There had been an agreement, and a time had been set. The woman who knocked on the door wore a hooded cloak and was dressed in rags. One hand was gloved in wool, and the other looked out of place for such a person. The right hand, the hand which was knocking, was slender, its nails well manicured. When the door opened, she lowered her hand and allowed it to slip beneath her cloak.
"Ah yes, Mrs. Pembroke. How lovely to see you. A shame to hear about your husband, really." The woman who greeted her had dark eyes, though her hair was quite coppery in appearance. She spoke with a Breeish accent, but did not have the appearance of a person from Bree. Indeed, she was such a hodgepodge of characteristics that it was hard to tell her lineage. She was taller than the woman at the door, yet slender, in a rather unpleasing to the eye way. She could not have been more than thirty summers, but her eyes had an old, rather hardened look to them. She beckoned Mrs. Pembroke inside with the fingers of her right hand, a hand unnaturally withered for someone of her age.
Mrs. Pembroke followed after the woman silently. Now was not the time for speaking. The darkened room of the shop was lit by a few well placed tapers here and there, and it was cold, even during this time of year, for there was no kindled hearth. Around the room were shelves and shelves of bottles and phials and jars and cannisters.
"Have a seat, do, Mrs. Pembroke." The woman was known only to Mrs. Pembroke as Madam I. She wondered what the "I" stood for, and if it were really the letter of any of her names. She was recommended Madam I on good authority, though it took some doing to coax the woman out of the shadows.
Mrs. Pembroke took a seat. She kept her hood over her head, allowed it to obscure her face, and drew her cloak near, wrapping it about herself out of obscuring herself as much as the chill. The chair was a solid wood, and rather large, but servicable. There was little in the way of elegance in Madam I's shop.
"Do tell, Mrs. Pembroke, how may I be of service?" The woman regarded Mrs. Pembroke with a hint of a smirk, placing her hands about her hips. Her own attire was simple yet--surprisingly--elegant. A dress of black wool, which was servicable yet of a fine make.
"I am hoping, Madam, to get rid of some rats that plague my house. Indeed, since Mr. P. had the misfortune of leaving this world, I can almost see nothing but rats. I need for them to go, and I cannot think of the proper solution." Mrs. Pembroke put on her most tragic of airs, though keeping her head lowered.
"My darling girl," replied Madam I, clucking her tongue, "I am afraid that will never do. There are several ways of ridding oneself of rodents. The first, is to set a trap. Did you think of that?"
"I thought of it, yes. But I do not know exactly the trap to ensnare such a creature. I have looked at it all ways, and I cannot possibly think of how to do so," answered Mrs. Pembroke.
"The second is to snuff out the rodent's food source. Have you locked the pantry? I find that the more often a rat is unfed, the more likely it is to leave your home and look elsewhere to make its abode. Did you try that?"
"Why yes," replied Mrs. Pembroke. "It was my first intention. To starve the rodent out of the house. But I do not believe it to be very effective in this case." Mrs. Pembroke set her hands neatly in her lap. The other woman seemed to contemplate her answer.
"Then there is one more solution, Mrs. P. The most final of solutions, really. Kill them. Now, I know that as a woman ours is not to bludgeon a little rodent to death. But there are other ways..." Madam I regarded the woman with a glistening eye.
"What other ways, Madam? For I am very, very eager to rid myself of rodents." Mrs. Pembroke kept her eyes on her feet.
"A little elixir. Let me see if I cannot find such a thing for you. Something that is lethal yet odorless, tasteless, and might be mixed easily into a rodent's offering of food, and kill it." She moved toward one of the further shelves, her hand grazing several bottles and jars. She examined their labels and clucked her tongue again.
"There are plants....but I believe this is better. Those in the South call it zarnikh, but I believe we here call it arsenic. Tasteless, odorless, effective. In small doses it may sicken or even kill a Man. But that is not what you desire, of course. You are simply killing rats." The woman smiled, getting out a metal scoop to measure from the jar.
"I have a great many rats, though, Madam. I hope that I will be able to kill them all in the manner you mention." Mrs. Pembroke looked up, observing the other woman from beneath her hood. The other woman smiled.
"I can assure you, I will have all that you need. For a price."
"Name it, do."
"Five silver, and I wish you to remove your hood, Mrs. Pembroke." There was a pallid smile on the woman's otherwise rather dark cheek.
"Six silver and no looking."
"No, no, that will not do. I am discreet. Five silver, take off your hood and I will tell no one. I merely like looking at the person with whom I am dealing."
"Ten silver and no looking."
"You drive a delicious deal, but I am afraid I will not haggle on this one. Five silver and your face or you will get nothing from this place."
Mrs. Pembroke sighed and slipped off her hood. Her skin was flawlessly pale, her full lips rosy. Her gaze was an icy blue one, and her raven locks were bound tightly behind her, in a severe bun.
"Are you satisfied?"
"Yes, quite, actually. You are not used to wearing rags, and you do not often sport such a severe coiffure. Indeed, Mrs. P., you are used to a life of luxury, though you do not live one here. I find it amusing that you come to me, but I am satisfied. Six silver, please."
"Six?"
"Time is money, my dear, and we cannot all be waiting all the time." Madam I put out her hand, and Mrs. Pembroke placed the coins in its palm.
"A pleasure," replied Madam I. "I am used to helping women in desperate situations. I consider it my calling in life. I am something of a saint, of course. And I will help you, my dear. Here, take this now. If you are to use it, take out three teaspoons and mix it in drink. It will cure your rodent problem by far." She handed the small phial over to the woman, who took it with her gratitude, after covering her head with the cloak again.
"Thank you, Madam I," she replied, rising up to leave.
"It is a keen pleasure, my dear girl. I hope I will soon hear how it goes...." She grinned with crooked teeth, opening the door and sending Mrs. Pembroke out into the night.
