Blood Line: What if your family was the last left alive? (The Blood Line Trilogy Book 1)

by Michael Green

  ‘Nigel, I really feel we need a committee representing …’

  ‘What did you call me?’

  ‘I mean Your Lordship.’

  ‘You’ve called me Nigel twice since I issued my directive. That’s insubordination, and the penalty for insubordination is a week on the treadmill. It is fitting that the Steeds be the first family to drive the contraption,’ he said, addressing the hall at large. ‘They did, after all, build it.’ Then he turned his attention back to Duncan. ‘Now, do you have anything else to say before you are taken away to commence your punishment?’

  ‘Nigel … I mean Your Lordship … I feel that a committee representing all the families is essential to discuss major decisions regarding the community, and that a jury must also be convened to sit in judgement of all major crimes.’

  ‘Must, must,’ Nigel shouted, jumping to his feet. ‘And do you think that such a jury should sit in judgement on your own crime of sedition?’

  ‘Sedition?’

  ‘Yes, sedition. Now let me see.’ Nigel shuffled through his papers again. ‘Ah yes, Duncan Steed — crime of sedition. I will try this case now.’ He sat down again. ‘Duncan Steed, you are charged with the crime of sedition. How do you plead?’

  ‘Not guilty,’ Duncan said defiantly.

  Nigel thrust his head forward. ‘Not guilty, what?’

  ‘Not guilty, Your Lordship,’ Duncan said, a little less defiantly.

  ‘Duncan Steed, did you, on December the third, in the presence of several members of the community make the statement, and I quote …’ he paused and searched his papers for the precise wording, ‘“As soon as the spring growth starts, I’m going to take the Steeds out of the park. If any other family wants to come with me, you’re welcome.”’

  Duncan looked astonished. ‘Who told you?’

  ‘Never mind who told me. Did you say it?’

  ‘Well, yes, but …’

  ‘But nothing. You’re guilty of sedition.’

  ‘But it’s a retrospective crime,’ Diana shouted.

  ‘All my laws are retrospective. And if you’re not careful I’ll try a few retrospective cases relating to the Morgan family.’ The words were laced with threat. ‘Duncan Steed, you are guilty of sedition,’ Nigel said. He glowered down at the other members of the community. ‘Before I pass sentence, I want to remind you that my word is law. I will not be challenged. If there are any demonstrations, the culprits will be tried and punished.’ He paused for a moment, then said, ‘Sir Damian, Sir Jasper, if there’s any trouble when I pass sentence, or when that sentence is administered, you are to shoot the perpetrators. Do you understand?’

  ‘Yes, Your Lordship,’ they replied in unison.

  The members in the hall looked at Damian, who was busy ensuring that the belt of bullets that fed his machine gun was running freely.

  Nigel began speaking again. ‘Duncan Steed, you have been found guilty of sedition. I sentence you to a further week on the treadmill, making a total of two weeks. You will also be branded with the number one. Sir Greg, fetch the branding iron.’ Duncan’s daughter Andrea began to cry. ‘Stop that snivelling,’ barked Nigel.

  Greg pulled the branding iron from the embers. It glowed even brighter than Duncan’s red hair. The fact the iron was in the fire suggested that Duncan’s fate had already been decided. The message was clear: if anyone challenged Nigel’s authority, a heavy price would be exacted. Holding the red-hot branding iron aloft, Greg walked back to the dais.

  ‘Roll up your left sleeve,’ Nigel ordered. Duncan hesitated. ‘Roll it up!’ Nigel thundered. Obediently, Duncan rolled back the sleeve. ‘Your left arm is never to be covered again,’ Nigel said. ‘Your brand will remind everyone that you are a criminal. It will, I hope, also remind you that you have only another two strikes to go before you are executed. I suggest you do not, therefore, entertain any further thoughts of leaving the park.’ He paused for effect and then ordered: ‘Brand him.’

  For a moment Duncan considered resisting, but then out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of Jasper manoeuvring the machine gun in a practice sweep along one of the refectory tables. Anxious not to start a riot that would clearly result in loss of life, including no doubt his own, he meekly held out his arm.

