The Sacrifice (3 page)

‘I’ve written it all down. Do
you want me to read it out?’

‘No, just give it to the clerks
afterwards.’

‘OK, so anyway, Captain Reynolds got
his team to check much more carefully every morning and evening. It was soon obvious
that stuff was being nicked nearly every night.
Just small amounts –
the thief probably thought that it wouldn’t be noticeable. I told you about it a
week ago.’ This was addressed to Jordan, who nodded. ‘And you told me to put
a special watch on the stores. We built a hiding place and took it in turns to stake
them out. We saw Bren come in just after midnight last night – he had his own key – and
we saw him take three cans of peaches away in a backpack. We followed him back to his
room in the Casemates and arrested him.’

‘All right, all right. This is
boring,’ said Bren. ‘Three cans of peaches. I admit it.’

‘Once we’d locked Bren up we
searched his room,’ Tomoki went on. ‘And we found all this.’

Tomoki paused as three kids brought in boxes
packed with food. The murmuring started up again. Someone whistled. Bren’s head
drooped and he looked ashamed.

‘Do you admit that you stole all this
as well?’ Jordan asked.

‘Yes,’ said Bren quietly.

‘Were you working alone?’

Bren nodded and Jordan asked Tomoki if he
agreed.

‘We don’t think there was anyone
else in on it. That’s why we followed him, to make sure.’

‘Do you want to say anything else,
Bren?’ asked Jordan. ‘I can’t really see the point, but if you want
to.’

‘No. I don’t want to say
anything. Just … I’m sorry, I suppose. It was stupid.’

‘Saying you’re sorry won’t
change what you done,’ said Jordan. ‘You’re a coward, Brendan.
Stealing off of other kids. You’re a traitor. You don’t care about anyone
except yourself.’

‘Yeah, all right,’ said Brendan.
‘I said I’m sorry.’

‘OK,’ said Jordan. ‘So if
nobody has any objections then I reckon you’re guilty.’

‘Yeah, OK. I’m
guilty.’

Tomoki sat down. ‘So what’s the
sentence then?’ he asked.

‘As I said.’ Jordan stared at
Brendan. ‘I think stealing food from other kids is as bad as murder. So the
sentence is death.’

‘Nooooo!’ Brendan launched
himself across the table at Jordan and the whole place went crazy. Kids were jumping up
out of their seats, all shouting at once. This had taken them totally by surprise.
Brendan, who was screaming a torrent of filthy abuse at Jordan, tried to wrestle him to
the ground. He wasn’t getting anywhere. Jordan was immensely strong and managed to
throw off his attacker, seemingly without any effort at all. He rolled Brendan on to his
front and pinned him to the ground, pulling his arm up behind his back. He held him
there, increasing the pressure on his arm until Brendan begged him to stop.

Dusty and bedraggled, with dirt clinging to
the tears on his cheeks, Brendan stood up. There was snot streaming from his nose and
his eyes were so raw and swollen it looked like they’d been punched.

‘Take him outside,’ said Jordan,
no hint of emotion in his voice.

Jordan headed for the doors and the guards
who had brought Brendan in retied his hands and dragged him along behind. The other kids
were still in turmoil, milling around, talking excitedly to each other, eyes wide,
waving their hands, not quite believing that this was happening.

Sam sat there, a concerned expression on his
face, too
young to understand his feelings. He didn’t know the
boy, Brendan, but he was shocked by what had happened.

‘Heavy-duty,’ said The Kid.
‘Nobody expected the Spanish Inquisition.’

‘Do you think they’ll really do
it?’ said Sam.

‘Don’t ask me,’ said The
Kid. ‘I’m a stranger here myself. But strangers have left on longer trains
before.’

Ed came over to them; he had a boy with him
who Sam recognized. He was called Kyle and rarely left Ed’s side. Kyle was big and
loud, always telling dirty jokes, very different to Ed. He acted as a sort of bodyguard
for Ed, who it seemed could do nothing to shake the big square-headed boy off.

