The Blood-stained Belt

by Brian H Jones

  After a while, Sharma said regretfully, ‘Maybe you’re right.’

  ‘Yes, maybe I am.’

  ‘I’ll think about it.’

  ‘You do that, Sharma! Oh, yes, you do that!’

  Of course, Sharma didn’t change his mind and he didn’t change his behaviour, either. Vaxili couldn’t keep Sharma penned up in the camp all the time like a dog tied to a stake. Sharma was entitled to leave and time off just like the rest of us and, as a free citizen he was entitled to go wherever he wanted when he was off duty. Predictably, he went on seeing Mecolo whenever he could. He did try to keep his affair with Mecolo quiet and out of the public eye -- but how could anyone keep a thing like that away from the attention of the king, if the king made it his business to know about it? Sharma pushed his luck, his relationship with Mecolo deepened, and Vaxili fumed and plotted his response. Of course, the matter came to a head soon enough, as it was bound to. But before that, there was another battle with the Dornites – not a sneak attack on one of their towns, but a regular head-to-head confrontation, just like Gandonda.

  The next full-scale Dornite attack came about six months after our attack on Asjolorm. Why did the Dornites take so long to mobilise? Perhaps they were distracted by their squabbles over appointing a new military commander. Perhaps they were arguing about strategies. Perhaps they wanted to prepare an even more powerful force, one that would inflict decisive damage on Keirine and on the Keirineian army. Whatever the reason, the delay gave Keirine time to prepare for the Dornite onslaught.

  One morning, in the middle of drill parade, our unit was ordered to relocate to the south-eastern border. As we headed out of camp, Zaliek rode beside us, bellowing, ‘Get your line straight! Sit upright in the saddle!’

  As Zaliek drew abreast of me, I asked, ‘What’s the emergency, commander?’

  ‘Emergency? Who said it was an emergency? Maybe we’re going to have a picnic somewhere on the frontier. How about that, eh?’

  ‘It doesn’t feel like a picnic, commander.’

  Zaliek reined in his horse so that it trotted alongside mine. He said, ‘We’ll get our orders when we pass through Koraina but it’s my guess that the Dornites are on the move.’

  Sharma leaned over and asked, ‘What’s our role going to be, commander?’

  ‘Scouting, mostly – that's my guess.’ Zaliek shrugged and added, ‘Perhaps we'll make some attacks on the Dornite’s supply lines. Who knows?’ He shrugged again before he grinned sardonically and said, ‘Let’s hope they don’t want to use you as cavalry in a regular battle. That could be the end of you lot.’

  There was an edge to Sharma’s voice when he asked, ‘Don’t you think we’re good enough?’

  Zaliek looked at Sharma appraisingly and asked, ‘What did I say about courage during basic training? Remember?'

  Sharma looked away sulkily and pretended to be adjusting his horse’s bridle. Zaliek chuckled knowingly and asked, ‘Do you remember, Deputy Commander Jina?’

  I replied, ‘You said that courage isn’t enough. You said that it’s enough to get yourself killed but it’s not enough to defeat the enemy.’

  Zaliek snapped his fingers. ‘Exactly! You’re a light mounted unit while the Dornites use heavy cavalry. They’ll run over you in a head-to-head encounter.’ Zaliek snapped his fingers again and growled, ‘You see, Deputy Commander Sharma, it has nothing to do with your own, personal, precious, celebrated courage! Are you satisfied?’

  Still looking sulky, Sharma replied with something between a grunt and a muffled acknowledgement.

  Zaliek leaned over and asked sharply, ‘I asked, are you satisfied?’

  ‘Yes, commander! I am satisfied.’

  The rain started about half an hour after we left the camp. Although it was just a persistent drizzle weeping morosely from a low sky, ahead of us, to the south, lightning flickered over the hills and the clouds were swollen and molten black with menace. I cursed, adjusted my headgear, put my head down and drew my coat tighter across my chest.

  Sharma said, ‘Don’t curse the weather.’

