Spice & Wolf II (22 page)

“Have you anything you want to ask or say?”

Lawrence shook his head, but then spoke as something suddenly occurred to him.

"I want you to think of what you’ll say when I repay the money.”

Jakob blinked, then laughed loudly. The inappropriate timing of the joke made it all the funnier.

“I’ll think of something, don’t you worry! And you, my dear, have you anything to say?”

Lawrence was sure she would say something, but Holo surprisingly—shook her head wordlessly.

“Right, that should wrap things up. We shouldn’t talk too long. They’re a suspicious lot out there, you know. If rumors got around, it’ll be harder for you to act.”

Jakob stood from the couch, which creaked again. Lawrence and Holo did likewise.

Jakob and Lawrence knew it was a bad idea for merchants to wear dark expressions, so they made every effort to appear normal, as if the business they had just discussed was nothing more than a bit of small talk.

When they reached the lobby, Jakob returned to his usual spot and waved Lawrence off lightly.

Yet the people drinking wine in the lobby said nothing to him, as if they had sensed something was amiss.

Lawrence felt the weight of eyes on his back; he closed the door behind him and Holo as if to seal the guild members away.

They might even have been thinking about restraining him He couldn’t help but feel grateful at Jakob’s generosity in letting him go free.

“Well, we’ve got two days of freedom. We’ve no choice but to see what we can do with it,” murmured Lawrence to himself, but the notion of raising forty-seven
lumione
without any capital was delusional at best.

If there were any such method, the beggars of the world would all be rich men.

Yet he had to think of something.

If he didn’t, his future wasn’t worth contemplating.

His dream of having a shop would collapse; his recovery as a merchant would be hopeless; and his life would end either in thr gloom of a mine shaft or the bowels of a ship, where the cries of anguish were said to drown out the crashing of the waves.

He tried to buck himself up, to put on a brave face, but the more he tried to reassure himself, the more the impossibility of his situation closed in around him.

Jakob trusted Lawrence enough to give him his freedom for two days.

But now Lawrence began to wonder if it was just Jakob giving a doomed man his last days of freedom. As he thought about it realistically, raising forty-seven
lumione
in two days seemed impossible.

He noticed his hand was trembling.

Shamed, Lawrence made a fist to stop the shaking. Then a small hand rested atop his.

It was Holo—he suddenly remembered she was there.

He wasn’t alone.

Coming to that realization, Lawrence found the composure to take a deep breath.

At this rate, he would break his promise to accompany Holo to the northlands.

His frozen mind began to turn. Holo noticed this and spoke.

“So. What will you do?”

“First, before we do any more thinking, we need to test something.”

“And that is?” Holo asked, looking up to Lawrence.

“Debt for debt.”

None can feel at ease when lending large amounts of money unless they are very wealthy or generous indeed.

On the other hand, one does not nag for repayment of a trivial loan unless they are especially petty or especially strapped for cash.

Debt was like a looming mud slide. Even if it were impossible to stop, if one could manage to divert it into other rivers, it could be managed.

One way to manage a debt of forty-seven
lumione
would be to borrow small amounts from many different people to pay it oil and then gradually pay each lender off in turn.

However.

“Well, well, Lawrence! It’s been a while. What’s your angle today?”

Every merchant Lawrence knew greeted him roughly the same upon seeing his face again, but when the talk came of lending their expressions grew grim.

“Five
lumione
? Sorry, friend, times are tough for me at the moment. It’s the end of the year, prices of wheat and meat are up, and I’ve got to lay in stock for spring. Sorry, I just...

Everyone gave the same answer, as if their responses had been prearranged. They were merchants just like him, sensitive to exactly what he was trying. If traveling merchants could just head to a company and borrow money instead of borrowing from their guild, that would put the trade companies in the same position that forced guilds to have rules against lending.

And no one wanted to load their goods aboard a sinking ship.

When Lawrence pressed them for even a single
lumione
, they regarded him as if he was especially foul smelling.

With no island to cling to, he was often just kicked out or sent off.

One who came not for commerce or negotiation but simply to borrow was little more than a thief.

That was common sense in the world of merchants.

“We’ll try another one.”

After Lawrence met back up with Holo, who waited outside the row of companies and mansions, he didn’t bother with a fifth rendition of that same line.

He had only put on a brave face for the first three stops, and Holo stopped asking him how it had gone after four.

