The Blood-stained Belt (28 page)

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 base, 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.