Chapter 2 - The Fangs
"Ah, bonjour monsieur! Vous regardez comme le type qui voudrait une épée comme cela! C'est en or pure... Et était utilizé par le Roi Arthur!" A pushy merchant insisted to Jake, thrusting a scabbard and sword into his field of view, as the young man attempted to make his way along the impossibly crowded market streets of the small French town.
Unfortunately, as interesting as King Arthur's sword would be, it had probably been crafted by the local blacksmith and was, at most, shiny. 'Damn French,' Jacob Grimm repeated to himself each time a new vendor or enthusiastic merchant thrust something his way, 'What I wouldn't give to be back in Germany.'
The bustling streets full of carts and stalls were far too narrow for Jake's liking, and the closeness of the crowds made him anxious and jumpy without the familiar comfort of Wilhelm at his side. As he passed between two busy stalls, Jacob noticed a blissfully empty alleyway that zigzagged between a pair of old stone buildings. Ducking quickly into the narrow entrance, Jake turned the first corner and without warning collided into something.
Jacob sat stunned for a moment before attempting to pick himself up from the unforgivingly hard cobblestones. The tall stranger in front of him offered an outstretched hand and easily pulled Jake to his feet.
"Pardonnez-moi, monsieur. Je ne regardais pas ou j'allais!" Jacob exclaimed, trying his best to keep his French straight as he stammered an apology and hastily brushed the dirt from his pants.
"C'est d'accord, je ne t'ai pas vu," The stranger began hesitantly. "Tiens… est-ce que vous… savez ou je peux trouver..." At this, his voice faltered to silence. Noting the other man's unusual French accent, Jake interjected.
"Mein Herr, I speak German, if you'd prefer?" The younger Grimm offered. Taking in the taller gentleman's black hair, handsomely dark features and expensive, yet well-worn attire, Jake felt sudden apprehension as he looked back along the quiet and uncomfortably empty alleyway.
"Thank God someone in this place speaks German, I can barely order an ale in French, let alone have a proper conversation!" The stranger exclaimed with a hearty chuckle. "As I was saying, or trying to say at least, do you know of an establishment around here where I could purchase bullets... Preferably cast of silver?" The gentleman asked, anxiously running a hand through his unusually long and dark hair.
"Mein Herr, you'll have a hard time finding those in a small town like Sélestat," Jake started, but seeing the man's face fall in disappointment, he continued hesitantly. "If you are in dire need of them, I could sell you a round or two from my personal collection?"
The man's face brightened immediately and he gave Jake a grateful smile. "Name your price. Herr…?" He added, extending a hand to the younger Grimm.
"Jacob Grimm," Jake offered with a smile, his earlier apprehension fading as he accepted a firm handshake from the taller man.
"Do you mean… Are you one of the Brothers Grimm?" The gentleman questioned with a raised eyebrow, attempting to hide his shock as he accepted Jacob's outstretched hand. No matter how hard he looked at the spectacled man, he found it difficult to believe that this soft spoken person could be one of the renowned brothers.
Jacob's smile momentarily became strained as he replied, "For better, or worse, indeed I am."
Biting his lip, the stranger examined Jake thoughtfully, "I wonder... If it isn't too much trouble, would you be able to instruct me on how to kill a werewolf? I could pay you for your trouble." Instantly, Jacob's expression brightened.
"A werewolf? You've seen a werewolf?" The younger Grimm questioned breathlessly, "You must tell me about it on our way to the inn." Turning back into the busy street, Jacob was so intent on listening to his newfound companion that he barely gave the crowded streets a second thought, breaking his attention only to ask the other man's name out of politeness.
"Forgive my lack of manners, I was absolutely carried away with excitement at the thought of receiving assistance with my problem. My name is Schwarz Prinz," The man replied with a grin, "As you can see, my mother was either very unoriginal or had a cruel sense of humor," Schwarz continued with a gesture to his black hair.
Jacob returned the grin with a chuckle, but wasted no time in returning to the previous topic of conversation, "So Herr Prinz, you have a werewolf problem. Has it injured anyone?" He inquired, beginning a mental log of relevant details and simultaneously chastising himself for leaving his journal at the inn.
Frowning, Schwarz thought for a moment, "I…it hasn't hurt anyone, yet. But the possibility is there, so I must take care of it before something happens."
"I suppose you could look at it that way, though I don't understand why you'd want to kill it. Most werewolves are only harmful during the full moon, and even then they may be subdued," Jacob explained enthusiastically. "Also, they're quite amazing animals," the younger Grimm continued wistfully, recalling the countless volumes he had read about lycanthropy.
Jacob glanced over at the other man, trying to gauge his reaction. Schwarz's jaw clenched momentarily before he responded flatly, "Vicious beasts are hardly what I would term beautiful, Jacob. Unless there's an infallible way of subduing it, I'd rather not take the chance."
