The Blood-stained Belt (33 page)

'I can't say,
my lady.'

'Oh, come now,
Jina -- you're a man. Give me your opinion as a man.'

'I do not have
opinions on women's beauty.'

'No? You used
to have.'

'That was long
ago, my lady. Now I choose not to have opinions on such
matters.'

'Oh, Jina, you
can't forget Dana, can you?' When I didn't reply, Mecolo took my
hands and said, 'I can't forget her either.'

'Please, my
lady, I prefer not to speak about it.' I pushed her hands away,
saying, 'I must go now.'

Mecolo asked,
almost pleadingly, 'And Sharma --?'

'My lady,
Sharma will come to see you soon.'

As I left the
room, Mecolo called after me, 'Believe me, Jina, I wish that I
could follow your example. There are things that I should put
behind me as well.'

I walked over
to Sharma to tell him that Mecolo was settling into her quarters.
He was with Roda and it was clear that they were quarrelling.
Instead of greeting me, Roda tossed her head and turned away,
standing with her back rigidly against us. Sharma looked at her
angrily, took my arm, and walked me outside. I made my report,
Sharma thanked me tersely and I left him.

About one month
later, I was away leading the pursuit of an Usserdite raiding party
when Sharma and Jainar met again. This time, Jainar came to
Orihedrin where Sharma entertained him lavishly. I returned to
Orihedrin only a few hours after Jainar departed. I was furious
when I heard what had happened and demanded to see Sharma
immediately. Going straight to the point without ceremony, I said,
'So, once again, you timed your meeting with Jainar well!’

‘Calm down,
Jina! It was only arranged a few days ago. You were out of contact
and I couldn’t call you back in time.’

‘Oh, yes? Or
was it just very convenient?’

‘Don’t you
believe me, Jina?’

‘What should I
believe? This is the second time that it’s happened.’

Sharma waved my
objections away as if they were the buzzing of an annoying insect,
saying, ‘You can believe it or not, just as you choose.’

‘And I can go
to hell if I have any objections, eh?’

‘I said you may
believe it or not, just as you choose.’

‘What's more,
you had Jainar in your grasp and you let him go!'

Sharma face
tightened. He said stiffly, 'He came to negotiate. I gave him my
word that he would be safe.'

'Negotiate! He
came to buy time or to spy! You know that he can't be trusted.'

Sharma's eyes
narrowed. 'Up until now, he's delivered what he's promised. Why
shouldn't we trust him?'

I thought, what
has he delivered so far? Mecolo? Is that all? Well, Sharma, you
should know that there's a big difference between delivering a
woman, even if she is a princess, and delivering a kingdom. I
suppressed the words and replied, 'How do you know that he's not
playing a double game?'

Sharma thrust
his chin forward and wagged a finger at me, saying tersely, 'Have a
care, Jina. I am the king. You command the army and I decide on
policy.’

'By Zabrazal,
now I see it clearly! I am the king's loyal dog, to be sent here,
there, and everywhere, while the king entertains his favoured
guests at his table! And for me – '

'Have a care,
Jina! I tell you, man – have a care!'

I bit back my
reply, knowing that I had already pushed further than Sharma would
have tolerated from anyone else. I took a placatory course and
said, 'Sharma, it wounds me that you sent me away while you met
with Jainar. Is my advice so unreliable? Why do you exclude me when
matters of state are discussed?'

Sharma fingered
the neck of his cloak and looked away as if he didn’t have a ready
answer. After a pause, he said, 'I told you the truth when I said
that when you left, I didn't know that I was going to meet with
Jainar. The arrangements were made later.'

'But, damn it,
couldn't you have waited until I got back?'

'There's no
time to be lost, Jina. Matters are moving too quickly.' Sharma put
a hand on my shoulder. 'Jina, if you had been there, you would have
advised me to do exactly what I did.'

'Which is
--?'

'We decided
that Jainar would deliver Upper Keirine into our hands. Soon there
will be one Kingdom of Keirine again.'

'How soon?'

Sharma looked
me in the eye and said firmly, 'Very soon.'

‘And there will
be one king, by name of Sharma?’

‘Yes. That is
so.’

