As the slaves piled on
the stones, the progressively increasing weight of the ram steadily
crushed out the fresh, strong-smelling olive oil which was drained
through a bung hole at the casque's base.
This was a most pleasant time for Si'Wren, who, not having had any
tatoos, not so much as one, applied anywhere on her body like Nelatha,
and neither desiring any, yet greatly admired and envied Nelatha for
her expert ability and wealth of worldly experience. Si'Wren always
looked on with beaming countenance as the piles of freshly sorted and
washed olives were slowly crushed down under the weight of so many
heavy stones. She would watch the pooling olive oil in the collection
bucket, diligent to pluck forth the bugs from the fresh pressing. Then
the oil would be covered to settle out any remaining bits of dust,
twigs, and dead insects.
Finally, the oil would be sieved through several layers of coarsely
woven cheese cloth, to be stored in tall slender vases with narrow
bottom ends into which the finest pollen grains and motes would
eventually settle out during storage. She knew of no other method to
obtain the olive oil, but this way worked quite well, and Si'Wren was
faithful to obey all, and question nothing that she learned.
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