PART II - Part 02

“I am not staying. I am leaving. As soon as I earn enough money I will send for you to come and join me…” he said quietly and kissed

her to calm her down. He then pulled his sleeve out of her hand and ran downhill.

Agapi Slivarova ran after him. About fifty metres later she tripped on a root, fell and rolled down in the snow. She fainted. Peno Popgonev kept going. He never did turn back to see his beloved Agapi one more time. He ducked into the woods and ran faster. Agapi Slivarova lay in the snow motionless.

2. Kolio Bochvarov, climbing up hill, stopped to rest. He took out his canteen and drank some water. He plugged it and put it back in his bag. The wilderness attracted him and he wanted to absorb it all with his eyes. His gaze stopped on the slope where Agapi Slivarova’s body was resting. He thought it was Ilinka, the crazy lady from his village, rolling in the snow. But not being sure who it was, he ran towards her. He was completely surprised to find Agapi. He leaned over and lifted her up from the snow and placed her on his back. He then quickly climbed up the mountain to the village. When he arrived in front of Gone Slivarovo’s front yard he called out to Hrisanta. Gone heard the call and told Hrisanta that Kolio was calling her at the front gate. They both rushed over to meet him. Hrisanta arrived first and when she saw Agapi she began to cry loudly. When Gone arrived, he saw Hrisanta crying and Kolio holding Agapi over his shoulder. He then quickly ran over and helped Kolio put Agapi down on the bed.

3. When Kolio brought her back, Agapi Slivarova showed no sign of life except that she was breathing. They sprinkled her face with water and she instantly opened her deep blue eyes. She began to cry. Hrisanta too was crying over her. Kolio Bochvarov left the room. Gone escorted him out to the front gate and said:

“Thank you, my friend, you saved my child.” He then patted him on the shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it. We are family,” replied Kolio and left. He then took the road through the village and went home.

Gone Slivarov went back to the room where his daughter was resting. He sat beside the fireplace for a while. He then poured himself a shot of rakia, sat at the table and drank it all at once.

“There is a god after all…” he muttered to himself and put his shot glass down.

4. A light was lit in Stavro Nakovski’s new house. Evangelia was very happy and smiled contentedly. She hugged Stavro joyfully. One of her children began to cry in the corner of the room. Evangelia let go of Stavre and went over to calm the baby down. She picked it up in her arms and began to cradle it. The child lowered its voice, bringing a smile on Stavre’s face. Evangelia put the child on the bed.

“It is time to prepare the table. Our guests will soon be arriving…” said Stavre, hugged her and they kissed.

“I will prepare the table if you help me…” said Evangelia with a smile on her face.

Stavre Nakovski grabbed the table from the kitchen and took it to the guestroom. Evangelia helped him put it down on the floor and cover it. He kissed her gently on the forehead.

“Now I will help you set it,” he said. Evangelia laughed.

“Fine then, help me… if that’s what you so wish...” she said and gave him the pan with the zelnik.

Stavre Nakovski took the zelkik to the guest room and then came back to the kitchen. Evangelia handed him two bottles of rakia and a bowl of sweet buns.

“Be careful you don’t drop them. We don’t have any more…” she said with a smile and turned her back to do the next job.

Stavre Nakovski went to the guest room again. He then heard a knock on the door. He put the bowl and bottles on the table and

rushed downstairs to open it. There, staring at him, was Kolio Bochvarov accompanied by his wife Andonia.

“Congratulations on your new house,” said Kolio and was escorted to the guest room. His wife Andonia followed.

“Please, sit at the table…” Stavre invited them kindly. “Evangelia has baked a nice zelnik and some sweet buns,” he said and put out the shot glasses. He put one in front of Kolio and Andonia and filled them with rakia. He then poured one for himself, lifted it and cheerfully said:

“Welcome to our new home!”

“We are happy to be here and may your table always be bountiful,” said Kolio and took a sip of rakia.

“Help yourself, take a sweet bun...” said Stavre to Andonia who was shyly looking at the baked goods.

“Thank you Stavre but I will wait until Evangelia comes over to the table, then I will have some…” she timidly said and adjusted her beautiful hair in her dark brown head kerchief.

“I will go and see what is happening with the appetizers,” said Stavre and ran into the kitchen.

“We have guests my dear,” he said and kissed her gently on the cheek. Evangelia began to rush, wiped her hands on her apron and hurried to the guest room to greet them. She entered the guest room smiling, shook hands with Andonia and Kolio and sat at the table. Stavre also returned and sat down.

