The smell of death hung heavy and pungent in the air. Sickness touched the skin and covered it in a dewy glow that in any other situation could have been attractive.
Castellan held a scented handkerchief over her nose as she walked through the village to the church.
There were many people already on the steps by the time she got there but they did not jostle for front of queue. None of them even stood within arm's reach of each other. All their eyes focused on the closed doors, Castellan's included.