The Blood-stained Belt

by Brian H Jones

  I replied, ‘I have my duties’ and pushed past her, not wanting to be diverted by someone who could only bring me trouble.

  She called after me, ‘Where are you going, if I may ask?’

  I stopped and said, ‘Now that you’ve reminded me of my duties, I’m going to leave for the frontline as soon as I’ve had a meal and got my kit together.’

  Roda’s eyes flickered as if she wanted something but didn’t know how to ask. Then she put out her hand, dangling a bracelet, saying, 'Please give this to Sharma. Tell him that I'm thinking of him and waiting to greet him with a hero's welcome when he returns.' She said the word 'greet' with such an accent of insinuation that I bridled. I refused to take the bracelet, saying, 'Sharma will have more things on his mind than trinkets.'

  Roda looked me up and down, put her face close to mine, and hissed, 'Who are you to say what is on Sharma's mind?'

  'I am his deputy commander. By Zabrazal, how can you concern yourself with ornaments when we are all in deadly danger?'

  Roda looked me in the eye defiantly and replied, 'If you know what is good for you, you will give this to Sharma.'

  Abozi snatched the bracelet from Roda, saying impatiently, 'We'll take the damn thing to Sharma.' To me, he said, 'Let's go, brother. We're wasting time.' He snorted and stalked away.

  When I caught up with him, I asked, 'Why did you do that? Can't you see that she's nothing but a packet of trouble?'

  Abozi replied, 'Then let's not look for more trouble over such a small thing.' He dropped the bracelet into my pack, saying, 'Don't be so stubborn, man. Give it to Sharma and then forget about it.'

  Our men were ranged along the southern edge of the central massif while Vaxili's army was camped in a valley about half a day's march away. Sharma took us up to a vantage point and outlined the situation, saying, 'It's a stalemate. Vaxili won't advance into the mountains and we can't meet him in a regular battle.'

  I said, 'The question is: Who can play the waiting game the longest?'

  Sharma grunted and swept his arm across the plain. 'Vaxili has the advantage. He's cut our supply lines. The only way that we can access supplies without risk is by getting them from Durgenu.'

  Abozi said, 'We don't have much time and we don't have enough money. We're deep enough in debt to that Dornite shopkeeper as it is.'

  Sharma scratched his chin and looked at us shrewdly. He observed, 'That's exactly what Vaxili will be thinking. That being so, this is the time to strike.'

  Sharma's plan was simple. We would attack Vaxili's camp two nights later when the waxing moon would provide just enough light to see by. Some of our men would create a diversion at the head of the valley while men on both sides of the valley would hurl fire-pots into the camp. A further detachment of our force would be sited at the entrance to the valley to cut off any soldiers who fled from the camp.

  On the evening of the attack, Sharma and I went forward to a place from where we could look over the valley and review the plan for the attack. As the sun dropped below the horizon and Sharma turned to leave, I asked him, 'What do the omens say?'

  Sharma gave me a look that was a mixture of surprise and disdain as if I was hauling up an obscure incident from a discredited past. He grunted, 'Omens, eh? Ask a priest if you can find one.'

  'You're going ahead without consulting the omens?'

  Sharma put his hands on his hips and faced me squarely. He said, 'I don't want to hear any more talk of omens. Hear me, and hear me well, Jina – no more talk of omens!'

  'But if the men –'

  'The men will go where I lead them. That's what I expect of them and that's what I know they'll do.' Sharma looked hard at me and said pointedly, 'And that's what I expect of my commanders as well.' He turned and stalked off towards the camp with me in his wake. After a few minutes, he stopped and said fiercely, 'Where was Zabrazal when my father was humiliated to the point of death? Where was Zabrazal when my mother killed herself rather than live with her shame? And, come to that, where was Zabrazal when your father died helpless and exposed out there in the wilderness? And when Dana --' He slammed a fist against his chest like a wrestler issuing a challenge. 'Zabrazal the Merciful! Zabrazal the Defender of Keirine!’ He spat into the dirt contemptuously and then ground the spot with the heel of a boot. ‘Ha! I tell you, Jina, from now on Zabrazal is no concern of mine. You hear me? I say -- no concern of mine!'

