by Helen Brain
“This way, Miss den Eeden,” Major Zungu snaps, rapping the bars with his revolver.
I clutch the empty necklace with my free hand. Please, Goddess, I pray silently. I’ll do anything. Just save me.
There’s a pause. The voices of the Poladion family echo down the corridors: Cassie sobbing, Evelyn screeching ugly words, Hal calling me, ordering me to get him out. The baby starts to cry, a thin wail that shatters me.
Only Lucas is silent. Head drooping in the corner of his cell, he sits as if he is already dead, waiting to be buried.
I’m too scared to move, terrified of hearing that cell door clang shut behind me, of being locked up away from Isi, from Greenhaven and Micah and Aunty Figgy and everyone I love.
“This way,” Major Zungu’s voice is rising.
Mr Frye looks back. “Come along, dear,” he says.
“Don’t let them. Please, please, Mr Frye, for my mother’s sake, my great-aunt … I know I’ve made you angry. I can change. I –”
But Major Zungu isn’t pushing me into the last cell. He swings the door shut and stands aside as the guards open the iron gates.
“The general does not appreciate being kept waiting,” he says, pointing to the stairs.
This can only mean one thing: I’ve got to appear in front of the council again. They’re going to execute me.
I grip Mr Frye’s hand as we start the climb back up the dark stone stairway.
“Please,” I whisper, “protect me. It wasn’t my fault the High Priest died, I swear it.”
He squeezes my fingers. ‘There, there, Ebba,” he murmurs. “It’s nothing to worry about.”
Easy for him to say – it’s not him being summoned to the council chamber.
“Just remember you are extremely wealthy,” he says quietly as we reach the top of the stairs and turn down a long passageway leading deeper into the mountainside. “Wealth is power. Use it. Bargain with them.”
Me? Power? I’m a sixteen-year-old girl up against the general and his whole army. I’ve enraged every citizen in Table Island, and the people in Boat Bay don’t like me any better. I’ve no family except a half-brother who hates me and a half-sister I’ve never met. And I’ve only just learnt to read. I’d hardly call that power.
Major Zungu stops in front of the white door that leads to the council chamber. I feel like a hen waiting to have its neck wrung.
He opens the door and gestures with his huge hand. “After you.”
My heart is scudding. I can’t go in there. I look around, back down the passage – there must be a way out.
“Come on, Ebba,” Mr Frye says firmly. “No dillydallying.”
He puts his hand in the small of my back and propels me into the council room.
A middle-aged man is sitting at the table and looks up as we enter. I’ve seen him before. Is he Oliver’s father, Mr Adams? Cassie and Hal’s friend Oliver, who came to lunch at Greenhaven?
“Stand here, in the centre,” Major Zungu orders.
I go to the spot he points out and stand there quaking, too scared to look up.
Mr Frye and Mr Adams turn expectantly as footsteps ring in the passage. A door opens and Captain Atherton calls, “All rise.”
Two guards come in first, followed by the general. Everyone salutes. The general takes his seat between Major Zungu and Captain Atherton, and the guards stand behind him, with faces of stone.
Captain Atherton leans over and whispers in his ear. They glance at me then carry on muttering to each other. They’re discussing how to kill me …
Finally the general speaks. “Miss den Eeden, are you ready to take the oath?”
“The … the oath?”
“The oath of allegiance. You acted bravely and loyally by assassinating a corrupt leader. Without thinking of your own safety, you brought about the downfall of the previous regime. As a reward you are to be given a place on the Table Island Council.”
My mouth drops open. “I … I didn’t kill the High Priest,” I stutter. “It was an accident.”
“Repeat after me,” the general continues, my words sliding off him like oil on water. “I, Ebba den Eeden …”
What am I supposed to do? I can’t sit on the council. Micah will be furious. What will Leonid and Jasmine say?
“Do I have to do this?” I stammer.
The general stops talking and stares at me with those cold, slate-blue eyes. They drill into me like he can see inside my skull. I twist my robe, weighing up the alternatives.
