He strolled on, letting himself be carried away by the city's festivities. He looked at armor and swords in one of the shop windows that he would probably never be able to afford.
The festivities captivated him for a moment. Music, laughter, the clinking of glasses.
Finally, after wandering around for a while, he bought himself something to eat - a small piece of fresh flatbread filled with herbs and cheese. He leaned against a wall that was partly full of roses.
"Listen to me! Listen to me!" These words echoed through the alley, accompanied by the excited murmur of the crowd.
They must have come from the marketplace, which was a little further away. Actually, it sounded like it always did there: people fighting over the best goods. And a few fights now and then, but these were quickly settled by the guards.
Suddenly the atmosphere, which had just been calm and relaxed, broke apart like a rift. An unsettled whisper began to spread through the alley.
"They want something from us again..."
"Ripping us off again... they're good at it!"
The murmuring didn't die down, but grew louder, and people began to look around uneasily. It was a feeling that spread quickly - a nervous tug that made the air thicker.
And then soldiers he had never seen before appeared. They pushed their way through the alley and began to urge people on with brusque gestures, forcing their way to the marketplace.
"Didn't you hear?" One of the soldiers blurted out the words, his voice cutting and aggressive. "You're to go to the marketplace!"
The other soldiers, dressed in red and green, wore the emblem of two overlapping semicircles on their uniforms - something he had never seen before in the city.
Gradually, the people shifted towards the market square. He was literally pulled along by the masses.
When they finally reached the market square, they found themselves in the middle of a gathering crowd. On a small wooden stand, where merchants normally displayed their wares, stood soldiers from the north - their appearance like a menacing wall of steel and determination.
"Listen!" one of them shouted, his voice sharp and penetrating.
"Shut the hell up!" another soldier added angrily, his words like lashes from a whip.
Slowly, reluctantly, the angry crowd began to calm down. But their faces - the eyes that had previously been full of life and fervor - now seemed blank and dull. They stared at the soldiers.
"I wonder what they want from us again," a woman asked her husband curiously.
"I wonder what? Money and our sons, they can't want anything else!" The man reacted irritably, the words coming out of him as if he could no longer escape the anger.
"They already have..." she replied thoughtfully, her voice now sounding rather resigned.
The man's expression changed for a moment, as if he was remembering something he would perhaps rather have forgotten.
A rather slight, almost insignificant man entered the stand. He seemed small and fragile compared to the other soldiers, who stood there with broad shoulders and stiff stares. But when he spoke, his tone was almost indifferent.
"All right then... Let's get this over with." His words were flat, devoid of emotion, as if he were simply dismissing this event as a duty.
"Hear the words of Count Aurdin!" shouted one of the soldiers.
The crowd fell silent.
The count cleared his throat.
"Very well... Citizens of this land." His voice sounded sharper now, more insistent. "We decree that taxes must be raised. And that the sons of this land, be called to battle once more."
He paused while the crowd collectively held its breath, then continued:
"To win the battle in the north so that the gates remain intact! We will give our all so that you too can give your all for this goal."
Resentment spreads among the masses.
". . . I knew it!" grumbled one woman.
"You're too lazy and too incapable of sorting out your own affairs." another railed.
Nidal just looked at it for the moment. Behind him, the crowds gradually pushed forward. As if they wanted to attack the soldiers.
Then a hand grabbed his shoulders.
"Boy . . won't you come forward?" moaned a voice behind Nidal.
Even though most were against the strangers, there were still some in the town who hoped they would benefit as long as they cooperated.
"N-no, why . ."
"Why not, don't you want to fight? You should, the count needs us. So why not, why don't you want to protect us? You should!" he literally urged him to come forward.
A woman, pushing her way out of the crowd, stepped forward and glared angrily at the man.
"You, stranger, leave our sons here!" she shouted indignantly, her voice trembling with anger. "They certainly won't go to war for you!"
"Oh come on . . don't you have any respect for your new H. ." Before he could even say the word, he already had a fist in his face.
He crashed to the ground, drawing laughter from the others.
"Quiet back there!" shouted one of the soldiers in the stands.
"My God . . these people are so stubborn." The count muttered to himself, annoyed.
"All right . . we'll give you some time to think about this new requirement. But keep in mind that we will not be negotiated with. Don't let it happen like it did a few months ago." he threatened the citizens.
"We'll get our soldiers whether you like it or not," he added.
"You already have . . him. And now the youngest one too," the woman said tearfully.
The man hugged her: "We won't let that happen, I'll go. So that he can stay here, our eldest only had to leave because I was in the field!"
"It's . . not your fault," she replied.
Another man jostled the young man slightly, but his gesture was not hostile. With a hard but compassionate look, he said quietly:
"Boy... Put your hood up and get out of the marketplace. Preferably out of the city too."
The rest of his words were drowned out by the growing tumult that swept through the crowd like a rolling storm, and Nidal could only understand fragments of what he was trying to say.
But he did as the man told him.
He quickly pulled his hood over his head and disappeared into one of the narrow side alleys, away from the hustle and bustle of the market square. In the alley, he came across a group of women walking past with their children. Their gazes were anxious and their conversations were dominated by the same topic.
"What's the best way to hide them?" he heard one of the women ask, her voice full of concern. "So the strangers don't find them."
The others nodded silently as they hurriedly pushed on, hoping their children would not be discovered.