The Blood-stained Belt (34 page)

The next
morning, my belt was returned to me. It had been polished and was
shining with a deep lustre. With it was a note in Sharma’s
handwriting that read, ‘Now as always, wear it as a sign of our
friendship.’ As I turned the belt around, wondering what to do, I
noticed again that the stain was still visible in spite of all the
polishing, buffing, and rubbing. It reminded me of how much bound
Sharma and me together. What looked like a fissure from one point
of view, from another point of view looked like two crags that were
united by bedrock at their base. I shrugged off my anger and
buckled the belt around my waist. There was still work to do and
there were still slopes to be climbed.

The next time I
saw Sharma, his eyes flickered to my waist and he gave a brief nod
of acknowledgement.

Within a few
weeks, Upper Keirine fell into Sharma's hands without us having to
do anything more than make a few surreptitious payments to members
of the royal court. When the kingdom began to topple, there was no
one to rally the army. In fact, there was no army at all. It melted
away after Jainar’s death. Abandoned by his soldiers and then by
his courtiers, Aebrel fled to Asjolorm, the nearest Dornite city.
With him went five wives, seven concubines, more than twenty
retainers and a line of donkeys bearing the royal valuables. Only
the wives and the concubines reached Asjolorm alive – and they
entered the city as captives, lashed to their own donkeys. Aebrel
and the rest of his party were murdered along the way and the
caravan was looted. It was said that the thieves and murderers were
more than just ordinary criminals. Perhaps it was true. Perhaps the
Dornites decided to do away with Aebrel when they recognised that
he was a spent force who had no value at all, not even as a
nuisance factor. Who knew the truth? Anyway, who cared?

Sharma’s
victory was complete. Once again, as we climbed more rungs on the
ladder, we were bound together by the heady experience of success.
However, there was also a new bond between Sharma and me. Now we
were also bound by the complicity of guilt. Although we didn’t
think about it at the time, from now onwards the linked
trajectories of our lives would no longer be so straight and
uncomplicated. However, the fault-lines didn’t show at first, in
those heady days of our ascent to power over the whole Kingdom of
Keirine.

CHAPTER
TWENTY: THE PRICE

I entered the
room just as Roda gave Mecolo such a shove that she hurtled back
against the wall, thumping into it with a sound like a sack of
grain hitting the floorboards of a wagon. Roda didn't leave it
there – she was onto Mecolo immediately, slapping, spitting, and
cursing. Sharma got between them, shoving them apart, yelling at
them to quit or he would have them confined to their rooms.

I stood there
embarrassed, not sure what to do. Come over to my quarters for a
quiet evening, said Sharma. Come over and we can relax for a while
just like we used to do in the old days. God, Jina, do you remember
how it used to be, sitting on top of a ridge, spinning the webs of
our dreams, lying back in the grass and assuring ourselves that
whatever the future held it was going to be good? And now – well,
just look at us now. What's happened to us since Orihedrin? Where
has the time gone? Councils, stratagems, diplomacy, sitting in
judgement, logistics, and goodwill visits – well, that's the way of
the kingdom and it's the price we have to pay for getting what we
wanted, isn't it, old friend? Anyway, forget about all that, and
come over for a quiet evening.

As he held Roda
and Mecolo apart and yelled at them, Sharma suddenly caught sight
of me, standing there like a frog that thought it was about to
slide into a cosy pond and instead found itself on the edge of a
boiling cauldron. Sharma bit his lip and squeezed the shoulders
that he was holding so hard that both Roda and Mecolo shrieked in
pain. He hissed, 'Quiet! We have company.' He thrust the women
apart, turned to me, adjusted his robe, and said as civilly as he
could in the midst of his roused emotions, 'Jina! I wasn't
expecting you so early. Come inside.'

'Perhaps if I
came back later –'

'No, no, by no
means. Come in and sit down.' Sharma motioned me to a chair by the
fire. I settled in while Sharma went around behind the chair and
talked to the women in low tones. I heard Roda's voice raised in
protest, saying, 'I will not stand for this woman and her –',
followed by Sharma hissing, 'Enough! You will not say another word
or I will have you confined to your room. Understand?' There was
silence and then I heard the women walking out of the room. The
footsteps were short, swift, and hard-heeled.

