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Chapter L : Prometheus
Earlnight of Primoris, Ninth Day of Autumnmoon
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As soon as night fell, Józef and his companions set course for the Kitezhian marshlands. Their goal, the ancient tree, Prometheus. Inside was a rich, amber sap that contained magical healing properties. Supposedly, it could cure any illness, though it was as rare as it was effective. Józef hoped it would cure the curse plaguing poor Rosa and fulfill his end of the bargain with Bram.
Géorg took them as far as the sandskipper could go. The sorcerers navigated, while the one-armed man drove through the darkness at greats speeds. Nighttime drew out nocturnal creatures, including spawn, and they ran into several of these beasts along the way. These included skeeters, which resembled giant mosquitos that could fire acidic enzymes from their proboscis; and jugars, which resembled two-headed hyenas with tongues several feet long that could wrap around unsuspecting prey and drag them to a quick death. Fortunately, Józef’s soldiers were experienced with these beasts, and travelling with a Gnostic Knight ended up being a smart move. Bram’s skills were unparalleled. He cut through the spawn with ease.
The plains gave way to mires, cluttered with rotted tree stumps and soggy basins. Géorg’s sandskipper had issues traveling over water, so he parked it on a grassy knoll, while Konrad volunteered to lead a smaller party the rest of the way. Józef insisted on joining, despite his advisor’s protests. Not that he was naïve to the danger, but he remembered the route his father showed him, and he was confident he could find Prometheus sooner than anyone else. Konrad chose Bram, two soldiers, and a sorcerer to accompany them. The rest stayed behind to protect Géorg and the sandskipper. With tools in hand to extract the sap, the six men ventured forth, into the swamp.
Calling it dangerous was an understatement. Few in Kitezh ventured anywhere close, and those who did rarely made it out alive. Carnivorous plants dangled innocent vines from trees in hopes that animals—or people—would brush up against them. Poisonous vipers lay quietly under stagnant water, waiting for prey to come within striking distance. Other creatures created pits in the mud, trapping careless creatures that managed to step in the wrong place. Only those intimately familiar with the terrain knew how to make it through.
Józef’s father used to bring him to the marshes during summertime to hunt rare fowl, called windriders. The birds had large plumes of silver feathers jutting from their tail, and capturing them was considered a prestigious prize. Affluent Kitezhians made it a sport, though a treacherous one at that. Even so, Henrich had a hunger for peril. Konrad had chaperoned these trips before, and the young king wondered if his advisor now relived the same anxieties.
Bram drew near, keeping his voice low. “Your Majesty, how do we know when we’re close?”
The young king was happy to share. “Prometheus is ancient. Quite possibly thousands of years old. Its roots are massive and have staked its territory against many other plant species. We should look for a clearing. Nothing else will grow within fifty spans of it.”
Bram nodded. He and the others had their luminess ready. The dim blue rocks provided just enough light to search without attracting predators. The soldiers fanned out to cover more area, but they were slow and thorough, careful to avoid the many dangers. Each person was briefed on the various hazards. Quicksand, sinkholes, and razorweevel burrows were abundant.
Despite being careful, one of Józef’s men ran into a köderbusch. The sticky weed latched onto his face, planting active spores in his flesh. Fortunately, the sorcerer reached him in time to cleanse the infection. He was forced to muffle the man’s screams, as thousands of embryonic cells tunneled into his facial tissue.
Without his healing touch, the pain would have subsided, but the spores would have made their way into the bloodstream. Sadly for anyone unfortunate enough to receive a köderbusch infection, the remaining process was irreversible. In a few short days, the spores would feed on the body until its blood and organs were consumed. Some of the spores would send out roots, and the plant would continue its cycle to maturity. Reproductive vines took another year to form, but short of uprooting the entire shrub, they were difficult to eradicate. Fortunately for the rest of Gaia, these fearsome plants were only known to reside in the East Kitezhian swamplands.
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Despite the muffled screams, Józef worried that the noise might have already attracted predators. He motioned for the group to huddle together, just in case. The sorcerer raised his hand and hissed. “Hold up! I detect movement.”
Bram and the soldiers drew their swords. Even Konrad prepared his knife.
The sorcerer spoke a few words of magic. “Spawn are approaching from multiple sides. They have us surrounded.”
“Do you know what species?” Konrad asked.
“Blood leeches, Sir.”
The name invoked a choir of curses.
Bram approached. “Tell me more about these creatures. Do they have any weaknesses?”
