Spice & Wolf II (7 page)

Holo looked away, purposefully letting a small sigh escape.

Lawrence, at a loss for words, glared sourly at the wolf girl that sat beside him and wondered how to retort.

He imagined that if he was stubborn and demanded that she pay him now and go on her merry way, Holo would really do it—and that wasn’t what Lawrence wanted. This was where he’d have to cry uncle.

There really wasn’t anything charming about Holo.

Lawrence stared at her, furiously trying to think of a comeback, but Holo looked away from him obstinately.

Some time passed.

“...We didn’t decide the due date for repayment. Just as long as I get it by the time we arrive in the north country. Will that do?”

Some part of Lawrence was still stubborn. He simply couldn’t let the cheeky wolf girl have everything she wanted. This was as far as he could give in.

Holo seemed to understand that. She slowly turned toward him and smiled, satisfied.

“I should think I’ll be able to repay you by the time we’ve arrived in the north country,” she said purposefully, drawing near him. “And it’s my intention to pay you back with interest, which means the more I borrow, the greater profit for you. So you’ll do it for me, yes?”

Holo’s eyes met Lawrence’s as she looked up at him.

They were beautiful eyes with red-brown irises.

“The oil, you mean?”

“Yes. Make it part of my debt, but please—buy it for me, won’t you?”

The plea was strangely rational, and Lawrence couldn’t think of a good rejoinder.

All he could do was slump his head sideways as if exhausted.

“My thanks,” said Holo, brushing against Lawrence’s arm like a cat asking for affection—which wasn’t a bad feeling at all.

He knew that was what Holo wanted, and it was an unavoidable part of his long, lonely time as a traveling merchant.

“Still, you really did haggle him down, didn’t you?” asked Holo, attending once more to her tail as she reclined against Lawrence.

This particular wolf could sense lies, so Lawrence didn’t bother lying and answered truthfully. “Rather he put himself in the position of having no choice but to be haggled down.”

Yet the interest rate on the arms was not good. The most profitable method would be to import the materials and then assemble and sell the weapons. As far as the business of selling completed weapons went, simply by going somewhere with a constant demand for large amounts of weaponry and turning a fair profit, the amount by which the goods could be bargained down was limited.

Lawrence headed to Ruvinheigen for that very same fair profit.

“How much?”

“What’s the point of asking that?”

Holo glanced up at Lawrence from her position leaning against him and then looked quickly away.

At which point Lawrence more or less understood.

Despite her forcing of the oil issue, she was actually quite concerned about his profits.

“What? I was just worried about sponging off a traveling merchant, who is barely scraping by. That is all.”

Lawrence tapped Holo’s head lightly at the nasty comment.

“Weapons are the best-selling product in Ruvinheigen, but many merchants bring them into the city. Thus, the interest rate on them drops, and the amount I could bargain him down is limited.”

“But you bought so much, you’ll yet come out ahead, yes?”

The wagon bed was not full, strictly speaking, but it was well laden. The goods were solid, and though the interest was low, in comparison to Lawrence’s initial investment, the actual amount of material was nice indeed. The fact that he was getting double the material for his investment was icing on the cake. Like the saying goes, “One raindrop raises the sea,” and so Lawrence’s gain might be second only to his profit from the pepper.

In truth, the proceeds would be enough to buy more apples than would fit in the wagon bed, to say nothing of oil, but if Lawrence told Holo that there was no telling what demands she might make—so he held his tongue.

Holo, blissfully ignorant, simply groomed her tail.

Looking at her, Lawrence couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty.

"Well, I should think we’ll make enough to pay for some oil, anyway,” he said.

Holo nodded, apparently satisfied.

“Still, now that I think about it, some spice would be quite tasty,”

Lawrence murmured, as he estimated the likely gain against the cost of the weapons.

“You’ve eaten it?”

“I’m not like you, you glutton. I’m talking about the profit.”

“Hmph. Well, why don’t you load up on spice again, then?”

“The prices in Ruvinheigen and Poroson aren’t so very different. I’d take a loss after paying the tariff.”

“Then give it up, I say,” said Holo shortly, nibbling the tip of her tail.

“If I could get a rate about like what I’d normally get for spices or maybe a little more, I’d make enough to open a shop.”

Saving enough money to open his own shop was Lawrence’s dream. Though he’d made a sizable amount in the kerfuffle in Pazzio, the goal remained distant.

