Removing our blood-stained hauberks and dented cuisses, we were ready for the supposed healing afforded by the mud of the Dead Sea. Lathering ourselves, we braved the chilly water.
If the fabled mud didn’t exactly provide miraculous results, the views at least were a solace to our dust-sickened eyes.
After taking the waters, we rinsed and returned to the fresh-water pools of our barracks.
The bone-sawyers and leeches would be busy, I knew, with all the injuries from our small contingent. It must be such a burden, I sympathized, for them to work in this forsaken and ugly station.
After properly sunning ourselves, we reluctantly returned to the bus, unwilling to face the biggest battle of all: classes the following morning. Bright and early.
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