They stepped into the belly of the largest tent, a cavernous wideness of white cloth that groaned under the weight of the morning wind. Inside, the world was filtered through the pale light that made way through the walls.
Long, rhythmic rows of beds stretched into the dimness,accompanied by the labored breathing and wet, hacking coughs. It was the realm between the sunlit world of the living and the silent dark of the dead.
Narrow paths, barely wide enough for a man to piss through, snaked between the beds, perfect for nurses and medics to go from one shattered body to the next.
The beds were raised from the damp earth on simple wooden frames, their mattresses stuffed with hay. Basil noticed a pile of sodden, red-stained straw being carried out the back;he didn't know why, but he could theorize it was for that thing, which Agalosios spoke in those few times he tutored him about the human's body.