“I bring you greetings from Pondilaki…” said Kolio.

“Oh, so you found him. How is he?” asked Stavre.

“He lives well in the city. Pondilaki is a special person. There is much strength in that man…” said Kolio and took a long sigh. Stavre laughed. Andonia blushed. Evangelia got up and, without

apologizing, left the guest room. There was a knock at the front door. Stavre Nakovski tapped Kolio on the shoulder and ran down and opened the door.

“Congratulations on your new home,” said Gone Slivarov and crossed over the threshold. Following him were his wife Hrisanta and their daughter Agapi. Stavre invited them to the guest room. He opened the door and asked them to go in.

“Are you expecting guests?” a voice was heard saying at the front door. Stavre turned around to see who it was.

“Come, come on in,” said Stavre cheerfully. “We are celebrating our home opening tonight.”

“That’s why we came. To congratulate you on your new house,” replied Dimitar Popgonev and pointed at Donka standing behind him. Stavre stepped aside and let them pass him by on the way to the guest room. They all went up and sat around the table. Evangelia brought some boiled potatoes and put them on the table.

“Take some while they are still hot,” she said cheerfully. “I am so happy when my house is full of guests. I love you all,” she added.

5. Vasil Digalovski lived on the other side of Kostaneria in a house which his mother had inherited from her grandfather, who was a priest in the village. Dimitar Popgonev’s son helped them repair the half-burned house. Vasil lived with his mother. He put on his new suit, white shirt and tie and polished his shoes. All this while his mother sat in the corner of the room knitting and watching him.

“Be careful my son! Stavre is an educated man. He lived in Athens and hung around with knowledgeable people. Please don’t embarrass our family…” she said quietly.

“Okay, mother, I will be careful,” replied Vasil.

“Don’t stay there too long. Visit with them for about half an hour and then come back home. And don’t eat too much. Our family has always been mindful of such things…” she said.

“Of course mother! I will simply go there and come back…” said Vasil and went out. It was dark and cold outside but that did not worry him. He carefully strolled down the street trying to avoid stepping in the puddles. He soon reached Stavro Nakovski’s house and knocked on the door.

“Good evening and congratulations,” Vasil said to Stavre when he opened the door.

“Thank you, Vasil. Come on in!” replied Stavre inviting him inside.

Vasil Digalovski was escorted into the guest room where he greeted everyone individually. He sat down in the place selected for him by Evangelia and accepted a glass of rakia from Stavre.

“Congratulations on the birth of your children and may they give you many grandchildren in this house…” Vasil toasted the Nakovski family with a gentle smile. “Finally our people are returning to our village and to their old cradle…” he added.

6. Evangelia Gasparova cut up the zelnik and gave everyone a piece. Stavre Nakovski filled everyone’s glasses with rakia. Donka grabbed a sweet bread and began to chew it.

“I understand you were an actor in Athens before the war?” said Vasil Digalovski looking at Stavre with interest.

“A great actor,” weighed in Kolio Bochvarov. “He acted for the gentlemen in Athens…”

Dimitar Popgonev leaned against the wall and lit a cigarette. Stavre Nakovski laughed out loudly.

“Who told you that?” asked Stavre.

“I learned that in Solun. The dock workers gave you great honours and drank a lot of rakia toasting the birth of your twins. Stoios Panagopoulos toasted you and during his toast he said that you were the greatest actor in all of Macedonia and Greece,” said Kolio with a serious look on his face while looking directly at Stavre.

“It is true. Unfortunately the times have changed and now here I am in Kostaneria,” replied Stavre and laughed. “There is no theatre here so now I am going to be a farmer.”

“We can have a theatre in Kostaneria. It would be a lot of fun,” said Vasil Digalovski blushing. “I can be an actor too… I can act…” he added.

“Slow down Vasil, this is a village...” replied Stavre.

“Don’t be fooled… There is no big difference between a village and a city. It all depends on how people are organized. I believe Kostaneria can have a theatre. Of course not like the one in Athens in which you participated, but a smaller company which can act when necessary and will provide us with cheap entertainment,” said Vasil Digalovski with a serious look on his face.

“There are not enough people available here to play all the roles required by a theatre. Who needs a theatre in Kostaneria anyway...” said Stavre and shook his head from side to side.

“I am available and I will try to act well. Maybe not as well as you but I can play a simple role, with a few words. I want people to applaud me…” said Vasil with a very serious look on his face.

