The Blood-stained Belt

by Brian H Jones

  Dana was small of build with a compact body that fitted together all of a piece and moved with the confident fluidity of an acrobat. Most of all, what attracted me was her liquid eyes that gleamed luminously against the setting of her olive skin. The glow in her eyes suggested that she had a delectable secret that she wanted to share with whoever was talking to her. As I got to know her, I learned that the secret was no more and no less than the pleasure that she took in life itself -- a pleasure so great that it emanated from her like the warmth of a hearth. She gave it to everyone who came within her orbit, but for a while – oh, Zabrazal, for a short while and so long ago, so long ago -- she gave it to me in particular in her own special way. When I think of it – and only that memory can rouse me now, nothing else – I wish with the useless poignancy of old age that I could reverse time and undo my bounded condition by going way back to when I first sat behind her in the temple. Then when, instead of bright recollections, the cruel starkness of my position fills me with bleak despair, I wish that Sharma would send them right now to set me free me forever from all memory and from all desire. It will be a most welcome release.

  At the temple, I used to squeeze into the row behind where Dana always sat. Forlornly, I would admire the way her hair curled at the nape of her neck, the seashell shape of her ears and the ripple of her shoulders under the fabric of her cotton tunic. If she turned to whisper to her companion or to glance around the temple, a pang of pleasure would dart through me as I got a close-up look at her profile. I also experienced pangs of guilt, wondering if Zabrazal was chalking up more minuses against my name whenever my attention wandered away from the priest and towards Dana. More acutely, I was embarrassed to think that Dana might be aware of how closely I scrutinised her in my helpless admiration.

  In short, I wanted to meet her badly – badly, badly, so badly! So help me, I even considered trying to do a deal with Zabrazal, offering to accept a clutch of minuses against my name on the divine scoreboard if only he would arrange for me to meet Dana. However, as it turned out, Zabrazal’s assistance wasn’t necessary. Dana solved the problem by approaching me one day as we were leaving the temple. She said, ‘You’re Jina, aren’t you?’

  I managed to untie my tongue long enough to say, ‘Yes, I am.’

  ‘Do you know Kentri?’

  My tongue got tied up again and a flush swept over me so that my palms flooded with sweat and my forehead began to thump. I must have looked like an idiot as I stared at her wordlessly because she raised her eyebrows and said coaxingly, ‘Kentri?’

  I muttered, ‘You know him?’ I tried to sound confident but I knew that my voice sounded squeakier than a fingernail being drawn across a piece of pottery. I cursed myself silently, tried to get control of my vocal cords, swallowed and said, ‘Uh – Kentri – yes, he’s in Osicedi – I mean, yes, I knew him at school.’

  Dana said, ‘Kentri is my cousin.’

  I said, ‘That’s good.’ She frowned as if trying to work out what I meant. Then I blurted out – I don’t know where it came from -- ‘That’s good, because he’s been lucky enough to know you for a long time.’

  Dina’s eyes glowed and she smiled mischievously. She said sweetly, ‘Well, you do know how to speak to girls, don’t you?’

  I blurted, ‘No.’

  ‘No? I thought that you were doing rather well.’

  ‘No. I mean – you know, it just came out –.'

  ‘It was a charming thing to say.’

  No one, especially a good-looking young woman, had ever referred to me in the same context as ‘charming’. Strong, loyal, impetuous – even pig--headed – those were descriptions that I sometimes heard. But ‘charming’ was unusual enough to tie my tongue up again. I flushed and forgot words while I tried to hide my sweating palms behind my back.

  Dana looked at me with a quizzical smile and asked, ‘Do you have a sore back?’

  ‘No. No – you know – my back is all right – no problem.’

  ‘It’s just the way you’re standing – I thought maybe –‘

  I tried to straighten and stand more naturally, wondering at the same time what a natural stance was when you were trying to make an impression on an attractive woman. Hands by your sides? Arms folded? Perhaps I should gesticulate more often to impress her with my vivacity? I said, ‘It’s just a bit of stiffness – you know, from training – crawling across the ground, you know. It’s no problem.’ As I spoke, anxiety made me clasp my hands even tighter behind my back.

