Saturday, October 19, Tigilit

No sign, sadly, of the magnificent washerwoman. In fact, save for the many guards posted on the walls, the household seems, at least from my imperfect vantage point, unusually still, even vacant. Lhassen, the sheik of Tigilit, has seemingly organized a counter-strike against the baroud and the men have departed to battle in the desert. In that case, with the house on a war footing, no doubt many of its members have been moved to more secure positions deeper in the village or dispatched, in supporting roles, to the vast, ever-shifting frontline.

Or perhaps it’s some sort of holiday, and everybody is off visiting family and friends.

I have not see El Mahboul since our return to Tigilit, and after saving my life — or at least helping me to save my own — Larbi has not been around for a couple of days. Nevertheless, he has left me with a generous supply of bread, cooked meats with lentils, and water, and though I am not very hungry or thirsty, my health and strength have been returning by degrees. My guts no longer feel like a nest of squirming, inter-knotted snakes, and my temperature has almost returned to normal.

…what I saw drew me up short: it was not completely closed, and clearly was not bolted and locked from the outside. I stared at it for a few moments and then stepped to the lattice, bent over, and watched the guards on the ramparts.

My face and head, I see in my little pocket mirror, continues to show the lumps, bruises, gouges, abrasions, and dents I suffered when I fell, and if my nose has begun to feel a little better — over the last couple of days I have tried, when I could tolerate the pain and the peculiar creaking noises, to reshape and shift it back into something like the right position — my neck and throat continue to ache unbearably, and my head still seems as if it’s on crooked. I would like to lift it off completely, and then reset it. I keep trying to turn it this way and that to see if it will snap back into place by itself, but without much success. When I square up my shoulders and let my head and neck find their most natural and comfortable positions, I find that I am still looking off to the right and have difficulty turning my head in the other direction. If I keep working at it, perhaps in a few days more it will loosen up and straighten.

(Jean: you could be standing slightly behind me and to my left and I would never know you were there unless you spoke!)

After sipping water and gazing out at the still courtyard, I decided to stand and walk about my cell in order to continue the process of rebuilding my strength. When I had completed half a loop, I passed by the door and what I saw drew me up short: it was not completely closed, and clearly was not bolted and locked from the outside. I stared at it for a few moments and then stepped to the lattice, bent over, and watched the guards on the ramparts. They appeared, from my inverted perspective, to be almost upside down. With their backs to the courtyard, they gazed fixedly out over the village or desert and they did not march back and forth or call out in jest to one another. Clearly, they had their orders and were following them with the strictest discipline. The stakes were high, and with Lhassen away, the protection of the town and the sheik’s compound fell to these few blue-cloaked and black-haik’d soldiers.

In a moment, I had made up my mind.

I stuffed my journal, gear, and the food and water skin into my traveling bag and donned my robes.

As the soldiers did not turn periodically to look over the courtyard — the house must indeed be empty or all but empty; there was no one to wave to or watch — but maintained their fierce out-looking vigil, I thought I might be able to make my escape. With my heart thumping like an engine about to break away from its mounts, I eased the door open. The hinges did not creak. When the gap was wide enough for me to fit through, I poked my head out. The way was clear; there were no guards patrolling the yard. In a moment, I had descended the stairs and crossed the few meters of ground to the wall. I put my back against the warm stone.