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After pouring the hops in the tun, Otik cleaned the stream-
rounded heating stones and scrubbed the iron tongs he used on
them. The whole Inn grew warm as he built up the fire and opened
a wind-vent to blow the coals. The stones he laid on a flat clean
slab of the hearth; as each stone heated he lowered it with the
tongs into the wort. Soon he was sweating freely from the heat. He
set the tongs down to wipe his forehead.
Without being asked, Tika picked them up, re moved several
stones from the tun and swung heated ones in, lowering them
gently to avoid splashing. Otik puffed and watched, proud of her.
When he was younger, he would have needed no rest. For that
matter, when Tika was younger, he would not have let her spell
him at the heating.
As the tun began steaming, Otik thought again to himself,
"She's old enough for her own place." He shook his head, cast the
problem from his mind, and tried to think only of the new ale.
After the heating, Tika and Otik poured off the ale into smaller
casks. Otik took care to fill each cask only four-fifths full, because
the alewort bubbled as it worked, and a full cask could explode.
Once, when Otik was young, he had overfilled one; it had taken
weeks to get the smell out of the Inn.
Each cask they finished they rolled carefully against the tree
and set upright where it would be in sunlight but away from
outside walls. For the first seven days, the casks would be warm
and working, and the yeast would be settling out of it
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