Spice & Wolf II (12 page)

“Oh, um, my apologies,” said the girl. She seemed not to have realized that her hood was up, and now she hurried to pull it back.

Lawrence had spent a lot of time being humbled in front of Holo lately, and this was a sight for sore eyes.

The face that emerged was soft and meek, not unlike the sheep she tended, with faded, obviously uncombed blond hair tied back into a ponytail.

She was slightly bedraggled and underfed, but her eyes were a beautiful dark brown, and on the whole she gave off an honorably impoverished impression.

“It’s N-Norah. Norah Arendt.”

“Again, I’m Kraft Lawrence. I go by Lawrence in business.”

He took Norah’s timidly offered hand and noticed that it—which was just slightly larger that Holo’s—was shaking a bit. Soon, though, she calmed herself and gripped Lawrence’s hand lightly. Though her hand was small, its roughness marked her unmistakably as a shepherd.

“I’ll be counting on you ’til Ruvinheigen!”

“My thanks,” said Norah.

Her smile was like soft summer grass.

Lawrence had assumed they would only be able to go as fast as the sheep could walk, but he was mistaken.

The sheep were deceptively quick, and when climbing hills, the wagon was easily left behind.

Their
baaing
was as pastoral as ever, and the flock was like a white thread as it flowed quickly along the land.

Norah, of course, kept up with no difficulty. At the moment the sheep led the way, followed by Norah, who in turn was followed by Lawrence’s wagon.

“Enek!” Norah called out, and like a bolt of black flame, the dark-furred dog came streaking back to his master, leaping into the air, barely able to wait for his next order. No sooner had the bell on Norah’s staff rung than Enek charged off to the head of the group of sheep.

Lawrence didn’t know much about shepherds, but he could tell that Norah’s sheepdog handling was clearly excellent. The rapport she enjoyed with Enek was not gained in a single day.

But Enek did not seem like a young dog. Norah couldn’t have been more than seventeen or eighteen herself, so perhaps her parents had been shepherds and the sheepdog was her inheritance.

His merchant curiosity was obvious.

“So, Norah, you...”

“Yes?”

“Have you been a shepherd long?”

After hearing Lawrence’s question, Norah gave her bell one long ring, then slowed her pace, and came up along the wagon’s right side.

Holo napped along the left edge of the wagon bed.

“Just four years now.”

Since the profession required only that one memorize the hymn, dance, and phrases for blessing travelers who requested it, it was not uncommon to find even young shepherds with ten years’ experience.

Even without a proper staff or sheepdog, one could guide a flock with a piece of dead wood and still be a fine shepherd.

“So your sheepdog—er, Enek, I mean—you trained him yourself?”

“No, I found him.”

It was an unusual answer. A competent sheepdog was a prized possession—it was unthinkable that a shepherd would just let one go.

Lawrence could think of but one scenario. Its former master must have retired, leaving the dog to another.

“I became a shepherd after I found him.”

“And before that?” Lawrence asked without thinking.

“I helped at an almshouse attached to an abbey and in return was allowed to live there.”

It wasn’t polite to pry into someone’s past, but Norah answered smoothly, her feelings apparently unhurt. As a rare female shepherd, perhaps she was used to such questions.

If she had once lived at an almshouse, that suggested she had neither relatives nor inheritance, but now she was a fine shepherdess—the gods did still bless some with luck, it seemed.

“When I was relying on the almshouse, I thought I would never leave such work. It was good fortune meeting Enek.”

“The result of daily prayer, surely.”

“Yes, I can’t help but think that I have God to thank for our meeting.”

Her bell rang out again, and Enek came streaking back to her side.

As the dry sound of Enek’s footfalls reached Lawrence’s ears, Holo stirred, leaning lightly against the inside of the wagon. It seemed true, surely, that she could detect the approach of a wolf even while sleeping.

“I met him after the almshouse had lost its land to a swindling merchant,” said Norah.

It pained Lawrence to hear of a fellow merchant’s misdeeds, but the fact was such things were common.

“When I found him, he was in a sad state, covered in wounds,” continued Norah.

“From wolves?”

Holo seemed to twitch. Perhaps she was only feigning sleep.

“No, I think it was brigands or mercenaries...There weren’t wolves in the area. He was wandering about at the base of a hill with this staff in his mouth.”

"I see."

Enek barked his pleasure at having his head petted.

Undoubtedly the dog hadn’t been the only one wandering half dead at the foot of that hill. Most of those who were driven from an almshouse would have likely died from hunger. The bond between the girl and dog—they had suffered great hardship together—was no superficial thing.