  We were outside the temple now, standing in the shade of a tree. Dana asked, ‘Are you walking back to the camp?’

  ‘Uh – yes. Yes, I am.’

  ‘I’m also going in that direction. Let’s walk together, then.’

  We strolled down the road together. I was in a state of happy confusion. My emotions were seesawing. It was as if that moment could decide everything – and everything right then was whether I would be confirmed in happiness or abandoned in desolation. I wanted to speak and act in ways that would advance my cause, but, contrarily, I held back from doing so, for fear that my squeaky-voiced, gormless confusion would obliterate my chances of gaining a foothold in Dana’s affections.

  Dana said brightly, ‘I haven’t seen Kentri for about four years.’

  ‘Kentri?’

  ‘Kentri in Osicedi – you know, the person we were talking about earlier.’

  ‘Oh, right – Kentri. Yes, Kentri – he’s your cousin, isn’t he?’

  ‘Well, that was still the case, the last time I mentioned him. I don’t suppose that our relationship has changed in the last five minutes – not that I know about, anyway.’ She glanced at me quickly with her head tilted. Then she dropped her eyes and smiled mischievously. I could have sworn that she was laughing at me silently. If I had been on my own, I would have bashed my head against a wall in frustration at my ineptitude. I tried to recover the situation by changing the subject. I searched for a topic – any likely topic – and asked, ‘Do you know Sharma?’

  ‘Sharma? No, I don’t think that I do. Why do you ask?’

  ‘He’s my friend. He’s also from Osicedi.’

  Dana giggled and glanced at me mischievously, asking, ‘Does he know Kentri?’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Your friend Sharma?’

  ‘Yes, he’s my friend.’

  ‘So you said. But does he know Kentri?’

  ‘Kentri? Oh, yes, Kentri! I guess that he does. We were all at school together.’

  ‘Then I must meet Sharma some time.’

  Suddenly all my senses were on the alert. I imagined that if Sharma were here now, he wouldn’t be stumbling around in tongue-tied ineptitude. Instead, he would be fluent and assured, taking the initiative, making just the opposite impression of the one that I was making. Once again, I felt like bashing my head against a wall – but this time for a different reason. I muttered, ‘Yes, you could meet him some time. But, you know, he’s very busy, so maybe --’

  ‘Even busier than you?’ Dana grinned at me knowingly.

  ‘Well, he’s just about the busiest person that I know. He hardly ever has time to relax.’

  Dana chuckled. ‘Maybe I can meet him one day, if he stops being busy for a minute or two.’ She halted, pointed, and said, ‘I live down this way.’

  ‘You live with your family?’ I was trying to delay our parting and my question was about the best that I could do.

  ‘My mother died last year. I live with my father. He’s the chief cook to the royal court.’

  I said, ‘Ah!’ and hoped that it sounded profound.

  Dana moved away from me. Then she stopped and said, ‘I have enjoyed meeting you.’

  ‘Could we – ah – you know –?

  ‘Yes?’

  I blurted, ‘Meet again?’

  ‘Meet again? You mean could we meet again?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Dana pursed her lips and looked at me shrewdly. Then she chuckled and asked, ‘Would you like that?’

/>   I gulped, ‘Yes.’ Was my voice as high-pitched as it sounded?

  ‘Yes, I suppose that we could.’

  ‘At your home, perhaps?’

  She frowned, considered the matter, and replied with a mixture of seriousness and knowing humour, ‘No. That isn’t possible. My father is very possessive. The last man who tried to visit me at the house nearly came to a bad end.'

  'Really? How?'

  'My father threatened to boil him alive in cooking oil.’

  'Really? Boil him alive? He would do that?'

  Dana gave me a wondering look and then giggled. 'Who knows? He might. He is very possessive.' She giggled again, wrinkled her nose and asked, ‘Will you be at the temple tomorrow?’

  ‘I could be, if you’ll be there.’

  ‘Well, if you are there –‘

  ‘I will be there. For sure, I’ll be there.’

