Spice & Wolf IV (34 page)

The villagers that stood atop the meeting stone glared at Elsa as though she had forced them to swallow a rock.

“However, that mistake is not itself a fundamental one.”

She climbed the steps that led to the stone, walked directly past Bishop Van, and knelt down before the totem of Truyeo.

In the church, she had been unwilling to he even after having been trapped by Lawrence and Holo.

She was still that girl, every inch a clergywoman.

So why did she not denounce the snake totem as a false idol, and why was she kneeling before it?

“It is my belief that Truyeo itself is one of God’s miracles."

Sem’s eyes widened, and the villagers were visibly disturbed.

Elsa’s words neither denied nor acknowledged Truyeo.

But Van smiled. “The words of men do not keep close company with the truth. Can you prove that your words were not whispered into your ears by a demon?” he sneered.

“The divine messenger has promised to reveal a sign that will guide the wayward lambs back to the. true path.”

Holo and Evan looked to Elsa. It was the signal that their preparations were done.

Even though he knew all was well, Lawrence was keenly aware of his own nervousness.

Elsa, too, must have felt the overwhelming pressure of all those gazes—the villagers’ and Bishop Van’s.

But her voice was still clear and strong.

She had inherited the teachings of Father Franz and trusted in Holo’s supernatural power, which gave her new faith in the righteousness of the God that had created the world.

“Hmph, you would presume to display the power of God...," began Van, but his voice was drowned out by the cries of
fear
and surprise that arose from the people who surrounded th wagons.

“Th-the wheat, it’s—!”

The crowd’s cries crew louder.

From within the bags of wheat loaded on the wagons, ears of wheat began to sprout and grow skyward.

Sem and the rest looked on, their faces as expressionless as badly made dolls, and Van was stunned into silence by the miracle before him.

As the wheat stalks continued to grow, the people’s cries echoed throughout the square, at times sounding almost dismayed.

“It’s God! God has created a miracle!” The shouting spread like wildfire, and in the end, even the clergymen bowed down.

Only Bishop Van remained standing stock-still as he took in the sight.

Another cry arose as one of the green stalks of wheat matured.

Of the wheat that sprouted in the sixteen wagons, only one wagon’s wheat was different. Instead of ripening honey brown, it withered and turned to dust.

All who saw knew exactly what that meant.

Everyone’s attention was focused entirely on the wheat, save Lawrence’s.

He looked at the ashen-faced Riendott and at Bishop Van.

The ones responsible for poisoning the wheat could hardly laugh this miracle off.

“God has shown us the correct path,” said Elsa, focusing the gaze of the crowd on herself.

“This...can’t be...It’s absurd...!”

“Bishop Van,” said Elsa, cool and logical. “I would like you to confirm that this is not the work of a demon.”

“H-how—”

“Use this,” said Elsa, producing a dull metal chalice and holding it out to Van.

“Please bless this chalice. Once you have done so, Evan the miller will prove the truth of God’s teachings.”

Bishop Van did as he was asked, taking the chalice, then speaking hurriedly. “Wh-what exactly do you plan to do with this?"

“Even the poor may be baptized in God. I would have you. Bishop Van, cleanse this cup.”

Van was overwhelmed and unable to protest further. He gave the assistant priest a look of anguish. The priest in turn ordered the other clergymen to fetch some water.

They soon returned bearing water, which they handed
over
to Van.

Any water poured by a clergyman of the Church became holy and pure.

The chalice, now filled with holy water, shone dully in Bishop Van’s hands.

“Take the water now to the miller there,” said Elsa. She refrained from doing it herself so as to make sure he could find no fault with her.

This way, the purported righteousness of the clergy would be transferred to Evan in the very act of giving him the water.

“Watch closely,” said Elsa.

She turned to Evan and nodded. He nodded back firmly.

Evan produced a small knife and climbed atop each of the wagons, cutting open a burlap sack in each one, taking a bit of flour out of the sack, and putting it into the chalice as he went.

It was obvious to everyone what he planned to do.

All eyes were on the young wheat grinder. The villagers'
nervous
gulps were almost audible.

Once he had taken flour from fifteen of the sixteen wagons, Evan took the cup, now filled with a mixture of flour and water, and raised it high.

As if pulled by strings, the eyes of the clergymen followed the chalice. They murmured something—perhaps their last prayers to God.

