Midsummer Lights
A storm pummeled the nation in the early morning, the Lord of the Upper Yard riding his carriage above the domain of the mortals down below. Many a man and woman woke up to the rain drumming on their roofs in the grey night, and even those who would not wake up kept turning around in their beds, suffering from fitful sleep and strange dreams.
In the morning, though, the clouds withdrew east and as the sun rose over a summery land, only an everpresent mist was what remained of the storm, a mist that with the bright summer sun created a sfumato-like effect on the coast. The air was clear and fresh, good to breathe, thought the citizens that stepped out of the front doors of their homes in the morning, even in the city. The glorious morning wept away the shadows of the tortured night and all was again well.
All was better than well, for today was Midsummer.
Before noon, you could still see men and women go about their business on the market square and the streets of the city centre, but soon, sooner than most days, the matrons picking up supplies with their serving girls and the servants putting together the goods listed by their masters vacated the markets. Nobody in the city worked past two in the afternoon this day. There was an expectant feeling in the air, a feeling of a coming celebration, a certain sense of happy holiness in the day.
At three in the afternoon, the banks of the river running through the city centre were all but empty. The citizens had mostly retired to their homes, country houses and summer villas, some of the wealthier families even in the Archipelago, taken there by steam yachts or small modern motor boats. Next to a stony bridge spanning the river, a bearded, one-armed veteran in his tattered blue and white uniform fed the pigeons with bits of stale bread, a single medal on his chest and an unfathomable smile on his face. On the Western Long Street, a line of young soldiers marched towards the railway station, their more modern military clothes slightly dusty, led by a smart-looking officer on his horse, a sabre on his hip.
At a crossing the soldiers stopped, and as if by magic, a group of girls of maybe 16 appeared, threading summer flowers on the young warriors' uniforms and putting them on their rifle barrels. The incident was was soon interrupted by a stout older woman, the chaperone of one of the girls, coming to put the wayward maidens in order.
” - Eyes forward, boys! Mind your step, now”, ordered the smart young officer with a smile as his men could not help but steal glances at the blushing girls in their summer dresses. The troop of soldiers marched on in the warming summer afternoon, following the steam tractors hauling artillery that had left the barracks before them.
Some kilometers outside the city, a lone autocarriage made its way across a countryside in bloom. It was one of those newfangled vehicles with explosion engines, much faster and lighter than the older steam carriages but also a lot more expensive. The vehicle passed a long avenue lined with venerable oak trees on both sides, closing in to the estate by the sea. Finally, it arrived to a large but plain steel gate, marked with an official coat of arms.
Two soldiers in grey uniforms approached the autocarriage, noticing immediately that it had a State Security registration plate on it. The driver opened his window.
” - Good day, gentlemen”, he said, flipping open a FSS warrant card, and pushing it out of the window, his own face in the shadow.
” - Detective Kaukovalta. Here to check the security arrangements for the event”, he said coolly.
The ranking soldier nodded and made as to salute the FSS officer.
” - Go right in, ah, Detective. Some of your people arrived already two hours ago, a veritable convoy of them in fact, led by some Inspector with a beard. You'll find them at the main building.”
The man in the vehicle thanked the soldiers with a nod, wished them happy Midsummer and drove his contraption in through the opening gates.
That was surprisingly easy, the man thought. There were beads of sweat on his forehead, and not entirely due to the warm summer sun. His right hand went automatically to touch the revolver he carried in a shoulder holster below his suit jacket.
On he drove, towards the parking area before the buildings that made the state-owned summer estate, centered on a stony mansion in the style of a modern fantasy castle, surrounded by a large, meticulously kept ornamental garden, full of colours and scents in the sun. People went to and fro, servants, gardeners, security personnel, members of household staff in their slightly oldfashioned uniforms. The man parked the autocarriage and got out, checking his bowtie and putting on his fedora. He then looked carefully at the other FSS vehicles in the area. There were several here, including one used for carrying detainees.
As there would be. Everything the man had told him had panned out so far.
In under half an hour, the main part of the guests would start arriving, the man remembered. He would have to find himself a good vantage point before that, to see what happened in the area and who went where. He should also try to investigate the outlying buildings. And above all, he would have to steer clear of the FSS personnel crawling around the estate. There might be trouble if they got a too close a look at him. Glancing at the large blue and white flag flying above the main building, with its griffin rampant clutching a large black cross, the man made his way past a fountain deeper into the gardens, in a determined but deliberately leisurely pace.
When the first guests started arriving, lines of girls in traditional dresses were waiting for them, handing out flowers to the women in summer dresses with curtseys. There was a band in the garden as well, with harmonicas and kanteles, playing traditional tunes while non-alcoholic drinks were handed over to the guests, many of them representing the higher echelons of the government and state apparatus. There were many members of the military officer cadres here, generals and colonels in their grey uniforms with blue and white details, ceremonial swords and all. And there were the people from the Church, of course. There were many men in the dark uniform of a Pastor among the guests, presided over by the State Pastor himself as no such celebration would have been complete without the presence of the thin rake of a man in black, with his dignified grey hair and sharp, intelligent eyes.