  ‘Good. Then we’ll probably see each other.’ Dana nodded and walked away. After a few steps, she turned and said with a straight face, ‘I hope that your back is feeling better tomorrow.’

  As she disappeared around the corner, I was torn by emotions. Mostly, I wanted to shout out to the world, 'Can you believe it! I'm going to see her tomorrow. How's that for luck?' On the other hand, I wanted to crawl into a dark place and kick myself for being such a graceless fool.

  I met Dana at the temple next day and for a number of days after that until there was no need of a pretext for meeting.

  One afternoon we strolled away from the town. Following the road southwards through the foothills, we wandered through open countryside. It was a quiet spring day, warm in the direct sunlight, with the air so still that the sounds from the town drifted to us as if the houses were no more than a few paces behind us. I reached for Dana’s hand, taking her nearest finger awkwardly. She gave me a swift look like a deer startled while grazing but she didn’t withdraw her hand.

  We walked hand-in-hand for a while, not saying anything, absorbed in this new intimacy. Then we sat down half way up a hillside, ensconced in the green folds of the slope and looking down over the red-dirt road that slashed its way across the bottom of the valley. Dana sighed happily and lay back with her hands under her head. I looked at the form of her body that was outlined under the fabric of her tunic. She stretched her arms above her head and the cloth pulled tighter across her breasts. I looked away, not wanting to stare at what I desired.

  Dana laughed lightly and asked, ‘Do you like me, Jina?’ She gave me her quick, half--knowing, half--humorous glance and then dropped her gaze.

  I mumbled, ‘Yes, of course.’

  ‘Then why won’t you look at me?’

  My throat constricted and my hands grew clammier. I mumbled, ‘I thought you wouldn’t like it.’

  ‘Oh, Jina! Is that true? Really?’

  I mumbled, ‘Yes.’

  Dana started to laugh. She sat up, hugging her legs with her chin resting on her knees. Then she glanced at me out of the corners of her eyes and laughed some more. When she stopped laughing, she said, ‘Oh, Jina –‘She couldn’t say any more because she started to giggle.

  I muttered, ‘Hey, what’s the joke?’

  Between giggles, Dana said, ‘You are amusing.’

  ‘No, I’m not.’

  ‘Oh, Jina, don’t get so upset. You make me happy.’

  I said, ‘I’ll tell you what, Dana. If anyone else called me amusing –’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I'd settle with them. They wouldn’t do it again, that’s for sure.’

  ‘Are you going to settle with me?’

  I took another deep breath and said, ‘You can call me amusing any time you want to – but only you.’

  Dana took my hand and laid it against her cheek. She said softly, ‘Thank you, Jina.’

  Dana lay back again with her arms behind her head, stretched, and gave a relaxed sigh. I propped myself on an elbow and looked at her. She raised her eyebrows and lazily returned my glance. I leaned forward and kissed her tentatively. It was the first time that I had kissed a woman and I didn’t know what to expect. Her lips were moist and receptive and opened slightly to receive me. I pressed my lips closer and a flush like lightning darted across my body. I withdrew guiltily, embarrassed to think that Dana must have felt it too. But she just lay there in the same relaxed position, smiled slowly, and murmured, ‘That was nice.’

  I leaned over to repeat the experience but she put up a restraining hand, saying, ‘Enough for now, Jina.’

  ‘I want –‘

  Dana raised her hand again, closed her eyes, and murmured, ‘Take it slowly, Jina. We have plenty of time.’

  As it turned out, we didn’t have plenty of time. But we couldn’t know that, creatures of the moment as we were, idling in the sun on a grassy hillside.

  The lightning was still darting through my body, igniting my senses. At the same time, my mind was in a haze of confusion as if the concentration of force in my senses had drained my other faculties. I flopped onto my back, lying next to Dana, hands behind my head as well. I exhaled, breathed in deeply, and exhaled again. The thumping in my blood began to subside. I exhaled again.

  Dana said gently, ‘Good things come to those who wait.’ I glanced at her. Her dark eyes were enigmatic. I thought I caught a flicker of teasing amusement but it was only a flash and I couldn’t be sure. Dana held my gaze for a moment and then closed her eyes, inclining her head to receive the full radiance of the sun.