I said, 'Not
before time.'

'Good! We
agree.'

I said, 'But,
without Jainar, Upper Keirine would fall anyway.'

Sharma looked
at me thoughtfully. He scratched his chin and asked cautiously,
'Ah! And what of it?'

'If Upper
Keirine is ready to be delivered, then it's likely that Jainar is
superfluous.'

Still looking
at me thoughtfully, Sharma responded, 'Yes, that is possible.'

We stood there
facing each other, with thoughts between us that couldn't, or
wouldn't, be spoken. I decided to take the plunge on one of them
and said, 'The united kingdom should have only one supreme
commander of the army.'

Sharma stroked
his chin and looked at me shrewdly. He responded, 'Perhaps not.
Perhaps there could be a dual command.’

‘A dual
command!’

‘Yes. For
example, one general for the western sector and one for the eastern
sector.'

'One king and
two generals? That would be a happy state of affairs!'

Sharma was
still looking at me in the same appraising way, head to one side.
He said softly, 'Perhaps you are right. But, if not --' He
stopped.

I said, 'If
not, then perhaps Jainar is superfluous already.'

'Yes, Jina,
that could be so -- ordinarily.'

‘Ordinarily?’

‘Yes,
ordinarily. But these are extraordinary circumstances.’

‘How so?’

‘We will have
obligations to Jainar.’

‘Only because
that’s how he’s arranged things.’

Sharma looked
at me through narrowed eyes, pursing his lips. He said, ‘But if
Jainar is superfluous to the plan --?’

'Then, Sharma,
perhaps he's nothing more than an impediment even now.'

'Yes, perhaps
that's true. We will have to think about it.'

'Why think
about it? There’s no time like the present.'

Sharma moved
closer to me and said quietly, 'No time like the present, eh?
That’s true.' He put a hand on my shoulder and pressed it
firmly.

We shook hands
and I left without saying anything more. I knew what had to be
done.

Immediately, I
sent a message to Jainar in Sharma's name recalling him for further
discussions. When he arrived about two hours later, I met him at
the city gateway and took him aside, saying that I had a
confidential message from Sharma. Two of my men were waiting there.
They stepped forward and seized Jainar's arms, pinning them behind
his back. At the same time, I stabbed Jainar in the stomach,
twisting the blade and forcing it in right up to the hilt, while
the men held the squirming Jainar upright. Jainar died with the
third thrust but I stabbed him twice more, just to make sure.

I had avenged
the death of my brother and had also cleared the way for Sharma to
ascend to the throne that had been promised to him. What was more,
I had eliminated any possibility of dissension over the position of
army commander in the re-united Kingdom of Keirine. It was a good
day's work.

It was also
messy work. Jainar’s blood stained my tunic and even spattered over
my legs and sandals. As I was washing and changing my clothes, I
noticed that the blood had stained my belt. Although I soaped the
place and rubbed it vigorously with a towel, the outline of the
stain, ink-dark against the dark leather, never disappeared. While
I was cleaning the belt, I thought of Sharma saying to me many
years ago that I should wear the belt as a sign of our friendship.
Well, I thought, today I have done him a great service, much more
than even the closest bond of friendship would require.

I had played my
role and now it was up to Sharma to take centre stage. He didn't
wait long: within an hour, he called a meeting of his commanders.
He was looking composed and his voice was measured but knowing him
as well as I did, I could see that behind the veneer he was
simmering with excitement and anticipation. Why not? He had
traversed the difficult terrain of the escarpment and now the open,
uplands plain stretched before him. All he had to do was walk a few
more steps and he would attain his goal.

Sharma said,
'Jainar is dead. A great man of Keirine has passed away.’ He
cleared his throat, tightened his hands on the chair in front of
him, and pronounced firmly, ‘I had no hand in his death. Before
Zabrazal, I am innocent in this matter.' Then he said more than I
expected from him, and he said it with such vehemence that I was
taken aback. Sharma said, 'May the blood of Jainar fall upon the
house of Jina, and on the houses of those who assisted him, and on
their fathers’ houses even to the second and third
generations.'

