Weak waters

A weak water carries nothing. Nothing in this chapter adds to Intoxication or to a Craving, and nothing in it leaves anything to recover from.

It is cataloged for two reasons. A house that sells drink sells these beside it, so both lists are wanted to stock one. And several of the mixtures in the fourth chapter are built on a sparkle.

There are two kinds, divided by temperature. A sparkle is lively and drunk cold. An infusion is steeped or simmered and drunk hot. Both are water with something in it, which is the only form in which she will have water drunk at all.

Sparkles

Her word for a drink that is lively in the glass. Some springs come up sparkling on their own and are bottled at the source; the rest are made, by setting a sweetened infusion to work briefly and stopping it before it becomes a drink, or by charging water from a still-house’s own apparatus.

Three of them do something worth writing down. The rest are pleasant and nothing else.

“

A sparkle is water with something in it and bubbles besides, and I will not be drawn further than that. It is not medicine. It is the only thing I sell to a man’s children and to the man himself on the same morning, and it has kept more people out of the ale before noon than any argument I have made.

Spring sparkle

Bottled where it comes out of the ground, faintly salty, and the cheapest thing in this chapter.

A tankard replaces what a day’s sweating takes. A creature that drinks one after a forced march, or after a shift at a forge, counts as having eaten and drunk properly that day for the purpose of going without food or water.

Ginger sparkle

Ginger and sugar set to work briefly and stopped, sharp enough to be felt at the back of the throat.

For 1 hour after a tankard, a creature has Advantage on saving throws against the Poisoned condition caused by the motion of a ship or a coach, or by food that has turned.

Bitter sparkle

Gentian and peel, barely sweetened, drunk after a meal rather than with one.

A cup settles a stomach after a heavy meal, in the same small way aniseed water does.

Infusions and broths

Steeped, simmered or boiled, and drunk hot for the most part. Water itself is not in the table and will not be; her reason is below, and it is the only opinion in this book she asks anybody to take on faith.

These are the mild end of what the sixth chapter catalogs at strength. A practitioner who understands why a cup of coffee works understands why emberfoot works, and how much further it goes.

Every one of them does something, so every one has its own entry below.

“

Water alone rusts the bones. I have said so to physicians, to my own apprentices, and to a man from a college who came all the way out here to tell me otherwise, and I say it still. Put something in it — a leaf, a grain, a spoonful of anything on this page — and it is a drink. On its own it is a solvent, and one is made largely of what it dissolves.

Broth

Bones and trimmings simmered a day and skimmed. Cloudy gold, with fat at the top that a careful cook takes off and a hungry one does not. It smells of meat and of the kitchen. It tastes of salt and of very little else, and it is the first thing given to anybody who has been ill.

A bowl of broth counts as a day’s rations for the purpose of going without food.

Ginger tea

Ginger root, bruised and steeped. Pale yellow, cloudy. It smells hot and green. It tastes sharp and warming at the back of the throat.

For 1 hour after drinking it, a creature has Advantage on saving throws against the Poisoned condition caused by the motion of a ship or a coach, or by food that has turned.

Chamomile

The dried flower, steeped. Pale gold. It smells of apples and of hay. It tastes faintly bitter and faintly sweet, and it is given to children and to people who cannot settle.

A creature that drinks a cup before resting is not woken by ordinary noise, and wakes on its own at the hour it intended.

Switchel

Water, vinegar, ginger and molasses, drunk cold in quantity by people bringing in a harvest. Cloudy brown. It smells sour and gingery. It tastes tart and salty-sweet and is far better than it sounds when one has been in a field since dawn.

For 1 hour after drinking a tankard, a creature has Advantage on Constitution saving throws made against extreme heat or against Exhaustion from a forced march.

Willow tea

Willow bark, stripped in spring and steeped bitter. Brown, astringent. It smells of wet bark. It tastes bitter enough that most people take it with honey.

It dulls an ache for an hour or two. It removes no condition, restores no Hit Points, and does nothing whatever about the cause, and she is emphatic that people mistake the second for the first.

Tea

Dried leaves from a great distance away, steeped brief and drunk hot. Amber. It smells grassy and faintly smoky. It tastes bitter and clean, and it costs what it costs because of where it came from.

For 1 hour after drinking a cup, a creature has Advantage on saving throws made to stay awake.

Coffee

A roasted bean, ground and boiled, drunk black and bitter by people who have work to finish. Near black, with a pale crown when fresh. It smells burnt and rich. It tastes bitter, and then bitter, and people persist anyway.

For 2 hours after drinking a cup, a creature has Advantage on saving throws made to stay awake.

“

Coffee is the gentlest thing in my book that does anything at all, and it is where I send people who ask me for emberfoot and do not need it. The one is a cup and two hours. The other is four hours and a debt, and the debt is in the sixth chapter under its own name.

Chocolate

The ground bean beaten into hot milk or water with sugar and a little chili, which is how it is drunk where it comes from and how it should be drunk everywhere. Dark brown, thick, frothed. It smells rich and faintly bitter. It tastes of all three of its parts at once, and it is a meal as much as a drink.

For 2 hours after drinking a cup, a creature has Advantage on saving throws made to stay awake. A cup also counts as half a day’s rations.

Where it is found

Nothing in this chapter is sold below a poor house. A wretched or squalid place sells cheap beer and nothing besides, because a sparkle or a pot of broth wants a kitchen, a fire and somebody to mind it, and those are the things such a place does not have.

From a poor house upward everything here is had at every level, and the prices above do not change with the custom. No other chapter in the book can say that.

Three things are exceptions:

• Tea, coffee and chocolate are carried a long way and priced for it. A poor house has none of them, a modest house has tea, and the other two need money.
• Cream sparkle needs a dairy and a cold cellar, so it starts at a comfortable house.
• Spring sparkle is cheap where the spring is and dear anywhere else, because what is being paid for is the carriage.