To her advantage, the entire country had many spoken languages, despite its small size, and many of its people spoke multiple dialects, so as long as she got close to the correct accent and didn’t betray her American roots, if the woman detected any subtle differences she would just attribute it to originating from a separate region.
With deference and respect, she told the woman what she required and then pulled out the intricately fashioned decorative piece of jewelry and asked if this would suffice as payment for the food and clothing she asked for.
The woman took the piece from Honor and inspected it closely, turning it over and over to catch all angles in the light. Then she looked back at Honor, honesty reflected in her gaze.
“It is too much for what you ask. Please, choose something else to your liking. This is a most valuable piece.”
Honor’s gaze flickered to the other offerings the woman had, weighing what she could logically carry with her. The load of an extra outfit would be heavy enough. The food would be inconsequential. But then she remembered she needed a bowl to boil the water from the river and a source of flame to start a fire in case the fluid ran out in the lighter she’d picked up from the clinic. Thank God for the addiction of one of the workers to cigarettes and the fact that he routinely sneaked them during slow periods.
“A bowl,” Honor added. “And a flint for making fire. Do you have those things?”
The woman’s shrewd gaze swept over Honor, her eyes probing deep as if uncovering every secret hidden within. Her scrutiny made Honor feel uncomfortable and vulnerable, neither a pleasant emotion to endure.
“You look as though you have pain,” the woman said matter-of-factly. “With age comes pains and aches we have no control over. Come with me to my home and I’ll collect the items you requested, and I will also give you a medicinal paste to apply over the muscles or joints that pain you the most. It will give you relief yet won’t impair you in any way. My husband will watch over my display while we are gone.”
Paranoia filled Honor. It was as if these people knew exactly who she was and for whatever reason sought to aid her. Okay, so two people didn’t constitute everyone, but it was not a coincidence that the only two people she’d come into direct contact with seemed to know her plight—and had offered safe passage.
Though she appreciated the gesture and it brought tears to her eyes to know there was so much good in a world that seemed to be ruled by evil, the very last thing she wanted was for these people to suffer because they not only had not turned her in, but had offered her help and were in effect hiding her.
But to reject the woman’s kindness would be an insult of the highest order, so Honor nodded and softly thanked her. The other woman smiled and then motioned to a man who was several yards away speaking to another villager.
They spoke in low tones and at some point her husband looked up at Honor, his eyebrows going up in surprise, and oddly, admiration—respect—flickered through his eyes before it was quickly swept away.
Did everyone know who she was? Her panic level was beginning to overwhelm her. She could barely breathe. Only the knowledge that they were out there. Close. Watching and waiting. Hunting. And that innocents could very well be killed were Honor to be discovered, because nothing mattered to these people except their objective. Only knowing that she could be responsible for senseless bloodshed caused her mounting hysteria to be pushed back, and she walked calmly with the woman to one of the small dwellings a short distance from where her booth had been set up.
Once inside, Honor allowed herself to relax just a little. She didn’t feel as exposed in here, even though she knew she wasn’t safe and that the walls of the small abode only gave the illusion of protection. It would take no strength at all to burst through the closed door in front, so if someone wanted in here, there was nothing to stop them.