Andreuz

Paidos, Andiol Empire

The stands surrounding the Great Arena were packed with townspeople. It was as if all of Paidos had come out to celebrate an official holiday.

Dozens of yellow-red flags of Andiol were hoisted above the stands, fluttering proudly in honour of the day whenever wind caught them. The slightest breeze was certainly welcome, as the people, packed tightly together, sweated in the spring sunshine.

The choir, accompanied by musical instruments, finished its performance and made way for a group of young dancers. Soon the audience was clapping along to the swirling beat of the dancing and music. There was something so liberating about the celebration that for a moment Andreuz Sandkan felt the need to smile with the others. Almost, at least.

All too familiar worries were circling in his head and the scarface Josel had met haunted the most current of them. Andreuz wished he had more wisdom to put the pieces together, but his reflections with Curtus had been fruitless.

Perhaps taking part in the Spring Day festival would bring a little relief from worrying. Besides, of all Andiol's celebrations, it was the carnival-like Spring Day that he happened to like best.

A variety of merrymakers, jugglers and jesters entertained the crowd at the market, where traders and craftsmen had also come to display their wares. The market tables were full of all kinds of food for sale, and the people swarmed around them. Such was a Spring Day in Paidos.

The most spectacular celebrations were always held in the capital, Dimalos, where the emperor was traditionally received by a parade of troops marching down the main street under the triumphal arches. Paidos was just a medium-sized provincial town, far from the imperial capital. Perhaps that is why the Spring Day there lacked the same military and nationalistic spirit as in Dimalos or other major cities of western Andiol.

Why should I be interested in this kind of dim-witted sabre-rattling, Andreuz wondered. Andiol was not even his homeland. Anything but.

Then the buglers blew a fanfare as the school procession entered the arena. Along with the rest of the audience, Andreuz watched as pupils of different ages were arranged into a formation on the field.

The Spring Competition held during the last week would culminate in a formal award ceremony, followed by a break from school for up to a month. In an age-old tradition, starting on the Spring Day, parents would have their children help out on the farms with the sowing. However, as people increasingly moved from rural to urban areas, the original meaning of the celebration had in many ways become blurred.

The students wore their school colours, and it took Andreuz only a moment to spot a golden-haired head in the light blue rows of the Gatewell School.

While most of the other 16-year-olds knew how to settle down for a dignified event, Josel swayed from side to side in his standing place and jokingly nudged one of his friends.

Andreuz shook his head. Josel was still immature, just entering adulthood. It was probably better to let him enjoy his youth for now, unaware of the ultimate dangers. How long that would be possible, Andreuz did not know.

He had sensed a change. A storm was brewing, and it made him uneasy.

* * *

The occasion continued with the distribution of certificates. Teachers called out the students' names one by one, starting with the youngest. Those who heard their name jumped out of line to collect their certificates from the school magisters standing on a podium in the middle of the field, and just as quickly returned to formation again.

The children's bouncing and quick bows to the teachers were entertaining enough to watch, but Andreuz's mind wandered elsewhere - to troubles old and new.

His eyes darted from the students to the fenced-off section of the stand where the dignitaries of Paidos were seated. At first he saw the tall, straight figure of Dareis Monteilon, the imperial governor, seated between two bodyguards.

Monteilon's position had deteriorated considerably during the year. The powerful Shadow Cross organisation was unhappy with the province’s governor and had the support of many of the major professional factions in the Town Council.

The name 'Shadow Cross' left a bad taste in Andreuz's mouth. In fact, every time he heard it, he felt like spitting a snotty lump on the floor.

The Shadow Cross was skilfully organised and had an impeccable public image. Originally founded hundreds of years ago to protect the rights of peasants, it had spread to the cities of Andiol and extended its activities to all sectors of society. The organisation was a spectacular provider of aid to the poor, participating in charitable projects that were beyond the means of the Empire.

Andreuz's eyes moved from Monteilon to the Shadow Cross leaders sitting a little to his left. With his long black hair, dark goatee and thick eyebrows, the narrow-faced man who stood out was Isendar Vargan, the Shadow Cross’ regional director in Paidos.

As a man who cared about the problems of ordinary people, Vargan enjoyed great popularity. Andreuz could see through the lies, but he was only one man and could not do much for his stronger ones.

Next to Vargan sat a woman in her early forties, her trademark dark hair artfully braided over her head. She was Nadaila Tomsto, the chair of the Shadow Cross group in the Town Council. There were also several other Shadow Cross leaders, whom Andreuz did not know by name.

In the stand, from the Shadow Cross to the right, sat more chairs of the Town Council factions, key officials, and other invited guests. Andreuz could recognise the leader of the Merchants' Guild, with forehead furrows and often depicted in newspaper cartoons, and the influential head of the Women's Labour Union.