There was a
stir around the table. Everyone expected Sharma to deny
responsibility for Jainar's death – that was routine -- but no one
expected him to curse the perpetrators and, what's more, to curse
us so roundly and so thoroughly. I was startled and I was angry. I
had been prepared to sit through a ritual denial but to be cursed
publicly was humiliating and undeserved. I started to rise to
protest but, in the face of the pensive silence around the table
and Sharma’s tight-mouthed determination, I thought better of it
and slumped back into my chair.

Sharma caught
my eye. He held it only for a moment before he dropped his gaze. In
that moment, I saw acknowledgement of our complicity. But I also
saw anger -- and that I didn't expect. Was Sharma trying to
convince himself that I had talked him into doing something that he
didn't want to do? Was he trying to convince himself that he really
was innocent?

Sharma
collected himself and said evenly, 'We will bury Jainar this
afternoon. I expect every commander to be present.' He looked at me
stonily and repeated, 'Every commander will be present.' He paused
and then said firmly, 'We will offer the respect that the death of
a great man deserves. Rend your clothes and walk bare-footed before
the body. All of Keirine must see how we honour one of the nation's
great men.'

Sharma led the
mourning procession and put on a good show, walking before the body
with the rest of us and prostrating himself, weeping, over the
grave. He also sang an improvised song of lament at the graveside.
I looked on, feeling both moved and sceptical. Sharma was good at
this sort of thing. He reveled in public performances and knew how
to catch the popular mood – in fact, he knew how to work it up, how
to bring emotions to fever pitch, and how to sustain them there.
Today Sharma was acting the role of the populist, aflame with the
mood of the people. But it was more than just an act – or, rather,
it was a piece of inspired drama. The poet inside Sharma took flame
on occasions like this and his spirit soared, just as it did with
the bards and the prophets.

Mecolo also
took part in the funeral procession, weeping and lamenting. Was she
really weeping for Jainar who, after all, had never been anything
special to her? Or was she weeping for a death that reminded her of
a vanished time when she had been confident, bold, and headstrong,
a princess in the house of her father, the king?

All through
that afternoon, Sharma's denunciation rankled with me. Finally,
even although it was late evening, I walked to his quarters to
remonstrate with him. However, as I reached his door I turned back,
thinking that it would do no good to speak to him while he was in
this mood. I returned to my rooms and sat there alone, thinking
with bitter melancholy about the people who could have advised and
supported me at this time. Dana was dead and so was Abozi. Only
Sharma remained of those who I had counted as friends and comrades
– and right now there was a fissure of complicity and denial
between us.

For the first
time in years, I ordered a flagon of wine. As I sat there sipping
at the cup, I consoled myself by remembering how, after Izebol
visited him, Sharma said to me, 'I need you. More than anyone, I
need you.' Now, as he entered into new territory, surrounded by
ambitions, suspicions and intrigues, he would need me more than
ever. I sipped at the cup again and thought yes, these things will
pass, and Sharma will need me more than ever.

On an impulse –
probably wine--induced ---- I took off my belt, folded it neatly,
and gave it to an attendant. I said, ‘See that it is given to the
king immediately.’

‘Is there a
message, sir?’

‘No. The king
will know what it means.’

Although I knew
that I had done the right thing for the Kingdom of Keirine, I
couldn't help thinking about Jainar. My mind replayed the moment of
Jainar's death – that moment when he gasped at me, 'Jina, you will
never rest in peace' just before I plunged the dagger into his
writhing body for the third time. Yes, that's what he said. But
what did he know about peace, this man who never lifted a finger
when my comrades and I were in prison, this man who ordered us to
massacre civilians, this man who killed my brother, this man who
helped the usurper to stay on his throne? I tried to drive his
words out of my mind even as they returned to me time and again. I
told myself to forget about his words and to forget about the
subsiding gurgle that he produced as he slumped in death. I knew
that I had done the right thing. I had avenged the death of my
brother and had cleared the way for the kingdom to be re-united.
With Jainar alive, the task of building a peaceful and united
Keirine would have been more difficult; now it was simple and
straight-forward. What was more important than that? I shrugged,
left the cup and the flagon where they were, and went to bed. I
hoped desperately for a dreamless sleep, unlikely as it was.