And the life of a shepherd was lonely and mean. Enek was surely a welcome companion.

Certainly better than the goods Lawrence found himself transporting. Horses, too, were poor conversationalists.

“Still, this is the first time I’ve had a shepherd offer their services as an escort.”

“Hm?”

“Normally they’d refuse such a request, to say nothing of offering work,” he said with a laugh. A flustered Norah looked hastily at the ground.

“Um...” she began.

“What’s that?”

“I just...wanted to talk to someone...”

Apparently her way of clinging to her staff—which was taller than she—was something of a habit.

Still, Lawrence certainly understood her feelings.

Outside of townspeople, those who did not find themselves stricken by loneliness were few.

“Although there is one other thing,” the girl continued. Her demeanor brightened as she looked up. “I’d like to become a dressmaker.”

“Ah, so it’s the guild membership dues you need.”

Norah again seemed embarrassed by Lawrence’s words. Not being a merchant, it appeared she was unused to frank talk about money.

“They’re high nearly everywhere. Though not necessarily so in a new town.”

“Really? Is that true?” Her pretty brown eyes lit up with a frank anticipation that was entirely charming.

It was the fondest wish of most who lived by travel to settle in a town. Such a life was difficult even for an adult man, so the shepherdess must have felt the hardship still more keenly.

“Sometimes the guild dues are free, in newly founded towns.”

“F-free...,” whispered Norah with a countenance that betrayed her disbelief.

After days of enduring Holo’s japes, seeing such a guileless face put Lawrence’s heart at ease.

“If we meet any other merchants on the road, you should ask them if they know of any plans to found new towns in the area. If they know, they’ll probably be happy to tell you.”

Norah nodded, her face shining with good cheer, as if she had been told the whereabouts of some grand treasure.

If such news made her this happy, there was clearly value in telling her.

And there was something about the girl that made him want to help her—something clearly conveyed in the way she worked so hard with her slender arms.

He found himself wishing that the wolf nearby—who could make a sly old merchant into her plaything with a single word—would take a page out of the shepherdess’s book.

She’d be more likable that way, he thought to himself after a moment’s hesitation.

“Fewer towns have been founded recently, though, so you’d do well to save steadily as you pray for good fortune, of course,” said Lawrence.

“Yes. God can become angry if you rely on him too much.”

He’d thought the girl was serious, so her joking tone took him by surprise.

If Holo hadn’t been sleeping behind him, he would have invited her to sit in the driver’s seat.

The moment the thought crossed his mind, though, Holo stirred; Lawrence spoke up hastily. “Uh, er, so, speaking strictly from the standpoint of a merchant, you might make more money escorting my kind like this than you do tending sheep. Surely the territory disputes are difficult.”

“...They are,” said Norah with a pained smile after a short pause. “The safest places already have shepherds occupying them.”

“So all that’s left are wolf-strewn fields.”

“Yes.”

“Wolves certainly can be troublesome—ow!”

Lawrence felt a sudden pain in his buttock and rose involuntarily from the driver’s seat. Norah looked at him, puzzled, and he forced a smile before sitting back down.

Holo’s sleep was evidently feigned. She had pinched him soundly.

“I’m sure the wolves are only looking for food, but sometimes they take lives in the process...A safer place would be nice,” said Norah.

“Well, wolves are sly and treacherous creatures,” said Lawrence, partially to get even for the pinch.

“If I speak ill of them, they may hear, so I won’t.”

Norah’s humble manner was very charming, but Lawrence’s reply, “Indeed,” was mostly for the benefit of the wolf behind him.

“Still,” he continued, “if you’ve skill enough to defend your flock even through wolf-infested fields, shouldn’t your services be in great demand and your flock huge?”

“No, no, it’s only by the grace of God that I remain safe...and I’m thankful to have any work at all. A huge flock, I just couldn’t...”

Perhaps she was just being modest, but it seemed as though there was something else behind her sad smile. Lawrence couldn’t think of many possibilities. Was she dissatisfied with her employer?

Though he knew it wasn’t healthy, Lawrence’s inquisitive nature voiced itself again. “Well, then your employer has no eye for skill,” he said. “Mayhap it’s time for a change.”

Shepherds, after all, were merchants, too. It was only natural they should seek more favorable conditions.

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly!” gasped Norah, taken aback.

It didn’t seem like she was protesting out of fear of being heard, either. She was sincere.

“My apologies. I am sorry. As a merchant, I am always thinking of gains and losses.”

“N-no, it’s all right,” said Norah, as if surprised at her own outspokenness. “...Um,” she began.