The man with the FSS credentials investigated the area around the garden surreptiously, but could not get any wiser. It was now easier to mingle among the people who started to fill the gardens, at least, as a grey suit and a fedora were not exactly a rare form of dress among the summery crowd.
Inside the main building, a phone ringed. It was picked up by a servant, and in a minute an older, bearded man in a dark suit was holding the receiver.
” - In the area? Are you sure that is what he said?”, the man asked the disembodied voice of a policeman in the other end of the line. Finally, the man put down the receiver, to pick it up again and to call the main gate.
After this second call, he summoned his top lieutenant, closed the door and addressed the man in a low voice.
” - The man is here, he has adopted the identity of a detective.”
The younger man nodded. He knew what to do.
As the early evening started to cool off, it was soon time for the main event. Food was laid out on long tables decorated with many kinds of summer flowers to form a seasonal buffet. Servants, mostly young maidens, stood by. A breeze from the sea brought a salty smell, as well as some relief to the afternoon that had started to be uncomfortably hot for some.
The man in the grey suit and fedora was growing frustrated. He had now come to the conclusion that what he was looking for was in the main building, and that he would have to gain access there. The main festivities would probably give him an opening when everyone was preoccupied with something else, and he could sneak in to continue his investigations.
In the garden the band started up a familiar tune, now supported by military brass horns, and from the main entrance of the large stony mansion, a tall man in a dark suit approached the gardens along a route marked with entire small birch trees, with several men and women in tow. It was the State Elder, the people in the garden realized, the host of this evening's festivities. He walked slowly towards the end of the path marked with the birch trees, nodding to people with a benevolent smile as he went.
Finally, he reached a small podium flanked with yet more birch trees and flowers, young men and women in traditional dresses standing as a honour guard next to it. What followed was a small speech about the meaning of Midsummer and the traditions the day involved in the national culture. Finally, before the buffet would be opened, there was one thing to do, the State Elder reminded the guests with a smile, nodding towards the big, traditional, as of yet unlit bonfire built in the middle of the garden, just waiting for someone to put the fire to it.
While the State Elder spoke, the man in the fedora slowly made his way towards the side entrance to the main building, ostensibly keeping his eyes on the podium like everyone else. It was only when the main doors again opened and another group of people came out that he stopped in his tracks and fixed his attention to the woman walking down the path to the garden.
It can't be.
A group made of several girls in provincial costumes and a young woman in a white dress had come out of the mansion and was walking down towards the podium. The beautiful young woman's hair was covered in a wreath of different summer flowers, and she was carrying a burning torch. On her face was a goofy smile, while the looks on the faces of the girls around her appeared much more nervous, strained somehow.
It can't be. No.
” - It is a great honour too light the Midsummer bonfire”, said the State Elder on his podium, ”and this day will be a lot better remembered than many other Midsummer celebrations, because this day the Fennians will light up so many fires. We are lighting up the soul of a nation, no less, we are lighting up a struggle, and we are lighting up a beginning and an end.
The man in the fedora snapped out of his shock. His first impulse was to run towards the woman in the white dress.
Ansa.
Before he had a chance to move, though, he was grabbed from the behind by two men. When he tried to shake himself free, he found out that his hands were held very professionally in a vise-like grip.
” - Detective Kaukovalta, I presume”, one of the men said, in a gruff but quiet voice, ”or should I say Mr. Paloniemi?”
The woman in white walked towards the State Elder, and confusedly handed him the torch.
” - What have you done to her?”, the man in the fedora asked the men holding him, knowing that he had no way to escape now.
” - Oh, she is quite out of this world – sedated to a fare-thee-well”, a third, older man behind him said.
” - I can assure you, she is also as good as dead – see?”
Down by the podium, the State Elder handed the woman a cup, from which she drank deeply and was then led to the big pile of wood. Four sturdy servants in traditional costumes raised her up, and she was then secured to a wooden cross. She did not do anything to oppose it all, and as soon as she was tied up, it appeared she was already asleep.
” - She won't feel a thing – you, on the other hand...”
As the State Elder lowered the torch and the band started up the traditional Bonfire Song, to which the people present solemnly joined, led by the powerful baritone of the State Pastor, the man with a tear in the corner of his eye could feel a syringe pushed to his arm.
” - Sweet dreams, Mr. Paloniemi”, the voice of the older man said.
At the same time, numerous other bonfires were lit up across the nation, to signify national celebrations and something much more as well. For soon the military officers present would leave the State Elder's party and attend to their important duties. In the night, while the land celebrated, Nordic and Saxon troopships emptied their cargoes in different ports, trains with men and materiel made their way towards east and troops were marched into position for the invasion to begin. The State of Fennia and its allies were going to war against the heathen East, for Truth, Justice and Faith.
It was to be a new dawn to the Fennian people and nation. In the words of the poet Aimo Lahti, that night the fires of wrath were lit up across the continent. And it would be decades before they were put out again.
[filler]
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