“You will be good for the role of Oedipus in the eponymous drama…” said Stavre through a smile.

“Let me be Oedipus. We will fix up Vankov’s tavern and we will perform the play there. Agreed?!” replied Vasil and stuck his hand out.

Stavre Nakovski thought for a moment, laughed out loud, shook Vasil Digalovski’s hand and said, “Agreed!” which surprised everyone in the room.

“We will all prepare for the play Oedipus. I will be playing Oedipus,” said Vasil Digalovski cheerfully, looking quite satisfied.

Kolio Bochvarov laughed out loud. Dimitar Popgonev was a bit concerned and did not get involved in the conversation. He sat leaning against the wall and puffed on his cigarette. They all sat around the table until late evening and then, almost half-drunk, they left and went to their homes. Stavre Nakovski hugged and kissed his wife but Evangelia pulled away from his embrace.

“I have to clear the table,” she said.

Stavre Nakovski laughed, grabbed her by her slim waist and lifted her up high.

“Let’s go to bed. It’s late. You can clear the table tomorrow…” he said and put her down. They quickly prepared and went to bed. Stavre blew out the candle and the light in the room disappeared.

“Are you asleep?” asked Stavre.

Evangelia did not answer. He assumed she was already asleep.

V

1. On a quiet spring evening Vasil Digalovski, a simple villager, became king Oedipus. No one on Kostaneria expected this to happen. Until that evening if anyone would have said the village was going to have a theatre, they would have been laughed out of town. Similarly, if someone would have said that Vasil Digalovski was going to turn into a king, even if it was Oedipus, no one would have wanted to have a conversation with the person. No one would want to talk with them, not even about the least important things, like no one wanted to talk to lonely Ilinka who, every day from dawn to dusk, measured the road with her little hands, walking in

the mud barefoot. On Easter eve the villagers gathered in Vankov’s tavern and sat on the wooden benches and the few available chairs and waited for the curtain to lift so that they could see Stavre Nakovski’s miracle in Kostanaria and, of course, Vasil Digalovski who called this place a theatre.

2. His sudden appearance, with darkened cheeks and a white mouth, all dressed in a dark green gown, wearing a spruce wreath on his head, throwing his arms up in the air, attempting to throw words at them from his white mouth, startled the villagers. They thought he was a monster. They all looked afraid. But that only lasted a few moments until they recognized Vasil Digalovski’s figure on the dimly lit stage.

Gone Slivarov sat in the left corner of the theatre and followed Vasil Digalovski’s movements dizzily, wondering whether this was real theatre or not. He had seen several performances in the city, put on inside great big white tents, but what Vasil Digalovski was doing did not fit with that image. He decided to talk to Stavre Nakovski, after all Stavre was the most educated man in the village. But he changed his mind when he saw Stavre Nakovski appear on stage disguised as a female.

“He too has gone out of his mind!?” thought Gone. “There is no person here to whom I can talk. Stavre is also a lunatic.” He decided not to talk to Stavre. He turned around and watched the villagers looking confused as they tried to follow the tragedy on stage.

3. Suddenly gendarmes rushed in and invaded Vankov’s tavern. Government officials had observed something unusual going on and decided to pay the tavern a surprise visit. As they burst in they too began to watch the play and become involved in the game. What they saw they found hard to believe and so they stood there staring at the stage, tired and blushing from the cold.

4. Both villagers and gendarmes stared dreamily at the stage. Vasil Digalovski cried like a wild beast and covered his face with his

hands. He then uncovered his face exposing what looked like two red holes for eyes. Donka Popgoneva screamed very loudly.

“Poor Vasil he has lost his eyes!” screamed Hrisanta Slivarova.

Everyone jumped to their feet. They all looked at Vasil Digalovski’s red eyes with great fear. The curtain fell and all the audience could see was the red linen. Gone Slivarov, not believing his own eyes, quickly ventured through the chairs and found himself behind the curtain. He almost collided with Vasil Digalovski.

“Are you really blind?” he asked him, staring at his eyes covered with dark red paint.

Vasil Digalovski laughed out loudly and wiped the paint off his eyes.

“Don’t worry, it’s just red clay. The paint is used as effect to make the scene look more realistic,” explained Vasil, wondering if he had expressed himself comprehensibly because Gone Slivarov still looked at him as if stunned, holding his face and staring at him with his big blue eyes. Vasil wanted to prove to him that he was okay but the bell struck. The curtain was about to go up. There was a wave of confusion in the audience. They all stared at the stage with a certain visible fear on their faces.

