Blood Roots: Are the roots strong enough to save the pandemic survivors? (16 page)

One o’clock passed, then two o’clock. Eventually Steven gave up
hope that his uncle would come. But at two-thirty he heard a light tapping on the door of the cell. Everyone else was asleep.

He gently removed Penny’s arm from around his waist and moved across the cell to the metal hatch set in the door. It was loose fitting so he hoped he could hear his uncle speak without having to open it and wake the others.

‘Is that you, Uncle Paul?’ Steven whispered.

‘Yes.’

‘How’s Cheryl?’

Paul’s whispers were even softer than his own and Steven was forced to put his ear hard against the hatch to catch the words.

‘She’s in labour, but she’s doing well, Bridget’s looking after her. I can’t be long. I’ve promised to be with her when the baby’s born.’ His voice was laced with fear. There was a curfew after dark and he had taken a great risk. If any of the Chatfield brothers came up the stairs and caught him he would be in real trouble. Breaking curfew could cost him his life.

‘I need to know what’s happened while we’ve been away. Particularly how Nigel died and what’s gone on between Jasper and Damian,’ Steven explained.

In hurried whispers, Paul outlined the events of the past thirty months at Haver, commencing with the immediate aftermath of Steven and Mark’s escape, along with the members of the Haver community they had taken with them.

‘I’ve never witnessed anything like Nigel’s anger over Miles being killed during your escape. He executed Aunt Margaret for helping you. That led to a revolt and the Chatfield brothers massacring four of the adults.

‘After that, things went from bad to worse — Nigel made Diana set up an escort agency to service him and his sons. The sexual abuse and rape was terrible …’ Paul faltered for moment. ‘… and it even included the teenage girls. It only ended when Diana managed to poison the Chatfields’ food to stupefy them.’

‘So how did Nigel die?’

Paul described the horrifying details of how Diana had drugged
Nigel, clamped his penis in the woodworking vice in Duncan’s workshop, and wired the vice so it couldn’t be opened. Then she gave him a knife, set the workshop on fire and left him to carry out his own amputation in order to escape.

‘Even then he didn’t make it,’ Paul continued. ‘Diana locked the door. He died of smoke inhalation. By the way,’ Paul whispered, ‘don’t tell anyone the full details.’

‘You mean the Chatfield brothers don’t know?’

‘Only Duncan, Jennifer and I know. Duncan wasn’t meant to tell Jennifer, he let it slip. I wasn’t going to tell you either.’

‘So what happened to Nigel’s body after that?’

‘We threw it in the rubbish pit with the other garbage.’

Steven’s heart sank further. ‘Poor Allison.’

‘Then Diana arranged a trial for the three brothers. Jasper was tried for the murder of Warren Dalton, Greg for the murder of Cameron Steed.’ Paul took a deep breath. ‘Damian was tried for the murder of Aunt Margaret, Charlene Dalton, Melanie Morgan and …’ Suddenly Paul was crying.

‘Take your time,’ Steven whispered gently.

It was more than two minutes before Paul could force the words out. ‘… and for the rape and murder of Mathew …’ His voice strengthened a little. ‘Jasper had the courage to admit his crime — he was prepared to die. Greg cried but also confessed. Damian denied all charges at first. But then when Diana threatened …’ Paul broke down again and Steven waited patiently for him to recover. ‘She threatened to show a video of what he had done to Mathew … so Damian pleaded guilty to all charges to stop it being shown. Even Jasper and Greg were disgusted with Damian.’ He sighed with relief having completed the segment of the story concerning the death of his son Mathew and almost seemed to enjoy relating the following events.

‘Duncan was appointed chief executioner and Diana made the brothers watch him practise his axemanship skills. All the kids were there too — cheering when Duncan sliced the turnips in half, booing when he missed. He kept missing, he just couldn’t aim straight.’ But
Paul’s light-heartedness didn’t last long. ‘At the execution, Duncan lost his bottle and Diana offered to commute Greg’s sentence to life with hard labour if he’d execute Damian. He didn’t have the bottle either. But Jasper did.’

‘You mean Jasper volunteered to execute Damian?’

‘Damn right he did. And he meant it too. He said Damian deserved to die for what he’d done to Mathew and …’

There was a noise in the stairwell. Paul and Steven froze. ‘Granddad, Granddad, Aunty Bridget says you must come now, the baby’s on its way.’ It was the voice of Paul’s granddaughter Mary-Claire.