  It was the first of many times that the members of the community would smell the pungent aroma of burning flesh, and hear the piercing screams of agony echoing around the Great Hall.

  ‘Take him to the treadmill,’ Nigel said. ‘The rest of you can go back to your quarters. Christmas is over.’

  With that he turned and walked through the heavy doors out of the Great Hall. Miles and Greg led Duncan across the courtyard to the waiting treadmill. Jasper and Damian stood at their machine guns watching the frightened families pick up their small children and hurry away to their quarters.

  39

  ‘So now you know how it all came about,’ Paul said as he finished his story.

  Mark nodded. ‘I’m sorry I’ve been so critical. I didn’t realise what you’ve all been up against.’

  ‘Nor me,’ Steven mumbled from between swollen lips.

  ‘Well, that’s what it’s been like. Every time anyone complains or steps out of line, things get worse. So everyone keeps their head down and is careful what they say, and who they say it to.’

  ‘Who informed on Duncan?’ Mark asked.

  Paul shook his head. ‘No idea. Half the community was there when he said he was going to leave the park. The suspicion has always fallen on Theresa in view of her relationship with Miles, but as it happens she wasn’t in the room at the time. We just don’t know who we can trust, and who we can’t.’

  ‘What’s the story with the fancy dress?’ Steven mumbled.

  Paul looked mystified by the question.

  ‘He means the Tudor clothing,’ Mark explained.

  ‘Ever since that Christmas lunch, the Chatfields have worn their Tudor jackets; Damian goes the whole hog and wears tights as well. The rest of us have been forced to wear the grey tunics. As time’s gone by they’ve slowly widened the gap between themselves and us. Silly things, like first we were forced to bow to them, next we were forbidden to walk on the grass in Lawn Court. Then all the women were forced to stop using their married names and became simply Greys, Daltons, Steeds or Morgans. The latest nonsense is Damian lobbying his father to let him have Luke as his page. At least Nigel’s stamped on that idea — for now, anyway.’

  ‘What did you get your strike for?’ Mark asked, pointing to the number one branded on Paul’s arm.

  ‘Stealing.’

  ‘You — stealing?’

  ‘A tomato was found in my quarters.’

  ‘You’re joking.’

  ‘No, we had a glut of tomatoes. I just picked one up without thinking as I was leaving the gardens. Next thing I knew, Jasper and Damian turned over our quarters and found it. I was accused of stealing, and after dinner the following evening — which is when Nigel holds his trials — I was found guilty and branded.’

  ‘I’m sorry to ask this again,’ Mark said, ‘but what happened to Mathew?’

  ‘Well,’ Paul said, pausing to catch his breath, his tic going into overdrive. ‘He got his first strike when he was caught in bed with one of Jennifer Steed’s daughters. They were always very careful but one day, out of the blue, Jasper and Damian caught them. The liaison had not been sanctioned by Nigel so they were both branded.’

  ‘It’s ridiculous,’ Mark fumed. ‘He should be encouraging liaisons. The community needs to build up its numbers.’

  ‘The Chatfield boys have a free rein of course. Miles is tied up with Theresa, Damian doesn’t seem to bother, but Jasper and Greg are always putting it about, or trying to.’

  ‘So that’s where all the babies have come from?’

  ‘Most of them.’

  ‘Yet none of the Chatfield boys has taken a wife?’

  ‘Not yet. Like I say, Miles is keen on Theresa, but Nigel won’t sanction a marriage
because both the babies she has had to him have been girls. In fact, all the babies fathered by the Chatfield boys have been girls.’

  ‘And Nigel wants a grandson to continue the Chatfield dynasty?’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘I’m amazed any girl would want anything to do with those creeps,’ Steven mumbled from between puffed-up lips.

  ‘You’d be surprised. Some families are desperate to arrange a marriage between their daughters and one of the Chatfields. They reckon it will lift their family higher in the pecking order.’

  ‘Is that why Allison’s with Nigel?’ Mark asked.

  ‘Nigel had his eye on her for ages, but she wouldn’t have a bar of him. Then all of a sudden she just capitulated. Something to do with Aunt Margaret, I’m guessing.’

  ‘Blackmail?’