  ‘Why not? It’s damn miserable.’

  ‘If this rain keeps up, it’s going to be even worse for the Dornites. Their chariots will be bogged down in the mud and their cavalry won’t find it much easier. It will reduce their mobility by half.'

  I grunted despondently. It was a small consolation amidst the discomfort.

  The rain was pelting down by the time we rode into Koraina. While Zaliek reported to headquarters to receive orders, we dismounted and found shelter wherever we could. That was difficult because the place was in a ferment of activity. Carts and wagons were being loaded with supplies, troops were assembling under full packs, and orderlies were running around with harassed expressions. There was noise and activity everywhere. Sharma looked around, hesitated, and then asked me, ‘Will you look after my horse for a while?’

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘Just look after my horse. I won’t be long.’

  ‘Don’t be a fool, man. If you’re not here when Zaliek gets back –‘

  ‘I won’t be more than a few minutes!’ Sharma shook my hand off his arm and headed away from me at a fast jog.

  I called after him, ‘You won’t find her, man! You haven’t got the time.’

  Sharma didn’t give any indication that he heard me. I stood there holding his horse’s reins, cursing him for being such a pig-headed fool.

  Zaliek returned within a few minutes and ordered us to mount. Then he saw the empty saddle and bellowed, ‘Where’s Sharma?’

  I replied, ‘He’ll be back right away, commander.’

  ‘I didn’t ask when he'd be back! I asked where he is.’

  I said, truthfully, ‘I don’t know, commander.’

  Someone said with a snigger, ‘Perhaps he’s gone to answer a call of nature.’

  Zaliek looked around grimly and said, ‘It depends on which part of his nature is calling, eh?’

  Just then Sharma appeared at a run. Zaliek glared at him and shouted, ‘Where did you go to, deputy commander?’

  Sharma replied calmly, ‘I was just getting some exercise, commander.’

  Zaliek shouted, ‘In future, you stay with your unit until I give you orders to disband. Understand?’

  ‘Yes, commander.’

  We headed southwards out of Koraina. After a few minutes, I asked quietly, ‘Did you find her?’ Sharma shook his head. I continued, ‘It’s just as well that you didn’t.’ Sharma grunted and I said, ‘You need to focus on what’s waiting for us. Forget about Mecolo, just like you forget about everything else that gets in the way of what you have to do. Focus on what you have to do. Your life could depend on it – not to mention the rest of us, as well.’

  Sharma shot me a quick look and pursed his lips before he muttered truculently, 'It's all right for you. You don't have --' He stopped and looked away.

  I felt like leaning over and slapping him hard across his face. Slap? In fact, I felt like punching him so hard that his words would be driven right back to where they came from. I clenched my fists on the reins, bit back my anger, got a hold of myself, and said, ‘I don’t want you to get injured or killed, Sharma.’ He shot me another quick look but still said nothing. I continued, ‘It’s a damned nuisance, dealing with injured comrades. Do you think that I want to haul your body off the battlefield when I should be fighting the Dornites? So my advice is that you focus on what we have to do and forget about everything else. All right?’

  By way of response, Sharma just grunted and looked sulky.

  That night, we camped at our old base on the escarpment just north of Gandonda. The huts were empty because the soldiers who had been occupying the base had left that morning to join the army which was on the march somewhere to the west of us.

  We settled in, grateful to have warmth and shelter and relieved to be able to stretch our stiff limbs. Gusts and squalls propelled the rain so fiercely that it felt like miniature arrowheads of ice. We la
id out our cloaks to dry – not that there was much chance of that happening – and settled down to munch at our field rations. Just then, Zaliek appeared. His eyes flickered with amusement when he saw us glumly munching on our rations. He said, 'Not like the soft and easy life of camp, is it? Almost like doing something useful with your lives, eh?' Then he barked, ‘Sharma and Jina! I want to see you as soon as you’ve finished eating.’

  ‘We’re coming, commander.’

  ‘Finish your meal first. You’ll need it for what’s coming.’