Mr Frye turns and smiles encouragingly, nodding his head. I remember his words: Wealth is power. Use it.
What if they are holding Micah somewhere else? What if the general decides to arrest Letti and Fez? And the two thousand people still in the bunker? It’ll be much easier to get them out if I’m helping to make the decisions. Surely Jasmine and Leonid and Micah will understand?
“Sorry,” I say, lifting my right hand and trying to look calm. “I’m ready.”
“Repeat after me: I, Ebba den Eeden, do solemnly swear to obey General Magnus de Groot, president and supreme ruler of the Republic of Table Island City, and to serve the Council to the best of my ability. I will be loyal, diligent and untiring in the execution of my duty.”
I mumble the words after him. Am I making the biggest mistake of my life?
When I finish the oath, he gestures to the empty chair between Mr Frye and Mr Adams. I sit down, and the general, Major Zungu and Captain Atherton face me, unsmiling.
“Item one on the agenda,” Captain Atherton says, opening a leather-bound book with a thud.
“Gentlemen … and lady … we are in a crisis situation!” General de Groot says. He pauses to let his words sink in, and then thumps the table with his fist. “A crisis situation,” he repeats. “We are running out of food. The reserves in the colony are decreasing daily. Without that produce, there is nothing to trade, and no way to feed the army or the citizens. We have to find a way to produce enough food to keep our Islanders fed, or we will face rebellion. Mr Adams, the Syndicate produces grain on the mainland. Can you increase your yield? Can we import more into Table Island?”
“Unfortunately not,” Mr Adams says. “We don’t have enough water resources.”
“Hmmm.” The general steeples his fingers and then fixes his stare on me. “What is your opinion, Miss den Eeden?” He’s a big, thick-set man, and his muscles bulge beneath the sleeves of his uniform, reminding me not so subtly that he is in charge. “Can Greenhaven produce more food?”
His strange eyes shine like polished steel and I stare back at him, thoughts whirling in my mind. Is this why he wanted me on the council – for Greenhaven’s produce? And while I have to grow more to feed the citizens and the army, the people I grew up with in the bunker are starting to go hungry?
“I … er … I …”
“Let me answer that,” Mr Frye says with a smile. “Greenhaven has plenty of empty land to expand. However, labour remains a problem. Without sufficient labourers, no expansion is possible. Isn’t that right, Ebba?”
Suddenly I understand what he meant earlier about my power. Here is the general, the most important person on the island, in the whole world, and he’s asking me to help him!
Now’s my chance to get what I want.
“Well, General,” I begin. My voice sounds squeaky in the big, marble-lined chamber. “We could produce more food, but as Mr Frye says, we don’t have enough staff.”
I take a deep breath and hope he doesn’t shout at me because of what I’m about to say.
“There are two thousand people in the colony. If you released them from the slavery that the High Priest kept them in, you’d have a powerful workforce. And I could give some a place to work on Greenhaven.”
He snorts. “Ebba, Ebba, such an idealist. You’re still so young.”
He and Major Zungu smile at me like I’m an indulged two-year old. I feel my face going red.
“Just tell me,” he says, “how would we feed and clothe and
house them? It would be cruel to release them with no preparation for life. The colony is all they’ve ever known – they’ve been fed three times a day, provided for. There’s not enough to go around as it is in this dangerous world. It would be dog eat dog.” He chortles. “And once they start breeding …”
But I know my idea is a good one. I eye Major Zungu and Captain Atherton, and then address the general.
“You can’t keep them there indefinitely. You’ve already told us they’re running out of food and growing medium, thanks to the High Priest’s corruption.” Micah would be proud of me for speaking out, but I break into a sweat.
The general stares at me, his eyes narrowed and hard. Have I gone too far? But then he sits back and stares into middle distance. After a pause, he nods slowly.
“You may have a point here, Miss den Eeden. You may have a point. But they need to be prepared for life outside of the bunker. What do you suggest?”