Sharma sat
down, raised his eyebrows at me, and rang a bell. A servant
appeared with a flagon of wine and two mugs, poured wine for each
of us, and withdrew. Sharma raised his mug, looked at me over the
rim and took a deep pull at his drink. Then, cradling the mug, he
said, 'Welcome, Jina.' I raised my mug and sipped at the wine,
trying to look as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
Except for the twitching of his left eyelid, to outward appearances
Sharma had regained control of his emotions. However, he sat
forward in his chair, head slightly to one side, as if he was
tensed to spring at any new disturbance.

I sipped again
and said as easily as I could, 'It's good to be here.'

Sharma nodded
and took another deep pull at his drink. He wiped his mouth with
the back of his hand, sighed heavily and refilled his mug. Then he
raised the flagon and looked at me enquiringly. I said, 'Not yet,
thanks. I'm still busy with this one.'

Sharma said,
'You drink slowly, Jina. It's not companionable.' He took another
deep pull at his mug.

I replied, 'Oh,
you know me, Sharma. I'm a slow starter. But I'm like the last
sheep in the flock -- I always get into the pen before the gate
closes for the night.' Privately, I thought that this wasn't the
first time that I'd seen Sharma drinking quick and deep. When did
it start? I couldn't remember him drinking at all when we were
outlaws together in the desert. Nor could I remember him drinking
much during our early days in Orihedrin. Thinking back, I reckoned
that he must have started his drinking towards the end of our time
in Orihedrin not long before he ascended to the throne.

Sharma leaned
forward, the yellow flecks in his eyes glinting. He said, 'Well,
Jina, it's good to have you here. Just the two of us, eh?'

I raised my mug
and said, 'Times change but friendship doesn't.'

Sharma grunted
in acknowledgement, took another long pull at his mug and refilled
it. He sat back, raised an eyebrow, and said, 'When land and people
reach the sea, eh, Jina?' I looked at him quizzically. Sharma
asked, 'How far do we push the Dornites?'

'Push them?
Man, Sharma, in case you haven't noticed we haven't even got them
out of Keirine yet.'

Sharma waved a
hand half in amusement and half in irritation. 'Jina, Jina, you
always were the cautious one.' He settled back with his mug held
against his chest and asked, 'Do you doubt that we'll push them
back over the escarpment within a few months?'

'Doubt it? Of
course I doubt it. I doubt the outcome of every battle and every
campaign until we've got the enemy on the run. Then, when I see
their backsides retreating at a fast pace, I stop doubting – for a
little while at least.'

Sharma
chuckled. 'Maybe you've been doubting a little bit less during
these last few weeks, eh?'

Sharma had
reason to be confident. Although we hadn't defeated the Dornites,
we were closing the noose on them. When Sharma was crowned King of
Keirine, the Dornites not only occupied a sizeable piece of Upper
Keirine but were also exacting tribute in lieu of seizing more
land. It was the arrangement that they enjoyed when the weak-kneed
Aebrel was on the throne and it was the way in which they intended
that things should continue. Just to make sure that there wasn't
any misunderstanding about their intentions, the Dornites didn't
wait for Sharma to settle in. Before he had even been crowned, a
Dornite army advanced from the south, burning and looting as it
came. Fortunately, we were able to hold them to a stalemate during
a day-long battle. However, although there was not a clear victor,
it was a moral victory for us. For the first time since Vaxili's
last years on the throne, a Dornite army had been halted.

We didn't wait
for the Dornites to regroup. Using the experience that we gained in
the desert, I began mobilising the inhabitants of the occupied
territory to harass the Dornites. Soon the countryside was so
unsafe for their forces that they had to travel in large numbers or
not travel at all. More than that, we eliminated the profits of
their occupation by capturing traders and caravans. The Dornites
were forced to protect themselves by retreating behind fortified
positions in the occupied towns and by going to the trouble and
expense of sending out large caravans under heavy guard. The
occupation of Upper Keirine was becoming an expensive and
troublesome business for the Dornites.

Sharma leaned
back in his chair and said in a relaxed voice, 'We've forced them
onto the back foot, Jina. Now we have to put a wedge between their
garrisons and their heartland.'

