Kup had spent what could only be called a wonderful half month. Everything seemed to have returned to the earliest days: no endless trifles and mundane business to disturb him, no gloomy-faced infirmary warden in sight. His only companions were the hearthfire, books, and rare tranquility.
There was nothing much to worry about with the medical work either. After Kraft simply handed over the task of changing the patients' dressings, he moved half the laboratory into a nook at the very edge of the Basin.
It was a building far from both water and habitation, belonging to the estate yet set apart from it. Its main structure was hidden by a mountain hollow, making it difficult to notice from afar without being told.
It had probably once been an abandoned barn. Its high foundation and mixed brick-and-stone construction had kept the structure in good condition, greatly speeding up repairs, though it had only recently been put into use.
The controlled burn had left a wide expanse of black-gray scorched earth around it. No crops had been replanted, but fences had long since been erected, with transplanted hawthorn and wild berries woven between the stakes to fill the gaps.
Late-autumn rain had stripped away the leaves with their singed edges, exposing brown-black branches thick with sharp thorns. Sour, astringent red fruit dripped like beads of blood, withering and rotting.
The thorny courtyard barred all visitors. Of course, no normal person would have wanted to visit in the first place.
He had not come this time for himself, but because the expected accident had finally occurred.
Although every bandage change had been cleaned as thoroughly as possible, infection had arrived right on schedule on the seventh day after the operation.
Its cause could no longer be determined. Perhaps pathogens had been introduced