Spice & Wolf IV (16 page)

“Yes, you did indeed force me,” said Elsa.

Lawrence had no words in the face of her glare.

“Still...still, I think Father Franz would have been pleased.”

“Eh?”

“He was fond of saying, ‘The stories I collect are no mere fairy tales.’ ” Elsa’s grip on the letter she held tightened.

Those letters had probably been left behind by the late Father.

“This is my first time entering this cellar as well. I did not expect there to be so many books. If you plan to read them all, you may wish to make new arrangements at the inn.”

At her statement, Lawrence suddenly remembered that he and Holo had worn traveling clothes in order to trick her.

They had of course also settled their account with the inn.

“Ah, but you might call someone else while we go,” said Lawrence.

He hadn’t been entirely joking, but Elsa in any case seemed unamused. “I serve this church. It is my intention to embrace the true faith. I would never lay such a trap,” she said, smoothing her tightly bound hair and shooting Lawrence a stern glance, even sharper than the ones he had received upon first meeting her. “Even in the sanctuary, I did not tell a lie.”

It was true that her silence then did not constitute a lie.

Yet in spite of her resolve and the keenness of her gaze, her childlike insistence on this point reminded Lawrence of a certain someone else he knew.

So he merely nodded and agreed. “I was the one who set a trap. However, had I not done so, you would never have agreed to my request.”

“I shall remember never to let my guard down around a merchant,” said Elsa with a sigh.

Holo came staggering back up the stairs, carrying a heavy volume with her. “Hey—you—”

Lawrence hurried to help Holo, who seemed unable to bear the weight of the book and looked as though she might topple over backward. He grabbed her arms, helping her support the book.

The magnificent tome was bound in leather and reinforced at the corners with iron.

“Whew. This is certainly not something one simply wanders about with. May I read it here?” asked Holo.

“I do not mind, but please extinguish the candle when you are finished. This church is not wealthy, after all.”

“Hmph,” said Holo, looking at Lawrence.

Since none of the villagers attended services, there were no tithes.

It was easy to assume that Elsa spoke not out of malice or spite but simply because that was the truth.

Lawrence opened his coin purse, taking out some money—his thanks for having his confession heard and for having troubled her so.

“I have heard that if a merchant wishes to rise to the kingdom of heaven, he must lighten his coin purse,” he said.

...He offered three silver coins.

They would be enough to buy a roomful of candles.

“God’s blessing be on you,” said Elsa, taking the coins, then turning and walking away.

Lawrence guessed that if she was willing to accept the coins, she must not consider them tainted.

“So what do you think? Can you read it yourself?” he asked Holo.

“I can. I am lucky on that count I owe it to my exemplary conduct.”

She had gall to make jokes like that in a church.

“And which god is it that blesses people with luck according to their righteousness?”

“If you want to know, you’d best get me an offering.”

Lawrence felt sure that if he was to turn and look at the statue of the Holy Mother leaning against the wall, a bitter smile would have been on her face.

Once they returned to the inn and secured their room again—after enduring some teasing from the laughing innkeeper
—Lawrence pondered what he would do next.

They had gotten Elsa to reveal her secret and discovered Father Franz’s books. So far, so good.

Though Holo had revealed her ears and tail, as long as Enberch continued to watch for a chance to strike, Elsa could not reveal the truth.

Lawrence admitted to himself that it was possible Elsa would tell the truth of Holo’s nature to the villagers in order to goad them into action, saying she was a servant of evil come to bring calamity upon the village.

But as to the question of whether she had anything to gain from such an action, the answer was an obvious “no.”

Though Elsa had fainted upon first seeing Holo’s ears, ever since she’d awoken, she had regarded Holo with neither fear nor loathing.

Truthfully she probably saved her loathing for Lawrence.

All that being the case, the next problem would be the people surrounding Elsa—Sem the village elder and Evan. If they were to learn of Holo’s nature, there was no telling what would happen.

There were a considerable number of books to read in the cellar. Holo and Lawrence would need some time to go through all of them.

If he could, he wanted to let Holo read to her heart’s content while he took responsibility for keeping her safe as she did so.

Though she had accused him of being paranoid, he felt that he had not been suspicious
enough.

But there was no guarantee that taking this or that action wouldn’t rouse a sleeping snake, so to speak.

He returned to the church, thinking that in any case they needed to come up with some kind of pretense for why they were spending time there.

He found Elsa reading letters at a desk that looked far too big for her in the living room, which was every bit as painfully simple as her bedroom. She did not look as though she had secretly informed the villagers and was merely waiting for his return to spring the trap.