5. There was complete silence in the tavern. The commander of the gendarmes fired his pistol over the heads of the villagers. After that he went backstage.

“Raise the curtain!” he yelled at Vasil Digalovski. “Do it now!”

Surprised by the rude interruption, Vasil Digalovski began to raise the curtain while staring at the frightened eyes staring back at him. The gendarme pushed him hard out of the way and took to the stage. He put his pistol back in his holster and, pleased with himself, laughed out loudly.

“This is political work... We thought this village was burned down and abandoned. But, unlike some other villages, obviously it is not. So, at this time, we must establish a government so that you can legally live in this place,” he said. “We need to choose a village mayor for you. This is how it is as ordered by the Athens government and by his majesty king George.” He then paused to see how the villagers were going to react. Everyone remained silent wondering what atrocities the government was planning for them. The gendarme coughed and said: “First we choose your village mayor as ordered by the government. Do you have any suggestions?”

Stavre Nakovski was standing behind the gendarme. Gendarmes did not fit into Stavre’s world. They reminded him of the time before the war. His impulsive instinct was to tell the gendarme to hit the road but he knew better.

“Why don’t we appoint Dimitar Popgonev as mayor. He is the oldest man in the village and everyone respects him. Of course, if everyone agrees?” said Stavre with aims at appointing the best person in the village as mayor.

The commander nodded his head vaguely. Stavre Nakovski was not sure if he had approved or disapproved. The silent villagers stood there surprised, wondering why the authorities wanted to choose a mayor so urgently and under such circumstances. Why not have proper elections? But after a brief silence there was a lot of chatter and the villagers agreed to appoint Dimitar Popgonev mayor of Kostaneria.

Stavre Nakovski was happy with the choice and showed a slight smile on his face, which disappointed the gendarme who made a sour and distorted face. He was not happy with the decision as was apparent by the look on his face and in his eyes. The gendarme got off the stage and went near Dimitar Popgonev, tapped him on his shoulder and laughed out loudly.

“So, this is the best man in your village?!” he yelled.

Stavre Nakovski sighed deeply. There was a lot of quiet whispering in the tavern. Dimitar Popgonev stood still and stared at the gendarme’s cumbersome movements, pacing back and forth.

“Take him and cut off his head!” the commander ordered the two gendarmes who stood beside him leaning on the cobweb infested wall.

Everyone in the tavern thought he was joking. The two gendarmes grabbed Dimitar Popgonev by his arms and took him outside. Stavre Nakovski stood there petrified. Vasil Digalovski was silent. The commander laughed out loudly.

“People, they will kill him. He is one of us, a villager! Let’s go out and save him!” yelled Gone Slivarov and dashed out, following the gendarmes who had taken Dimitar Popgonev. But after taking a few steps a tall gendarme jumped in front of him and pointed his bayonet, that was sticking out of the end of his rifle, at his chest and ordered him to stop. Gone Slivarov stopped, went silent and lowered his head. The commander laughed loudly. He then turned and abruptly looked at Vasil Digalovski’s face.

“You will be the mayor of this village!” he said sternly pointing at Vasil to everyone’s surprise. He then laughed loudly, walked outside, looked at the white-haired man lying on the ground, pointed at him and said: “This is what will happen to you if you defy us. You will be without a head on your shoulders if you ever dare disobey my orders.” He then turned to the villagers and yelled out: “All of you now go home!”

The villagers were silent and wrapped in great fear. They left Vanko’s tavern with steps of uncertainty. Stavre Nakovski left last and was met by Donka Popgoneva who threw herself into his embrace, crying in despair.

“Be strong, please be strong Aunt Donka…” he said attempting to calm her down.

Donka could barely stand up. She was crying uncontrollably and was in great pain. She always knew how to hide and be unnoticed.

From a long time ago she knew how to avoid the servants of death. That is why she did not shriek or make any kind of sound when Dimitar Popgonev’s grey head rolled on the floor.

Stavre Nakovski grabbed her by her arm and slowly escorted her home. They walked in silence and so did the other villagers who walked with them. He took her inside and left her there to wait for her son.

He went home too. All the villagers dispersed to their homes. They were all concerned. Not a single lamp was lit that night and nobody slept all night.

Vasil Digalovski remained behind in Vankov’s tavern with the gendarmes.