‘I’ll tell you the rest of the story some other time,’ Paul whispered as he scurried away.

Steven slumped down on the floor. He felt numb. The loss of innocent lives as the result of his escape filled him with sadness. His escape had been prompted by his own imminent execution, ordered by Nigel, who didn’t know — or didn’t want to know — that it was Damian’s attempted drugging and rape of Steven that had led to Damian being wounded in the ensuing scuffle. It sounded as if things had gone from bad to worse in his absence.

To Steven’s dismay Damian, rather than Greg, supervised the delivery of food and beer the following morning. Susan had also been relieved of her duties; the buckets were carried in by Jennifer. In her mid-fifties, she was the youngest of Steven’s father’s generation and the only one who didn’t look older than her age.

Luke walked towards his cousin to embrace her but Damian immediately ordered him to keep his distance. ‘This isn’t a family reunion. Just grab the piss pot.’

‘How long are we going to be kept here?’ Luke asked.

‘Probably till after the execution.’ A smile broke out on his face. ‘Or should I say executions?’

‘I want to see His Lordship,’ Steven said.

‘Who cares what you want?’

‘Your brother will care. I’ve got a proposal for him.’

‘What’s your proposal? I’ll pass it on.’

‘It’s between him and me. Just tell him I wish to see him.’

‘I’m not your messenger boy.’

‘I think you’d better carry this message, otherwise His Lordship will get very upset.’

‘Don’t threaten me — unless you want to die slowly. I’ll be swinging the axe, remember.’

Penny struggled to hold back her tears.

‘I want to see His Lordship,’ Steven repeated.

‘Tough. You can’t.’

‘You’d better tell him.’

‘Like I said, don’t threaten me. This time tomorrow you’ll be dead.’

The tears flowed down Penny’s cheeks. Lee was frightened and started crying too.

‘Do you think he’ll pass the message on?’ Luke asked once Damian and Jennifer had left.

‘I’m sure he will,’ Steven said confidently. But he wasn’t sure. In fact, he was surprised when Damian returned after lunch and beckoned him out of the cell.

‘So how did you manage to get a message to my brother if I didn’t pass it on?’ Damian asked as he followed Steven down the stairs.

‘That’s my business.’

As Steven was asking himself the same question, Damian’s boot slammed into his back and he tumbled down the spiral staircase. Bruised, grazed, winded and bleeding, he pulled himself slowly onto his knees. He looked up at Damian who was looming over him, pistol at the ready.

‘That was a nasty fall you had there. You say anything wrong to His Lordship and Penny will be the next person to fall down those stairs. And I promise you, she won’t survive. Now get up.’

It took Steven all his grit to get to his feet, stumble across Flag Court and drag himself up the Grand Staircase to the ballroom. Jasper sat on the sofa waiting for him.

‘He tripped on the stairs,’ Damian explained as he followed Steven into the room. He hurried past his limping prisoner and sat down on a chair a little way from his brother, leaning back with his hands clasped across the back of his neck.

Jasper turned to his brother. ‘Take the rest of the prisoners to their respective family quarters. Give them ten minutes to sort out their accommodation and then get them to work.’

‘You’re releasing them?’

There was annoyance in Jasper voice. ‘I am.’

‘I’ll do it straight after this meeting,’ Damian said.

Jasper’s voice was steely hard. ‘You’ll do it now.’

Damian opened his mouth to protest, but then apparently thought better of it. Jasper turned his attention back to Steven as Damian silently mouthed, ‘Watch what you say.’

‘And by the way, Damian,’ Jasper said, without looking in his brother’s direction, ‘just make sure no other prisoner trips down the stairs — we need all the labour we can get. Close the door as you leave.’

He waited until Damian had stalked out of the room and slammed the door before speaking again. ‘Now, I haven’t got all day, I’ve got an execution to arrange. What’s this proposal Jennifer’s jabbering about?’

When, half an hour later, Steven was returned to his cell, he found himself alone in an empty room, an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach. He had tried to press the right buttons in making his proposal to Jasper but His Lordship had maintained a poker face. Jasper had asked few questions and said little other than informing Steven that he would announce his decision at the evening meal.

Deep down, Steven suspected Jasper’s intention was still to have him killed. His fears were confirmed when, through a peephole in the shutters, he saw Duncan and Paul stagger into Flag Court carrying the heavy block used for executions. Greg followed carrying the long medieval axe.

