thank you for helping us arrange for the inn," said Lawrence.
"Not at all. I should be the one thanking you two for ordering so many fish dishes."
"My companion, who is particularly picky when it comes to eating, was giving praises without end. She said that you are very talented at picking out good fish."
Lawrence figured that, rather than saying he himself enjoyed the fish cuisine, it would be more effective to use Horo's name. The outcome was exactly as he had predicted.
Amati's expression was not like that of a merchant, but shining like a youngster.
"Haha, I am greatly pleased at receiving such praise. If you desire any other fish, please do not hesitate to ask. I will be purchasing fish of the finest quality tomorrow."
"My companion had said that the carp was especially delicious," Lawrence replied.
"Is that so...I understand, then I will go back and pick out some more fish that she can delightfully enjoy." The fact that Amati had not once inquired as to what kind of fish he liked caused Lawrence to smile a strained inward smile. Amati probably hadn't noticed this at all, he thought. "Ah, yes, Mr. Lawrence, do you have any plans later on?" asked Amati.
"I am killing time, waiting for Mr. Bartose's return." "Is that so..."
"What is it?"
A layer of shadow suddenly formed on Amati's face, and his speech became a bit clumsy. Nevertheless, he immediately put on the behavior befitting a merchant who battled within the fish market day after day, and made the decision to speak: "Yes. Actually, I was thinking that perhaps I could lead you two on a tour around town. I believe it must have been due to the guidance of God that I encountered you on my way back from a purchase. Besides, being able to hear more from a traveling merchant would no doubt be a good opportunity for me to expand the boundaries of my knowledge."
Even with Amati's very humble behavior, Lawrence of course knew that his goal was Horo. If Amati had a tail just like Horo did, it would not be difficult to picture him wagging it robustly and restlessly.
At this moment, Lawrence came up with a nice plan.
"You have made such a nice proposal, it is quite a shame. My companion has been fussing since morning about going out to wander around in the streets, so this would have been a great chance. However..."
Amati answered this with a change in expression: "If you do not mind me doing so, I could take just Miss Horo out for a walk. To be honest, I have no more work left to tend to for the day, and really have not much to do."
"Would it not be too much trouble?"
Although Lawrence was unsure whether he had succeeded in making a surprised expression, he figured that Amati probably hadn't noticed the fine changes in his expression anyway. Amati's eyes could probably only see the image of Horo.
"Not at all. If I were to go about town on my own, I worry that all the money I have made will be spent on drinking. To put it more bluntly, I will be able to have a companion this way. Please allow me to take Miss Horo out for a walk," he replied.
"Is that really alright? Even so, that girl is not the type that would simply stay put at the inn when told to do so. Therefore, I cannot be certain that she is still there."
"Haha. It just so happens that I need to discuss a purchase with that inn. I will show up there and inquire about her while I am at it. If Miss Horo is there, I will invite her."
"Thank you for the trouble."
"No, no. However, do allow me to take you for a tour about town as well next time."
Concerning the speech for this kind of social intercourse, Amati's behavior was certainly that of a merchant. Even though Amati, who was younger than Lawrence by five or six years, possessed an unreliably weak appearance, surely he was a true merchant at heart.
Even with all his attention on Horo, he had not forgotten about proper behavior.
Just as Lawrence was telling himself to be careful not to drop his guard, the door to the firm opened once again.
Because of Amati, who had directed his gaze toward the door at the same time as Lawrence and uttered a "Just in time," Lawrence immediately understood who it was that had just walked in.
"Then, Mr. Lawrence, I shall take my leave now," said Amati. "Ah, yes, I am counting on you."
Lawrence was unsure whether Amati had no other affairs to take care of in coming to the firm, or had forgotten his original intention with his head so completely filled with Horo now. Amati left the firm as soon as he had bid farewell.
Although Lawrence had left Horo a silver coin, she was most likely still in bed and not yet out of doors. Given Amati's infatuated look, Horo probably need only open her mouth for him to buy everything she desired. To Horo, Amati would surely be a perfect fathead.
Though the thought inevitably inspired some sympathy for Amati, the way he looked, he was probably more than happy to open his wallet anyway.
If Horo's happy mood could be bought with another's wallet, nothing could make Lawrence happier. Yet, unfortunately, as long as Lawrence was standing before Horo, his mind could not turn so quickly.
Not only was he always a step behind Horo in terms of reaction, it only took one small trick from Horo for him to be completely and utterly defeated.
Just as Lawrence was thinking how difficult it would be to surpass Horo given the number of years she had lived, the man who had entered the firm after Amati looked once about the room before heading in Lawrence's direction.
Lawrence had heard that Mark's apprentice had run all over Kumerson for his sake, and Bartose was probably approaching him because he had already received the news that Lawrence was looking for him.
After lightly nodding a greeting, Lawrence revealed a business smile. "Pardon me, are you Mr. Craft Lawrence? I am Guy Bartose,"
Bartose said, and reached out his right hand. His right hand was as rough and heavy as that of a soldier who had been through countless battles.
According to Mark's explanation, Bartose seemed to be a traveling merchant who was more devoted to making money in order to drink than doing business for the sake of earning money. But after actually seeing him, Lawrence felt that Bartose gave off a completely opposite feeling.
Walking along the street, Bartose's stocky body had the steady appearance of a slightly shorter-than-normal coffin (note: couldn't help laughing at this one. I've heard people described in various ways, but this is the first time I've heard someone being described as "coffin-like" xD). The messy growth upon his face was akin to sea urchin needles, and the skin on his face like leather totally insusceptible to the blowing of wind and scraping of sand. During the handshake, Bartose's right palm felt nothing like that of a traveling merchant who held onto horse reins all day and led a leisurely life, but that which instantly revealed that he carried heavy objects all year long.
Despite possessing such an appearance, Bartose was neither stubborn nor eccentric, and spoke in a way that reminded one of the mildness of a clergyman.
"I've heard that lately there have been many like you Mr. Lawrence, who are traveling among countries and doing business. I've always traveled between the same places and sold the same merchandise, which is starting to get a bit tiring."
"The retailers and craftsmen within the town would surely criticize you for saying such," replied Lawrence. "Hahahahaha, that's for sure. After all, even merchants who've sold leather ropes for fifty years are everywhere to be seen. Saying that one is getting tired so easily would surely cause criticism,"
Bartose said laughingly. He was a merchant who bought and sold precious metals, traveling among the mining areas of Hairam. Lawrence had heard that he had been traveling to-and-fro between such precipitous mountains and Kumerson for almost thirty years.
Bearing heavy loads while traveling over the course of several decades upon the steep mountains of Hairam, which received such strong winds and upon which no tree could grow, was not something a normal person could achieve.
The reason Bartose would always hang around in Kumerson during the week before and after the town fair was surely in order to get a period of much-needed rest.
"But Mr. Lawrence, you sure have a peculiar interest." "Huh?"
"I heard you were searching for a chronicler in order to hear some ancient Northern legends. Or could this be for some kind of business?"
"No, it is not like that. I should say it is due to a vigorous curiosity."
"Hahahaha. Even at such a young age, you've cultivated a nice interest. As for me, I've only recently become interested in ancient legends. I originally planned to turn this into some kind of business, but ended up becoming completely captivated by the tales."
Turning ancient legends into a kind of business was something Lawrence could never have thought of, but, having taken an interest in Bartose's subject, Lawrence listened quietly as he continued.
"For several decades, I've been going back and forth between the same places. One day, it suddenly hit me that the world I knew was an extremely narrow one. Yet, centuries ago, there had already been people traveling back and forth along the path I now travel on, and I of course don't know the situation back then."
Lawrence felt that he understood Bartose's meaning.
The more regions one had traveled upon, the greater the sense that the world was unfolding before his very eyes.
If Lawrence's perception of the world could be compared to the width of a pond, Bartose's perception of the world would be its depth.
"I'm getting old, no longer possessing the vigor to travel to faraway places, and time cannot be turned back. Therefore, even if it's just legends, I want to learn more about the world I haven't been able to see, as well as the ancient past that the heavens have maliciously prevented me from going back to. When I was young, I only cared about pursuing the profits before me, and never even thought of such things. If I had had the spare energy to think about these matters, perhaps my life would have turned out differently.and so, seeing you taking interest in such things at such an early age makes me a bit envious. Haha, the way I'm talking really makes me seem like a withered old man."
Although Bartose was laughing a bit self-mockingly, his speech was more or less deeply felt by Lawrence.
It wasn't until Bartose had pointed it out that Lawrence realized, through legends or myths, one could learn about what one definitely could not have experienced in person, which indeed contained an alluring charm.
Lawrence seemed to finally understand the weight of what Horo had said so casually not long after they had first met: "You and I live in entirely different worlds."
At that point in time, the people who had once lived within the same era as she did were already long gone from the world; much of the time Horo had been through had become time unknown.
Moreover, Horo was a wolf, not a human.
Thinking this, a sense was generated that, on a different level of meaning, Horo's existence seemed particularly special.
Through all of Horo's travels up till now, what had she seen? What had she heard?
Lawrence decided that when he returned to the inn later, he would ask her about the experiences she had had in her previous travels.
"However, as far as the Church is concerned, such legends and myths are but superstitions and pagans' tales. As long as a region is under the surveillance of the Church, it's difficult to gather up a complete collection. Because Hairam is a mountainous region, it has many interesting tales. But, those parts are also under the Church's surveillance. On this point, Kumerson is free of such misgivings," Bartose continued.
Precisely due to the fact that Proania was a country in which pagans and Christians coexisted with one another, the Church would usually issue strict regulations in those regions and towns where it held some influence.
On the other hand, those pagan towns that were ready to expel the influence of the Church would always be in a guarded state of battle-readiness. Within Proania, Kumerson, which could peacefully draw a line and isolate itself from these problems, was perhaps a very special existence.
Yet, to say that such a town was free of the problem of antagonism would not be entirely correct.
In order to meet with the chronicler, Lawrence and Bartose had come to a district located at the northern end of Kumerson.
Kumerson was built on the premise of allowing expansion, so its walls were constructed with easily-disassembled wooden frames. Consequently, the streets and buildings could be constructed to be quite spacious.
Yet within Kumerson that featured such a town plan, there existed a stone wall whose height towered above people's heads.
This stone wall was used to mark the residential district of people who were being pursued by the Church and had escaped to this region from the South or from other towns in Proania.
The fact that a stone wall was used to mark this boundary was iron-clad proof that the town residents considered the people living behind this wall a troublesome existence. Although these people were not seen as criminals in Kumerson, in a place like Rubinhaigen, for example, they were considered criminals who could immediately be beheaded. As such, it was only natural that they would be seen as troublesome.
However, Lawrence immediately changed his view.
The existence of the wall was probably not simply to isolate them, it probably needed to be there, Lawrence thought to himself.
"Is that...the smell of sulfur?"
"Haha, do you also sell medicinal rocks (note: Europeans used sulfur for medicinal purposes)?" Bartose responded.
The Hairam region possessed several highly productive mines, which were also the source of a variety of different ores. Bartose, who traveled through this region regularly, was perhaps already used to the smell of sulfur, but Lawrence involuntarily scrunched up his face at the peculiar stink.
As soon as they came through the door in the stone wall, the odor that attacked his sense of smell made Lawrence instantly realize what kind of people lived within this district. They were the Church's greatest enemy -- alchemists.
"No...I just have a bit of knowledge about it," replied Lawrence. "Knowledge is a merchant's weapon. You are a good merchant." "...I am flattered."
As soon as they were through the door, Lawrence realized that the ground surface in this district was significantly lower than in other parts of the town.
The intervals between the buildings also appeared narrow. Although the sight reminded one of the familiar town alleyways, there were some peculiarities.
First of all, as they walked along the small lanes, Lawrence would occasionally catch sight of bird feathers. "After all, when the poisonous wind is blowing, it doesn't always carry a scent, so they keep small birds. If the birds start dying all of a sudden, it's time to be careful," Bartose explained.
Although Lawrence had heard that areas like mining regions took such safety measures, actually being in a place that used this kind of safety measure still made his spine go cold.
Even though "poisonous wind" was a nice way of describing it, Lawrence still thought that the Church's preferred term, "hand of Death" was a closer description -- as soon as one noticed that the wind blowing his way was unusually frigid, he would realize that his body was completely paralyzed, as if frozen -- it was said that this was the sensation that had yielded the description, "hand of Death."
The little cats that similarly could be seen wherever one went in the alleys, could they have been kept for the same purpose as that of the birds? Or were the cats gathered for the purpose of hunting the birds?
Whether it was the former or the latter, both possibilities only made Lawrence uncomfortable. "Mr. Bartose."
It had been a long time since Lawrence last found it painful to walk quietly upon a paved path.
Within the dark alleys would occasionally be heard the cries of cats and the beating of bird wings, as well as the eerie sound of metal, plus the air was filled with the choking stink of sulfur. Lawrence could not stand this kind of atmosphere, and thus tried conversing with Bartose who was walking ahead of him.
"Could you tell me how many alchemists live within this district?" he asked.
"That...counting the apprentices, probably around twenty. Although, accidents occur frequently here after all, so I don't know the exact number."
What Bartose had meant to say was that people died here frequently.
Lawrence regretted asking such a question, and quickly switched to a more merchant-like question: "Does doing business with alchemists yield good profits? Feels like it would be accompanied by many risks." "Mm..."
Bartose avoided a barrel of unknown content and whose sides were stained with an unknown green substance that would make anyone who saw it lose all sleepiness, and replied in a leisurely manner: "If it's an alchemist supported by members of the aristocracy, the profits are very good. Because other than gold, silver, and bronze, they will also purchase large quantities of iron, lead, tin, mercury, sulfur, phosphorus, etc."
The items mentioned by Bartose were unexpectedly ordinary, which came as a surprise to Lawrence. Lawrence had expected to hear more bizarre items, such as five-legged frogs for example.
"Hahaha, are you surprised? Even among those doing business in the North, the majority think that alchemists are sorcerers. In fact, they aren't much different from blacksmiths. Their work has always just consisted of things like heating up metal, or using corrosive acids to melt metal," Bartose explained.
The two made a right turn at a narrow intersection. "Although there are some among them that do study magic,"
Bartose said, turning around his head and raising the corners of his mouth in a tooth-revealing grin.
Lawrence, a bit unsettled by all this, stopped in his tracks. Perceiving this, Bartose, as if apologizing for his mischief, immediately said smilingly: "But, that's just a rumor that I've heard before. Besides, I heard that even the alchemists living in this area have never seen someone knowledgeable in the use of magic. I should also mention that the people living here are all nice people."
It was the first time Lawrence had ever heard anyone use the words "good people" to describe alchemists, who spent their energy day and night in the performing of anti-God acts.
Whenever the subject of alchemists was brought up, people would always be filled with a combined sense of fear and curiosity, a difficult-to-describe feeling of immorality.
"How do you say it, they are my 'providing parents' after all, so I couldn't possibly say they were bad people right?"
Hearing such a merchant-like utterance from Bartose, Lawrence loosened up a bit and smiled. Within a second's time, Bartose had stopped before a residence.
The surface of the path, which received no sunlight and was filled with bumps and holes, contained several dark puddles of water.
The wall facing the narrow alley contained a wooden window that was slightly ajar. Perhaps it was the mind playing tricks, but this two-tiered building seemed to be inclined at an angle.
The building's appearance was no different from that which could be found in a corner of any town slum. However, there was one key difference.
It was the fact this place was filled with a dead silence, completely devoid of the sound of children at play. "You don't have to be so tense. The person you'll be meeting is very easy to get along with."
Even though Bartose had reassured him thus several times already, Lawrence, hearing this, could still only manage a vague smile.
Asking Lawrence not to be tense was simply too much to ask.
Because within this district lived people branded as serious criminals by the most not-to-be-opposed organization in the world.
"Is anyone in?"
Even so, Bartose still knocked fearlessly on the front door and called out in a casual tone. Yet, the dried-up door appeared as if it had not been opened for years.
From some unknown location came the weak cry of a cat.
A cenobite regarded as a pagan and being pursued by a monastery.
The image of an old man dressed in a tattered robe and like a wizened frog in appearance formed and then disappeared in Lawrence's mind.
That was a world that a normal traveling merchant would not step into. At that moment, the door began to open gradually.
"Hmm? If it isn't Mr. Bartose."
The moment he heard this utterance, Lawrence felt a disappointment of his expectations, and even his knees seemed to lose their strength.
"Long time no see. You seem to be in good spirits. That's wonderful."
"You stole the words out of my mouth. You're safe and sound even though you've been going back and forth among the mountains of Hairam. It's apparent that the Almighty greatly favors you."
When the thin wooden door had opened, a tall, blue-eyed woman appeared at the doorway. She was dressed in a long robe, and appeared to be a few years older than Lawrence. The loosely-cut robe looked particularly seductive on a woman.
The woman spoke in a lively tone, and there was no disputing the fact that she was an absolute beauty. Yet, Lawrence suddenly recalled the legend of alchemists searching for magic that would produce immortality.
Witch.
As the word surfaced in Lawrence's mind, the woman directed her gaze toward him.
"Ooh, it's a handsome boy. But it seems, from the look on his face, that he has taken me for a witch." "In that case, I may as well introduce you as such."
"Don't be like that. This place is gloomy enough as it is. Besides, how could a witch possibly be as beautiful as myself?"
"I heard that many ladies have been rumored to be witches because of their good looks."
"You're still the same as usual, Mr. Bartose. Surely you possess a good number of gold houses in the region of Hairam?"
Even though Lawrence had no idea as to what was going on, he did not persist in trying to grasp the situation, but focused his mind on calming himself down.
Lawrence took one-and-a-half deep breaths.
He then set his spine straight and regained his merchant Lawrence expression.
"Big sis, the person who has something to see you about today isn't me, but Mr. Lawrence here." Bartose had probably noticed that Lawrence had already regained his composure. Under his timely introduction, Lawrence took a step forward, revealed his business smile in greeting and said: "Please pardon my loss of composure. I am traveling merchant Craft Lawrence. I have come today to pay Mr. Dean Rubens a visit. Is he at home?"
Lawrence spoke in a most formal manner, which he rarely used.
Yet, when the woman who was supporting the wooden door with one hand heard this, she first revealed an astounded expression before immediately speaking with a cheerful demeanor: "What, Bartose didn't tell you?" "Ah!"
Bartose slapped his chin lightly, looking as if he was blaming himself for not having noticed, and spoke to Lawrence with a deeply apologetic expression: "Mr. Lawrence, this is Miss Dean Rubens (note: pronounced "Dee-an" or "Dee-ahn")." "I am Dean Rubens. A very masculine name, isn't it? Please call me Deanna," the woman said smilingly with a change from her previous manner to an elegant one. The way she carried herself gave the impression that she had once resided in a convent of some grandeur.
"Well, let's not hang about in the doorway, and talk inside. I won't eat you,"
Deanna said mischievously as she opened the front door all the way and gestured inside.
The inside of Deanna's home was not much different from the building's exterior appearance. It was quite old and shabby. Perhaps one could even describe it as similar to a ship captain's den following an encounter with a storm.
In the corners of the room were piled wooden chests that reminded one of pirate treasure chests. The tops of the chests were reinforced with strips of metal, and the chest covers were flipped open in a casual manner. There were also a number of sturdy, rather expensive-looking chairs that had become mere mats for clothing and books.
In addition, scattered throughout the room were a great many feather pens of color as white as snow, whose origin was hard to imagine. It was as if an enormous bird had groomed its feathers to its heart's content within the room.
Within this room, which could properly be described as chaotically disorganized, the only places that showed some signs of organization were the bookshelf and the area surrounding the large desk at which Deanna worked.
"So, what did you come to see me about?"
Deanna said as she pulled out a chair from under the desk and sat down. The sunlight was shining, almost miraculously, upon the desk. Deanna neither invited the two men to sit down, nor brought them cups of hot tea.
Putting aside the thought of hot tea, just as Lawrence was wondering what to do without even being able to find a chair, Bartose, as if he had long become used to this, cleared out a chair for Lawrence by casually removing the items piled upon it.
Even a proud and arrogant noble would know to invite guests to sit down, Lawrence thought.
Yet, he did not find Deanna's abnormal way of doing things in the least bit unpleasant. In fact, it could even be considered a charming quality in her.
"Please allow me to first express my apologies over making such a presumptuous visit," said Lawrence. Even upon hearing such reasonable formalities, Deanna simply smiled and nodded her head lightly. Lawrence cleared his throat lightly and continued: "It is like this, I heard that Miss Rubens-" "Deanna,"
Deanna corrected on the spot, with a serious look in her eyes.
After Lawrence managed with some difficulty to hide the wavering in his heart and uttered a "Sorry," a warm smile surfaced on Deanna's face once again.
"Erm -- it is like this, I heard that you, Miss Deanna, are well-versed in legends of the North. Therefore, I was wondering, if it is not too much trouble, whether I may ask you to enlighten me on certain matters." "Of the North?"
"Yes."
Deanna seemed to be contemplating this, and directed her gaze at Bartose to say: "I thought he'd come here to talk business."
"You're joking. If it was to do business, surely you'd kick him out?"
Although Deanna responded to Bartose's utterance with a laugh, Lawrence felt that she would really do it. "But, I'm not sure I'd know the story you're looking for," Deanna said to Lawrence.
"That means I may have heard a tale that was simply made-up."
"My my, if that's the case, we can treat it as a new story, and I'll listen to you instead."
Seeing Deanna's gently-smiling face, Lawrence involuntarily shifted his gaze away and coughed lightly. Good thing Horo wasn't around, Lawrence thought to himself.
"Then, I would like to ask you about the ancient legends concerning the town of Yoitsu," Lawrence continued.
"Oh? you mean the town that was destroyed by the Moon-Hunting Bear?" Deanna seemed to have instantly opened her drawer of memories.
The topic of Yoitsu's destruction being brought up so suddenly, not bringing Horo along was indeed the right choice, Lawrence thought to himself. It was probably true that Yoitsu was really destroyed. Just thinking about how to tell Horo about this gave Lawrence a headache.
Just as Lawrence was pondering these things, Deanna stood up slowly, headed toward the room's unusually well-kept bookshelf and, removing a book from among the large, carefully-organized volumes said: "I remember it was right around here.found it, found it. The Moon-Hunting Bear, its pronunciation should be 'Irawa Werr Muheidehunde.' The town of Yoitsu that was destroyed by the Moon-Hunting Bear. If it's about this Moon-Hunting Bear, there are quite a few legends. Although, they're all very old." Deanna spoke continuously as she scanned the pages. The calluses on her index finger that had resulted from extensive writing appeared red and swollen, causing one to feel sympathy for her.
Perhaps all the books that lined the shelf were composed by her.
Just how many pagan tales and superstitions were contained among them?
Having thought about this point, Lawrence suddenly realized something. When Bartose had mentioned that he had intended to make business out of ancient legends and myths, he had probably meant selling Deanna's books to the Church.
If it possessed the books found here, the Church would instantly be able to find the areas in which missionary work had failed as well as discern the kinds of mistakes made there. Thus, members affiliated with the Church would no doubt greatly desire possession of these books.
"What I wish to know about is not the bear, but the tales about the town of Yoitsu," said Lawrence. "Town?"
"Yes. For a certain reason, I am searching for Yoitsu's location. Would it be possible to locate it using information provided in its legends and myths?"
Most people would probably find it puzzling to be asked about the location of an ancient legend rather than the place of production of a certain product.
Deanna was of course no exception. Her expression at first was that of surprise. She then placed the book on the desk and sank into contemplation.
"Location huh...location, location..." "Is it possible?"
Lawrence inquired once more. Hearing this, Deanna placed a hand on her forehead as if struck with a wave of headache, and signaled with her other hand for Lawrence to wait.
Though when she maintained silence, no one would doubt it even if Deanna was said to be the head of a grand convent, watching her appearance now, Lawrence couldn't help but think that she possessed a humorous nature.
After quite some time of groaning with her eyes tightly closed, Deanna finally raised her head, with a cheerful smile on her face like that of a maiden who had succeeded in threading a needle for the first time.
"I remember now. Farther north of Proania is a river called the Romu, and at the source of this river is a town called Renose. In that area, there is such an ancient legend."
Hearing Deanna suddenly speak to him in a tone like that which she used to speak with Bartose, Lawrence couldn't help feeling a bit stunned.
It seemed like Deanna would completely lose herself as soon as one mentioned the subject of ancient legends, Lawrence thought to himself.
The Deanna who possessed such a nature cleared her throat, closed her eyes, and began reciting the archaic words: "In times distant, a giant wolf appeared at the village. The wolf referred to itself as Horuo of Yoitsu, and its size was such that required gazing up to take in completely. Aghast, the villagers saw this as divine retribution. Horuo spake, saying it had come from the deep and serene forest to the east, wishing to head south. Horuo was addicted to drink, and would at times take maiden form to dance amongst the women of the village. Its appearance was beautiful, young, but possessing an inhuman tail. Following a long period of revelry, it ensured the village harvest, then continued south. The village has seen many years of great harvest ever since. The people refer to the wolf as Horuo of the wheaten tail."
Lawrence was amazed, not only by the fluidity with which Deanna had recited the ancient text, but also by the sudden appearance of Horo's name.
Even if the pronunciation was somewhat different, it was indeed Horo that was being referred to. The description of guaranteeing good harvests proved that it was Horo's doing, and the transformation into a girl with a tail accorded with Horo's appearance.
Yet, his surprised emotion was nothing compared to the content of Deanna's recitation.
The town of Renose, situated at the source of the Romu River, was a town that still exited today. As long as it was known that Horo had come from a forest east of Renose, a line could be drawn going southwest from Nyohhira, and one going east from Renose, and the point at which the two lines intersected would be the town of Yoitsu.
"Is this legend helpful at all?" Deanna inquired.
"Yes, because the forest located east of Renose forms a limited search area, this becomes a sufficient piece of evidence."
"That's wonderful."
"I will most certainly repay my gratitude in the near fut-" Deanna stopped Lawrence with a gesture of her hand.
"You should understand well after seeing me, even with the Church after my life, I still ardently love the ancient legends of pagan regions. Moreover, I only enjoy hearing ancient legends in their most original form, rather than tales whose contents have been altered over consideration of the Church's existence. From the looks of it, you are a traveling merchant, Mr. Lawrence, so surely you've heard some interesting tales? As long as you can share a story with me, that would be repayment enough."
Those within the Church who were responsible for writing history did so to preserve the Church's prestige, and those who were employed by aristocrats did so to praise their employers. In other words, they composed history 'for' the aristocrats. It wouldn't seem inappropriate to say that this was only reasonable.
The Church city of Rubinhaigen was named after St. Rubinhaigen, and the legends concerning this saint that were circulated within the town also showed much discrepancy with Horo's descriptions. Most likely, these legends were intentional alterations of history made to preserve the Church's prestige and reinforce its authority.
Surely Deanna, who lived within this slum-like section of the religiously and economically tolerant town of Kumerson, could not forgive such acts because of her profound love for these ancient legends. Having heard that Deanna was regarded as an infidel and under pursuit by a certain convent (note: I use "convent" now instead of "monastery" to reflect the fact that the chronicler's gender has now been identified, but the reality is that Chinese does not have separate terms for the male and female institutions, so either is possible, and I have no means of knowing which one was originally intended), Lawrence had expected her to be someone harboring extremely dangerous ideas, only to find out that she was simply a fanatic who would willingly give her life for her passion.
After uttering an "I understand," Lawrence continued to tell a rare tale.
It was a tale depicting a certain region that was a great producer of wheat. A tale about a wolf that controlled the wheat harvest.
After that, because they had more or less had a bit to drink, the three, Lawrence, Deanna, and Bartose had an ardent discussion about a wide range of legends and myths circulating within various regions.
As the sun began its descent in the west, Lawrence at last returned to his senses. He politely declined Deanna's invitation to stay longer, and bid farewell along with Bartose.
Walking through the narrow alleys, Lawrence and Bartose couldn't suppress their laughter each time they recalled the topics brought up during their warm discussion at Deanna's home earlier.
At Lawrence's age, hearing tales about dragons or cities of gold would always generate feelings of skepticism and disbelief. It had been a long time since he had had so much fun in the discussion of such tales.
Even after Lawrence had become an apprentice under a traveling merchant, he had continued to dream for quite some time about becoming a knight-errant who traveled across various countries with long sword held high. The tales he had heard about fire-breathing dragons, giant birds whose spread-out wings could blot out the sky, and sorcerers who could move tall mountains effortlessly also moved Lawrence deep down inside.
Yet, since some time unbeknownst even to himself, Lawrence had come to understand that these tales were all made-up.
The reason he was able to find such tales entertaining this particular day was most likely due to having met Horo, Lawrence thought.
Indeed, there still existed a large number of legends and myths that were not made-up tales at all, and traveling merchants, who traveled through the vast regions of the world, like knights-errant, also possessed opportunities for great adventure.
Just realizing this fact was enough to cause the happy, long-forgotten feeling to spread through Lawrence's heart.
However, as Lawrence recalled the incident that had occurred while smuggling gold back into Rubinhaigen, such ecstatic feelings were transformed into a strained smile as well.
Although Lawrence had not seen its true face, he had no doubts that within those dark and eerie woods near Rubinhaigen that had been the source of continuous rumors dwelled a wolf much like Horo. Even so, back then Lawrence had not played the role of the protagonist of a heroic drama that everyone loved watching, but that of a supporting character helplessly conveyed by the tides of the story.
A merchant was more suited to a merchant-like life after all.
Just as Lawrence was going over these things in his mind, they had arrived at the street leading to the inn, so Lawrence bid Bartose farewell at the junction.
Lawrence thanked Bartose for introducing him to Deanna, at which he received such a response: "Going to big sis's place alone would arouse criticism from all around, so your coming along happened to give me a good excuse."
Indeed, Deanna was so easygoing, beautiful, plus there was the fact that she lived within the gathering place of the alchemists. Going to visit her alone would incur God knew how many curious glances from all around.
After all, such topics were the favorite for discussion among people at the foreign firm. "Please do invite me to go with you again."
Bartose's utterance did not feel like a formality, but something that had come from the depths of his heart. Of course, Lawrence had also been through a most joyful time, and thus nodded sincerely in response.
The sun was just beginning to vanish behind the roofs of the houses. Upon the town's broad street could be seen craftsmen finishing up the day's work, merchants wrapping up the day's business, as well as farmers getting ready to go home after having sold all the crops and livestock brought from their village shuttling back and forth among the others.
Having arrived at a section of town close to the noisy areas after following the street southward, the sight of drunkards and children was added to the tide of people.
Women, who normally appeared in much fewer numbers with the arrival of dusk, were also everywhere to be seen. The street seemed already filled with the atmosphere of the eve of a festival. At several points along the street were circles of people, and at the center of each circle was a fortune teller who had gathered the people and was doing business openly.
Lawrence cut through the walls of people and did not enter the inn situated along the street, but continued along toward the Kumerson marketplace.
Because what Deanna had told Lawrence had allowed him to grasp the location of Yoitsu to a certain degree, he had decided not to set Nyohhira as his destination, but Renose instead.
Besides being closer in distance, another reason Lawrence had chosen Renose was the fact that the path leading there was better formulated. Moreover, he also anticipated the possibility of finding more detailed legends concerning Horo upon reaching Renose.
Because of the change in destination, in order to gather the information necessary for travel, Lawrence came to Mark's vending stand once again.
"Yo, handsome boy."
Yet, as Lawrence arrived at the stand, he found Mark holding a mug in one hand with a carefree and happy appearance. As for the boy who went all over to run errands and contact people, he was sound asleep within the stand with his face flushed and his head thrown back.
The one who replaced these two drunken males was Mark's wife -- Adele, who was preparing to close up shop among the tall piles of merchandise with a dew-repellant cloth covering her head.
As soon as Adele had noticed Lawrence's arrival, she nodded a greeting to him and pointed a finger at Mark with a strained smile.
"What is it? Aie (note: this is a sigh, pronounced like "I"), have a drink first," said Mark.
"Aye, the information I asked you to gather this morning...Whoah! You're pouring too much."
The liquor within the brown, clay wine jar made a "gururu" sound as Mark poured it into the wooden mug. Though Lawrence had called out for him to stop, Mark seemed to take no notice.
The expression on Mark's face seemed to say that he would not answer unless Lawrence reached out and picked up the mug almost overfilling with liquor.
"Seriously."
After Lawrence had picked up the mug with an expression of annoyance at Mark and taken a sip, he found the liquor within the mug to be wine of pretty decent quality. This gave him a sudden urge to eat some salty dried meat to go with the wine.
"So, what were you about to say just now? Could it be that you want to change the destination?" asked Mark.
"Aye, that's right. Isn't there a town by the name of Renose at the source of the Romu River? I remember that place was famous for its firewood and furs? I want to head there."
"Geez, you sure have chosen a huge change in location. And I wasted all that effort gathering information about going to Nyohhira."
Even when drunk, a part of his mind had to remain sober, or else he would not be fit to be called a merchant. "Sorry, the situation has changed slightly."
"Oh?"
Mark responded with a smile, and gulped down the wine as if drinking water.
Then, Mark looked toward Lawrence with an extremely jolly look in his eyes and said: "So it's really true that you and your companion have become estranged?"
After a pause of several seconds, Lawrence asked in return: "What'd you say?"
"Hahahahaha. I've been very thorough in my investigations, handsome boy. Everyone knows you're staying at a high-class inn with a beautiful nun. Seriously, your behavior is exactly what they call an act of defiance against God."
Even though Kumerson was a town of quite a large scale, it was, after all, not up to Rubinhaigen's level. If one only inquired from a friend, he could probably obtain information concerning any of the town merchants in the area. That was the depth of a town merchant's lateral connections. Most likely someone had spotted Lawrence together with Horo and the rumor had spread from there by word of mouth.
If even Mark, who managed a vending stand within the marketplace, knew of Horo's existence, the people at the foreign firm were bound to know as well. Having thought of how fortunate it was that he had not returned to the firm with Bartose, Lawrence loosened up a bit.
Yet, Lawrence did not understand why Mark had said that they had become estranged.
"The relationship between me and my companion is not something that would make for a merry feast topic. But, what do you mean by becoming estranged?" Lawrence inquired.
"Hehehe, looks like the handsome boy is pretty good at playing dumb as well. But even so, having someone mention becoming estranged, the wavering in your heart's still written all over your face."
"After all, my companion is indeed a beauty. If we'd become estranged, wouldn't it come as a great loss to me?"
Thanks to his usual interaction with Horo, Lawrence was able to respond calmly, which surprised even himself.
Although, Lawrence felt that, if possible, he would much prefer an increase in his skill at talking business over the ability to react in this kind of situation.
"Berghh (note: that's supposed to represent a belch. Sorry, I'm not good with onomatopoeic words), it's nothing, just some gossip I heard just now. There's a young chap from our guild walking around in the streets with that companion of yours, and it seems like the two are getting along quite well," said Mark.
"Oh. You mean Am...Mr...Amati."