“Take that paint off your face! You are the mayor of the village now! What kind of a mayor would you be with paint on your face!” the commander said sternly.

“Yes Sir! I am going…” replied Vasil with a tone of uncertainty and rushed to wash his face in the bucket of water that Stavre had brought earlier to be used after the play. After he washed his face he ran back and quietly stood in front of the commander.

“This circus was sufficient. We don’t want it repeated!” said the commander. “Now take us to your house!” he ordered threateningly.

Vasil Digalovski took the lead with uncertain steps. The commander followed and the rest of the gendarmes followed behind him. They entered Vasil Digalovski’s house and huddled in a room on the ground floor. They left a guard outside. The commander lay on the bed and the others lay on the floor. They soon all fell asleep.

Vasil Digalovski went upstairs. His mother was waiting for him.

“What happened in the village, son? Who are these people you brought home? Are they your friends?” she asked with a worried look on her face.

“Be quiet, mother, be quiet!” he said quietly and went into the next room. He lay on the bed with his open eyes, thinking.

VI

1. To everyone’s surprise the gendarmes left Kostaneria. The villagers were thrilled. Fifteen days later, Stavre Nakovski stood leaning against the crumbling wall in Vankov’s tavern waiting for Gone Slivarov to arrive. They were going up high in the mountains to hunt wild game. While resting against the wall Stavre was taking in a panoramic view of the surroundings. Suddenly he jumped upright when he saw a column of gendarmes approaching. The gendarmes were followed by an ox-drawn wagon with a man, woman and three scrawny children riding on it. Stavre quickly ran home. When Evengelia saw the distress on his face she became frightened.

“They are coming… The gendarmes have returned…” he said trying to catch his breath. He then ran down to the cellar and hid his rifle in one of the baskets. He climbed back upstairs and went to the guest room. After that he went outside, sat by the front gate and watched the column of gendarmes in the distance.

“We fought in the war so that others can warm their asses,” he mumbled, while watching the gendarmes.

The same commander was leading them. They stopped in front of Vankov’s tavern and got off their horses.

“Milkiadis go on to that house over there and wait for me!” the commander said to the man behind the wagon harness. Milkiadis tapped his oxen with his twig and they started moving. They stopped in front of Vasil Digalovski’s house. The commander left the gendarmes in front of Vankov’s tavern and went over to Milkiadis. When he arrived he got off his horse, walked over to the gate and knocked loudly. Vasil Digalovski opened the gate. He was trembling with fear.

“Please come in sir, my house is always open to good guests,” he said with a trembling voice. Vasil then pointed towards the entrance to the house.

The commander laughed loudly, turned towards Milkiadis, raised his hand up high and said:

“Mr. Tsakondas, come on in! This will be your future home.” He then went inside the house.

Milkiadis Tsakondas got off the wagon. He then reached over to his wife Evridika and helped her down. Evridika was a skinny woman with many scars on her face that looked like healed wounds but they were pock marks from an illness or bad acne. Milkiadis then offloaded his three children. Evridika stood there and looked around. Her face was thin and she looked undernourished and sick. The three children, all female, stepped over the wooden threshold of the two-story house while licking on lollipops.

“Come, come! I am very happy to have you live in my house…” said Vasil humbly and helped the girls enter the house. He followed behind. When they entered the room they were met by the stern look of the gendarme commander.

“So, now the village has a mayor and a government!” said the commander in a rough tone of voice and handed Milkiadis a rifle with a short barrel. “Don’t spare its use, kill everything that stands in your way,” he ordered.

“Yes Sir. We are in agreement…” replied Milkiadis.

The commander then turned to Vasil and said: “Now go and prepare lunch for my people! We will be here in half an hour!” he then paused for a moment and sternly said: “We will be back here in half an hour, do you hear me?!”

He then turned to Evridika, bowed his head slightly, looked at Vasil and sternly said: “Don’t play games with me! You will lose your head if there is no lunch!”

“Please sit down,” said Vasil to the newcomers and climbed up the stairs to the upper chambers. His mother was waiting. She was very angry.

“You made a deal with the devil, son. They will destroy your home…” she said angrily.

“Vasil did not respond. He bypassed the bed where she was lying and went into the other room.

2. Milkiadis Tsakondas went outside, unload his bags and brought them into the house. Evridika sat the children down on the bed and began to unpack the bags. She put the clothes in an empty closet in the corner opposite the window. The children kept licking their lollipops and occasionally smiled. Milkiadis went outside again and removed the oxen from the harness and put them in the shed behind the house. He looked satisfied when he returned.

