Lawrence joined the old priest in morning prayer, said a word of thanks as he munched on the stale bread that sat on the altar as an offering to God, then entered Meyer’s care.
After a simple meal with the old priest, the ranger brought some freshly baked bread from the village’s communal kiln, which was likely the standard way they treated their ruling lord when he stayed in the village.
“I also thought there must be something I could show you to help you, Sir Lawrence,” Meyer said to him, smiling at Holo as they walked around the village in the early hours, watching her bite into a loaf as big as her head.
“So…you’d like to see the village smithy?”
Though it seemed as though he wanted to suggest that visiting the village market or the wheat fields might bring them closer to the core of the problem, Lawrence only nodded in response.
“Of course.”
Meyer looked worried that Lawrence might not fully grasp what the mayor told him the day before, but Lawrence had business in the smithy. Unable to turn him down, Meyer led the two of them into the forest.
A smithy used a great amount of water and wood, so many of them were often situated among the trees.
“And yes, last night, the father was gracious enough to allow me to study a map of the area. If that map is to be trusted, then I believe Lord Tonneburg’s decision was a sound one.”
Meyer nodded.
Lawrence continued, “Am I correct in assuming that the port of Karlan is desperate to build a road headed inland so that it may develop further?”
“You are. Karlan has a good port, but their only lifeline to the rest of the continent is the river you traveled a few days past, all because these woods sit in the way. But…” Meyer faltered as a herd of sheep and goats cut across their path.
The villager following the livestock offered Meyer a polite greeting—it was likely they were about to venture into the forest.
“I question whether people would use a road that cuts through the forest in the first place, in all honesty.”
The mayor might have been different, but Meyer was not only thinking of the forest’s devastation, but also possible mistakes in Lord Tonneburg’s calculations.
“You don’t think profits will be as high as what Karlan has promised Lord Tonneburg?”
Said lord was expecting quite a tidy profit from various sources in exchange for cutting down the valuable forest. Merchants from Karlan would use the new road, and the tolls levied from their passage were projected to be very lucrative indeed.
“A path through the woods will seem convenient at first, yes. One can get on near the stream at the southern edge of the forest, then travel all the way to the Roef River. But there are no towns of note along the way, and even though the larger cities of Kerube and Lenos sit down and upriver respectively, Lenos is more akin to Kerube’s loyal servant, and Kerube is like a mean-spirited older brother to Karlan. They are both port cities who deal in similar goods.”
That reminded Lawrence of the rope analogy he gave Holo the night before.
Towns had their own commercial areas, and those territories were comparable to the turf of cats and dogs.
There was a limited supply for exported and imported goods, and the one who could secure the most was the winner.
“Kerube will not take kindly to Karlan trying to intrude on their territory. And the reason Karlan does not want to use a road on the western edge of the forest, one that passes near the sea, is because that would put them inside Kerube territory, and the disputes over tariffs would be endless.”
All that Lawrence had guessed after analyzing the map was mostly correct.
And Meyer, too, seemed to believe that Karlan was perfectly aware of all of this.
If that was true, then the kind Lord Tonneburg was being duped, and he would wind up with the short end of the stick.
Meyer’s sharp hunter’s eyes had latched onto that possibility.
“But I am no merchant. If I were to say such a thing, my lord would not heed my warning. It would be like me giving advice on how to fish in the ocean—hardly convincing.”
Who said what was extremely important.
“And the forest undergrowth and wheat are topics far too mystifying for him. Only those who spend most of their time among the trees, within the fields, and beneath the vast sky will understand.”
Trade and commerce helped reveal many of the invisible chains that linked everything together. Lawrence, too, could practically feel the physical sensation of what Meyer spoke beneath his fingers—he understood the concepts well enough. And more importantly, Holo herself was a forest dweller.
But Lawrence did not feel particularly pessimistic, despite what Meyer was saying. He was rather confident that, if he acted on what he thought about as he petted Holo’s tail the previous night, then he could plant the seed of doubt in Lord Tonneburg.
As they followed Meyer’s lead away from the village, there was an abrupt stop in the line of buildings, and the trees grew thick. After they climbed a gentle slope, they found themselves in the deep forest.
