“So, how is she doing?” I asked. Sam, Wreck, Bran, Balin and myself were all clustered outside of Doctor Opal’s Cabin.
“It’s a cold.” Said Bran. “She started coughin this mornin and she was out of it by lunch ti.”
“I’m goin in to check on her.” said Wreck. She opened the door and stepped inside. The rest of us moved to go in as well but Wreck spun around and firmly shut the door in our faces. “Alone!” she hissed as the door closed. “Opal doesn’t need a bunch of gawkers!”
The rest of us stood around bereft for a mont.
“How bad is it?” Sam broke the silence.
“A slight fever, but nothin really bad.” Bran replied.
Phew! I had been worried about her since Bran looked so down. I guess in a world with magical healing and God given Doctors, illness isn’t as scary. Of course, being sick sucked no matter what. There was sothing I was curious about though. I posed the question to Sam, since he seed to be most likely to know.
“Couldn’t she just get the Healer to fix her? What was his na, Bastion?”
“Aye, she could.” Sam nodded. “It would be expensive though. Not worth it for a common cold. Healers are always busy. She’ll be better before he even has ti to see her.”
That made sense. Even in our world you wouldn’t go to the doctor for the common cold. Well, unless it got really bad, or your 2-year-old was up all night with hacking coughs. I felt a little lancholy at that. I haven’t really thought of Caroline and Samantha recently. I guess that’s why I got the Blessing for my “spirit adapting fully” or whatever. I do still miss my family, but I just don’t have ti to dwell on it. I have a new family, new goals, and I had no real regrets from my last life.
“So, what’ll she do? Is there anyone watchin over her?” Sam asked. “No need to leave her alone, eh?”
“She said that she’d be fine. I tried goin in, but I know nothin about helpin sick folk.” Bran said, a note of depression in his voice. “She said ‘I’m the Doctor here Bran, I’ll be fine.’ I just wish there was sothin’ I could do.”
While I was distracted with thoughts of my old family, the rest of the group finished up their discussion and started to head back to the ss hall. It seems that Wreck was going to stay behind with Opal. Honestly, it was kind of sad that there wasn’t anything we could do for Opal. She always worked so hard taking care of us. Then sothing tugged at my mory; my wife sick in bed and her smile when I made her favourite dicine.
“Ya comin, Pete?” Balin asked, as he tapped on the shoulder.
“Oh, sorry Balin. I was just thinking.”
“Uh oh.”
“Hey! It’s not that bad! My ideas are all great!”
“My moustache would disagree?” Balin scowled, and he twirled the scorched strands of his moustache as he glowered at .
“Hey, no matter what, all the ti we spent on the saltpeter trough was kind of great.”
“What? How.”
“Because it was grating.” Sam laughed and Balin grinned, but Bran just groaned.
“I pray daily that the Gods strike you down.” He grumped.
“Well excuse , Bran! Here I was thinking about sharing an old recipe that I thought might help Opal.” I scoffed. “I guess you won’t be wanting it then!”
Bran suddenly grew a bit more contrite. “Did I say strike you down? I ant that I pray daily for your good health and happiness! Do you really have a new recipe for Pete? Sothin that’ll help Opal feel better?”
“Yeah, it’s sothing I made for my wi- for a friend.” I was thinking of an old recipe that I used to make for Caroline. I’d made it for the first ti while we were still engaged, and ever since then it was sothing she asked for whenever she was sick. It was an old British drink called a Caudle. “Well, let’s go to the kitchen.”
“What are we making?”
“I’m going to ruin so beer!”
“Not again!” Balin sobbed.
“What do you an again?” Sam asked.
“You’ll see! Follow !” I pointed in the direction of the ss hall and headed towards it, a skip in my step.
---
“I have nightmares of the last ti this happened….” Balin muttered.
The four of us were wearing aprons and standing in the kitchen, with a pot on the stove and a keg of beer on the counter beside us.
“Oh hush, it went perfectly!” I said as I poured so beer into the pot.
“Tim lost his beard, and half the camp got injured!” Balin protested.
“Tim’s fine.” I replied.
“Nothin about that dwarf is fine…” Sam muttered.
I ignored the three of them, I had Caudle to cook! There were a couple variations on the drink, and I figured I would start with the one that was the heartiest.
