The Blood-stained Belt (18 page)

We got back to
our camp just before sunrise, went through a debriefing session,
and then collapsed onto our cots. However, in spite of being
exhausted, at first I couldn't go to sleep. My mind was full of
images of the slaughter outside the gates of Asjolorm. Then, when I
did drop off to sleep, I dreamed about Dana. I dreamed that she was
lying with me on the hillside near Koraina where we watched the
clouds drifting across the sky. The dream was so vivid that I could
hear Dana's voice saying that the clouds asked the questions. Then
I imagined that she caressed and welcomed me tenderly as her lover.
I dreamed that, with my eyes closed in ecstatic expectation of
reaching my goal at last, I prepared to enter and possess her warm
sweetness. As I entered her, I dreamed that she shuddered and
gasped not as a lover but as someone in the throes of terrible
pain. I opened my eyes and saw that she lay beneath me with staring
eyes, with head lolling, and with her throat cut. I awoke to the
sound of my own cry and didn't dare to sleep again.

CHAPTER
ELEVEN: ZABRAZAL’S BLESSING

The attack was
successful beyond our greatest expectations. The city of Asjolorm
burned out completely and nothing but an empty husk remained.
Hundreds of houses were destroyed. The governor’s precinct was a
soot-streaked ruin, the oil and grain storehouses were reduced to
nothing but ashes and shattered jars, while the armoury collapsed
into a mound of shattered masonry and molten metal. All in all, it
was a major victory that was gained at literally no cost to our own
force. Moreover, at last the fight had been taken to the enemy.
Ever since the Dornites established themselves on the coastal plain
about two hundred years earlier, they had been the aggressors,
raiding our flocks, pillaging our towns and villages, carrying off
captives and seizing our territory. Now for the first time we had
turned the tables on them.

A few days
later Vaxili summoned Sharma and me to his headquarters. As we
waited in an antechamber, I looked around curiously. The room had
bare, whitewashed walls and a low wooden ceiling. It was sparsely
furnished, containing only a bench, a few straight-backed chairs
and a table haphazardly strewn with stacks of parchments and folded
military cloaks. It was not at all what I expected to find in royal
precincts. I asked Sharma in a low voice, ‘Is this the palace?’

Sharma looked
at me in amusement and relied, ‘Palace? No, this is just a house
that Vaxili has converted for use as his headquarters.'

'Where does he
live?'

Sharma jerked a
thumb over his shoulder. 'He lives in a house next door.’ He gave
me another amused look and commented, ‘It’s in better condition
than this one – a lot better by far. But don't think that Vaxili is
going to be satisfied with living in converted accommodation for
long.'

'He has
something else in mind, does he?'

'For sure!
What’s the use of being king if you live in a bunch of converted
houses, eh?’

‘So --?’

‘So he's going
to build a palace in his home village. He's already commissioned
architects from Kitilat to draft the plans.'

'Why there?
It's out of the way. It's not the place for the capital of
Keirine.'

Sharma shrugged
phlegmatically and answered, 'It's where Vaxili feels at home.'

‘What about
Mecolo?’

‘Mecolo? What
about her?’

I asked, ‘Where
does Mecolo feel at home?’

In reply,
Sharma glared at me and clammed up so hard that I could feel the
tautness radiating over me like a wave of heat from an oven door.
We sat there in uncomfortable silence, listening to the
subterranean rumblings of our unresolved disagreement. In the
silence, from behind the inner door we could hear the sound of
heated conversation. I could pick out the voices of Vaxili and
Jainar as well as another voice that I knew I should recognise but
just couldn’t place. Sharma cocked his head and said sardonically.
‘It sounds like Zabrazal’s messenger isn’t as happy with Vaxili as
he might be.’

I listened more
closely. Sharma was right: it was Izebol's voice.

The thickness
of the door prevented us from hearing clearly even although we sat
in silence trying to hear what was being said while pretending to
ignore the altercation. Then suddenly the door burst open and
Izebol stormed out, followed by a younger priest. We jerked
backwards, trying to look innocent and unconcerned. However, we
might as well not have bothered because Izebol stalked across the
room, ignoring us. Only when his companion touched his arm and
cocked his head towards us did Izebol stop, glower at us, and then
bark, ‘You! Are you Sharma?’

Sharma got to
his feet, saying, ‘Yes, your honour, I am Sharma.’

