Whatever Hanson might have expected after the encounter in the bathing room, it certainly was not anything that came next. When the three of them left the bath, Holzy snapped his fingers in the air to bring a heap of garments tumbling at his feet. Hanson found a tunic-type shirt that fit his wide shoulders and dragged it on. The fabric was coarse and scratchy, but it was no worse than many things he’d worn. After digging around, Graber found a similar shirt and donned it. They looked some more, but no trews emerged from the pile. They each did find a pair of simple brogans and stepped into them, since neither was fond of going barefoot. Holzy stood by and watched, not speaking, until they were both dressed.
“No pants?” Hanson asked the question, a smidgeon of belligerence coloring his ton