3. Led by their commander, ten gendarmes got off their horses. They tied their horses on the fence, went inside the house and entered the room where the Tsakondas family was staying. They sat around the big table. The commander looked satisfied and smiled infectiously.

“Well, start eating! This is our house now. The host is treating us.” said the commander to the gendarmes and began to eat.

Milkiadis and Evridika Tsakondas were both confused. The three girls kept licking their lollipops and looking at the gendarmes with fear. Vasil Digalovski stood beside the corner closet and silently watched. The commander kept staring at him.

“Sit down and eat with us!” he ordered sternly.

Vasil Digalovski did not move from the spot. All the gendarmes stopped eating. Milkiadis kept switching his eyes back and forth from the commander to Vasil. A storm was about to erupt. Evridika went over to Vasil, gently took him by the hand, led him to the big table and sat him down in the chair on the commander’s right side.

“Maybe he is not hungry. He ate a little earlier,” she humbly whispered to the commander.

Milkiadis Tsakondas looked angry.

“That lying bitch, she wants to save him!” Milkiadis thought to himself, took two steps backwards and sat on the bed next to the girls. Silence followed as everyone watched the commander’s hateful eyes.

Vasil Digalovski began to eat. The commander laughed dryly. The gendarmes resumed chewing their boiled potatoes. Evridika sighed hard with relief. She was pleased to have avoided bloodshed in the house that she had just inherited.

4. The gendarmes finished eating. There was loud laughter coming out of Vasil Digalovski’s house as they got on their horses and, without greeting anyone, left the village. Vasil Digalovski silently sat on a stone in his yard leaning against the fence. Beside him sat Milkiadis staring into the distance.

“Let’s go inside, Mr. Digalo,” proposed Milkiadis.

“Okay Mr. Tsakondas…” replied Vasil, separated himself from the fence and slowly went into the house. Milkiadis followed behind and the two men entered the house through the already open door.

“Forgive me for leaving you but I need to lie down for a little while,” Vasil apologized to Milkiadis looking at his inquisitive eyes and then went upstairs to his room. He again passed by his mother lying in bed and, without saying anything, went into his room. He lay on the bed with his shoes on, staring at the black stain on the ceiling.

“Everything is gone to hell!” he thought to himself and punched his pillow.

Evridika Tsakondas lovingly caressed the long blond hair on the heads of her three girls and gave them each a lollipop. She then stared at Milkiadis sitting at the table eating boiled potatoes.

“We have stepped into a snake’s nest…” she said worriedly.

“Don’t ask me what to do. We came to this village to serve the king and the government and I don’t see what is different here. I don’t care if people like me or not. My job is to govern this village. And I will do my duty and gladly cut off hundreds of heads,” he said and turned away nervously.

“Do as you like, but remember that people live with other people and not with animals or alone like the devil. You are the head of this family and you need to take care of us. Do whatever you think. However, always be careful! This village is a snake’s nest,” she said and lay down on the bed.

They were both silent. A strange silence filled the room.

VII

1. An ox-pulled wagon loaded with barrels and bags was slowly moving towards Kostaneria. The oxen were guided by a man with slick black hair and a long grey moustache. Traveling beside his wagon was a dark-skinned man ridding a horse and wearing long boots. He had a smooth bearded face and wore a black mantle over which hung a silver cross.

“Kostaneria is certainly a little village. You can’t get rich quick there, that’s for sure,” said the priest.

“I am not in a hurry. Our work is long-term. We will see…” replied the man leading the oxcart and whipped the oxen.

“Whatever you think Stefanos, but I think the village is not big enough for you to do business…” replied the priest.

“It is not big enough for church work either but still you are going there anyway…” said Stefanos pessimistically.

“Zinda Niarhos always wins. I will be returning from Kostaneria with a suitcase full of gold, just watch and see,” said the priest.

“Bless you, Father, if you can why not…” replied Stefanos and turned onto the village road.

Zinda Niarhos kicked the horse on the belly, sped by the wagon, reached Vankov’s tavern and was stopped by Milkiadis, whose sword was touching the ground and dragged through the dust.

“Good afternoon, Father. Welcome to Kostaneria…” smiled Milkiadis.

Zinda Niarhos got off his horse, shook Milkiadis’s hand and said:

“Hello old man, I haven’t seen you so happy in a long time…”

“Why shouldn’t I be? I am the governor here. Careful what you say…” replied Milkiadis and laughed out loud.