‘And you? Who
are you?’

‘I am Jina,
your honour.’

‘Ah, yes,
Sharma and Jina.’ Izebol frowned and looked at us narrowly. Then he
put out his hand to us and we kneeled and kissed it. Izebol said,
‘Sharma and Jina who brought back the head of Drunuk, eh?’

‘Yes, your
honour.’

‘And the same
Sharma and Jina who rescued Lady Mecolo from the Usserdite
abductors, eh?’

‘Yes, your
honour.’

Izebol took a
step forward and studied us so closely that I felt as if I was
being inspected on a parade ground. After a lengthy scrutiny he
suddenly barked, ‘You had something to do with Asjolorm, I
hear?’

‘Yes, your
honour.’

‘How much, eh?
How much?’

Sharma said,
‘Well, your honour, we just suggested –‘

‘You just
suggested the whole plan, not so?’ Izebol thrust a finger at me and
demanded, ‘You! What did you have to do with it?’

‘Your honour,
Sharma discussed his plan with me and I –‘

Izebol grunted
knowingly and silenced me with a wave. Still scrutinising us, he
asked, ‘Are you servants of Zabrazal?'

'Servants, your
honour?'

'Yes! Servants!
Servants of the one true god! Are you dedicated to his
service?’

‘Yes, your
honour. We are servants of Zabrazal, your honour.’

Izebol wagged a
finger at us and said severely, ‘Serve your god in your youth and
you will be rewarded throughout your life. Do you believe
that?’

‘Yes, your
honour.’ I replied fervently, hoping that Izebol would believe me
and hoping that it was true. Sharma just gave an affirmative
nod.

Izebol relaxed
a little, waggled a half-friendly finger at us, and said, ‘You are
favoured by Zabrazal.’

‘You
honour?’

‘It is as clear
as it can be. Do you think that you would have enjoyed such success
without the blessing of Zabrazal?’

We shook our
heads vigorously and I thought, Well, that’s good news. If
Zabrazal’s chief representative says it, then it’s probably true in
fact, it's almost as good as getting it from the horse’s mouth, so
to speak. Then Izebol's mouth tightened and he interrupted my
thoughts by growling, ‘But as for your commanders – did they
consult the omens? Did they consult the priests of Zabrazal?’ He
glared at us. ‘Well, did they?’

‘We don’t know,
your honour.’

‘You don’t
know! Of course you don’t know! You don’t know because they only
consulted themselves and their own desires!’ Izebol snorted and
lowered his voice. ‘But as for you -- you were fortunate. Zabrazal
blessed your ventures in spite of the negligence of your
commanders.’ He straightened and gestured towards the inner door,
saying, ‘Vaxili and Jainar know my mind on this matter.’ Izebol
glared at the door, looked at us in a half-speculative and
half-approving manner, nodded regally and swept out of the
room.

We settled
back, waiting to be called into the inner sanctum. However, before
that happened, Mecolo entered through the outer door. Although she
pretended to be surprised to see us, she wasn’t a good actor. It
was plain to see that she knew very well that we were there. Mecolo
shot a cautious look at the inner door, fingered the neckline of
her gown nervously, and said with feigned innocence, ‘Sharma and
Jina! What are you doing here?’

We rose to
greet her. Sharma bowed slightly -- it was so studied that it was
familiar rather than formal -- and said, ‘We are waiting to see
your father, Lady Mecolo.’

‘About
what?’

‘Something to
do with Asjolorm, or so we were told.’

‘Asjolorm? Is
that the Dornite city that was destroyed?’

Sharma bowed
again and said, ‘The same, Lady Mecolo.’

She gestured to
us to be seated while she remained standing, looking hesitant and
apprehensive. First she snatched at an invisible thread in the
waist-line of her gown and then she flicked repeatedly at an
imaginary speck on her sleeve. Next she sat down on the edge of a
chair, hands clenched tightly in her lap, and said brightly,
‘Sharma and Jina! What a pleasant surprise! I haven’t seen you for
such a long time.’

Sharma said
smoothly, ‘And we are the poorer for it, Lady Mecolo.’

She lowered her
eyes and replied, ‘So are we.’ She started to say something,
stopped, and then asked hesitantly, 'How long will you be in
Koraina?'

Sharma replied,
'Until tomorrow morning at least, my lady.'

‘And when did
you arrive?’

‘Hardly half an
hour ago.’