If it had been Damian supervising the work party Steven wouldn’t have been quite so worried: Damian could have prepared for Steven’s execution of his own volition. But Greg never did anything on his own initiative. Jasper must have ordered him to make the preparations.

He thought he could see baby David in a small enclosure in the
corner of Flag Court that contained the babies and small children. There seemed to be so many of them. He hoped that Susan had somehow managed to lose Allison’s baby in the crowd. From peepholes on the other side of the room he saw Penny, Luke and Lee raking grass cuttings and leaves from the bowling green in Lawn Court.

He worried all afternoon, wondering what else he could have said to Jasper. At four o’clock Duncan struggled into Flag Court carrying a heavy sack which he dumped beside the execution block. Damian strolled in a little later and looked up towards Steven’s cell before commencing his performance. He stood one turnip at a time on the block and swung the axe, chopping them in half. Sometimes he missed. Thanks to Paul’s earlier revelations, at least Steven knew who Damian had learned the theatre from.

Later, Steven watched the families make their way to the Great Hall for dinner. Everyone peered up at the shuttered windows as they walked. Penny, Paul, Cheryl and Bridget were in the last group; they too looked up anxiously. Bridget and Cheryl were each carrying a baby wrapped in a shawl. Steven saw that Bridget’s hair had been shorn so short she almost looked bald. With her limp she looked a pathetic figure. Cheryl’s tunic was still fastened up to the neck to hide the scars that covered her body. Her lips were tight set, hiding the tooth decay that had developed during her years imprisoned at Haver.

A gaggle of children followed. Steven pondered how fertile his branch of the family was and wondered who had fathered Cheryl and Bridget’s babies. He also realised how hard life in Haver still was. Cheryl had only had her baby in the early hours of the morning yet she was walking slowly to dinner in the Great Hall. There were no concessions for new mothers at Haver.

As the family passed under the arch into Flag Court, Penny saw the axe and block. Steven could hear her wailing from his cell and watched as his Uncle Paul tried to comfort her. Damian and Greg had heard the commotion too. Damian strode across the courtyard, stood another turnip on the block and split it in two while Greg helped Paul drag the distraught Penny through the entranceway leading to the Great Hall.

Steven slumped onto the floor. If only he hadn’t been so obstinate. If only he had listened to his father’s warnings about the perils of returning to England. Why hadn’t he been more cautious? Then he became angry. Why had Paul hoisted the flags if it wasn’t safe to return?

His gloomy thoughts were interrupted by Damian and Greg entering the cell. Damian had his pistol drawn, and Greg carried two short lengths of rope.

‘Hands behind your back,’ Damian snapped. Steven knew it was pointless to resist. He put his hands behind his back and waited as Greg tied his wrists together.

Damian wore a full dinner suit. If the circumstances weren’t so tragic, it would have been farcical.

‘Where are we off to?’ Steven asked.

Damian smirked. ‘
I’m
off to enjoy my dinner.
You’re
off to wait for my brother to confirm your sentence. Hobble his feet too,’ he instructed Greg.

‘He’ll never get down the staircase.’

‘Tough,’ Damian said.

Greg didn’t tie the hobble too tight but even so, Steven was forced to jump down the steps like a kangaroo. Despite the fact he knew he was going to die, his brain wouldn’t allow him to simply fall down the stairs. His legs ached painfully by the time he reached the foot of the staircase; his muscles had seized up and he could no longer walk. Damian and Greg grabbed his arms and dragged him across Flag Court.

They hauled him into the Great Hall and stood him in front of the dais facing Jasper. Steven caught a glimpse of his reflection in the silver tureen standing on the table in front of him. He wished he’d used some of the beer to clean his face after his earlier fall, but he’d had no way of knowing how bad he looked. There were angry mutterings from the refectory table behind him.

‘Get on with your meals!’ Damian shouted. He sat down, picked up his fork and skewered a piece of rare steak from a silver platter on the table. Putting it on his plate, he looked Steven squarely in the eye
and took his knife between his fingers and let it arc down onto the steak. To emphasise his point he tilted his plate so Steven could see where the blood had run out of the meat.

Jasper sat on the throne with Virginia one side of him and Damian on the other. The two outside seats were taken by Amy and Beatrice. Jasper, like Damian, was in full dinner-suit regalia. Virginia and her daughters wore exquisite evening dresses. Greg had been dispatched to sentry duty.