‘You OK?’ Ed asked, squatting
down so that he was at the same level as the younger kids.

‘Does this happen a lot?’ Sam
asked and Ed shook his head.

‘Never before. A few kids have been
punished for things, but never like this. We better go and see what’s
happening.’

‘Will Jordan really do it?’

‘God knows. I have no idea how his
brain works.’

‘I think it’s well cool,’
said Kyle, grinning like an idiot. ‘This is gonna be good.’

‘Kyle!’

‘What?’ Kyle gaped at Ed with an
expression of wide-eyed innocence.

‘Nothing.’

As Sam stood up, Kyle winked at him.

‘Baaaaaaa,’ he said, making
little horns with his fingers.

‘Leave it out, Kyle,’ Ed
snapped. Kyle just laughed.

‘Why did you do that?’ Sam
asked. ‘I heard someone else make a sheep noise yesterday.’

‘It doesn’t matter.’ Ed put a
hand on his shoulder. ‘I’ll tell you about it some other time.’

Sam wanted to know now, but it was clear
that Ed wasn’t going to talk about it. He and Kyle strode on ahead and Sam and The
Kid followed them out to where everyone was assembling on Tower Green. Sam was familiar
with this corner of the castle. He’d been sleeping in a room in one of the
medieval timber-framed houses that lined the green on two sides. If it wasn’t for
the fact that most of the grass had been dug up and replaced with vegetables it did very
much resemble a traditional village green. As well as the houses, there was a small
stone church and you could imagine you were deep in the English countryside rather than
in the heart of London.

Brendan had been dragged to a cobbled area
in the centre of the green where a chopping block was set up. It was a replica, dragged
out of an exhibition in one of the towers, but it was solid enough, and next to it was a
large and very real axe. Jordan must have arranged for this to be done while everyone
was inside.

‘This is where they used to chop
people’s heads off in Henry the Eighth’s time,’ Sam told The Kid.
‘I read about it. Anne Boleyn and Catherine Howard were both executed
here.’

Ed shook his head at the sight of the block
and axe. ‘Jordan’s gone nuts,’ he said. ‘This isn’t
right.’

Brendan’s friends were crowding round
Jordan, all talking at once, like footballers arguing about a penalty decision with a
referee. Jordan ignored them and came over to say a few words to Kyle, who nodded. Then
he stood on the block to address the crowd.

‘You may think this is harsh,’
he shouted. ‘But if we
don’t take our laws seriously
there’s no point in having them. Without laws we’d be just like animals. The
punishment for murder is death, we all agreed on that –’

‘Only because we thought it would
never happen,’ a girl shouted from the crowd.

‘That’s irrelevant,’ said
Jordan.

‘Who said stealing food was as bad as
murder anyway?’ asked another girl. It was clear that Jordan’s decision was
not a popular one. The kids were scared and angry.

‘I did,’ said Jordan. ‘And
I stick to it. Food is very precious now. As I said, if we don’t have food we
die.’

Ed pushed his way to the front of the crowd
and walked right up to Jordan.

‘No one wants this,’ he said.
‘Stop it now.’

‘He has to be punished.’

‘Yeah? OK, so who the hell are you
going to get to cut his bloody head off, huh? Or are you going to do it
yourself?’

‘Me,’ said Kyle stepping
forward. ‘I’m going to do it!’ He picked up the axe and took a couple
of practice swings, kids jumping out of the way.

‘Don’t be stupid, Kyle,’
Ed protested.

Kyle shrugged. ‘It’s a difficult
job, but someone’s got to do it.’

Jordan instructed his guards to hold Brendan
down on the block, but now even
they
were having second thoughts. They refused
and backed off, hands up in surrender.

Jordan took hold of Brendan himself, ripped
the shirt from his back and forced him to kneel over the block, his bare neck on the
rough wood.

‘Now be a man, Bren,’ he said,
holding him firmly in place. ‘Don’t struggle. Accept your
punishment.’