  A few minutes later, we joined Zaliek, huddling with him in the lee of one of the huts, pulling our greatcoats tight against the swirling wind. Zaliek got straight to the point: ‘The Dornites are on the move down there.’ He nodded eastwards towards the coastal plain.

  Sharma asked, ‘Are they in full force, commander?’

  Zaliek nodded. 'The scouts say it looks like they have a bigger force than they had at Gandonda.’

  I asked, ‘What’s our role, commander?’

  ‘Eager to get into action, eh? Don’t you ever lose your appetite for gobbling up Dornites?’

  ‘Not while I’m serving Keirine, commander.’

  Zaliek chuckled. ‘If Keirine had a few more like you, the Dornites would have been driven into the sea by now.’ Then he said somberly, ‘This is where I leave you. You’re on your own from now on.’ Zaliek jerked his thumb towards the escarpment and the rain-veiled plains beyond it. He said, ‘Your orders are to harass the Dornite supply lines. You’ll divide the unit into two sections. Each of you will command one of the sections. Liaise with one another and try never to operate separately. After three days, you will link up with the army. Any questions?’

  My blood raced faster. I would be commanding my own unit for the second time – but now we would be facing Dornite soldiers not a bunch of bandits or confused, panicky civilians. I had a score of questions but I suspected that Zaliek wouldn’t be able to answer them. The simple fact was that we were on our own from now on.

  Sharma and I led our units out at first light. The air was moist and heavy, the clouds were low, and the ground was sodden but at least it had stopped raining. Our plan was to make our way over the escarpment following the path that we used on our approach to Asjolorm. After that, we would turn south towards the main highway on the assumption that the Dornite army was somewhere in the vicinity of the pass at Gandonda.

  Just after we linked up with the highway at about mid-morning, we intercepted a Dornite trader who was on his way to Asjolorm. He was an elderly man with a large paunch, a bald head, and a squint, wearing a cloak and a tunic made of material that was so coarse that it felt like the sacking that my father used as wrapping for his bales. When we hauled him off his donkey, the pathetic fellow actually pissed in fright so that the disgusting yellow liquid ran down his legs, steaming in the cold air. We searched his packs but found nothing of any significance. Privately, I pitied the fellow for his poverty. I remembered my father's wagon, piled high with wool and hides and for a moment I pitied the man even more. Then I shrugged these diverting thoughts aside – this was war not a sociable meeting – and ordered my men to interrogate the trader. A knife held to his throat elicited the information that late the previous evening he passed a large Dornite detachment heading for the pass.

  To extract more information, our men knocked blindfolded the fellow and knocked him around a bit, making a game of it by forming a circle and shoving him in all directions so that he never knew who would push him next or in which direction he would stumble. Then, when he dropped to the ground sniveling and exhausted, we threatened to torture him if he didn't tell us everything that he knew. At that, he sobbed and clung to Sharma's legs so tightly that he had to be prised loose and dragged away while Sharma looked at him in distaste. To get him to talk some more, some of our men held him down, pulled up his tunic, and pressed a knife against his genitals. Although he writhed, wailed, and screamed, even in the extreme of his terror he could only repeat what he had already said.

  It was clear that he had nothing more to offer so I decided to let him go. However, Sharma pointed out that the man should be prevented from carrying information to the Dornite army, just in case that was in his mind. When we killed his donkey, the man cried out and kneeled down next to the dead beast weeping and rocking up and down so that his head hit the ground with a soft thud with each forward movement. At that point, Sharma had second thoughts and wanted to kill the fellow but I couldn't see the sense in it. Truly, I had had enough of slaughtering pathetic creatures. It brought back such unpleasant memories that I could have imitated the fellow by knocking my own head against the ground if only that would have cleared my mind of the images that beset it. Of course, I didn't say that to Sharma. Instead, I told him that killing a helpless civilian would demoralise our men. Sharma muttered 'Maybe you're right', and ordered two of our men to get rid of the fellow. They lashed him to one of our spare horses and rode off with him with orders to release him somewhere to the south at a considerable distance from the highway. As he disappeared into the mist with his escort, he was bent forward over the horse's neck, shoulders hunched, like a condemned man going to his death. Probably he was too frightened to understand that we were giving him his freedom.