Although Amati was younger than him, Lawrence felt that simply referring to him by name would seem impolite, hence adding the word "Mr." However, as soon as the word was out of his mouth, he felt that it seemed to somewhat lower his position.
"What, you've already given up?" exclaimed Mark.
"I'm afraid the situation isn't what you think. I haven't had any time all day to spend with my companion, plus Mr. Amati had some free time and wished to take us for a walk around town. These two things just coincidentally came together."
"Oh..."
"You have any complaints?"
Lawrence had expected Mark to show a look of disappointment, but Mark had instead put on a worried expression, which struck Lawrence with a wave of confusion.
"Because I used to be a traveling merchant just like you, I'll give you this warning: that fellow Amati may look weak, but he's actually really difficult to deal with," said Mark.
"...What do you mean by that?"
"What I mean to say is, if you continue to be careless as you are now, you just might end up getting your companion snatched away from you. A fellow of Amati's age, soon as he becomes obsessed with something, he'd do absolutely anything. More than that, you see how young Amati is, but do you know just how big a scale his fish business is? Besides, that fellow was born in a Southern country to quite a distinguished family. Because he was the youngest son, it was obvious that he wouldn't be able to make good use of his skills under his older siblings. So, about three years ago, he ran away from home, alone, and finally came here to do business. Pretty impressive huh?"
Although based on Amati's slender and feeble appearance, this was indeed quite unbelievable, Lawrence had seen with his own eyes how Amati had hired people to transport three cartloads' worth of fresh fish.
Moreover, even though Lawrence was indeed a target for his deals, Amati had effortlessly arranged a room for him at an inn facing a main street. During a period when the town was literally packed with travelers, this was no easy task.
A sense of danger began emerging bit by bit within his heart, but at the same time, Lawrence also felt that Horo could not possibly transfer her affections to Amati so easily.
As Lawrence recalled all the things they had been through since he had met Horo, he became more and more firm in his opinion that Horo would not redirect her affections.
"There's nothing to worry about, my companion isn't such a fickle person," Lawrence assured Mark. "Hahaha, you're pretty confident. If I heard that Adele was walking around with Amati, I'd probably give up and surrender."
"What'd you say about me and Amati?" said Adele, who had been closing up shop in place of her drunk husband and was, since some unknown time, already standing behind Mark with a scary smile on her face.
Four years ago, Adele had met Mark, who had come to Kumerson to do business, and the two had fallen in love. Their love story was quite famous within Kumerson. After this affaire d'amour which even a third-rate minstrel would find unbelievable, the two had entered the chapel. Today, Adele seemed to possess more and more the dignity of a wheat merchant's wife.
When Lawrence had seen Adele for the first time, she was quite slender and fragile in build, but now she was even more robust than Mark.
Adele had given birth two years ago. Perhaps this was a strength shared by all mothers.
"I was saying, if I knew you were walking together with Amati, I, who love you so deeply, would be consumed by the flames of jealousy until I was all covered in wounds," Mark replied to Adele.
"That's alright, you can burn to your heart's content. Once you've burned to charcoal, I'll use that to raise a fire and bake delicious bread as a treat for Mr. Amati."
Adele's acrid words left Mark utterly speechless, and he could only escape by means of drinking. Perhaps women were the more daring within most families, Lawrence thought to himself.
"I say, Mr. Lawrence, drinking in the company of this drunkard would make even quality wine taste bad, wouldn't it? We're all set to close up for the day, so how about coming over to our place so I can treat you to a couple of delicious dishes? Although, the child may be a bit noisy," Adele offered.
Hearing about Mark's child, Lawrence had a difficult time imagining just how much of a rascal the child could be.
Although this alone was enough to dissuade Lawrence, who knew nothing about dealing with children, Lawrence declined the invitation for a different reason.
"I still have unfinished business, so no thanks."
This was of course a lie. However, Adele did not show any suspicion, but only seemed to be filled with regret.
Yet, Mark, who looked as if he had seen right through Lawrence, said with a light smile: "After all, this unfinished business is just too important. Good luck."
Mark had indeed seen through his thoughts, and Lawrence could only return a strained smile.
"Ah, right. About the change in destination, I got it. I'll be keeping my shop open during the festival period, so I should be able to gather perfectly accurate information," Mark added.
"Thanks."
Lawrence finished the rest of the wine in his mug, thanked the couple once again, and bid them farewell. Walking alone on such an energy-filled night in the marketplace, Lawrence detected a natural increase in his walking pace, and could only smile a strained smile.
He had actually used "still having unfinished business" as an excuse and told such a big lie, Lawrence thought self-mockingly.
The fact was, seeing the interaction between Mark and Adele had triggered a desire in Lawrence to return to the inn.
As for the reason for wanting to head back to the inn, even if Lawrence knew full well what it was, he was unwilling to mention it even in his heart, much less speak it in front of others.
The image of Horo and Amati walking together happily surfaced briefly in Lawrence's mind and vanished. Although indignant at heart, Lawrence noticed several times that he had been consistently increasing his pace.
Along with the darkening of the night sky, the clamor that came from outside the wooden window continued to grow louder. Lawrence listened to the noise as he used pen and ink borrowed from the inn to write down his future business plans. At that very moment, Horo returned.
He had come back to the inn just now in a bit of a flurry, only to discover that Horo hadn't even returned yet. Although this gave the feeling of a disappointment in expectations, it was also fortunate that Horo had not been able to see his flustered appearance, which allowed him to loosen up a bit.
Horo said that Amati had accompanied her to the front of the inn, so she had come upstairs alone. However, judging by the fox-skin scarf around Horo's neck, it wasn't difficulty to see how badly Amati had been played. Looking at the situation, Amati had most likely bought a lot of other things for Horo as well.
Compared to the relief and joy in seeing Horo return safe and sound, the headache that struck Lawrence as soon he began thinking about how to repay Amati for all this was even greater.
"Mm...I feel horrible. Mm....you....help me a bit," said Horo.
Lawrence wondered just how much Horo had eaten and drunk. She seemed incapable of undoing her silken sash by herself.
Although Lawrence found it unbelievable, he nevertheless got out of the chair with a helpless look and assisted Horo, who was struggling fiercely by the bed, in undoing her sash and also helped her remove the robe that had been tied to her waist as a skirt.
"Hey, at least take off your scarf and shawl before lying down, or they'll get wrinkled." Lawrence's reminder only elicited a vague and indistinct response from Horo.
Lawrence managed with great difficulty to prevent the sitting Horo from simply lying down right then and there, and helped her remove the scarf, the shawl made from rabbit skin, and the triangular kerchief tied over her head.
Horo had long since drifted off to sleep after leaving Lawrence to freely remove her clothing. The reason she had bid Amati farewell as soon as they had reached the front of the inn was probably because she had already reached her limit as they were on their way back, struggling to maintain her composure.
After Lawrence finally managed to help such a Horo remove the scarf, shawl, and triangular kerchief, he allowed her to lie down directly in bed.
Watching such a carefree Horo, a strained smile involuntarily surfaced on Lawrence's face. Yet, seeing the sheen of the hair on the fox-skin scarf he now held in his hand, he could only let out a light sigh. It would be quite normal for such a quality item to be used as a resell product, but giving it away to someone was almost unimaginable.
"Hey, don't sleep yet. Did you make him buy anything else for you?"
Judging by the situation, perhaps Horo had really asked Amati for other, even more costly things.
Yet, Horo no longer possessed the strength even to lift her feet onto the bed, and maintained that strange posture as she snored and slept. It appeared to Lawrence that even the ears Horo was so proud of made no response at all, and she had already sunken into a deep slumber.
Lawrence revealed a look that seemed to say, "Can't figure you out at all," and lifted Horo's feet to rest on the bed. Even so, Horo still did not wake up.
Is Horo leaving herself so completely defenseless because she trusts me? Or is she simply looking down on me?
Lawrence couldn't help asking himself. However, he decided that thinking about such things was only asking trouble for himself, and chose to toss these thoughts to the back of his mind.
After setting the scarf and shawl on the desk, Lawrence began folding the robe.
At that moment, an object fell out from inside the robe, and hit the surface with a "kadong." Picking it up for examination, Lawrence found that it was a beautiful cube-shaped piece of metal. "Iron...? No, that's not it."
The cube-shaped solid possessed perpendicular edges that were the result of careful grinding with a knife, as well as a smooth surface that was worthy of praise, clearly visible even under the faint moonlight. Judging from the careful craftsmanship, even if it was just a block of metal, it possessed considerable value. However, Lawrence could only guess how much of a tantrum Horo would throw if he woke her up for the sake of asking what type of metal it was. Lawrence decided to ask about it when Horo woke up the next day, and set the metal cube on the desk.
He hung the robe on the chair back, folded the triangular kerchief and, after smoothing out the wrinkles, rolled the sash back up.
Lawrence silently complained about having to do such work befitting a manservant. Yet, as soon as he saw the sight of Horo, having long fallen asleep with her habitual carefree snore, his indignant mood vanished in an instant.
Seeing that Horo made no motion to do it herself, Lawrence approached the bed and drew the covers over her, once again revealing a strained smile.
Then, Lawrence made his way back to the desk, and tried to redirect his thoughts to his business plans. Since the original business route did not allow for him to search for Yoitsu while staying in the North for an extensive amount of time, what had to be done was simply to reroute the path on the premise of doing business in the Northern regions. Putting aside whether or not to really alter the business route, at least it wouldn't hurt to first come up with a plan for business.
Besides, it had been a long time since he had put down on paper the towns of various areas and the path of business and named one by one the famous or highly-profitable products of the various regions, thinking about the business route from various angles.
Thinking back on the times when he would willingly sacrifice sleep in order to settle on a plan, Lawrence was filled with a sense of nostalgia.
However, there was a key difference between the past and the present. Was this plan made for his own sake, or for someone else's?
Lawrence listened to the carefree snore as he continued working energetically and quickly until the animal oil-made candle was finally burned out.
"Food, liquor, scarf, and this die." "Anything else?" asked Lawrence.
"That should be it. Also, I received an impressive amount of sweet talk,"
Horo said as she bit lightly on the comb for grooming her tail. Hearing this, Lawrence looked at her with a beaten expression.
Lawrence, relieved to find that Horo had awoken without a hangover, began interrogating her about the events of the previous night. Under the abundant lighting, Lawrence was more certain than ever that the gifts Horo had received were all items of considerable cost.
"I see you ate and drank to your heart's content yesterday. And what's the deal with this scarf? You actually accepted such a gift.," said Lawrence.
"The quality of the fur is very nice, is it not? However, it still loses to my tail." "Did you ask for this from him?"
"I certainly am not so shameless. He insisted on buying it for me. However, giving a scarf as a gift is rather original."
As soon as she sensed Lawrence's gaze shift from the fox-skin scarf to herself, Horo said with her face full of joy: "You wish to keep me tightly within your control."
"I don't have time for your jokes. You can't expect to accept such a costly gift without making some kind of repayment? Seriously, I was originally just planning to use someone else to make you happy, but look at the debt I'm facing now."
"Hehehe, so you were scheming such a plan after all. Aie, I knew it all along." "I'll be deducting the repayment for the scarf from your funds for the festival."
Horo, hearing this, immediately threw Lawrence a resentful glance, but upon discovering that Lawrence was staring right back at her, turned her face away, pretending not to see.
"....Seriously, you didn't happen to also reveal your ears and tail did you?" asked Lawrence. "That you have no need to worry about. I am not so foolish."
Although thinking back on the state in which Horo returned the previous night, Lawrence couldn't help having some doubts, he also felt that Horo probably wouldn't have failed to notice something like this.
"Did Amati ask about our relationship?"
"I would first like to know why you ask," Horo demanded in return.
"If we don't have an agreed-upon explanation ahead of time, people will start guessing."
"Yea, you are right. I have been closely questioned on many matters. I answered that I am a traveling nun, whom you rescued just as some evil men were planning to sell me."
Other than the mention of Horo being a nun, the rest more or less accorded with the facts, Lawrence thought to himself.
"And then, although I was rescued by you, I incurred a large debt as a result. Because I have no way of actually paying the sum, I have been praying for your safe journey in order to repay my debt to you, being such an illfated woman..hmm hmm, I even made a special effort to employ a sad tone of speech. What do you think? I fabricated a nice story, did I not?" Horo continued.
Although Lawrence felt that the story seemed to portray him as the bad guy, he had to admit, it was convincing.
"As soon as he heard me say this, the young fellow immediately bought me the scarf," The fake traveling nun said with a devilish smile.
"That story is convincing enough. So, what about this die? Why did you get something like this?"
Lawrence was unable to make out the color clearly the previous night under the faint moonlight, but looking at it now, he discovered that this cubic metal die that appeared to be the work of an expert blacksmith was a yellow-colored mineral.
Without closer examination, the metallic die greatly resembled a piece of unpolished gold. However, Lawrence had seen this kind of gold-like mineral before.
This was a natural mineral that had not undergone artificial processing.
"Oh that. That is something used by the fortune tellers. It is said to be a die allowing one to see the future. The shape is beautiful, is it not? It is quite impressive that something so beautiful could be made. Surely it can be sold for a good price," replied Horo.
"Foolish mule, you think you'd be able to sell something like this?"
Lawrence purposely scolded Horo using her own characteristic tone. Hearing this, Horo's ears stood up stiffly, like springing out a set of claws.
"This isn't a die, but a mineral known as pyrite. Also, it's not man-made."
Perhaps because she had not anticipated such a statement from Lawrence, Horo revealed a surprised look. However, Lawrence ignored her reaction and, picking up the crystal of pyrite from the desk, tossed it at her and said: "So, the harvest-controlling sage wolf doesn't seem to be so familiar with rocks. That 'die' already looked like one the moment it was dug out."
Horo played around with the pyrite in her hands with a smile on her face that seemed to say, "Impossible." "You should know I'm not lying."
Horo let out a light groan, and held the pyrite with her fingers.
"There aren't any special uses for this kind of thing, and it's often peddled as a local specialty. Moreover, because it resembles gold in appearance, it's also used to trick people. Did you see any other people buying this?" asked Lawrence.
"A lot of people bought it. The fortune teller who was using this die to tell fortunes was very accurate in his predictions, that even I was very much amazed. He even made the blind claim that anyone who possessed this die could use it to predict his own fate, so a great many people fought over the buying of his die. The fortune teller also used a variety of other reasons to promote their sales."
"A lot of people wanted to buy something like this?"
"Yea. Even the die that were less beautiful and smoothly-shaped than this one, the fortune teller claimed to have powers such as healing or the ability to drive out evil."
Lawrence couldn't help feeling impressed with the fortune teller for being able to come up with such a profitable business. During times when festivals or fairs were being held, unusual items would occasionally create new popular trends.
This was exactly what was meant by taking advantage of the bustling atmosphere to make some money, thought Lawrence. It was quite something for the fortune teller to be able to come up with the idea of using pyrite for business.
"That die was actually gained through Amati's bid," Horo continued. However, this time Lawrence was really surprised.
"Through bidding?"
"Everyone reacted with so much enthusiasm back then. It was the first time I had ever seen people competing in an auction, and I was quite startled. Therefore, it should have a good selling price."
Horo's words reminded Lawrence of Bartose who traveled among the mining region of Hairam.
Did Bartose know about this? If Bartose had a stock of pyrite, or if he had connections through which pyrite could be gained, perhaps this could become a profitable business.
Lawrence had just thought to this point when he heard knocking outside the door. "?"
Lawrence's first thought was that perhaps Amati had already discovered Horo's ears and tail for quite some time, but on the other hand, he also felt that Horo with her sharp instincts would have detected it should this be the case.
Lawrence directed his gaze from the door to Horo, and found that she was slowly raising the bed quilt to cover herself from the head. It appeared that whoever had come was not a dangerous visitor like those encountered at the estuary town of Pattio.
Lawrence approached, and opened the door without hesitation. Standing outside the door was the little boy from Mark's shop.
"Very sorry to bother you so early in the morning. The master asked me to pass a message," said the boy.
The time at that moment couldn't exactly count as "early in the morning," but Lawrence couldn't think of anything that would require specially sending a messenger boy at this hour when the marketplace was just getting ready to open.
The first thing that came to mind was that perhaps Mark had become seriously ill, but then again, if that were the case, the boy probably wouldn't have said that it was the master who wanted to pass a message.
Horo shifted slightly as well, but only stuck her face out a little bit.
Thus, the boy became aware of her presence, and shifted his gaze toward her. Seeing a young woman whose body was covered from the head down with a bed quilt, the boy seemed to make the wrong connection, and instantly turned away his bright-red face. "So, the content of the message is?"
"Ah, ye...yes. The master asked me to inform you immediately, so I ran all the way here. The situation is-"
Having heard a message of such unbelievable content, Lawrence began running through the streets of Kumerson as well.
Early in the morning, the streets of Kumerson were already filled with vitality.
As he passed through the large street that connected north with south and made his way toward the foreign firm to the east, Lawrence could see that someone was erecting signs that looked like guideposts all over the place.
Lawrence glanced quickly at the signs as he ran with the boy. He discovered that the signs were indeed very much like guideposts, though he couldn't understand at all what was written on them. Written on the signs were words from a language he had never seen before. Some of the signs even had fresh flowers, turnip leaves, and wheatgrass bound to them for decoration.
These signs were probably to be used in the Raddora Festival that would begin on that day. Too bad Lawrence did not have at the moment the leisure and mood to find out the truth.
Perhaps because the boy was always being asked by Mark to run here and there, his pace was very fast, and he showed no signs of running short of breath. Even Lawrence, who had considerable confidence in his physical vigor, could only barely manage to keep up. As Lawrence was just about out of breath, the two finally arrived at the foreign firm.
The sturdy wooden door of the firm, which normally gave off a strongly exclusivistic (note: Yes that is a word and no I didn't just coin it) air and was usually tightly shut was now generously open. Three or so merchants were already drinking at the entrance this early in the morning.
The three were originally facing the firm's interior and chatting happily, but as soon as they discovered that Lawrence had arrived, they waved at him and at the same time called out loudly toward the inside: "Hey, the greatly reputed knight, Hashim has arrived."
Hearing himself referred to as the knight Hashim, Lawrence became fully convinced that what the boy had told him was neither a lie nor a joke.
This was a tale that circulated within the ardent country surrounded by sea and vineyard -- a famous love story from the country of Arius.
And the court knight, Hundel La Hashim was the protagonist of this tale. However, Lawrence was not at all thrilled about being referred to as a knight.
The knight Hashim had fought bravely for his true love, the noblewoman Elisa, and accepted a duel with the king's son, Phillip the Third, with Elisa as the prize. But in the end he had suffered the tragic fate of death.
Lawrence ran up the stone steps, pushed aside the cheering merchants and rushed into the firm.
Every gaze was fixed on Lawrence like spears directed at a criminal condemned to death by dismemberment.
At the innermost end of the firm, in other words, in front of the bar counter at which the owner of the firm was situated... stood the son of the king, Phillip the Third. "I hereby re-declare!"
The sharp and sonorous, youngster-like voice rang out in the hall of the firm.
The voice came from Amati, who was not clothed in the greased leather coat typical to fishmongers but in a robe required by formal occasions, looking very much like the son of an aristocrat.
Amati's gaze was directed straight at Lawrence. All the merchants in the hall held their breath in silence as they watched Amati.
At that moment, Amati held up high a short sword and a sheet of sheepskin paper and declared: "I shall repay the debt which weighs upon those slender shoulders of the traveling nun. When the beautiful goddess regains her liberty, I will swear by St. Lambardos, who watches over the Rowen Trading Guild from above, that I shall willingly devote my sincere love to the traveling nun Horo."
The sound of laughter mixed with exclamations and cries filled with unbelievably passionate energy resounded within the hall.
Amati completely disregarded the noise. He slowly lowered his hand and, turning the short sword in his right hand 180 degrees, held it by the hilt and passed it toward Lawrence. As he did this, he spoke: "Miss Horo has already informed me of her misfortune, as well as the treatment she has been given. I plan to use my identity and my fortunes as a free man to help her retrieve the feathers of freedom, and propose to her."
The words Mark had spoken to Lawrence the day before surfaced clearly in his mind.
A fellow of Amati's age, soon as he becomes obsessed with something, he'd do absolutely anything.
Lawrence carried a bitter mood as he looked first toward the hilt that Amati was handing to him, and then to the sheepskin paper.
Because there was still some distance between Lawrence and Amati, Lawrence could not clearly make out the contents written on the paper, but he figured it was probably a formal composition detailing what Amati had just declared. The red mark at the bottom-right corner of the paper was surely not a wax seal, but one of blood.
In areas lacking a notary public, or when desiring a contract more valuable than one certified through a notary public, people would adopt the contract law. This so-called "contract law" meant that the one whose blood seal was on the contract had to hand a short sword to the other party and then swear in God's name.
When unable to abide by the contract, the one who printed the blood seal had to either kill the other party with the short sword, or direct it at his own throat.
The moment Lawrence accepted the short sword from Amati, the contract would be formally established.
Of course, Lawrence did not take action, because he had not expected at all that the situation would evolve to such a height.
"Mr. Lawrence."
Amati's gaze was piercing, as if the words had come from his eyes.
Lawrence did not feel that he could escape Amati with a third-rate excuse or by simply disregarding him. In his anguish, Lawrence spoke words that would help buy time: "Horo's debt to me is a fact, and it is also true that I have asked her to repay her debt by praying for my safe journey. However, that does not mean that if her debt is cleared, she would no longer wish to be my traveling companion."
"But of course. However, I am confident that she will give up being your traveling companion for my sake," Amati responded.
"Oh?!" A small wave of cries sounded in the hall once again.
Even though Amati did not appear to be drunk, his appearance at that moment was very much like that of Phillip the Third.
"....Besides, even if she is not one hundred percent devout, Horo is still a traveling nun. To marry-"
"If you think that I do not understand the rules concerning such a situation, then you are worrying too much, because I am aware that Miss Horo does not belong to any convent," Amati retorted.
Lawrence could only keep his lips tightly sealed so as to avoid letting the word "Damn" slip from his mouth. There were two types of traveling nuns. The first category consisted of nuns who belonged to such places as mendicant convents that were not officially recognized by the Church. The second category consisted of self-proclaimed traveling nuns who did not belong to any convent at all.
Most traveling nuns belonged to the latter category of self-proclaimed nuns, and referred to themselves as such simply for the convenience of travel. Of course, since they did not belong to any convent, they were naturally not subject to the marriage restrictions imposed on clergy members.
Amati knew that Horo was a self-proclaimed nun. As such, it would not work to find a convent now and have a lie arranged to deceive him.
Amati continued to speak in a steady flow: "To be honest, it is not my wish to propose the contract to you, Mr. Lawrence, in such a manner. Surely everyone present is thinking of me as Phillip the Third from the tale of the knight Hashim? Nevertheless, according to Kumerson city law, when a woman is in debt, her custodian is the one who holds the right of creditor. Of course-"
Amati paused for a moment here. He then cleared his throat once and continued: "If you Mr. Lawrence, as Horo's custodian, would unconditionally assent to my proposing to her, then there would be no need to bring out such a contract."
Such rarely seen drama involving two men competing over one woman made the best subject of conversation at banquets.
The merchants whispered and snickered amongst themselves as they continued to watch the situation's development.
Any experienced merchant was certain not to believe that the relationship between Horo and Lawrence was as Amati had described. Perhaps it would be more appropriate to say that those who actually believed it was for the sake of paying off her debt that the traveling nun was praying for the traveling merchant's safe journey were the ones who had issues. A normal person would naturally think that the nun was staying with the merchant so that she would not be sold to offset her debt. Or, she was staying with him out of her own free will.
Of course, Amati had probably considered such possibilities as well, but most likely he thought it was the former.
To free the poor, illfated and beautiful nun from the fetters of debt; certainly it was because of such an honorable and just reason that Amati was able to ignore the gaze of the public and take such a bold action.
Even if Amati did not actually feel this way, the current situation still made Lawrence look like the bad guy. "Mr. Lawrence, you are willing to accept the short sword that seals the contract?" Amati questioned.
The merchants that were looking on opened their mouths and grinned in silence.
The traveling merchant who had brought a beautiful girl with him looked like he was just about to have the girl snatched away from him by the young fishmonger for not having been properly on his guard.
A show as entertaining as this one was definitely not something you would see everyday.
And no matter what excuse Lawrence tried to push away the contract, it would only make him look worse. As such, Lawrence's only choice was to bear himself nobly in order to match Amati.
Besides, Lawrence believed that Horo would definitely not give up traveling with him simply because Amati helped clear her debt, so there was nothing to worry about.
"I am not so careless as to sign the contract without even having read it," said Lawrence. Amati nodded, withdrew the short sword, and handed Lawrence the sheepskin contract.
Under the glances of all in the room, Lawrence gradually made his way toward Amati and accepted the contract to look over.
Surely enough, the content inscribed on the contract did not differ much from what Amati had just said; it was just expressed in much more difficult language.
Within the contract's content, the part that Lawrence was most concerned with was the sum that Amati needed to repay.
Just how much did Horo say she owed?
Judging by the degree of confidence with which Amati had made his declaration, perhaps it was a pretty cheap sum.
Then, Lawrence found the sum written in one of the lines.
For a moment, Lawrence thought he must have been seeing things.
One thousand Trenni silver coins.
Lawrence felt a sure sense of relief spread within his heart.
"You are sure that the content of the contract is without error?" he asked.
Lawrence reread the contract from the beginning, and made sure there were no equivocal points that could serve as traps. Naturally, Lawrence also tried finding points within that were not traps and that could be used to his own advantage.
Yet, the inflexible, abstrusely-worded document was designed specifically to avoid providing Lawrence with such an opportunity and prevent any liability to the proposing party.
Seeing Amati nod in response, Lawrence could only nod as well. "I understand."
Having said this, Lawrence handed the contract back to Amati, and signaled his intention with his eyes. Amati once again passed the hilt of the short sword toward Lawrence.
Lawrence reached his hand toward the hilt, and at that moment, the contract was formally established.
Every merchant present served as witnesses to the contract. More importantly, the contract of the sword was sworn in the name of the guild's patron saint, St. Lambardos.
The merchants all cheered and brought their mugs together, taking it upon themselves to set down the conclusion to this entertaining show.
Within the din, the two contractors looked at each other silently before leaving the contract and short sword in the care of the weary-looking firm owner.
"This contract is effective until the last day of the festival, in other words, sunset tomorrow. You have no objections?"
Lawrence nodded in response to Amati's question, and added purposely: "Please pay the one thousand Trenni silver coins in cash. I will absolutely accept no haggling or divided payments."
Even if Amati was a fishmonger capable of simultaneously transporting three cartloads of fresh fish, there was no way he could possess the financial resources needed to come up with a thousand Trenni silver coins easily. If he were a merchant of such incredible financial strength, Lawrence would no doubt have heard about him long before this.
Of course, if it were a purchase whose sum amounted to a thousand Trenni silver coins, Lawrence did not doubt that Amati could easily accomplish that.
However, to put it in blunt terms, Amati's behavior was equivalent to buying Horo with a thousand silver coins. As long as Lawrence had no intention of selling, the thousand silver coins would simply be going directly from Amati's pocket to his own.
If Amati were really to do such a thing, he would lack the funds necessary to buy fish the next day. Even if Horo were to actually accept Amati's proposal, surely what awaited the two would be a bleak future life and business. Although a poet would say that money cannot buy love, the opposite was also truth.
"Then, Mr. Lawrence, let us meet here again tomorrow."
Even so, Amati's face still showed an inextinguishable excitement. No one called out to him as he walked out of the firm in big strides, head held high. Everyone's gaze then refocused on Lawrence.
If he did not express anything at that moment, everyone would take him for a worthless traveling merchant who had fallen for Amati's trick.
Lawrence straightened his collar, and said with full confidence: "I am sure my companion would not surrender herself to him if it is something as trivial as repaying a debt in her place."
A wave of cheers rose up from all around, as if to say, "Well said," and soon, calls like "Double for Lawrence, four times for Amati! Who wants to place a bet?" rang out throughout the firm.
The one who had volunteered to become the banker of this bet was a salt merchant familiar to Lawrence. As soon as he noticed Lawrence looking in his direction, he gave Lawrence a wide grin.
The fact that the payoff for betting on Lawrence was set at a lower value meant the merchants present had determined that Amati was more at a disadvantage. When Lawrence had seen the one thousand silver coins mentioned in the contract, the sense of relief that spread inside him was not based on a hopefully-expectant observation. Rather, looking at it with common sense, Amati's proposing such a contract was obviously a foolhardy act.
The merchants' bets that continued to be placed one by one were also mostly in favor of Lawrence. As the betted sum grew higher and higher, so grew Lawrence's confidence.
Although Lawrence was almost scared out of his wits when he had first heard Amati declare his intention to propose to Horo, the actual chances of Amati fulfilling the contract were extremely low.
Moreover, even though as of right now, the odds already appeared to be stacked against Amati, there was one last key that gave Lawrence even more comfort.
In other words, as long as Horo didn't nod her assent, Amati and Horo could not possibly get married. Concerning this point, Lawrence had absolute confidence.
Amati could not possibly know that Lawrence and Horo were currently searching together for Horo's hometown in the North.
Lawrence had mentioned to Horo before that to a merchant, information was more important than anything. Not having acquired information was like going onto a battlefield blindfolded.
Amati's situation right now was a classic case of lacking information. Because of one oversight, even if he were to run all over the town, spending every effort and finally managing to gather the one thousand silver coins to help clear Horo's debt, Horo was still very likely to continue north with Lawrence.
Lawrence pondered over all this as he apologized to the firm owner for having stirred up such a commotion under uncontrollable circumstances, and left the firm.
The merchants would no doubt direct their attention to Lawrence as soon as the bets were all placed, so Lawrence thought it best to leave before then, because he certainly did not wish to become a banqueting topic.
As Lawrence pushed through the numerous merchants and managed with some difficulty to exit the foreign firm, he found someone familiar standing outside.
It was the person who had introduced Lawrence to the chronicler Deanna, Bartose. "You've certainly run into something quite troublesome."
Seeing Lawrence respond with a strained smile, Bartose showed a sympathetic smile-and immediately uttered a "But," and continued to speak: "I believe Amati proposed the contract because he's thought of a way to summon up the funds." Hearing such an unexpected remark from Bartose, the strained smile faded from Lawrence's face. "It can't be."
"Of course, the method doesn't seem like it could be counted as decent," Bartose added.
It certainly couldn't be like the method he had employed back in Rubinhaigen, thought Lawrence.
In Kumerson, there was no product whose import required a heavy tax. Without the problem of taxes, there was of course no point in smuggling.
"I'm sure that before long, the news will have reached everyone's ears. If I show too much support for you, Mr. Amati would be too pitiable after having summoned up the courage to make such a bold declaration in the firm. I just wanted to tell you this ahead of time, Mr. Lawrence."
"But why?"
Bartose revealed a smile like that of a youngster.
"Because no matter what the reason, having someone to travel with is always a happy thing. If this traveling companion were to be snatched away, to a traveling merchant, that would just be too harsh,"
Bartose said with a smile on his face. His appearance made one feel that what he had said was completely in earnest.
"You should probably hurry back to the inn and come up with a counter plan right?" Bartose suggested. From Lawrence's point of view, Bartose was just like a business associate who was willing to conduct a large business deal with conditions favorable to Lawrence. Lawrence gave him a sign of gratitude and headed in the direction of the inn.
Amati had already come up with a way of securing the funds.
Although Lawrence had evaluated the situation incorrectly, there were still things between Lawrence and Horo that Bartose did not know about.
Lawrence continued to ponder the situation back and forth as he walked along the street whose traffic was being regulated due to the festival.
The conclusion he came to was that Horo would definitely not lean toward Amati.
After Lawrence had recounted the events that had come to pass to Horo, who had stayed at the inn the entire time, he received an unexpectedly cold response.
Horo certainly showed surprise when she had heard the message conveyed by Mark's apprentice boy, but now, she seemed to consider grooming her tail to be more important. She was sitting cross-legged and had placed her tail directly on her legs for grooming.
"So, have you accepted the contract?" she asked. "Aye."
"Really...,"
Horo said with a cold look, and immediately directed her gaze towards her tail. Watching Horo's uninterested appearance, Lawrence couldn't help feeling a bit sorry for Amati.
Lawrence gazed out the window, telling himself, "There's nothing to worry about at all." At that moment, Horo suddenly spoke: "You." "What is it?"
"If that naive young master were really to pay the thousand silver coins, what would you do?"
Lawrence felt that if he answered, "What do you mean what would I do" at that moment, Horo would most definitely reveal a disappointed expression.
Most likely, Horo wished to know the first thought that surfaced in Lawrence's mind when faced with such a question.
Lawrence pretended to ponder for a moment, and purposely chose a less-than-ideal answer with which to respond: "After settling all the money you've spent, I'd give the rest of the money to you." The ears on Horo's head moved slowly, and her eyelids concealed half of each eye. "Do not test me," she said.
"It would be too unfair if I were always the one being tested, wouldn't it?" "Hmph."
Horo gave a puff of her nose with a look of dissatisfaction before drawing her gaze back toward the tail next to her hands.
Lawrence had intentionally not revealed the first thought that had surfaced in his mind.
Moreover, Lawrence did this as a test to see whether Horo would detect that he had intentionally withheld the truth.
"In the case that Amati fulfills the contract, I'll also keep my end of the bargain," he said. "Oh?"
Although Horo had not lifted her face, Lawrence of course knew that she was not looking at her tail at all.
"Of course, you were free to begin with, so you can act according to your own will," Lawrence continued. "Quite a bit of confidence you have."
Horo changed her cross-legged position, letting her feet rest on the floor.
Her posture was a bit like the ready position she assumed every time she planned to pounce on Lawrence, which caused him to recoil slightly, but he immediately replied with great confidence: "It's not that I have confidence, but that I trust you." A single thing could be said in many different ways.
Although in the end, what was expressed was the same idea, Lawrence felt that putting it this way seemed manlier.
For a moment, Horo revealed a stunned expression, but being quick in reaction, she seemed to detect what Lawrence had in mind.
After laughing cheerfully for a moment, she quickly stood up from her bed and said: "Seriously, you look much cuter when you are panic-stricken."
"Even I am deeply impressed with how much I've grown."
"Hmph, you think you count as a grownup simply by carrying yourself in a dignified manner?" "Is it not so?"
"In a gambling match, if you bear yourself in an easy manner only after having assessed the odds and determined that the situation is in your favor, that is merely a show of a little cleverness and not the behavior of a grownup at all."
Hearing the centuries-old sage wolf express her brilliant view, Lawrence couldn't suppress a look of suspicion, as if he were facing someone who was marketing an odd piece of merchandise.
"For example, when Amati had proposed the contract, refusing it would have been an admirable course of action as well, would it not?
Before Lawrence even had a chance to say, "Not at all," Horo seized the initiative and continued: "Mostly likely, you had first judged the reactions of those around you and determined whether or not you would lose face, had you not?"
"Erh...."