Evan slowly lowered the chalice, peering at its contents.

He had seen Holo’s true form and knew that she was no ordinary being. He had seen stalks of wheat complete a full year’s growth in but a few moments.

Evan looked suddenly away from the chalice.

His gaze fell upon none other than Elsa.

The next instant, he drank the contents of the chalice down in one great gulp.

“This is the truth of the miracle that God’s messenger has revealed to us.”

Evan jumped down and thrust the chalice back into the hands of the clergymen, flour still clinging to the corners of his mouth. The clergy then poured fresh water out from a water skin to purify the cup anew.

Next, Evan climbed atop the one wagon from which he had taken no flour, and removed a small amount from one of the burlap sacks, placing it in the chalice.

Elsa turned to the bishop, who was now trembling. “If this is a false miracle, then surely you will be able to demonstrate a true one.”

If one had lied and claimed the wheat was poisoned, the only way to prove whether it truly was or not would be to eat all of the wheat.

However, that was speaking in purely logical terms, and miracles went beyond the purview of logic.

Only a miracle could oppose another miracle.

To prove this was not a false miracle created by a demon, the bishop would have to produce a true miracle from God.

“Bishop Van.”

Elsa took the chalice from Evan and held it out to Van.

Riendott fell backward on the spot.

Van was frozen, unable to move.

He could not accept the chalice before him.

“V-very well. This...this is a miracle. A true miracle.”

“And the church of this village?” came Elsa’s quick demand.

Van had neither the words nor the miracle he needed to respond. “It’s...legitimate,” he growled. “A legitimate church.”

“I’ll ask you to put that in writing,” said Elsa.

She finally showed a smile as she addressed Elder Sem and the villagers and reverently gathered up the totem of Truyeo.

Bishop Van could neither complain nor demand that the villagers cease their worship of Truyeo, a condition they welcomed gladly.

Elsa had performed admirably.

Though beneath the thin layer of courage that had let her confront Bishop Van without hesitation, uncertainty and fear surely swirled within her.

She took a deep, deep breath; wiped the corners of her eyes; and bowed her head, her hands clasped in prayer.

Though it was impossible to know whether she was praying to God or to Father Franz, either one would have praised her action .

Holo came running to Lawrence’s side. He had been watching her as a spectator would.

“What say you? Impressive, no?” prodded Holo proudly, standing in stark contrast to Elsa, who remained humble despite having served Bishop Van his comeuppance.

But their differences corresponded exactly to the differences between Lawrence and Evan.

Evan shoved the chalice into the hands of one of the clergymen before running over to Elsa and embracing her tightly.

Lawrence’s gaze, along with the villagers’, was drawn in by the sight. Holo sniffed her displeasure.

“You seem quite envious.”

Lawrence saw the challenge in Holo’s smile as she said this. Afraid, he could only shrug. “Aye, quite envious.”

Holo appeared taken aback by the unexpected reply.

“Envious because I was behind the scenes the whole time. Elsa and Evan were onstage. You sprung the trap.”

This was a successful diversion.

Holo sighed, her expression one of disappointment. “Still, the issue of coin has not yet been settled. That job falls to you, does it not?”

“It does. Although...”

Lawrence took the situation in and thought it over.

The tables had been turned.

The mouse had managed to bite the cat. It might as well try to come away with some meat, Lawrence felt.

As the scene changed before his eyes so did his ideas.

In his mind, Lawrence put together a plan that he would never dare try in any other town. It made him feel slightly sadistic.

“Indeed. I suppose this might be worth trying,” he said to himself, unconsciously stroking his beard. He became aware of Holo’s gaze on him.

She was looking up at him, clearly surprised.

It was rare to see her genuinely surprised. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Heh...are you sure you are not a wolf yourself?”

The statement was so disconnected to anything that he couldn’t help looking dumbfounded. “Huh?”

Holo chuckled, her fangs showing. “That face might suit you a bit better.”

Lawrence withdrew at this point, worried that continuing would only lead him to fall into yet another of Holo’s traps. Holo did not push the subject, evidently satisfied with just a bit of teasing.

In any case, their usual banter would have to wait.

There was still business to take care of and revenge to be had.

Bishop Van and the rest of the people from Enberch were descending from the meeting stone, heading over to Sem’s house to draw up some documents. Lawrence jogged over to them.