Three paces outside the door of the hall his tune trailed off and he stopped, now seeing what was in store for them.
Set up in the Hall yard were two large wooden tubs on a platform over a bonfire. Steam rose up into the midsummer morning, and the air smelled strongly of peppermint and lavender. It was true that Einarr had wanted a bath for weeks now. For all that these were washing tubs, however, this looked more like a scalding pot.
The plump Matron looked up from her nalbinding and hailed him with a smile. “Good morning!”
“I think that my companions and I should make a poor meal, honored Amma.”
To her credit, and Einarr’s relief, she laughed. “You’ll not be cooked unless you stay in too long. ‘Tis a bath, but for the herbs to work it must be hot.”
“As much as we…
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