Chapter 116: Maple Syrup and Medical Research

Helen Pyke is a native of the Iron Islands; as an ironborn, she lacks knowledge of the forest and does not know that the sap of sugar maple trees can be boiled down into Maple Syrup.

In truth, this cannot be blamed on Helen Pyke; even the learned Maesters of the Citadel, the Forest Clan who live in the Wolfswood year-round, and the hunters, lumberjacks, and beekeepers who hunt in the Wolfswood all year, have not realized the value of Maple Syrup.

Eddard, however, is well aware of the value of Maple Syrup; even on the Blue Star of the 21st century, it is a luxury item on the dining table. At the table in the Great Hall, Eddard tastes the Maple Syrup; the flavor on the tip of his tongue is sweet, thick, and uniquely savory.

Beside him, Helen Pyke watches with a giggle as Eddard spreads Maple Syrup on his beef jerky and chews it slowly.

"Lord Eddard, eat slowly! I can't stand you eating tree sap." Helen Pyke turns and leaves the Great Hall.

Nearby, Maester Norman, with his head full of silver hair and the nickname "Old White-Head," excels in medicine. It was Eddard who had Maester Norman boil the sap of sugar maple trees into Maple Syrup, yet Maester Norman is also quite unfamiliar with Maple Syrup.

"Lord Eddard, is syrup made from tree sap really edible? When I was a child growing up in Gulltown, I often heard people say that only the savages of the Mountain Clans, the Moon Brothers, the Black Ears, and the Stone Crows would drink tree sap."

"The beef jerky is even more delicious after being coated in Maple Syrup." Eddard picks up a napkin and wipes his mouth. "Maester Norman, Maple Syrup is a delicacy that has yet to be promoted."

Maester Norman frowns. "A delicacy... but this is just the sap of a maple tree!"

"It is a sugar maple tree." Eddard corrects him. "This is a gift bestowed upon the North by the gods. I believe that apart from our North, there are very few sugar maple trees elsewhere."

Sugar maple trees only exist in high-latitude regions, only in cold places; this is the North's advantage, which means that sugar maple trees are very likely to become a specialty of the North.

There are quite a few sugar maple trees in the Wolfswood, but not every sugar maple tree's sap can be collected and used. First, the age of the sugar maple tree must exceed forty years; a sugar maple tree over forty years old yields at most 1 liter per year.

Eddard believes that once Maple Syrup reaches the tables of royalty, nobles, and wealthy merchants, it will inevitably become "liquid gold," a luxury item on the dining table, and bring rolling wealth to Winterfell.

Those wealthy people living in The Reach, King's Landing, the Riverlands, Pentos, Braavos, Lys, and Volantis cannot go a meal without larks, peacocks, or swans; in order to satisfy their mouths and stomachs, those nobles, merchants, and bishops would not mind spending money at all.

Eddard calls for the Deputy Captain of the Winterfell Guard, Haris Moran; he is a polite man who always loves to proclaim things that everyone already knows.

"Haris, I want you to find the Master of Kennels Farlan, take twenty hunters and foresters, go into the Wolfswood, and mark every sugar maple tree. Notify the leader of the Forest Clan that the Forest Clan must protect every sugar maple tree; no one is allowed to cut down a sugar maple tree, and no one is allowed to collect sap privately."

Haris Moran does not quite understand Eddard's decision, but he accepts the order and turns to leave.

Maester Norman, standing by, is very puzzled. "Lord Eddard, you value the sugar maple tree so much; could it be that Maple Syrup has medicinal value?"

"Maple Syrup can supplement the human body's nutrition and satisfy the desire of nobles and wealthy merchants for delicacies." Eddard stands up. "As for medicinal value, that remains to be discovered by us. Maester Norman, I am about to discuss the development of medicine with you; let us move to the study."

Maester Norman takes small steps, following Eddard to the study. Eddard sits in a sable-skin chair and gestures for Maester Norman to sit opposite him.

Eddard flips through a medical book of Westeros. "Maester Norman, may I ask how many types of Poison exist in this world?"

"Many." Maester Norman is somewhat surprised by this question, but he still counts on his fingers as he answers. "Tears of Lys, The Strangler, wolfsbane, Gufu zhi Xue, nightshade... these poisons can take a person's life in an instant."

Eddard closes the medical book. "May I ask how many broad-spectrum drugs we have?"

"Er..." Maester Norman touches his Chain uneasily. "Broad-spectrum drugs? That is indeed very rare. Lord Eddard, diagnosing illnesses and prescribing medicine is the duty of a Maester. Of course, because there are too few Maesters, in many places, people have to turn to Septas, Forest Witches, and the like for medical care."

Eddard leans back against the soft chair. "Actually, many diseases have the same symptoms. Maester Norman, I think we can develop some pills, for example, ones to treat headaches, ones to treat colds and fevers, and ones to treat wound infections."

Maester Norman's eyes light up. He says excitedly, "Lord Eddard, this is exactly my dream. Saving lives and healing the wounded, alleviating the suffering of patients—is that not the very meaning of medicine? But at the Citadel, medicine has become the wealth of the Citadel; the Conclave never wants to share medical research results with other organizations."

The Maesters trained by the Citadel are able to gain a foothold in castles throughout Westeros and become advisors at the dining tables and desks of nobles, largely because the Maesters have a monopoly on medicine. When nobles are sick and weak, they need the magical hands of a Maester to alleviate their pain or even save their lives.

It is precisely because of the strength of the Citadel that, in the tens of thousands of years of history in Westeros, not a single doctor who has left a mark in history has been left behind; the medical research results of the Seven Kingdoms all come from the Citadel.

The profession of doctor is rarely encountered in the Seven Kingdoms; most of the time, the people referred to as doctors are Maesters serving in a dual capacity. Eddard is determined to change this.

Maester Norman rubs his hands, eager to try. "Lord Eddard, I apply to have a small courtyard specifically for medical experiments. Since coming to Winterfell, I have been studying and researching with other Maesters in the Xueshita. Being together with everyone is fine, but I need a quiet environment."

"I will give you a small courtyard next to the Xueshita to use." Eddard pulls a piece of paper from his sleeve pocket and hands it to Maester Norman.

Maester Norman looks at the words on it, his eyes widening. "Lord Eddard, what is this?"

"Many people lose their lives because they catch a cold." Eddard tells Norman. "If we can develop a cold remedy, we will certainly be able to save many people's lives." And then Winterfell can earn a great deal of money.

Maester Norman sees the names of medicinal herbs written on it, such as divaricate saposhnikovia, bungei, perilla leaf, ephedra, cassia twig, loquat leaf, and bitter apricot kernel. He says in confusion, "Lord Eddard, I do not recognize many of these herbs! I need time to collect the medicine."

"I have already prepared them!" Eddard takes a medicine box from under the table, divided into several small compartments, each labeled with the name of the medicine.

Maester Norman is dumbfounded, muttering, "Duke Eddard, you truly are a remarkable man."

Thanks to book friends "Why Change This Name" and "20180222133722856" for the monthly tickets; thank you for your support!

(End of chapter)