Next to Governor Monteilon sat the town councillor Immos Duhan, a short man but a high administrative authority in Paidos. He was responsible for implementing the decisions of the Town Council and the governor.

Then, under the gaze and murmurs of the crowd, a new person was ushered into the fenced-off section of the stand. The beautiful woman had long hazel hair and a stately posture. Mrs Elyssa Monteilon, the governor’s wife, sat in the compartment next to her husband.

In Paidos, all sorts of malicious rumours circulated about the Monteilons' relationship. The tattlers at the market kept saying that one of them had been unfaithful to the other. Of course, in the gossip about the Monteilons, the betrayal was always linked to sexual deviance or relationships with other prominent people in the town. Andreuz was not interested to know if there was any truth in the rumours.

Dareis Monteilon said something to his wife and pointed his finger across the field towards the line-up of the White Court School, where their son Zdain stood in his dark blue school uniform. Andreuz noticed that the boy had inherited much of his mother's good looks.

Zdain was the same age as Josel and had attended the same school in Gatewell few years earlier. In the middle of the previous year, however, he had transferred to the White Court School. It was rumoured that young Monteilon was only nominally a student at White Court, receiving all his lessons from his tutors.

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Not even a governor could take his son to a fully private school. It would have been unthinkable for a high official of the Empire to show such insolent contempt for the state school system. Free education was a matter of national pride in Andiol, and at least in Paidos there were no separate schools for rich and poor children.

Zdain Monteilon and Josel happened to be very evenly matched in sports, and as a result they had become each other's worst rivals in every discipline. Besides, from what Josel had said, Zdain was a real pain in the ass and deserved all the ridicule he could get. Andreuz did not believe in such things. Josel was Josel and sometimes a bit hard to deal with. His mother's son, in many ways...

Andreuz quickly shook off the distracting thoughts. He had promised himself not to think about Josel's mother. Especially on a day like this.

He awoke grateful for a blast of horns. The senior students had received their diplomas and the most anticipated part of the ceremony, the awarding of prizes for the Spring Competition, could begin.

Dareis Monteilon and his assistants had made their way to the podium in the middle of the field. Prizes were to be awarded according to age and gender in each of the nine disciplines: fencing, steeplechase, running, archery, kite fighting, long jump, discus, swimming, and wrestling. Since wrestling was generally considered an unwomanly sport in the Empire, girls did not compete in it at all. Kite fighting, on the other hand, was the only sport in which girls and boys competed in the same series. Winning it was therefore highly prized, despite the relatively low physical demands of the sport.

The governor’s assistant stood on the podium and spoke into the loudspeaker, reading out the names of the age group winners: "Girls, third grade, winners, running: Dai Sadsa, steeplechase: Paede Loreidon..."

Dozens of names whizzed past Andreuz's ears before the announcer reached Josel's age group. Now he sharpened his hearing. "Boys, ninth grade, winners, running: Malken Daofon, steeplechase: Jond Tammreion, fencing: Jovan Merfakoi, long jump: Malken Daofon, discus: Remos Matisof, kite fighting: Josel Sandkan, swimming: Pertus Barifand, archery: Tenn Tarfartian, wrestling: Leon Emmertes."

As Malken from the Eastgate School had won two events, eight youngsters ran to the podium. In mixed order, they stepped up to the podium to receive the applause of the audience and the winner's trophies.

Andreuz watched as Josel climbed the steps to the podium with as much dignity as possible and bowed to Governor Monteilon, as was the custom. Moments later, the official placed a wreath of leaves on his blond locks.

When Josel soon returned to his place in the line-up, Andreuz noticed that he himself was trembling a little. It was probably a mixture of pride and sadness.

Every year it became harder to protect Josel from the world around him. The mutilated stranger had been a warning of sorts - Andreuz was sure of it now. There were forces walking in the night that would not hesitate to use violence to achieve their goals.

* * *

The Spring Day celebrations in the Great Arena ended, as usual, with a speech by the imperial governor. Straight as a stake, Dareis Monteilon stood at the podium.

After receiving the signal to begin from the town councillor, he began to speak through a tinny loudspeaker. "Dear citizens of Paidos! Today we celebrate the Spring Festival, the twenty-second anniversary of the reign of His Imperial Highness, Saveir I. Glory be to the emperor, whose good governance has made Paidos flourish today. We have just rewarded young athletes. In them lies the future of Paidos, the future of all the brave Dimali people. Surely the same enthusiasm of the youth will be transmitted in the days to come for the good of Paidos and the whole Empire. I wish all the graduating students good luck and success in the years to come."

At this point the Monteilon took a short break. There was scattered applause from the audience. Many of the governor's officials clapped vigorously, but the Shadow Cross’ regional director Isendar Vargan crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his seat.

The governor continued. "This past spring has been a good one for Paidos. The town is in order, and the crop prospects are promising. There is good reason to believe that Paidos is going to continue to develop in the same favourable direction..."