  By now we had reached the top of a ridge from which we could see the higher slopes to which we were heading. They were darkly turquoise in the twilight, solid shapes that bulked against the great background of the evening sky. Sharma stopped and swept his arm around. 'You see these mountains? They are ours because we have made them ours.' He pointed towards Osicedi. 'You see all that land down there? Tomorrow it will be ours once more because we will have taken it, just like we’ve taken this place.' Sharma's voice now had a grating edge to it. 'You know what lies down there, Jina – my brother's grave, my parents' graves, your father's grave … and over there –‘ He pointed due south. ‘Over there lies Dana, dead to no purpose – do I have to continue? No, I think not. And whose lives have been changed because of those deaths? Our lives, or Zabrazal's life? Ha! You know the answer as well as I do.' Sharma slammed a fist against his chest again. 'Keirine is my concern, Keirine is the concern of all of us – and Keirine is what we will make of it, not what a bunch of lying, self-serving priests say it could or should be.'

  At first Sharma's words were like a slap across my face. I felt as if something deep within me had been torn loose from its foundations. Then, as we entered the camp and were surrounded by the commonplace of our existence – the fires, the women preparing the meals, the laughter of children, the low voices of the men as they tended to their equipment – I thought, Yes, Zabrazal, where are you in all of this? As always, I didn't have the answer. However, now for the first time, I knew with certainty that the question was fruitless because it never would be answered. What was the point of crying for the moon especially when a thousand earlier cries had produced no result? Sharma was right – Keirine was what we would make of it – we and we alone. We didn’t have the time or the resources to wait for an inscrutable god to make himself known to us.

  The attack on Vaxili’s encampment was even more successful than we hoped it would be. To start with, more than half of the fire-pots found their marks, causing fires all over the camp. At the same time, after raising a thunderous noise -- shouting, beating their shields, shaking rattles and blowing trumpets and whistles -- our men advanced on the camp in line abreast. They were able to move a long way into the camp, driving the opposition before them, until they had to halt because of the fires and because of the resistance that they were meeting. At that moment, other detachments of our men swept down from the sides of the valley with a great clamour, causing further panic amongst the enemy soldiers and driving them down the valley.

  The second part of the plan worked to perfection. At sunrise, while Vaxili and those who remained – less than half of the original number -- were trying to sort out the wreckage in their camp, our men attacked from the places where they had lain concealed. There was some vigorous resistance, especially from Vaxili's royal guard, but most of the enemy soldiers surrendered quite tamely, probably not only because we had them in a vice but also because they had heard about Sharma's proclamation that we would treat prisoners leniently.

  Vaxili fought with almost unnatural vigour until he was overwhelmed by force of numbers and captured. Our men began to slap him around, taunting him, but Sharma stopped them, saying, 'He is the king. Treat him with the respect that the King of Keirine deserves.'

  Abozi and I raised our eyebrows at each other. I could see that we were thinking the same thing. After all that Sharma had suffered at the hands of Vaxili -- not to mention what Lower Keirine had suffered – courteous treatment was a lot more than Vaxili deserved.

  Before we set the prisoners to work cleaning up the camp so that we could use it as a temporary ba
se, Sharma addressed them, telling them that we were all Keirineians and urging them not to make war on their compatriots in future. He also recounted the indignities that Lower Keirine had suffered at the hands of Vaxili and appealed to people in Upper Keirine to understand that their compatriots in the north were justified in resisting oppression. Then, after they had done their work, the prisoners were marched southwards and released at a spot that was close to the border with Upper Keirine.

  That evening, Sharma brought Vaxili before our commanders. Sharma treated Vaxili deferentially, calling him 'Your Majesty' and making sure that he was comfortably seated and waited on by his own attendants. When Sharma began by making a speech similar to the one that he made earlier that day, outlining the indignities and atrocities from which we had suffered, Vaxili listened impassively, only occasionally showing signs of impatience and annoyance. However, when Sharma finished, Vaxili rose to his feet, his hands at his sides like a soldier on parade, and cried, 'I demand to be released. I am your king. You may not make a prisoner of your king.'

