THE APOTHECARY OF SAN JUAN

 THE APOTHECARY OF SAN JUAN

The tired old chemist sat on his stool trying to keep cool from the blistering heat outside. 

As cold sweat ran down his neck, his palms were too moist to hold the tweezers in his fingers, and any kind of enterprise had to be delayed until the heat relented.

 Under pressure from the local lord to complete the task before sunrise had placed an unbearable pressure on the weak and slumped shoulders of the old man.

 He knew only too well that failure was unthinkable, and the lives of his family were endangered if he failed to complete the task. The lead deposit that had been provided was of superior stock, but it was never going to transform in to gold as he had been instructed. He understood only too well that the alchemy myth was about to be exposed, as was his neck to a noose, garrotte or sword.

Lord Constapacion had been quite exact in his words as he instructed the chemist to transpose the elements as required. "Gold by dawn or your head will be fed to the Condors". 

Transmutation was a lie, and the feeble old man knew this only too well. However, unless he came up with the required product he was doomed, and what would happen to his numerous grandchildren who depended on him for their survival. Thinking fast he decided that his best option was to contact Madame Methane, an old adversary who had perfected  a peculiar modus operandi for survival. 

Madame Methane was renowned for expertise in the production of odious gases and may be able to ignite his mission to create gold.

 

To be continued......