Spice & Wolf III (18 page)

Leading the group were people clad in black, but behind them followed another group whose dress was wholly different from those who currently occupied the intersection.

Some people had paint-blackened faces and wore cow horns upon their heads; others carried bird wings on their backs. Many were covered in animal skins of some sort, and it seemed likely that if Holo was to walk among them with her ears and tail exposed, no one would bat an eye. After that column passed, there arose a riotous cry and with it appeared a giant straw figure far bigger than a human. It was vaguely lupine in shape, four legged, and larger even than Holo’s wolf form. The figure was supported on a wooden rack, which was carried by ten men or so.

Lawrence was about to say something about it to Holo, but he abandoned the notion when he saw the intense focus with which she watched the festival.

Animal costume after animal costume appeared in the intersection-cum-stage as the column continued along.

The black-painted marchers at the head of the procession now pointed at the signposts that had been erected here and there in the intersection, milling about as they did so.

Seeing this, Lawrence guessed that this was no mere costume parade. He thought there was some kind of tale being told unfortunately, he was not sure. He was just thinking he would ask Mark about this later when he saw another procession arrive from the north.

These were normal folk, though some were dressed in tatters, some in noble robes, and some as knights and soldiers. The single commonality was the spoon that each one of them carried. Lawrence wondered why
spoons,
of all things, when the three groups collided in the intersection and began crying out in a language he had never heard. A slight ripple of nervousness ran through the assembled spectators as they watched the exchange; Lawrence, too, felt some trepidation.

Just as he was wondering what would happen next, the black-clad group all pointed in the same direction as one.

It was southwest that they pointed, and everyone’s gaze soon turned that way.

Carts loaded with large barrels had evidently been prepared beforehand. Their stewards laughed loudly (if somewhat forcedly) and pushed the carts into the intersection.

The black-clad people began to play the instruments they held, the people in costumes began to sing, and the barrel carriers opened the barrels and began to sprinkle their liquid contents about.

As if that were some kind of signal, the onlookers now flooded into the intersection and began to dance.

The ring of dancers expanded rapidly. Many of the strangely dressed revelers had jumped out of the intersection and danced along the sides of the streets.

The merriment spread, and in no time at all, the entire boulevard was a huge ballroom. In the middle of the intersection, the participants of the original procession linked arms and began to dance in a circle. The festival was well and truly under way now; the singing and dancing would continue into the night.

It seemed that the opening of this festival—this
revel
—was complete.

Holo pulled her body—which heretofore had leaned well out of the window—back into the room.

“I’m going to go dance,” she said, though it was not clear if she spoke to Lawrence or not.

Lawrence could count the number of times he’d danced like this on one hand. He tended to avoid festivals such as this one, and dancing alone was always a depressing affair.

Thus he hesitated for a moment, but he soon changed his mind after seeing Holo’s outstretched hand.

Everyone would be drunk anyway—no one would notice if his dancing was a little clumsy.

And Holo’s outstretched hand was worth ten thousand gold pieces.

“All right,” said Lawrence, taking Holo’s hand and preparing himself.

Holo laughed at his over serious resolve. “Just mind you don’t tread on my feet,” she said with a smile.

“...I will do my best.”

The two exited the inn and plunged into the reveling crowds.

How many years had it been since he’d celebrated so much?

Lawrence had danced, drunk, and laughed so much he could not help but wonder.

This was also certainly the first time he had basked thus in the post-revel afterglow.

Normally, once the fun had passed, it was followed by a rush of terrible loneliness.

But as he helped Holo, unsteady on her feet from a surfeit of merriment and wine, up the inn stairs, the heat of the moment faded to a pleasant warmth. As long as Holo was with him, he felt, the celebration would continue.

The inn room’s window had been left open, and the sounds of the continuing festival filtered through it. The night was young, and the merchants and craftsmen who had to work through the day were only now beginning to join in the festivities.

The festival seemed to have entered a new phase. As they returned to the inn, Lawrence had looked back at the intersection to see it filled with people busily coming and going.

If Holo had had any strength remaining, she surely would have wanted to see. Unfortunately, she was exhausted.

After putting her to bed and setting her things in order (continuing his manservant duties from the previous day), Lawrence sighed.

It was not, however, an unhappy sigh. It came out as he looked at Holo’s flushed cheeks as she lay sideways and innocent on the bed.

He felt a bit bad for Amati. He was no longer even remotely worried about having to fulfill the contract.

Far from it—in fact, he’d forgotten about it entirely until they had returned to the inn.

Once they came back, the innkeeper told Lawrence there was a message for him. It was from Mark; the message was “I’ve found how Amati plans to make the money—come to the shop as soon as you can.”