  Sharma said mildly, 'Your majesty, it would be better if we could conduct this conversation in an orderly manner. Please be seated.' For a moment it looked as if Vaxili was going to refuse. Then he threw himself into his chair, sighing in an exaggerated manner and puffing out his cheeks impatiently. Sharma said, 'Thank you, your majesty. Now, allow me to explain that you are not a prisoner. You are merely being kept in protective custody for your own safety.'

  Vaxili jabbed a finger at Sharma and roared, 'Protective custody! My own safety! I don't need any assistance from you, you womanising toad!'

  I'll say this for Vaxili -- he had his weaknesses and moral shortcomings – in fact, he had plenty of them -- but he didn't lack personal courage. Mind you, perhaps it wasn’t really courage; perhaps it was just that he was short of a few measures of intelligence. Bluster and bravado didn’t do his case much good. By the time that Vaxili had finished insulting Sharma and the gathering at large, most of our commanders would happily have strung him up immediately if Sharma had not intervened by announcing that Vaxili would be released as soon as all the garrisons withdrew from Lower Keirine.

  After the meeting, I asked Sharma, 'Why should we let him go?'

  Sharma replied, 'Because he is the king.'

  'He's also a damned rogue. Look at what he's done to you alone let alone to thousands of other people!'

  Sharma replied obdurately, 'He is the anointed king. He’s a weak man, more’s the pity, but that doesn't change the fact that he is the King of Keirine.' Seeing the look on my face, Sharma smiled ironically and said half-teasingly, 'What was it that Zaliek used to teach us? "Forget about revenge. Forget about resentment. They get in the way of clear thinking." Isn't that what he used to say?' I nodded. Sharma clapped me on a shoulder and cried, 'Well, let's apply those words to our present situation, eh, man?’

  I couldn't stop myself from saying, 'I remember that you said that you could never forgive Vaxili!'

  Sharma's voice hardened. 'That's still true. I will never forget what he has done.' Then he said almost pleadingly, 'But, Jina, surely you see that we must distinguish between Vaxili the man and Vaxili the king, for the good of the nation.'

  I cried in real frustration, 'What is the distinction?'

  Sharma replied, 'That's a good question, my friend. I don't have a complete answer. But I do know that if we harm Vaxili now then we will do violence to Vaxili the king – and by so doing, we will do further harm to the fabric of the kingdom.'

  Later, I heard a rumour that Sharma told Vaxili privately that the price of his freedom also included allowing Mecolo to return to Sharma at which Vaxili declared that he would rather die than acquiesce to such a demand. Perhaps it was true. I never asked Sharma and he never discussed the matter with me. In any event, Vaxili got his freedom about one week later when all of his garrisons had withdrawn from Lower Keirine.

  We left a detachment to guard the camp and went back to our mountain base to move out our supplies and equipment. We didn’t realise it then, but this was the end of our period of existence as fugitives. As we rode back to the base, I thought with satisfaction that now we had our feet back on the rungs of the ladder. We were climbing again. I didn't know where the ladder was leading us but, at least, we were on the move upwards.

  When we reached our base, Roda came running to meet Sharma and welcomed him by throwing her arms around him, calling out that he was a victor and a hero. I was standing just behind Sharma while Roda embraced him and, over his shoulder, she gave me a glance that was both defiant and provocative. Then, her body moulded against Sharma’s, she tilted her head and asked, 'My lord, did you wear my bracelet into battle and did it bring you good fortune?' Of course, Sharma asked, 'Which bracelet?' and of course Roda replied, 'The one that I asked Jina to give to you.'

  Holding Roda around the waist, Sharma asked me, 'Do you know about this bracelet, Jina?'

  I hauled the thing out of my pack, saying, 'Here it is.'

  Sharma's face darkened. He snatched it from me, put it onto his wrist, and turned away without another word. Later, he asked me privately, 'Why didn't you give the bracelet to me before the battle?'

