Free The Blood-stained Belt by Brian H Jones

question was
about the best that I could do.
    ‘My mother died
last year. I live with my father. He’s the chief cook to the royal
court.’
    I said, ‘Ah!’
and hoped that it sounded profound.
    Dana moved away
from me. Then she stopped and said, ‘I have enjoyed meeting
you.’
    ‘Could we – ah
– you know –?
    ‘Yes?’
    I blurted,
‘Meet again?’
    ‘Meet again?
You mean could we meet again?’
    ‘Yes.’
    Dana pursed her
lips and looked at me shrewdly. Then she chuckled and asked, ‘Would
you like that?’
    I gulped,
‘Yes.’ Was my voice as high-pitched as it sounded?
    ‘Yes, I suppose
that we could.’
    ‘At your home,
perhaps?’
    She frowned,
considered the matter, and replied with a mixture of seriousness
and knowing humour, ‘No. That isn’t possible. My father is very
possessive. The last man who tried to visit me at the house nearly
came to a bad end.'
    'Really?
How?'
    'My father
threatened to boil him alive in cooking oil.’
    'Really? Boil
him alive? He would do that?'
    Dana gave me a
wondering look and then giggled. 'Who knows? He might. He is very
possessive.' She giggled again, wrinkled her nose and asked, ‘Will
you be at the temple tomorrow?’
    ‘I could be, if
you’ll be there.’
    ‘Well, if you
are there –‘
    ‘I will be
there. For sure, I’ll be there.’
    ‘Good. Then
we’ll probably see each other.’ Dana nodded and walked away. After
a few steps, she turned and said with a straight face, ‘I hope that
your back is feeling better tomorrow.’
    As she
disappeared around the corner, I was torn by emotions. Mostly, I
wanted to shout out to the world, 'Can you believe it! I'm going to
see her tomorrow. How's that for luck?' On the other hand, I wanted
to crawl into a dark place and kick myself for being such a
graceless fool.
    I met Dana at
the temple next day and for a number of days after that until there
was no need of a pretext for meeting.
    One afternoon
we strolled away from the town. Following the road southwards
through the foothills, we wandered through open countryside. It was
a quiet spring day, warm in the direct sunlight, with the air so
still that the sounds from the town drifted to us as if the houses
were no more than a few paces behind us. I reached for Dana’s hand,
taking her nearest finger awkwardly. She gave me a swift look like
a deer startled while grazing but she didn’t withdraw her hand.
    We walked
hand-in-hand for a while, not saying anything, absorbed in this new
intimacy. Then we sat down half way up a hillside, ensconced in the
green folds of the slope and looking down over the red-dirt road
that slashed its way across the bottom of the valley. Dana sighed
happily and lay back with her hands under her head. I looked at the
form of her body that was outlined under the fabric of her tunic.
She stretched her arms above her head and the cloth pulled tighter
across her breasts. I looked away, not wanting to stare at what I
desired.
    Dana laughed
lightly and asked, ‘Do you like me, Jina?’ She gave me her quick,
half--knowing, half--humorous glance and then dropped her gaze.
    I mumbled,
‘Yes, of course.’
    ‘Then why won’t
you look at me?’
    My throat
constricted and my hands grew clammier. I mumbled, ‘I thought you
wouldn’t like it.’
    ‘Oh, Jina! Is
that true? Really?’
    I mumbled,
‘Yes.’
    Dana started to
laugh. She sat up, hugging her legs with her chin resting on her
knees. Then she glanced at me out of the corners of her eyes and
laughed some more. When she stopped laughing, she said, ‘Oh, Jina
–‘She couldn’t say any more because she started to giggle.
    I muttered,
‘Hey, what’s the joke?’
    Between
giggles, Dana said, ‘You are amusing.’
    ‘No, I’m
not.’
    ‘Oh, Jina,
don’t get so upset. You make me happy.’
    I said, ‘I’ll
tell you what, Dana. If anyone else called me amusing –’
    ‘Yes?’
    ‘I'd settle
with them. They wouldn’t do it again, that’s for sure.’
    ‘Are you going
to