Lloyd sighed, though not entirely surprised. "See? Too weak. The solution isn't dense enough, not strong enough, to support the egg's weight." He fished the egg out carefully with a slotted wooden spoon he'd brought, rinsing it in the pond. "If it were the right strength," he explained, holding up the clean egg, "the egg would float, with just a small portion – about the size of a silver coin – showing above the surface. If it floats too high, or completely on top, it means the lye is too strong, too concentrated."
Jasmin stared, fascinated. "An egg tells you all that?"
"It gives us a good indication," Lloyd confirmed. "Crude, perhaps, compared to the hydrometers I remember from… other studies," he caught himself quickly, "but effective enough for our purposes." He surveyed their setup. "So, our current lye is too weak. We need to concentrate it."
"How do we do that, my lord?" Jasmin asked eagerly, ready for the next step.
"Two primary methods," Lloyd explained, already moving towards the buckets. "First, we can simply pass this collected lye water back through the same ash bed again. Each pass allows the water to dissolve a little more of that hidden potency, gradually increasing the strength." He demonstrated, carefully pouring the weak lye from the collection bucket back into the top bucket filled with ash. "Slowly now, let it seep through again."
"The second method," he continued, pointing towards a clear patch of ground nearby where he'd gathered some dry stones, "is concentration through heat. If we carefully heat the lye solution, some of the water will evaporate, leaving the dissolved 'hidden fire' behind in a smaller volume, making it stronger. But," he cautioned, "this requires careful heat control. Boiling it too vigorously can cause dangerous sputtering, and we risk concentrating it too much, making it overly harsh."
He looked at Jasmin. "For now, let's focus on the first method. Re-filtering. It's slower, safer for our initial attempts."
Together, they began the laborious process. Carefully collecting the lye as it dripped through, then pouring it back over the ash beds, repeating the cycle. It was slow, repetitive work, requiring patience and careful handling of the increasingly potent liquid. Lloyd insisted Jasmin wear thick leather work gloves he'd procured from the stables, constantly reminding her to avoid any splashes on her skin.
Hours passed. The sun climbed higher, reaching its zenith before beginning its slow descent. The air grew warmer. Lloyd and Jasmin worked in companionable silence, broken only by his quiet instructions or her occasional, timid questions about the process. He found himself explaining the basic concepts simply, relating the 'hidden fire' (alkali) to its opposite, the sourness of vinegar (acid), talking about how they balanced each other. He avoided complex chemical terms, relying on analogies she could grasp.
Finally, after multiple passes, the lye solution dripping into the collection buckets looked subtly different – perhaps clearer, though still brownish, carrying a slightly sharper, cleaner scent.
"Alright," Lloyd declared, wiping sweat from his brow. "Let's test it again."
He took the bucket of re-filtered lye, swirled it gently, and once more, carefully lowered the raw chicken egg into the liquid.
This time, the egg didn't sink. It bobbed, hesitated, then settled, floating stably within the lye solution. A small, distinct circle of the eggshell, roughly the size of a standard silver coin, remained visible above the surface of the brownish liquid.
Jasmin gasped softly, leaning closer, her eyes wide with wonder. "It… it floats! Just like you said, my lord!"
A slow smile of deep satisfaction spread across Lloyd's face. It worked. The crude, ancient method, guided by his remembered knowledge, had yielded the desired result. "Perfect," he breathed, relief washing over him. "Just the right strength. Not too weak, not too strong. Ready for the next stage."
He carefully removed the floating egg, admiring the successful result for another moment. They had done it. They had created usable, correctly concentrated lye from simple wood ash and water.
"So now, my lord?" Jasmin asked, her voice filled with anticipation, glancing towards the jars of rendered tallow stored back in the kitchens. "Now we… we mix them?"
"Now," Lloyd confirmed, the excitement building within him again, chasing away the fatigue, "the real transformation begins. Now, Jasmin, we make soap." He looked towards the setting sun, calculating the remaining daylight. Time was precious. The soap empire wouldn't build itself.
-------