The Blood-stained Belt

by Brian H Jones

  ‘Yes, commander.’ I tried to keep my voice calm but my pulse began to race at the realisation that I had just received my first promotion even if it was only a temporary one.

  The adjutant said, ‘You will move immediately. Leave your packs here for the logistics unit to pick up. They’ll follow you.’ He saluted Sharma and said, ‘Take over, acting commander.’

  Sharma stepped forward, saluted, and shouted an order. With swords secured across our backs we set off at a quick trot. After an hour and a half, we took a short break at a village. Just under three hours later, as the sun was rising, we reached Erlata. It was a medium-sized village, with the main track – the one that we were following – running straight through it from east to west. The village elders told us that the attack took place about half an hour’s travel to the west at a place where the country became more broken and rugged before the escarpment tumbled down to the Great River.

  In Erlata we found someone who had witnessed the incident. He said that the attack took place where the track narrowed to pass between rocky hillocks in the sort of broken countryside that was common on the rim of the escarpment. The man said that he came around a corner in the track, saw the start of the attack, and concealed himself where he could watch without being seen. He said that there were about twenty Usserdites. The bandits killed all of the soldiers and some of the servants and took the rest of the party captive. As far as he could tell, about five of the bandits were killed during the attack.

  Sharma asked, ‘Were any of them mounted?’

  ‘I saw some donkeys carrying packs but I didn’t see any horses.’

  Sharma nodded in satisfaction and said, 'That means that they won't be moving quickly. We can catch them before nightfall.'

  One of the elders said dourly, ‘You'd better do a good job. If they get the captives back to Usserd, they’ll either be ransomed or they’ll be sold as slaves.’

  Another elder said, equally dourly, ‘If the women are young enough, their chiefs use them in their harems to breed men for their bodyguards.’

  Once again, Sharma and I exchanged glances. Once again, each knew what the other was thinking.

  We pressed on at a fast pace and, after about thirty minutes, reached the site of the attack where we found that the bodies were still lying next to the road. Their faces were bloody and disfigured as if a drunken butcher had hacked at them. This was an Usserdite trademark: they always cut out their enemies’ tongues and ears as offerings to their gods. Once they used to offer human sacrifices but now that they were more civilised, they only offered body parts from dead enemies.

  Sharma ordered us to give the bodies a provisional burial while he scouted around. After ten minutes, he came back and said, ‘They’ve taken their dead with them. That will also slow them down.’

  I asked, ‘Any sign of horses?’

  Sharma shook his head. ‘No, I can only find donkey tracks.’ He hitched up his sword and said tersely, ‘We should catch up with them before sunset. Let's get moving.’ He pointed south-west to a break in the jumble of rocks where a path snaked up the slope towards a ridge. ‘They’re travelling across country, away from the regular trails. With the donkeys carrying loads and with wounded men, they won’t be moving fast.’ Sharma hitched his sword over his back and asked, ‘Any questions?’

  Someone asked, ‘Do we kill them or do we capture them alive.’

  ‘You heard what the adjutant said. Kill anyone who offers resistance but try to take as many as possible alive.’

  Someone said heatedly, ‘We should eliminate every one of them.’

  Sharma’s eyes flashed when he replied, ‘We will obey our orders. But, if it helps to know why we’ve been ordered to take prisoners, remember that Keirine has a peace treaty with the Usserdite confederation. King Vaxili wants to show good faith by letting their own people deal with them.’ Sharma jerked a thumb towards the ridge. ‘That’s enough talking. We can bother about killing and capturing once we’ve caught up with them. Let’s go.’

  In early evening our advance scout reported that we had caught up with the raiders and Sharma and I went forward to observe their position. We crept up to the bushes that lined the top of a slope from which we could look down onto the river bank and watch the Usserdites moving about, lighting fires and laying out bedding rolls. Sharma touched my shoulder and muttered, ‘There they are – next to the donkeys.’