"How about we consider the situation in which our standpoints are switched. In other words, I would say this-"
Horo cleared her throat once, and said with her right hand pressed against her chest: "I could not possibly accept the contract. I wish to always be together with Lawrence. Even if I am in debt, that also counts as a bond that connects me and Lawrence. No matter how many bonds already exist to connect me and Lawrence, I cannot stand it if even one of those bonds were lost..as such, even if I were put to shame right here, I would not accept the contract..just like that, how about it?"
This almost seemed like a scene from an opera.
Horo's expression was so serious that her speech moved Lawrence deeply to the depths of his heart. "If I heard someone say this to me, I would surely be breathless for joy."
Although Lawrence was aware that Horo was of course joking, he also felt that her words were not without reason.
Yet, Lawrence was certainly not willing to admit it outright, because the moment he did so, he would be admitting that he was a spineless man who had accepted the contract in order to preserve his public image. Moreover, if he had really made such a bold declaration in public, even if he did not become an object of ridicule right then and there, it would have posed problems for him later on.
"Perhaps that would indeed be a manly act, but whether or not it counts as the act of a grownup is another matter altogether isn't it?"
Horo folded her arms in front of her chest, and allowed her gaze to drift momentarily in the air before nodding her head lightly and speaking: "Indeed, although that is the behavior of a good male, it is also the rash behavior of a youngster that shows no consideration of consequences. Hearing such a declaration would perhaps bring a sense of joy, but, it would probably be a bit excessive (note: the Chinese here literally means "it would probably cause a stuffed burp," which doesn't make much sense in English, hence my choosing to translate it according to its implied meaning)."
"I was right, wasn't I?"
"Yea. Thinking about it this way, perhaps the behavior of a good male and that of a good grownup are mutually exclusive. A good male appears childish, whereas a good grownup appears to be good for nothing."
If an obstinate knight were to hear an utterance so disrespectful of men from Horo, he would probably be angered into drawing his sword in confrontation.
Seeing Horo looking at him with a mocking smile, Lawrence naturally did not give up on countering: "In that case, how would the sage wolf Horo, who is both a good woman and a good grownup, respond if she were faced with Amati's contract?"
Horo's face still wore a smile.
Keeing her arms folded before her chest, she immediately replied: "By smilingly accepting the proposal of course."
Lawrence was speechless at hearing this, and Horo's smile followed him relentlessly.
Seeing Horo's light smile, and the effortless ease with which she seemed to be able to accept Amati's contract, Lawrence could imagine just how calm and composed, how profound she was.
Yet, Lawrence did not harbor the same thoughts as Horo.
This made Lawrence realize once again that the one standing before him was, after all, Horo, the self-proclaimed sage wolf.
"Of course, once I had signed the contract and returned to the inn, I would go like this, approaching your side without uttering a thing..."
One step at a time, Horo forced Lawrence into the corner next to the window, loosened the arms that were folded in front of her chest and, reaching out gently to Lawrence said: "...and lower my head."
The way Horo drooped her tail and ears, and the way her shoulders sagged as if completely devoid of strength had an illusory appearance. If this were a trap that she had set up, surely it was one that could not be seen through.
The next second brought a snicker from Horo, which filled Lawrence with apprehension.
"However, you count as a good merchant. Surely you signed the contract because you had decided that this was a gamble with a good chance of winning. Even so, you will undoubtedly make numerous moves in the shadows, just to be sure."
Horo lifted her head, waving her ears and tail in a seemingly happy fashion and at the same time swinging around in a half circle, allowing her body to press firmly against Lawrence's side.
Of course, Lawrence immediately understood Horo's intention. "You want me to take you to see the festival right?" he asked.
"In order to fulfill a contract, a merchant would not hesitate to bribe, would he?"
The contract between Lawrence and Amati was not directly related to Horo. Even so, whether or not Amati's proposal would succeed was the end of this commotion. To describe the situation in completely unembellished terms, whether or not Lawrence could earn the thousand silver coins in full was completely dependent on Horo's mood.
Given Lawrence's position, how could he afford not to bribe Horo, who held the power of jurisdiction? "In any case, I have to make a move to gather information on Amati, so I guess I'll bring you along while I'm at it," he said.
"You mean you will take me out, and gather information while you are at it?" "Fine,"
Lawrence, who had received a punch in the waist from Horo, smiled and answered with a sigh.
The first thing that needed to be done was to investigate Amati's financial state.
According to Lawrence's calculations, Amati could not possibly produce the one thousand silver coins all at once, and Bartose himself had said that in order to gather the money, Amati was even employing methods that were not altogether decent, so this was probably true.
However, if Amati were really to come up with the required sum, it would be quite troublesome. Thus, Lawrence decided to pay a visit to Mark's vending stand and request his help with the investigation.
Because Mark kept his shop open as usual during the festival period, he had not had the opportunity to see the commotion for himself, and thus readily agreed to help. In such a situation where rumors were being spread continuously but with few merchants who had actually seen Horo's true face, bringing Horo to Mark's stand was indeed extremely effective.
Compared to being able to watch the developments of the commotion from a front-row seat, providing a bit of help was a trivial matter.
"Besides, the person who'll actually be running all about town isn't me," said Mark.
Although the boy running the errands stirred one's sympathy, his was a road that everyone needed to pass, the thought of which put Lawrence in a complicated mood.
"But, is it really alright for you to be running around with the rumored beauty?" asked Mark.
"She said she wanted to see the Raddora Festival. Besides, if I'd kept her confined in the inn room, wouldn't I really become someone who's using debt to tie her down?"
"Although Mr. Lawrence has put it that way, what is the truth of the situation?"
Mark smiled and asked Horo. Horo was dressed today in the usual city girl fashion, and had donned the fox-skin scarf given to her by Amati. She appeared to understand what Mark was thinking, and with both hands pressed against her chest replied: "There is no hidden truth about it. I am in fact bound by the fetters of a heavy debt. These chains, which obstruct my view of the future, are so heavy that I cannot escape no matter how much I wish to....if you would be willing to help me undo these fetters, even if my face were to be dirtied with flour, I would gladly accept it."
Having heard this, Mark instantly burst into laughter.
"Wahahahaha, no wonder Amati would fall before your feet. Judging from the situation, the person who's really being tied down is most certainly Lawrence."
Lawrence turned his face away without counterattacking. He knew that with Mark and Horo attacking from both sides, he did not stand a chance.
However, perhaps because Lawrence normally carried himself in a benevolent manner, his savior appeared at that very moment.
The little boy made his way through the crowds and ran over. "I've found it," he cried.
"Oh, good work. What're the results of the investigation?"
As the boy reported to Mark, he did not forget to greet Lawrence and Horo.
Surely he was not interested in hearing words of approval from Mark or Lawrence at this time, but wished instead to see Horo smile.
Horo, who understood the boy's state of mind, tilted her head and beamed a smile that appeared more graceful than usual at the boy. Her very sinful act caused the boy's face to flush bright red. "What are the results?"
Seeing Mark ask this with a malicious smile, the boy was flustered as he prepared to reply. Having someone like Mark for his master, the boy was no doubt frequently teased ever since he began his apprenticeship there.
"Ah, yes. Uhm, the amount before tax deductions in the tax account book is two hundred Iredo," he reported.
"Two hundred Iredo huh. Which means...about eight hundred Trenni silver coins. This sum should be the amount Amati has on hand that the city council has knowledge of," said Mark.
With a few exceptions, any merchant who possessed a certain amount of money was required to pay taxes. All taxed amounts were recorded in the tax account book, which could be freely viewed by any merchant who had business associations with one whose tax records were found in the book. Through his friends, Mark had enlisted the help of merchants who had business dealings with Amati in investigating Amati's taxed sum.
However, a town merchant was not likely to provide an accurate report of his property to the city council, so Amati no doubt more or less possessed a certain amount of undeclared property. Besides, the bulk of any merchant's fortunes existed in the form of crediting rights.
Yet, even if Amati did in fact possess other property, he still could not possibly produce a thousand silver coins all at once to buy Horo.
As such, if Amati really planned to fulfill the contract, he could only resort to such methods as borrowing money or gambling that allowed huge sums to be gathered in short periods of time.
"Where is Kumerson's gambling house?" asked Lawrence.
"It's not like gambling is permissible in Kumerson just because there's no church here. At best, you can find people playing cards, dice, or 'catch the rabbit (note: really, I have no idea what this is...).' There's also an upper limit to the stakes. Gathering the sum by gambling is impossible."
From the way Mark was able to immediately provide an exact answer after hearing just a simple question, it was apparent that he had also contemplated and analyzed the possible means by which Amati could gather the money.
Whatever the case may be, Amati's action was the equivalent of preparing to spend a thousand silver coins buying an item that could not be exchanged for money. No merchant would be uncurious as to what the source of Amati's funds was.
Lawrence continued to consider these matters as he thought about what investigation to request Mark's help with next. Suddenly, Mark spoke: "Oh yeah, speaking of gambling, I heard that in addition to the bet over the outcome of your contract with Amati, there's another bet for after the contract is completed." "After it's completed?"
"Aye. In other words, in the scenario where Amati successfully carries out the contract, the bet over who will be the winner after that."
Mark revealed a provoking smile, and Lawrence's expression turned sour.
Horo, who had become the key person in this match, seemed to have taken an interest in the wheat and flour piled within the stand. She allowed the boy to lead her about diligently as she looked around inside.
Mark's words seemed to have reached her ears as well, and she looked in Lawrence's direction.
"Although you currently hold the advantage, the payoff is one-to-two. It's a pretty close game," said Mark. "I should have the banker share some of the money with me."
"Hahaha. So, what is the actual situation?"
For Mark to be asking such a question was unquestionably to gain useful information concerning the bet in order to win some money, as well as because of a natural interest in joining in on anything fun.
Lawrence did not pay much attention to Mark's question, and only gave a shrug. However, Horo, who had approached Lawrence unawares, responded to the question.
"There are many questions in this world that are difficult to answer even if the answer is already known. For instance, the mixing ratio of flour."
"Erh."
Mark looked quickly in the direction of the boy, who shook his head vigorously as if to indicate that he had said nothing. The mixing ratio of flour that Horo had mentioned referred to the flour's purity. In order to increase the quantity of flour, a wheat merchant would frequently add a bit of flour of cheaper cost into the flour grounded from the original wheat.
If the amount of the different flour added was kept at a very small quantity, even a wheat merchant who came into contact with flour on a daily basis would not be able to tell. However, for Horo who dwelled within the wheat, surely this could be done with one glance.
Horo smiled maliciously and continued: "You wish to ask me what I would do if the debt were to be cleared?"
Horo employed her specialty -- a smiling face that was really not smiling at all.
Both Mark and the boy shook their heads vigorously, and looked to Lawrence with supplicant eyes.
"But then, the only thing that can be done is to keep watch on the opposing side's actions directly," said Lawrence.
"How insidious."
Horo's to-the-point remark pricked at Lawrence's chest.
"I wish you'd simply describe it as a competition beneath the water surface. After all, the opposing side will certainly send people to watch my every move as well," he responded.
Yet Mark, who had regained his composure, sang a different tune: "No, I don't think so. You see, in spite of his weak appearance, Amati did in fact run away from home by himself to this border town and achieve all that he has with his own power. Moreover, he's still so young, and self-centered on many matters. Not only does he not place importance on the lateral connections among us town merchants, he'd even look down upon the kind of shady behavior just mentioned. He only believes in his ability to determine the quality of fish, his eloquence at promoting sales, and the blessings of God."
"Almost exactly like a knight," Lawrence thought to himself. To think that Amati could reach his current position in such a manner, Lawrence could not help feeling a bit envious.
"Maybe it's precisely for this reason that Amati would fall madly in love with the charming girl who'd suddenly arrived in town? After all, among the women of town exists a lateral connection even stronger than that among town merchants. They're always paying attention to any surrounding criticism and spying on one another. As soon as one seems to stand out too much, they'll all attack that person unanimously; I'm sure they're also people whom Amati would look down upon. Of course, after marrying Adele, I discovered that not all the women in town are like that."
As a traveling merchant, Lawrence could understand Mark's explanation very well. From an outsider's perspective, the women of Kumerson were indeed as he had described.
Lawrence glanced at Horo, who had walked up to his side. He felt that under those circumstances, it was quite possible that Amati would fall head over heels for her with just one glance. Besides, the fact that most believed Horo to be a normal girl would make falling in love with her all the more likely.
"However, even if Mr. Amati is such a person, I'm still free to make use of the merchants' lateral connections. If it were a competition between knights, such insidious behavior would perhaps be frowned upon, but in a competition between merchants, complaining about something like this wouldn't be acceptable."
"Aye, I agree on that point."
Having said this, Mark looked towards Horo.
Lawrence looked again towards Horo as well, and Horo, as if she had been just waiting for Lawrence to look in her direction, held her cheeks in her hands and spoke in a shy manner: "How I wish someone would honorably attack me from the front every once in a while."
Mark must have also come to the realization that beating Horo was an impossible feat, Lawrence thought to himself.
After that, Lawrence had decided to request Mark's assistance in gathering information on Amati through his connections. While asking Mark's help, Lawrence did not forget to add to his explanation Bartose's mention that Amati seemed to have already come up with a way to gather the funds.
Although Lawrence had faith in Horo, if he were to take that as an excuse to sit around doing nothing, he dared not imagine what Horo would do to drag him down. Besides, concerning the point of gathering information on Amati, Lawrence was also contemplating the possibility of hitching a free ride with Amati to make a large profit.
Because it would only serve to disrupt Mark's business if Lawrence and Horo continued to loiter in front of his stand, the two left as soon as Lawrence had finished making his request.
The streets of Kumerson seemed to be filled with more and more vitality. Even after walking out of the marketplace and onto the plaza, the crowds were still as immense as in the marketplace.
The time was approaching noon, and every tempting stand along the way attracted huge lines of customers. Of course, this was not enough to discourage Horo, who clutched tightly to the coin won from Lawrence's hands as she lined up in front of the stands that attracted her.
Lawrence watched Horo waiting in line from a distance, thinking it was about time the bell toll signaling the arrival of noon sounded. At that moment, a rather blunt and low sound suddenly rang out.
"A bugle?"
The thought of bugles reminded him of shepherds; this made Lawrence think of Nora, who had taken a great gamble with them back in Rubinhaigen. However, he felt it would be troublesome if the sharply-instinctive Horo were to see through his thoughts.
As Lawrence banished Nora's image from his mind and looked for the source of the sound, Horo, who had successfully bought her desired item -fried dough-walked back to him.
"Did you hear that just now, the sound like that which is made by shepherds?" she asked. "Aye. If even you think so, that must've really been the sound of a bugle."
"This place is overflowing with the scent of food, such that I cannot make out at all the scent of any sheep nearby."
"There should be plenty of sheep in the marketplace. But that still doesn't explain why someone would be blowing a bugle in town."
"Yea. After all, the shepherd girl is not here."
Because Lawrence had long anticipated Horo's saying this, he did not appear too shaken.
"Erh. If you are not at all shaken, does that not make it appear like I am trying to test you?" said Horo. "Then I'm simply overjoyed, joyful to a frightening degree."
Horo bit into the fried dough with a crunch, her face full of joy. Lawrence smiled lightly as he once again directed his sight to his surroundings. He discovered that the crowds were all moving in the same direction -- all the people were making their way towards the town centre. The bugle call just now must have been the signal for the commencement of the festival.
"The festival has probably begun. Want to go see?" asked Lawrence. "It would be boring to do nothing but eat."
As Lawrence strode out with a strained smile, Horo followed close behind, and reached out her hand to grasp Lawrence's.
The two moved with the crowds, heading north along the edge of the marketplace. Soon, the sound of people cheering mixed in with the sounds of flutes and drums reached their ears.
Ahead of them could be seen city girls dressed in a manner similar to Horo's, or what seemed to be black-faced apprentices who had snuck out from work, traveling preachers with three feathers attached to their garments, as well as lightly-dressed knights and soldiers. It was certainly a diverse gathering.
Judging from the direction of the cheers, the source appeared to be the intersection of the two main streets that divided the town into four quadrants. However, due to the crowds, the intersection could not be seen at all. Although Horo tried stretching her neck to get a view of the festival sights, even Lawrence was unable to see, much less Horo, who was significantly smaller than him.
Lawrence suddenly remembered something and, taking Horo's hand, turned into an adjacent alley from the large street.
Contrasting sharply with the clamorous street, upon entering into the alley, the surroundings immediately quieted down. Here could be seen beggars shrouded in tattered cloth sleeping with an expression that seemed to indicate that the street's lively atmosphere had nothing to do with them, or craftsmen preparing the merchandise for their vending stands working busily in their open workspaces.
Horo seemed to realize immediately where Lawrence was planning to take her, and followed in silence.
If the festival was being held in the main streets, the inn at which the two were staying would surely provide a perfect vantage point from which the festival's spectacular sights could be clearly seen.
The two moved briskly along the almost deserted alley, entered the inn through the back door and made their way to the second floor.
Having reached the second floor, they discovered that someone else had also come up with the same idea, and was planning to make a profiting business out of it. The doors to some of the rooms facing the street stood wide open, and a sly-looking merchant had pulled a chair outside one of the doors and was playing casually with some coins in his hand as he sat there.
"On this point, we should thank Amati," said Lawrence.
Entering the room and opening the wooden window, Lawrence instantly discovered that the window side formed the best spot to view the festival.
He had only to peek out his head to take in everything that was happening at the intersection of the two main streets running east-west and north-south. Moreover, even a normal glance out the window was sufficient to see the entire festival.
The people playing the flutes and drums at the intersection all had identical long black robes fitted over them and covering the entire body, giving them a bizarre appearance and even making it impossible to tell whether they were male or female.
Behind this group clad in black followed another group of incredibly-dressed people.
Some of the costumes consisted of multiple portions of cloth sewed together to form a huge garment hiding several people underneath, with a human-faced mask raised up where the head should be; some consisted of a very long robe fitted over someone playing a giant, probably with several other people, each sitting on another's shoulders underneath the robe. Some of these giants carried large swords made by fitting together a series of wooden sticks, and others carried large bows taller in height than a person. Every time these giants waved around their enormous swords or bows, the spectators responded with cheers.
However, just as Lawrence was about to think, "I guess that's all there is to the show," a wave of excited cries was heard from the crowds, followed by the sound of a different set of instruments.
Horo gave a soft cry as well, and Lawrence, fearing that he would block her view, reached his head out the window.
The inn was situated at the southeast corner of the intersection, and a procession of quaintly-dressed paraders seemed to be emerging from the east.
Although this procession was also led by a group of people clad in black, the people following behind were dressed in a fashion very much distinct from that of the group within the intersection.
Some had their faces painted completely black and wore a pair of cow horns on their heads, and some carried feathers on their backs. Among the group were also people draped with animal furs. Even if Horo were to mix into the procession with her ears and tail revealed, she would probably not be discovered. As this procession passed through, what arose was a sound perhaps more appropriately described as a scream than a cheer, and at the same moment, a wheat puppet of height much greater than that of a human appeared. The puppet had four legs, was in appearance similar to a dog, and in size even larger than Horo in wolf form. It was supported on a wooden rack and carried forth by about ten men.
Lawrence was just about to address Horo, but, seeing that Horo was focused on watching the developments of the festival, decided not to say anything.
Puppets with animal-like appearances or modeled after animals continued to show up one after another within the procession and lingered at the intersection, which had transformed into a public square.
Not long after that, the people in black who went before and led the processions glanced at the erected signposts scattered about the area, pointed in various directions with their fingers, and started moving about.
Seeing the actions of the people in black, Lawrence guessed that this was not a simple masquerading parade, but had some kind of story to it. Too bad he did not possess any knowledge in this area. Just as Lawrence was considering finding an opportunity to ask Mark about it once the festival was over, he discovered that yet another procession was making its way over from the north end of the street running north-south.
This time, the procession seemed to consist of normal people. Included within the procession were people dressed in tattered clothing, dressed as nobles, as well as those dressed as knights, but they all had one thing in common in that they all carried spoons in their hands. Just as Lawrence was feeling incredulous and wondering why everyone was carrying spoons, the three processions came into contact with one another at the center of the crossroads, and the paraders were calling out loudly in a language he had never heard before. The surrounding spectators uttered low exclamations, and listened tensely to the dialogue of the paraders. Even Lawrence felt an involuntary tenseness.
Just as Lawrence was wondering what would happen next, the black-clad people all pointed in unison toward the same direction.
They were pointing in the direction southwest of the intersection, and all the people directed their gazes toward that direction.
Lawrence looked to the southwest, and discovered that since some unknown time, several handcarts loaded with large barrels were already parked there. After laughing in a much exaggerated manner, the people surrounding the handcarts immediately pushed them forth into the intersection.
The black-clad people began to play their instruments, the quaintly-dressed people and those pulling along the animal puppets began to sing in unison, and those responsible for opening the barrels began scooping up the liquid within with ladles and sprinkling it in every direction.
The sprinkling action seemed to function as a signal. The crowds of spectators watching from a distance entered the intersection as well and each person began dancing at will.
The scope occupied by the gathering dancers continued to increase in magnitude. A few of the quaintly-dressed people ran out of the intersection and moved along the street, dancing all the while.
The passers-by on the street were influenced by these people, and one by one began dancing as well. In the blink of an eye, the entire street had transformed into a large-scale dance floor. At the center of the intersection, the people who had been part of the processions hung to one another's shoulders and began a roundel (note: a.k.a. circle dance or round dance). The festival, once it reached such a point, could in no way be stopped. Today everyone was certain to sing, dance, and revel all the way till daylight.
Judging from the atmosphere, Lawrence could tell that the signal for the commencement of the festival, perhaps more accurately described as a commotion, was at an end.
Horo withdrew her body, which had been almost completely outside the window, and said immediately as she looked to Lawrence: "Let us go down and dance as well."
Speaking of the number of times Lawrence had danced in his lifetime, it could easily be counted with five fingers. That was because Lawrence had always done his best to avoid participating in such festivals. After all, he felt that dancing alone would only add to his sadness.
Having thought to this point, Lawrence hesitated for a moment, but seeing Horo's outstretched hand, he changed his mind.
He would be surrounded by drunkards all around anyway, so not being able to dance well mattered little. Besides, Horo's small, outstretched hand was more valuable than a thousand gold pieces.
"Alright!"
Lawrence said decisively as he took Horo's hand.
Horo seemed to sense Lawrence's determination, and said with a smile: "You just have to be careful not to step on my feet."
"....I'll try my best."
And in that manner, the two exited the inn and ran towards the commotion, hand in hand.
Lawrence could not recall how many years it had been since he'd been so wild. He had also never danced, laughed, and drunk to such an extent as he did today.
Perhaps this was the first time he realized that even he could become intoxicated within the flow of a genuinely good time.
Because when the good times had passed, what surged up was always a greater sense of loneliness.
Yet at this very moment, as he supported Horo, who could not stand steadily due to having drunk too much in her revelry by the shoulder and made his way up the stairs of the inn, despite the fact that the heat in his chest had cooled down significantly, what remained was a portion of gladness that was just right. This made Lawrence feel that, as long as Horo was by his side, the cheerful atmosphere would continue to last.
Upon returning to the room, the clamor from the streets continued to flow in through the wooden window, which he had forgotten to close. The night had just begun, so the craftsmen or merchants who had not been able to join in the commotion at noon were certain to begin reveling wildly now.
Besides, the festival seemed to have entered a new phase. On the way back to the inn, Lawrence had taken a look back in the direction of the intersection and discovered that the people were shuttling back and forth hurriedly.
If Horo still had any strength left in her, she would undoubtedly make a fuss over watching. Unfortunately, there was her current state.
After letting Horo lie in bed and continuing the manservant's task from the previous day of putting Horo's clothes in order, he could not suppress a sigh.
However, this was not an unhappy sigh, but one that came out along with a smile upon seeing Horo lying defenselessly with her cheeks flushed.
Perhaps it would be a bit unfair to Amati to say so, but Lawrence no longer held any sense of fear over the contract he had signed.
Forget about fear, before he returned to the inn, he had forgotten altogether that he had even signed a contract in the first place.
When he arrived back at the inn, the innkeeper had mentioned that someone had left a message. It was mark, and the content of the message was, "Have already found out Amati's means of making money, come to the store quickly."
Even upon hearing the words, "come to the store quickly," the first thought that emerged in his mind was, "I'll just go tomorrow." This was an idea that Lawrence would normally never have, and truly opened his eyes to the fact that the contract was very far down in his list of priorities.
Compared to Mark's message, what concerned him more was the letter he had received along with the message. The letter was sealed with wax, and "Deanna" was written in beautiful handwriting in the spot for the sender. The innkeeper had said that the letter was delivered by a man with a sturdy coffin-like build (note: here we go again with Mr. "Coffin" Bartose xD). That person was surely Bartose.
Lawrence had requested back then that Deanna notify him if she remembered anything else about Yoitsu, so it was possible that the letter's contents concerned it. Though the thought of opening the letter and taking a look flashed through his head, in the end he decided against it, feeling that if he were to sit down and read the letter, it would only make him even lazier about heading out to see Mark.
After slipping the letter he had taken out back in his coat, he closed the window through which the clamor continued to sound and prepared to leave the room.
As he reached out his hand to open the door, he suddenly detected someone's gaze on his back. Turning around, it was of course none other than a sleepy-faced Horo, who was just trying to open her eyes and look in his direction.
"I'll be going out for a bit," said Lawrence.
"...going out hiding a letter tinged with the scent of a female within your bosom?" Horo's displeasure seemed not to stem from a struggle with her sleepiness.
"She's quite a beauty. Does it bother you?" Lawrence teased. "....Foolish mule."
"She's a chronicler. Do you know about this type of occupation? She's the one providing us with information on Yoitsu, and is very familiar with ancient legends and myths of the North. Though I haven't looked at the letter yet, I was able to gain a lot of useful information just by talking to her yesterday, and even heard a story related to you." Horo rubbed her eyes for a while like a cat washing its face, before sitting up slowly to speak: "...Story? About me?"
"Your legend remains in a town called Renose. 'Horuo of the wheaten tail,' that refers to you right?" "....I do not know. But, what did you mean by 'useful information?'"
Horo seemed to be fully awake now. After all, the subject was her home town.
"In the legend of Renose, there was mention of the direction from which you'd arrived." "Is...."
Horo's eyes grew wide, and her body went stiff. Her emotion emerged a step later on her face. "Is it true?" she asked.
"Why would I lie to you? It's said that you had come from the forest east of Renose. To the southwest of Nyohhira, at the point where it meets the forest east of Renose is where Yoitsu is situated."
Having heard this unexpected news, Horo pulled the covers clutched tightly in her hands closer toward herself, and lowered her head in silence. Her wolf ears quivered slightly and continually, as if every hair upon it was filled with the emotion of joy.
The Horo before Lawrence was like a young maiden who had lost her way, and who revealed an expression of immeasurable relief at finally finding a familiar path after passing endless years.
Slowly, Horo drew in a deep breath, and exhaled with great force.
The fact that Horo did not burst into tears on the spot was probably due to her pride as a sage wolf. "You didn't cry, how well-behaved."
"...Foolish mule."
The fact that Horo pouted her lips slightly was perhaps because she truly was on the verge of crying.
"To be honest, the scope was way too large just knowing that the location's to the southwest of Nyohhira. With this, the scope has narrowed down significantly. Even though I haven't read the letter yet, I'm sure it's just supplementing information. Judging by the situation, we may be able to find our destination sooner than imagined," said Lawrence.
After nodding her head, Horo directed her gaze away slightly, and looked in Lawrence's direction once again as if peeping at him while she hugged the covers.
Within her amber eyes tinged with a bit of red shone a light of anticipation mixed with agitation.
Only the tip of the restless-looking tail was swaying back and forth. Such an appearance made Horo seem like a weak and gentle maiden, making it hard for Lawrence not to give a strained smile.
However, if Lawrence were unable to understand what Horo was saying with her eyes, even if Horo were to sever his throat on the spot, he would have deserved it.
Lawrence cleared his throat once, and replied immediately: "We should only need about half a year to find it."
Lawrence could clearly sense the blood renewing its flow within Horo's body, which had become as stiff as a stone sculpture.
"Mm," Horo said, nodding, her face full of delight.
"So, that's how things are. The sender of this letter is just like a dove bringing the gospel. You're the one who had it all wrongly distorted. Go take some time in self-reflection."
Even though Horo pouted her lips in displeasure, Lawrence of course knew that she had done this on purpose.
"Then, I'll be heading over to Mark's for a bit," Lawrence continued. "Hiding a letter tinged with a female's scent in your bosom?"
Hearing the same thing over again from Horo, Lawrence couldn't suppress a laugh. What Horo meant was, "Leave the letter behind," Lawrence thought.
Despite not being able to read, she still wished for Lawrence to leave the letter behind, but such flustered behavior proved too embarrassing for Horo, so that she was unable to come out and say it directly.
Seeing the rare sight of Horo's completely unveiled state of mind, Lawrence handed her the letter, feeling very much amused.
"You said just now that the sender is a beauty, did you not?" said Horo. "She's a beautiful woman who gives off a mature charm."
Horo raised a shrewd brow and narrowed her eyes at Lawrence as she received the letter. "You are a bit overly mature, becoming a bit too cunning," Lawrence continued.
Hearing this, Horo gave a tooth-revealing grin.
"Anyway, Mark seems to have discovered Amati's method of obtaining the thousand silver coins. I'm going to hear what he has to say."
"Really? Do give it everything you have to come up with a counter plan, so that I am not bought from you." Given the amount of interaction he had had with Horo all this time, Lawrence naturally did not take Horo's words seriously.
He shrugged his shoulders and responded: "You can open the letter if you want to look at it. Although, you'll have to learn how to read first."
Horo gave a puff of her nose and lied down in bed holding the letter, before waving her tail a few times as if to say, "Hurry up and go." The way she appeared was just like a dog that was carrying a bone back to its own territory.
Of course, Lawrence did not dare to utter such a thought. He simply smiled silently, opened the door and left the room.
As he closed the door, Lawrence glanced again at Horo, who waved her tail a few more times as if she had known all along that he would do so.
Seeing Horo's action, Lawrence could not help laughing lightly. He closed the door slowly, fearing that making too much noise would disturb Horo.
"Seriously, for someone who's asking for another's help, you sure seem pretty relaxed, Lawrence." "Sorry."
Lawrence was originally pondering whether he should head straight to Mark's home, but he decided that perhaps Mark was still at the marketplace and thus chose to look for him at his vending stand first, and it all turned out just as he had expected.
Within the stands scattered throughout the marketplace could be seen people drinking and reveling beneath the moonlight. Among the night watchmen responsible for watching over the merchandise, quite a few had also succumbed to temptation and begun drinking.
"Although, I am pretty free during the festival period anyway, so it's no big deal," Mark continued. "Is that so?"
"Aye. No one would want to walk around carrying goods during the festival right? Especially with space-consuming goods like wheat, they're always sold before the festival begins, and purchased when the festival ends (note: Mark is speaking strictly from a merchant's point of view, so "purchased" refers to the merchant replenishing his stock once his previous stock has been sold out.). Though, the after-night festival doesn't count."
Lawrence had heard that the after-night festival was held after the two-day main festival was over. This celebration, which lasted even longer than the entire period of the town-wide fair, was really no more than a big feast. However, Lawrence could understand the townspeople's state of mind in being unable to resist using the festival as an excuse to revel madly and drink to their hearts' content.
"Besides, thanks to gathering information for you, I've actually already made a bit of profit, so I won't ask you for anything in return this time."
The smiling Mark carried a merchant's expression as he spoke.
From the looks of it, Amati's method of making money was a business that allowed the possibility of free-riding.
"You're free-riding off of Amati huh. So, what method is he using?" asked Lawrence.
"Oh, speaking of the method he's using, it really is quite ingenious. But, this really isn't because he's thought up some great way of making money. What I mean is, this is a business anyone can easily use to net a huge amount of profit."
"To a merchant, this certainly is an alluring topic,"
Lawrence said as he sat down in a seat consisting of a sawed-short log placed nearby. Mark caught the meaning in Lawrence's utterance, and smiled maliciously.
"I heard that the knight Hashim can really dance. However, if the situation is left as it is, the overlyindulgent knight may have to accept the thousand silver coins, and have his beautiful princess taken away by his opponent," he said.
"Even if you bet your entire fortune on Amati, it won't make any difference to me."
In response to Lawrence's counterattack, Mark did not raise a shield in defense, but instead continued to go on a long-sword offense: "Speaking of that Phillip the Third, I heard he's been saying many malicious things about you." "Huh?"
"He said you're allowing the poor girl to shoulder debt so that you can take her wherever you please; also, you've only been letting the girl eat cold and bitter black wheat porridge, and have been subjecting her to harsh treatment during the course of your journey, things like that,"
Mark said cheerfully as if telling a joke. Lawrence, hearing this, could only respond with a strained smile. Lawrence of course understood that Amati was spreading ill rumors about him as a means of justifying the legitimacy of his own behavior. Yet to Lawrence, compared to the pain of a damaged reputation, the heavy feeling, as if a mosquito were flying around his face, was even more the cause of an involuntary twitching in his face.
Come to think of it, putting aside what a sword-wielding soldier might be able to do, what could a mere traveling merchant possibly do to put a girl in his debt and then force her to travel with him? Within a supported town (note: a town backed by certain powerful figures), a written acknowledgement for a debt would perhaps have some effect, but as soon as one reached the open country, it would be completely useless.
Besides, anyone used to traveling would not consider eating terrible-tasting porridge as regular meals during the course of a journey such a big deal. Perhaps it would be better to say that, to a merchant, who always has making money as his number one priority, even going without regular meals isn't all that surprising.
Surely no one would really take Amati's words as slanders against Lawrence. Yet, that wasn't really where the problem was. The point was that Amati was spreading everywhere the idea that he and Lawrence stood upon the same battlefield, fighting over one woman.
Although this would not have a direct impact on Lawrence's business, to an independent merchant, this really wasn't something worth being happy about.
The fact that Mark would reveal such an annoying, malicious smile was no doubt because he understood the prickly sense of anger that was boiling up within Lawrence. Lawrence let out a light sigh, waved his hand as if to put an end to the discussion and said: "So, what is this profiting business?"
"Oh yeah, I almost forgot. Because I'd heard that Bartose seemed to have already guessed it, I used that as a starting point for my investigation, and soon found what I was looking for."
That would mean it had something to do with Bartose's business, Lawrence thought. "The buying and selling of precious stones?" he asked.
"Very close, but no. It's something totally unrelated to precious stones."
One by one, the products bought and sold by merchants conducting business in mining regions flashed through Lawrence's mind. And then, it suddenly struck him.
He remembered the gold-like mineral that was brought up during his conversation with Horo.
"Pyrite?"
"Oh? You've already heard?" Mark asked in response. It seemed that Lawrence had hit the mark.
"No, I just thought that maybe it could be a profiting business. Something to do with a fortune teller right?"
"It seems that way. Although, I heard that the fortune teller himself has already left Kumerson," Mark replied.
"That so?"