  I replied, 'There was so much going on that I forgot about it.'

  Sharma said angrily, 'You should have remembered. It was important to me.'

  'Damn it, Sharma, it's only a bracelet, and a cheap one, at that! Why are you making such an almighty fuss about such a small thing?'

  Sharma glared at me and growled, 'It was important to Roda. You have caused her distress.'

  I muttered an apology through gritted teeth. Sharma glared at me again and stalked away -- to comfort the discomfited Roda, I supposed. I shook my head and thought morosely that while all of us were celebrating our victory over Vaxili, there was a woman not far away who was celebrating her victory over Sharma.

  Within a week, we met with a congregation of all the elders' councils in Lower Keirine to plan for the immediate future. Although the meeting decided to establish a protected border between Upper and Lower Keirine, at Sharma's insistence the delegates affirmed their allegiance to Vaxili as king. They also affirmed allegiance to the Kingdom of Keirine. The meeting appointed Sharma and me as commander and deputy commander of the army, respectively. Then we moved our main base to Orihedrin, a town that was centrally situated just north of the border with Upper Keirine. With the financial and material support that was channeled through the elders' councils, and by means of Durgenu's trade contacts, we were able to triple the size of our force as well as to outfit it adequately.

  This was a strange and paradoxical period. Lower Keirine had effectively seceded, virtually forming a state within a state, making laws, raising taxes, and maintaining an army, while at the same time it proclaimed its allegiance to the kingdom and to its ruler. While I thought that we should have seceded, Sharma always maintained that the arrangement was for the eventual good of the kingdom. He asked me, 'Do you remember how we sat on the hills outside Osicedi and talked about a prophecy of the oracle at Osighina?' I nodded. Sharma quoted the words: 'Keirine only shall be free, when land and people meet the sea' and then asked me gently, 'Do you still believe it to be true?'

  'I do.'

  Sharma said, 'Well, Jina, believe me, the prophecy will never be fulfilled unless we have a united kingdom of Keirine.'

  I asked sceptically, 'Do you think what we're doing now is going to serve the cause of the united kingdom?'

  Sharma said firmly, 'I do.' Quoting a well known proverb, he said, 'A path may wind, but its destination is fixed.'

  About a year later, something took place that straightened out the path and brought the destination much closer. Although it happened without warning and it was over within half an hour, it had a profound effect on the future. One day, at about noon, a procession consisting of twelve men riding on donkeys arrived at our headquarters in Orihedrin. In spite of the heat, five of the men were covered from head to foot in cloaks and
veils with only their eyes showing through narrow slits. They reminded me of the nomads of the dune desert in the distant west, except that the nomads rode camels, not plodding donkeys. The rest of the men in the party were servants and guards and were dressed more conventionally.

  While the veiled men dismounted, one of the servants hurried into the building. He returned within a few minutes and, after speaking deferentially to the men, escorted them inside. Fifteen minutes later, Sharma summoned me to the council chamber. When I entered the room, I was amazed to see Izebol there, dressed in his full regalia as high priest. He put out his hand and, as I kneeled and kissed his ring, he said, 'Ah! The honest Jina! You are still the scourge of your enemies, so I hear.'

  I murmured, 'Your honour, I do what I can.'

  He looked at me quizzically and asked, ‘And the scourge of the enemies of Keirine?’

  ‘I will always serve Keirine when I am able to, your honour.’

  Izebol pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes thoughtfully but said nothing. Then he put out his hand and raised me to my feet while looking at Sharma expectantly. Sharma said in an unsteady voice, 'Jina, I want you to serve as a witness.'

  'A witness? To what?'

  Izebol stepped forward, saying, 'You will see in a moment. But first, I want you to swear that you will never speak to anyone about what you witness here until the day that Vaxili dies. After that, you may speak about it freely. Are you prepared to swear to that?'

  'Your honour, I –'

  'Are you prepared to swear or should I find another witness? We don’t have time to waste.'

  'Yes, your honour. I will swear to it.'