  I grunted in acknowledgement. I had also seen them. There were eight captives in all – Dana, Mecolo, Mecolo’s two brothers, their attendants, and two servants. They were lashed to trees and looked dirty and uncomfortable but, thank Zabrazal, they all appeared to be unharmed. As I looked at the small form of Dana, lashed against a tree, trussed up like a bag of someone’s possessions, my anger rose so high that it almost choked me. I wanted to rush down there, hack my way past anything that stood in my way, and take her in my arms. I wanted to feel her fear ebbing away while I whispered to her that, while I was alive, nothing would ever harm her again. I fought down the feeling, reminding myself of Zaliek’s words: 'Forget about revenge. Forget about resentment. They get in the way of clear thinking.' Sure, I would do that. But that wouldn’t save any Usserdite who stood in my way.

  After a few minutes, Sharma muttered, ‘We’ve seen enough. Let’s move back.’

  We slid back down the slope and rolled into the shelter of a small ravine. Sharma asked quietly, ‘How many of them?’

  ‘I saw fourteen Usserdites.’

  Sharma nodded. ‘Good. We agree. A few of them could have been out of sight by the river. Let’s say sixteen or seventeen at most.’ He looked at me keenly. ‘What are our options?’

  I said, ‘We could wait for about three hours until they’re asleep and then we could take them.’

  Sharma shook his head. ‘There's no moon tonight. If we attack in the dark, we’ll be as confused as they are. What's more, some of them will escape, for sure.’

  ‘What do you suggest, then?’

  Sharma tugged at an ear. ‘I think that we should wait until just before sunrise. We'll put five men on the other side of the river to deal with any of them who might get away. The rest of us should be able to handle them if we take them by surprise. You agree?’

  I nodded, trying to show composure. In fact, I was annoyed, not only because Sharma had trumped my plan but also because he was correct. Also, I was annoyed at myself. I had to admit that my eagerness to rescue Dana as soon as possible had overcome my cooler reason. Damn it, I thought, get a grip on yourself. You’re a soldier, not a schoolboy. I swallowed my pride and nodded again in agreement.

  The plan worked almost perfectly. Our comrades took up their positions across the river and at first light we launched our attack on the camp. We encountered only one guard, but he was asleep against a rock. We dealt with him with a sword thrust and within a few seconds we were within the encampment. By Zabrazal, they were a slovenly and negligent lot! They were lying around in disorder amidst wine jugs and the remains of their meal, surrounded by a jumble of equipment. Didn’t they think that they would be followed? Didn’t they even know how to set up a proper camp? It felt good to be a soldier, disciplined and orderly, when you came across scenes such as this one. We went about our business so quietly and with such commitment that eight of them were dead before anyone noticed our presence. By then it was too late to offer resistance. The remaining Usserdites had swords at their throats.

  I turned my attention to releasing the captives and stopped abruptly. One of the Usserdites had been on guard duty and must have been alerted by the noise from the camp. Sizing up the situation, he grabbed the nearest captive, slicing through the rope that bound her to the tree. He hauled her to her feet, backed behind her, and put a knife to her throat. Then he called out, ‘Let my comrades go or I'll cut her throat.’

  He was holding Dana. With her head pulled back and the knife at her throat, she squinted at me in confused terror. I moved forward but the man jerked Dana’s head further backwar
ds and shouted, ‘One more step and she’ll be dead.’

  There was an impasse for just a moment. Then Sharma and one of our comrades appeared behind the man, about ten paces from him. Sharma said, ‘If you kill her, we’ll kill you for certain. Give yourself up before there’s further harm.’

  The Usserdite looked around, looked back at me, and then cut Dana’s throat. Perhaps he thought that he could escape if he caused a diversion, perhaps he had a death wish – I don’t know.

  I rushed forward to Dana while Sharma cut the Usserdite down. Dana was lying face down. I turned her over. She was dead with her throat gashed and still with the look of terror on her face. I held her to me and wept while her blood oozed over my chest, over my stomach, and over my belt. That was the first blood-stain on the belt. Unfortunately it wasn’t the last.

  CHAPTER NINE: COMRADES

  That was the last time that I ever cried. Looking back on the incident, I knew that I betrayed my professional calling. By allowing myself the indulgence of weeping over Dana, I had disabled myself and had diverted my comrades’ attention. Later, still flushed with shame, I remembered again what Zaliek taught us during basic training. He drummed it into us that we should bury emotions such as grief, anger, vengefulness, and personal ambition. He taught us that these emotions distract a soldier from his task. I never again forgot Zaliek’s teaching. In any case, in the last analysis, isn’t death one of the commonplaces of a soldier’s trade? What does one more death matter when a soldier is serving in the line of duty?