“We have a guest Milkiadis. This is our new merchant,” said the priest.

Milkiadis stopped laughing. Stefanos jumped off the wagon.

“Good afternoon Mr. Milkiadis,” said Stefanos with a smile on his face.

Milkiadis Tsakondas looked at the merchant and said:

“So, they sent Stefanos the Asia Minor colonist to my village. That’s okay, he is okay. Welcome!”

Zinda Niarhos laughed out loud. Milkiadis looked at him curiously.

“Where should I lodge, Mr. Milkiadis?” asked Stefanos humbly.

Milkiadis waited until the priest stopped laughing, looked at the Asia Minor colonist and said:

“Over there, at that place. My house is the second last house on the left side of the road,” and pointed with his hand at the house on the cliff. “Unload your things at that house. That place one time served as a store where goods and foodstuffs were sold. Inside there is room for a coffee shop, I think… but it should be fine for you…”

“Thank you, Mr. Milkiadis,” said Stefanos humbly. He then went inside Vankov’s tavern, looked around and came out again. He then approached Milkiadis and stopped beside him.

The priest piped up and jokingly said: “What? You don’t like it?”

Stefanos looked down.

“Answer the priest!” ordered Milkiadis.

Stefanos raised his head up and looked into the distance.

“It’s fine. I will unload my wagon. The oxen are tired and need to rest. Excuse me….” he said humbly and apologetically and went to his wagon.

“Wait Stefanos, you have not yet earned the place…” said Milkiadis with a cynical look on his face.

“Please Mr. Milkiadis, please go ahead and tell me what you need from me and I will do everything I can to meet your demands,” replied Stefanos.

“You don’t sound surprised by my proposal…” marveled Milkiadis looking a bit confused. He did not know what to tell Stefanos. Zinda Niarhos laughed out loud.

“The first thing you need to do is donate some things. Some you deliver to Mr. Milkiadis’s house and some you take to the church to show God how kind you are. You don’t make note of these things in your notebook because they are donations, not loans. Now be a good

man and go unload your things,” ordered the priest and sat down on a stool in front of Vankov’s tavern.

Stefanos began to unload his goods. He first unloaded the bags. He was drenched in sweat.

“I want this tavern open by this evening!” ordered Milkiadis and then looked at the priest.

“I don’t have a store to open,” replied Zinda Niarhos and shrugged his shoulders.

“Then let us go to the church. I will introduce you to the villagers,” said Milkiadis. “But be careful! The population here is upset and can rebel, so let us not suffer if there is no need for it…”

2. The church was about fifty metres outside of the village. There was a dense forest of chestnut trees stretching behind it. The roof was red in colour and could be seen from afar. The façade had long lost its original colour, it had faded from the snow and rain that constantly beat down on this mountainous region. Zinda Niarhos released his horse to graze in the big yard. Milkiadis rang the big church bell and then went out into the yard and joined Zinda Niarhos.

“What do we do now?” asked the priest curiously and lazily.

“We will wait for the villagers to arrive. It’s time they met and got a feel for their divine person in the village. All we lack now is a teacher and we will be complete,” replied Milkiadis.

“We will have a teacher in the village soon. I know the person. We were together at roll call. He will be here this fall,” said the priest and laughed.

“The villagers are coming. Be careful! You are a priest again...” warned Milkiadis.

The villagers began to arrive from all sides and gathered in the churchyard. Many looked upset. Stavre Nakovski walked slowly and carefully. Gone Slivarov dragged his feet beside him. They entered the churchyard and stood to the side away from the rest.

Milkiadis Tsakondas gently tapped on the priest’s shoulder and then raised his hand to get everyone’s attention. Soon there was silence. Milkiadis swallowed hard.

“People!” he yelled out loud and looked up at the sky. “It has been many days since our church had its doors open to those who wish to worship and show their affection to the Son of God. However, it will be different from now on. I am pleased to present to you the new priest who today arrived in Kostaneria. This is God’s representative. He has a good heart and much understanding for everyone’s troubles. I here, before all of you, surrender to him the temple of God, our village church. I expect you all to know this and to appreciate it. The name of our new priest, standing next to me, is Zinda Niarhos. That is all I have to say for now,” said Milkiadis and moistened his lips with his tongue.

