The morning sunlight warmed his skin and glinted off the dark brown surface of the lustral bath. Frothy green scum drifted peacefully across the fetid water. He made a face at it and decided to roll up his breeches legs a little farther—not that it would help much when he got in chest-deep. This needed doing, and it wasn’t a task he’d wish on the worst of malefactors. Maybe Lech. He thought about the unpleasant sermon Lech had preached at service. Well, he assumed it was unpleasant. One mention of Glorious Muscoda, Beloved of the Queen, and Krakus had closed his ears. He sighed and walked down the center of the stone steps into the bath. Couldn’t be too careful; pond slime grew along the edges of the steps where feet didn’t usually fall, brought in with the river water. There was a plate down here somewhere that covered the drain. Probably in the middle. He’d never actually seen the thing, but he figured it must be there. He searched with his toes, grimacing at the slimy stone floor under his soles.
