Wolf & Parchment: New Theory Spice & Wolf, Vol. 8, page 15
“We still haven’t gotten a response from the Debau Company. If we can’t give the kids satisfactory food and shelter after we’ve saved them, they’ll just end up back in the hands of those other boys, and that would damage our reputation. And saving only one or two at a time would only heighten the southern eagles’ vigilance. We must save them all at once, otherwise there’s no point.”
“But we’ve waited sooo long already! We’ve found them, but they might’ve moved them by now! Or maybe they’ve captured new kids!”
Ten days was a very long time for Myuri to wait, considering how impatient she was.
What’s more, Aquent was considered a part of the south; every day, they could feel on their skin the impending summer season. Myuri was the sort of girl who jumped for joy when it snowed; the advent of another exciting season on the horizon would only make it harder for her to sit still.
“Then we just need you to find them again. I know you can do it, Myuri. Isn’t that right?”
Lutia was adept at calming others. It was a crucial skill for the leader of a band of impetuous boys.
She spoke slowly and carefully, but sound arguments were not enough to calm the rambunctious girl’s passion.
“You’re so stupid, Lutia! Your tail is full of mites!”
“Y— Wh—”
“Myuri!”
Col shouted at her, but Myuri was already out of the old chapel and gone.
Lutia was dumbfounded by Myuri’s outburst, but when she snapped to, she quickly started combing through the fur on her tail—that insult must have stung especially bad for those with fur.
“I will scold her later…,” Col said.
Lutia let go of her tail, flustered. “No, we’re the ones at fault,” she said. She checked her tail one more time, then hid it. “If you hadn’t shown up, I probably wouldn’t have even considered the possibility of getting so much help. That, and you have a nonhuman by your side. That must be frustrating in the fight against the Church, right?”
If anyone was frustrated here, it was Myuri.
And as the one who was aiming to be a member of the clergy, he had a sure response.
“All we are really doing is reading the scripture—that, I am used to.”
God was only words on a page—not once had he ever saved someone.
Though it could easily be construed as an expression of spite or hostility, this realization had likely shaken the faith of everyone who had ever read the scripture.
Lutia’s eyes went wide, and her shoulders shook with laughter.
“I’m pretty sure I’m just going to end up talking about how I disagree with your god if we keep talking about this, so let’s not say anymore,” the Wise Wolf proposed, and Col nodded with a smile.
“But there’s an important reason why I called you here today. Remember when I sent out a letter to one of the scholars that work with us by fast horse? We got a response.”
Excitement stirred in Col’s heart, but he could surmise what the letter said by the expression on Lutia’s face.
“It was too dangerous to mention you by name, but I worded it in a way that asked if they would help fight the Church’s injustices.”
He unfolded the letter to reveal writing that was rushed and restless, as though they’d been trying to avoid the prying eyes of others.
“While they were willing to fight the greedy people who wielded their knowledge to exploit good but poor students, they have no intention of challenging the Church.”
In short, the letter was filled with longwinded excuses.
“Those who’ve worked hard to master the liberal arts and then chosen to pursue the route of ecclesiastical law are likely either aiming to become high-ranking clergy, or to be a priest in a noble’s private chapel. Even if they perform at a level where they could proudly join the professors’ guild, fighting the Church would only tarnish their reputation.”
Lutia leaned back in the pew, tired. Col folded the letter and gave a little sigh.
“The whole reason the Church’s obvious injustices have persisted for so long is because all those little sorts of situations have grown unchecked over time.”
“And you’re desensitized to that frustration?”
“Unfortunately,” Col replied. His eyes fell to the letter again because he had continued his journey despite those frustrations and sank his teeth into whatever hardships they encountered, resolving them along the way.
“But I have an idea,” he said.
“You do?”
“I can tell this scholar is quite young.”
Lutia shot up straight in her surprise. “How did you know?”
“Their word choice bears a resemblance to the notes I see in modern annotated versions of the scripture. I have a feeling this person might be trying to loudly discover the truths of the world so their name will be known. In that case, there isn’t much we can do if they choose to prioritize their benefices.” Col paused, looking at the writing on the paper, which he believed even Myuri would be able to understand. “And that is why I think we should speak to an older individual. The sort who has spent more time gazing up at the heavens than paying attention to the vulgar world. An older scholar who already has a gray beard and speaks with simple language, as opposed to a hot-blooded younger scholar, would be much more easily accepted into the city’s professors’ guild.”
Perhaps they should start not by attempting to overturn the academic wrongs that ran rampant in Aquent all at once, but by sending in a scholar who could act as a wedge. Then slowly, they could take that small gap and widen it.
“I see… I was thinking about someone who would eagerly challenge these vested interests for us, so I was looking for someone with a backbone. But I didn’t realize it might be easier to send in someone who’s meeker,” Lutia said and smiled faintly. “You’re a lot more discreet than I’d expect a brother of Myuri’s to be, but you’re right. I guess I only ever equate fights with swords.”