Hearing a sudden cheer, Lawrence directed his gaze toward the source of the sound, and saw that a group of men in traveling clothes and some town merchants were whooping in jarring tones and embracing one another one after the other, seeming very joyful over the reunion.
"But, the statement revealed to the public says that he left because his uncannily accurate fortune telling had attracted the attention of a Church official responsible for the interrogation of pagans. Then again, like anyone would seriously believe such a story," Mark continued.
"Why would you say that?"
Mark took a sip of wine, and took a small gunnysack from the shelf behind him.
"That's totally impossible. If someone from the Church really showed up in town, it would be sure to stir up a big commotion. Besides, the amount of pyrite in circulation seems to me a bit too large. My guess is that the fortune teller bought his supply of pyrite from another town and left this place as soon as all of it had been sold out. Also...."
Mark spilled out the contents of the gunnysack on the discussion table. Under the shining moonlight, the pieces of pyrite rolled about on the table surface, giving off a white radiance. Among these were specimens beautifully shaped like dice, as well as lump-shaped ones that looked like flattened bread.
"I think the fortune teller was purposely emphasizing the rareness of pyrite. Guess how much this is worth right now."
The piece of pyrite Mark held in his hand was dice-shaped, considered the most valuable among pyrite specimens. Going by the original market value, the price should be about ten Iredo, or about one fourth of a Trenni silver coin.
However, Lawrence remembered Horo had told him that the pyrite piece Amati bought her had come from an auction, so he made a slightly more daring guess.
"One hundred Iredo." "It's 270."
"Im-"
Lawrence swallowed the word "possible," and silently cursed himself for not having made a move to seek out and buy the pyrite in stock when Horo first told him about it.
"To us men, such a price would seem ridiculous even if this were some kind of gemstone. But the price of this thing right now is even more ridiculous. As soon as the marketplace opens tomorrow, the price will most likely rise again. Right now, all the women in town are fighting over the buying of this thing. Whatever the times, fortune telling and secret beauty potions will always remain popular products," said Mark. "Even so, isn't this thing being worth 270 a bit too exaggerated?"
"Not only the die-shaped ones, pyrite pieces of various other shapes have all risen in price on the basis that each serves a different function. After all, the women are all persuading the merchants or farmers who have come to the town fair with blandishments to take out money from their full money pouches and buy pyrite for them. Also, speaking of this mineral fit to be called a miracle, which has suddenly attracted the attention of every woman, those women are even competing with one another over who has received a larger quantity (note: wow, talk about vain...). Anyway, for this exact reason, each time a woman acts coquettishly, the price of pyrite rises accordingly."
To Lawrence, who had bought wine or adornments of considerable value for city girls before, Mark's words were particularly unpleasant to the ears.
Yet, compared to the discomfort of the ears, the deep sense of regret that came from watching a huge business opportunity slip through his fingers pained Lawrence even more.
"This is no longer on the level of simply calculating percent profit, but that of several times, or even several tens of times that. In other words, Phillip the Third who is planning to steal your princess is making crazy money as we speak," Mark continued.
Amati seemed to have come up with the idea of helping Horo clear her debt anticipating that the silver coins in his money pouch would multiply immensely.
If Amati had already begun dealing in pyrite at the moment when he bought the pyrite piece for Horo, then it was very likely that he had already made a considerable sum. Perhaps it was really possible that Amati would have the thousand silver coins ready by the next day.
"Even though I've only just started touching this business, I've already made three hundred Iredo. That alone clearly indicates just how abnormal the rate at which the price of pyrite is rising at. Tell me, how could anyone just let this opportunity slip by?"
"Who else knows about this?" asked Lawrence.
"The news seems to have already spread throughout the marketplace this morning. I actually came by this information rather late. I should also mention that, while you and the princess were dancing, the front of the ore merchant's stand was already in a big commotion."
Despite having long since become sober, Lawrence's face became even redder than that of Mark, who was still drinking.
His face flushing was not due to being teased about being with Horo, but over the fact that, whereas even a merchant not so skilled in business would know to take advantage of the opportunity that had already spread throughout the marketplace to make money, Lawrence was actually right next to the marketplace, but indulging in dance.
For a serious merchant, no matter how red his face got, it would be inadequate in expressing his shame. A failed merchant.
For the first time since his loss of composure in Rubinhaigen, Lawrence wanted once again to hold his head and cry out in agony.
"Although, if Amati were really involved in some kind of shady business, it would perhaps be possible to come up with some way of hindering him, but as it is, the situation can't really be stopped. Though I sympathize with you, I can't help but say that you're already a fish in the barrel."
Lawrence of course understood that Mark meant, "Just wait and be taken care of," but that wasn't what was depressing him. It was the fact that, by spending all his attention on having a good time with Horo, he had allowed the opportunity to make a huge profit to slip right by him.
"One more thing, I said just now that this money-making topic has already been spread amongst the merchants didn't I? Those merchants who are planning on reselling are going all about looking for more pyrite to buy, which is causing its price to rise even more rapidly. The point is that, at this moment in time when the wind is just starting to get strong, if you forget to raise the sail, you'll regret it for the rest of your life," said Mark.
"Aye, it certainly wouldn't do to just sit around watching all the ships that have already raised their sails get farther and farther away."
"Exactly, exactly. Besides, just in case things go wrong, you'll be in need of some funds to buy a new princess, right?"
Seeing Mark utter this with a contented smile, Lawrence could not suppress a strained smile, but he also felt that this was a great opportunity to make up for the loss he had suffered in Rubinhaigen.
"Well then, for now I'll just buy some pyrite from you using the uncollected funds for the nails."
Having heard these words from Lawrence, Mark showed an expression of displeasure, as if to say, "I should have known better than to say anything."
After paying a price of thirty Trenni silver coins to buy four pieces of pyrite from Mark, Lawrence made his way through the crowds singing and dancing under the illumination of lanterns, and headed in the direction of the inn.
By this time, the festival seemed to have already entered its second phase, and the sound of violently-beating drums was carried to his ears.
Because of the immensity of the crowds, Lawrence could only catch a brief glimpse of the state of the festival. The second-phase festival activity was different from that which occurred during the day, appearing crude and barbaric in comparison. Lawrence could see wheat puppets colliding with one another, as well as people waving around long swords, engaged in sword dancing.
That the festival would develop into such a state was surprising, since the people were still clinging to one another's shoulders, dancing and drinking before sunset had arrived.
Of course, to view the developments of the festival, sitting in the top seats provided by the inn room was ideal.
Thus, Lawrence pushed through the packed crowds hurriedly and headed towards the inn.
Compared to watching the festival, he actually wanted even more to take some time in contemplation. Although the chances of Amati making the thousand Trenni silver coins and proudly throwing out such a large sum had increased, there was still nothing to worry or be shaken about.
What was really of concern was how much the value of the pyrite he had in hand could increase, how much profit it could bring, and how to trick Horo so as to buy the pyrite piece she had received from Amati for a low price.
At times, items that were normally not highly-valued could suddenly turn into gold. Festivals always carried with them a unique atmosphere.
Upon arriving at the alley deviating somewhat from the noise and light of the main streets, Lawrence found knights and soldiers flirting around with women. Some even had their arms around the women's shoulders, giving not the slightest attention to the gaze of bystanders.
The women leaning in the bosoms of the somber-eyed, suspicious, thief-like knights did not appear to be prostitutes, but normal city girls. If it were not for such a festival period, these city girls would surely only be willing to talk to men of more seriousness and personal integrity.
On the other hand, it was precisely because the heat brought about by the festival seemed to have the effect of dosing the people with some kind of suspicious aphrodisiac, blurring their visions, that unusual phenomena such as the rise of pyrite prices would occur. To a merchant, this was of course something to be viewed with optimism.
As he was thinking about such matters, Lawrence saw a vending stand selling cold melons for those who had burned their throats drinking hard liquor, and bought two as gifts for Horo.
If he went back empty-handed, he could not imagine what kind of venomous words Horo would throw at him. Seeing himself carry one large cold melon, like an egg laid by a huge bird under an arm and holding the other in his hand, he could not suppress a strained smile.
The dining hall situated on the first floor of the inn was as lively as the main streets. Lawrence gave a side glance at the lively scene as he made his way up to the second floor.
Arriving at the second floor, the clamorous scene of the first floor seemed to take on an illusory feel, like watching fire on an opposite shore.
Listening to the faint din, like the sound of flowing water from a small river, Lawrence opened the door and entered.
Just as he was puzzling over why it was so bright in the room, he discovered that the wooden window was wide open.
It must have been to look at the letter that the window was opened, so that light from the outside could enter.
Lawrence had just thought to this point, when he suddenly detected that something was off. Letter?
As soon as he walked into the room, his eyes met those of Horo, who held a letter under the light that shone in through the wooden window.
Horo's eyes appeared frightened. No, that wasn't it.
Those were the eyes of one who had drifted back to her senses from a state of loss.
"You..."
Before Lawrence could even say, "know how to read," the voice within his throat had already grown hoarse.
Horo's lips quivered in fear, and soon after, her shoulders began trembling as well. Lawrence could tell that Horo was trying hard to gather strength in her slim fingers, which had become completely stiff, but the letter slipped out from between her fingers nevertheless.
Lawrence did not dare to move, out of fear that Horo, who had become as stiff as a snowman, would shatter into pieces if he were to make any motion.
The letter Horo had held in her hands was probably the one sent by Deanna.
If Horo had become like this because of what she read in the letter, then the possibilities were limited. The word "Yoitsu" surfaced in Lawrence's mind.
"You, what's the matter?"
The utterance that came out was no different from Horo's usual tone. Despite appearing dangerously like she was on the verge of a breakdown or even on the brink of losing consciousness, a very disharmonious light smile appeared on her face as she spoke, which made Lawrence feel as if he had sunken into a dream.
"Is there something...stu...stuck to my face?"
Even though Horo did her best to speak with a smile, in the end, her twitching lips rendered it impossible for her to speak normally.
Despite Lawrence and Horo being eye to eye with one another, Horo's eyes had long since lost focus. "There's nothing stuck to your face. But, you might be a bit drunk."
Lawrence could not continue standing silently before Horo, so he chose to speak without using any words that might upset Horo even further.
What should be said next? No, he should first figure out what Horo had found out. Just as Lawrence had thought to this point, Horo spoke first: "Yea...yea, I...I am drunk. That is how it is...yea, I must be drunk."
Horo said this with a smile, but due to her trembling, her teeth were chattering as well. She walked up to her bed in a very unnatural manner and sat down.
As Horo moved, Lawrence was finally able to move away from the doorway as well. In order not to let the frightened bird fly away, Lawrence moved very cautiously, and with great effort managed to make his way to the desk.
Lawrence placed the two cold melons on the desk, and casually directed his gaze toward the letter Horo had dropped.
Under the moonlight, Deanna's beautiful handwriting appeared.
Concerning what I mentioned to you yesterday, the town of Yoitsu that has been destroyed since ancient times...
As this description reached his eyes, Lawrence could not help closing them.
Surely it was because Horo had planned to surprise Lawrence in the future or play some trick on him that she said she could not read. Horo, who had said this in a mischievous spirit, did not expect her chance to arrive so soon and thus read the letter that Lawrence had left behind.
But such a mischievous spirit ended up bringing the opposite effect.
Horo must have been extremely concerned over the content of a letter containing information related to Yoitsu.
The image of an overjoyed Horo impatiently opening the letter surfaced in Lawrence's mind.
And then, the words indicating that Yoitsu was already annihilated had suddenly appeared before her eyes. Lawrence simply could not imagine how much of a blow this would have been for Horo.
Horo was still sitting at the edge of the bed, looking at the floor in a complete state of loss.
Just as Lawrence was struggling to come up with something to say to her, Horo lifted her face slowly and spoke: "You, what should I do?"
A stiff smile had surfaced on her lips. "I...no longer have a home to return to..."
Horo neither blinked, nor choked with sobs. Only a steady stream of tears flowed from her eyes like blood. "What should I do...,"
Horo kept saying, like a child who had accidentally smashed something important. It made Lawrence's heart ache, to see her this way. People always became like a child when they reminisced on their hometowns.
Horo was, after all, a sage wolf who had lived for many centuries. Surely she had thought of the possibility that Yoitsu was already buried beneath the river of time.
Yet, just like a child not comprehending reason, in the face of incredibly strong emotions, reason made little difference.
"Horo."
Hearing Lawrence call her name, Horo recoiled momentarily in surprise before returning to her senses. "This is an old legend after all. A lot of old legends are inaccurate."
In order to make his words sound convincing, Lawrence spoke in an admonishing tone. Concerning the possibility of the legend of Yoitsu's destruction being false, it was probably extremely low, because towns that were able to endure many centuries without being destroyed were typically large towns known to everyone.
Yet, Lawrence simply could not find anything else to say. "In...accurate?"
"Yes. Like when a new king or clan begins its reign over a region, in order to mark the region as new territory, rumors like this are frequently spread."
Lawrence was not lying. He had heard several instances of this.
Yet, Horo suddenly shook her head, her tears streaming left and right along her cheeks. Within her eyes was brewing the calm before the tempest.
"If that were the case, why did you hide the truth from me?" she questioned.
"I was trying to find the right opportunity to tell you. This topic is just too sensitive, so-" "Heh."
Horo gave a cough-like laugh.
Lawrence felt as if Horo had been possessed by some kind of demon.
"You...you must have been so happy watching me being carefree and having a good time under a state of complete ignorance."
In that moment, Lawrence's mind went completely blank. Of course, Lawrence could not possibly have felt that way. He did not understand why Horo would say such a thing, and a sense of anger surged up from within, seizing his throat.
However, Lawrence managed with great effort to control his temper.
Because Lawrence realized that Horo just wanted to vent her emotions, whether the target of injury was himself or anything else.
"Horo, calm down."
"I...I am very calm. Is my mind not turning very quickly? You knew about Yoitsu's legend all along, did you not?"
Having Horo suddenly hit his exact thoughts like this, Lawrence was left speechless. Lawrence of course understood that hiding the truth from Horo was his fatal mistake.
"Indeed, yes indeed. You already knew the truth when you met me, did you not? If that is so, then it explains a lot of things."
Horo's expression had changed, appearing like a cornered wolf with no way out.
"Heheh, after all, you...you like weak, pitiable lambs. How does it feel watching me talk about going back to an already-destroyed hometown, being totally ignorant of reality? You must think me cute in my foolishness. So pitiable that it pains your heart, does it not? Even when I am stubborn, you would want to forgive me, and then treat me kindly, is it not so?"
Though Lawrence wanted to speak, Horo continued to say: "That you would tell me to go back from Nyohhira by myself was also because you had grown tired of me, was it not?"
Horo revealed a smile of one who had thrown away everything. Even Horo herself must have understood that the words she uttered were full of malevolence and distortion of facts.
Lawrence felt that, if he were to lose his temper and strike her face, Horo would surely wag her tail happily (note: I don't really understand why this would be, but that's what the text says. My best guess is that Lawrence striking Horo would be a sign to her that he actually cared and was offended by what she was saying).
"Is that really what you think?"
Hearing Lawrence strike her with his words, Horo's fiery eyes stared directly at him. "Yes I do!"
Horo had stood up and clenched her fists tightly. Her hands had already lost their color, and were shaking uncontrollably.
The sharp teeth that Horo had revealed made clashing sounds, and her tail was completely swollen.
Even so, Lawrence did not shrink back, because he knew that Horo's wrath stemmed from an overwhelming sadness.
"That is exactly what I think! You are a human! Humans are the only existence that raises animals! Therefore, you used Yoitsu as bait to test my reaction, surely you must have enjoyed watching-"
"Horo."
Horo had completely lost her sense of reason and was swinging her arms about wildly. Lawrence rushed towards her in a breath's time and seized her arms with all his might.
Horo appeared frightened like a captured stray dog. The strength of her angry resistance was as feeble as her maiden appearance.
With Lawrence holding onto her arms with such force, it was obvious that Horo's strength was no match for his.
Gradually, Horo stopped resisting. She changed her demeanor, looking to Lawrence with begging eyes as she spoke: "I...I have become all alone. What...what...should I do? There is no longer anyone waiting for me to return, no one anywhere...I...have become all alone..."
"Don't you have me?"
This was the unconcealed truth that had come from the bottom of Lawrence's heart. Moreover, such words were not something that could have been uttered casually. Yet, a mocking smile surfaced on Horo's face as she said unrestrainedly: "What are you to me...no, what am I to you?" "Uhm!"
Lawrence could not answer on the spot, and sank into contemplation.
Only a moment later did he suddenly realize that he should have answered immediately, even if it was to tell a lie.
"I do not want this! I do not want to be alone anymore!" Horo screamed loudly, then ceased her movements.
"I say you, would you hold me?"
Lawrence almost loosened his grip on Horo's arms.
Lawrence looked at Horo's smiling face, which carried an intensely cold air. Horo was ridiculing her own loss of reason.
"I am already alone. But, if I were to have a child, that would make two. Look, I am human in appearance right now, so it would not be impossible to be together with you who are a human, would it? You..."
"Please, don't say anymore."
Lawrence could poignantly feel the overflowing emotions within Horo's heart that had no means of escape save through blurting out venomous and cutting words.
Yet, Lawrence did not have such a great ability to maintain a mild attitude while waiting for Horo to calm down.
Therefore, that he was able to say this was already giving everything he had. Horo's smile grew deeper, and her tears welled over once again.
"Heheh...aha...hehehahaha, indeed. You are a softy after all. I will not place such hopes with you, but it matters not, I remember now. There is someone...yes, someone who loves me."
Due to her arms being in Lawrence's grip, Horo could not break free by making large movements, so in order to be able to free herself from Lawrence's hands at any moment, Horo suddenly loosened her fists, which had been tightly clenched, and soon her body also lost its tenseness. As soon as Lawrence released her arms, Horo spoke feebly like an injured butterfly: "This is also the reason why that affair did not bother you at all, is it not? You must be thinking that if you should really be able to receive a thousand silver coins, letting go would not be such a big deal, is it not so?"
Lawrence understood that anything he said under the current situation would be meaningless, so he could only listen silently.
Horo herself became silent as well, as if the last bit of fuel had been burned out.
After that, the silence continued for a good while. Just as Lawrence was about to reach out his hand again, Horo opened her mouth and spoke with a faint voice: "....Sorry."
Slam! The deep noise flowed into Lawrence's ears. At that moment, Horo had forcefully shut the door to her heart.
Lawrence's body was paralyzed, and he was at best able to step back. Horo sat down, gazing at the floor without moving.
Lawrence, who had retreated a few steps, could not even manage to stand quietly for one second. He immediately picked up the letter from Deanna that Horo had dropped, his gaze hastily following the words as if running away.
In the letter, Deanna wrote that she knew a cenobite who specially collected Northern myths and who lived in a village along the path to the town of Renose, which Horo had visited. She suggested that Lawrence pay him a visit. On the back of the letter was written the name of the cenobite. Lawrence closed his eyes, his heart filled with regret.
If he had just read the letter earlier -- Lawrence could not help thinking.
Although Lawrence was suddenly filled with the urge to tear the letter to pieces, he of course knew that such behavior would only be allowing his temper to get the best of him.
This letter was an important clue to finding Yoitsu.
Lawrence could not help thinking that this letter was the thin thread that would allow him to maintain his weak link with Horo, and so he folded the letter and placed it in his bosom.
Then, Lawrence looked to Horo again, but she was still unwilling to lift her face and look at him.
The word "Sorry" she had uttered when Lawrence was about to reach out his hand rang in his ears once again.
There was only one thing left for Lawrence to do, and that was to leave the room in silence. And so Lawrence took a step back, then a second.
At that moment, a loud cheer came in through the window, and Lawrence took the opportunity to turn around and exit the room.
Even though for just one instant, Lawrence felt as if Horo had lifted her face, he told himself that it must have been an illusion brought about by wishful thinking.
As soon as he closed the door with his back to it, he covered his eyes, as if to say that he did not wish to see anything.
Even so, all of this would not simply go away. He needed to come up with a solution.
Even though Lawrence knew that he needed to solve the problem somehow, he could not help asking himself: "Just what should I do?"
Lawrence walked out of the inn.
And made his way into the stranger-filled town.
After stepping onto the street, Lawrence discovered that there wasn't any place for him to be.
The developments of the festival after sunset were completely opposite from the day's activities, being completely devoid of the latter's happy atmosphere.
Not to mention the makeup-wearing paraders, even the puppets made of wheat or wood were each armed with weapons and battling nonstop. As for the giant puppets that could not be armed with weapons, they were brought into the fight as weapons themselves.
As angry cries sounded, the giant wheat puppets crashed into one another. Every time debris flew out, the sound of cheers would follow. The instruments surrounding the site played turbulently, not losing at all to the wild atmosphere of the battle, and the black-clad people were given the responsibility of singing a chilling battle hymn.
Lawrence avoided the crowds and headed north. The clamor turned over and over in his head, which he could hardly bear.
Despite walking continuously along the long street, the clamorous atmosphere was still present, giving Lawrence the impression that the din would never cease. Lawrence continued to endure the torture of the noise, his spirits being gnawed away slowly as if under a witch's curse, and at the same moment, the series of interactions with Horo that had occurred just before surfaced in his mind. Lawrence saw himself standing before Horo, and the sight of himself being so hopelessly useless made him want to scream out in agony, but he held it in forcefully.
Because Lawrence still retained some reason at least, he told himself that if he possessed the energy to scream, why not put that energy and strength into improving the situation.
Yet, after a rational analysis, Lawrence found that the current situation yielded no possibilities whatsoever. Given Horo's current state, perhaps she just might accept Amati's proposal. Because in this battle where effortless gains could be made through the rising prices, Amati might have been the first merchant to become involved, so he had most likely already made a considerable amount of profit.
If Lawrence did not think of something fast, perhaps Amati would not even wait till sunset the next day to bring out all his money and declare the contract complete.
When Lawrence made such a claim he knew he was not being overly pessimistic. "...."
Lawrence felt as if his stomach had been seized by a sense of anxiety, and could not suppress a sound similar to a whimper.
He gazed upward at the dark sky, and covered his eyes.
If Lawrence could not stop Amati from continuing to make huge profits, he could only return to the inn and try to make up with Horo.
Yet, it was clear to see that making up with Horo right now was even more difficult than stopping Amati from making a huge profit.
What am I to you? Horo's question had inevitably caused Lawrence to sink into contemplation on the spot. Even now, after quite some time had passed, Lawrence still could not answer this question.
Lawrence indeed wished very much to be able to travel with Horo, and the idea that Horo would really marry Amati filled his heart with anxiety.
Yet, after regurgitating all that had come to pass just now like a cow, what emerged from his heart was a sour feeling even more intense than stomach acid, causing his face to contort involuntarily.
Within his heart, Lawrence seriously saw Horo as an important existence, but on being asked what kind of existence that was, he could not give a clear answer.
Lawrence massaged his cheeks, trying to forcefully loosen his stiffened face. How could something like this have happened?
Thinking back on it now, the joyous and bustling festival atmosphere seemed but a dream. Surely even the almighty God could not have anticipated such a reversal in the course of a just a few short hours (note: I have to disagree...but whatever).
Ahead and within his line of sight, Lawrence could see a procession of paraders sword dancing as they moved along the street. The totally changed parading procession gave off a savage and ominous air, completely devoid of the reveling atmosphere during the day. Lawrence felt that this was just like his current relationship with Horo, and could not help turning away and quickening his pace.
Lawrence regretted having left the letter on the desk. He felt as if all of this would never have happened if he had not left the letter behind. If he had found a good opportunity to explain everything to her, surely the quick-witted Horo would not have lost her senses like that.
Moreover, Horo's words had pointed out Lawrence's selfishness and lack of resolve. Even if he were to return to Horo in a nonchalant manner, Lawrence did not feel that he would be able to have a good talk with her.
Yet in the end, Lawrence was still unable to come up with a good solution. Unconsciously, he had made his way to Kumerson's lonely northern district.
Because he had been walking very slowly, it took him a considerable amount of time to arrive here, but he had not noticed at all.
Even though the town's atmosphere gave one the impression that every corner was stuffed with people, this was, after all, the northern district. Even on the main streets, the pedestrians were few in number. The marching processions did not seem to come by these parts.
Within such stillness, Lawrence was finally able to calm down and take a few good deep breaths. He turned around, and once again set his mind to thinking as he walked slowly on. First offAt this point, it was impossible to get Horo to calm down and listen to him through mere sincerity. Besides, he didn't even possess the confidence to be able to look Horo in the eye.
As such, putting aside whether or not he would be able to make up with Horo, at least he could not allow her to have a good reason to leave and throw herself into Amati's embrace.
As long as Amati could not come up with the thousand silver coins, Horo would still be tied down by the fetters of debt. Although he still could not say whether Horo would be willing to listen to him and stay by his side, at least he could use debt as a means to justify his reasoning.
Having thought of this, Lawrence felt that it was still necessary to plan towards preventing Amati from completing the contract.
Under the peculiar atmosphere of the festival, it could be said that the price of pyrite was exhibiting an abnormal increase. According to Mark's prediction, the price would continue to go up. Although Lawrence did not know how much pyrite Amati had on hand or how much money he had made, he had heard that current value of pyrite was several times to several tens of times greater than its import price, so if Amati had invested enough money in the trade, he might have already made a thousand silver coins by now.
However, on this point, the fortunate thing was that pyrite was not a mineral that was mined in large quantities.
Even if the profit were several times or even several tens of times greater than the import price, not much money could be made if the invested sum was too low.
Of course, Amati did not necessarily need to rely on pyrite to make the one thousand silver coins, but such an idea was simply self-consolation (note: if that doesn't seem to make much sense, then you and I are in agreement. This is possibly an error in the Chinese translation. The way I interpret it is that Lawrence is still considering the very unlikely possibility that Amati isn't taking advantage of the rising pyrite prices to make money, though at the same time he realizes that this is nearly impossible.)(DissmalScientist: It sounds to me like Lawrence is pointing out that Amati has other sources of income).
Whatever the case, it was absolutely necessary to prevent Amati from continuing to make huge profits. Perhaps it would be even more appropriate to say it was necessary to cause him to suffer losses, because if Amati were to bring out his entire fortune along with the resolve to complete the contract regardless of whether or not it would affect his future business, then it was quite possible for him to gather the thousand silver coins.
However, if it was difficult to prevent Amati from making further profit, it was even more important to make him suffer losses.
Dealing with Amati with a frontal assault was absolutely impossible. As a result of the rising price of pyrite, Amati was clearly able to make huge gains, so there was no need for him to pretend anything.
If there were no reason for him to pretend, then he would not fall for some petty trick. What was to be done then...?
After turning these thoughts over and over in his head countless times, Lawrence still ran into the same problem. Suddenly he looked to the side and said: "Aie, Ho-"
Even though Lawrence was able to stop himself before saying "ro," alleviating his situation somewhat, ultimately he was unable to avoid the odd glance of a man dressed like a craftsman who was just passing by.
Once again Lawrence could feel just how enormous the little figure who was always by his side wearing an arrogant smile had come to be.
He could not help wondering how he had ever managed to pass so many years alone in the past.
If it were Horo, perhaps she would help come up with a good solution. Even if she did not come up with a good plan, she would probably be able to provide some kind of hint at least.
Lawrence realized that, since some time unbeknownst to him, he had built up such a dependency on Horo.
What am I to you?
Seeing himself like this, Lawrence could not give a confident reply to that question at all. In that case, Lawrence should be asking: "If it were Horo, how would she think about this?"
Of course, Lawrence did not think that he could copy Horo's incredible logical thinking perfectly. Even so, Lawrence was still a merchant after all.
As soon as a merchant came upon some unfamiliar formulation, it was his job to make the formulation his own by the very next day, in order to continue surpassing his competitors.
The essence of Horo's thinking was seeing every little detail of a whole situation.
Moreover, faced with a situation like the present one, Horo would not make any divisions, but rather analyze the situation from every possible angle without omitting a single detail.
This kind of thinking appeared simple, but was actually very difficult in practice. Sometimes an idea that appeared to have come straight out of the blue in fact possessed a very natural quality (note: natural as in "of course, why didn't I think of that before?").
Amati was able to make a profit out of the increasing price of pyrite. What way was there to make him suffer a big loss?
Of all the possible methods, what was the simplest and most difficult one to conceive? Lawrence began to think.
He contemplated with a mind unrestrained by a merchant's common sense. With that, there was only one answer that he could think of.
"All that's needed is for the value of pyrite to depreciate."
After saying this out loud, Lawrence laughed with an extremely foolish look on his face. He was making fun of himself for only being able to come so far in trying to imitate Horo.
If it were really possible for the price of pyrite to depreciate, that would of course be good reason for him to shout for joy.
Yet, the market value of pyrite was rising steadily, showing no signs at all of falling. In any case, the rise in pyrite value was already beyond the realm of ten times or twenty times. The value of pyrite would continue to climb up, and"And?"
Lawrence paused in his tracks, having realized something important.
"Ten times? Twenty times? In that case. thirty times would come next? And what about after that?" Lawrence felt as if he could see Horo laughing at him through her nose.
The price of pyrite could not possibly rise indefinitely. There was a rule in this kind of popular business, and the rule was that the moment of collapse would come sooner or later.
Lawrence almost let out a whimper-like cry, hastily covering his mouth and swallowing the sound back in. If that were true, then there were two points that needed to be considered.
The first was when this moment of collapse would arrive, and the second, whether it was possible to cause Amati to fall in.
Lawrence, who still had a hand over his mouth, contemplated this as he continued to walk.
Even if the price of pyrite were to crash, would Amati really fall into the storm of collapse and allow himself to suffer such great losses so carelessly, without taking any kind of action? Lawrence did not think so, because that would be gravely underestimating Amati.
What this meant was, Lawrence needed to do a bit of work in that area. As long as he was able to substantiate the problem, Lawrence believed that his intellect did not lose to Horo's.
The ideal deal (note: not the most graceful use of language I admit.›‹) began to surface in Lawrence's mind, and a cold and heavy feeling settled at the bottom of his heart, a familiar feeling that Lawrence had experienced many times before. This feeling was not based on reason, but was rather an instinct that foretold of the coming decisive battle.
Lawrence took a deep breath, and began contemplating the most important point, which was at what point the crash would occur.
It needn't be said that the market value of pyrite would not go on increasing abnormally forever, but the question was, when would it start to drop? Moreover, Lawrence had no idea whether it was possible for the drop to occur before the contract deadline arranged between him and Amati, in other words, before sunset the next day.
Even a fortuneteller would probably be unable to foretell the moment of the crash. Besides the almighty God, no one could predict that.
However, an image formed before Lawrence's eyes, the image of villagers of a large wheat-producing region attempting to use the power of humans to complete a task that had long been controlled by the gods.
Rather than wait around anxiously for the gods to determine the moment of the crash, why not make a decision for them instead?
Just as this wildly arrogant idea surfaced in Lawrence's mind, the sound of cheers came from the distance, and he lifted his gaze.
Unconsciously, Lawrence had already walked a great distance, arriving once again at the intersection at the center of town.
The wheat puppets at the intersection crashed into one another along with the sound of angry roars. With every collision, pieces of wheat broken off during the crash would fly out and fall to the ground, arousing a wave of cheers. The sight was almost like a real battlefield.
Overwhelmed by such a spirit, Lawrence could not help throwing aside the plan that he had been turning over in his head to watch the festival for quite some time. He suddenly noticed something, and returned to his senses.
In that moment, Lawrence could even feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Amati.
The figure of Amati appeared before his eyes.
To run into Amati so coincidentally among such a huge crowd of people, could this possibly be a joke from God? Lawrence immediately threw away such an idea, realizing that this must have some kind of significance, even if it were in fact a coincidence. Lawrence was standing right in the center of Kumerson.
That was the intersection of the main streets leading north, south, east, and west. Amati was walking with his back to the inn where Horo was.
Then, Amati stopped in his tracks, and gradually turned his head.
For a moment, Lawrence thought Amati was looking in his direction, but Amati did not notice him at all. Lawrence immediately followed the direction of Amati's gaze with his own eyes.
He of course knew where Amati's gaze was directed. However, he simply had to know what Amati saw.
The place Amati had turned back and looked towards after walking off slowly.
At the second-floor window of the inn facing the main street, the sight of Horo with the scarf wound about her neck appeared.
Lawrence felt a wave of anxiety like an abdominal pain, a fretfulness nearing anger surround his stomach, giving him a feeling of particular bitterness.
As if it gave her much warmth, Horo moved her mouth close to the scarf, and nodded her head lightly. On the other hand, Amati pressed a hand to his chest, like a religious knight bearing absolute faith in his goddess.
Lawrence did not know whether Horo had invited Amati into her room, or Amati had shamelessly barged in. However, based on the ways things looked right now, Lawrence did not have much optimistic evidence to overrule his heart's suspicions.
After that, Amati immediately turned about and made off with his back to the inn. Seeing Amati leaving hurriedly with his body leaning forward slightly as if running away from something, Lawrence's suspicions only grew deeper.
In the blink of an eye, Amati's form had disappeared amongst the crowds, and Lawrence shifted his gaze back toward the inn room.
And then, he inhaled sharply.
Because he was sure that Horo was looking in his direction.
Since even Lawrence was able to discover Amati amongst the crowd, there was no reason to believe that the sharp-sighted Horo would not be able to discover Lawrence within the same crowd.
Yet, Horo did not turn away immediately. Of course, she did not smile either, but simply gazed at Lawrence. After an uncertain amount of time had gone by, just as Lawrence was about to let out the breath he had inhaled, Horo suddenly moved away from the window.
If Horo had simply closed the window then, Lawrence would perhaps have lost his motivation.
Yet, even though Horo had left the window side, she did not close the window, but left it wide open instead.
The wooden window seemed to possess an attraction that pulled on Lawrence's feet, causing him to walk in the direction of the inn.
Lawrence was of course not so naive as to believe that Horo and Amati had simply talked through the window.
Due to the fact that Horo was not a simple city girl, and because Amati's feelings for Horo were just then in a state that was anything but level-headed, Lawrence of course had good reason to believe that the two must have discussed something within the room.
Even so, Horo had not appeared flustered or surprised, but had only gazed quietly at Lawrence. This was because Horo had not done anything that Lawrence could not know about.
What this meant, then, was that Horo was intentionally provoking Lawrence.
And what man was there in this world who could remain perfectly unmoved when provoked? Lawrence recalled the conversation he had had with Horo in Rubinhaigen. He felt that Horo would definitely understand if he simply revealed his honest thoughts.
Lawrence made his resolve from the bottom of his heart as he moved towards the inn.
As soon as Lawrence opened the front door of the inn, the cheerful scene of a feast met his eyes.
Each table was filled with all sorts of different foods. The people there conversed or sang as they indulged in drink.
The thought that he and Horo should have been sitting happily at one of these tables caused Lawrence to sigh involuntarily despite being a merchant who took pride in not having the word "regret" in his dictionary.
However, there must have been a chance to reverse the situation. If Horo held a completely rejecting attitude, she should have closed the window.
Lawrence held such a confidence as he stepped onto the staircase leading to the second floor next to the bar counter.