  ‘I suspect so. Aunt Margaret needed drugs for her arthritis and the Chatfield brothers were always too busy to go looking for them. It was horrible to see her suffering. Anyway, as soon as Allison gave in and went to live with Nigel, Aunt Margaret’s lot improved. So I guess we can put two and two together.’

  ‘Have Nigel and Allison had any children?’

  ‘No. I don’t know why. She’s still young enough.’

  ‘So have any boys been born since the pandemic?’

  ‘Only one, Fergus and Jessica’s son Tommy. Theirs was also an unsanctioned liaison so they both got branded.’

  ‘What did Mathew get his other strikes for?’ Steven asked.

  ‘His second was for assault. He hit Damian.’

  ‘What caused the fight?’ Mark enquired.

  ‘I don’t know, he would never tell me.’

  ‘Doesn’t sound like your Mathew. You and he always had such a good rapport.’

  ‘That’s what I always thought. But last summer he became very withdrawn. I tried to talk to him, but he just wouldn’t open up. Then one night, Damian and Greg burst into our quarters and demanded to know where Mathew was. I didn’t know what they were talking about. Next thing I knew, the Chatfield brothers were heading out of the park with their dogs.’

  ‘He’d run away?’

  ‘Yes. He got as far as Farningham before they caught him.’

  ‘Did he tell you why he ran away?’

  ‘I never got to talk to him again,’ Paul said, his voice breaking. ‘They threw him into the cell in Cromwell’s Tower until the evening mealtime. At the trial it became clear he’d been planning to run away for some time. He was caught with a rucksack, compass, maps, a supply of food and extra clothing.’

  ‘And he never said why he’d run away?’

  ‘No. Nigel asked him why, but he refused to answer. It was as if he’d given up and wanted to die. He was found guilty of leaving the park, which earned him his third strike. They beheaded him in front of the whole community at first light the following morning.’

  Silence and sadness fell on the room. Later, Mark and Steven learned that Paul’s nervous tic had started when he was forced to witness his son’s beheading.

  Mark had been fond of Mathew. He’d always seemed a cheerful lad and the last person he would have expected to become withdrawn and moody.

  ‘Well, it’s time for me to turn in now,’ Paul said finally, breaking the silence. ‘The girls and the children will be in at the same time as last night. It’ll give you a rest, ready for tomorrow.’

  ‘I’ll be able to help tomorrow,’ Steven offered as Paul walked towards the door.

  Paul glanced back over his shoulder. ‘I don’t think so, lad. By the look of you, it’ll be a good week before you’re strong enough to help on the treadmill.’

  40

  But it didn’t take Steven a week to get better. By the fourth day his spirits were fully recovered and most of his strength had returned.

  On the sixth morning, as Mark was eating breakfast and watching Steven turn the treadmill, he looked up and said to his son, ‘Haver’s got to change dramatically before we bring Jane and the rest of the family here.’

  ‘You’re joking!’ Steven exploded. ‘There’s no way I’d let you bring them to this madhouse.’

  ‘Well … not as the situation is now.’

  ‘Never!’

  ‘This could be a great place in the right conditions.’

  ‘Not as I see it. In fact in most respects it’s nowhere near as good as Gulf Harbour.’

  ‘Haver’s got one major thing going for it — a population of forty-nine. We need to mix our blood.’

  ‘We’d be better off leaving Nigel and his sons here to rot in hell and taking everyone else back to Gulf Harbour.’

  ‘That’s not practical. We need to change the regime here.’

  ‘How? The Chatfields are as mad as hatters. Everyone’s scared stiff of them, and worse still, the other families spend all their time fighting with one another.’

  ‘Exactly. That’s the key. If the families were to unite, they could bring Nigel down.’

  ‘I doubt it, not with him and his sons controlling the guns. The only sensible thing to do is to plan our escape.’

  ‘We need to have a dollar each way. We should make plans to escape and to take with us as many people as we can accommodate on Archangel. However, at the same time, we should try to undermine Nigel’s authority and bring about change.’

  Steven nodded. ‘So what do we plan first?’

  ‘Our escape. We’ve got to be ready to get out of here in a hurry if anything goes wrong.’

