When she’d meticulously applied the medicinal concoction to the many other scrapes and bruises, she instructed Honor to hold out her hands and then carefully went over each finger and rubbed the dye into the lines and cracks in her skin. Then she did the same to Honor’s feet, but then she produced a pair of shoes, the kind the natives wore, soft and comfortable, but the woman assured her they were sturdy and would withstand the amount of walking Honor had to do.
“The shoes you wore are a giveaway,” the woman patiently explained. “Not shoes a woman here would wear. Fortunately no one has seen them or they would have been noticed. But with you now wearing a different garment and shoes of a native, and the fact that you’re departing well before the sun sets, you should have no difficulty in getting way beyond the village. There are no reports of anyone departing the market in any direction being stopped and searched or questioned. By all accounts, the snakes are just lying in the grass and waiting for you to magically appear in front of them. One would think they would have learned by now not to underestimate you, but their arrogance is too much for that. They think they have the advantage now because they know your habits and your patterns, and so they’ve set a trap and are waiting for you to fall neatly into it.”
“I have you—both of you,” she added to include the husband, “to thank for my not falling into their trap because that is precisely what I would have done had you not warned—and aided—me.”
“Come, come now,” the woman said, producing the garments for Honor to wear out of the village. “They wait at one of the booths, pretending interest until you arrive. You must hurry, though. We don’t want to do anything that will arouse suspicion.”
Honor put it into high gear and within minutes she was dressed appropriately, the strap of her bag secured cross body and a new hijab and robe folded carefully over her arm. She walked briskly to the door, testing the strength of her knee now that she was to walk normally. It protested the quicker movements and more weight being borne on the leg, but it was much more bearable than before, probably due to the woman’s doctoring. But most importantly, she could maintain a normal pace without giving away her injury. It pained her, yes. But it had subsided to a dull ache and sheer determination would make it impossible for her to falter. At the door, she paused and turned back, needing to at least try to put into words her overwhelming gratitude.
“Thank you,” she said. “You risked much for a stranger. I’ll never be able to repay my debt to you.”
“May Allah be with you on your journey,” the husband said in a solemn voice. “We will pray daily for you.”
“And I you,” Honor vowed in return. “Allah be with your family always. I will never forget you. You will forever remain in my prayers.”
“Good journey,” the woman said as Honor opened the door and stepped into the sunlight.
The woman had directed her to which group to blend in with and she walked toward them, carrying her market purchases, but before she reached them, her way was suddenly blocked by a large, looming man. Her pulse leapt and her fight-or-flight reflexes screamed at her to be set free. It took every ounce of discipline she possessed to lower her head in subservience and murmur an apology in the local dialect.
“Very impressive, Honor. Doing the unexpected. Now I understand why you’ve been able to evade capture for so long. And your accent is flawless. I wonder. How many of the languages in this region do you speak?”