Zinda Niarhos was not happy with the government entrusting this place to him so that he could turn the villagers into an obedient flock of sheep, which the government could then shear when it wished. It seemed to him that he would have no problems turning the poor souls standing before him into obedient sheep. Then, as the priest looked through the crowd, he noticed Stavre Nakovski. An evil smile surfaced on his lips.

“That bastard will help me. I will move into his house. I will have free room and board and everything else that a village priest is entitled to…” he thought to himself and began to walk among the villagers towards Stavre. He stopped in front of him and smiled slightly.

“Help me get acquainted with the people…” he said and extended his hand for a handshake.

Stavre Nakovski slowly looked at his bearded face, at his old dirty black mantle and at the silver cross that hung above it.

“How have we sinned against God to be receiving a killer like this guy?” Stavre thought to himself, turned around and, without shaking his hand, walked away and headed for the village. Gone Slivarov followed. They walked silently.

“You know the priest, don’t you!?” asked Gone with much interest.

“Yes! We met in Athens. He was defrocked then. He spent his days being drunk, gambling and chasing women. Many believed he would never wash the blood from his hands. He killed people for money. The Germans paid well. He would have killed his own mother for money. He came to the cabaret every day, where I was employed as an artist. He is a monster. May God curse the person who sent him to Kostaneria,” replied Stavre.

“Take it easy, Stavre. The man reached out to you. Maybe he has changed? Things do happen in life you know?” said Gone.

“Sorry Uncle Gone but people like him don’t change overnight. They always remain the same. Everything around them stinks of rot. Blood will be spilled in our village. We will suffer a lot. I might be the first one to go,” replied Stavre.

“Don’t think that way. We have a governor in the village. We have a mayor. Our job is to abide by the law and live honest lives,” said Gone.

“That is true, Uncle Gone. We will live just as honourably as he did before the war,” replied Stavre sarcastically.

“Take it easy, Stavre. I don’t believe they will turn the clock back…?” said Gone.

“They have already turned the clock back. Zinda Niarhos, the murderer, will perform God’s works in the Greek language. But outside of Milkiadis and the priest we have no Greeks in the village. Can’t you see what’s happening here?” replied Stavre.

“Anyway, let’s wait and see. Time will tell. Let’s wait and see,” said Gone and turned into the yard of his house.

Stavre Nakovski continued to walk on the dusty road. He stopped in front of Vankov’s tavern. He became enraged when he saw Stefanos the Asia Minor colonist inside. He did not say anything and went home.

4. Zinda Niarhos stood beside Milkiadis while observing the villagers. He detected mistrust in their glances. He said something. The villagers did not understand what he said and stood there in silence. Zinda Niarhos then began to curse those from the government who sent him to Kostaneria.

“Excuse me…” he then said to Milkiadis in a soft tone of voice and entered the church.

Milkiadis detected anxiety on the priest’s face and smiled.

“Go home now and come back to church regularly!” Milkiadis ordered the people in a stern tone of voice.

The people did not move from their seats. They just stood there staring at his dark face.

“Go home, people!” Milkiadis yelled out loud and turned red in the face.

“Go home, damn you!” he bellowed at them, pulled his pistol out of the holster and pointed it at them.

Donka Popgoneva, standing near Milkiadis, spat at his feet and turned slowly towards the other villagers.

None of those sitting down moved.

“Let’s go home, people! The comedy is over…” said Donka out loud and walked away. The rest of the villagers followed. They left

the churchyard and headed toward their homes. No one said a word. They all quietly went inside and locked their doors.

Milkiadis stood there for a while and then went inside the church. Zinda Niarhos stood by the altar. He looked up at Milkiadis and said:

“They are wild people.”

“No problem, I will tame them!” replied Milkiadis. “The government and the king have confidence in us and support us. We need to fulfill their requirements and strive to implement their ideas. That’s all, Father. So be careful how you behave around them,” warned Milkiadis. “Excuse me now, I must go…” he added.

“Do you have a place for me to stay? Or do you think I will sleep in the church or on the street?” said the priest with an ironic tone of voice.

“There is a small house behind the church. You will be comfortable there. Goodbye, Father. Just think about how you will domesticate your flock…” replied Milkiadis with an equally ironic tone of voice and stepped out of the church. He then walked through the courtyard very quickly and slowed down when he reached his house. He then sat at the table and leaned his head on it. The three girls suddenly jumped on his back. He yelled at them harshly and they ran off to their bed. Evridika looked at him sternly, but Milkiadis ignored her. He lowered his head again and put it back on the table.