When his assistant announced the arrival of Napp's monks and his own vintner he hurried behind his fine desk and pulled a random document into his hand.
"Ah, Mendel, yes ... er ... come in." He had just seen Klacel, and like most respectable persons of status in Brno he did not like the 'Hussite' monk, not because he knew him but because of what he knew of him.
"Good day, Herr Druer, it is good to see you again," Mendel said politely.
"Good day .. er ... indeed. I trust all is well with you and with Abbot Napp?"
"Very well thank you," he was told, "and your family?"
"Fine, fine thank you," said the wine merchant with more feeling than he had expected. "Now what can I do for you?"
"It is about your wine, we think we know how to stop it souring."
"They want to add Devils Sulfur to the burcak," Hola Teplicka could not help saying. "I have never heard of such a thing!"
"What's this?" Druer was not sure he had heard right.
"We want to try and stop the bacteria from growing in your wine and turning it sour," Mendel said hurriedly before Teplicka could say more. "We have done a series of experiments up at the Monastery and we think we have found a way of preventing bacterial growth without stopping the fermentation of the yeasts."
"Foolishness, all foolishness," Teplicka huffed.
"But will it work?" Druer heard himself say.
"Of that we are not sure," Klacel admitted, "but it certainly worked in the laboratory, and now we want to try it out on a real barrel of wine."
"A waste of time," said the vintner sharply, "souring is a curse, it would be better to go and ask the help of Saint Hugh." He did not notice his master jump at the name of the Saint.
"It might be a curse," retorted Klacel, "and a little prayer never hurts, but this souring is also due to the growth of bacteria, which we can stop with or without the help of the Saint."
All four men before the desk looked expectantly at the one man behind the desk, and the only one of them who could give permission to make the next move. A day previously Herr Druer would not have hesitated in refusing to meddle with tradition and would never have allowed all this new fangled science, which he did not trust, anywhere near his barrels. Several times since that fateful day when he had asked for Abbot Napp's help, he had had cause to regret it. What could those monks do? Napp was known for his radical ideas, which were not always trustworthy. Look at who he had allowed to mess with his wine - Klacel the Czech nationalist of all people!
But today was different somehow. He felt more mellow, more at ease, more ready to try things that were new.
"What would you need?" he asked, and Hola Teplicka's mouth fell open.