As a “by the way” to his request for a short-term loan, Lawrence had asked after any opportunities for profit, but that, too, had withered into silence.

After all, merchants used capital to turn a profit. It was obvious that without money on hand, there was nothing to be done.

Lawrence unconsciously quickened his pace as he walked, opening a bit of distance between himself and Holo.

When he noticed, he told himself to calm down, but the words merely echoed in his empty mind, and he began to find Holo’s words of encouragement irritating.

He was in a bad way.

Despite the chilly air that descended as night drew near, Lawrence’s forehead and throat were slick with sweat.

Though he had thought himself prepared, the reality of his circumstances affected him more than he’d anticipated. The seriousness of the situation seemed to spill out of him like water from an overtaxed ceramic cup.

Why had he made that deal in Poroson? The feelings of regret warred with the uselessness of such recriminations within him.

Again, Holo’s voice reminded Lawrence that he had put too much distance between them. He was assailed by an exhaustion that made him wonder if he would ever be able to walk again were he to stop.

But he had no time for exhaustion.

“Excuse me,” Lawrence asked at yet another door.

The bell signaling the close of the market rang; all the companies would soon be closing their doors for the day.

The ninth location Lawrence visited was already tidying up its loading dock, and a wooden sign was posted on the entrance, indicating that the day’s trading was over.

A trading company was home to the master and men work ing there, so it wasn’t as if no one was about. Lawrence used the knocker and took a deep breath.

He hadn’t many acquaintances left. The merchant had to gel someone to lend him money.

“Who is there?” asked the woman who opened the door. She was well built, and Lawrence remembered her face.

Just as Lawrence steeled himself to ask after the master, the woman looked back over her shoulder. Flustered, she went back into the house.

In her place appeared the master of the company.

“It has been a while, Mr. Lawrence.”

“It has. I’m very sorry to trouble you after the market’s closed, but I have a favor to ask...”

The first couple of stops Lawrence made, he had had the luxury of beginning with small talk, feigning normal business.

But he no longer possessed such a luxury. As he plunged into his request, the master regarded him scornfully.

“I happened to hear that you’ve been making the rounds with your request.”

“Er, yes...though it embarrasses me to say so...”

The ties between merchant companies in a city were strong. The master had clearly heard from one of the companies Law rence visited earlier.

“And it’s a sizable amount. Is this because of the drop in armor prices, I wonder?”

“Yes. I was naive and made a mistake.”

Even if he had to grovel and throw himself on the mercy of others, Lawrence had to borrow the money. Starting penniless and raising forty-seven
lumione
in two days was simply impossible.

And if he was refused here, he would be turned away at the gates everywhere else.

If even one of the other companies had lent to him, Lawrence felt that others would have too. But the fact that none had offered him aid made him wonder if they all thought his recovery so impossible that they wouldn’t bother lending.

Merchant companies were closely connected. Once a piece of information escaped, the news would be all over town in an instant.

The master’s tone was unchanged and cold.

“A naive mistake? I suppose it was at that.”

This was something that it didn’t take the skill of a merchant used to discerning others’ feelings to grasp.

This was not the tone of a man prepared to lend money.

The master furrowed his brow and let slip an exasperated sigh. It seemed as if he might have known that Lawrence had gotten greedy and amassed an oppressive debt by buying armor on margin.

Trustworthiness was a merchant’s life. If you couldn’t be trusted, none would extend their hand to aid you.

And your debt was your own responsibility—if you couldn’t pay it back, it was your own fault.

Lawrence hung his head, feeling the strength drain from him like so much water.

The master continued speaking.

“Yet only the gods can predict a sudden fall in price. It’s unfair to rebuke you for being unable to do so.”

Lawrence looked up in spite of himself. He saw a glimmer of hope. If he could get a loan here, it would be easier to get loans from others, and his skill as a traveling merchant would be acknowledged to a degree. If he promised to pay it back with interest, he might yet save himself.

Hope, he thought, dangled now before his eyes.

But when he looked at the master, the face that greeted him held only scorn in its eyes.

“If you’re in trouble, Mr. Lawrence, I thought that I might be able to be of some help to you. You’ve helped me turn a profit many a time. But while I’m a merchant, I also live by the teachings of God, and I need to know your sincerity.”

Lawrence did not understand what he was hearing, but none the less, he frantically began to formulate an excuse when he was cut off by the particularly mercantile form of the master's speech.