“Alright Bran, I’m going to get started.”
“Aye Pete, what do ya need first?” Bran had a little recipe book and began to take so notes as I gave instruction.
“First I’ll need so eggs and sugar.”
“Sugar again…” Balin muttered.
“Help or get outta the way Balin.” Bran pushed Balin aside and got the eggs out of the cooler. He pointed Balin towards the sugar.
I poured a few cups of beer into the pot and set it to boiling. Then I cracked a few eggs into a bowl and started whisking. “I’ll need so breadcrumbs too.”
“Got it!” Sam grabbed a nearby loaf and began crumbling it into a bowl. “So, what are we makin?”
“It’s a drink called Caudle.” Caudle is an interesting drink that sounds vile when it’s first described but tastes quite nice. It has roots in England in the early 1300s where it was originally given to mothers suffering from post-partum pain. Over the centuries, it was made for anyone who got sick. It’s most likely where the word “coddled” ca from, as you would bring Caudle to those who were suffering. I was going to make a slight variation on it that included a bit of bread for added texture and nutrients.
“Do we need fish? Fish oil is good fer the sick.” Bran scratched his head.
“What?” I paused in my mixing.
“Ya said it’s got Cod in it.” Sam pointed out.
“I heard that too.” Balin nodded.
“No, it’s just called Caudle. It doesn’t have fish in it.”
“Dunno why you’d call it that if it doesn’t have fish in it.” Bran said as he scribbled more notes.
“Aye, that’s weird.” Balin and Sam nodded in agreent.
I grumped, “Am I making this or not?”
“Not is better.” Balin quipped.
“Anything more Pete?” Bran and I ignored him as we continued working.
“Yeah, I need so cream, salt, and saffron if you have so.”
“What’s saffron?”
“It’s a spice.” Co to think of it, Saffron is sotis called the most expensive spice. I seriously doubt they would have any in a prison camp. “Do you have nutg? That will work too.”
“Aye, got it.” Bran opened up the cupboard and pulled out so containers while Sam grabbed the cream. The three of us watched the pot as it ca to a simr and I poured the eggs and cream into the beer.
“The first stop in Caudle is to add so cream and eggs to warm beer or wine.”
“Oh, if it uses wine is this an elvish recipe then?” Bran asked.
“Makes sense.” Balin said. “Elves are weird.”
I ignored them, whisking until the beer mixture turned foamy.
“Next you add so breadcrumbs or oatal, and sugar. Sothing starchy and sothing sweet.” I mixed in the breadcrumbs and the sugar and whisked a while longer. “Finally, a sprinkle of salt and so spices!” I added a pinch of nutg and salt and give the mixture one final whisk. It was roughly the colour of caral and had a milky, foamy texture.
“That doesn’t look half bad. I’m a fan of a milk and beer, and that’s milk WITH beer!” Sam actually smacked his lips.
“I’ll admit it does look tasty.” Balin said.
“It slls quite sweet. I think Opal will love it. Makes people feel better you say?”
“Absolutely. I made enough for everyone to try, so give so tankards.” I poured out 5 mugs and everyone stared into the milky foam of their mugs with trepidation.
“It slls like nutg.” said Balin, after taking a sniff. Sam and Bran did the sa.
“Alright, bottoms up! Cheers, eh!” Sam held up his tankard and we all clinked mugs. There was a brief mont of silence broken only by the faint sound of chugging. Then four dwarves took a satisfied gasp at the sa ti.
“It’s delicious!” Said Bran.
“I could get used ta this!”
“Opal will love it!”
“It has a light and fluffy texture that makes it easy to drink, but enough body that it feels like eating a al.” Bran rubbed his beard, now with a slight patina of milk foam. “The sugar makes it sweet and easy to drink while the bitterness of the beer keeps it from bein too much like a dessert.”
“Aye, it feels nice and warm in the stomach, and the alcohol helps settle ya! It’s perfect for relaxin!”
“I need to get sick more often!”
“Alright! I’m glad you all like it.” I cald them down and grabbed the remaining tankard as Sam’s hand reached for it. “The rest of it is for Doc Opal. Bran, do you want to take it to her?”
“Aye Pete, thanks!” Bran grabbed the tankard and made his way out of the kitchen.
Hopefully Opal would be better soon and things would go back to normal.
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