What she saw shocked her almost as much as being there in the first place. Stale sawdust covered the floor of a long, thin room that had not been painted in 20 years. A wooden bar counter ran along most of one wall, and behind it sat a bored man of indeterminate age, who had not shaved in several days. He saw his new customer without any interest or animation, and when she hesitatingly approached him, he simply grunted at her question and directed her to an even darker part of his establishment located at the back of the room.
Partly concealed in the shadow were a series of booths and tables, and in one of these booths sat a young man with dark curly hair. She approached with caution, and halted a few paces away, not knowing what to do next.
"Bohemian Birch?" she said at last in halting German, at which the gypsy in the booth looked up, as if seeing her for the first time.
"Cesky Brezen," he replied in Czech, but said nothing more.
"I was told you could help me," the poor woman said at last, after an uncomfortable pause.
"Did they," was the reply. Brezen did not like customers such as this one. Middle class women were always a problem, and, if not handled properly, had the nasty habit of bringing the police into his life. It was an encounter with just such a person in Prague that had led to their present difficulties.
"Yes," Frau Druer said, taking another step forward, "I was told you were a gypsy herbalist who had special powers, and could help with certain ... er ... difficulties I am having."
Brezen looked at her again. Women such as Frau Druer had enough money to consult expensive gorgio physicians, who pampered them, listened to their problems - real and imaginary - and fed them colored liquids as cures. This one was not coming to him for a cure or poultice. No, there were only two reasons why the fancy wives of tacho rat Gajo's came to seek his services.
"Fuli tschai?" he asked in the Romani tongue, not really expecting her to tell him if she had been a 'bad girl' or not.
"I'm sorry," she said, looking flustered, "I don't understand."
"None of us ever do," was the philosophical response.
"I can pay," Frau Druer said, suddenly thinking that this was the reason why the gypsy was not helping her. She opened her purse and took out a gold coin.
Cesky Brezen's nose flared. He had been right, this woman wanted only one of two things; either she wanted to conceive a child, or get rid of one that was not her husband's. His potions and cures only cost his patients a handful of copper coins. It was his 'special' treatments that required the crossing of his palm with silver or gold. He nodded in the direction of an empty bench.
"What do you need?" he asked bluntly, "You are not ill."
Frau Druer looked in horror at the seat she was being offered, gasped and then gulped before taking all of the tiny packet of courage that remained to her and using it to sit upon the offered bench.
"I ... I ...," she stammered pitifully as her eyes darted in alarm around the room. "I need ... I need help in ..." She could not continue.
Drawing on the lessons his mother had taught him, Cesky Brezen looked at his patient, noted the wild look and the twisting of the hands. "It is a matter of a child, is it not?" he said, keeping his eyes firmly on her face, where his answer would be written. He was not disappointed. Frau Druer jumped in her seat as if she had been stabbed.
"How did you know?" she gasped, her eyes flashing even more.
He shrugged, but did not answer her question. "A boy or a girl?"
Amazed at what was happening, Frau Druer answered in a small voice, "My husband wants a boy. It is very important to him."
Inwardly Brezen smiled to himself. Dealing with these women was all too easy. "But, so far, you have not been blessed." It was more a statement than a question, to which the hypnotized woman could only nod a reply.
He reached out and took her hand. Reflexively she pulled back, but he held on firmly and drew the quivering palm into the small pool of light from a weak candle. Holding it firmly with his left hand, Brezen began to follow the lines etched in Frau Druer's palm using the index finger of his right hand. Then he looked up.
"I see your problem," he said at last, "and your future is quite clear to me. Your unhappiness will pass, and all will be well, if and only if you follow my advice. Will you do that?"
Her eyes wide with wonder, she nodded again.
"You are an honest woman, with much love in your heart, but your husband, while wanting a child, it not very interested in you. He comes to you only rarely, does he not?"
Again his only answer was a sad, jerking movement of her head.
Brezen continued in a voice that he had heard his mother use many times in many similar situations. "He has problems with intimacy, the kind of intimacy between a man and a woman that is necessary for the begetting of a child. This is not your fault; you are willing, but he is weak."
"I do my duty when ever I am asked," she said weakly, not knowing how a stranger could be so totally aware of her innermost feelings and private family secrets. "But, many times, he ..." he voice tailed off again. Even under Brezen's powerful influence she could not complete that thought.
"Then here is what you must do." He took out a small packet of stiff paper from one of his pockets, and two glass vials of liquid from a canvas scrip beside him. "Place two gold coins in this packet," he said, and waited while Frau Druer obeyed him. He took the packet from her, placed it on the table and sealed it shut with red wax that he melted in the candle flame. When the packet of gold coins was firmly sealed, he weighed it in his hand for a moment, then returned it to the woman.
"Keep this safe," he said firmly, "do not open it for seventy two days, and do not let your husband see it at all, or nothing will work for you. Now, in these vials are two of the most powerful potions I possess. Here is what you must do. In two days there will be a full moon. That evening arrange with your servants that you will dine alone with your husband, and have them prepare all his favorite foods. Have them open three bottles of good red wine, and pass the packet with the coins three times over each bottle. As the coins pass over one bottle, you will feel a tingle in your fingers. Take that bottle and empty into it the contents of one vial. Make sure you and your husband both drink from this wine. Do you understand?"
Frau Druer indicated that she did indeed understand.
"Good," he went on, "Your next moment of intimacy should be a fruitful one, but, just in case, I have given you a second vial. In fifteen days after using the first vial, repeat what I have told you for a second evening, then hide away the packet of coins far from daylight and do not open it until your child, a boy, is delivered. Give the gold to him as a present. These pieces will be his lucky charm and keep him safe for the rest of his life."
He grunted, then said, "Now go, I have done all I can for you."
"What do I owe you?" Frau Druer asked the gypsy, not sure if their business was over.
"What do you believed my services are worth?" he responded, and watched the expressions move across her face. He could read them plainly. On one hand she believed she had been given the solution the major problem in life, and she should be generous. On the other hand, she was a frugal and careful wife, who, probably was not given much discretionary money by her husband. He would demand an accounting if she had a sudden and unexplained expenditure. He watched her do the calculations.
Finally she placed upon the table some silver coins of modest value, and Brezen swept them into his hand without even looking at them; he had been right about the woman. He turned away from her, and after a moment's hesitation, she twitched her cape back into position, adjusted her hat, and moved out of the wine bar as quickly as possible, still clutching her precious cargo in her hand. She was so agitated she did not see Brother Timothy standing in the deep shadow by the door.
Back at the table Cesky Brezen reached into his pocket and took out an identical packet to the one Frau Druer had carried away, with a laugh he ripped it open and two gold coins dropped out. His companions joined him in his mirth. While she had been sitting at the table and watching him seal the packet with wax, Brezen had switched packets, substituting for the one with the coins, an identical one containing two heavy but worthless disks of lead. This he had then given to his mark, and she had not noticed the difference. In a couple of months she would either be with child and happy enough to forgive him, or she would not, either way, Brezen would be far from Brno.
Brother Timothy took note of the gypsies and what they were doing, stored away the information about Frau Druer, and made his way back to the monastery turning over in his mind what he had just seen.