  It was also the last time that I allowed myself to get close to a woman. At the time, I convinced myself that a relationship with a woman prevented me from focusing on my task as a soldier. But, looking back on it down the years, I have to admit that I never again wanted to tempt fate by offering it a target through which it could strike at me. Fate? Was it fate or was it Zabrazal, settling with me by wiping a batch of minuses off my scorecard all in one great scoop? I didn't know – but if it was Zabrazal, then in future he could settle with me directly and not through other parties.

  Of course, in the intensity of my grief I forgot that there were other targets at which Zabrazal could strike to discomfort me if that was his intention. For instance, there were my parents and there was my brother, Abozi. Even Sharma could have been a target.

  While I succumbed to a bout of unsoldierly weeping, Sharma and the rest of our comrades secured the Usserdites and released the captives. Mecolo’s eyes sparkled with pleasure when she saw Sharma and she held out her arms to him. But in a moment she recalled where she was and who she was, dropped her arms, and said formally, ‘I thank you all for your bravery. I thank you on behalf of everyone here.’ Mecolo wept when she kneeled next to Dana's dead body and she wept again when she offered me her condolences. However, within a few minutes she composed herself and began to discuss the situation with Sharma. I got hold of myself, dried my eyes, and walked over to join them. As deputy commander of the expedition, I had my duties to attend to.

  Sharma said to me, ‘I’ve told lady Mecolo that we have to move right now.’ He jerked his thumb towards the western bank of the river. ‘We don’t know what might come at us from over there.’

  Mecolo pointed to the captives who were standing linked by a rope with their hands bound behind their backs. She asked, ‘What about them?’

  Sharma replied, ‘My orders are to take as many prisoners as possible and to deliver them safely to Koraina.’

  Mecolo’s mouth tightened and her eyes went hard. She said, 'They’ll delay us on our journey. We should hang them now.’

  ‘Of course they deserve to be hung, my lady. Probably they will be hung. But that's not our decision. We have been ordered to take them to Koraina.’

  ‘And what if I order you to hang them now?’

  Sharma said steadily, ‘My lady, our orders come from your father, the king.’

  Mecolo said in a hard-edged voice, ‘That’s a pity! They deserve to be hung for what they did, not to mention for what they would have done with us.’ Mecolo walked over to the nearest prisoner, spat in his face, and said, ‘Pha! My father will deal with you. You’ll learn what it means to interfere with the daughter of Vaxili of Keirine.’ She pointed two fingers close to the man’s face as if she was going to poke out his eyes. When the man winced and averted his face, Mecolo gave a short laugh and said, ‘If it was up to me, you wouldn't leave this place alive.’ She spat at him again and walked away.

  As we approached Koraina, a crowd met us and accompanied us home with singing and ululation. We had won only a small victory over a disorganised band of thieves but after the disaster of Gandonda the people of Keirine welcomed any and every cause for celebration, no matter how insignificant. In the midst of the jubilation, no one took any notice of the dead bodies that were draped over the donkeys that trudged in our wake. Only family members and friends mourned the dead and they were a small minority amongst the people who thronged around us, singing our praises and assailing the prisoners with curses, blows, and threats. Keirine needed a military victory and if the real thing wasn’t available then these miserable bandits, bound for death either in Keirine or Usserd, would have to do instead.

  Mecolo had the good sense not to lead the celebration. In fact, she had been subdued ever since we rescued her. Probably her close contact with danger and terror had sobered her spirit, for the moment, at least. During the journey, she only brightened up on the occasions when Sharma walked next to her holding her donkey’s bridle and conversing with her in a low voice. I warned Sharma to avoid Mecolo’s company because their feelings for each other were so plain to see when they were together but he just grunted in annoyance and replied, ‘She’s the king’s daughter and I’m the commander of this unit. Do you expect me to ignore her?’