'Easier said
than done, I would think.'

Sharma ran a
finger around the edge of his mug and said thoughtfully, 'Another
attack on Asjolorm, perhaps?' I raised my eyebrows at him. Sharma
continued, 'Why don't we tackle them on two fronts? We could
destroy Asjolorm and cut their supply lines while we take on their
garrisons one by one.'

'It might
work.'

'Think about
it, Jina.' Sharma waved his mug at me unsteadily. 'We'll talk about
it tomorrow, eh? No more business talk tonight. All right?'

Some time
during the evening, Sharma picked up a small bag and took out a
sling. Then he shook out some pebbles from the bag and asked, 'How
about it, Jina? Are you still up to it?'

'In here?'

'Why not? Isn't
the king allowed to have some fun?' Sharma waved a hand around
airily. 'The king proposes and the king disposes, not so?' He rang
a bell and a servant came in with a bucket, draped a blanket over a
sideboard, and ranged the contents of the bucket on top. I went
over to have a look at the objects that were standing on the
sideboard. There were seven short pieces of wood, planed and
varnished, the thickness of two fingers, and mounted on small
bases. The targets were pitted all over, testifying to how often
they had been used.

I said, 'You
are well prepared.'

Sharma gave me
a slow smile and replied, 'The king should always be prepared.' He
stood back, crouched, whirled the sling, and let fly. The pebble
missed its target and clattered against the stone wall behind the
sideboard. Sharma cursed, drank some wine, took aim again, and let
fly. This time he hit the target. At the end of the round, he had
hit five out of the seven targets. Sharma tossed the sling to me,
saying, 'Your turn now.'

'I'm not in
practice. I won't be much good.'

Sharma grunted.
'Huh! That's what you always used to say and you were always better
than you claimed.'

I replied, 'But
never as good as you.' In the event, I surprised myself by hitting
three of the first four targets at which I aimed. Opting for
caution, I deliberately missed one of the last three targets.
Sharma grinned at me, raised his mug in salute, and said, 'It's a
tie! Hail to the general.'

Later, we had a
few more rounds with the sling. Watching Sharma crouch, eyes
narrowed, balanced on the balls of his feet, the years fell away
and I glimpsed the youthful Sharma out on the hillside taking aim
at targets placed on top of a rock. I said something like that to
Sharma. He responded by grunting and letting fly with such force
that the pebble sliced a sliver off the target and then shattered
against the wall.

Surprisingly,
in spite of the wine, Sharma's aim improved until during his last
round he hit six out of seven targets. Still cautious, I made sure
that I never exceeded his score in any round. Afterwards, Sharma
lay back in his chair and started to talk about the days when we
roamed the hills looking after the sheep. He concluded by saying,
'When land and people reach the sea, eh?' He tossed the sling in
the palm of his hand, looked at it pensively, and asked, 'Are we
safe now, Jina?'

'Not as safe as
we should be but safer than we ever have been.'

Sharma grunted,
'Huh! Maybe that's true. But there's one enemy that's always with
us, always working to destroy us. Do you know what that is, eh?' I
shook my head. Sharma looked at me with half-closed eyes and said,
'Complacency, Jina, complacency! That's the enemy that's always at
the gates.'

It was after
midnight when we parted. Sharma was drunk and I had imbibed enough
to fear that I might have a sore head in the morning. I hated
having a muzzy head. I shook my head in a vain attempt to clear it
and started to walk across the courtyard. Suddenly, I felt a light
touch on my arm. A voice hissed, 'Jina!' I turned and peered at the
hooded figure standing next to me. It was Mecolo. She put a finger
over my lips, took my arm, led me to a corner of the courtyard and
opened a door. Inside, Mecolo threw back the hood. By the light of
the lamps, I could see that her eyes were red and her expression
was strained.

Mecolo said in
a tight voice, 'I need to talk to you, Jina.'

'It's late, my
lady.'

'It'll only
take a few minutes.' She put a hand on my arm. 'Please – only a few
minutes?' I nodded and she pointed to a chair by the table. Mecolo
sat down across the corner from me leaning forward with folded
arms. She forced a smile and asked, 'How are you, Jina?'