I exhale slowly. “They need to know the truth about the world above. And they should be taught to read and write. Also, how to keep out of the sun, how to build shelter, where to find water, basic medicine, how to –”
He laughs. “One thing at a time, one thing at a time. We can start with reading and writing. I’ll instruct the tutors to begin daily lessons. Does that make you happy, my dear?”
“Yes. Thank you.” There is something so patronising about his “my dear”.
Mr Frye beams. “Well done, General. You’re already proving to be a wise and generous leader. Now, how many of the young people in the colony could you spare for Greenhaven’s workforce?”
The general gestures to Major Zungu, who leans over. Captain Atherton passes along the leather book and the three of them bend over it, muttering. The general jabs the page with his stubby finger. At last he looks up.
“I can give you fifty girls,” he says.
“Um …” I swallow as I contemplate finding beds for fifty people. “I haven’t really got room for that many –”
Major Zungu ignores me. “They will be in the care of the army,” he growls. “They will sleep in a temporary barracks located just outside Greenhaven Farm. They will be marched to Greenhaven at 0800 hours, six days a week, and return to the barracks at 1800 hours. Guards will supervise them for the duration. And, Miss den Eeden, make no mistake: They will be under strict observation at all times. You will feed them all three meals per day – including the guards.”
“Three meals a day?” How am I supposed to find food for over fifty people a day? But I know that if I don’t, they’ll be stuck in the colony. They will probably starve to death.
“In time, the food they produce will be more than enough to feed them and you’ll still have plenty to sell to the City. I understand that Greenhaven Farm does exceptionally well under your care, Miss den Eeden. Mr Frye says it’s quite remarkable how the output has increased since you’ve arrived. It’s your duty, Miss den Eeden, to help solve this crisis.”
Under the table, I feel Mr Frye’s knee nudging mine. I remember his words: Bargain with them.
“General,” I begin, trying to sound professional, “this is an interesting opportunity, but it’s also a big adjustment for Greenhaven. I’m not certain that we want to expand so quickly. Perhaps in a year or two, when we’re a little more established …”
He narrows his eyes. I’m hitting home. I push on.
“However …” I pause. I’m thinking about how strained things have been between me and my sabenzis. It’s so unfair that I have everything and they own nothing. They can’t even live at Greenhaven unless they’re my servants. “I could perhaps be persuaded if you were to do something for me. Something to make up for the inconvenience.”
He leans forward. “What? What is it you want, Miss den Eeden?”
I swallow the boulder in my throat. If I don’t ask now I’ll never get it. “If I could have full citizenship for my friends. Please.”
He thinks a bit, then nods. “Names?”
“Jasmine Constable … um, Letti Sinxo, Fezile Sinxo … Micah Maystree …” I look to see if the general responds as I call each name, but his face doesn’t move.
Major Zungu is tapping his fingers on the table.
I bite my lip. Is that everyone? No wait – Shorty. We were so mean to him when we suspected him of being the High Priest’s spy. And then we discovered Victor was the traitor, and that Shorty had been loyal all along. This will make it up to him.
“And Shorty – I mean, Troy Julius. And …” My mind scrabbles – there’s someone I’m forgetting. Major Zungu’s finger-tapping has speeded up, and I still have so much to ask. “And …”
The general narrows his eyes. “There’s more?”
I’d better hurry up before he gets angry. “I want to select the fifty workers from the colony myself,” I blurt out quickly.
He nods. “Right. Make a note of that, Major. Now, item two on the agenda. The Poladion family will be executed by firing squad immediately after this meeting. All council members are required to attend.”
Executed.
I can’t focus on anything for the rest of the meeting. The voices around the table sound further and further away as a cold block forms in my stomach, freezing out everything except the image of – the wives, the small children, Cassie, my friend, Hal … Lucas …
I can barely breathe.
Too soon the men stop talking, and the general pushes back his chair. “Right, gentlemen and lady, we will now proceed to the courtyard.”
“General …” I begin, my voice barely above a whisper.
