Spice & Wolf IV (3 page)

Bread’s quality could be easily determined with a single bite. A taste was far more effective than the grandest tale of a sack of flour’s supposed quality.

“Ha-ha-ha. All us merchants think so. It’s a sore spot with the town bakers!” declared Riendott.

“Ah, so the bakers here are tough, are they?”

“Aye, and how. If anyone besides the bakers begins selling bread, they’ll come running, stone rolling pins brandished high!”

Merchants bought and sold, and bakers baked—this division of labor could be found anywhere in the world.

It was a reality, though, that if a merchant was to take over the entire process, from buying wheat to baking bread, the profits would be substantial.

As it was, the process between harvesting wheat to selling baked bread was long and involved many different people.

“Well then—God go with us,” said Lawrence.

“Indeed. I look forward to your future patronage.”

Lawrence gave Riendott a smile and a nod, and then he and Holo put the shop behind them.

Though Lawrence was mildly disappointed about not selling off the wheat, he was more concerned with Holo’s ominous silence.

“You didn’t say anything this time,” he said casually.

Holo’s reply was quick. “That miller, he said Tereo was a half day’s journey from here, yes?”

“Huh? Oh yes, he did.”

“So if we leave now, we can be there by nightfall,” said Holo, being strangely confrontational.

Lawrence leaned away from the tone of her voice. “I was thinking it would be nice to rest. You’re tired yourself, are you not?”

“If it’s rest you need, we can rest in Tereo. If we’re going, I’d prefer to go sooner.”

Lawrence finally realized the reason for her unusually obstinate tone.

Though she rarely spoke about it, Holo clearly wanted to meet this monk who collected tales of pagan gods as soon as she possibly could.

Holo was stubborn and could be strangely proud.

She would consider it beneath her dignity to be constantly urging Lawrence to hurry.

But with their destination so close, the embers that smoldered in her chest were turning to blazing flames.

No doubt she
was
tired. The fact that she urged him on nonetheless proved how desperate her need for knowledge was.

“All right, then. But let’s have a hot meal first? Surely you won’t mind that.”

Holo looked stunned at Lawrence’s statement. “Need you even ask?”

Lawrence grinned—just as surely as Holo’s stomach growled.

Just when it seemed that the gently rolling hills would never end, the landscape shifted—here it appeared that God had taken a more active hand in the molding of the terrain.

The undulating geography was like bread dough, carelessly folded over upon itself. A river flowed through the valley between the mounds, and here and there were lush stands of woods.

The wagon on which the pair rode made little creaking sounds as it bumped along the road following the river.

Lawrence looked over at Holo, wondering if he should have forced her to rest while they were in Enberch.

Between nightfall and dawn, the chill of winter made deep sleep difficult. One was always waking, then sleeping, and then awake yet again. Though Holo’s true form was lupine, as a maiden she seemed to possess a maiden’s constitution.

The long journey could not have been anything but difficult for her.

She leaned against Lawrence, asleep, looking utterly exhausted.

He considered asking for lodgings at the monastery.

It was possible that the accommodations would be plain, which Holo might grumble at...As Lawrence considered the matter, he noticed that the river was beginning to widen.

The river wound around a slope ahead so he could not see where it led. The basin was certainly widening, though, and the flow slowing.

And then a certain unmistakable sound reached his ears.

Lawrence immediately understood what lay ahead.

Holo’s keen wolf ears picked up the noise as well. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and looked out from under her hood.

Tereo was close.

Just where the river’s flow slowed to a stop, forming a small pond ahead, a snug little waterwheel and millhouse were situated.

“If there’s a waterwheel here, we must be close.”

In places where water was limited, people would store it up, and then use the elevation change to power the waterwheel.

Owing to the lack of water, the method worked for only so long—and with the harvest complete, the time when a line of villagers had waited to grind their grain at the millhouse was past.

At the moment, the blackened, river weed-tinged millhouse merely sat there, forlorn.

Just as Lawrence drew near enough to the mill that he could begin to make out the grain of the wood from which it was constructed, a shadow leaped out from inside.

Surprised, Lawrence pulled back on the reins. His cart horse let out a disgruntled whinny, shaking its head from side to side.

It was a young man who had rushed out. His sleeves were rolled up despite the cold weather, and his arms were white with Hour.

