It was another typical cold grey late autumn day when I opened up the shop, and I honestly didn't expect to see any customers with the way the rain had been coming down in a steady drizzle all morning. The lower temperatures didn't bother me in the slightest, but I was well aware of the dampness in the air. And for that matter the wet muddy streets were no joy to navigate either.

This time of year the mud was almost at its worst, second only to the spring thaw and rains. At least spring came with the promise of summer. The unpleasant weather this time of year would soon give way to winter frost.

Happily I didn't have to go out in it, but I would need to clean the muck off our floors if anybody else braved the weather to come visit us. That alone was enough of a reason for me to hope for a quiet lonely two hours behind the counter.

Needless to say my wish went unanswered. No sooner had I stepped away from the door when it opened, and two figures clad in long cloaks entered our store.

I could tell at a glance these men had money, which made it that much more surprising that they'd be out enduring the rain and mud themselves rather than sending servants. Then again their cloaks looked warm and were clearly treated as the water beaded and ran from the material down onto our once-clean floors. Likewise I could see their boots were fine leather, as the men stamped the mud from their feet.

The first man pulled his hood back, and the obvious silk lining only reinforced what I already guessed about these two having money. Except that fact was forgotten as soon as I noticed, it, when I realized I recognized the man standing before me. It was none other than that well-off mercenary, the one who bought our entire stock of healing potions a month or so earlier.

"We've business with your mistress girl," he stated before I could speak. "Please fetch her for us."

I glanced back and forth between the two of them. The second man hadn't lowered his hood yet, he was wearing it far enough forward that it hid most of his face. All I could see was a grey beard over a narrow jaw. His stature put him taller than the mercenary, and I quickly decided he was probably the soldier's boss or patron. Probably a nobleman, considering the way the two of them were dressed.

"Of course sir," I curtsied then hurried to the workshop. "Sis, you've got customers. I think it's a nobleman, and the guy with him is the mercenary that bought all the healing potions a while back."

Cathryn was gracious as usual, she lead the way back out front then greeted the two men politely. She introduced herself then gestured towards the chairs and asked them to take a seat, and suggested I could open some wine for them to enjoy while they talked.

The mercenary glanced at me then looked at Cat and stated, "This is to be a private meeting."

"Anything you have to say to me you can say in front of Valeria," Cat replied smoothly. "She is my sister as well as my apprentice, and she's sworn an oath of secrecy."

The man hesitated a moment, then nodded. Neither of them moved towards the table and chairs though.

"You can call me André," the mercenary finally offered his name. "And my associate is Charles."

Charles finally pulled his hood back, revealing the face of a man in his fifties at least. There were wrinkles around his eyes and along his forehead, his grey hair was thinning on top. He looked dignified though, and I had no doubt whatsoever that he was a noble of some kind or another. Probably someone important, based on all the secrecy.

The older man looked at Cat and I as he stated, "Everything we discuss must be kept in the strictest confidence. Not one word leaves your apothecary, do you understand?"

André added, "I'll spare the crude threats but suffice to say, any indiscretion would be most tragic."

"My sister and I understand completely," Cathryn responded in a calm level tone. "Now what can I do for you gentlemen?"

Charles let out a weary sigh, "I am a physician, responsible for the health of some important persons. One of my patients is suffering certain long-term maladies, and we have exhausted all other options. André secured a supply of your healing potions recently, those have been far and away the most effective treatment we've found to date. Unfortunately they treat only the symptoms, and within a few days the benefits fade and the symptoms return."

"Word of your other successes has reached our ears," the old man continued, "And in desperation my patient's family ordered me to seek your assistance in this matter. It is our hope that the effectiveness of your healing potions can be parlayed into a permanent cure."

By the time he was finished talking my eyes were wide. I was positive he was nobility, but the way he talked about being 'ordered' to do stuff meant he was working for someone even higher up than him. And calling himself a physician only reinforced that impression. Physicians were like healers, except strictly for the noble elite. And even then, most nobles would settle for local healers.