“If anything, I wonder why my little sister turned out the way she did.”
Lutia barked loudly with laughter.
Glad he could help, Col reached to return the letter to Lutia, but he paused.
“What is it?” Lutia looked at him curiously, paused to receive the letter.
“Do you think you could send a reply to this letter?”
Lutia, in her blank stare, looked surprisingly young.
“One of the reasons I was sent to Aquent was so I could debate one of the world’s great scholars, so that I may test my skill.”
In that regard, the high-spirited author of this letter would be a most satisfactory debate partner.
And in the nonsense knight tales Myuri was writing, there were plenty of examples in which a fight turned out to be the seed of friendship.
“I…don’t mind, no.”
Lutia seemed to be at quite a loss, but that was only natural. Regardless, Col gave his thanks for her agreement, and put the letter back in his pocket.
And then the noon church bell rang. Lutia looked to the ceiling, then to Col.
“I’ve got something I need to do, so you’ll have to excuse me. I’m going to look into a different route for finding you allies.”
“I will notify you the moment I get a response from the Debau Company.”
Lutia nodded, told Col to apologize to Myuri on her behalf, then left the ruined chapel. Just as Col was thinking about leaving, too, Le Roi entered.
“Goodness, pardon my tardiness.”
Col had notified Le Roi of the day’s get-together, but he had apparently had a meeting with one of the booksellers in town, so had been unable to come.
“Oh? And where is your sister?”
“She was frustrated that we could not solve any of the problems immediately, so she ran out.”
Le Roi placed his hands on his large belly, as though making sure it would not fall off, and laughed.
“The Wise Wolf has been fighting for a long time, you know. Nothing is solved overnight.”
The knight tales Myuri was obsessed with writing were all stories where the most difficult problems were solved swiftly and decisively—in an absurd manner, even—over the course of the adventure. Perhaps that was turning out to be a bad influence on her.
“That said,” Le Roi continued, “the people of the city are growing rather impatient as well.”
He had likely been making enthusiastic rounds about the city since the early morning. With a grunt, he sat in one of the pews.
“All the companies and workshops involved in the bookmaking process are at the ends of their ropes. The city has not chosen a book to be the ecclesiastic law textbook yet, you see. They are starting to look rather unfavorably upon the northern wolves’ resistance.”
Lutia and her gang were not the only ones who wanted to do something about the tyrannical behavior of the southern eagles. There were some in the city council who wanted to curb their violence for the sake of public safety as well as powerful nobles who were expecting great things in terms of academic development, and Lutia had accurately determined that those sorts of people supported her cause. But now that spring was growing late and summer was on the horizon, the fact that a textbook had yet to be chosen was certainly beginning to cause discord throughout the city.
“Even the merchants and artisans fed up with the betting cannot make any money if a textbook is never chosen, you see.”
If they were to fold under the pressure and existing faculty gradually resumed their lectures, another textbook would yet again be arbitrarily chosen, and then they would demand expensive gifts in exchange for degrees. If that were to happen, then Lutia and the other poor students would once again be forced back into submission.
Col wanted to help Lutia, and not simply because she was a wolf like Myuri. It was because justice was clearly on Lutia’s side.
After a brief silence settled over the chapel, Le Roi spoke up again.
“We mustn’t lose sight of our goal, Master Col.”
This was not the first time the graying bookseller had paid him a bitter reminder. He was starting to say this more often, when Myuri was not around, as though reminding him of his responsibilities as the elder of the two.
The problem Lutia and her students had was indeed something that needed to be fixed, but if they got too mixed up in it, they would lose sight of their bigger objectives. They were only here to secure paper for the printing of the scripture, which would help them right the Church’s wrongs and find allies who would fight alongside them at the possible ecumenical council.
It might even be faster to give up on Lutia and find someone else in a different academic city in their search for someone who knew anything about the ancient empire and the deserts where its stories lived on and might lead to the new continent.
And so what excuses they had to remain in this city without immediately packing up were that they were waiting for a response from the Debau Company, and they were waiting for a response from Canaan, who would be meeting them here.
“…What about the booksellers? Have they gotten any inkling that the council might be happening?”
Col did not acknowledge Le Roi’s reminder directly; he had simply brought that up if only to keep the conversation going.
“They are typically the first to know about things, but it seems things have not reached a point for them to learn of it yet. But all of them feel as though there is an overabundance of books written in the script of the Church in their stores. If the scripture were to be translated into the vernacular, then there would be little reason to learn the script of the Church, and that would be the greatest textbook to teach the script for those who want to learn. That news is clearly causing waves in the monopoly over the knowledge of the script.”
In short, proliferating the vernacular scripture throughout this region would, in one fell swoop, bring down those who hoarded all knowledge of the script of the Church to wield the Church’s authority to their liking while also dealing a heavy blow to the Church’s authoritarian attitude.