He turns those cold eyes on me and waves me away like an irritating insect. “No more discussion.”
The three officers glare at me, and I wither.
CHAPTER 3
Come along, Ebba,” Mr Frye says.
The others have left the council chamber already but I’m hovering, hoping they won’t notice that I’m missing.
I can’t go out there.
I can’t watch the entire family being killed.
But he takes my free arm, propelling me down the passage and out of the big double doors onto the colonnade.
I try to pull away, but he holds me firmly, hissing into my ear, “Ebba, you have to pick your battles with the general. This one is not worth fighting. Now, come with me.”
We stand in a row with the other council members, looking over the courtyard. The plinth stands empty now. The statue of the High Priest has been pulled to the ground, and soldiers are dragging it away, jeering.
I have a flashback to the High Priest’s face as the bees swarmed around his head. I push it away. He was evil. He killed Jaco and Shameema and the Year Fives. He deserved to die. But his family haven’t done anything wrong.
The prisoners are nowhere in sight and I relax a little. The general must be playing some sort of game to scare me.
Then a door opens in the wall, and the women and children are led into the courtyard. My legs go numb, threatening to buckle under me. I lean against a column, feeling the clammy sweat beading on my forehead.
The wives are herding the children. The little one, the toddler, is staring with huge eyes at the soldiers. Nomkhululi is weeping, holding her baby close to her breast. Cassie looks up and catches my eye. Her face convulses.
I turn away, filled with shame. I should have tried harder to save her. I glance around frantically, searching the faces of the men around me. Next to me, the general is standing impervious, back straight, hands locked behind him, cold eyes scanning over every inch of the courtyard. This has got to be a ploy to scare the family, to show them that he is the boss now. I’m sure of it. He won’t kill these innocent children.
“General!” I cry. “Please. You can’t go through with this.”
He stiffens. Then he turns to glare at me. “This is how we treat traitors,” he snaps.
The door into the courtyard has opened again, and Hal limps out, one shoulder twisted. His eyes lock onto the general.
“De
Groot!” he yells, his voice reverberating off the marble walls. “I’ll work with you –”
The guard hits him with the butt of his rifle, and Hal staggers, winded.
Then out comes Lucas, staring at the ground, his thin shoulders hunched like one of the herons at the farm dam. He looks broken and my heart twists.
My arm strains in the sling, my feet move and before I realise it, I’m taking a step towards him, but Mr Frye flings out a hand to stop me.
The soldiers are lining the family up against the far wall. Another line of soldiers stands facing them across the courtyard, rifles ready.
“General!” I want to grab his sleeve, but he looks at me with his icy eyes and his whole being radiates “keep away”. The words spill out of me, my voice rising. “General, you can’t kill a whole family because of their father. Send them away rather – send them to the mainland. You can’t kill that tiny baby!”
A half smile flickers across his face as he catches Major Zungu’s eye. They think I’m hysterical . . .
“Calm down, Miss den Eeden,” he says coldly. “This is in the interests of national security. You don’t want one of his family rising up to assume the role of High Priest, do you? Or to take revenge on you for killing their father? As far as I recall, Haldus was publicly shamed when you refused to marry him.” He gestures towards Hal, who is facing the wall while a guard ties a blindfold around his eyes. “I doubt very much whether he’s the sort of man who would forgive a slight like that.”
Lucas stands slightly apart from the rest of the family. He’s staring out at the sea with longing on his face.
“What about Lucas?” I beg, close to tears. “He’s totally harmless. He can come to Greenhaven and take Victor’s place.”
Major Zungu sniggers. “Lucas Poladion. Not only harmless, but useless too.”
Mr Frye smiles at me. “Ebba has such a soft heart. Always taking in waifs and strays. Grant her this request, General.”
The general ignores us. Mr Frye gives me a quick glance, and I feel his fingers squeeze mine, so tightly that it hurts.
The family are lined up, all blindfolded now. The baby’s thin wail drifts across the yard. I bite my knuckle so hard I draw blood.