Waiting for Lord Wylis, he started reading the advanced chemistry booklet he had received before Lord Wylis had gone to Maidenpool. It was a thin book, yet he was still struggling to grasp everything. Organic chemistry was hard.
"Qyburn."
"My lord." Qyburn put away the book quickly and helped Lord Wylis with the large sack he was carrying on his back. "This is?"
"Bread gone soft, overripe fruit, a handful of grains, meat bones, wood ash, and some charcoal to round it out. Brace yourself, Qyburn. We are about to make the greatest discovery Westeros has ever seen."
Qyburn's brows shot up in excitement. He never took Lord Wylis' words for lies or jests. Until now, whatever the young lord had said, he'd done it. Be it toppling a dynasty or teaching him the secrets of medicine and the body.
"What is it, if I may ask, my lord?"
"I taught you the germ theory a year ago. Do you still remember it?"
Qyburn nodded furiously. Of course, he remembered. It was the most groundbreaking realization of his. Finding out that there lived invisible living germs all around, that most dismissed as miasma, was revolutionary for him.
"I remember, my lord."
"Today, we begin work on a cure, the very bane of these foul germs. As fire fights fire, so life must fight life to put them down. It is called penicillin, and I will say this plainly. Making it will try our patience."
He watched Lord Wylis eagerly enter the experimentation chamber. He followed right behind, trying to digest the words. He understood it, but couldn't understand its weight.
"How do we make it, my lord? And what will it heal?" He asked keenly like a young student following the old, wise teacher.
"We brew it from mold, Qyburn. Not just any mold, mind you, a particular kind we'll raise ourselves. You'll learn the trick of it as we go. As for what it mends? A fair bit. Cuts that rot instead of closing. Battle wounds that turn hot and swollen. Blood poisoning after an injury or birth. Lung maladies. Throat sickness. Some fevers that come from germs spreading through the body. It does nothing for broken bones, poxes, parasites, or wasting sickness like consumption. If the illness comes from germs invading the body, it can stop them. If it does not, it's useless."
Promptly, Qyburn knew why Lord Wylis was doing this. With so many women in the castle, and Lord Wylis' particular addiction to siring children, it made sense. Qyburn had aided Lady Lyanna, Lady Ashara, Lady Anna, and many more in their childbirth. All women bore Lord Wylis' seed, and Seven's mercy; the seed was always big and fat. It was only a matter of time before a woman faced severe misfortune and died during childbirth. But with this penicillin, things would change.
"My Lord, are we going to keep this discovery a secret?"
"No. Any remedy we discover that makes childbirth safer and easier, we will share with all of Westeros. Every woman deserves a chance to live, even when fate turns cruel."
Qyburn could swear he saw sorrow on Lord Wylis' face, as if the lord had lost a babe to it. But he couldn't remember any. Perhaps, he simply didn't know? He didn't ask, however.
"I understand, my lord. A most noble sentiment, truly. Yet I would counsel we keep this invention to ourselves. From what you say, the making of it is no simple task. I have little trust in the Citadel, and they move at the pace of a weary snail. If it can be done, perhaps we might sell it to the Citad—"
"No, we'll not sell it to them. They'd hoard it, use it only to keep kings and high lords breathing. Once I have it right, I'll put a full band of men on it the whole year through. We'll sell it low but still make coin, because the cost to brew it is small. The point is to get every corner of Westeros accustomed to it. Not just maesters, but midwives and hedge healers too.
"And mark this, the invention will bear your name and mine. When King Robert arrives, I'll have him set down a royal ledger of inventors and their works, so no man can steal the credit or the coin. With the King's seal and my own hand behind it, few will dare cross us."
Qyburn opened his mouth to speak, but shut it soon after. Clearly, Lord Wylis had given this more thought than him. And having that royal ledger seemed like a fine idea. With the throne's backing, the Citadel won't move too much.
"How do we start, my lord?"
"By preparing our minds for the boredom we're about to sit through."
Qyburn thought it was a joke.
Yet again, he was proven wrong. After setting up all the tools made of copper sheets and glass, they started with sterilization. The experimentation chamber turned into an alchemist's workshop soon after.
He followed Lord Wylis' command and set up the slices of moist bread and citrus peels. They created a large batch to ensure their chances of success. After that, they had to wait days, so they started to work on other things needed to process that mold.
There were so many steps. It was truly boring because after the first few times, the work became dull. Yet, with Lord Wylis there, he didn't complain.
Occasionally, Lord Wylis would leave to oversee other ongoing projects across the town. And in that manner, a few days passed. Yet, the first whole batch of mold failed. All mold was black or red.
After that, they worked on cleaning the chamber more, making it more sterilized. They tried to cultivate another batch of mold after that.
This time, they were successful.
Qyburn was excited at first, but only to realise that the incubation stage needed five to ten more days. During that time, they continued to make more batches of mold, working on making the chamber more sterile. The goal was to reach a higher rate of success with the mold.
And thank heavens they did that because the first batch of incubated mold failed. Hence, the second batch and then the third batch were made. Even the second failed, and only half of the third batch gave them results.
Qyburn already knew that the Citadel wouldn't be able to make this even if they had all the written instructions. Those old fools lacked true curiosity and patience.
At last, they filtered the broth from the mold and gently heated it over low fire to evaporate half the water, concentrating the penicillin. He got scolded once for not ensuring it didn't boil. He learned a lot from that experience.
In the fourth stage, they added vinegar drop by drop while stirring until the broth turned somewhat acidic. Lord Wylis checked it himself by tasting it, declaring that no poison could harm him.
Finally came the extraction stage.
He wrote it all down with great detail and clarity. First, they made a crude solvent by using ale and a pinch of sulfur to produce what Lord Wylis termed ethanol. He'd never heard of it before, but he understood it as an ether-like distillate.
Then they mixed the acidified penicillin broth with the solvent in a sealed jar. Then they let the layers separate. Apparently, the penicillin always moves to the solvent layer. Once they had siphoned off the top solvent layer, they mixed the solvent with a base made of wood ash dissolved in water. It pulled penicillin back in water.
Once again, they shook it, separated the layers, and collected the watery layer.
Last came the purification stage. By passing it through charcoal packed in a tube to absorb impurities. Finally, they evaporated it gently and concentrated it into a syrup. Lord Wylis said it could also be turned into a dry powder by spreading it thin on a clean surface in dry air.
The final result was a brownish liquid extract. The specific instructions stated to store the vials in a cool place.
Thud!
Qyburn fell, tired, eyes sore. It was truly a process that tested his patience. And in the end, they had just a few vials worth of penicillin.
"This is but the first step, Qyburn. There are other kinds yet, and though the method stays the same, a few steps will change. We'll work through them all and grow it steadily in time. Later, I'll show you seed cultures, how to raise the mold in small flasks so the great vats take faster. When the work grows large, I'll give it a building of its own. We begin at fifty liters, then climb higher."
Qyburn wondered why Lord Wylis needed that much. They didn't even have much of an army. But he agreed with the plan nonetheless.
"Now, we test this. Did the ratcatchers bring us any?"
"They did, my lord." Qyburn hurried to help with the final stage that mattered the most. They used two rats, wounded them, and infected them with pus. They applied penicillin to only one and then watched.
They remained in the underground chambers that entire night.
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