Le Roi, who was collecting information from Aquent’s booksellers every day, was a lot more sensitive to this atmosphere than Col was. And that was why he believed that they needed to spread the vernacular scripture as soon as possible, and secure paper for that very purpose.
Col was but a traveler who just happened to stop in this city to begin with, and he could not stay here and help Lutia forever. If he had to set off for his next journey soon, that would mean abandoning her.
Though Le Roi was furious about the kids’ plight, his sharpened merchant’s sensibilities saw just how deep, how cumbersome, this problem was. From the point of view of the one who was calculating their journey with regard to the way society flowed around the Church, these past few days clearly leaned in favor of his mercantile sense of righteousness, though he would never say such out loud.
Of course, Col would not say he was wrong, but he could do nothing but sigh heavily.
“I volunteered to support your journey, Master Col, and I will adhere to whatever decision you make… But time plays no favorites. And not even God can bring back lost time.”
“…I know.”
Even when Col was a child and had traveled with Le Roi, he vaguely recalled being given similar advice along the way.
Le Roi must have been thinking the same; he suddenly gave a kind smile, then spoke brightly to change the mood.
“Now, I hate to be in and out, but a caravan of traders will be arriving soon and I am planning to meet them.”
Perhaps the reason he decided to go out of his way to drop by the old chapel was to warn Col not to get too involved with Lutia.
“I’m going to ask about how things are inland.”
Le Roi did not force Col to make a decision, but he was clearly changing tack to begin preparing for their next journey. He was the sort of traveling companion that was hard to come by—reliable, trustworthy—but he did not make the same sort of decisions Col did. Col felt his decision was a cold one, that he was being betrayed. And that meant he was still a child.
“Yes, all right.”
Col rose from his seat, trying hard not to let the frustration he felt over only being able to wait show on his face, and saw Le Roi off. Once he could no longer see the man squeezing through the small alleyways, a familiar girl poked her head out from the alley diagonally opposite. Considering how angrily she had fled the chapel, he wondered if she perhaps felt awkward about coming back in; there was certainly some displeasure still lingering in her expression when she spoke up.
“What about lunch, Brother?”
“………”
Col was unable to give Myuri a response at first. He locked the empty chapel.
“Have you not eaten enough already?”
When she approached, even he could smell the scent of smoke on her. After leaving the chapel, she had most certainly rushed to the main street where she had bought her fill of food from the stalls in her anger.
“I’m worried about you, Brother!”
“I know.”
Col knew Myuri’s anger toward Lutia was partially out of worry for Col. Anyone as smart as Myuri would know he was caught between Le Roi’s logical reasoning and the burning desire to help Lutia.
And she knew that once he started worrying, her pathetic brother stopped eating.
Col did his best not to let the effects of his conversation with Le Roi just moments ago show on his face in Myuri’s presence, but not long after they set off, he realized that he was walking hand-in-hand with Myuri.
He looked back and forth between their hands and Myuri’s face; Myuri was glum, which told him that he had unconsciously taken her hand.
“You’re such a spoiled child, Brother.”
A tense smile leaped onto his face. To think he would finally see the day in which Myuri said that to him.
“I am worried you will run off again,” he stung back, also reminding her of how she had insulted Lutia’s tail by calling it mite-ridden. Myuri immediately nudged her shoulder against him, but she did not let go.
“Not only are you spoiled, but you’re so mean,” the furious Myuri spat, like a filled water skin. “When I look at Lutia, I kind of get why Mother stopped traveling around with Father.”
“Huh?”
As she walked beside him, she looked less despondent, and more aged.
“Because if Lutia or I decided to hold nothing back, then we could put an end to the problem in this city in an instant.”
If they did not mind the details, then that was the truth.
“And Mother’s the same. If she’d put in everything she had in her old journey with Father, then she could’ve made that silly man king, just like old man Huskins did. But she didn’t. Right?”
Lutia had pulled away her lip to show her fangs and said they had no use in this world anymore.
And so the most she could do in this city was set the stray dogs that followed her on the southern eagles. Her excuse was she knew how to handle dogs, since she used to go on hunts with her lord.
If she used her wolf powers to the fullest, then it was more than possible to eliminate every last one of the southern eagles and eradicate their influence entirely. If she was willing to go that far, then she could have also turned her fangs on those who were eyeing the territory of the lord who named her. There would have been no need to take the roundabout route of studying ecclesiastical law at all.
But she did not take that route. Instead, she chose to issue orders from the Green Gourd.
This was because she knew that, if she decided to single-mindedly pursue the bloody path as a wolf, there were only so many possible outcomes. She knew if she were to reveal her sharp fangs and claws, she would never be able to sit in front of the warm hearth with her lord and lady.
She had mentioned “frustration” several times now.
It was she who had hidden away her fangs, closed her mouth, and endured.
“There’s such a wide world outside of the village, and Mother and Father were having fun adventuring throughout the whole world, right? So why did they decide to hide away, deep in the mountains? I’ve always been wondering that. But when I look at Lutia, I think I get it.”