Konrad explained. “They are parasites with a taste for human blood. They attack in large numbers, and they will stage their approach from multiple angles. They can jump quite far, too. Don’t let them latch on. Their bite causes paralysis in seconds.”
Józef had a plan. “Don’t worry, Konrad. I know how to deal with them.”
His minister eyed him skeptically. “What do you propose, My Lord?”
Józef was surprised he didn’t remember. “Remember last summer?” He took off his backpack and removed his lute. “I had this with me, and it came in pretty handy.”
Konrad’s eyes widened at the sight of it. “I can’t believe you actually brought that thing.”
Józef explained to the others. “The leeches can be lulled by music. Cover me while I play. It should buy us some time.”
He arranged the instrument in his hands as the spawn approached. Right at the edge of visibility, a half-dozen sluglike creatures entered into view. They were larger than he remembered, almost the size of cats. They had small appendages in front, but thick hind legs, like a frog’s. They looked ready to pounce. As they approached, their lips peeled back to expose a mouthful of teeth.
“Quickly, Your Majesty!” Konrad urged.
Cradling his lute, Józef strummed and sent a sweet melody through the air. The blood leeches stopped their advancement, and they swayed from side to side, as if in a mental stupor.
“Whatever you’re doing, keep it up,” Bram told him.
One of the soldiers raised a hand. “Quickly, over here!” The others gathered, while Józef played. Further down the path, there appeared to be a clearing.
Konrad looked pleased. “My Lord, the Prometheus tree! It appears to be down here.”
Józef followed, careful not to lose focus on his music. “Don’t puncture the wood too deep. And only take the amount of sap we need. It’s our responsibility to make sure this cure is available to those who come after us.”
As he entered the clearing, he was shocked to see a bunch of long faces. “What’s wrong?”
There was no need to explain. He looked up and saw the remains of Prometheus. Once a mighty tree, three spans in width and fifty spans in height, was now an empty husk, with skeletal branches as the only reminder of what was. He couldn’t believe his eyes. In the space of a year, it had rotted from the inside out. Many of the limbs had cracked and fallen. There was barely anything left standing.
“Keep playing, My Lord,” Konrad pleaded. “We’re vulnerable in the clearing, but don’t worry. If any sap remains at the base, we’ll find it.”
Bram stepped forward. “Watch out, Konrad. I see movement!”
Sure enough, a dracobeetle emerged from a mound of rotten shavings. It must have been one of many insect-like spawn to create a burrow inside the wood. A set of razor-sharp pincers sliced through where Konrad’s foot had been. Luckily, the Knight pulled him back just in time.
The dracobeetle crawled out from under the mound and raised its back. A plume of fire belched from a set of glands along its rear. The nearby soldiers dove out of the way, narrowly missing being incinerated.
Bram was quick to act. Using his armor to resist the flames, he went in with his sword and cut through the beetle’s backside. The creature’s guts spilled into the mud, ending the threat.
Konrad hauled the carcass aside and started digging. “Give me a hand. If a dracobeetle was here, it had to have been close to healthy wood. There might be sap in the roots at the bottom of this burrow.
Bram and the others joined suit, using their tools—and even their bare hands—to scrape away the dirt and rotten wood chips. Konrad was waist deep when his spade made an audible thunk against a hard surface.
Bram’s mood brightened considerably. “I think you found it!”
Konrad nodded and readied the hand drill. They needed to go a foot deep into the wood, but sure enough, a golden liquid soon emerged. Konrad collected it with a tube of glass.
Józef never ceased his playing, until they had left the clearing and the blood leeches far behind. He stretched his sore arms and fingers as he hiked back to the sandskipper.
On the way, Bram drew near. “I want to thank you for holding up your end of the bargain. That was some innovative thinking when it came to the spawn. I don’t think anyone else would have thought to use music.”
Józef smiled. “My father always encouraged my creativity, even though it sometimes came at the expense of my studies. Opa … my grandfather … would often chastise both of us.”
Józef felt melancholy thinking of his father, so he let the matter drop. He also remembered how he felt when Angela lay on her death bed, uncertain whether she would recover. At least in Rosa’s case, he had done his best to give her a fighting chance. It wasn’t full atonement for his recklessness in bringing Angela to Rungholt, but it was a start.
He decided to give Bram some space. Nearby, the sorcerer was already casting spells on the sap to prepare the serum. He was eager to get back to the sandskipper, hopefully to deliver good news.