The moment Lawrence stepped onto the staircase, someone called out to him. "Mr. Lawrence."
Lawrence, who was not particularly calm inside to begin with, looked back in surprise, and the one who had spoken appeared startled as well.
The innkeeper who had called Lawrence, was leaning out slightly from the bar counter and blinking continually.
"...Sorry. What is it?" asked Lawrence.
"Ah, it's like this, I have been asked to pass this letter on to you, Mr. Lawrence."
Hearing the word "letter," Lawrence could not help feeling a wave of apprehension in his chest. He coughed once to calm himself back down.
Lawrence walked down the steps, approached the counter and received the letter from the innkeeper's hand. "Who was this letter sent by?"
"It was your companion, delivered just now."
Lawrence's expression did not change one bit, which made him want to praise himself.
It went without saying that the man, as innkeeper, had knowledge of all the guests staying at the inn as well as anyone entering or leaving.
After Lawrence had gone out alone leaving Horo at the inn, Amati had paid her a visit in his absence, and Horo who had received the visit chose not to speak directly to Lawrence, but passed the message to Lawrence via letter instead.
If the innkeeper, seeing such an interaction between the two, did not suspect anything odd at all, that would truly be remarkable.
Yet, the innkeeper was looking at Lawrence with an expression that seemed to say he knew nothing at all. Town merchants possessed deep lateral connections.
Lawrence felt that rumors would be sure to spread immediately if he did not behave in a somewhat dignified manner.
"May I borrow some light?"
Lawrence did his very best to speak with a calm tone. Hearing this, the innkeeper nodded lightly and took a silver candle stand from behind him.
Not using animal fat, Lawrence could not help worrying that the apprehensive spirit hidden under his outer mask would be revealed under the intense light of the candle.
In his heart, Lawrence laughed coldly at himself for having such thoughts. Pulling out the knife sheathed at his waist, he carefully peeled away the wax on the letter.
Although the innkeeper moved quite some distance away as if to indicate that he would not peek rudely at the letter's contents, Lawrence still felt the innkeeper glance in his direction every now and then.
Lawrence gave a light cough before opening the letter and taking out its contents.
The envelope contained a piece of sheepskin paper, along with a normal sheet of paper.
Lawrence could feel his heart beating hard, but if he hesitated now, it would mean that he distrusted Horo. Concerning the possibilities, it would not be surprising even if the letter's contents called for reconciliation. Slowly, Lawrence opened the folded paper, and a few grains of sand fell from the paper as he did so. Lawrence guessed that the grains of sand were used to quickly dry off the ink, which also led him to the conclusion that Horo had just finished writing the letter not long before. Was it a breakup letter, or a reconciliatory one?
The words on the letter jumped out at Lawrence's eyes.
Two hundred silver coins in cash, approoimately three hundred silver coins worth of pyrite on hand. roperty that can be sold off..
Seeing such a direct description with no introductory words whatsoever, Lawrence lifted his head in amazement.
Cash? Pyrite?
Lawrence had originally expected words that would seemingly allow him to hear Horo's voice speaking written in the letter, but what was actually there was merely a cold, unsympathetic sequence of words.
Even so, Lawrence directed his sights to the paper once again. Its content caused him to grit his teeth involuntarily.
...Three hundred silver coins worth of pyrite on hand. roperty that can be sold off worth approoimately two hundred silver coins.
There was no need for Lawrence to rack his brains to know that this was a list of Amati's fortunes.
Just like a solid piece of bread that had been sprinkled with hot water, Lawrence felt all the strength in his body drain away slowly.
Horo had invited Amati into the room in order to obtain this information from his own mouth. If this were really true, Horo must have done so for Lawrence's sake.
This was roundabout reconciliatory letter from Horo.
Even though a smile surfaced involuntarily on his face, Lawrence had not the slightest intention of hiding it. In addition, the line The above was written in my place by someone else was written at the very end of the verbal description.
There were many who could read yet could not write. After obtaining this information, Horo must have used going to the washroom as an excuse to leave the room, and then requested a passing merchant's help in writing down these contents. Because Lawrence had seen Amati's writing on the contract, he was sure that this handwriting did not belong to Amati.
Lawrence carefully refolded the letter hiding a value well beyond a thousand gold pieces and placed it back in his bosom. He then picked up the sheet of sheepskin paper.
Perhaps Horo had used some kind of trick to deceive Amati into signing a contract of startling content, Lawrence thought to himself.
In his mind, the image of the proud and satisfied figure of Amati who had just met privately with Horo surfaced.
--Horo does want to travel with meLawrence was intoxicated with such a sense of security and superiority as he unfolded the sheepskin paper without the least bit of hesitation.
In the name of God..
The handwriting on the sheepskin paper had a powerful, dignified appearance. No doubt about it, this was Amati's handwriting.
Lawrence did the best he could to keep his anxious mood in check, and continued reading. His gaze followed the first line, the second line, the third line...
And thenThe two, under the above declaration, will become formally married.
The moment Lawrence finished reading the entire sentence, he felt as if the world had begun to spin. "....Huh?"
Lawrence murmured. The utterance felt like it had come from a great distance.
Despite having closed his eyes, he could still clearly see the contents of the document he had just read. A marriage certificate.
On the marriage certificate declared with God as witness was written the names of fishmonger Fermi Amati and Horo.
The spot for the signature of Horo's custodian remained blank.
However, as soon as the name of the custodian was filled in the blank spot and the document stamped and sent to any town church, Amati and Horo would be able to become formally wed.
Horo's name was written in an ugly hand.
One could tell in a single glance that the words were written by someone who knew not how to write but was simply imitating.
Before Lawrence's eyes, the image of Horo watching Amati setting down the words as she clumsily signed her own name on the certificate appeared.
Lawrence took out the letter with a hidden value greater than a thousand gold pieces that he had tucked into his bosom, unfolded the paper and reread its contents.
What was written on the letter was surely a list of Amati's property, because the numbers indicated were not unrealistic amounts, but sums that Amati quite possibly possessed.
However, Horo asking for the sum of money that the property amounted to was not in order to help Lawrence, but to inform him of just how harsh the current situation was.
Why would Horo do such a thing? Lawrence felt foolish for even having such a question. Viewed along with the marriage certificate, the answer was readily apparent.
Amati was only a step away from completing his contract with Lawrence, and Horo was planning on leaving Lawrence.
Lawrence and Horo had originally come together by chance.
Despite being young, reckless, straightforward but successful and totally in love with himself, perhaps Horo considered such an Amati to be a suitable new companion.
Lawrence could not find any evidence that could overturn such an argument.
Even if Lawrence were to clutch the certificate tightly, run to the second floor and ask Horo not to marry, surely he would be easily repelled by Horo, whose skill was top-notch.
In that case, Lawrence had no choice but to persevere in his resolve.
The fact that Horo would reveal Amati's list of property was undoubtedly to indicate to Lawrence that if he could successfully defeat Amati, she would be willing to listen to his explanation. On the other hand, it also meant that if he could not manage to do so, there would be no room for discussion.
There is indeed a way to defeat Amati. Relax, there is hope yet.
Telling himself this, Lawrence quickly put away the letter and marriage certificate, and looking toward the innkeeper said: "Please take out all the cash I have stored up here."
From Lawrence's point of view, traveling with Horo was more precious than a thousand pieces of gold.
It was possible to render Amati penniless without breaking the law.
However, the problem was whether Amati would be willing to accept a deal that held such a possibility. According to Lawrence's prediction, it was very possible that Amati was not familiar with the type of deal he was planning to propose. This was not because Lawrence looked down on Amati, but because Amati would not encounter such a deal in his line of business.
Faced with an unfamiliar deal, it was natural that no one would accept.
Plus there was the fact that the one proposing the deal was Lawrence, fit to be called Amati's nemesis.
As such, the odds of Amati accepting the deal were one to nine at best. Even if it were through methods of incitement or provocation, Lawrence needed to get Amati to accept the deal somehow.
Moreover, even if it appeared to be a normal deal on the surface, Amati was sure to notice that the contents of the proposed deal were completely antagonistic.
That being the case, Lawrence could appropriately employ a provoking attitude when facing Amati. This was not a business talk, because Lawrence was not thinking of making money at all.
When a merchant began considering things other than the profits and losses of business, it already counted as a loss. However, Lawrence had long since thrown away such a rational idea.
After inquiring from the innkeeper of the possible bars at which Amati could be spending time, Lawrence began searching them one by one, finally finding Amati in the fourth. In spite of the fervent festival atmosphere that filled the streets outside, Amati drank alone in the quiet bar.
Amati's face appeared somewhat fatigued, perhaps because his tenseness had dissipated after accomplishing the fortunate and important mission of signing the marriage certificate with Horo, or perhaps because he had not yet gathered all of the thousand silver coins.
However, Lawrence did not care one bit about Amati's inner state.
A deal could not always be conducted under circumstances of perfect preparedness. During such times, in order to allow the deal to proceed smoothly, the merchant had to depend on his own ability.
Besides, Lawrence was unwilling to wait until the next day, lest negotiations became even more difficult. Because the deal Lawrence planned to propose just happened to be the type that absolutely did not permit delay.
After taking a deep breath, Lawrence walked into Amati's scope of vision before Amati noticed him. "Ah..."
"Good evening," said Lawrence.
Amati did not seem to believe naively that meeting the disagreeable Lawrence here was a matter of sheer coincidence.
Although Amati was stunned speechless, he had recovered his fishmonger expression after just a few seconds.
"You need not be so on guard. I am here to talk business."
The fact that Lawrence was able to reveal a light smile on his face surprised even himself. Yet Amati, hearing this, replied with a very un-amused expression: "If you are here to talk business, then that is all the more reason to be on guard." "Ha ha, indeed. Then, would you mind sparing a moment?"
Amati nodded his head, and Lawrence sat down at the same table. To the somewhat annoyed-looking bar owner who had come to take his order, Lawrence only uttered a simple, "Wine."
In spite of having a maiden-like, slender body, the opponent sitting face to face with him was a fishmonger who had left his household and come to this place alone, and whose success was within sight. Lawrence reminded himself not to be fooled by his youngster-like appearance, and not to drop his guard.
At the same time, it was even more important not to allow the opponent to keep his guard up. Lawrence cleared his throat once, very naturally, and looked around a bit before opening his mouth to speak: "It is quiet here. This is a good place."
"You cannot drink quietly in any of the other bars. This place is hard to come by."
Hearing this, Lawrence could not help but wonder if "Now my peace has been disturbed by this disagreeable guy" was implied within Amati's words.
Yet, even Lawrence wanted to finish the discussion as quickly as possible.
"So, you must be quite surprised that I would suddenly bring up the subject of business with you. However, you have surprised me yourself in your own way, so that makes us even."
Lawrence did not know what kind of sweet talk Amati had spoken to Horo to win her favor and get her to sign the marriage certificate. No matter how impulsive Horo was, Lawrence did not believe that she would have had the desire to sign the certificate.
If that were the case, it meant that Horo must have done so under Amati's instigation. However, Lawrence did not have any right to blame Horo.
The one who had allowed Amati into the room was Horo, and the one who had caused such a situation in the first place was Lawrence.
Although Lawrence did not know how Amati had successfully persuaded Horo, he raised his right hand and stopped Amati, who was just then preparing to open his mouth to explain this very incident.
"No, I am not here to discuss that incident. However, that incident indeed forms the reason for my coming here to bring up business with you. I do not plan to pursue that matter any further. After all, what decision to make concerning all this is all Horo's own free will."
Amati stared at Lawrence, a hint of anger showing up on his face, then nodded his head lightly.
Although Amati's eyes revealed that he still held suspicions toward Lawrence's words, Lawrence did not plan to make any further explanation to undo his doubts.
That was because what Lawrence needed to say next was even more a cause for suspicion.
"However, it was that incident after all that caused me to think of this business, so I dare not say that this can constitute a normal deal," he said.
"What exactly are you planning?" Amati cut straight to the point.
Yet, Lawrence did not cower at all, but continued: "I'll just cut to the chase. I wish to sell you pyrite."
In that moment, Amati's blue eyes, which had been fixed on Lawrence, trailed off toward some unknown direction in the distance.
"Huh?"
"I wish to sell you pyrite. According to the current market value, approximately five hundred Trenni silver coins' worth of pyrite."
Amati, whose mouth was half agape, brought his eyes' focus back from afar, laughed lightly and said with a sigh: "Please do not joke around." "I am not joking."
Amati instantly retracted his smile, looking at Lawrence with eyes almost wrathful.
"You should be aware that I have made a considerable amount of money reselling pyrite. Knowing this, you say you wish to sell me pyrite? The larger the amount on hand, the more money to be made, I simply cannot believe that you would do such a thing. Or is it that-"
Amati paused momentarily, then spoke, his eyes truly emanating a wrathful emotion: "Rumor has it that as long as you can get back the owed amount, you would not care in the least how Miss Horo ends up, could this be true?"
Amati's utterance made it instantly clear to Lawrence what Horo had said, as well as what Amati was thinking.
From Amati emanated the bold nature of a knight, somewhat irritating for Lawrence to behold. "No. To me, Horo is a very important existence," said Lawrence.
"In that case, how could-"
"Of course, I will not sell it to you so simply."
If it were an auction in which malevolent words were thrown around among opponents, perhaps Amati would be more proficient in handling the situation, but in a one-on-one business talk, Lawrence was fully confident that he did not lose to Amati.
Lawrence had grasped the pace of Amati's talk, and was controlling the conversation so as to turn the situation in his own favor.
Lawrence spoke his premeditated lines in an extremely cool voice: "I wish to sell on credit."
Possibly due to having heard an unfamiliar term, Amati asked in response: "Selling....on credit?"
"Precisely."
"What exactly is...."
"What I mean is, I wish to sell you five hundred Trenni silver coins' worth of pyrite tomorrow evening according to its current market value."
Whenever Horo bragged about her sharp sense of hearing, she would always say that she could even hear the sound produced during a frown (note: referring to the sound of the furrowing brow), and now Lawrence felt as if he were able to hear that very sound.
It was apparent, then, that Amati's expression clearly expressed how confused he was by all this. "In that case, just talk to me about this tomorrow evening..." He said.
"No, I wish to receive the payment right now." Amati's expression grew even more bewildered.
Unless Amati possessed acting skills on par with Horo's, it was clear that he had no knowledge concerning the act of selling on credit.
If a merchant lacked information, it was like going onto a battlefield blindfolded. Lawrence stretched the bowstring tight and prepared to shoot off the arrow.
"In other words, I will accept five hundred silver coins from you, Mr. Amati, here and now, and give you tomorrow evening the amount of pyrite equivalent to five hundred silver coins at this moment in time." Amati thought hard on this. On the surface, selling on credit was not a difficult concept to understand.
Not long had passed before Amati seemed to have come to an understanding about the way selling on credit worked.
"What this means is that, when tomorrow evening arrives, even if the market value of pyrite is higher than its current value, I will still be able to receive the amount of pyrite calculated according to the current value, correct?" He said.
"Precisely. For instance, if I were to sell you a piece of pyrite worth 1200 Iredo on credit, I would collect the 1200 Iredo from you right now. When tomorrow evening arrives, even if its value has risen to two thousand Iredo, I would still have to give you the piece of pyrite."
"....On the other hand, even if the value has dropped to only two hundred Iredo by tomorrow evening, I would still only be able to receive one piece of pyrite, correct?" "It is just as you said."
Amati's reaction speed was indeed quick.
Yet, Lawrence still worried whether Amati would be able to discover the meaning of this deal.
Thinking about it in a simple manner, selling on credit was no different from selling off the product on hand on the spot.
Once the product on hand had been sold, if the product's value were to increase, it would cause regret over having sold too early, and if its value were to drop, it would bring relief over having already sold it.
Yet, the difference in time between the money transaction and the product transaction was a decisive one. This difference was exactly what Lawrence wished Amati to realize.
If Amati were not able to realize this, the odds of his refusing the deal would be extremely high. Amati opened his mouth: "This really isn't any different from a regular business deal, is it?" Amati did not get it.
Lawrence controlled his vexed emotion. In order to get Amati to understand, he prepared to deliver a guiding explanation.
At that moment, Amati stopped him short. "No, there should be a difference."
Amati smiled in satisfaction. His youngster-like face transformed into that of a merchant, which responded only to profits and losses.
"You are still hoping to gain some profit from this business in which you have become involved a step late, am I right?"
It appeared that Lawrence did not need to make any further explanation.
A merchant would not make a meaningless deal. If, at a glance, a deal appeared to be meaningless, it meant that the observer lacked a full understanding.
"If buying on credit is a way of obtaining a product without the appropriate funds on hand, then this selling on credit is a way of selling a product and obtaining cash without actually having the product on hand. If buying on credit yields profit when some product on hand rises in price, then when one is selling on credit, if the value of cash were to rise, a profit would be made. In other words, a drop in the price of the item sold would bring a profit," Amati continued.
Moreover, when conducting the deal, not having the product in question on hand did not constitute a problem at all.
Because this was a deal conducted under the promise of delivering the product at a later point in time.
"Ha ha, this is something new. Being just involved in fish-related deals has rendered me ignorant of just how large the world is. You chose me as the target for this deal because. no, the reason seems obvious without anything said concerning the matter. If I purchase an additional five hundred silver coins' worth of pyrite from you, as the price rises, my profit will of course increase accordingly, but when the price drops, my losses will increase as well. When the time comes for you to earn a profit, that is also the time when I will be suffering losses."
Amati thrust out his chest, his expression full of confidence.
Lawrence, on the other hand, could feel his own face becoming completely devoid of expression. The hand pulling on the bowstring trembled tensely.
Amati continued to speak: "What this means is...."
Lawrence was a step ahead, releasing the arrow: "Mr. Amati, I am challenging you to a battle."
The corners of the fishmonger's mouth curled upward. That smile was certainly one befitting a merchant. "This cannot really count as a battle can it?"
Yet, the words that came out of the merchant's mouth were such.
"A so-called 'battle' is supposed to proceed under the condition that both sides possess equal odds, and this deal is not equal at all. I do not suppose that you, Mr. Lawrence, are saying that this selling on credit has meaning only between you and me?"
"What do you mean?"
"You do not plan to conduct the deal without signing a certificate do you? What I mean is, can this certificate be passed on to someone else?"
Except in very remote areas, deals related to debt and crediting rights were commonly conducted. Of course, certificates for selling on credit were no exception.
"If I were to propose a deal with such limited freedom, surely you would not be willing to accept? Would not the risk be too great then?" said Lawrence.
"Indeed. Even if the price of pyrite were really to drop tomorrow evening as you, Mr. Lawrence have predicted, as long as its value reaches the amount I need sometime during the day, I will sell the pyrite. If I were to be restricted from selling at that time, I would have doubts over whether or not to accept the deal. However, if you are willing to accept this point, then this would not count as a deal in which the odds are equally favorable."
Lawrence listened in silence. Amati continued to speak: "That would be too unfair to you, Mr. Lawrence, since only a slight increase in the price is required for me to reach my goal. However, in order to protect my own interests, I would also not be willing to accept a deal that is in your favor."
In other words, regardless of the conditions, Amati was not willing to accept the deal. Yet, a merchant would not simply give up on a deal over a single refusal.
Lawrence said steadily: "If you were to look only at this deal, what you have said is perhaps correct. However, if you were to widen your perspective a little, such a level of unfairness is actually just right."
"....Your meaning is.?
"What I mean is, it is quite possible for Horo to tear up the marriage certificate. You have a copy as well right?"
Amati looked at Lawrence in stupefaction.
"Even if you were to pay me the thousand silver coins' worth of debt, you still cannot avoid the risk of Horo shaking her head in refusal and consequently achieving nothing at all. Compared to the risk you face, the little bit of unfairness I face is insignificant," Lawrence continued.
Even so, a smile immediately crossed Amati's face, and he countered with a puff of his nose: "Ha! I doubt you need to worry about that. I heard the two of you had a huge fight."
Lawrence could feel the heat swelling up from his body, as if his back had been punctured by a red-hot iron rod. Even so, he summoned up all his strength and experience as a merchant, counterattacking before the churning emotions could show up on his face: "During our travels, Horo has cried three times in my arms."
Lawrence having said this, Amati became the first to show emotion on his face.
Amati's face, which was carrying a faint smile, froze on the spot. Slowly, he began making the sound of long and thin, deep breaths.
"Although Horo is very cute when she is crying, it is a shame that her personality is so stubborn and unyielding. She often takes actions that are contrary to her true feelings. In other words-"
"I accept the deal!"
Amati forcefully cut off Lawrence's speech, his expression like that of a knight who had accepted a challenge.
"I accept your proposed deal!" "Is that really alright?"
"Say no more, I accept! I was... I was worrying that if I were to take away everything from you, that would be overly harsh, hence what I said before. However, since you yourself have pushed so hard, I accept. In fact, I will also take away your fortune and everything you have."
Amati's face was crimson with fury.
How could Lawrence not smile at such a time?
Lawrence revealed a smile like that of a hunter reaching into his trap to pick up his captive prey, then reached out his right hand and said: "Do you wish to accept the deal?" "Do not doubt it!"
The hands that clutched each other tightly were each a hand intending to steal away the other's treasure. "Then let us proceed to signing the contract right away."
Yet, Lawrence judged with a cool head and concluded thus.
With regard to the present place and time of this deal, it could be said that both parties were on equal terms. Perhaps it would even be appropriate to say that Amati was at a slight disadvantage.
Had Amati realized this? No, it was most likely because he had not noticed that he was willing to accept the deal.
However, even if Amati were to realize it now, it would already be too late.
The two borrowed pen and paper from the barkeeper, and signed the contract then and there.
However, because Amati had trouble producing five hundred silver coins in cash, Lawrence agreed to let him substitute the remaining two hundred silver coins he lacked with the three horses he had in possession. The two arranged to have the cash payment take place at the toll of the bell signaling the opening of the marketplace the following morning, and the payment of horses in the evening.
If the information supplied by Horo was reliable, Amati should have two hundred silver coins in cash, a supply of pyrite worth three hundred silver coins, along with two hundred silver coins' worth of re-sellable property.
Although, doing a comparison now, the amount of cash Amati had on hand was a hundred silver coins greater, the fact that he used three horses to replace the two hundred silver coins he lacked probably indicated that these three horses constituted the re-sellable property he possessed.
That being the case, Amati possessed the equivalent of eight hundred silver coins' worth of pyrite. This meant that if the price of pyrite were to increase by an additional 25 percent, he would be able to gather one thousand silver coins. If the actual sum were greater than what was indicated by Horo's information, then an even lesser increase would be sufficient.
Even so, Lawrence did not feel that he was at a disadvantage.
"Let us settle this tomorrow evening then,"
Amati lifted his head and uttered excitedly as the seal was stamped. Lawrence gave a sturdy nod in response.
Lawrence's mention of Horo crying in his arms seemed to have a great effect.
It seemed that a merchant would become useless the moment he became involved with things unrelated to business.
"I shall take my leave then, and disturb you no further in your enjoyment of wine," Lawrence said after completing the contract, and left the bar.
The arrow Lawrence shot out had scored a direct hit on Amati's heart. Although Lawrence felt that Amati himself must have realized that he had been struck, there was one other thing that Lawrence had purposely failed to mention.
And that was the fact that this arrowhead had been painted with a slow-acting poison familiar only to people knowledgeable about deals involving selling on credit.
Merchants did their hunting between the lines of honesty and deceit. There was no need at all to explain everything.
Because all merchants were naturally insidious.
After signing the selling pyrite on credit contract with Amati, Lawrence proceeded directly to the marketplace.
Though it was already long past working hours, the marketplace atmosphere was as bustling as it had been during the day. Merchants held feasts under the lighting of the moon, and even the night guards became involved in the endless commotion.
Upon arriving at Mark's stand, Lawrence discovered that Mark was there after all, and not at home.
Mark was not drinking with anyone, but simply drank alone, accompanied only by the bustling atmosphere. The sight revealed the fact that he was once a traveling merchant.
"Hmm? What's the matter? Don't you need to keep the princess company?"
Mark spoke thus upon perceiving Lawrence's approach. Lawrence shrugged his shoulders, revealing a strained smile.
With a smile, Mark said, "Have a drink first," and poured some beer from a clay bottle into a beer mug. "Am I disturbing you?" asked Lawrence.
"Haha. You would be if you continue to remain sober. You won't be if you're drunk."
After sitting down in the chair consisting of a sawed-short log, Lawrence set down the gunnysack containing gold and silver coins, and began drinking the beer Mark had poured out for him. As he held a mouthful of froth-filled beer in his mouth, the sweet taste spread out instantly, and the numbing, bitter taste trickled down his throat.
This was an indication that the hops (note: the dried ripe cones of the female flowers of this plant, used in brewing, medicine, etc.) within the beer had taken effect.
As expected of a wheat merchant, distinguishing between good and bad beer seemed no trouble to him either.
"This is good beer," said Lawrence.
"That's because the harvest this year has been good for all types of wheat. During times when the harvest is bad, even the barley used to make beer would be used to make bread instead, so we have to be thankful to the god of harvest."
"Haha, indeed. However..."
Lawrence said as he set the beer mug on the discussion table.
"There's something I want to tell you, although this may not be the ideal topic for livening up a feast." "Aye...geh. Is it something good for making money?"
"No, it's hard to say. Depending on how things develop, perhaps a profit could be made, but that's not my aim."
Mark picked up a piece of salted fish and delivered it into his mouth, opening his mouth to speak as he continued chewing, making a crunching sound as he chewed on the salt: "Aren't you being a bit too honest? You should've said it's profiting, then I'd be more than happy to help you out."
"Of course I'll be paying you a service fee. Moreover, depending on the way things develop, perhaps it'll bring you a profit."
"How so?"
Lawrence wiped away the froth stuck to the corners of his mouth, then opened his mouth and spoke: "When the festival is over, all the wheat will be gathered up to be bought and sold right?"
"That's right."
"When that time comes, I want you to help me spread a rumor."
Mark revealed the kind of expression one would show when determining the quality of flour. "I'm not going to do anything dangerous," he said.
"If you were to say it yourself, that might be dangerous, but if the boy were to say it, it shouldn't be a problem then right?"
In fact, Lawrence only wished to spread a little rumor. However, rumors possessed a fearsome power.
It was said that long ago, there was a large country that walked onto the path of destruction merely because a young man from some town had said that the king seemed to have fallen ill. The young man's words were passed around, eventually spreading to various neighboring countries, finally resulting in a disintegration of alliances, and the invasion and cutting up of the large country's lands.
The number of conversation topics people had was in fact quite limited.
And their ears existed for the exact purpose of listening to such little rumors in order to spread them about wantonly.
Mark thrust out his chin, beckoning Lawrence to continue.
"When I give the signal, I wish someone to help me say at a certain place-that it's about time for the price of wheat to be rising."
The instant Mark heard this, his movements ceased, as if time had frozen, and his gaze was directed at some far-off place. Mark was contemplating the implications of Lawrence's words.
Soon after, Mark revealed an incredulous smile, and pulled his eyes back into focus. "You intend to purposely lower the price of that mineral?"
"That's about right."
Lawrence guessed that those who bought and sold pyrite were mostly people who had come to town to sell off their merchandise and purchase some products to take with them as they left.
As these people left, the product they purchased the most of was certainly wheat.
When wheat was gathered to be sold and purchased, if there was word that the price of wheat would be rising, everyone would surely sell off the pyrite they had bought to make some additional money, and immediately purchase what they had originally set as their target merchandise.
In such a situation, the price of pyrite would no doubt begin to drop.
Moreover, once the price began to drop, as soon as a certain critical point was reached, it would nosedive the rest of the way.
The wheat merchant took a big gulp of beer before saying coolly: "I didn't expect you to be such a simple-minded person."
"If I were to tell you I was planning to simultaneously sell off a considerable-sum's worth of pyrite, would you still think so?"
Mark's eyelid twitched once. After pondering this for a moment, he asked Lawrence the question: "How much?"
"One thousand Trenni silver coins."
"Wha....one thousand? Are you a fool? Do you have any idea how much loss you would cause by doing that?"
"No matter how much the price falls, it doesn't matter to me."
Mark revealed an infinitely bitter expression, stroking his chin repeatedly and causing a rustling of his beard. His gaze drifted back and forth, and a groan came from his mouth. From his appearance, it seemed that he could not understand what Lawrence was thinking.
"As long as I can manage to buy another five hundred silver coins' worth of pyrite, whether its price rises or falls in the end, my money pouch would be unaffected."
It was Amati who was at a disadvantage in the deal proposed by Lawrence. The reason was precisely this.
"Damn, selling by credit huh," said Mark.
If the price of the product on hand were to rise, of course one's money pouch would be unhurt, but the special case in which even a drop in the price would not hurt one's money pouch was rare.
If the price of the product sold were to fall, all that needed to be done was to re-purchase the product at the lowered rate and hand it to the other party. If, on the other hand, the price of the product on hand were to rise, it would bring a direct profit; as long as the selling on credit of the former was paired with the regular deal of the latter, a situation would be created in which Lawrence's money would neither increase nor decrease whether the value of pyrite rose or dropped.
Moreover, Lawrence's most decisive advantage lay in the fact that once the product was sold in bulk quantities, its price would inevitably fall, plus the fact that Amati had to get the price of pyrite to rise because he needed to gain a profit no matter what.
In other words, Lawrence's plan was to use the five hundred silver coins collected from Amati by selling on credit, along with the rest of the cash he had on hand to go around buying pyrite, and then sell off the pyrite all at once in order to cause a great crash in its price.
It was possible to do such a thing as soon as one was able to throw away the idea of profit. As a former traveling merchant, Mark immediately detected Lawrence's plan.
Of course, he also detected who Lawrence's opponent was.
"The poor fishmonger who's been tricked out of ignorance sure stirs one's sympathies." Lawrence's shrugged his shoulders in response to Mark.
Yet, the plan which at a glance appeared to hold such a great advantage also had one point that unsettled Lawrence.
There was truly no such thing as a perfect plan in this world.
"That guy seems like he should be aware of just how dangerous it is to participate in an unfamiliar deal though," said Mark.
"Aye, he should be aware of the risks, yet he still accepted the deal. I wouldn't have failed to remind him of even this."
Mark uttered a light laugh from his throat, then finished the remaining beer and said with a change in expression: "So, is that all you wanted to ask of me?" "There's one other thing."
"Go on."
"Help me seek out and buy pyrite."
Hearing this, Mark simply stared at Lawrence with a look of unexpectedness. "You signed the deal without first getting a hold on the pyrite sources?" he asked. "Unfortunately, I don't have that much time. Can you help me?"
This was the reason why Lawrence could not steady his mind.
No matter how perfect the plan, nothing could be done unless all of the necessary conditions were met. Moreover, the condition that Lawrence lacked was very difficult to come by.
Of course, Lawrence could also wait till daybreak to purchase pyrite in the marketplace. However, if he were to buy several hundred silver coins' worth of pyrite in the marketplace, a sudden jump in the price of pyrite would inevitably result.
Lawrence needed to work in the shadows, and purchase pyrite in a manner that would not affects its market value.
In order to achieve this end, the best way was to gather a large quantity of pyrite by making a number of small purchases through the connections of town merchants.
"The payment condition is cash only. Price doesn't matter, even if it's above the market value. If the quantity is relatively large, the price can be paid directly in Rumiones," said Lawrence.
If a Trenni silver coin were a sharp sword, then a Rumione gold coin would be the equivalent of a forest of spears lined up densely beside one another. When purchasing a high-value product, the Rumione gold coin could be said to be the most powerful weapon in the world.
Yet, although Lawrence possessed cash, he did not have connections, and besides Mark, he did not have any friends to help him.
If Mark were to refuse him, Lawrence would have to rely on his own strength to gather the pyrite.
In this town to which he only came a few days each year to do business, it was only imaginable just how difficult it would be for Lawrence to gather a large quantity of pyrite in a proper manner.
Yet, Mark simply gazed in some unknown direction, his body completely motionless. "I'll repay my gratitude. It won't be a small sum either."
What Lawrence meant was that he would not be paying only a service charge. Hearing this, Mark glanced at Lawrence momentarily.
Mark was, after all, a merchant. It was only natural that he would not be willing to do fruitless labor. And then, Mark said briefly: "Can't do it."
"Alright, then...huh?"
"Can't do it."
This time Mark was looking Lawrence in the eye as he said this. "Wha-"
"I can't help you on this one,"
Mark said in completely serious expression and tone. Lawrence extended his body forward and said with emphasis: "I'll thank you for it. I won't be so stingy as to only pay you a service charge. You won't have anything to lose. The condition is pretty good isn't it?"
"Won't have anything to lose?"
With his beard trimmed so that his face appeared square-shaped, the moment he frowned, Mark's face became like a solid piece of rock.
"Isn't it so? I'm asking you to help me look for and buy pyrite, not to make any sort of investment. Besides, you'll be paying in cash. What could you possibly have to lose?"
"Lawrence."
Mark's utterance was more powerful than any kind of stop signal in cutting off Lawrence's words.
Yet, Lawrence could not figure out what was going through Mark's head. It was impossible for a merchant to refuse when met with a deal that promised a reasonable reward and involved absolutely no risk.
Why then did Mark say he couldn't do it?
Could it be that Mark only saw Lawrence for his flaws? Having thought to this point, an emotion nearing wrathful suspicion boiled up within Lawrence's heart.
At that moment, Mark continued to speak: "The sum you can pay me is what, ten Rumione at best?"
"Considering it's just making some purchases for me, such a reward is more than sufficient isn't it? It's not like I'm asking you to take up the burden of an entire business team's purchases, and to scale mountains and return within a day."
"What you mean is that you want me to go throughout the marketplace to help you look for and buy pyrite right? That's the same thing."
"Just how exactly....!"
The log-made chair in which Lawrence was seated fell over on the ground with a knock. Lawrence extended himself in a frightening manner, and was a step away from seizing mark when he regained his composure.
Yet, Mark was not moved in the least.
The merchant's expression that Mark wore on his face did not change one bit.
"Erh....just how exactly are they the same thing? I'm not asking you to spend the entire night going back and forth in the marketplace, carry around heavy merchandise, much less head toward some precipitous mountain path where you might be exposed to danger or accidents. All I'm saying is I wish you to help me buy some pyrite through your connections."
"What I mean is that they're the same thing, Lawrence," Mark said slowly.
"You're a traveling merchant who comes and goes in the wilderness, and I'm a merchant whose battlefield is this marketplace. The dangers you perceive are all those which a traveling merchant would meet with."
"Ah...."
Lawrence swallowed back the sound, and Mark also furrowed his brows deeply as if he had swallowed something bitter.
"From a town merchant's perspective, showing no hesitation in jumping on the first available opportunity to make money certainly cannot be called a virtue. Compared to making big money through side jobs, making an honest living through one's main business is what defines a truly prestigious town merchant. Although I'm the owner of this vending stand, the reputation this stand involves is not just my own name. This vending stand is connected with the reputations of myself, my wife, all of my blood relations, as well as all of those who have dealings here. If it's just making a bit of side profit, even if the source is unclear, it's certainly not a bad thing to act as quickly as possible..."