“Surely there’s something,” said Holo. “Say...jewels or gold. Those are sure things, no?”

“Ruvinheigen is not a profitable place for such things really.”

Perhaps catching a bit of fluff in her nose, Holo gave a small sneeze as she licked her fur. “...Why’s that?” she asked.

“The tariff is too high. It’s protectionism. They levy serious taxes on all but a certain group of merchants. There’s no business to be had there.”

Towns that weakened the foundation of commerce with this kind of protectionism were not uncommon.

But Ruvinheigen’s policy was aimed at turning monopolistic profits. Gold brought to the Church in Ruvinheigen could be stamped with the Church’s holy seal, and such gold would bring safe travels, happiness in the future, or triumph in battle, all by the grace of God. There was even gold for guaranteeing happiness in the afterlife, and it all sold for exorbitant prices.

The Church Council that controlled Ruvinheigen colluded with the merchants under their power to preserve the monopoly, so taxes on gold entering the city were terrifying and punishments for smuggling harsh.

“Huh.”

“If we somehow smuggled gold in, we’d be able to sell it for, oh, ten times what we paid. But the danger rises with the profit, so I've no choice but to make money bit by bit.”

Lawrence shrugged, thinking wistfully of the end of his road.

In a city like Ruvinheigen, there were plenty of merchants who made in a single day what Lawrence had spent his entire life si riving for.

It seemed unfair—no, worse than unfair, it was downright strange.

“Oh truly?” came Holo’s unexpected reply.

“Do you have some idea otherwise?”

This was Holo the Wisewolf, after all. She might have come up with some unheard-of scheme.

Lawrence turned to her expectantly. Pausing in her grooming for a moment, Holo looked up at him.

“Why don’t you just sneak it in?”

If she was always this foolish it would be charming, thought Lawrence to himself upon hearing her suggestion.

“If that were possible, everyone would do it.”

“Oh, so you can’t do that.”

“When tariffs go up, smuggling does, too—it’s a basic principle. Their inspections are very thorough.”

“Surely a small amount wouldn’t be found.”

“If they do find anything, they’ll cut off your hand at the very least. It’s not worth the risk. It would be worth it if you were bringing a larger amount in...but that’s impossible.”

Holo smoothed her tail fur and nodded, satisfied with her grooming. Lawrence couldn’t see much difference, but apparently Holo had her standards.

“Mm, ’tis true,” she said. “Well, your business is steady enough. It is well as long as you make steady coin.”

“Right you are, but I seem to have a certain companion bent on wasting that same steady coin.”

Holo yawned, pretending not to hear the gibe as she squirmed to hide her tail. She rubbed her eyes and crept back to her place in the wagon bed.

Lawrence had not been terribly serious. He stopped following Holo’s movements and looked to the road ahead. Trying to talk to her once she decided to sleep was an exercise in futility, so he abandoned the prospect.

For a while he could hear the clattering of weapons as she pushed them aside to make a place to nap, but soon silence returned, and he heard her sigh contentedly.

Lawrence glanced back and saw her curled into a ball, just like a dog or cat. He couldn’t help smiling.

He couldn’t very well say what he thought for many reasons, but he did want her to stay with him.

As Lawrence pondered this, Holo suddenly spoke.

“I forgot to say it earlier, but the wine we got from the master—I’ve no intention of drinking it all myself. This evening we must drink together—and enjoy that mutton, too.”

Mildly surprised, Lawrence turned to look at her, but she was already curled back up.

But this time, she was smiling.

Lawrence looked ahead, holding the reins, and drove the horse carefully, so as not to shake the wagon any more than he had to.

Chapter 2

The rolling hills ended, replaced by undulations in the landscape that barely rated the term, which made for easy traveling.

Lawrence hadn’t yet shaken the effects of the previous night’s wine, so the easy road suited him just fine.

With a companion to partake of the fine wine and food, he had overindulged. If he’d had to navigate a mountain trail in his current state, he would likely have tumbled straight to the bottom of the valley.

But here, there wasn’t so much as a river, let alone a valley, so

Lawrence could safely leave the horse to simply follow the road.

Occasionally he would nod off for a brief moment, and in the wagon bed Holo was sound asleep, snoring away without a care in the world. Every time Lawrence started awake, he thanked God for such peaceful times.