  Steven began to wrestle with the problem immediately. ‘That isn’t going to be easy with an armed guard on the tower. I wouldn’t be surprised if they don’t have a machine gun up there. And we mustn’t forget the dogs either. It’s obvious they let the dogs loose in the park at night …’

  Suddenly, the treadmill no longer seemed such a chore.

  When Paul called in after dinner, Mark greeted him with the news, ‘Steven’s fit enough to take his turn. We’ll finish the rest of the punishment ourselves.’

  ‘Well … if you’re sure.’

  ‘We’re sure,’ Steven confirmed.

  ‘I’ll start watching out for any transgressions by the other families,’ Paul said. ‘With any luck I should be able to get you out of here well before the end of your punishment period.’

  ‘No, don’t do that,’ Mark said quickly.

  ‘What?’

  ‘We want to see the punishment out,’ Steven explained.

  ‘Have you both gone mad?’

  ‘No, we just don’t want you to inform on the other families.’

  ‘And another thing,’ Mark added, ‘tell them you won’t be reporting any offences in the meantime.’

  ‘But why?’

  ‘Since we intend to finish the punishment ourselves, they might as well enjoy being able to take the odd risk.’

  ‘They’d snitch on us as quick as look at us,’ Paul complained.

  ‘One day they might just remember that you didn’t report them, and turn a blind eye when you do something wrong.’

  ‘I doubt it.’

  ‘Well, you’ve got nothing to lose. Steven and I want to finish the punishment.’

  ‘They’ll think I’m mad … like you two.’

  ‘Let them think what they like.’

  ‘If you finish the punishment period without anyone else committing an offence there’ll be a foxhunt. I hope you don’t think I’m going to be chased around the park again.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Steven said. ‘I’ll be the fox.’

  ‘No you won’t, I want to be the fox,’ Mark said quickly.

  Paul shook his head and headed out the door. ‘You’re mad, both of you.’ He was even more confused when he heard Steven and Mark laughing as he walked around Lawn Court.

  Nigel and his sons, who were sitting in Flag Court drinking wine, also heard the laughter. The sound grated on their nerves. It was a long time since they’d heard such laughter, and never before had they heard anyone laughing in the Punishment Room.

  41
r />   Despite his misgivings, Paul obeyed Mark’s instructions. He told the other families that Mark and Steven were determined to complete their punishment and that consequently he would not be reporting any misdemeanours. Again, word got back to Nigel and his sons.

  One morning, as Paul was standing with other members of the community waiting for their daily work instructions, Damian marched over to challenge him.

  ‘Is it true your brother and that idiot son of his want to finish their punishment?’

  ‘That’s right, Sir Damian.’

  ‘Are they mad?’

  ‘I do believe so, Sir Damian.’

  ‘Are you being insolent?’

  ‘Not at all, Sir Damian. I think they’re both acting like madmen,’ Paul said, smiling.

  ‘Well, you can wipe that smile off your face. We’ll have a foxhunt on Sunday.’

  ‘Yes, they’re looking forward to that too, Sir Damian.’

  There was laughter from the other members of the community. It was the first time Damian had heard so many people laughing at once, and he wasn’t sure whether they were laughing at Mark and Steven or at him.

  ‘Smart-arse Kiwis! I’ll teach them a lesson they’ll never forget,’ he said as he walked away.

  On Sunday afternoon the whole community, with the exception of Cheryl, who had relieved Mark and Steven on the treadmill, were assembled in front of the West Gate. Nigel led his four sons out. Each of the brothers held a dog straining on a leash. The dogs were obviously looking forward to the sport as much as their masters.

  On the first foxhunt they’d staged, none of the dogs had been muzzled, which had resulted in the human foxes being savagely mauled. The brothers were not unduly sympathetic, but the loss of labour while the victims recovered prompted Nigel to insist the dogs be muzzled in future.

  Paul was alarmed when he saw that Damian’s dog, Killer, was unmuzzled. Damian’s promise to teach the Kiwis a lesson was ringing in his ears.

  ‘That dog should be muzzled,’ he said, looking to Nigel, hoping he would enforce the ruling. Nigel ignored him.