Naturally my sister kept her reaction calm and level. She replied, "I understand. Obviously I'll need to meet the patient -"

"That is quite impossible," André interrupted. "Charles will tell you what you need to know."

Charles nodded his agreement. He explained, "The patient is a boy, twelve years of age. His mother died in childbirth, and it was a difficult pregnancy. The ordeal of his birth left him weak and sickly, his right hand and foot are withered. He has difficulty breathing and poor muscle tone, consequently his height and weight are low for his age. He's only survived this long thanks to constant care and attention, and the unflagging support of his father and older brother."

"Finally," he added, "One dose of your healing potion was enough to bring him added strength and allow him to breath almost normally. It's granted him his first taste of a healthy childhood, but the effects wear off in less than three days. It is his father's hope that you will find a permanent cure before our supply of those potions wear out. If not, we will be ordering a constant supply of them."

Cathryn sighed, "I'm not a healer, let alone a physician. I'm an alchemist, I brew potions. You're asking me to cure someone sight-unseen, when I have no idea what's even wrong with him. Do you understand that anything I come up with is going to be speculation?"

"I do," Charles replied. "And if necessary I will explain those facts to the boy's father to ensure he understands as well."

"Ok," my sister frowned. "I'm guessing the problems are caused by some sort of birth defect. Something wrong with his heart or lungs maybe? The healing potion is patching up the rest of the damage, but it's not healing the root cause since he was born with that rather than it being something inflicted upon him..."

After a few moments of looking thoughtful Cat glanced at me then looked back at the two men. "A major transformation potion might do the trick. We could use that to transform his body from the sickly one he was born to, into one that's strong and healthy. We'll couple that with another healing potion to take care of any stray damage, then follow it up with a permanence potion to seal everything in place."

She warned, "Again this is speculation and guesswork, based on what you've told me. I can't guarantee it'll be a long-term cure. All I can promise is it won't make things any worse."

André and Charles exchanged a glance, then the mercenary asked "What do you need to get started?"

"Without access to the patient there's a caveat," Cathryn replied. "I can brew a potion that'll transform him into a strong healthy twelve year old boy, but he's probably not going to look like he does now. I really need something from him, or a healthy family member, to ensure he doesn't end up looking like a stranger..."

Her voice trailed off as Charles produced a small leather bag from under his cloak. He opened it and started setting out small glass flasks, each with a carefully-written label.

As he did so the older man explained, "I have samples of blood and hair clippings from the patient, his father, and his older brother. The father is fifty-eight years old and his health is reasonable for his age. The brother is twenty-three, and he is quite fit but not as muscular as his father thinks he ought -"

At that moment our door was suddenly flung open and a tall burly man stormed in. His hair, beard, and clothes were soaked from the rain, while his boots and the lower part of his trousers were caked with mud. And despite all that, I could still smell the alcohol on him even from where I stood behind the counter.

What's worse I recognized him, as did Cat. It was Lord Marcus' former bodyguard, Serge. He looked drunk and angry, and it was obvious he was here for trouble.

"Get out!" André ordered. "This is a private meeting!"

The ex-bodyguard ignored both our guests as he stomped towards my sister and I, while Charles scrambled to gather up all the flasks he'd just placed on the counter. Serge shoved the older man aside as he growled at Cat, "I'm going to make you witches pay for whatever you did to Lord Marcus! Your treachery cost me -"

There was a flash of steel followed by a splash of red, and the large brute fell to his knees as both hands went to his throat in a futile attempt to staunch the flow of blood.

Me and Cat were both almost in shock as Serge slumped over into a growing pool of blood while André stood to one side, sword in hand. The mercenary watched impassively as the ex-bodyguard continued to bleed out on the floor of our shop.

"Shit!" Cathryn suddenly exclaimed. She grabbed a healing potion from the shelf behind her and dashed around the counter, "If we can get this into him it'll save his life!"

André caught her around the waist with his left hand and pulled my sister back. He stated calmly, "If you save him I'll just have to kill him again. He's seen Charles' face, who knows how much he heard."

Cat struggled and shouted, "You can't just kill him!"