The paths around the village were comprised of packed earth, ones where a single pebble would stand out sorely. But it was soon grass that cushioned their footsteps, which then became a carpet of humus. And there was yet another layer of dried foliage on top of that, which made them feel like they were walking on clouds.
The air was moist in the morning forest; if Lawrence closed his eyes, he could easily picture himself back in Nyohhira. But the scent here was different. When that thought crossed his mind, he heard a rustle of leaves above him, and when he looked up, he spotted a squirrel running along the branches of the trees. A foolish little mouse darted out from beneath the dried leaves at his feet, rushing to hide in a nearby tree. This forest was teeming with much more life than the ones surrounding Nyohhira.
They walked for a while, and Lawrence spoke with Meyer along the way, but when Meyer went ahead to check the roads just as he did the day before, Holo murmured, “’Tis a good forest.”
“This apparently used to be a river.”
The path, carefully cleared of trees, was more sunken into the ground that the rest of the earth around it. Whenever it rained, the water slowly scraped away at the ground, forming a ditch, and even the river that formed as a result could change its flow as a result of fallen trees and leaf accumulation. At some point, Holo had told him in the deep mountains of Nyohhira that the forest was everchanging, and he could see that the Tonneburg Woods were undoubtedly full of life.
According to what Meyer said, the Tonneburg Woods and its environs had a lot of springwater, and it was likely due to that there were a lot of undulations in its geography.
If they were to build a road here, it would likely follow the bends of this old river. And now that Lawrence had seen the forest for himself, he was confident in his prediction.
It would likely go well if they followed through on the plan.
Whether Holo knew what Lawrence was thinking or not, she did not ask for details when dawn broke, nor did he explain. He wanted a specific situation to help him explain.
As they passed beneath the tree cover, Lawrence felt like he had become a little mouse. Eventually, they spotted the road ahead of them drenched in sunlight. There was a clearing in the dense forest where a quiet pond sat—the perfect place for a witch to live.
And sitting beside the pond were two buildings nestled side by side—old, sagging, and covered in moss.
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“What an awful smell,” Holo complained.
Lawrence chuckled. As they neared the building with Meyer at their side, he could tell right away that it smelled of charcoal and metal. It was different from the scents of the forest; this smell scraped at the inside of his nostrils.
“Well, if it isn’t Meyer!”
One of the two buildings was more like a covered shed without any walls. Beneath it sat ironware that was no longer functional and a mound of coal. Practically buried beneath it all was a middle-aged man working, steam rising from his bare torso.
“Another busy day, smith?”
“You bet. Any spare moment I got makes me think the forest is gonna swallow me whole.”
The smith glanced back over his shoulder and peeled off his thick leather gloves before appraising Lawrence and Holo.
“Guess you haven’t brought me apprentices?”
With a huff, Holo turned away—a gesture, perhaps, done on behalf of all the forest dwellers in the world. Lawrence gave a nod and a smile in greeting instead.
“This is traveling merchant Lawrence and his wife. He will be on our side regarding the forest road.”
When Meyer introduced them, the smith gave a nod in understanding. “My apologies, then. It’s mighty smoky out here. Let’s talk inside.”
He must have thought Holo was upset because she did not appreciate the metallic smoke that rose from the furnace.
The smith opened the door to the neighboring building and stepped inside. Meyer followed after him, and as Lawrence moved to do the same, he realized Holo did not. He turned to look at her.
For a moment, he thought it was because she did not want to step into a smith’s house, but she was instead staring distantly into the trees.
It was almost as though her friends of the forest were calling to her.
✦ ✦ ✦
✦ ✦ ✦
“Holo,” Lawrence said her name a bit forcefully. “Don’t leave me.”
Absently, she turned around to look at him.
“I have too much jerky to eat all by myself.”
Light soon returned to those red eyes that had been peering deep into the distant woods.
For a moment, like a dream, it seemed as though Holo was on the verge of melting into the very forest itself, but her image became sharp and distinct once again.
“Indeed you do. The human world is filled with more delicacies than what the forest can offer.”
Now was not the time for her return to the forest.
Lawrence accompanied Holo as she stepped into the building just as the smith started pouring them mugs of strong ale.