In the Linar Valley they had seen no one outside the villages, but here there were a few travelers, most of them wearing white robes and white turbans. The Nuristanis looked with curiosity at the two pale, exhausted Westerners, but greeted Mohammed with wary respect, no doubt because of the Kalashnikov slung over his shoulder.
As they trudged uphill beside the Nuristan River, they were overtaken by a black-bearded, bright-eyed young man carrying ten fresh fish speared on a pole. He spoke to Mohammed in a mixture of languages—Jane recognized some Dan and the occasional Pashto word—and they understood one another well enough for Mohammed to buy three of the fish.
Ellis counted out the money, and said to Jane: "Five hundred afghanis per fish—how much is that?''
"Five hundred afghanis is fifty French francs—five pounds."
"Ten bucks," said Ellis. "Expensive fish."
Jane wished he would stop jabbering: it was as much as she could do to put one foot in front of the other, and he was talking about the price of fish.
The young man, whose name was Halam, said he had caught the fish in Lake Mundol, farther down the valley, although he had probably bought them, for he did not look like a fisherman. He slowed his pace to walk with them, talking volubly, apparently not much concerned about whether they understood him or not.
Like the Five Lions Valley, the Nuristan was a rocky canyon which broadened, every few miles, into small cultivated plains with terraced fields. The most noticeable difference was the forest of holly oak which covered the mountainsides like the wool on a sheep's back, and which Jane thought of as her hiding place should all else fail.
They were making better time now. There were no infuriating diversions up the mountain, for which Jane was deeply thankful. In one place the road was blocked by a landfall, but this time Ellis and Jane were able to climb over it, and Mohammed and the horse forded the river and came back across a few yards upstream. A little later, when an abutment jutted into the stream, the road continued around the cliff face on a shaky wooden trestle which the horse refused to tread on, and once again Mohammed solved the problem by crossing in the water.
By this time Jane was near to collapse. When Mohammed came back across the river, she said: "I need to stop and rest."
Mohammed said: "We are almost at Gadwal."
"How far is it?"
Mohammed conferred with Halam in Dari and French, then said: "One half hour."
It seemed like forever to Jane. Of course I can walk for another half hour, she told herself, and tried to think of something other than the ache in her back and the need to lie down.
But then, when they turned the next bend, they saw the village.
It was a startling sight as well as a welcome one: the wooden houses scrambled up the steep mountainside like children clambering on one another's backs, giving the impression that if one house at the bottom were to collapse, the whole village would come tumbling down the hill and fall into the water.
As soon as they drew alongside the first house, Jane simply stopped and sat down on the river bank. Every muscle in her body ached, and she hardly had the strength to take Chantal from Ellis, who sat beside her with a readiness that suggested he, too, was wiped out. A curious face looked out from the house, and Halam immediately began to talk to the woman, presumably telling her what he knew about Jane and Ellis. Mohammed tethered Maggie where she could graze the coarse grass on the river bank, then squatted beside Ellis.
"We must buy bread and tea," Mohammed said.
Jane thought they all needed something more substantial. "What about the fish?" she said.
Ellis said: "It would take too long to clean and cook it. We'll have that for tonight. I don't want to spend more than half an hour here."
"All right," said Jane, although she was not sure she would be able to carry on after only half an hour. Perhaps some food would revive her, she thought.
Halam called to them. Jane looked up and saw him beckoning. The woman did the same: she was inviting them into her house. Ellis and Mohammed got to their feet. Jane put Chantal down on the ground, stood up, then bent down to pick up the baby. Suddenly her vision blurred at the edges and she seemed to lose her balance. For a moment she fought it, seeing only Chantal's tiny face surrounded by a haze; then her knees became weak and she sank to the ground, and everything went dark.
When she opened her eyes she saw a circle of anxious faces above her: Ellis, Mohammed, Halam and the woman. Ellis said: "How do you feel?"
"Foolish," she said. "What happened?"
"You fainted."
She sat upright. "I'll be all right."
"No. you won't," said Ellis. "You can't go any farther today."
Jane's head was clearing. She knew he was right. Her body would not take any more, and no effort of will would change that. She started to speak French so that Mohammed could understand. "But the Russians are sure to reach here today."
"We'll have to hide." said Ellis.
Mohammed said: "Look at these people. Do you think they could keep a secret?"
Jane looked at Halam and the woman. They were watching, riveted by the conversation even though they could not understand a word of it. The arrival of the foreigners was probably the most exciting event of the year. In a few minutes the whole of the village would be here. She studied Halam. Telling him not to gossip would be like telling a dog not to bark. The location of their hideout would be known all over Nuristan by nightfall. Was it possible to get away from these people, and sneak off up a side valley unobserved? Perhaps. But they could not live indefinitely without help from the local people—at some point their food would run out, and that would be about the time the Russians realized they had stopped and began searching the woods and canyons. Ellis had been right, earlier in the day, when he said their only hope was to stay ahead of their pursuers.
Mohammed drew heavily on his cigarette, looking thoughtful. He spoke to Ellis. "You and I will have to go on, and leave Jane behind."
"No," said Ellis.
Mohammed said: "The piece of paper you have, which bears the signatures of Masud, Kami! and Azizi, is more important than the life of any one of us. It represents the future of Afghanistan—the freedom for which my son died.''
Ellis would have to go on alone, Jane realized. At least he could be saved. She was ashamed of herself for the terrible despair she felt at the thought of losing him. She should be trying to figure out how to help him, not wondering how she could keep him with her. Suddenly she had an idea. "I could divert the Russians," she said. "I could let myself be captured, then, after a show of reluctance, 1 could give Jean-Pierre all sorts of false information about which way you were headed and how you were traveling. ... If I sent them off completely the wrong way, you might gain several days' lead—enough to get you safely out of the country!" She became enthusiastic about the idea even while in her heart she was thinking Don't leave me, please don't leave me.
Mohammed looked at Ellis. "It's the only way, Ellis," he said.
"Forget it," said Ellis. "It isn't going to happen."
"But, Ellis—"
"It isn't going to happen," Ellis repeated. "Forget it."
Mohammed shut up.
Jane said: "But what are we going to do?"
"The Russians won't catch up with us today," Ellis said. "We still have a lead—we got up so early this morning. We'll stay here tonight and start early again tomorrow. Remember, it isn't over until it's over. Anything could happen. Somebody back in Moscow could decide that Anatoly is out of his mind and order the search called off."