"Of course, I understand. I just want you to understand that death isn't the only option," Jacob replied gently as he led the dark-haired man down another grimy cobblestone street towards the inn.
"Another option is to give the werewolf nightshade infusions which would sedate him while he's transformed. Though, it's rather experimental and probably not an altogether pleasant experience," Jacob confessed.
Schwarz broke his stride momentarily, pausing to lock eyes with Jake. "This… Nightshade? Is it readily available and is it effective?" he questioned, unable to completely hide the strained hope in his voice.
"Nightshade, belladonna, Devil's herb, the plant goes by many names. It's an herb with dark purple flowers, glossy oval leaves, and black berries. The roots and berries are quite deadly, but the plant as a whole is just as dangerous," Jacob recounted.
At his words, Schwarz's mood brightened considerably, "You mean the black cherry plant? Those grow like weeds in the forests near my home in Aalen!"
Jacob couldn't help but smile at how intently the other man listened as he recited the rather simple instructions for preparing the infusion.
"In short, it is fairly easy. The most important elements are the nightshade leaves and the mint extract, which acts as a sedative and pain-killer," Jake finished, stopping in front of the town's rather uninspiring and worn down inn, l'Auberge Sélestat.
"Sounds simple enough. Now, what will this infusion do to the unlucky drinker?" Prinz wondered, following Jake into the shabby inn.
"Well, belladonna severely dilates the pupils, effectively blinding them during the night. It also works as a mild poison to slow motor skills. On the other hand, the mint dulls the pain and acts as a sedative," Jacob explained as he led the other man through the cramped lobby and up the narrow stairway to his room.
"And you say this is supposed to be better than a bullet?" Schwarz asked dryly.
"Well," Jake replied, swinging open the heavily scratched and dented oak door, "At least it's not quite such a permanent solution."
"Jacob! I was wondering where you'd gone off to," Wilhelm greeting his brother in exasperation, "Did you get lost or…" Pausing as he noticed the stranger behind Jake, Will looked from his brother to the well-dressed man who gave him a friendly nod.
"Who is that? Jacob, are you…" Wilhelm trailed off, glancing back and forth from his younger brother to the dark-haired man. "My dear brother… never brought back a lass and yet here you are…" he added, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"What are you on about, Will?" Jake asked, looking back and forth between Schwarz and his brother with a puzzled expression. "Wilhelm, this is Herr Prinz..." He continued hesitantly, until Wilhelm cut him off with a glare.
"I don't want to know his name," Will said, glaring past Jake at the other man. "Why did you decide to conduct this debauchery here?" He added angrily.
"Is my name any of your business, with manners like yours?" Schwarz challenged with the hint of a snarl, causing Wilhelm to pale further.
"Jake… Jacob, he's got fangs for God's sake!" Will exclaimed, running a hand through his hair in agitation.
Startled by his brother's unfathomable reaction, Jacob took a step back from Wilhelm before cautiously venturing an answer. "Of course he does, Will. Why else would you be so angry? I brought him here so I could sell him some... What?" Jake stopped as he noticed the annoyed expression which had spread across his older brother's face.
"Every single thing is about fairy tales with you, isn't it?" With a dry humorless laugh, the older Grimm pushed past the two men, slamming the heavy door in his wake.
"Exactly what did I do to annoy him, again?" Jake wondered, turning to Schwarz for clarification.
Attempting to hide his amusement at the younger man's naivety, Schwarz responded with an apologetic shrug of his shoulders, "I haven't the faintest idea."
"Glad I'm not the only one… Oh, right. The infusion!" Jake exclaimed, searching the small room for some parchment and a writing implement. "You still don't want the bullets, do you?" Jacob continued, digging through a suitcase full of ammunition, ropes and pulleys.
"Maybe a round? I'm not sure anymore," Schwarz admitted as he leaned heavily against the door. "Better safe than sorry, and all that."
"I don't think they're necessary, but I'll give them to you if it would make you feel more comfortable," Jacob conceded, pulling a clinking velour pouch out of the suitcase. As he handed over the silver bullets to Schwarz, Jake locked eyes with the taller man. "I would sleep much easier if you promised not to resort to anything too permanent," the younger Grimm said softly, dropping the heavy pouch into Schwarz's outstretched hand.
"I'll remember that." Swiftly pocketing the items, Herr Prinz continued, "How much do I owe you for the silver rounds and professional expertise?"
"Not a thing," Jake replied with a smile, "The pleasure was all mine."
The other man's brows raised in surprise at Jacob's words, "I will not forget you or your kindness, Jacob Grimm," the dark-haired man responded with a slight bow, before taking his leave.
'A werewolf, I can't believe my luck,' The younger Grimm thought with a smile as he packed up the suitcase's contents.
Author's Note: Thank you for reading. This is the updated version of Chapter 2 uploaded on 02/2023.