  At midday we split up. Sharma’s section went south of the highway and my section went north. It was a miserable afternoon. The wind gusted off the escarpment, rain battered us in sharp squalls and the ground was cold and sodden. Nothing moved on the highway. It was as if the world had been cleared of life and only our detachment was remained to trudge over its dreary surface.

  In the early evening, I rode over and joined Sharma.

  I said, ‘We’re wasting our time. The Dornites aren’t bringing up supplies today.’

  Sharma nodded. ‘They probably have everything that they need for the moment.’

  We huddled together, cold and wet, considering the situation. Sharma said, ‘They probably took enough with them to last for a few days. After that, they’ll bring up fresh supplies and live off the land at the same time.’

  ‘If our army doesn’t stop them.’

  Sharma said grimly, ‘Yes, if our army doesn’t stop them.’ He stamped his feet vigorously and cursed. ‘By Zabrazal, this is miserable! No action, and freezing weather on top of it.’

  I said, 'We’re wasting our time. We need to find the Dornites or link up with our own forces.’

  Sharma muttered, ‘I can tell you where the Dornites are – somewhere up there.’ He pointed towards the pass and the escarpment.

  ‘Well, then, let’s go and find them. We’re not doing any good, hanging around here.’

  We spent a miserable night in the open, sheltering under trees and bushes, huddled together. Early next morning we moved eastwards, parallel with the highway. It was slow going, keeping an eye on the road, sending out scouts, waiting for their reports, and then moving forward cautiously over the rough, sodden ground. Finally, at mid-afternoon, one of our scouts reported that he thought that he had located the Dornite army. Sharma and I rode forward to investigate and just before sunset we found the enemy camped in a valley to the south of the highway.

  We crept up to the top of the ridge, cursing under our breaths as we elbowed through mud and as the damp seeped into our clothes. Worming our ways to the edge, we looked into the valley. Sharma gave a low whistle. ‘It’s them all right.’

  ‘It’s a bigger force than last time, I reckon.’

  ‘It sure looks like it.’

  As the light faded, we studied the position. Sharma said, ‘They’re supremely confident. They don’t even have scouts out on this side to cover their rear.’

  I replied grimly, 'Based on their last performance, they have reason to be confident.'

  Sharma said, 'Let's hope that our commanders have come up with something new. Our army won't survive another defeat like the last one.'

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN: THE SWING OF THE PENDULUM

  What could we do wit
h only fifty men? There we were, unobserved, within striking distance of the Dornite camp but unable to carry out a decisive action. In my frustration, I imagined that I could stretch out my hand, seize the whole camp, and crush it in my fist. After all, what was it but a few thousand men? From our position on the ridge, with the whole camp spread out beneath us in the valley, the camp had the appearance of toy tents and toy soldiers. It seemed incongruous that such a small force could stand between Keirine and security.

  However, even as I fantasised about removing the whole Dornite army with one sweep of my hand, I recognised that these few thousand men and what they represented had already changed the shape of Keirine. Somewhere in front of the Dornites, lying across their line of advance, there was a king with an army -- the first king and army that Keirine ever had. Without the threat of the Dornites, Keirine would have continued with its old, timeworn practices as a tribal federation with part-time militias. Now things had changed forever, for better or for worse.

  We lay there shivering and damp for about an hour while night fell and the Dornites lit fires and prepared their meals. Pairs of guards were posted all around the camp. As we peered into the valley and considered various possibilities, I suddenly had an idea. I nudged Sharma and whispered, ‘The supply wagons!’

  Sharma said, ‘That’s a possibility!’

  The wagons were standing together on the southern side of the camp with their contents covered by oilskins. I said, ‘The contents will be dry. If we can get fire into the wagons, under the oilskins –‘