The first thought that crossed Lawrence’s mind was
I’ll go tomorrow.
Normally such procrastination would never have occurred to him, and when he thought on it, it illustrated just how low of a priority it was for him.

What concerned him more than Mark’s message was the letter that had come with it. It was sealed with a wax stamp and had "Diana” written in a lovely hand on the envelope. The letter had apparently been delivered by a stout man with a coffin-like build, which had to be Batos.

Lawrence had asked the chronicler to please let him know if she should happen to recall anything more about Yoitsu, which is what he expected the letter to be about. He considered opening it right then and there, but he decided that once he sat down and opened the envelope, he would be even less inclined to go visit Mark, so he decided against it.

Lawrence slipped the envelope back into his coat, and closing the window against the clamor still wafting in from the street, he headed out.

Just as he was about to open the door, he felt a gaze on his back, and looking behind him, he saw Holo forcing her sleep-heavy eyes open to look at him.

“I’m just going out for a bit.”

“...Quite, and with a letter from a female tucked near your breast?” Her irritation did not seem to come from her struggle to stay awake.

“Aye, and she’s a beauty, I might add. Does it bother you?”

“...Fool.”

“She’s a chronicler. Do you know what that is? She’s the one telling me about Yoitsu. She’s quite knowledgeable about the tales from the northlands. I haven’t read the letter yet, but just talking to her yesterday gained us some excellent information. I even heard a story about you.”

Holo rubbed her eyes like a cat washing its face, and then she sat up. “...A story? About me?”

“A town called Lenos has a story of you. Holoh of the Wheat Tail. That’s you, is it not?”

“...I’ve no idea. But what do you mean by excellent information’?” With her homeland as the subject of conversation, Holo was now fully awake.

“Part of the tale included the direction from which you arrived in the town.”

“I-in...” Holo’s eyes widened and she froze, emotion writ large on her face. “In truth?”

“I’ve no reason to lie, do I? Evidently you arrived in Lenos from the forest east of it, so the mountains southwest of Nyohhira and east of Lenos are where we’ll find Yoitsu.”

Holo's hands gripped the bedclothes tightly, and she looked down upon hearing the unexpected news. Her wolf ears trembled as though each hair were overflowing with joy.

Hers was the relief of a girl who’d long ago lost her way but had finally found a familiar path.

Slowly and carefully she took a deep breath, which she then exhaled forcefully.

It was only her wisewolf’s pride that kept her from bursting into tears right there on the spot.

“I’m surprised you didn’t cry.”

“...Fool.” Her sneer proved how close to tears she had actually come.

“Knowing only that it was to the southwest of Nyohhira would have made the search difficult, but now it will be much narrower.

“I haven’t opened the letter yet, but I’m sure it has additional information. It should be much easier to find our destination now.”

Holo nodded and looked aside; then still holding the bedclothes, she looked back to Lawrence searchingly.

Her red-tinged amber eyes sparkled with a mixture of anticipation and doubt.

The white tip of her tail flicked to and fro uncertainly, and she looked so much the frail maiden that Lawrence couldn’t help but smile weakly.

If he’d failed to understand what she was saying with that gaze, he would have no cause for complaint when she ripped his throat out.

Lawrence cleared his throat. “I daresay we’ll be able to find it within a half year.”

He could tell that the blood was once again flowing through her stone-still form.

“Mm!” said Holo happily with a nod.

“So the sender of this note is like a dove bearing good news. Go reflect on your misguided assumptions.”

Holo’s lips twisted in displeasure, but Lawrence could not fail to notice that it was an affectation.

“In any case, I’m now off to see Mark.”

“With a letter tinged with a female’s scent tucked near your breast?”

Lawrence couldn’t help but laugh at Holo repeating her pointed question.

No doubt she wanted him to leave the letter.

She could not come right out and say as much, though, because it was too embarrassing to admit she was so nervous that she wanted him to leave a letter she could not even read.

Amused at the normally opaque Holo’s transparent state of mind, Lawrence handed her the letter.

“You said the sender was a beauty?”

“Oh, indeed, and fairly wrapped in adulthood.”

Holo raised a single eyebrow. She took the letter and then looked back to Lawrence, her eyes narrowed. “You’re becoming a bit
too
adult and cunning.” She grinned, revealing her fangs.

“Also, apparently Amati's found a way to raise the thousand silver pieces he needs. I’m off to ask about that.”

“Oh, aye? Well, do try to come up with some way to prevent me being purchased away, hmm?”

Given their exchange thus far, Lawrence did not take Holo's words too seriously.