‘Ah! So you
haven’t had time to make any social calls?’

‘Not yet, my
lady. But of course we will.’

Their eyes met.
Mecolo said, 'Then perhaps we will see each other again before you
leave?' Sharma nodded and gave her a deep look. Mecolo's eyes
glowed before she said, ‘That’s good.’ Then, still keeping up the
bright facade, she asked, ‘And how have you been, Sharma?’

Sharma replied,
‘Life has been very dull without you and the ladies of Koraina, my
lady.’

Mecolo stood
up, smoothed her gown over her hips, and flicked her tongue over
her lips like a lizard testing the atmosphere before making its
next move. Then, apparently satisfied with what she had found, she
moved to stand halfway behind Sharma. She put her hand on his
chair, just behind his shoulder, leaned forward and asked, ‘But,
Sharma, when you are so occupied with warlike and heroic deeds,
surely you hardly miss the ladies?’

Mecolo was
standing where I could get a good look her. A look? In fact, she
was so absorbed in her duet with Sharma that I could have stared at
her as intensely and for as long as I wanted. By Zabrazal, but she
was dolled up to the nines and carrying it off with style as well.
She was wearing a soft lime-green gown that folded around her so
lightly that she looked to be all fragility and vulnerability. The
low-cut bodice was gathered under her bust so that there was plenty
more to see than just a hint of the smooth flesh of her breasts
when she leaned forward. That alone was enough to attract my
attention, producing a distant ache that, even while I tried to
suppress it, recalled someone else in another setting. Mecolo was a
good-looking young woman – far above the average, I had to admit –
who knew how to arrange and display herself to the very best
effect. On top of that, she carried with her the seductiveness of
association with power and position.

Sharma glanced
upwards over his shoulder and said with studied impassivity, ‘Why,
Lady Mecolo, when the ladies are as beautiful as you nothing on
earth could make any soldier of Keirine forget them. Our deeds are
inspired by the beauty of the maidens of Keirine.’ He paused and
then said meaningfully, ‘And especially the maidens of Koraina, who
are nearest to our hearts.’

Mecolo pulled
up a chair and sat down with her knees almost touching Sharma’s.
Even at a distance, I could smell her perfume. Under the musky
pungency, it carried the hint of the fresh warmth of her body.
Mecolo demanded, ‘Tell me about Asjolorm.’

Sharma said
nonchalantly, ‘Asjolorm? It was destroyed by fire. There’s nothing
much to tell.’

‘Oh, Sharma,
don’t be so modest! I hear that you had a lot to do with what
happened there.’

Sharma looked
pleased but tried to hide it with a negligent shrug. He replied,
‘No single person can take the credit. Most of the men in our unit
were involved in the attack.’

‘And you were
just one of the many?’ Mecolo looked at me and asked archly, ‘Jina,
isn’t he modest? Perhaps you can tell me what happened.’

I said, ‘Lady
Mecolo, we burned the city to the ground and we slaughtered a lot
of people when they tried to escape. We slaughtered women and
children along with the men. We slaughtered old people and we
slaughtered babies. Then when things started to get too hot for
comfort we got out of there fast. Like all good soldiers, we wanted
to preserve our lives and limbs for the next battle. That’s what
happened.’

Mecolo bit her
lip and sat back stiffly with her hands in her lap. I had rebuffed
her but I didn’t care. Once, not so long ago, I could have enjoyed
these flirtatious approach-and-retreat, double-meaning games. With
Dana, they had excited me. With Dana, they were steps in an
exhilarating and intriguing dance. Now they irritated me. More than
that, nowadays they reminded me of what I was trying to leave
behind in the pit of oblivion.

Sharma tried to
rescue the situation by saying quickly, ‘It’s true that Jina and I
were involved right from the beginning.’

‘Oh? How? Do
tell me.’

Sharma had just
begun telling the story when the inner door opened and Jainar
appeared. We stood up and saluted but he frowned and looked past
us, saying severely, ‘Lady Mecolo, I did not expect to see you
here.’

Mecolo’s eyes
flickered warily but she maintained her composure and replied, ‘I
was hoping to see my father.’

‘At this hour
of the day, Lady Mecolo? Your father has his duties, you know.’

Mecolo wrinkled
her nose and shrugged in studied indifference. ‘Then perhaps I
won’t see him now, if he’s busy. Perhaps I'll call on him
later’