Having said to this point, Mark poured some more beer into his mug and drank a mouthful. Although his brows were still deeply locked, it was probably not due to the beer being too bitter.
"...but helping you look for and purchase the five hundred silver coins' worth of pyrite you seek is another matter entirely. How do you think the people around me would view me? Surely they would think of me as a good-for-nothing whose heart isn't with his main business and who seeks to become rich through ill-gotten gains. Are you capable of paying me a sum proportional to such a risk? Because I used to be a traveling merchant myself, I daresay the amount of money a town merchant regularly handles is such that a traveling merchant who only makes small sums cannot begin to compare with."
Lawrence could not make any sort of dispute, and was completely speechless. Mark threw out the final statement: "This shop of mine may appear small, but its name (note: literally the shop's signboard. In Chinese culture, a shop's sign is often equated with its name/reputation in a metaphorical sense. Hence, sign and name can be used interchangeably) possesses a surprisingly high value. If the name were to be damaged, the amount needed to repair the damage would go well beyond ten or twenty gold coins."
The decisive statement.
Lawrence could not utter a word, and his gaze dropped to the table surface. "That's how it is."
Mark did not see Lawrence only for his flaws, nor was it his intention to make Lawrence unhappy. What Mark had said was exactly right.
But then, this just led Lawrence to understand more clearly that although they were both merchants, he and Mark lived in totally different worlds. "I'm sorry."
Even hearing this from Mark, Lawrence could not find any words with which to respond.
The number of people remaining whom Lawrence could go to for help could easily be counted on five fingers.
"No...it's alright, sorry for causing such awkwardness," he responded.
If there was anyone left to turn to, the only one Lawrence could think of was Bartose.
Since it was already certain that he would not be receiving any assistance from Mark, Lawrence could only place all of his hopes on Bartose.
Yet, Lawrence recalled that when Bartose was hinting him about Amati's method of gathering money, he had mentioned that Amati was employing not-so-proper means.
To Bartose, who carried heavy rocks while traversing precipitous mountain paths, receiving pyrite in one hand and immediately selling it off from the other hand for immense profits was surely a disgraceful act.
Having though to this point, Lawrence could not help thinking that the chances of Bartose helping him were quite small, but he had no choice but to set aside his doubts and try paying him a visit.
Lawrence made up his mind, made an exertion with his chest and lifted his head. The moment he lifted his head, Mark spoke: "So even someone as laid-back as you can get like this huh?"
Mark's look was neither incredulous nor mocking. He simply spoke with a slightly surprised expression. "Ah, sorry, don't get mad. I'm just a bit surprised."
Seeing Mark hurrying to explain, Lawrence was of course not angered. Even Lawrence himself felt somewhat surprised.
"Although, encountering a companion like yours, no wonder you'd become like this. Even if you don't put so much effort into trying to stop Amati, your companion wouldn't submit to him so easily would she? Even someone like me who's only seen her standing beside you once thinks so, so have a bit of confidence."
At this point, Mark finally revealed a smile. Lawrence, on the other hand, was expressionless as he replied: "She's handed me a signed marriage certificate. The other party is Amati of course."
Mark's eyes widened, then began stroking his chin so that his beard rustled, looking as if he had accidentally stepped on a landmine (note: not that there would have been landmines during that period, but that's the word the book uses, so that's how I translated it).
Seeing Mark's appearance, Lawrence involuntarily loosened the strength in his shoulders.
"If nothing had happened, I would of course be confident. But, something really happened...," he said. "It happened after you came here and went back? A single step's difference in life can be hell....even so, you still need to have hope, and that's why you're working so hard trying to come up with a solution, right?" Perceiving a nod from Lawrence in response, Mark thrust his chin out, then said with a sigh: "Though I can tell that companion of yours is no simple character, I didn't think she'd do something so bold..is there anyone else you can find to help you?"
"Well, I'll try asking Mr. Bartose for starters."
"Mr. Bartose huh. I see. You intend to have him ask that woman for you?" Hearing Mark say this in a low voice, Lawrence asked in turn: "....That woman?"
"Huh? You're not planning on having him ask that woman for you? You know, the chronicler. Didn't you meet her already?"
"If you're referring to Miss Deanna, I have met her already, but I don't quite understand what you're getting at."
"If you don't mind the trouble it might cause you later on, I think you can try consulting with that woman." "What exactly are you saying?"
Lawrence asked. After looking about for a moment, Mark lowered his voice a bit and spoke: "That woman is someone who has control over the northern regions. She can even be said to be the window of correspondence among the alchemists. From our point of view, it's all because of the presence of that woman that the alchemists, who are vulnerable to attack for various reasons, are able to gather in one spot. Of course, the truth could only be known by the town's aristocrats and the elders of the town council. And also..."
Mark took a drink of his beer and continued: "Any citizen here would immediately think, 'The alchemists should all possess pyrite.' However, in order not to stir up any trouble and be able to do business in peace, it's necessary not to associate with those people. For Mr. Bartose, it's also because he has dealings with the alchemists that he rarely does business with anyone else. Although, it's probably more appropriate to say he can't do business with anyone else. If you're not afraid of causing trouble for yourself, having Mr. Bartose ask that woman for you is also a possible solution."
Faced with the sudden revelation, Lawrence could not immediately tell whether it was true or not, but he figured that Mark had nothing to gain from lying.
"Depending on the situation, it may be worth a try. Aren't the flames already burning quite close to you (note: in case the meaning didn't quite get through, "Isn't your situation already pretty desperate?")?" said Mark.
Although Lawrence felt pretty useless, he could not deny that Mark's surprising refusal had caused his situation to become rather dangerous.
"I'm truly happy that you'd come to me for help here. But, all I can do is give you suggestions." "No, you've already done a great deal for me. I almost missed such a big opportunity."
Besides, Lawrence himself felt that Mark's reason for refusing him was completely justified.
Mark was a town merchant, and Lawrence was a traveling merchant. When the standpoints were different, there would naturally be a great difference between the things that could and could not be done.
"It might be strange for someone who just refused to help you to say this...but, I will pray for your success," said Mark.
This time it was Lawrence who revealed a smile.
"You've given me a good lesson. That in itself is worthwhile,"
Lawrence said without the slightest bit of sarcasm or hidden intentions. In the future when Lawrence was to have dealings with town merchants, he would be sure to take this day's experience into consideration. Lawrence was not lying in saying that he had learned a lesson.
Yet, having heard Lawrence's words, Mark began stroking his chin back and forth so that his beard made rustling sounds.
Then, Mark furrowed his brow deeply and looked off in another direction as he said: "I may not be able to take action openly, but if it's just whispering the amount of money someone has in his money pouch, that wouldn't really be any trouble."
Perceiving Lawrence's surprised expression, Mark closed his eyes as he continued to speak: "Come back over later. I'll tell you whom you can buy stuff from. I can do this much for you at least." "....Thank you."
Seeing Lawrence utter this from the bottom of his heart, Mark suddenly burst into laughter, as if he had given up something.
"Seeing that expression on your face, I say it's no wonder the little miss would do something so bold," he said.
"....What do you mean?"
"Nothing. A merchant need only focus on how to do business."
Even though Lawrence was tempted to ask the laughing Mark to clarify, his mind had long since drifted toward Bartose and Deanna.
"Anyway, good luck," said Mark. "Ah...oh."
Although Lawrence still felt a knot in his heart, he also felt that there was no time to lose, and it was better to begin negotiations as soon as possible.
Lawrence expressed a brief thanks to Mark, and left the vending stand.
However, as he walked along, Lawrence thought to himself: perhaps the common saying that traveling merchants could not make any friends was wrong.
First, Lawrence headed directly to the foreign firm.
He had two goals. The first was to inquire of Bartose whether he had a stock of pyrite, and whether he had any other connections he could introduce to Lawrence. The other was to request Bartose to take him to see Deanna once more.
Yet, Lawrence remembered Bartose had said that Amati's means of buying and selling pyrite was not entirely decent.
Bartose was a merchant who carried precious stones and metals from the mining regions through dangerous paths. Perhaps in his eyes, such opportunistic pyrite dealing was a disgraceful act.
Even so, even though he knew he was really pushing it, Lawrence still had to pay Bartose a visit. Lawrence completely disregarded the festival, which had continued into late night and whose atmosphere bordered on riotous, making his way through small alleys as he headed toward the foreign firm.
When Lawrence had finally arrived at the main street before the firm, densely lined with buildings on each side, he saw that each foreign firm had lighted lanterns, and large groups of people were dancing in circular formations. Every now and then he would see people from the firms, long sword in hand and practicing with one another in unseasoned manner. This kind of party activity was perhaps an extension of the festival itself.
Lawrence approached the Rowen Business Guild building, pushing his way through the crowded street. He slipped right into the building without greeting the guild members who were gathered near the wide-open front door, drinking.
Those who wanted to drink and relax within the building, and those who wanted to revel outside the building seemed to have clearly demarcated their own separate territories. Under the lighting of the suspended fish oil lamps, which gave off a unique scent, the entire main hall was suffused with soft chatting and laughter.
Though a few people in the hall noticed Lawrence and shot him curious glances, the greater majority seemed completely wrapped up within the joyous feasting atmosphere.
Among these people, Lawrence located his target person, then approached the man.
The man was seated at a table where a group of older merchants were gathered. Under the dim lighting of the lamps, he appeared very much like a hermit.
The man was Guy Bartose.
"I'm terribly sorry to interrupt your drinking,"
Lawrence said in a voice even lower than the surrounding chitchat. The seasoned merchants seemed to perceive at once the purpose of Lawrence's visit.
Each person continued to drink quietly, giving Bartose a brief glance. The watched Bartose revealed a warm smile and spoke: "Hey, Mr. Lawrence, what can I do for you?"
"Sorry for thus intruding, but there is something I wish to discuss with you." "Is it something to do with business?"
Lawrence hesitated for a moment, and nodded his head.
"Then let's talk over there. We couldn't possibly allow others to overhear an opportunity to get rich now could we?"
The other merchants at the table laughed, raising their mugs slightly as if to say, "We'll continue to drink happily in your absence."
Lawrence nodded his head lightly and caught up with Bartose, who was already moving further into the firm.
As a contrast to the main hall, suffused with the scent of liquor and sounds of talk and laughter, proceeding further along the corridor within the firm, the surrounding atmosphere became akin to that of the alleys. In the turn of an eye, the two had come to an unlighted spot, and the clamor became as remote as a fire on the opposite shore.
At that moment, Bartose stopped in his tracks, turning around to speak: "What's the matter?"
Lawrence figured that beating around the bush would not get him anywhere, so he cut straight to the point: "Yes. To be honest, I wish to purchase some pyrite, and am currently searching for someone with a large stockpile. Mr. Bartose, I'm sure you must have connections."
"Pyrite?" "Yes."
Bartose's dark blue, almost black eyes appeared gray under the red lighting with a faint trace of yellow. And such a pair of eyes was gazing directly at Lawrence.
"Do you have any connections?"
Hearing Lawrence repeat his question, Bartose gave a sigh, and rubbed his eyes as he spoke: "Mr. Lawrence."
"Yes."
"Don't you remember what I said when I was hinting you on Amati's means of gathering money?" Lawrence immediately nodded his head. Of course he remembered.
"Not only do I remember what you said, I also remember that Miss Deanna seems to dislike people discussing business with her," he said.
Bartose pulled his hand away from the corner of his eye and let it remain suspended in midair. At that moment, he finally showed a merchant-like gaze.
It was a gaze that belonged to a traveling merchant devoted to a business full of hardships, who cared not for the means of making more money, but only how to transport goods safely.
Perhaps it was his mind playing games with him, but Lawrence felt that such a gaze was similar to a wolf's. "You have your mind set on the alchemists' stockpile?" asked Bartose.
"You certainly are easy to communicate with. However, I heard they are not allowed to conduct business without obtaining Miss Deanna's permission. Therefore, I wish to seek your help."
Lawrence recalled the days when he had first become a traveling merchant, when, needing to increase his customers but having no connections, he would give visits without notice and negotiate forcefully.
Bartose widened his eyes, somewhat surprised, then with some difficulty squeezed out his voice to say: "Knowing that much, you still wish to deal with them. Could it be because pyrite is really that profiting?" "No, it's not like that."
"Then...it's because of what's been said in the rumors, you wish to know your fortune, or use it to cure illnesses?"
Bartose smiled as he said this, in a way that seemed as if he were playing around with his grandson. This was probably Bartose's unique way of poking fun of someone.
Even so, Lawrence of course did not get angry, nor did he get impatient.
For the sake of his own profit, a merchant wouldn't hesitate even to spend an entire night doing nothing but staring at a slowly-swinging scale.
"I am taking action for the sake of my own benefit. I do not plan to deny the fact," said Lawrence. Bartose's body did not make the slightest movement. He simply stared, wide-eyed.
If Lawrence were to meet with refusal from Bartose here, it was extremely likely that his hopes of gathering a stockpile of pyrite would vanish.
The current Lawrence was not so leisurely as to be able to allow such a thing to happen.
"However, I do not intend to make a profit out of the value of pyrite that is growing uncontrollably like swelling bubbles. I am working for a..a more basic purpose."
Bartose did not interrupt him to speak. Lawrence took this as a signal beckoning him to continue speaking, and so he continued: "Mr. Bartose, you are also a traveling merchant after all, so you have probably had numerous experiences in which the goods carried upon your shoulders almost fell into a deep gorge?"
Bartose remained silent.
"When our horse-drawn cart sinks into mud and cannot budge, we weigh the choices of abandoning the cart and doing whatever it takes to pull the cart out of the mud on a scale. The value of the merchandise on board, profit, the amount of cash on hand, the route of travel, along with the sum needed to pay for someone's help. Also, the danger of encountering bandits that may result from lingering around in panic and despair. We take such things into account when deciding whether or not to abandon our cargo."
Bartose opened his mouth slowly and spoke: "You mean to say that you're in such a situation?" "It is so."
Bartose's eyes looked as if they could clearly see what lay ahead even on a poorly-lit road.
He had been traveling along the same route for decades, and sought out Deanna to hear about ancient legends in order to make up for the things he could not see along that route.
Under such a gaze, a merchant's lies would undoubtedly be seen through immediately. Yet, Lawrence did not back down.
Because he was not telling a lie.
"I do not wish to abandon my cargo. As long as I can load the cargo back into the cart, I don't care about the trouble it might cause."
Surely it was impossible for Bartose not to have realized what the cargo was that Lawrence was referring to, as well as the situation he was in.
Even so, Bartose still closed his eyes slowly and remained silent.
Was there something that should be said? Should he take advantage of the moment and push further? The talk and laughter that came from the main hall behind the two men sounded mocking.
The limited amount of time was slipping away little by little. Lawrence prepared to speak.
Then, at the very last moment, he changed his mind.
Lawrence remembered his master had said that the golden rule when begging someone's favor was to wait. "That was exactly the response I was waiting for,"
Bartose said with a light smile at the moment Lawrence recalled his master's words.
"Because even when time is limited, if there are no alternatives, all that can be done is to wait patiently. That is how a truly prosperous merchant acts."
The moment Lawrence discovered that he had just been put through a test, he felt a large amount of cold perspiration pour forth from his back.
"On the other hand, back when I was in a similar situation, my attitude was even tougher than yours," Bartose continued.
"Erh...."
"Oh, I don't have any pyrite on hand. However, I do believe the alchemists do." "Then...."
Bartose nodded lightly and spoke: "All you have to say is, 'I've come to buy a crate of white feathers.' What happens after that all depends on your own effort. Please think of a good way to persuade big sis. I don't think anyone has gone there to purchase pyrite yet."
"Thank you. I will be sure to repay-"
"As long as you can share an ancient legend with me, that would be good enough. How's that? Do I sound as impressive as big sis saying this?"
Bartose revealed a childlike smile, and Lawrence could not help but laugh.
"With someone like big sis, you never really know when she goes to sleep, so it should be fine for you to go and see her now. If you're going to go, you'd better go soon, because time is money,"
Bartose pointed to the back of the firm as he said this.
"If you take the back door, you can leave without having to speak to anyone."
After expressing his thanks, Lawrence proceeded down the corridor. Looking back on the way, he saw Bartose, still wearing a smile.
The form of Bartose, with his back to the light of the main hall, looked a bit like his master's.
Not long after leaving the foreign firm and sprinting north, Lawrence arrived at the stone wall.
Because he had not been fortunate enough to arrive directly at the entrance to the stone wall, Lawrence ran along the wall until he finally located it and, prying open the somewhat broken gate latch with considerable force, slipped through.
There were, of course, no lights in the area. However, his eyes gradually became accustomed to the dark as he ran. Besides, to a traveling merchant, who frequently camped out in the wilderness, a bit of darkness was no big deal.
It was just that, within the darkness of night, the bits of light that suddenly shot out from the cracks beneath the crooked doorframes, or the cat cries and beating of bird wings that came from unknown sources all caused the hair to stand on one's back, and were much more unsettling than during the day.
As long as he had visited a place once, he would be able to locate its position from any starting point. If he did not possess this unique ability of traveling merchants, perhaps Lawrence would be running away in fear due to getting lost.
After finally arriving before the door to Deanna's home, Lawrence felt himself loosen up tangibly. The feeling was akin to the sense of relief one would get upon arriving before a familiar woodcutter's residence after passing through a forest of forboding atmosphere.
Yet on the other side of the door before his eyes did not dwell a close friend willing to unconditionally welcome his visit.
Although he had obtained the secret password from Bartose, reflecting upon past interactions with Deanna, Lawrence could not help but feel that she truly hated any mention of business.
Would he really be able to purchase pyrite so smoothly?
A sense of anxiety grew little by little within his heart. Lawrence quickly took a deep breath, pushing all his feelings of insecurity down toward his belly.
He must succeed in the purchase.
Because he wished to continue traveling with Horo in the future. "Is anyone home?"
Lawrence intentionally lowered his voice and inquired after knocking lightly on the door.
The silence of someone choosing to remain quiet had a perceivably different quality from the silence that resulted from absence.
When the air was suffused with a sense of the former kind of silence, one would always avoid making any kind of sound.
Yet, there was no response at all on the other side of the door.
Because some light could be seen peering forth from the crack under the door, Deanna was probably at home.
Though, according to town law, those who went to sleep without extinguishing their lights would face serious punishment, it was quite unlikely that anyone would dare to venture as far as to patrol in this area.
Just as Lawrence raised his hand to knock once more, he noticed that there seemed to be movement within. "Who is it?"
The voice that came from the other side carried a hint of sleepiness, sounding somewhat lazy.
"Sorry to disturb you at such an hour. I am Lawrence, the one who came with Mr. Bartose to visit you yesterday."
It was only a little while after Lawrence had announced his name that a rustling of clothes was heard on the other side, followed by a gradual opening of the door.
As soon as the door was open, the light poured forth from within, along with the air inside Deanna's home. Deanna's eyes looked somewhat displeased, and carried signs of sleepiness as well.
Like when Lawrence had visited her the day before, she was dressed in a long robe. Because Deanna used to be a nun, it was quite likely that she was so dressed throughout the year regardless of time, so it was impossible for Lawrence to tell whether or not she had been asleep a moment ago.
Putting aside whether or not she had been asleep, it was extremely impolite behavior to visit a woman living alone in the middle of the night to begin with. Although Lawrence was fully aware of his impoliteness, he did not flinch as he opened his mouth to speak: "I know this is very impolite of me, but I simply had to see you." Lawrence continued: "I've come to buy a crate of white feathers."
The instant Lawrence uttered the password provided by Bartose, Deanna narrowed her eyes, then moved aside silently and urged with her hand for him to hurry inside.
The interior of Deanna's home, which was free of the scent of sulfur, appeared even messier than during the day before.
The books on the shelf which had retained a trace of organization were almost all taken down. One of these lay open, facing the ceiling in such a messy state.
Moreover, there was an even greater number of huge feather pens scattered all over the floor.
The beautiful, almost brand new white feathers scattered on the floor gave off an air that bordered on uncanny.
"How very peculiar, to have several guests come to visit within a single day. The festival indeed brings to this place an unusual popularity,"
Deanna said to herself as she sat down in a chair within the messy environment, not inviting Lawrence to sit down as usual.
Lawrence was just about to sit down in a chair with nothing piled upon it when he suddenly realized something.
Several visitors in a row had paid visits?
That meant that someone had already been here before Lawrence's arrival.
"So, I'm assuming it was Mr. Bartose who told you the phrase, 'come to buy a crate of white feathers?'" Lawrence, who was wondering anxiously about the intent of the previous guest's visit, snapped back to reality and said with a nod: "Y..yes. I begged him stubbornly to meet with you, Miss Deanna."
"Oh, is that so? I don't think he's the type of person that would agree to someone's request simply because of stubborn begging."
Seeing Deanna utter this with a cheerful laugh, Lawrence was unable to say any more.
Although the nature was different, speaking with Deanna gave Lawrence a feeling similar to that when he was dealing with Horo.
"What kind of business is so important that you'd go as far as to persuade that old stubborn mule?" asked Deanna.
A great number of people with various standpoints desired to obtain the potions created by the alchemists or the skills they possessed for all sorts of different reasons.
Deanna's existence was surely like a dam preventing such desires from getting out of control.
Although Lawrence did not know what reason Deanna had for doing this, from his point of view, Deanna, who had been gazing straight at him ever since she sat down, was just like a huge bird guarding her eggs with iron feathers.
"I wish to obtain your permission to buy pyrite,"
Lawrence replied, even though he was nearly overcome by Deanna's imposing manner. Deanna stroked her face with her fair-skinned hand as she said: "I heard the price has been rising." "But-"
"Of course, I understand Mr. Bartose would never have provided his help over a simple profiting business, so there's some other reason isn't there?"
Lawrence felt like Deanna was a step ahead in everything. Deanna's reaction was always a bit faster than Lawrence's, and Deanna fully intended to show off her advantage.
Even so, Lawrence told himself not to get upset. Deanna must be testing him.
Lawrence nodded and replied: "It's not because of business, but in order to settle a battle that I need pyrite." "A battle with whom?"
"It is..."
Lawrence hesitated over whether or not to mention Amati, but not because he felt it inappropriate to bring up Amati's name.
Lawrence was considering whether the opponent he was battling against was really Amati.
Amati was merely the river surrounding and guarding a fortress. There was more that needed to be conquered within the fortress.
Lawrence answered a "No," and said as he shifted his gaze toward Deanna once more: "It is the cargo."
"Cargo?"
"Regardless of time, a traveling merchant's enemy is always his own cargo. Estimating the value of the cargo, making careful plans about how to transport the cargo, and then carefully considering whom to deliver it to. If an error in judgment occurs in even one of these steps, a traveling merchant will lose. Right now I am struggling to load a piece of cargo that has fallen off my cart back into it. Because after re-evaluating the value, means of transport and target of delivery, the conclusion I have reached is that I absolutely cannot afford to allow this piece of cargo to fall from my cart."
Deanna's fringe (note: not sure if I'm using the correct terminology here. What I'm referring to is the hair that comes down from the top and partially or completely covers a woman's forehead) was blown aside slightly, and for a moment Lawrence thought a wave of wind had swept across.
It was not the wind, however, but air exhaled from Deanna's lips. After smiling lightly, Deanna picked up a feather pen beside her foot.
"'Buying a crate of white feathers' is just an exaggerated password. What it really means is that it's alright as long as I'm able to receive a bit of pleasure. Doesn't a bird drop feathers when it beats its wings in excitement? Besides, the people I give the password to pick and choose my visitors carefully for me, so I simply observe the little details of my guests. I don't suppose it would be a problem, so I'll make an exception and allow you to buy pyrite."
Hearing this, Lawrence involuntarily stood up from his chair and said: "Thank-"
"However-"
Deanna interrupted from the side. A bad feeling emerged in Lawrence's heart once more. Several visitors in the course of a single day, the empty chair with nothing piled upon it-The dark words, "Could it be" surfaced in Lawrence's mind.
Deanna's face changed into an apologetic one as she continued: "Someone has already come to make a purchase." Lawrence's fear had become a reality.
He said the words that one would naturally say as a merchant. "How large was the quantity bought? How much was it sold for?"
"Please be calm. The other customer purchased on credit, and did not take away the items. To put it plainly, it was no different from making an order. Personally, I don't mind giving the items to you instead, Mr. Lawrence. So, let me try negotiating with that customer first. One more thing, I recall that the amount purchased came to about 16,000 Iredo by today's market value."
That was equivalent to four hundred Trenni silver coins. If he could only obtain such an amount, it would be a huge step in carrying out his plan.
"I understand. Uhm, the name of the customer is...?"
If Deanna were to say Amati's name, Lawrence's plan to save his situation would be obliterated. Yet, Deanna shook her head lightly, and said in a steady tone: "I will take the responsibility of negotiating with the other party. For safety reasons, we do not allow those dealing with alchemists to know who their opponents are."
"B..but..."
"You have any objections?"
A smile that completely lacked the feeling of a smile.
Lawrence, from the standpoint of one requesting help, could only remain silent.
"You call it a battle, which indicates that this isn't something ordinary, so I'll do all that I can to help you, and tell you the results of the negotiation as soon as possible. Where would one definitely be able to find you tomorrow?"
"Ah, uhm....in the marketplace, before the mineral merchant's vending stand. I should be there at all times before and after the marketplace's opening time. Or you can contact the wheat merchant Mark. The location of his stand is..."
"I know the spot. I understand. I'll send someone to inform you as soon as possible." "I'm counting on you."
Lawrence could say no more, so he said only that.
Yet, depending on the results of the negotiation, it was possible that Lawrence would not be able to purchase any pyrite. If he really could not manage to buy any, the consequences would be catastrophic and beyond repair.
Even so, the things Lawrence could say were limited.
"I won't be stingy about paying a lot of money. Please tell the other party that, as long as he does not make an unreasonable demand, such as two times the market value, I am willing to pay a considerably-large sum."
After nodding with a smile, Deanna stood up from her chair.
Lawrence understood that it was time for him to take his leave. To suddenly show up uninvited at such a time without meeting with refusal could already be considered a miracle, Lawrence thought to himself.
"I am terribly sorry for coming uninvited at such a late hour," he said. "Not at all. I don't distinguish between night and day."
Lawrence did not feel like Deanna was joking, but this caused him to loosen up and smile.
"Besides, as long as you can provide an interesting story, it wouldn't matter even if you stayed the entire night."
Although Deanna's words seemed to carry a sense of seduction, Lawrence was sure they had come from the heart.
However, Lawrence had long since told the interesting story he knew.
Instead, a question Lawrence wished to ask suddenly flashed through his mind. "Is something the matter?" Deanna inquired.
The thought that flashed through his head caused Lawrence to halt in surprise.
He quickly responded with an "It's nothing" before heading toward the front door. The question that flashed through his head was so utterly ridiculous it was startling.
"Deliberately acting mysterious on leaving a woman's home, careful you don't bring divine retribution upon yourself."
The words Deanna shot out sounded like those of a prank-loving maiden. Seeing the cheerfully-smiling Deanna, Lawrence could not help but feel that no matter what kind of question he asked, she would reply seriously.
Moreover, this was probably also a question that only Deanna could answer.
Lawrence reached his hand out for the door, and simultaneously turned around to speak: "I wish to ask you a question."
"By all means, ask."
Hearing Deanna's unhesitant answer, Lawrence cleared his throat once, and asked his question: "Pagan deities and humans...uh...are there legends of any becoming a pair?"
If Deanna were to ask why he brought up this question, Lawrence would be completely unable to reply. Even so, Lawrence still wished to ask it, ignoring the risks.
When Horo said in tears that she had become alone, she had mentioned that if she were to have a child, that would make two people.
If something like this could possibly happen, Lawrence wished to pass the information to Horo, so that she could continue to hope.
Hearing such a random, out-of-the-blue question, Deanna appeared somewhat caught off guard. However, she immediately resumed a serious expression. And replied slowly: "There are many." "Really?"
Lawrence could not help asking jubilantly. "For instance-ah, are you in a hurry?"
"Ah, y..yes. But, next time...would you be willing to share with me in detail?" "Of course."
Luckily, Deanna did not ask the reason for bringing up the question.
Lawrence expressed many earnest thanks, and prepared to leave Deanna's residence.
In the instant the front door was about to be closed, Deanna seemed to give a soft, brief utterance: "Good luck."
Just as Lawrence was getting ready to question, the door was already closed.
Was Deanna aware of the offensive and defensive battle between Lawrence and Amati?
Though Lawrence felt like something was off, he did not have any more time to waste on thinking about it. What he needed to do next was return to Mark's vending stand, and then proceed to seeking out others who might be in possession of large quantities of pyrite.
Not only was Lawrence short on time, what was even worse was that he basically had no pyrite on hand. If this continued, he would not even stand a chance, and would only be able to pray for help from above. Lawrence thought that even if he had to be forceful, he had to squeeze out the names of people who might possess pyrite from Mark. Then, even if it meant having to provide extra benefits, he needed to purchase the pyrite.
But did running about busily at night on the streets like this really mean he could get a bit closer to Horo? As Lawrence posed himself this question, the answer that surfaced in his mind was filled with uncertainty.
Upon arriving back at Mark's vending stand, Lawrence found Mark drinking at the same table as before, and the boy beside him nibbling on a piece of bread.
Just as Lawrence was thinking, "What a rare sight, having a meal at such an hour," Mark noticed Lawrence's arrival, and directed his gaze and words toward him: "How'd it go?"
"You should be able to tell just by looking at me."
Lawrence shook both hands lightly, then looked Mark straight in the eye and said: "I brought it up with Miss Deanna. But, someone's beaten me to it. I don't know how things will turn out." "Someone beat you to it?"
"As a result, I can only place my hopes on what you told me."
Because Deanna had expressed her willingness to help, Lawrence predicted that the chances of obtaining the pyrite were about seventy percent.
However, Lawrence felt that acting as if he had nowhere left to turn before Mark would probably carry a greater effect.
In the previous conversation with Mark, Lawrence had already learned that, from a town merchant's point of view, his request was an unreasonable one.
That being the case, he could only try appealing to Mark's emotions. Yet, hearing Lawrence's words, Mark did not make any response. "Oh....about that."
Such were the words that came out of Mark's mouth, and Lawrence could clearly hear the blood draining away within his body.
However, Mark immediately gave the boy, who was still chewing on bread, a knock on the head, and thrusting forth his chin said: "Hurry up and report the results!"
The boy who had just received a knock on the head quickly swallowed the bread and, standing up from the chair made from a leftover piece of log said: "If it's to be paid in Trenni silver coins, it's 370 coins' worth of...uh...py-" "You trying to let the whole world know!? That's how it is."
Mark quickly surveyed his surroundings once as he covered the boy's mouth with a thickset palm. If this discussion were accidentally overheard by someone nearby, surely it would cause quite a bit of trouble for Mark.
Yet, Lawrence couldn't suppress a puzzled expression.
"Paying in Trenni silver coins? Worth 370 coins?" he questioned.
"Haha. Seeing that expression on your face, even I can't help feeling happy. It's like this, after you left, I did a bit of thinking."
Mark removed his hand from the boy's mouth, and reached directly for the liquor-filled mug. He then said cheerfully: "Even I would refuse to help you for the sake of upholding my reputation, so I'm assuming the same applies to the other guys. But even I have bought some of that product with the idea of making some side profits, and so of course, the same goes for everyone else. However, the reason I'm able to keep it at the scale of simply making some small side profits is that I don't have any cash on hand. Theoretically, the value of wheat should be dropping because the people purchasing goods for their return trips haven't been buying wheat. Even with the price dropping, those who've come to peddle wheat are still doing so without any hesitation, which is why I've already spent all the cash I had on hand. That being the case...."
Mark gulped down some liquor, belched in a seemingly comfortable manner, and at the same time continued: "That being the case, what would those who do have cash on hand do? I simply can't believe they'd be able resist the urge to make a move. Most likely, they have been buying large quantities quietly, while remaining in the shadows. But to talk about this, I need to bring up the reason I mentioned to you before for not being able to help you. These people are not loners like traveling merchants. Each is a merchant with his own standpoint and bearing on his back the reputation of his store. Naturally, they would've been happy about successfully purchasing the merchandise, but now that the price has grown way too high, they're frustrated over wanting to yet not being able to get rid of the merchandise. Even if they are to sell off a very slight quantity, it would bring a startling amount of profit. To the particularly nervous type, this would probably be even more a matter of concern. I'm sure you who are so intelligent can easily figure out what would follow after that?"
Mark threw out such a question at the end. It wasn't until a few moments later that Lawrence nodded his head.
Mark must have had the boy run all over the place, spreading the rumor.
"There's a traveling merchant obsessed with making money who said he was willing to purchase pyrite with cash. What do you think? Why not take advantage of the moment to help him get rid of the pyrite whose price has risen too high and which he has trouble now getting rid of himself," Mark proposed.
Anyone who heard such a suggestion would undoubtedly consider it a timely rain.
Of course, it was without a doubt that Mark had signed a contract with these people promising a service charge paid to him during a subtle exchange of cash for pyrite.
Making an exchange for pyrite under the pretext of doing the other party a favor, it was the ideal plan. Yet, to have been able to purchase a quantity worth 370 silver coins using this trick, this meant that there existed within the market a considerably large pressure to sell.
"That's the way it is. If you're willing, I'll send the boy off to take care of it right away," Mark concluded. Lawrence had no reason to refuse.
He immediately untied the gunnysack he had been carrying on his back. "But..."
Lawrence suddenly ceased the movement of his hands. Mark looked toward Lawrence with a surprised expression.
Lawrence shifted back to reality, and quickly took out a bag of silver coins from the gunnysack, placing it upon the table.
Then, he murmured: "Sorry."
Hearing this, Mark sighed with an expression that seemed to say he didn't know what to do with Lawrence, and said: "You should be thanking me at such a time, right?" "Huh? Ah, right. Sor...no."
Lawrence felt as if he was speaking to Horo. He opened his mouth once more to speak: "Thank you."
"Gahahahaha, I didn't think you were such an interesting guy. Hmm? No, that's not it."
Mark received the bag of silver coins from Lawrence's hands. After confirming the contents with his own eyes, he unfastened the string and passed the bag to the boy. The boy stacked up the coins swiftly, and began counting them.
"I believe you've changed," said Mark. "...Really?"
"Aye. Rather than being an exceptional merchant, it would probably be more appropriate to say you used to be a totally transparent merchant. Tell the truth, you never did consider me a friend did you?"
Because Mark had successfully read his mind, Lawrence was for a moment completely unable to speak. Yet, Mark simply laughed cheerfully and continued: "What about now? In your heart, am I still just a target for a deal, a merchant who's easy to communicate with?"
Faced with such a direct inquiry from Mark, there was no way Lawrence could nod his head.
Even so, Lawrence felt as if he had been caught within an amazing illusion. He shook his head in such a state of emotion.
"This is precisely the reason why I just can't quite get used to the life of a town merchant after having spent so much time as a traveling merchant. But there's one other thing that's even more interesting."
