I | War
Shekalane knew. She knew somehow what the smell was even before they rounded the bend and began floating past the village of Flax on their way to Parvus’ homestead. It was an acrid smell, an obscene smell, a smell at once coppery and metallic, but also earthy, oily, a smell that was unnatural and acidic and yet cloying, musky, sweet.
It was the smell of human flesh burning. She knew it even before the great bonfire of corpses came into view, for the smoke coated her mouth and nose, and she knew, also, that it would never leave her, not if she scoured herself a thousand times with soap and myrrh. Dravidian knew it, too, based upon his expression; at least so much of it as she could see, for they had disguised themselves in rich clothing and wide-brimmed hats from Jamais’ store (an