Dareis Monteilon had no time to finish his sentence, for Isendar Vargan had risen in the stands and his voice, amplified by a loudspeaker, carried across the arena. "Governor, I disagree. Spring has not been good for everyone in Paidos. Just because the governor and his minions are living large doesn't mean the citizens are doing well."

There was some applause from the audience. Monteilon seemed stunned by the interruption, which Andreuz assumed was unprecedented in the history of Spring Day speeches.

Meanwhile, town councillor Immos Duhan had got hold of a loudspeaker: "Vargan, I ask you to present your opinion to the Town Council. Please allow the imperial governor to continue his speech."

"Is the town councillor trying to prevent the public from hearing the truth about Monteilon's mismanagement?" Vargan replied in a booming voice that drew cheers from the audience.

Monteilon shifted uneasily on the podium and said: "Vargan, no one is stopping you from speaking, but I would like you to leave it for another occasion. Today is a day of unity in Paidos, not of discord."

"Governor, I think I'll speak today. The people of Paidos deserve to hear what an unworthy ruler you are."

"Don't insult the governor!" the tiny town councillor shouted, but he could not continue as a pair of Shadow Cross men had snatched the speaker out of his hand.

Things were getting heated in the fenced-off stand. Some of the officers had stood up and, judging by their gestures, were demanding that Vargan be silenced. Instead, some members of the trade factions were vehemently urging Vargan to continue. The helpless councillor waved his hands in vain, not knowing what to do without his loudspeaker.

Isendar Vargan continued: "Listen! The governor tells falsehoods when he claims that the spring has been good for the people of Paidos. Or does he think the rise in the price of bread and the increased tax burden are good things? Maybe they are good for him. The governor is glad to see the poor people's coins flowing into his coffers."

"Stop your lies!" Monteilon barked at Vargan but was met with clenched fists and angry exclamations from the stands.

"While the governor sat in his palace counting the money he had stolen from the people of Paidos, the Shadow Cross helped poor families buy bread. The Shadow Cross has helped the sick who could not afford the expensive fees of the town infirmaries. Likewise, the Shadow Cross has compensated losses to merchants who have been victims of accidents and robbery," Vargan said, drawing a roar of cheer from the crowd.

Dareis Monteilon realised his moment had come. "That is full of..." he began angrily but could get no further as Vargan's voice overwhelmed the arena.

"All of this has been done by the Shadow Cross while the governor is in bed with the whore boys and the governor’s wife is sharing herself in the civil servants’ offices."

This caused a huge uproar in the audience. Some laughed at Vargan's words, some shouted accusations at Monteilon and a few demanded Vargan to stop his offensive speech, but their voices were drowned out by the din.

Andreuz found it hard to keep still. He wanted to intervene and stand up for governor. But that was not possible, in public he and Dareis Monteilon did not know each other.

"Look!" someone sitting nearby yelled. In the fenced-off section of the stands, Elyssa Monteilon was making her way out of the arena, protected by security guards. All sorts of small objects, such as leaflets crumpled into balls, flew at her from the crowd.

Now Nadaila Tomsto of the Shadow Cross had also risen from her seat and raised the loudspeaker to her mouth. "Why are you running away, harlot? Did the truth hit you too hard?" she jeered after Elyssa Monteilon, who had disappeared through the arena doorway. The mocking words drew wild applause from the crowd.

"Never insult my wife!" Dareis Monteilon snapped from the stage. "Let me finish. It's all an outrageous lie. I have been determined to improve..." Monteilon's speech was drowned in a storm of protests joined by Vargan and Tomsto on their loudspeakers.

Andreuz glanced at the field. The schoolchildren had been infected by the frenzy in the stands and their formation had broken up into a seething horde. Josel and his friends were also hollering along with the others. Andreuz was annoyed, but there was nothing he could do about it either.

Things were getting out of hand. The crowd was screaming for the sheer joy of it. There were attempts to throw rubbish at Dareis Monteilon from the stands, but the distance was too great. Monteilon tried twice more to continue his speech, but the furious roar of the crowd forced him into silence.

Then the governor’s carriage rolled up to the podium. It was drawn by a team of four horses. Immos Duhan, the town councillor, who had run to the field in a panic, waved frantically for Dareis Monteilon to get in. He seemed to refuse at first, but then changed his mind and hurried into the carriage, the door held open by a guard. Amid shouts of derision, the carriage sped out of the arena.

At this point, the teachers, who were upset themselves, realised that they should get their pupils back on track. Starting with the smallest and clearly frightened, they were herded out of the arena. The departure was disorganised and there was no sign of the previous order.

Once Josel's class had been safely ushered off the field, Andreuz rose from his seat and pushed his way to the doors. He had seen enough. Paidos no longer felt like the same town where his family had found shelter from the enemy fifteen years ago.

* * *