Lawrence was uncertain whether it was because he had been drinking or some other reason, but Mark truly appeared to be very happy.
Even though Mark, who was still talking, had trimmed his facial hair into a rectangular shape, his face at that moment appeared as round as a chestnut.
"Let me ask you something. If you were faced with the possibility of having to part with me, would you be running about Kumerson so frantically?" said Mark.
The boy, who lived daily under the power and influence of his master Mark, lifted his head and looked towards the two men one at a time.
Lawrence thought it completely amazing.
Although he already viewed Mark as a friend, if he were to be completely honest in answering the question, he simply could not respond with a nod.
"Hahahaha. That's alright, I can still hope on the future. Although." Mark paused suddenly mid-sentence, then said in a steady tone: "You're putting in so much effort for the sake of your companion."
The instant he heard this, Lawrence felt a burning sensation pass through his throat and slide down into his stomach.
Mark shifted his gaze toward the boy, and said in a somewhat mocking tone: "This is what a man who's completely infatuated with a woman looks like. But then again, a branch that's not flexible enough would not be able to withstand strong winds."
A year passed alone was not as long as two people passing half a year together (note: I don't quite agree, but then again I'm just translating what the book says...xD).
That being the case, just how much older was Mark compared to Lawrence?
"You and I are the same. You must be under the traveling merchant's curse," said Mark. "Cu...curse?"
"The fact that you've become such an interesting person is probably because the curse is almost broken. Don't you understand? Did you not end up traveling with your companion out of sheer luck?"
Driving a horse-drawn cart carrying wheat while passing through a village, Horo had hidden herself within that same wheat by chance.
Lawrence felt that his being able to become so close with Horo was nothing less than a fortunate gift from heaven.
"Huhahahaha, I seem to be looking at myself when I first met Adele. You're under the curse alright, the traveling merchant's curse."
Lawrence felt like he finally understood.
Although he felt that Horo was an important existence, he had always tried coolly to maintain a certain distance.
Moreover, as a result of this, Lawrence had ended up not realizing just how much he had become blind to his surroundings because of Horo.
Such a condition was way too disharmonious. Lawrence had at last discovered the reason.
"The curse you're referring to is...the infamous 'traveling merchant's complaint' right?" he said.
Mark laughed even harder. Knocking on the head of the boy, who had stopped what he was doing, he said: "The poet says that money cannot buy love, and the missionary says that there are things more important than money in this world. In that case, why do you suppose that after working our asses off making money, we're still able to obtain something more important than money?"
The reason Lawrence had sunk into contemplation as he thought about what kind of existence Horo was to him was because she had always been beside him seemingly as a matter of course.
If it were something that Lawrence had obtained after extensive effort and hardship, he would surely not feel so irresolute.
Moreover, Lawrence had always thought that anything "important" must necessarily be obtained through such a difficult process.
What am I to you? Lawrence felt that he could answer that question now.
"Mm, I haven't said something so moving in a long time. Plus helping you gather information on the northern regions, only collecting ten Rumione from you seems too little," said Mark.
"If all you just said had been made up on the spot, that would be nothing less than an extortionate profit." Hearing Lawrence utter this in an indignant manner, Mark opened his mouth in a silent, tooth-revealing grin.
Lawrence responded with a smile.
"I just hope your plan will be able to succeed."
Lawrence nodded his head. His mood at that moment seemed as clear as a cloudless night sky. "Although, whoever turns out victorious, how things actually end up will still ultimately depend on your performance.," Mark added. "Huh?"
"Nothing," said Mark, shaking his head. He gave a signal to the boy, who had finished counting the coins and, like a loyal, model servant, the boy went swiftly to making preparations. Within a few seconds, the boy was already set to leave.
"Alright! Go now."
Sending off the boy in this manner, Mark turned back to Lawrence and spoke: "So, where do you plan to sleep tonight?"
"I haven't decided yet."
"In that case..."
"No, I've decided. May I sleep here tonight?"
His face full of amazement, Mark asked in return: "Sleep here?"
"Aye. You have gunnysacks for carrying wheat here right? Lend me some."
"Of course, I can lend you as many as you need. But..come over to my house, I won't charge you any money."
"It may bring good luck to do this."
This was something that many traveling merchants did.
Hearing this, Mark seemed to give up on continuing his invitation. "Then, I'll see you here tomorrow at daybreak."
Lawrence nodded in response, and Mark raised his mug to say: "How about toasting a prayer for a dream come true?"
Of course, Lawrence had no reason to refuse.
Lawrence let out a big sneeze.
Of course it didn't make a difference when he was traveling alone, but lately Lawrence had always been traveling with a nitpicky and arrogant companion, so he was continuously cautious. Yet even so, he could not suppress a loud sneeze.
Lawrence felt particularly cold as he frantically checked to see if his traveling companion, who shared a bed with him, had been awoken.
Then, he finally realized that he was sleeping alone next to Mark's vending stand. "..."
Although Lawrence had intentionally chosen to sleep alone, having long since prepared his heart, he still felt a great sense of loss upon awakening.
Always having someone by your side when you woke up.
Such things were always easy to get used to. Yet it was never until they were lost that one truly realized their value.
Lawrence decided not to continue clinging to the covers and be reluctant to part with the warmth they provided. He stood up resolutely.
As soon as he did so, the freezing air swiftly enveloped Lawrence's entire body.
At this hour when the sky still appeared dim, the boy was already out of bed and sweeping the ground in front of the vending stand.
"Ah, good morning." "Oh, morning."
The boy seemed to wake up at this hour as a habit, in order to make preparations for opening up shop. From the looks of it, he did not seem to be intentionally putting on such behavior because Lawrence, a friend of his master was present. The boy casually greeted a few other boys who were passing by the stand.
He was an apprentice whose behavior was worthy of praise.
This was probably not a result of Mark's training, but because the boy was quite exceptional to begin with. "Oh yes."
Hearing Lawrence address him so, the boy turned his head sharply. "Did Mark explain to you what needs to be done today?"
"No, the master did not say anything..uhm, is it to help you push the unrighteous villain into a trap?"
The boy said in an exaggerated manner, changing his expression and lowering his voice. Lawrence could not help feeling a bit surprised at hearing this. However, he immediately pulled out his merchant's ability, nodding with a grave expression and saying: "I can't tell you the details, but that's about right. It's possible I'll even need to have you take on a difficult task."
The boy pressed the wheat-made broom close to his waist like a long sword and swallowed once. Watching the boy's appearance, Lawrence could be sure of one thing.
And that was that despite working responsibly as an errand boy for the wheat store, deep down inside the boy still retained a sense of longing for the life of a knight or soldier.
Terms like "unrighteous villain" only appeared in tales.
As if he had seen his former self, Lawrence could not help feeling a wave of itching in his heart that was difficult to bear.
"What's your name?" he asked. "Huh? Ah, uhm..."
When a merchant asked a person for his name, it represented an acknowledgment of the latter's abilities. The boy had most likely never been asked his name before.
Although Lawrence could easily discern this fact from the boy's flustered manner, he decided that the boy was exceptional after all.
Because the boy quickly replied in a steady tone: "Lande. My name is Ewell (pronounced similar to "Ell" with a "w" sound inserted. Sorry, I'm no good at translating names, so this is the best I can do.) Lande."
"Were you born in a region farther north than this place?" "Yes, I came from a village frozen in snow and frost."
Lawrence immediately understood that the boy's use of such a description was not because it was easier to convey the appearance of the village that way, but because that was how it had really appeared when he looked back at it for the last time.
That was the so-called "North."
"I see. Lande, I'm counting on you today."
Seeing Lawrence reach out his right hand, Lande quickly wiped his palm with a corner of his clothes and grasped Lawrence's hand.
Although Lande's palm was rough and filled with calluses, it nevertheless belonged to a pair of hands that held the potential to grasp any kind of bright future.
How could he lose to him?
Lawrence held such a thought as he loosened his hand and spoke: "Anyway, I want to fill my stomach first. Is there any place that's already begun selling food at this hour?" "There's a vending stand that specially sells dry bread to travelers. Would you like me to go buy you some?" "I'll leave it to you then."
Having said this, Lawrence took out two Iredo silver coins with color as dark as copper, and handed them to Lande.
"Uhm, you can buy plenty with just one of these," said Lande.
"The other one is a reward paid in advance. Don't worry, I'll pay you a formal reward as well of course." Seeing a stunned Lande, Lawrence smiled as he added: "If you keep dragging around, Mark's gonna be here. He's bound to say what a waste it is to eat breakfast, right?"
Hearing this, Lande gave a quick nod and hurried off.
After watching Lande's departure for a while, Lawrence turned his gaze toward the passages between individual vending stands on the opposite side of the street.
"Don't you go spoiling that boy of ours."
"You could've simply said something to stop me."
Mark emerged from a gap between the merchandise. His face was distorted into a sour expression, and he said with a sigh: "It's been pretty cold lately after all. If he gets a cold because I let him go hungry, it would be quite troublesome for me."
Through his words, it was apparent that Mark actually held quite a bit of love for the boy.
However, allowing Lande to eat breakfast was not merely an act of kindness, but because he truly played an important role within Lawrence's plan.
Merchants were not Church clergymen. When merchants took action, they always had ulterior motives. "Looks like the weather will be nice today as well. Business is going to be very good."
Lawrence nodded in response to Mark, and took a deep breath. The cold, morning air was greatly refreshing.
Moreover, when he exhaled, all of his unnecessary thoughts seemed to be expelled along with the air. All that needed to be done next was to think about how to make his plan succeed.
It would not be too late to stop and ponder other things once he had already succeeded. "Alright, let me fill my stomach first,"
Lawrence said with spirit as he watched a panting Lande running back.
The place was suffused with a completely different atmosphere.
This was the first thing that entered Lawrence's mind upon arriving here.
What appeared at a glance to be as serene as a lake's surface was in fact as hot as boiling water when one reached out a hand to touch it.
Since the rising of the sun in the East at dawn, only at one corner of this place could be found an unusually-dense crowd. Every person's sight was directed toward the same vending stand.
That was the only vending stand in Kumerson that specialized in the buying and selling of minerals and precious stones. Everyone's gaze was focused on the impromptu price board placed at the front of the stand.
On the price board were lines of writing describing the shape and weight of the pyrite pieces, and beside each line was suspended a wooden plate on which the price and number of people in line to purchase were written.
Although a space for the number of people in line to sell had not been omitted on the price board, that space would most likely not have a chance to have any wooden plates suspending in it.
"The average price is...eight hundred Iredo huh."
This amount was approximately eighty times the original price.
The price could only be described as ridiculous. Yet, just as it was almost impossible to pacify a horse gone berserk, trying to check the rising price was no easy task.
Faced with the opportunity to make an easy profit, human reason became no different than a rope made from mud, completely incapable of harnessing a horse.
Although the sounding of the bell signaling the opening of the marketplace was still some time away, there was a tacit agreement among the people to deal ahead of time. Consequently, every now and then after Lawrence had arrived before the stand, he would still see merchants approaching the stand and whispering in the owner's ear. Once a certain number had been reached, the owner would slowly replace the wooden plates on the price board one by one.
The reason why the owner did not replace the wooden price plates immediately was most likely in order to prevent others from knowing who had purchased what type of pyrite with how much money.
Whatever the owner's intention, the number of people waiting to purchase only continued to increase.
Just as Lawrence began to silently calculate the total sum going into purchasing, a figure flashed across the corner of his vision.
Looking in that direction, he discovered the form of Amati.
Although Lawrence had discovered Amati first the previous night, Amati, being likewise a merchant who never failed to recognize an opportunity to make money, seemed to have an eye that was as sharp as Lawrence's. As Lawrence looked toward him, as if he could hear the sound of a shifting gaze, he looked toward Lawrence as well.
Considering the two's relationship, a warm greeting was unnecessary.
Although, since the two had arranged for Lawrence to collect the cash from Amati after the sounding of the bell signalling the opening of the marketplace, Lawrence could not behave too coldly either.
Just as these thoughts suddenly began to surface in Lawrence's mind, Amati was first to reveal a smile, nodding his head lightly.
Before Lawrence even had a chance to feel surprised, he discovered the reason behind Amati's behavior. Because Horo was right beside him.
For some reason, Horo was not dressed as a city girl, but was attired in nun's garments. To her long robe she had attached three large feathers of pure white, which were clearly visible even at a distance.
Horo kept her gaze directed toward the vending stand, showing no intention of looking at Lawrence. Watching Amati's smiling face, Lawrence could not help feeling a hotness growing deep within his abdomen.
Yet, as Lawrence watched Amati whisper something in Horo's ear before making his way toward him, passing through a group of merchants seated side-by-side, the serene appearance Lawrence feigned made it seem as if those inner emotions did not exist at all.
As long as the other person was not Horo, Lawrence was confident that his act would not easily be seen through.
"Good morning, Mr. Lawrence." "Good morning."
Before a smilingly-greeting Amati, Lawrence spent a lot of effort in order to maintain a perfectly calm appearance.
"Since the crowds will swarm this place the moment the market bell tolls, I thought it best to hand this to you ahead of time."
Having said this, Amati took out a gunnysack from within his bosom. The gunnysack was as compact as a waist pouch.
"This is?"
Lawrence, who was fully convinced that Amati had come to pay the silver coins, could not help asking. The gunnysack was way too small to contain three hundred silver coins, Lawrence thought.
"This is what I promised to give you."
Yet, Amati still said so. Although Lawrence felt somewhat suspicious, he could only accept the gunnysack Amati handed him.
Then, after untying the gunnysack and peering inside, Lawrence could not help widening his eyes in astonishment.
"Perhaps this was not quite called for, but I figured it would be inconvenient for you to walk around carrying three hundred silver coins, so I decided to pay you in Lima (note: pronounced "lee-ma") gold coins," said Amati.
The gunnysack was in fact filled with gold coins. Just where and how did Amati manage to obtain a supply of gold coins?
Although the value of the Lima gold coin was less than that of the Rumione, within Proania, the country to which Kumerson belonged, the Lima was a gold coin widely circulated among the regions along the western shore, and was about equivalent to twenty Trenni silver coins.
Come to think of it, the fact that Amati was able to obtain gold coins in this era where cash currency was so scarce most likely meant that he had paid a considerable service charge.
His doing so intentionally was probably in order to indicate to Lawrence that he had plenty of money on hand, so as to shake Lawrence's resolve.
The fact that Amati was moving around with Horo was surely to redirect Lawrence's attention toward these matters.
Because Lawrence had inadvertently widened his eyes into a stare, there was no way for him to conceal the wavering in his heart.
"I prepared the amount using the latest market value. The total is fourteen Lima gold coins," said Amati. "....Understood, received indeed."
"Don't you need to count the number of coins?"
The way Lawrence saw it, the most appropriate thing to do at that moment was to utter a "No need" in a casual manner. Yet, after squeezing out these two words with much effort, it only gave the impression of acting tough.
"Then, would you kindly hand me the contract for the three hundred silver coins?" Lawrence had to be reminded even of this step before taking out the contract. Amati was completely ahead of Lawrence.
As the exchanging of cash and the partial contract was completed, it was also Amati who was first to utter the necessary line: "received indeed."
Watching the form of Amati's back as he departed, a sense of foreboding flashed repeatedly through Lawrence's mind.
During the signing of the contract on the previous day, Amati's using insufficient cash as an excuse to fill the necessary sum with three horses was perhaps a part of his strategy.
Always having a bit of cash on hand was common sense shared by all merchants.
Moreover, before daybreak, Amati had probably also searched for and purchased pyrite using the same method as that of Lawrence and others.
With a sufficient supply of pyrite, all that would be required was a very slight increase in the price.
Thinking back on the way Amati had bowed gracefully and turned around after having received the contract, Lawrence simply could not convince himself that Amati had been pretending.
Just how large a stock did Amati possess?
Lawrence pretended to rub his nose, and bit the nail of his thumb.
According to Lawrence's original plan, as soon as it was past noon, he would be able to proceed as planned, selling off select quantities of pyrite at timely moments in order to slow down the rise in price.
Should he take action ahead of time? Such an idea flashed through Lawrence's mind. Yet, Deanna's subordinate had still not shown up.
Before becoming sure of whether or not he would be able to obtain a large stock, it would be difficult for Lawrence to take action even if he wished to.
Although Lawrence could purchase additional pyrite on the side using the gold coins Amati had paid him before knowing the results of the negotiation, if Deanna's negotiation were indeed to succeed so that Lawrence received an additional four hundred silver coins' worth of pyrite, that would also be problematic.
Though having sufficient funds on hand was not a problem since Lawrence had already allotted another portion of silver coins to be paid to Deanna, he would end up having too large a supply of pyrite.
Even though Lawrence had been purchasing pyrite with the intention of causing a drop in its price, he had at the same time been controlling the amount he bought, in order to prevent the loss resulting from the price drop from causing his own bankruptcy.
If Lawrence held the resolve even to go bankrupt in order to defeat Amati's plan for the sake of Horo, perhaps Horo would be willing to accept his sincerity.
Yet, an acceptance of his sincerity was not enough to bring about a perfect ending, because Lawrence still needed to make a living after that.
The restriction known as reality weighed heavier than the gold coins in his hand. The mineral shop's price board was renewed once more.
Apparently, someone had just purchased a large quantity of pyrite; the prices on the board and the number waiting in line to purchase went up dramatically.
How much would the pyrite Amati had on hand be worth after this increase? Thinking up to this point, Lawrence could not help feeling restless.
Yet, being unable to keep a cool mind meant defeat.
Lawrence closed his eyes, lowered the hand he had been biting on, and slowly took a deep breath. All the thoughts he had been possessed with a moment ago were the result of Amati's intentional misguidance, and part of his trap, Lawrence thought to himself.
Whatever the case, Amati was being backed by Horo after all. Therefore, if he could just discover the plan behind the plan behind the plan, he should not be able to go wrong (note: wow, good luck with that, Lawrence...).
At that moment, the sound of the bell swept over Lawrence's head. That was the signal for the opening of the marketplace.
The battle had officially begun.
In a state of unusual excitement, it seemed that people were somehow more willing to behave themselves. Although everyone had been waiting in front the vending stand long before the sounding of the bell, they all nevertheless waited until the bell tolled before making their move.
Moreover, upon closer examination, one would discover people who looked like travelers or farmers selling off pyrite furtively, as if they were engaging in some treacherous act.
However, small-quantity selling only served to stimulate further rising in the price.
In a deal that involved absolutely no selling, only those who already possessed a stock stood to gain a profit. It was precisely because there was a number of small-quantity selling, along with people who were willing to buy back this quantity that everyone stubbornly remained before the stand, unwilling to leave.
Because each individual knew that he had the opportunity to make a profit, everyone was unwilling to leave. Judging from such a chain reaction, one needed to prepare a considerably-large amount of pyrite in order to cause a drop in the price after all.
The price board, which kept disappearing and reappearing due to the crowd blocking Lawrence's line of sight, was like a marketing thermometer that was being continually heated, the indicated temperature rising higher and higher.
Deanna's subordinate still had not shown up.
In the case that the negotiation was a failure, if Lawrence did not manage to take action soon, he would miss his chance.
As he watched the price board in a panicking mood, the form of Amati standing before the vending stand appeared to his eyes.
In that instant, Lawrence felt a wave of terror sweep over him, causing him to want to run forward immediately clutching tightly to the pyrite in his bosom.
Yet, if this were Amati's strategy for swaying his heart, it would bring about catastrophic consequences. If Lawrence sold an insufficient amount, it would only increase everyone else's expectation of being able to purchase pyrite as long as he continued to wait his turn, and the more people waiting in line to purchase, the higher the price would rise.
With much effort, Lawrence managed to control the urge to sell off his pyrite, praying that this was just Amati's strategy for causing him to waver.
At that moment, he suddenly realized something. Horo had disappeared.
Lawrence surveyed the surrounding area, and discovered that Horo had at some unknown time moved to the outside of the wall of people wrapped within this unusual heat, and was looking directly at him.
As Lawrence's gaze met Horo's, she narrowed her eyes with a look of displeasure before turning around and walking off slowly.
Watching Horo moving off into the distance, Lawrence could feel a large amount of perspiration pour forth from his back.
This must be a trap Horo had set up on the sidelines.
If Horo had learned the market situation with pyrite through Amati, it was of course possible that she had come up with a trap for Lawrence. Someone as clever as Horo would probably easily be able to discover something that even Amati, who was responsible for explaining the situation, would miss.
Moreover, Horo was skilled at seeing through people's hearts. Under such circumstances, no existence was more powerful than Horo.
The moment his chain of thought reached such a point, Lawrence inadvertently sank into the illusion that everything before his eyes was made of mud.
He felt as if he would sink deeply into the mud no matter where he stepped, and that no matter whose movements he followed, the movements would end up being illusions.
Everything was probably part of Horo's plan, Lawrence thought suspiciously.
The feeling of terror that came with having a cunning wolf as an enemy struck at Lawrence's entire body bit by bit.
Even so, Lawrence was still unable to give up on the hope that Horo was doing this out of a rash passion. The poison of presumption and suspiciousness began to invade Lawrence's mind little by little.
Lawrence was not purposely gazing at the price board without any expression; that was all he was able to do.
The price of pyrite continued to increase little by little.
The only fortunate thing was that, since the price of pyrite had already grown by an exaggeratingly-high amount, the present rate of increase was quite low.
Even so, if it were to go on increasing like this, the amount of increase would no doubt easily approach twenty percent by noon.
As far as Lawrence knew, Amati possessed a stock of pyrite worth eight hundred silver coins. If the price were to rise an additional twenty percent, and forty coins were added to that, the target of one thousand coins would be reached.
If all that was needed was about forty coins, Amati would certainly not have trouble coming up with the sum.
When that time came, Amati would no doubt bring out all his fortunes and complete the contract on the spot. Under such a circumstance, the selling on credit that Lawrence had been depending on would probably lose its effect.
"Why hasn't Deanna's subordinate shown up yet?"
A sense of panic that seemed on the verge of melting everything turned over and over within Lawrence's belly, and he could not help muttering out loud.
Even if he were to begin searching everywhere for pyrite to buy now, how much could he possibly obtain? Unlike during the previous night when the marketplace was already closed and no one knew whether the price would increase or decrease following daybreak, at the present moment, everyone could see immediately and clearly that the trend was an upward one.
Under such circumstances, Lawrence did not feel that any person would be willing to sell the money tree he possessed to him.
Thinking up to this point, it became apparent that Lawrence's plan absolutely required the pyrite from Deanna if there was to be any chance of success after all.
Yet, if this continued for much longer, Lawrence could also receive a huge blow as a result of the selling on credit contract he had signed with Amati.
Lawrence rubbed the corner of his eye and sank into contemplation. He had believed that he was proceeding straight toward the goal of his plan while keeping a cool head, but now he felt as if he had run into a dead end.
"No." Lawrence changed his way of thinking.
He understood why the plan was not running smoothly.
The rise and fall of the price of pyrite was not the biggest problem. Behind this problem lay the fact that Lawrence had lost his faith in Horo.
Taking for instance the fact that Horo had been moving around with Amati early in the morning, it was possible that they had not waited till day to meet up, but had spent the night together.
It would not be surprising even if Horo had invited Amati back to the inn after he and Lawrence had completed the selling on credit deal.
Depending on the circumstances, perhaps Horo had even revealed her ears and tail and told Amati her true identity.
Although Lawrence wanted to tell himself that this was impossible, he also remembered that Horo had revealed her true identity to him without hesitation back when they had first met. It would be simply self-flattery to think that the reason Horo had done so was because she recognized Lawrence as a particularly open-minded person.
After all, Amati was madly in love with Horo. Surely Horo could make an appropriate judgment concerning whether or not to reveal her true identity to him.
Then, supposing that Amati had accepted Horo's true identityThe smile Amati had revealed moments ago surfaced clearly within Lawrence's mind. Horo was afraid of becoming alone.
Yet, Lawrence was not sure whether Horo only wanted to be with him.
The instant Lawrence realized that he should not be thinking about this problem, his legs lost balance and faltered.
That Lawrence did not trip and fall right there was sheer luck.
The sounding of the bell in the next second pulled Lawrence back to reality. "Oh oh..."
Lawrence looked toward the source of the sound, and discovered that the price marking the value of the most expensive piece of pyrite was renewed by a large degree.
Someone had placed a large bid.
Others were sure to be influenced by this and follow suit one after another.
Perhaps it was already impossible for Lawrence to prevent Amati from completing the contract.
Lawrence had still not received any news from Deanna at this point, which meant that the other party was being hesitant about whether or not to sell; if the price of pyrite displayed an upward trend, the possibility of the other party being willing to sell would be even lower.
From the looks of it, the smart thing to do would be to give up on this possibility and quickly take action. That being the case, Lawrence wishing his plan to succeed would be equivalent to asking for a miracle from above.
The only weapons he had left were four hundred silver coins' worth of pyrite, along with the rumor Lande had been tasked with spreading.
Such feeble weapons made Lawrence want to ridicule himself. He could not help having doubts about his own idea of seriously relying on the power of a rumor to attain his goal. Just the previous day, Lawrence had believed that such an idea was truly the product of experience, and a secret trick unknown to others.
Now, Lawrence could clearly see just how drunk he had been the previous night. He could not help beginning to think pessimistically about a fallback plan.
If he were to stay put like this without taking action, Lawrence would at least be able to receive a thousand silver coins from Amati. Even if the loss suffered from the selling on credit were subtracted from that, it would still be a decent profit.
The moment he reminded himself of this, though he felt like a miserable good-for-nothing, Lawrence felt his body grow much lighter.
You must be thinning that if you should really be able to receive a thousand silver coins, letting go would not be such a big deal, is it not so? Horo's past reproach had hit the truth.
Lawrence remembered that tucked away within his bosom was the letter from Deanna.
The information within the letter was a clue to finding Horo's hometown-Yoitsu. Perhaps Lawrence was no longer fit to hold onto this letter.
I am just a regular merchant after all, Lawrence thought to himself as he searched for the form of Horo.
All that had taken place within the estuary town of Pattio and the Church city of Rubinhaigen had been a mere dream.
As this idea emerged in Lawrence's mind, quite incredibly, all of this seemed to really become a dream. Within this crowd of people enveloped by heat and desire, Lawrence gave a strained smile as he surveyed all about. Because he was unable to locate Horo, Lawrence moved to another position and continued his search.
Quite some time had already passed since the opening of the marketplace. Because the day's festival had not yet begun, crowds of people continued to surge into the marketplace.
Lawrence was still unable to find Horo.
Just as Lawrence was silently complaining about not being able to find Horo now of all times, he suddenly remembered.
After their eyes had met, Horo had walked off, directing herself away from the wall of people. Could Horo have gone off to someplace else just like that?
If that were true, where could she have gone? Lawrence could not help thinking that perhaps she had determined that he was bound to lose disastrously, and had gone back to the inn early.
Surely this was simply a matter of course.
Although such an idea was so pitiful that even Lawrence could barely stand it, he realized that he had long since accepted himself even with the idea.
A few drinks would be so nice, Lawrence thought to himself. In the next second, he could not help letting out a short exclamation: "Huh?"
He had been searching within a fairly narrow range after all, so his eyes were bound to catch this existence sooner or later.
Lawrence let out a surprised and puzzled sound the moment the form of Amati came into his line of sight. That Amati's right hand was pressed against his chest was probably because it held pyrite and cash.
The point was not Amati's motion, but the fact that he was anxiously searching all around with a fretful expression on his face, just like Lawrence.
Lawrence began to suspect that this was Amati's acting.
Yet, the crowd sandwiched between Lawrence and Amati dispersed miraculously, revealing a narrow space between the two. In the few short seconds that this happened, Amati spotted Lawrence as well, and at the same time, revealed an expression of surprise.
Then, Lawrence caught a glimpse of an expression of relief from Amati. Although Lawrence's vision was quickly obscured by the crowd, he was sure of what he had seen.
Without even turning his mind, a thought jumped out at Lawrence.
Amati was looking for Horo. Not only that, but Amati had been relieved to see that Horo was not beside Lawrence.
Lawrence felt someone's shoulder collide with his back for a brief moment.
Looking back, he saw a man who appeared to be a merchant conversing fervently with another.
"That's odd." Just as Lawrence wondered silently to himself, he felt another impact pass from his back to the front of his chest.
This time he finally realized it.
The source of the impacts was in fact his own beating heart.
Amati had been searching for Horo with an anxious expression, and had even thought that Horo could be beside Lawrence.
This meant that Amati did not trust Horo from the bottom of his heart.
Which in turn meant that there must have been some kind of reason for doubt. What was it?
"Could it be?"
Lawrence could not help saying out loud.
The fact that Amati was searching for Horo meant that Horo had not told him where she was going. Moreover, this alone was sufficient to cause Amati to appear so flustered, which made it hard to believe that Horo had trusted him enough to be willing to reveal her ears and tail.
Lawrence could not help abandoning the series of dark and heavy suppositions he had made moments ago, weaving together once more a scenario leading toward a path of light.
Yet, Lawrence was not confident that he could make a cool judgment concerning whether or not this was simply his own wishful thinking.
Such an anxious emotion caused a wave of nausea to hit Lawrence.
At that moment, more cries rang out.
Lawrence looked quickly in the direction of the vending stand, and discovered that at some unknown time, the wooden plate marking the unusually-high price of the top-valued pyrite had been taken off.
In other words, the pyrite had been sold at this top value. Moreover, it was not for this reason that the cries had sounded.
The wooden plates marking the top values of the various kinds of pyrite were all taken off at the same time, and there was a decrease in the number of wooden plates representing the number of waiting buyers.
This meant that someone had sold off a considerably-large quantity of pyrite.
Lawrence swallowed the nauseating feeling of anxiety, and desperately sought to find Amati. Amati was not in front of the stand.
Neither was he anywhere near it.
Lawrence caught sight of Amati once more amongst the crowd.
Amati was just then watching the vending stand with an amazed expression. No, it was not Amati who had made the sale.
Before Lawrence had a chance to feel relieved, new plates for those waiting to purchase were immediately put up one after another, and the sound of cries were heard once more throughout the crowd.
Most likely, all the people here more or less possessed some pyrite, and were waiting in watch for the best opportunity to buy or sell. The buying and selling of pyrite had begun to show signs of large fluctuation, which would no doubt cause their considerations to enter a new phase.
Put another way, now was perhaps just the right time to sell.
If he were to sell off large quantities of pyrite in a planned fashion, perhaps there was some chance for success. The thought of this rekindled the fire of hope within Lawrence's heart, which had been on the verge of giving up.
"But..." Lawrence immediately changed his thinking like a fearful little rabbit.
Lawrence could not even say what Horo was thinking and where she had gone, much less easily see through one's heart. To harbor such a complacent thought was far too dangerous.
Even so, there should still be some hope-Lawrence could not help thinking.
Expectation, suspicion, supposition and fact were like four talons pulling at Lawrence's thoughts, causing them to be broken up into fragments.
If the Sage Wolf Horo were beside him right now, what kind of suggestion would she make? Lawrence could not help thinking fecklessly.
Lawrence felt that even if Horo were to make a casual suggestion, he would still make a decision based on it. This was because he trusted Horo.
At the very moment- "Uhm...."
As the voice reached his ears, Lawrence felt a tug at the corner of his clothes.
Lawrence spun around as if he had been sprung back by some great force, expecting the form of an arrogant and self-important girl to appear before his eyes.
Yet, the person standing before him was a youngster, whom he found to be Lande upon taking a closer look. "Uhm, Mr. Lawrence, may I disturb you for a minute?"
Because Lawrence had spun around at quite an amazing speed, Lande appeared somewhat startled, but he immediately revealed an expression which said that the situation was urgent.
Lawrence felt a wave of anxiety. After surveying his surroundings, he brought his face close to the much shorter Lande, and nodded his head.
"A customer has shown up at the shop who has requested to pay for wheat in minerals (note: he says "minerals," but Lande is obviously referring to pyrite)," said Lande.
Lawrence immediately understood Mark's intention. What he meant was that, if Lawrence were willing to pay for the pyrite in cash, he would accept the customer's request.
"How much money's worth?" asked Lawrence.
The fact that Mark had specially sent the boy out to inform Lawrence meant that it was no small sum. Lawrence swallowed once, awaiting Lande's answer. Lande opened his mouth to speak: "250."
Faced with this unexpected state of affairs, Lawrence clenched his teeth, holding in the urge to scream out loud.
Even though Lawrence had suffered the abandonment of the harvest wolf deity, the goddess of fortune had not forsaken him.
Lawrence immediately stuffed the small gunnysack Amati had handed him into Lande's hands and said: "Do it as quickly as possible!"
Lande nodded his head like an emissary who had received an order and hurried off. The market value of pyrite continued to fluctuate.
The number of waiting plates (note: as in, the wooden plates representing the number of people in line to purchase) had gone through a severe change. From this, it was apparent that the price would not continue to rise nonstop.
It could be told at a glance that the purchases and sales were pushing and competing against each other. With the price as it was, those who felt that it would not hurt to sell would begin selling off the stock they had in hand, whereas those who were hoping for the price to rise even further would purchase more.
Every now and then, Lawrence would catch a glimpse of Amati at the other end of the crowd. Amati was most likely also secretly watching his actions, Lawrence thought.
Moreover, the reason Amati was watching the vending stand along with Lawrence's actions was undoubtedly because he was still unable to raise the thousand silver coins.
"No," Lawrence thought silently to himself.
Perhaps Amati had long since raised the needed amount, but was considering the possibility that under the fluctuating market value, if he were to sell off the pyrite he held, a slight error may result in a price crash before he had sold off his entire stock.
Because Amati had signed a selling on credit contract with Lawrence, if Amati were to accidentally trigger a price crash, the contract would cause him to suffer an immense loss.
Not only that, but there was another important fact.
The five hundred silver coins' worth of pyrite Amati held existed in the form of a paper certificate. Regardless of the fact that it was a valid certificate able to be bought or sold, he had to wait till evening to get his hands on the actual items.
At this moment in time when the market value of pyrite was beginning to fluctuate rather than go up in a straight line, and the possibility of a drop began to take a stronger presence, what kind of response would he receive for wishing to sell off such a certificate?
In a deal involving selling on credit, there was a time gap between the money transaction and the product transaction.
In a situation where the price could potentially drop, the selling on credit certificate, which requested advance payment and promised to deliver the product at a future date was akin to a joker card on which a seductively-smiling witch was printed.
If the market value were really to drop, the last person in possession of this joker card would end up on the road to bankruptcy.
The slow-acting poison on which Lawrence had placed his hopes had taken effect. Amati was looking about desperately.
He must have been looking for Horo.
He must have been searching for the Horo who had guessed Lawrence's plan and given Amati advice. Within such an atmosphere which strongly suggested an imminent change in the wind's direction, even the offensive and defensive situation seemed to be in favor of a great reversal.
If Lawrence did not go on the offensive at that very moment, it would be the same as letting a miracle that only occurred once in a thousand years slip by.
People rushed before the mineral merchant's vending stand in droves, and the wooden plates on the price board were constantly being replaced.