Feeling was returning to Steven’s legs, so he shuffled to one side so he could see the reflection of the hall behind him in the silver tureen. When he had been taken through the Great Hall for his initial interrogation he had wondered why there was a tablecloth at the end of the refectory table closest to the dais. Now he understood. There were three well-dressed small children on the end of the table, one of whom he recognised as Virginia’s daughter Hazel, so he assumed the other two were also hers — or her elder daughters’ children. They were being looked after by another member of the Steed family, Rebecca. She, like everyone else at the refectory table, was dressed in a grey tunic. It was obvious that only Virginia, her children and grandchildren had high status among the Steed family.

Steven stood waiting for the meal to end — waiting for the uncertainty of not knowing what was going to happen to him to be over. He felt totally helpless. He had presented his proposal to Jasper and had no plan B. His Lordship was staring at him, as were others at the table. Only Beatrice showed any sign of compassion.

He heard the sound of one of the wooden benches behind him grating on the stone floor as people stood up.

‘Sit down,’ Jasper growled.

‘We were just going to get the pudding, Your Lordship,’ Susan explained.

‘Sit down.’

In the reflection of the tureen Steven saw Susan and Jennifer hastily regain their seats.

‘Before we enjoy our pudding,’ Jasper said, ‘I will pass sentence on
Steven Grey.’ Grey was the name Mark and Paul Chatfield’s families were given at the Haver community; only the brothers could be called Chatfield. The room was quiet. Damian sat smirking, arms crossed.

‘Steven Grey,’ Jasper continued, ‘my father passed the death sentence on you over two years ago. Since that sentence, you have committed further crimes, including escaping from Haver, being an accessory to the murder of my brother Miles —’ Steven’s jaw dropped; he hadn’t expected to be accused of that ‘— and aiding the kidnapping of my father’s wife Allison.’

‘He didn’t kidnap her,’ Luke shouted.

‘One more word from you and you’ll end up with the same sentence as Steven,’ Jasper warned.

Steven tensed, praying Luke would keep quiet. He gritted his teeth. So Jasper had made up his mind, and was hell-bent on revenge. Steven suspected that some of Jasper’s craving for retribution had its roots in events that had occurred while Steven wasn’t even at Haver — the Chatfields’ treatment at the hands of Diana. It didn’t matter. No one could say or do anything that would make a difference. His fate was sealed.

Satisfied he would not be interrupted again, Jasper said, ‘Steven Grey, before I pass sentence, do you have anything else to say?’

Steven looked hard at Jasper as he uttered the words, ‘No, Your Lordship. I said everything that needed to be said this afternoon. I can only call upon your sense of justice and your knowledge of the truth.’

‘Very well,’ Jasper said. He put his hand in his pocket and drew out a black silk handkerchief. As he lifted the handkerchief towards his head, a baby started crying. In the silence, the sound echoed loudly off the walls. It was a noise that in days past might have infuriated passengers travelling on a long-haul jet, or diners eating in an expensive restaurant. Today it infuriated Jasper.

‘Whose is that baby?’ he yelled. There was no reply. ‘Whose is that baby?’ he thundered again, glaring towards Paul and his family.

‘It’s yours, Your Lordship.’ The voice was barely audible.

‘What did you say?’

‘It’s one of your babies that’s crying, Your Lordship.’ The voice was a little more resolute now.

‘One of my babies!’

‘Yes, Your Lordship.’

Cheryl stood up, the baby she was holding wrapped in the shawl uttering a loud cry. She nodded to Bridget, who placed a second baby in her free arm. Then, cradling the two infants, she walked towards the dais.  ‘I had twins, Your Lordship, early this morning.’

‘And they’re mine?’

‘You know very well they’re yours, Your Lordship.’

The baby, comforted by the gentle rocking of Cheryl’s body, had stopped crying. Steven noticed the look of anger on Virginia’s face. He also noticed the look of concern on Amy and Beatrice’s faces.

‘What sex are they?’ Jasper demanded roughly.

‘You have a beautiful daughter, Your Lordship, and a handsome son.’

‘A son, I have a son!’ There was triumph in Jasper’s voice. He looked at Damian. The look of thunder on his brother’s face matched that on Virginia’s.

Cheryl handed Jasper one of the babies. He looked inside the nappy. Then triumphantly he stood and held the child aloft. ‘I name my son Prince Nigel in memory of my father. And may he one day be as great a ruler of Haver as my dear father was.’

There was silence.

Then Susan began clapping, nodding vigorously towards the other members of her family. Slowly they joined in until the room was ringing with the sound of clapping.