"I can and I have," the mercenary replied in that same calm voice. He glanced at me and warned, "Stay where you are girl. I won't hurt your sister, as long as you both cooperate."

André turned his attention to the other man, "Charles are you all right?"

"I am," the physician replied with a heavy sigh. "But some of the samples I brought with me have not fared so well."

I looked over the counter and realized he dropped all those flasks when he was shoved. Some of them were broken, and their contents contaminated with bits of glass, mud, and the dying man's blood.

Suddenly I had to close my eyes and look away as a wave of nausea hit me. I turned my back and leaned against the wall as I took some deep breaths, but I could still smell the blood and the image of it was frozen in my mind. At the same time my emotions churned and my mind reeled as it finally sank in.

A man had been murdered in front of me. Our shop was now the scene of a crime, our floor stained with blood. We'd have town guards all over the place. The Lord-Mayor would probably even get dragged into it.

"Val take a deep breath," my sister said. I realized she was by my side, André had released her. "Do you need to sit down? Do you need a drink?"

After a few deep breaths I shook my head and mumbled, "I'll be ok. I just don't want to look at it again."

Cat turned and glared at the mercenary and demanded, "This is your mess, what do you intend to do about it? You've murdered a man in my store, the town guard will be up in arms! Not just any man either, he used to work for the Lord-Mayor's son!"

"Calm yourself," André stated. "I'll speak with the captain of the guard, all this will be taken care of before the sun sets."

"They'll likely have you in irons by then," my sister pointed out.

The mercenary calmly reached under his cloak then pulled out a heavy necklace hidden under his clothes. My eyes widened as I looked at what seemed to be a solid gold medallion. Engraved into one side was an elaborate coat of arms, centred around what appeared to be an heraldic eagle.

"I am Sir André Lebrun," he stated in a low voice. "I'm an agent of the crown, I answer directly to the King himself."

He glanced at the older man and stated, "Lord Charles, I'll leave you to wrap things up with these young women while I fetch the captain of the guard. Bar the door in my absence, don't open it until you hear my voice."

"Of course Sir André," the physician nodded.

By that point I was almost back in shock again, and I tried not to think too hard about the fact that Sir André had to be a royal knight, Lord Charles was possibly the royal physician, and the unnamed boy Cat was asked to help was almost certainly a prince.

Fortunately my sister was handling all these revelations a lot better than myself. She moved to bar the door after André left, then she and Charles continued their conversation as if there weren't a dead body sprawled on the floor next to our counter.

Only three of the flasks Lord Charles had brought were undamaged, and Cat ensured all three were cleaned off before she accepted them and had me place them safely out of sight in her workshop. I was only half paying attention to the rest of their conversation, but I gathered enough to know that my sister accepted the commission, and set a price of fifteen hundred sovereigns for the job which would be completed in ten days.

The old man agreed to the price immediately and even paid half up front. That too was put away out of sight in the workshop.

Shortly after that came a bang at the door and Sir André called that it was him, so Cat went and unbarred it.

I stayed out of the way behind the counter and watched as the captain of the town guard came in, accompanied by two more soldiers. They all took one brief look at the scene, then the two soldiers took hold of the body and dragged it outside into the cold rain. André exchanged some quiet words with the captain, who bowed then turned and left after his men. The door was closed behind them and that was that.

"Is your business here completed?" the knight asked as he looked to Lord Charles.

The older man nodded, "For now. The potions will be ready in ten days time."

"Good," André responded. "Miss Cathryn, Valeria, I will see you both again in ten days. Until then, a little something extra to apologize for the mess."

He left a small purse of coins on the counter, then he and Charles pulled up their hoods and headed back out the door. Just like that Cat and I were alone, and I almost couldn't believe the whole ordeal really happened.

My sister gave me an apologetic look, "We'd better get to work cutie. I hate to say it, but I'm going to need you to grab a mop and clean up in here. I'll find some way to make it up to you later though, alright?"

"Ugh," I grimaced. "Ok sis. I'm going to hold you to that though."

Cat smiled and pulled me into a hug. We exchanged a kiss, then she turned and headed back to her workshop while I went upstairs to get our mop and a bucket.

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