“Whoa—whoa there! Say, are you a traveler?” inquired the youth, coming around in front of the cart before Lawrence could either voice his irritation or continue along his way.

“...I suppose if you put it that way, aye, a traveler I am. And you?”

Though he was a boy, the youth could not have been more different from Amati, the lad against whom Lawrence had sparred in the marketplace a week earlier. The boy in front of him was slender but had a sturdiness born of physical labor. He was about Lawrence’s height with the black hair and eyes that were common in the northlands. He looked strong enough that Lawrence imagined him wielding an oxbow. His black hair was haphazardly dusted with flour.

Asking this flour-dusted boy, who had just emerged from a millhouse, who he was would be like standing before a baker’s stall filled with bread and asking what was for sale.

“Ha, well, as you can see, I’m a miller. So, where’d you come from? You don’t look like you’re from Enberch.”

Lawrence found the boy’s carefree smile rather childish.

He inwardly guessed the boy to be six or seven years his junior, and he was suddenly wary of Holo catching yet another hapless pup’s eye—creating yet another mess for Lawrence to clean up.

“As you might guess, I’ve a question for you,” said Lawrence. “How much longer will it take to make the town of Tereo?”

“The
town
...of Tereo?” repeated the youth, stunned for a moment. He then grinned and continued. “If Tereo’s a town, then Enberch is the royal capital! I don’t know what brings you out there, but Tereo’s a tiny smear of a village. Just look at this pitiful millhouse!”

Lawrence was vaguely surprised by the lad’s words until he remembered that like Holo, Diana (who had given him the information about the town) was hundreds of years old. In her time, Tereo may well have been the largest, busiest town in the region. Decline was hardly rare.

Lawrence nodded and posed his question again. “So how far, then?”

“It’s just ahead. Of course, it’s not like there’s a grand wall surrounding the place—you could even say you’re already
in
Tereo.”

“I see. Well, thank you,” Lawrence said shortly, guessing that left to his own devices, the lad would probably continue his rant.

Lawrence flicked the reins and began to ease the wagon around t he boy, who became flustered and quickly moved to block the wagon’s path. “H-hey now, don’t be in such a hurry, eh, kind traveler?” With the youth’s arms blocking the none-too-wide path, there was no way for Lawrence to get by.

It would have been easy enough to force his way past, but if the lad was injured, it would hardly leave a good first impression on the people of Tereo.

Lawrence sighed. “What business have you, then?”

“Ah, er—well...Ah! Your companion—she’s quite the beauty!” Holo, her head covered by the hood she wore, suppressed a chuckle, though her tail wagged her amusement.

Lawrence might feel the occasional frisson of superiority thanks to his charming companion, but lately his worries over the trouble she seemed to attract outweighed those brief flashes of pleasure.

“She is a nun on pilgrimage. Will that do? Only a tax collector can block the path of a merchant, sir.”

“A-a nun?” The youth’s surprise at the unexpected word was obvious.

Given the grand church at the center of Enberch, it seemed unlikely that the tiny village of Tereo would be entirely pagan. Even in the northern regions of Ploania, a pagan village would need considerable defenses to resist a nearby Church stronghold like Enberch.

Surely there was a church in Tereo—so why would the youth be surprised?

As Lawrence thought on it, the youth noticed his contemplative state. It seemed he was more concerned about Lawrence than Holo.

“Understood, traveler. I won’t obstruct you any further. But listen to my words—you’d best not bring a nun into Tereo.”

“Oh?”

It did not seem to Lawrence that the lad was joking.

Just to be sure, he nudged Holo beneath the blankets to get her appraisal. She nodded quickly under her hood, confirming his assessment.

“Why might that be? We’ve come with business at the Church in Tereo. Surely if there’s a church, there’s no reason for a nun not to enter the village. Or is there no—”

“N-no, there is surely a church. But the reason...there’s a bit of a fight, you see. With an unpleasant lot from the Church in Enberch.” The youth’s expression was sharp, like a newly trained mercenary.

The unexpected force of the youth’s gaze took Lawrence momentarily by surprise, but then he remembered the lad was just a miller.

“So, that is how it is. How should I say it...? If a nun were to arrive now, things could become complicated. That is why I’d rather you didn’t go.” Putting away his hostility, the youth was now suddenly the picture of good-natured concern—but still, there was something strange about him.

Given that he did not seem to bear Lawrence and Holo any particular ill will, Lawrence decided not to question him further.