"No, no," protested the one calling himself Cesky Brezen, "you do me wrong, Brother Gregory. I gave up my old profession and my old ways when I left the Salamanders. My kumpania, er, family, broke up two years ago. I now devote my life to curing the sick, and healing the afflicted." He could not help noticing the look of disbelief on Mendel's face, so he hurried on.
"When we first met in Heinzendorf, it is true, I was under the influence of my father and my uncles, and, God rest their souls, they led me into wicked and unholy ways. Our horde moved constantly and they were always getting into trouble with the law. But I have long since repented of those sins and I now follow my mother's teachings. I have taken God into my life and use the knowledge given to me by my blessed mother to help those less fortunate than my self. As an act of contrition and repentance I now travel from town to town bringing the natural healing and cures that God provides. I help the sick, the poor and the destitute back to health using only botanical remedies and potions."
"You have become a herbalist?" Mendel asked, incredulously.
"You might say that," Brezen admitted.
"If that is so," Mendel told him, "I congratulate you on your change of heart and change of profession. Although I will admit that I used to enjoy your act, and the visits of the Salamanders to Heinzendorf once a year." Then, with an impish grin, "Does this mean I will not have to hold on so tightly to my wallet?" He tapped his pocket and laughed at the Gypsy.
Brezen laughed also, but with a lot less sincerity.
"I wonder if you could help me," he said, moving the conversation away from dangerous ground. This monk knew too much about his past, and could, if not deflected, hurt his future. For Cesky Brezen and his companions had indeed come to Brno for the period of Lent and especially for the purpose of practicing their various crafts and skills upon its unsuspecting citizens.
"If I can," Mendel said generously, but with a touch of caution.
"I am looking for somewhere to stay. Somewhere not expensive and where I will not be ... er ... bothered."
Mendel knew exactly what he meant. Few of the respectable hostelries in Brno would rent a room to a Gypsy. Normally, he knew, Gypsies traveled in related groups, the kumpania, and camped on the outskirts of towns like Brno. From these camps, which were eyed suspiciously by the police, the gypsy women would move into town, begging and telling fortunes while the men traded and sometimes stole livestock. It was unusual for a member of the Rom to stay in a Gaje, non-gypsy, house. He gave the matter a few moments thought, then told the leader of a cheap but not too selective establishment in a less fashionable part of Old Brno.
"Thank you," Brezen replied, "It was good to see you again Johann ... er ... Brother Gregory."
"Good indeed," replied Mendel, "but I must be going. As well as being a monk, I am now also a teacher." He waved generally in the direction of the Realschule. "I have just finished classes for the day. I was on my way back to the Monastery to go over my notes before supper. I have a scientific talk to give in two days, and I must study."
"You are also a scientist?" Brezen asked, more out of politeness than interest.
"Yes," Mendel told him, "Abbot Napp, of our Monastery, strongly encourages all of us to investigate natural phenomenon. I myself have performed breeding experiments using Pisum, and I have been invited to give a second presentation to the Brno Natural Science Society in two days." Then, honesty forced him to add, "My first presentation was not well received, so I must work harder and get them to understand the significance of what I have discovered."
With this the monk shook Brezen's hand once more and with a wave strode off down Masarykova.
Behind him, Brezen's companions drew close wondering at what had just happened.
"What did the raya want?" asked the one called Balo, speaking in the Romani tongue and scornfully using Rom term for 'wealthy landowner'.
But his leader was in no mood to explain, he waved them back into position. There was still something left of the day, although the sun was rapidly falling into evening. He stretched to his full height and turned to catch the last rays. Yes, he thought to himself, he had been right to come to Brno. This was a good place to make some money before moving on, for men like Cesky Brezen were always on the road to somewhere else. It had been a mistake to stay in Prague as long as they had. The police in the regional capital were more vigilant and more suspicious. Here in Brno there were more opportunities and less danger.
With one hand he felt around his waist, and was reassured by the object he found there, nestled closely to his body. This was his fortune, and the one object he treasured above all else. No matter how great the danger, he would not have left Prague without it. With it, no matter the circumstances, he always had ability to earn a few guilders. Not that he had lied to Brother Gregory; he was indeed making a living these days as an itinerant mendicant, but before he could practice that trade, he needed capital. With luck, in the next few hours, he could gather enough guilders to finance a visit to the apothecary, glass works and the small shop he knew of down by the river. In these places he would get all the supplies he needed. Later he would make a variety of patient medicines, salves and potions most of which were harmless, a few that would do good and one in particular that would fill a need that had been present since time immemorial. When all was ready, he would find a cooperative wine bar, pivince or coffee house and set up for business. His companions would spread the word, patients would come and for a few coins, he would dispense his wisdom and his cures, mostly to those citizens of Brno too poor or too afraid to visit qualified physicians.
Then, when the supply of sick people ran low, the coffee shop owner became too greedy, or the police became too aware of his presence, he would perform one last service for the community. Using the object around his waist, he would revive part of the now abandoned Salamander routine that Mendel remembered so well. During the performance his trained companions would practice their particular specialty, and then the three of them would leave Brno as quickly as possible.
Yes, thought Cesky Brezen, Brno was a fine place, and just the right place to perform a miracle.