  When we reached Koraina, Vaxili, his commanders, and Izebol received us in front of the temple. Izebol blessed us, made a short speech of welcome, pronounced the benediction, and then disappeared into the temple. Vaxili congratulated us, paying tribute to our courage and initiative. Then he dismissed the parade and came down from the platform with his arm around Mecolo. He said to Sharma and me, ‘You have done both Keirine and me a great service.’

  Sharma replied, ‘It is our duty, your majesty.’

  Vaxili looked at us speculatively and asked, ‘Sharma and Jina, eh? First you were the scourge of the Dornites and now it’s the turn of the Usserdites.’

  I replied, ‘Your majesty, we are at the service of Keirine and the king.’

  Vaxili's eyes narrowed as he asked us, 'You're both from Osicedi, eh?'

  'Yes, your majesty.'

  Vaxili frowned. 'Hmm! Who would have thought that even the north would render me good service?' It was a strange remark, one that I forgot within a few seconds and only understood a few months later. Still looking at us closely as if he wanted to imprint our features on his memory, Vaxili said, ‘You will expect to be rewarded for your services, no doubt?’

  Sharma and I exchanged puzzled glances. Sharma replied, 'Only if it pleases your majesty to do so.'

  There was an awkward silence. Mecolo broke the tension by moving forward quickly and embracing me formally. She said, ‘I thank you on behalf of my father and on behalf of Keirine. I also thank you on my own behalf.’ Then, holding my hands, she said, ‘I will not forget Dana. She was my good friend and I loved her dearly.’ Mecolo embraced Sharma next, lingering just enough to whisper something to him. Sharma’s face brightened for a few seconds before he straightened his features.

  I sneaked a look at Vaxili, who was looking at Mecolo and Sharma darkly. As he watched Mecolo whispering to Sharma, he shook his head slightly as if relegating the impression to the deep reaches of his memory. Then he straightened, snapped his fingers as if recalling himself to duty, pointed to the prisoners, and asked Sharma, ‘How many of them did you kill?’

  ‘Ten, your majesty.’

  ‘Was that necessary? Couldn’t you have taken more prisoners?’

&
nbsp; ‘Your majesty, we did what the situation called for.’

  Vaxili asked tersely, 'But ten? Surely you could have killed fewer of them?'

  'Your majesty, we did what we had to do. We obeyed your orders in every respect.'

  Vaxili stroked his chin and looked from us to the prisoners and then back again. He gave a sceptical nod and said, ‘No matter. We have enough prisoners, whether we want to bargain with them or make an example of them.’ He nodded brusquely and turned on his heel.

  During the weeks that followed, Sharma and Mecolo saw a lot of each other. Although they tried to be discreet, it was impossible for the king’s daughter to conceal a relationship like this one. First they met at the stables where Mecolo pretended to be showing Sharma how to care for a horse. When that attracted a crowd of gawkers, they tried to meet out in the countryside. Mecolo went for a ride on her favourite horse while Sharma pretended to be going on a cross-country run. Their plan didn’t succeed, because, by order of her father, Mecolo always had to be accompanied by at least one lady-in-waiting and two bodyguards. Although she managed to outrun her entourage, she and Sharma hardly had time to begin a conversation before the first guard appeared, cursing and bumping on his mount and complaining that he would have to report Mecolo to her father.

  Next, Sharma and Mecolo gave up their attempts to meet during the daytime and began to meet under cover of darkness. Although this wasn’t difficult for Sharma because he could slip in and out of the camp easily, it was more difficult for Mecolo to get away without being noticed. The palace was just a small compound that had been formed by putting a wall around three of the more comfortable houses in the town and security was tight all over the complex. Mecolo devised the stratagem of disguising herself as a serving-woman and told Sharma that in this guise she was able to come and go without being observed. In my opinion, this was merely self-deception, especially when I remembered the dark look on Vaxili's face and felt more certain than ever that Mecolo would be watched day and night. Whatever she thought, this was a hazardous and foolish business. When I said this to Sharma, his eyelid twitched, the flecks in his eyes glowed and he poked his finger at me while asking belligerently, ‘What business is it of yours?’ However, in spite of his anger, he had a half--defiant, half--troubled look as if he wasn’t as certain about things as he liked to sound.