When he had knocked on the church’s front door, there’d been no response, so he took the liberty of coming in. There was little reaction from her when he entered the living room.

Elsa merely glanced at Lawrence, saying nothing.

He couldn’t very well just walk by her into the back of the church without saying anything.

“Are you sure you don’t want to keep an eye on us? We might steal the books, you know,” he said jokingly.

“If you planned to do that, there would be no reason not to tie me up,” she shot back correctly Evidently Holo was not the only tough girl in the world.

“And if you were from Enberch, you’d already be speeding back to the town on a fast horse.”

“Ah, but is that really true? There’s nothing to say you wouldn't set fire to the books in the cellar. If the books were ash within the time it takes to get to Enberch and back, there’d be no proof.” The exchange was both light banter and irritated conversation. Elsa sighed and looked at Lawrence. “So long as you do not plan to bring calamity upon the village, I have not the slightest intention of raising a fuss. Though it’s true that your companion has no business being in a church, I...”

She trailed off, closing her eyes as if not wanting to see a question that had no answer.

“All we wish to do is learn more of the northlands. Your suspi cion is completely understandable.”

“No,” said Elsa, her voice unexpectedly firm.

Having done so, she seemed to realize she hadn’t prepared for words that would follow this denial.

It was only after letting out a deep sigh that she was able to continue. “No...if the question is whether I feel suspicion, I admit I do. If it were possible, I wish that I could consult with someone else. But...my problem is of a larger...

“You wish to know if my companion is truly what she claims to be?”

Elsa’s face froze as though she had swallowed a needle. “There is that as well, yes..

She looked down, the only remaining hint of her steadfast nature being her ramrod-straight spine.

She seemed unable to continue.

Lawrence then asked, “And what else?”

Elsa did not reply.

Lawrence’s livelihood was negotiating with people.

When a person withdrew, he knew when to pursue and when to wait for that person to open up again.

This was undoubtedly the former.

“I cannot take your confession, but I may be able to give you some advice. However...”

Elsa peered at him as though from within a deep cave.

"...However, you will only be able to get sincere answers on things outside of business,” Lawrence finished with a smile. He felt that just for a moment, Elsa also smiled.

“No,” she said, “the question I have may well be best asked of a person like you. Might I ask you, then?”

When asking a favor, it is a very difficult thing to avoid seeming servile and to also preserve one’s dignity without appearing high-handed.

Yet Elsa managed it.

She was the image of the clergy.

“I cannot guarantee that any answer I give will be satisfying.”

Elsa nodded and spoke slowly, as if to be sure of every word she said. “If...if the stories collected in the books in the cellar are not false...”

“Yes...?”

“Does that mean the God we believe in
is
false?”

It was a simple question but an extremely serious one at the same time.

The God of the Church was omnipotent, omniscient; there were none but him.

His existence was incompatible with the many gods of the pagan tradition.

“My father—I mean, Father Franz—gathered many tales of the pagan gods of the northlands. He was suspected of heresy more than a few times, yet he was a fine priest who never once missed his daily prayers. If your companion truly is a pagan spirit, that means the God we believe in is a lie. And Father never once doubted God, not even on his deathbed.”

If so, her tragic worries were not hard to understand.

It seemed the adoptive father she’d loved and respected so had not spoken to her about a great many things.

Perhaps he had thought they were not relevant to Elsa, that such matters didn’t concern her—or perhaps he’d meant her to ponder them on her own. There was no way to know.

But to Elsa, who had no one with whom she could discuss her worries, they were a heavy burden indeed.

No matter how heavy the load, it could be carried as long as it was placed firmly on one’s back. However, all it took was a small disturbance for the whole load to come falling apart.

As soon as Elsa began to speak, her words became rapid, as though she could not hold them back if she wanted to.

“Is it because my faith is lacking? I know not. I have not the courage to rebuke the two of you, scriptures and holy water in hand. Whether that is a good thing or a bad thing—no, what it is at all, I do not—”

“My companion—,” Lawrence interjected before Elsa could corner herself with her own words. “My companion, though her true form is a giant wolf, does not wish to be called a god nor worshipped as one.”

Elsa listened quietly, desperately, a lost soul hoping for salvation. “I am, as you see, nothing more than a merchant of no special birth. I know little of the teachings of God. I cannot tell you what is right and what is wrong,” said Lawrence, very much aware that Holo was probably eavesdropping on the conversation. “But I do not believe that Father Franz was mistaken.”