Page 96 of Inconvenient Honor
Hamidou shrugged. “We’ll see what your government offers in the end,” he said.
The offer must not have matched. Praise God for that.
Scarface looked up from a game five feet away and snarled something. Richard had no idea what.
“Our Tunisian friends do business. They do not threaten our people,” Hamidou continued as if Scarface hadn’t spoken. “If your game includes harm to this village—” He left the threat implied.
“I gave my word.”
“I gave mine. We’ll see whose carries weight. The game isn’t over, my English friend.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Izza batted Lily’s hand from the grinding pestle.
“Grandmother tells you not work today,” the girl said.
Lily pulled the blanket she carried around her shoulders. The wind grew colder as the days grew cloudier. The women wore heavier overgarments now.
The old grandmother followed Lily’s gesture with a concern that reinforced Lily’s growing unease.
Discomfort increased daily; the baby felt lower, and the pressure that caused made her legs ache. It kept her up the night before. Only Richard’s patient back rubbing made it bearable. He no longer attempted intercourse, but he never stopped holding her, caressing her, whispering sweet nonsense in her ear. She hoped he slept better than she did. Surely this baby will make her appearance soon!
Wasila, she of the over-decorated headdress, Lily’s nemesis, barked a complaint at Izza that brought Lily out of her thoughts. The old grandmother spoke sharply to the woman.
“She say you must work, not be lazy,” Izza said. She followed it with a discreet giggle. “She never work herself. Grandmother tell her to leave you alone.”
Grain in the basket ran out. One of the younger women rose to fetch more. Lily rose with her and took one handle of the wide basket. She needed to stretch her legs and was grateful for the excuse. Izza scurried behind. Lily recognized the woman carrying the other side of the basket as a young mother with three small children.
They reached the grain storage and slid off thelid. The younger woman moaned when she looked in. Lily peered over her shoulder. Supply looked low. It sank quickly with so many to feed.
Izza and the other leaned in and scooped out a bucketful, the other woman’s face wrinkled with concern. It occurred to Lily for the first time that some might resent two extra mouths to feed.
“I tell her not to worry, Zambak. Soon we have much coin to buy grain,” Izza said cheerfully. She pulled out another bucketful.
“Yes, my government will send ransom,” Lily agreed. She hoped it was so. She helped dump the grain into their basket.
“I don’t know this ransom, Zambak, but the Tunisians promised much coin,” Izza chirped. Lily’s hands froze in their work.
Izza did not seem to notice. She picked up one handle of the basket. The other young woman took the other and they walked back toward the women’s circle.
Lily leaned against the brick storage bin, one hand around her middle, and swallowed convulsively. She had thought Izza a friend, Izza who cheered at the thought of selling Lily, Richard, and the baby.
Do not show fear. Move about as if all is well. Believe it.
She followed the other two women. The young mother appeared to be complaining about the grain supply when Lily joined them. She gestured at the basket and pointed back to the bin in animated description.
Wasila took up the conversation, pointing at Lily and carrying on in rapid Berber. Izza’s answer seemed to mollify her.
“What did she say?” Lily asked Izza.
“She say we will starve if Hamidou goes soft. I tell her not to worry. Much money will come. It has been offered.” Izza went about the business of grinding grain.
One other woman held up an object and looked at Lily inquiringly.
“Hammer,” Lily told her. Teaching continued. One could go through the motion, Lily found, even when one’s heart died a little.
Lily,proud and defiant, challenged Richard. Lily, wan and listless, crushed him. Hamidou’s messengers had returned from Gibraltar weeks before, empty handed. As near as Lily could tell him, the governor said he would do his best, but he needed time. What little time they had disappeared daily.