  We lay there, enveloped by warmth and by the silence of the valley. The quietness lay across me like a blanket soothing my senses back towards normality. I closed my eyes and began to doze. As I drifted between waking and dozing, I thought how paradoxical it was that Dana could fire my senses and at the same time lull me into a state of relaxation.

  We must have been lying there for about ten or fifteen minutes in silence when Dana said something. I asked, ‘Hmm? What?’

  Dana said, ‘I asked whether you ever felt that you could drift like the clouds.’ She stretched out and put her hand across mine, palm lying against palm.

  ‘Drift? Like the clouds?’

  ‘Yes, like the clouds.’

  ‘No, I haven’t ever felt that.’

  ‘I have. I imagine that my body expands and diffuses –‘

  ‘Diffuses? What’s that?’

  ‘It gets thinner, less solid – oh, you know, it gets almost like a cloud, so that it floats and drifts.’

  ‘Where does it float and drift to?’

  Dana clicked her tongue in exasperation, saying, ‘Don’t be so practical!’

  I hesitated, pondering a suitable response. Once again, Dana had caught me off guard, making me stumble over both my thoughts and my tongue. I responded cautiously, ‘I’d like to be a cloud with you.’

  ‘Oh, Jina! Really!’

  ‘I’m serious.’

  ‘Are you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And if you were like a cloud --?’

  Lying back with my eyes closed, I said, ‘Imagine if we could leave the highlands. Imagine if we could leave Keirine.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Imagine if our bodies weren’t so heavy with our feet always thumping back into the earth! Imagine if we could float and drift instead of having our weight always pulled down onto the earth. Imagine that!’

  Dana squeezed my hand. ‘Yes?’

  ‘Well, I guess that’s about it.’

  ‘No, Jina, that’s only the beginning. Imagine if you were like a cloud -- where would you drift to?’

  I closed my eyes and thought for a while before I replied, ‘I’d drift eastwards. I’d drift over the lowlands, I’d drift right over Dornite territory, and I’d drift right over the coastline.’

  ‘And then --?’

  ‘Then I’d drift over the Endless Ocean. I’d drift over the islands.’

  ‘Yes? The islands?’

  ‘I’d see the ocean and the islands all spread out beneath me.’

  Dana murmured, �
��That would be beautiful.’

  ‘Yes, it would be.’

  ‘Tell me more!’

  ‘The islands would be like pearls set in the neck-piece of a gown.’

  Dana replied dreamily, ‘Like pearls? Yes, perhaps they would be – green and brown and ochre pearls? Who knows?’ She ran her fingers across the palm of my hand. ‘And could I be drifting with you, seeing the same things?’

  ‘Of course. Look at the sky. It’s huge. It stretches from here to the limit of the world wherever that is. We can’t see the beginning of it and we can’t see the end. There must be room for a hundred thousand clouds all drifting at one and the same time. For sure, there's room for both us and plenty more.’

  Dana said nothing for a while. Then she remarked reflectively, 'You're not always practical, are you?’

  ‘Not when I’m with you.’

  Dana sighed and said softly, 'Keirine is not a place for people who dream of being clouds.'

  'No? How do you mean?'

  Dana didn't reply for a while. She sat up, arms clasped around her legs, looking out over the valley. Then she inclined her head towards Koraina and said almost angrily, 'Oh, out here a person can dream of clouds and drifting over islands -- and you can dream of whatever you want to be. But back there -- huh!'

  'Back there? You mean --?'

  'Yes, in Koraina, especially there. What do they care about dreams and possibilities?'

  ‘They dream about making Keirine safe and secure. Isn't that worth something?'

  ‘Huh! You dream about that! Oh, don’t be so – so naive, so – so idealistic -- there aren’t a lot of people like you – especially back there.’

  ‘But for the good of Keirine –‘

  'Keirine! What is Keirine? I ask you, what is it?'

  'It's our home, Dana, it’s our home -- that's what it is.'