Thick pieces of carp swam in the soup along with the bread. Holo kept her mouth open as she breathed to cool herself down, taking a swig of her juice to help. Then she licked her lips and raised her head.
“Then it has nothing to do with us, no? We have no cargo. I do not mind this place, but I would prefer to idle my time away in a larger city.”
“Yeah…but it could also be bait.”
“Bait?”
“A rumor to lure people in, and then… Chomp.”
Walls that surround a city do not only protect those inside from outside enemies. They also prevent those inside from escaping. Cities that wanted to fill their war chests, for example, often forced visiting merchants to pay exorbitant travel fees if they wished to leave the city. Many would reluctantly pay the high tax, knowing it was preferable to getting caught up in a war. It was entirely possible that the local officials wanted to lure merchants into the city for precisely that reason.
What sat in Holo’s spoon were fish that just so happened to get caught in traps lying at the bottom of the river—and just so happened to become ingredients for soup.
Holo’s gaze drifted to the sky in thought as she brought the morsel to her mouth.
“Mm. Sounds plausible.”
“So, how about we stay out of danger and head south by land instead?”
Holo frowned at the suggestion. That was the face of someone who was actively recalling the pain in her tail that came from sitting on a rickety cart and comparing it to the comforts of boat travel.
“If we manage to reach the Roef River, we could then catch another boat to Kerube.”
“Kerube… The name is familiar.”
“That’s where they caught the narwhal, remember? The sea creature whose horn is supposed to grant eternal life if you grind it into a powder and drink it.”
Holo lifted her chin and gave a cheerless nod.
A being that lived longer than any human likely had complicated feelings about things that supposedly offered eternal life. Or perhaps she recalled the conflict involving the absolute greediest merchants they had met in their travels together.
“The good old Rowen Trade Guild is in Kerube. We could say hello to all those who helped us while we were getting the bathhouse set up. It should also be easier to get information on Myuri and Col there.”
Their only daughter Myuri and the boy who both worked in the bathhouse and doted on Myuri like an older brother were making quite a name for themselves. Lawrence and Holo had flippantly assumed the kids would be easy to find because of that, but it turned out to be a surprisingly impossible task because they had become too famous. There were many rumors about them, ranging from miracles performed on a mountaintop to plagues cured in some distant town.
However, Lawrence expected companies with trading houses spread across multiple cities to have more accurate information.
“Hmm. That is the river on which we found little Col, and the city beyond that, no? ’Tis quite a long way away.”
“Yeah, the route isn’t a straight shot from here to there, so it’d probably be three—no, we’re not going there for trade, so we can take it slow—meaning it’d be more like five, maybe six days by cart… I don’t really know this area very well.”
Holo’s complaints might have been aggravating if Lawrence himself had not become rather accustomed to the bathhouse life. His back would immediately start hurting on the hard driver’s perch of a cart. They would have to look up the roads, make stops, take rests, and everything else. It would probably take even longer.
Either way, they were starting to see signs that the plans for their tranquil little journey were about to fall apart, and Holo slurped her soup loudly in protest.
“I shan’t say no if you choose to ride on my back.”
Holo, in her wolf form, could probably get there in one night.
“What about the horse?”
“…Horsemeat is sweet but goes surprisingly well with strong liquor.”
Lawrence, unsure how genuine her joke was, simply sighed and sipped his wine.
“Personally, I want to wait and see what happens for just a little longer.”
“Mm?”
“I don’t know what the city down there’s thinking, but if they really do lower taxes, then it’d be better if we get all our nonessentials over there, right? We’ve had a lot of customers at the bathhouse recently who aren’t nobility who have also been complaining when they have to forgo luxuries from the south.”
Holo regarded him coolly, like he was a fool sharing his dreams of becoming rich.
“You are a male who never learns his lesson. We leave matters to the rabbit and his company. Do you not remember when you ordered wheat from a new place and ended up swindled with cheap product?”
The Debau Company, where a certain rabbit spirit acted as head clerk, was a reliable liaison for the Spice and Wolf bathhouse when they needed to order more supplies.
As for the wheat incident, it was Holo and Myuri who had sniffed out that cheap rye grain had been mixed in with the expensive wheat, which allowed them to escape the worst.
“Oops. But if I never learn, then should I tell you why you had such a hard time waking up this morning?”
Holo pursed her lips into a thin line, but she did not kick him.
The moment Lawrence was convinced she had finally started regretting the excessive drinking because of her terrible hangover, he sensed someone approach their table. He looked up.
Standing there was a man wearing the clothes of a farmer, a thin hat clutched in his hands, offering both of them a hesitant smile.
✦ ✦ ✦
“You must be Sir Kraft Lawrence and his honorable wife, yes?”
It was hard to say the man was dressed finely, and his overly polite language was rather odd, but it was immediately clear that he knew who they were, because what he offered along with his greeting was a small cask of alcohol that could fit under one’s arm.
Even though Holo had at last gotten over her hangover, her eyes glimmered as she reached out to take the cask with great delight.
“Heh-heh… Mmm, this is good quality mead! Aye, if you’ve a need to speak with us, go on, then.”
Obviously, when she said us, she really meant Lawrence.
Lawrence sighed and turned his attention to the farmer.
He was farmer-like in the sense that he dressed like one, but his demeanor was unusually refined, and he seemed quite comfortable offering mead in greeting.
Lawrence thought back on all the people he had met in trade, yet he did not find the face familiar.
“Pardon me, but have we met before?”
“No, this is our first meeting. But I heard of your undertakings in Salonia.”
Lawrence nodded.
He had gotten a little too excited in Salonia and had become a bit of a celebrity there.
It was nice that they were able to eat and drink all they liked and had a grand time overall, but the attention they garnered had caused unexpected waves.
“I know you are in the middle of your travels, but please, I hope you will listen to what I have to say.”
His polite language and the way he sank to one knee to make his plea told Lawrence that despite his appearance, this man often interacted with those of higher status.
But he was much too young to be a mayor, and somehow they could tell that he was no normal villager. Lawrence rifled through all the knowledge he had gained in his past travels as a merchant as he carefully studied the man’s belongings. He noted a simple hatchet and a small bow. And the way he adroitly prepared a flask of fine mead for Holo told Lawrence everything he needed to know.
“What could a forest ranger possibly need from us?”
The man’s eyes widened in surprise and a bright smile burst across his face moments later.
“So this is the great mind of Sir Lawrence, Salonia’s problem solver! Please, we need your help!”
As much as Lawrence wanted to tell him that this journey was meant for him and his wife alone, Holo was already happily nursing her mead. It sure must be nice knowing she’s not the one who’ll be taking care of this problem, Lawrence thought. Then another possibility occurred to him.
It was very likely that she had smelled the earth and the trees on this man and immediately known he was someone who worked in the forest. Just like how Lawrence was enticed by many get-rich-quick schemes, Holo loved the forest beyond all else, so she had likely engineered this so Lawrence would offer an ear to a troubled forest dweller. And if she received mead as a bonus, then all the better.
This meant that if he were to turn this man away, Lawrence knew he would be once again exiled from the bed and forced to sleep alone on the floor.
“I would be glad to,” Lawrence replied, already feeling tired.
The man was delighted and Holo gave a satisfied nod.