Spice & Wolf IV (31 page)

“Bountiful harvest? Does that...Are you then Truyeo’s—”

“The answer to that question is already within you.”
Holo bared her teeth, perhaps in some approximation of a rueful grin.

Elsa ducked her head in a slight nod. “Truyeo is Truyeo. You are you.”

Holo half laughed and half sighed, and the dry leaves at her feet danced in the air.

Her amber eyes were filled with a kindness Lawrence had never seen.

If gods did exist, surely they were something like this with eyes that inspired reverence but not fear.

Elsa looked up.

"...If that is true, then—”

“The question you would ask”.
said Holo, her tail brushing audibly across the leaves.

Elsa swallowed her words but still looked up at Holo.

"…
It should not be asked of me,”
Holo finished.

Instantly Elsa’s face twisted, a tear rolling down her right cheek.

Evan took that as a sign. He rushed to her side and embraced her.

Elsa sniffed a few times, nodding her head as if to show that she was, in fact, well. She sighed, the breath escaping whitely from her mouth.

“I am Father Franz’s successor. That much I can say for certain.”

“Oh, indeed?”

Elsa smiled at Holo’s purely rhetorical question.

It was a fresh smile, the result of tossing aside a heavy burden.

Perhaps she had realized Father Franz’s true aim in collecting stories of the pagan gods.

No—she had probably known long ago when Father Franz
had
told her of his secret cellar.

She had simply refused to understand.

It was just as Iima had said.

The world was vast, but the villagers’ minds were narrow.

Elsa had come to realize that vastness. Her next words came naturally.

“I’m returning to the village.”

Wha—,” came Evan’s strangled reply.

Before he could say anything more, Elsa unwrapped the blanket she wore and thrust it into his hands.

“I am sorry, Mr. Lawrence.”

While he was not sure for what precisely she was apologizing,
it
seemed an appropriate statement nonetheless.

Lawrence nodded, saying nothing.

Evan’s acceptance, however, would be harder won.

“What’s the point in going back to the village?! Even if you
do,
it’s already too late for—”

“And yet I must.”

“Why?!”

Evan took a step toward her, but Elsa was unmoved. "I am responsible for the church. I cannot abandon the villagers."

Evan reeled as though he had been physically struck. He
staggered
back.

“Evan—be a fine merchant, will you?”

Elsa finally pushed him away, then dashed off in the direction of the village.

Running at a woman’s pace and taking rests, she would probably reach Tereo by evening.

Though he didn’t wish to think about it, Lawrence knew all too well what waited for her when she arrived.

“Mr. L-Lawrence.” Evan looked devastated and on the verge of tears.

Lawrence was astonished by Elsa’s words. “It seems she wants you to be a fine merchant.”

“...!” Evan’s face twisted in fury; he seemed ready to fly at Lawrence.

Yet Lawrence continued coolly. “A merchant must be able to logically weigh gain against loss. Can you do that?”

Evan looked like a child seeing an optical illusion for the first time. He stopped in his tracks.

“No matter how stout of heart she may be, no matter how firm her resolve, that doesn’t mean she is never uncertain.” Lawrence shrugged and continued. “Merchants must weigh gain against loss. You want to be a merchant, do you not?”

Evan clenched his teeth, closing his eyes and squeezing his fists.

He tossed the supplies he was carrying aside, then turned and ran.

Lawrence sensed Holo approaching from behind. He turned. “So, what shall we—,” he began but was unable to finish.

His body was knocked to the ground as easily as a withered tree by Holo’s massive paw.

“Was I wrong?”

Holo’s paw pressed down against Lawrence’s chest, two of her claws making grinding noises as they pierced the earth next to Lawrence’s head.

“Was I wrong?”
she asked again, her eyes burning red, her teeth bared and close.

Lawrence could feel himself sinking into the soft ground.

If she put even a bit more weight on him, she would crush rib cage.

Still, he managed to force a few words out. “Who...who can judge such a thing?”

Holo shook her great head.
“I cannot. Still, I...I
...”

“If you fight for your home, even against hopeless odds..." Lawrence put his hand on Holo’s paw. “...At least you’ll have
no
regrets.”

Lawrence felt Holo bristle.

He was going to be crushed.

Just as fear was about to overcome rational thought, Holo's form vanished.

If someone had told Lawrence he’d been dreaming, he would have believed the person.

Holo’s small hand grasped his neck softly, her light body atop his. “My claws can crush boulders. I can defeat any number
of
humans.”

“As I well know.”

“None in Yoitsu can best me. Not human, wolf, deer, or boar."

“What of a bear?” Lawrence did not refer to an ordinary bear. “Could I have matched the Moon-Hunting Bear?” It was
not
sadness that kept her from crying, but anger.

Lawrence did not spare her feelings. “Surely not.”

At that moment, Holo raised her right hand, which had
previously
held Lawrence’s throat. “At least it would have been a
great
battle. At least the tale of Yoitsu could’ve amounted to three pages in Father Franz’s books.”

Her hand fell weakly against Lawrence’s chest.

“I don’t know whether that is true. Still, this is all hypothetical. Am I wrong?” said Lawrence.

“...You are not,” said Holo, lightly hitting his chest yet again. “If shortly after you left Yoitsu, you had heard that the Moon-Hunting Bear was coming, I’ve no doubt you would have rushed back. But that is not what happened. We don’t know how much time passed between when you left and disaster came to Yoitsu, but in any case it happened while you could not have known of it.”

Holo had seen Elsa’s thoughts.

Should she abandon her village? Or should she fight on despite being shunned, despite there being no chance of victory? This was the choice Elsa faced.

Holo had never been given that choice—by the time she learned of her village’s fate, it was all over.

What would Holo have felt, seeing Elsa thus?

She would have wanted Elsa to choose the path of least regret.

But by doing so Elsa made Holo see with perfect clarity the path she herself had never been able to take.

“I cannot abandon the villagers,” Elsa had said—but to Holo, those words crossed time and space, accusing her.

So it was that Lawrence came at her from the same time and place. “The fact that you’re not crying shows that you yourself understand how foolish it is to feel this way.”

“I—!” Holo bared her sharp teeth, eyes red with anger.

But Lawrence was unworried as he let Holo sit there on his chest. He brushed aside a bit of mulch that remained from when she had pushed him over.

“I know that,” she finished.

Lawrence sighed and propped himself up on his elbows.

Still straddling him, Holo looked away like a scolded child.

She slid stiffly to one side, moving her legs together to sit on Lawrence’s right leg, finally offering her hand.

Lawrence took it and sat up, pulling his body from where it had half sunk into the soft earth. He sighed, fatigue showing on his face.

“What excuse were you going to give Elsa and Evan if
they'd
returned?”

The still-unclothed Holo turned away from Lawrence. “What do you mean, what excuse?”

“For killing me.”

Holo gave a rare look of genuine embarrassment, then wrinkled her nose. “Were I a human female, you’d have no cause
to
complain if I killed you.”

“I’d have no
ability
to complain, being dead.”

Holo looked so cold that Lawrence wanted to hold her
simply
to warm her up. She looked up at his face and waited for him
to
continue.

“What do you wish to do?” he asked.

“That’s what I should ask you.”

Holo’s quick retort took him by surprise. He looked up
at
the sky.

Even now, Holo was still Holo.

She would always be grabbing the reins.

Lawrence embraced her. “Just you wait,” he said as payback
for
that ever-present rein grabbing.

She shifted slightly in his embrace. “Can we not do something for them?” she asked, obviously referring to Elsa, Evan, and the village of Tereo. “Yoitsu can no longer be saved, but this village might yet be.”

“I’m a simple traveling merchant.”