Lawrence gripped the pyrite within his bosom tightly, anxiously awaiting Lande's return, which could happen at any moment.
It did not require much time to go to and back from Mark's vending stand from this place.
At that moment"Someone's made a purchase!"
Such a sound was carried throughout the site.
Someone must have gotten a bit overexcited and cried out.
In that instant, just like an attempt to re-stabilize a ship that had started rocking due to the effects of the wind, the surrounding air began to blow simultaneously toward the same direction.
Someone had just purchased a large amount of pyrite, which portended a continued rise in the price. Such an expectation caused the crowd's wavering mood to settle down once more.
Lande had still not returned.
As time went by, the atmosphere at the site began to calm back down gradually.
On the other hand, taking advantage of this opportunity where the number of potential buyers had become less, Lawrence could perhaps sell off a large quantity of the pyrite he had on hand and wipe away such an atmosphere.
That way, even if it were only for a brief moment, perhaps it would cause the waiting plates to be taken down.
At that very moment, the action of selling in bulk would probably have an extremely powerful effect. Lawrence took action.
Cutting through the crowds, he took out the gunnysack from within his bosom and stood before the vending stand.
"I wish to sell!"
Under everyone's gaze, Lawrence tossed the gunnysack in front of the stand owner.
The owner and his helping apprentices appeared stupefied for a brief moment, but immediately proceeded to their task.
The act of tossing a stone onto the lake surface that was just about to become calm again took effect. After the measuring process was completed in a swift manner, the apprentices who held waiting plates in their hands immediately ran off from the vending stand in order to deliver pyrite to the customers.
Lawrence immediately received the payment owed him.
Without taking a careful count of the sum, Lawrence gripped the cash tightly and rushed into the crowd once more.
As he did so, Lawrence caught a glimpse of Amati's agonized-looking face.
Lawrence felt no sympathy, nor did he feel that Amati was getting what he deserved. All he had in mind was his own business and goal.
Lawrence had sold off his entire stock of pyrite, and would need to wait till he was resupplied before being able to continue his offense.
Why had Lande and Deanna's subordinate still not shown up yet?
If four hundred coins' worth of pyrite were to arrive from Deanna at this time, the market value would be sure to go through a great reversal.
This was the crossroad of fate.
At that moment, a voice reached Lawrence's ears. "Mr. Lawrence."
Lande called out to Lawrence from amongst the crowd, his forehead full of sweat. Lawrence immediately rushed toward Lande, and received a bag from his hands.
The bag contained 250 silver coins' worth of pyrite.
Lawrence hesitated. He wavered between heading to the vending stand once more to sell off the pyrite he currently had in hand and waiting for Deanna's subordinate to show up first, in order to be absolutely sure.
At that moment, Lawrence could not help scolding himself.
Had he not just abandoned the hope that lay with Deanna moments ago?
The negotiation had already dragged on for so long. Was it not being overly optimistic to still be expecting Deanna to deliver the pyrite according to his wishes?
That being the case, Lawrence could only go ahead and play his last card. He turned around, and prepared to rush forward.
Suddenly, the sound of cheering rang out, causing Lawrence to stop in his tracks. "Ohohohohohohoh!"
The crowd was blocking Lawrence's line of vision, causing him to be unable to get a grasp on what had happened.
Yet, in the instant that he heard the cheering, Lawrence could feel his merchant's intuition telling him to cry out and run away, and indicating to him that the worst possible scenario had occurred.
Lawrence pushed past the crowd, and with great effort arrived at a position from which the vending stand's price board was visible.
He could not help wanting to praise himself for not having dropped to his knees right then and there. The top value on the price board had been renewed.
The price of pyrite had re-stabilized.
In the next instant, those who decided that the disturbance a few moments ago had simply been a temporary fluctuation in the market value seemed all at once to place orders to purchase.
With the vigor of a violent wave, the waiting plates were hung up next to the wooden plate marking the top value.
With great effort, Lawrence managed to suppress a feeling of nausea. He was forced to make a decision concerning whether or not to sell off the pyrite he held once more.
Perhaps there was still a chance of success if he took action right then.
No, the smart thing to do at that moment was to await the results of Deanna's negotiation.
After all, the quantity of pyrite involved in Deanna's negotiation had been worth four hundred silver coins on the previous night, and could very well have reached over five hundred at the present moment.
If he could just obtain that amount, added to the amount he already had on hand, he would have enough for another large sale.
As Lawrence placed his hopes on such a tiny possibility, he saw Amati walk off from the stand, his previously flustered manner already changed to a leisurely one.
Amati was surely planning to sell his pyrite.
It was uncertain, however, whether he was planning to sell all that he possessed.
Even without knowing what Amati's plan was, it was obvious that he was planning to exchange a portion of his pyrite for cash. Amati himself had probably become aware of the slow-acting poison. In that case, he was most likely planning to get rid of the portion of pyrite associated with the certificate first.
Why had Deanna's subordinate still not shown up? Was he no longer able to gain the help of the heavens? Lawrence cried out inside.
"Excuse me, are you Mr. Lawrence?"
The despairing Lawrence thought he had heard wrong. "You are Mr. Lawrence, correct?"
A short figure was standing beside Lawrence. A piece of fabric covered more than half of the person's face, only revealing a pair of eyes, making it impossible to tell whether it was a maiden or a young man.
It was certainly not Lande.
In that case, this person was most certainly the one Lawrence had been waiting so long for. "Miss Deanna wanted me to pass you a message."
The speaker's light green eyes gave off a serene radiance, in complete contrast with the abnormal atmosphere that filled the area.
The mysterious air emanating from the speaker made it hard for one not to wonder if he or she was a messenger sent by the heavens.
In other words, perhaps a miracle was occurring before his very eyes.
"The content of the message is that the negotiation has failed," said the messenger. Lawrence paused for a second.
"Huh?"
"Miss Deanna said that the other party is still unwilling to sell, and wanted to apologize to you for disappointing your expectations."
The clear and smooth voice related the facts, as if announcing a death. The results had somehow turned out like this.
So-called "despair" did not refer to a situation in which there was no hope to begin with...
...but to one in which the tiny bit of hope that did exist was crushed at the last moment. That was despair. Lawrence could not make a reply.
Deanna's subordinate seemed to have anticipated such a response from Lawrence. Without saying anything more, he/she turned around silently.
In his mind, Lawrence involuntarily overlapped the image of Horo's back fading into the crowd like an illusion with that of Horo's form as she departed from him in the sewers of Pattio.
Lawrence felt like a worn-out old knight wearing a rusted suit of armor as he directed his gaze toward the price board.
The number of people in line to purchase had gone back to normal, and the market value once again displayed an upward trend.
Although people were able to go along with marketing trends, controlling these trends was something only the gods could do.
Lawrence remembered a famous saying among merchants.
If a merchant's good fortune could last a bit longer, he would effectively have become a god.
Having exchanged an unknown amount of pyrite for cash, Amati walked off from the vending stand, returning to the outer circles of the wall of people carrying a leisurely expression on his face.
Lawrence had expected Amati to beam a prideful expression of victory in his direction, but Amati did not as much as give him a single glance.
This meant that someone must have appeared directly before Amati's line of vision. Horo had returned to Amati's side.
"Mr. Lawrence?"
The one who had addressed Lawrence was Lande. Horo and Amati were exchanging words, but her gaze did not once turn in this direction.
"Oh, sorry...this...uh, thanks for going through the trouble," said Lawrence. "Huh? Oh no, it wasn't any trouble at all..."
"Can you help me pass a message to Mark? Tell him that the plan has failed."
The moment these words came out, Lawrence realized just how easy it was to admit to failure.
Despite the plan's failure, quite ironically, the consequences were actually very good for Lawrence from a merchant's standpoint.
Lawrence still had some pyrite on hand. If he were simply to purchase a bit more to obtain the needed amount and hand it to Amati in the evening, and subtract this sum from the money he had just gained from selling off the previous batch of pyrite, the result of the calculation would probably turn out to be positive in terms of profit.
Not only that, Lawrence still stood to gain a thousand silver coins from Amati. The result could even be described as becoming filthy rich.
From a merchant's perspective, unexpectedly making a huge profit was no doubt the happiest thing in the world, yet Lawrence at that moment only felt a sense of infinite emptiness.
Lande's gaze wondered around in the air, appearing to be at a total loss. As Lawrence prepared to hand him a fee for his service, for the first time, his eyes displayed a strong personal will.
"Mr. Lawrence."
Lande's serious expression caused Lawrence to involuntarily stop the movement of his hand, which held several silver coins.
"Are you...you really planning to give up?"
When Lawrence was still an apprentice, if he ever wanted to raise a comment with his master, he would need to be fully prepared for a beating later on.
Lande probably also held such a resolve. His left eyelid trembled, as if in fearful anticipation of the fist that could strike at any moment.
"The master always told me that a merchant should never give up so easily."
Seeing Lawrence retract his extended hand, Lande's shoulder recoiled for a moment in fear. Even so, Lande did not look away.
He was making a serious suggestion.
"The master always says that the god...god of wealth doesn't take care of those who only pray, but those who keep fighting stubbornly and never give in."
Lawrence did not have any objections to these words. However, his goal this time was not to make money. "Mr. Lawrence."
Lande's gaze was directed straight at Lawrence.
Lawrence took one brief glance at Horo before directing his gaze back to Lande. "I...I started liking Miss Horo ever since I first met her. But, the master told me..."
The outstanding wheat merchant's apprentice, who always silently completed every task assigned to him, regained an innocent, youthful expression.
"...if I were ever to say something like this before Mr. Lawrence, I would surely get a good beating," Lande said, seeming as if he were about to burst into tears. Lawrence smiled lightly, and raised his fist up high.
"Heh..."
Lande inhaled sharply.
Lawrence gave Lande's cheek a light tap with his fist, and said with a laugh: "That's right. I want to give you a nice, hard beating."
After uttering this with a laugh, Lawrence could not help feeling a desire to cry. Lande was probably about ten years younger than Lawrence.
But Lawrence felt that his current appearance was not much different from Lande's.
"Damn." Lawrence scolded himself silently.
Before Horo, it seemed that anyone would become a sniffling youngster Lawrence shook his head.
Someone who kept fighting stubbornly and never gave in?
Although the phrase sounded laughable, Lawrence felt a devilish charm in the words, and lifted his head to look up at the sky.
These words that had been uttered by a youngster ten years younger than himself caused the dark maelstrom consisting of supposition and doubt to instantly fade away from Lawrence's mind. That's right! Since he had already gotten to this point, the profit left in his hands would only serve as proof of his defeat, so losing this profit would not hurt in the least.
That being the case, it certainly would not hurt to be optimistic and rethink the entire situation before making one final move.
Things that were important did not necessarily need to be obtained through great effort. Because Mark had just cleared up this myth for Lawrence not long before.
Lawrence made use of the power of memory he was so proud of, and searched for the raw materials necessary to construct a new plan.
And the central axis of this plan consisted of something Lawrence had not thought of until a moment ago. "The people who keep fighting stubbornly and never give in are usually those unbelievably optimistic fellas who cling to any hope they have as they continue to observe the situation," he said.
In that moment, Lande revealed an expression befitting his age. This expression was more appealing than his appearance when he was fulfilling a given task, and even when he was fulfilling a task that had not been assigned him.
Surely Mark loved this boy as his own.
"A merchant always formulates plans, predicts the future, and compares his ideas with the facts. You understand that don't you?"
Despite hearing an off-topic remark, Lande still nodded agreeably.
"Selling that item would cause such a change, selling this item would cause a different change. Making suppositions like this is also important."
Perceiving another nod from Lande, Lawrence moved close to his face and said: "Frankly, this thing called 'supposition' can be anything you want it to be. So if you formulate too many, you'll soon become lost, and start to feel that every deal is full of risks. At this point, in order not to be confounded, you need to have some kind of guidepost. This is a merchant's single requirement."
The young Lande revealed a slightly merchant-like expression and answered: "Yes."
"As long as it is trustworthy, even the most radical supposition can serve as a guidepost." Lawrence lifted his head, and closed his eyes.
"Perhaps....it would be best to believe."
"Stop kidding yourself," thought Lawrence, and silently mocked himself.
Even though his heart doubted, as Lawrence looked at the form of Horo, he became almost certain. Just maybe, Horo's manner of dress was hinting at such a possibility.
Although this possibility was not easily believable, if he were to try putting it to the test, Lawrence still felt there was a good chance that it would come true.
However, in order to fulfill this possibility, there was a condition that had to be met.
And that was what Lawrence had not thought of earlier, the precondition that Horo had not forsaken him. To still be thinking of something like this now, this certainly could be said to be the kind of optimistic view that only a person who struggled stubbornly and never gave in would have.
Even so, Lawrence still felt that at this point, holding such an optimistic view was more meaningful than trying to come up with a plan to stop Amati, because he had discovered a possibility of making this dream come true.
Lawrence did not know what Mark had told Lande to cause Lande to be willing to help him so. However, Lawrence felt Lande's saying that he liked Horo had probably been an honest confession. Lawrence considered Lande praiseworthy for being able to say that in front of him. At least, if the roles were reversed, Lawrence could not say with confidence that he would have possessed such courage.
In that case, Lawrence at least needed to maintain the pride and spirit of a merchant in not giving up easily, or else he would not be able to keep a steady footing before Lande.
After patting Lande lightly on the shoulder, Lawrence took a deep breath and spoke: "As soon as I sell the minerals at the vending stand, start spreading the rumor I asked you to spread for me." Lande's face was radiant. He nodded his head, having regained an apprentice's countenance.
"I'm counting on you."
Having said this, Lawrence prepared to turn around, but changed his mind.
Although Lande's eyes said that he wished to ask something, Lawrence ended up being the one to question. "Do you believe in God?"
Seeing a dumbstruck Lande, Lawrence simply uttered an "I'm counting on you," and walked off.
Lawrence possessed a supply of pyrite worth 250 silver coins. A simple calculation revealed that the sum waiting to be spent on purchasing which was indicated by the price board already exceeded four hundred coins. Even if he were to sell off all the pyrite he had on hand, he could not be hopeful that it would have any effect.
Yet, it had to have an effect. If his assumption was correct, it would definitely have an effect. Lawrence only looked back once, his gaze moving toward Horo, who was standing beside Amati.
Just one instant would be enough, Lawrence thought to himself. If Horo would just be willing to look in his direction, that would be sufficient.
And thenLawrence stood before the vending stand. The upsurge of people placing orders had come to a stop, and the stand had regained a measure of peace. Seeing Lawrence returning to sell more pyrite, the owner revealed an expression that seemed to say "Hmm?" He then revealed a smile, as if to say: "Looks like you have made quite a lot of money."
Although there had been no exchange of words, Lawrence nodded involuntarily. The real profit comes after this, Lawrence thought to himself.
Lawrence handed the owner the bag of pyrite he had received from Lande, and threw out a brief statement: "I wish to sell."
The owner, who received a service charge for every deal, gave a hearty smile and nodded. In the next second, however, his expression became one of amazement.
Lawrence closed his eyes, and revealed a smile.
The guidepost within Lawrence's heart had been correct. "Mr. owner, I wish to sell these as well."
The voice that reached Lawrence's ears even caused him to feel nostalgic.
Then, with a heavy thud, a bag that was easily twice the size of his own appeared before his eyes. Looking toward his side, Lawrence found Horo, looking as if she were ready pounce and bite in the next instant.
"Foolish mule."
Hearing this, Lawrence gave a smile and said with no other intention: "Sorry."
After staring vacantly for a moment, the owner immediately ordered his apprentices to take down the waiting plates suspended on the price board all at once.
Together, the two bags amounted to at least 650 coins' worth of pyrite.
Since the estimated value for the amount Horo had brought along was for before the slight increase in price, the sum at the present moment was sure to be even higher. The one who had purchased pyrite from Deanna was none other than Horo.
In other words, together the two had sold a quantity of pyrite worth almost a thousand coins.
The buying atmosphere would probably not be able to stimulate any further increase in the market value. Taking off one of the white feathers attached to Horo's robe, Lawrence said: "Unlike somebody, she's a mature beauty, isn't she?" Horo threw a punch at the side of Lawrence's waist. But she did not withdraw her hand.
Lawrence felt that that alone was sufficient.
With a pushing and shoving crowd filled with a killing intent right behind their backs, Lawrence would not loosen his grip on Horo's hand for the world.
Although, he had a great urge to show off in Amati's face.
He could not help revealing a strained smile for harboring such a childish notion.
Final Chapter
In an instant, the price went through a severe crash.
Although there were still a few people who continued to buy small portions of pyrite after all the waiting plates had been rearranged, the sale that had approached one thousand silver coins generated a much more vigorous selling atmosphere, finally causing a complete reversal in the originally upward trend and a nosedive in the market value.
Of course, the ones who came into possession of the joker card last were those who had been waiting to purchase at the top value.
Even the sharp-eyed merchants who had come forth to sell as soon as they noticed Lawrence and Horo's actions suffered considerable losses.
As for Amati, who had not transferred the selling on credit contract to someone else while the exchange rate was still decent, it went without saying how terrible his loss was.
Before that moment, Amati had seen Horo suddenly make a dash for the vending stand, carrying a large bag, and reached out a hand in an attempt to stop her. Now, his hand was still extended forth, his body frozen in such a posture.
From Amati's standpoint, compared to the fact that the certificate he held had become a piece of scrap paper, the harsh reality of Horo suddenly turning hostile was surely a much greater blow.
Though on this point, Lawrence could not help feeling a bit sorry for him. It seemed that Horo had intended to not surrender herself to Amati since the very beginning, and had even planned to break off with him in a cruel manner.
The reason Horo would do so seemed to be that Amati had said something she simply could not stand. Although Lawrence out of fear did not dare ask what Amati had said, at the same time he felt as if he should ask Horo, in order to prevent himself from making the same mistake.
"So, is the contract over then?"
After completing the contract with Amati, Lawrence had paid Mark's vending stand a visit to thank him before returning to the inn. Seeing Lawrence return, Horo posed the question as she groomed her tail, not even bothering to lift her face.
Horo's tone still sounded somewhat sharp, but not because the two of them were still acting out of rash passion.
Lawrence of course knew the reason.
After setting down his items, he sat down and replied: "It's over. Completely and utterly over."
Lawrence was not joking.
Because he had very successfully completed the contract with the depressed Amati, who appeared like an empty shell separated from its soul.
Concerning the results, Amati had not suffered a net loss. The profit he had made all along making transfer sales was somewhat greater than the loss he had incurred due to the trap of selling on credit that Lawrence had set up.
On the other hand, Lawrence could understand perfectly well that Amati's present mood was just as if he had suffered a loss great enough to cause bankruptcy since, up till the last moment, Lawrence himself had been situated within such an atmosphere in which his mood had dropped to an all-time low.
In the end, Amati had not been able to fulfill the contract whose stakes were his being able to propose to Horo. As for the selling on credit, the deal was also completed in full when Lawrence had handed him the pyrite which was at that point not much better than garbage.
Because he had been worried that Amati's emotions might get out of control, Lawrence had requested the presence of the foreign firm owner as an arbitrator. The owner had said to Amati back then: "This is your punishment for stealing someone else's woman."
Although Lawrence was unsure whether Horo could really be called his "woman", at least the entire affair had the effect of teaching Amati, who had grown somewhat arrogant as of late, a good lesson.
After Lawrence had given Horo a brief account of all these things that had come to pass, Horo, who was sitting in bed, stopped grooming her tail and spoke, looking at Lawrence with an expression like that of judging the quality of a piece of merchandise: "You do not suppose then, that this means the entire affair has reached a perfect conclusion?"
Rather than saying her eyes seemed to be judging the quality of a piece of merchandise, perhaps it would have been more appropriate to say they seemed as if they were determining how harsh a punishment to dish out.
In his heart, Lawrence understood the mistake he had made.
Standing up, he raised both hands above his shoulders in a surrendering gesture and said: "I'm in the wrong."
Yet, Horo was not moved in the least.
"Do you truly know where you have erred?"
Although it was really quite pitiful for a grown man to be scolded to such an extent, Lawrence could only choose to bear this all resignedly.
Because he knew that he deserved to be scolded for making such a mistake. "I know...."
The wolf's ears twitched momentarily. "...I guess."
Hearing this, Horo sighed through her nose, and folded her arms before her chest with a look of displeasure. Saying just that was not enough to obtain Horo's forgiveness after all.
He therefore made his resolve, and apologized with the utmost sincerity: "When I had decided to take care of matters in this way or that after Amati's proposing the contract, I was just being totally self-complacent, wasn't I?"
Because of the sense of panic that seemed on the verge of melting his stomach and caused his entire body to be enveloped by intense heat, Lawrence had run all over the place just for the sake of preventing Amati from fulfilling the contract. But in the end, not only were his efforts all for naught, it could even be said that he had been in a state of total self-complacency.
"The truth is...not trusting you was my biggest problem."
Horo looked away, keeping only one ear directed toward Lawrence. What she probably meant was, "I shall listen to what you have to say."
Faced with Horo's extremely unpleasant attitude, Lawrence of course felt somewhat indignant, but he could not but admit that he did not wish to start a fight.
Lawrence lifted his head and took one glance at the ceiling before continuing: "That you would attach white feathers to your robe was in order to tell me that you had bought pyrite from Deanna, right?"
Horo nodded, her face full of displeasure.
"Yet, when Amati had gone forth to sell pyrite at the vending stand in a deliberately mysterious manner, I had thought that was a trap you had set up."
"Huh?"
Horo exclaimed softly and looked toward Lawrence, who hastily covered his mouth.
"Just said something I shouldn't have," Lawrence thought, but it was already too late. Horo uncrossed her legs, setting one foot on the floor, and drew near to question: "Explain more clearly."
Horo's amber eyes which carried a hint of red gave off a piercing radiance.
"I thought that was a trap set up to bait me into acting prematurely. When I saw Amati's actions, I was under the impression that you were already completely on his side, so there was no way I could've paid attention to the white feathers. It's just that....the truth was not as I thought it was, right?"
Horo's eyes seemed to say, "Of course."
At this point, Lawrence naturally understood what Horo's real intentions had been.
"It was to tell me that Amati already possessed a sufficient stock, and that I should hurry up and sell off my pyrite in bulk. That was what you were trying to convey, right?"
Lawrence had not trusted Horo, yet Horo had trusted Lawrence all along.
If things were to be explained using a relationship map, that was probably just how it had been.
Thus, Horo had allowed Amati to take an action from which Lawrence at the time could not at all figure out what her true intentions were, plus Lawrence had even one-sidedly determined that Amati had not been relying on his own judgment in attempting to shake Lawrence's resolve, but that Horo had become an enemy who was trying to frame him as well.
The only correct answer at the time was that only Horo was aware of Lawrence's plan.
Surely if Lawrence had simply noticed the white feathers and confirmed Horo's true intentions through eye contact, Horo would have sold her pyrite along with him right then and there.
"I simply cannot stand you...." Horo muttered.
She then thrust her chin forward, beckoning Lawrence to continue.
"Before that, the fact that you would sign and stamp the marriage certificate Amati had prepared, that...." Although Lawrence felt embarrassed, he could only force himself to say the words: "That was in order to give me a reason to be angry....right?" Horo's ears quivered faintly, and she took a forceful deep breath.
Perhaps thinking back on this was causing wave after wave of anger to surge up within Horo's heart.
Back then, Horo must have been eagerly expecting Lawrence to rush up to the second floor, marriage certificate in hand.
Yet, after waiting and waiting without Lawrence coming upstairs, perhaps she had gone on waiting like that till daybreak.
Having thought to this point, Lawrence could not help feeling that he could not utter a word of complaint even if Horo were to bite him to death on the spot.
"Back when we were in Rubinhaigen, did I not already tell you? Do not take useless little actions. Just come right out and say what is in your heart. Yelling at each other will solve the problem much more quickly."
Horo scratched the roots of her ears, producing a creaking sound. She appeared as if she could not possibly get any angrier.
Horo had shown no signs of being flustered even when Lawrence discovered Amati walking out of the inn, and had even prepared the marriage certificate, all for the sake of angering Lawrence so that he would be able to speak his heart more easily.
Lawrence on the other hand had mistakenly thought that Horo had issued an ultimatum.
Thinking back on it now, however, Lawrence finally realized that the situation back then indeed formed the ideal conditions for letting loose all his emotions and telling Horo that he did not wish for her to accept Amati's proposal.
Moreover, it seemed that if he had simply said that, Horo would have been willing to forgive him. "So, I had completely misunderstood you from the very beginning," said Lawrence.
Horo lowered her chin, and looked at Lawrence with eyes that were beyond displeased, appearing almost resentful.
Those eyes indicated just how ridiculous Lawrence's error had been.
"You....uh, when you had lost control of your emotions because of the situation with Yoitsu, your apology at the end was...."
The hoarse voice of Horo that had uttered the word "Sorry" resounded next to Lawrence's ears. "...was because you had regained your senses...right?"
Horo stared at Lawrence. She even opened her mouth and revealed her sharp canines as she did so.
After unleashing a barrage of words filled with malice and distortion of the facts at Lawrence, Horo had immediately realized that she had gone too far.
After realizing this, Horo had not continued to act rashly.
She had immediately apologized to Lawrence, an apology that came from the heart.
She had not anticipated Lawrence to take her apology as the final word that sealed off her heart.
The moment he reflected back on the situation back then, Lawrence just wanted to hold his head and give a loud cry.
Because of Horo's apology, Lawrence had ceased the movement of the hand that was reaching forward.
If he had managed to say something to Horo back then, he might have still been able to save the situation, Lawrence thought to himself.
Yet, Horo must have been stupefied in that moment.
After all, Horo had truly been apologizing for the malevolent words she had uttered due to having lost control of her emotions, but not only had Lawrence not said a word, he had even backed out of the room. After that, the clever Horo must have immediately realized how Lawrence had misunderstood her intentions.
But even having realized this, to chase after Lawrence and explain how he had misunderstood her would have been totally absurd.
Most likely, Horo had meant for Lawrence to realize his own misunderstanding much earlier on from certain key points.
This was also the reason why she was so angry at the present moment. "You foolish mule!"
Horo stood up from the bed, and being unable to hold it in any longer, yelled out loudly: "The saying that 'A fool cannot come up with a good idea' refers exactly to you! Putting aside the fact that you completely laid waste to my efforts, you are even saying that I had been treating you as an enemy? Not only that, you just had to persist so stubbornly in the contract with that youngster. Do you have any idea how complicated this made things? Indeed, I have met you only recently, but it is my belief that you and I share a not-so-shallow bond. Is it simply wishful thinking on my part to think so? Or do you actually...."
"I want to continue traveling with you."
The distance between the desk and the bed was but a few steps.
Human and wolf, merchant and non-merchant were separated only by such a short distance. One would immediately be able to touch the other just by reaching out a hand.
Lawrence picked up Horo's hand, and found that it was trembling slightly.
"All along, my life has been filled with nothing but business, and I plan to continue pursuing such a lifestyle in the future. So, concerning things that are not related to business, you can just think of me as a slow-minded guy."
Horo's wrathful expression gradually changed to one of awkwardness. "But, it is truly my wish to travel with you," Lawrence continued. "Then, what am I to you?"
This was the question Lawrence had not been able to answer back then.
The present Lawrence however was able to answer it with absolute confidence: "It cannot be described in words."
Horo widened her eyes, erected her ears high, and thenAnd then, she looked at Lawrence as if frustrated with him almost to the point of crying, and said with a helpless smile: "What kind of poor, dry line is that?" "Isn't dried jerky your favorite?"
Horo opened her mouth to reveal two sharp canines and gave a laugh with her throat before bringing her mouth close to Lawrence's hand and saying: "I hate it."
Lawrence felt a sharp pain on the back of his palm, but he accepted it without complaint, thinking of it as his punishment.
"Although, I also have a question for you," he said. "Hmm?"
After biting Lawrence's hand with considerable force in order to convey her anger, Horo lifted her face and asked in exchange.
"How did you know the alchemists possessed pyrite...no, Amati had probably told you. Compared to that, I'm more interested in knowing how you managed to persuade Miss Deanna to sell you pyrite. I simply can't figure it out."
Hearing this, Horo looked out the window with an expression that seemed to say, "So that is what you wanted to ask."
By then, dusk had already arrived, and the second day's evening festival was getting ready to begin.
The festival activities of that day seemed to use the same puppets as the ones that had been used to battle one another since the previous night. About half the number of enormous, dog-like puppets had already lost their heads. Even from a distance, the weary appearance of the participants of the evening festival was readily apparent as they staggered along, some of them even stumbling to the ground bottoms-first.
In spite of their fatigue, the people still followed the sounds of the flutes and drums and did their best to form parading processions.
Horo pulled her gaze back to Lawrence, and motioned with her eyes for him to join her by the window. Lawrence had no reason to refuse, and thus approached the window.
"From the contents of the detailed reports that youngster Amati never failed to make to me, I more or less guessed what your plan was. However, I did not expect you to be able to come up with such an idea...concerning this point, I shall give you praise."
Horo leaned her back on Lawrence, and let her gaze fall on the festival.
Consequently, Lawrence was unable to see the expression on her face, but he felt that since he had received praise, he might as well receive it candidly.
"So, her name is Deanna, correct? Concerning that matter, I had gone to that person for some other purpose," said Horo.
"Some other purpose?"
"It would probably be more appropriate to say I had gone to request something of that person. I was able to find the location from the scent on the letter. However, the place carried a strong stink much like that found near hot springs. It was absolutely unbearable."
On one hand, Lawrence was surprised over Horo's incredible sense of smell. On the other hand, he also imagined how choking the experience must have been for her.
Then, Horo gave a soft sigh, and said without glancing at Lawrence: "I asked that doll whether she could fabricate a story suggesting the possibility that Yoitsu was still in existence somewhere, and pass the story on to you."
For a moment, Lawrence did not understand what he had heard. But he immediately realized Horo's intention.
If Lawrence had heard such a story from Deanna, he would surely have been able to take the initiative to speak to Horo more easily.
This would have created the ideal chance for Lawrence to take the first step in talking to Horo. "But."
Horo's tone of voice as she continued sounded all of a sudden displeased.
"That doll had me relate the entire course of events to her, only to refuse my request at the very end." "That...that's how it was huh?"
Lawrence remembered the "Good luck" Deanna had said to him as he was leaving her residence. Was that Deanna's way of making fun of him?
"The reason I was refused was you. You had better reflect long and hard on that." After getting his foot stomped on by Horo, Lawrence came back to his senses.
Yet, he did not understand Horo's meaning.
"Seriously...to think I actually went through the embarrassment of explaining the entire situation, and had been just one step away from succeeding in my request, only to have you show up all of a sudden, causing that doll to come up with such an unnecessary plan."
Lawrence was not even able to utter a "Huh?" So Horo had been present back then, he thought to himself. "That doll had actually dared to act as if she understood everything perfectly...and say it would be fine to put your resolve to the test."
Lawrence finally understood why Deanna had uttered a "Good luck" to him.
Yet, somehow he could not throw off the feeling that he had forgotten something important.
Just as Lawrence was trying to recall what it was that he had forgotten, Horo looked back at him with an annoyed expression and said: "I also heard every word of that stupid question of yours." "Ah!"
Lawrence exclaimed in a voice that sounded more like an agonized cry. Horo smiled mischievously and, spinning around to face Lawrence said: "I heard there are many legends involving humans and gods becoming a pair."
The smile Horo revealed as she hung her head down and lifted her gaze high looked very frightening.
The slender arm she had coiled around Lawrence's back reminded one of a venomous snake that never let off its prey.
"If that is what you have planned, I do not mind. However...."
The light that flowed in from outside the window dyed Horo's face red. "You have to be gentle, alright?"
Horo must really be a demon, Lawrence thought to himself half-seriously, but seeing Horo drop her act so easily, he could not help feeling a bit disappointed.
"I do not know why, but after having spoken to that doll, I just cannot seem to get my spirits up,"
Horo said with a weary appearance, but maintained the same posture, her arms around Lawrence as she gazed outside the window.
Horo's gaze was not on the festival, but fixed on some point far off in the distance. "Did you notice that that doll is not human?"
Lawrence was so surprised that he could not even utter a "How is that possible."
"Were there not a great number of feathers scattered on the floor of the room? Those belonged to that doll." "....Is that so?"
Now that Horo mentioned it, Lawrence recalled that Deanna had in fact reminded him of a bird when he saw her.
Horo nodded and continued: "That doll's true appearance is a bird greater than you in size. She once fell in love with a traveling cenobite, and together the two had spent many years working together to build a church. But no matter how many years went by, that doll would never age, and thus the cenobite grew suspicious. Surely you can guess how things developed after that?"
Perhaps he was just imagining things, but Lawrence seemed to feel Horo tighten the grip of her arms. Lawrence felt that he seemed to understand the reason Deanna collected ancient legends and protected the alchemists.
Yet it would have caused him great pain to speak the reason, and he believed that Horo would also not be willing to hear it.
Thus, Lawrence did not utter it.
Instead, he put an arm around Horo's slender shoulder.
"I wish to return to my hometown, even if...it is no longer in existence," said Horo. "Aye."
In the end, the giant human and dog puppets outside the window collided with each other, arousing a wave of cheers.
However, Lawrence immediately realized that the performance was not a simulation of battle.
Not one of the people controlling the puppets was not laughing cheerfully, and each member of the on-looking crowd had a beer mug in hand.
That was definitely not bashing each other, but the motion of putting an arm around each other's shoulder. Next, the people began to sing and dance, and the puppets were set on fire at the center of the crossroads. "Heheheh, the actions of humans sure are daring."
"Aye, it's quite a sight."
Although he was quite far away, Lawrence felt his face grow hot, seemingly as a result of the heat.
The people surrounded the flaming debris, which seemed as if it could easily obscure the moonlight, and cheered as they toasted one another.
Within the town of Kumerson, after a great dispute, the various humans and gods who had come from various places had once again settled down to banqueting and drinking to their hearts' content.
At long last, everyone had stopped confronting one another. "Let us go as well."
"Ah....sure?"
Yet, Horo did not make any movement. Perceiving Lawrence's confused expression, Horo lifted her face and said: "Me, I shall not mind it even if I have to be as passionate as the flames that consume those puppets. What about you?"
The puppets that had been set on fire began gradually to collapse into one pile.
Despite being mocked, Lawrence maintained a smile and answered: "I should just be able to manage while I'm still drunk."
Horo opened her mouth and laughed, revealing her sharp canines. Wagging her tail excitedly, she spoke in a tone that could not be any happier: "If you were to become drunk as well, who would be left to take care of me? You foolish mule!" Lawrence took the hand of the smiling Horo, and walked out of the room.
A clamorous night had once again descended upon Kumerson.
However, after some time had passed, a rumor began to spread in town that on that night, a true goddess had walked amongst the crowds.
This file was created with BookDesigner program
bookdesigner@the-ebook.org
24/09/2011
LRS to LRF parser v.0.9; Mikhail Sharonov, 2006; msh-tools.com/ebook/

