The Blood-stained Belt by Brian H Jones

few
minutes of silence, Dana said slowly, 'Every day I hear more
questions. Sometimes I think I'm moving towards some of the answers
and sometimes I think it's hopeless.' She shrugged.
    'What sorts of
questions?'
    'Oh, I don't
know. They come and go. But mostly I think, Is this really all that
there is to life? Violence and sharpening swords, plotting the
destruction of the Dornites, squeezing the life out of anything
that doesn't fit with their four-walled, small-minded pattern of
the once-and-to-be Kingdom of Keirine, jostling to get near the
forage bin – is that all there is?' Dana squeezed my hand and asked
gently, 'Don't you sometimes feel the same, Jina?'
    Did I, Jina,
soldier of Keirine, feel the same? I knew what I should say. In
fact, I almost said it. But then, from an impulse deep inside me, I
spoke the truth. I said, 'Yes. Sometimes.'
    Dana sighed,
settled back, closed her eyes, and said nothing. Then, after a long
silence, she said, 'I love the clouds for asking the questions.
Every day, I think, Thank you for the questions, because I know
that I'm alive as long as I'm hearing them. I think, Some day I'll
find the answers. In the meantime, I want to keep walking the road,
following the clouds.' She squeezed my hand and said, 'I talk a
lot, don't I?'
    I squeezed her
hand in return and said nothing.
    We lay there
holding hands, sometimes dozing, sometimes watching the clouds as
they asked the questions and took the answers with them to the far
horizons. Then Dana propped herself up onto her elbows and looked
out across the valley. From my reclining position, I gazed up at
her. The shape of her breasts against the pull of her tunic, her
neck arched backwards, her hair flowing freely – the lightning
flickered again under my skin, my blood thumped, and my throat
contracted. I took a deep, deep breath.
    Dana looked at
me sidelong. Her eyes were serious but she was smiling
mischievously. She got to her feet, smoothed down her tunic, and
said, 'I guess it’s time to go.’
    I put an urgent
hand on her arm and said, ‘No. Stay here a bit longer.’
    ‘Oh?’
    ‘Yes. I want to
look at you some more.’ I was surprised at my own forwardness.
    ‘Oh? Some
more?’
    ‘Yes. I want to
touch you.’
    Dana tossed
back her hair and put her hands on her hips. She said, ‘I told you,
Jina, good things come to those who wait.’
    I cried in real
frustration, ‘I don’t want to wait.’
    ‘You’ll have
to.’ She stretched out her hand. ‘Come on, be a good boy. It’s time
to go.’
    As we walked
along the road towards the town, Dana asked, ‘Do you know Sharma
well?’
    ‘Sharma? Yes,
of course. He’s been my friend ever since we were at school
together.’
    ‘Is he a good
friend?’
    ‘He's my best
friend.’ Warning beacons flickered and I asked, ‘Why do you want to
know?’
    ‘Oh, nothing. I
was just asking.’ I looked at Dana suspiciously but she ducked her
head. She let go of my hand and we walked in silence until we
turned a corner in the road and saw the town in front of us. Then
Dana stopped, faced me, and said, ‘The fact is, I know someone who
wants to meet Sharma.’
    I flared with
suspicion and jealousy. I wanted to ask, Are you the one who wants
to meet Sharma? Did you get to know me just so that you could meet
Sharma? The thought was so crude and visceral that it shocked me.
But I couldn't drive it from my mind. Dana must have seen what I
was thinking because she dropped her head and stood there
awkwardly. I fought down the insidious thoughts and asked, ‘Who
wants to meet Sharma?’
    Dana said, ‘I
can’t tell you.’
    ‘Man or
woman?’
    ‘A woman.’
    ‘So you want me
to arrange a meeting with this mysterious lady
I-can’t-tell-you-her-name – just like that, sight unseen?’
    Dana shifted
uncomfortably and said, ‘Yes.’ Then she looked straight at me and
said, ‘It’s not for me, Jina. It’s for my friend. It really
is.’
    ‘Oh, yes? Is
that so? Just so secret – and so