‘This isn’t fair,’ Brendan
sobbed. ‘You can’t do this.’

‘He’s right.’ Ed stood
between Kyle and Brendan. ‘You’re not going to do this, Jordan. You go on
about what would happen if the law breaks down, but as far as I can see, if we start
killing each other then law already has broken down. For God’s sake, the
world’s dangerous enough as it is without you making it worse. I won’t let
this happen. And I reckon most people here will back me up.’

‘So what do we do with him?’
asked Jordan calmly. ‘How do we punish him?’

‘There’s another punishment. We
talked about it when we drew up the rules. It’s still pretty heavy, but if you
insist on making a point … ’

‘What punishment is that,
Ed?’

‘You know what it is. You made it up.
If it’s the only way then do it. But it’s still your decision, not mine.
I’m just reminding you of the option. Personally I think Bren’s been
punished enough.’

‘What is it?’ said one of the
girls who had shouted out before. ‘What are you going to do to him?’

Jordan thought for a while, his strong hands
gripping Brendan. ‘OK,’ he said at last and let Brendan go.
‘Ed’s asked me to be soft and this time I will be. But I want you all to
remember this. The law’s the law. We didn’t make the rules for a joke. If
you break them it’s serious.’

‘What’s the other
punishment?’ the girl repeated. ‘Tell us.’

‘Exile.’

Sam, Ed and The Kid were standing on top of
Byward Tower, the inner gatehouse at the castle. They were leaning on the battlements,
looking down as Brendan was led out of the gates and along the walkway towards the outer
gatehouse, Middle Tower, which had been the main visitors’ entrance to the castle.
The walkway passed over the flooded moat and, once again, with the traffic of London
stilled, the crowds gone and the kids in their shining armour, Sam felt like he had
slipped back in time to the Middle Ages.

There was a gang of kids working in the
moat, standing up to their thighs in water the colour of coffee. They were covered in
mud and were working with shovels and buckets, slopping muck everywhere. They looked up
and stared as Brendan went past, then returned to their work.

Brendan walked with his head and shoulders
slumped. He’d been given a pack with some food in it – some of the same food
he’d stolen – a sleeping-bag, a bottle of water, a sword and a knife. Four boys
with halberds marched beside him. Kyle, Tomoki and Jordan Hordern walked at the head of
the little procession; a small group of Brendan’s friends brought up the rear.
Nobody else had come to see him leave. It was too unsettling. This was nearly as bad as
cutting
his head off. Everyone in the Tower feared being alone in the
outside world.

‘What’ll happen to him,
d’you think?’ Sam asked.

Ed sighed. ‘I hope he finds some other
kids, another settlement. There must be some out there.’

‘Like at Buckingham Palace,’
said Sam.

‘What’s at Buckingham
Palace?’ Ed asked.

‘My sister, Ella. She went there with
all my friends. Another boy told them it was safe.’

‘I hope he was right, for her
sake.’ Ed smiled at Sam, the scar making it look like a snarl.

‘She’s still alive,’ said
Sam. ‘I know she is.’

‘Yeah, I’m sure she is. But
it’s hard to get there from here. He’d have to go through the no-go
zone.’

‘What’s that?’

‘OK.’ Ed pointed westwards,
towards St Paul’s Cathedral, then swung his arm slowly round to the north.

‘We don’t ever go that
way,’ he said. ‘It’s the old City of London, the business district.
Not many houses or shops, so not much food to be found. Plus, it’s weird in there.
The sickos are dangerous and unpredictable. How you two ever made it through alive I
will never know.’

‘We was half stupid, a third lucky and
three-quarters ferocious,’ said The Kid. Ed nodded his head, frowning slightly.
Sam hardly noticed The Kid’s weird way of speaking any more, but Ed was obviously
still getting used to it.

‘Well, that’s the no-go zone.
From Aldgate in the north, down past the Bank of England to London Bridge. It cuts us
off from central London. So, whatever you do, don’t go back into the no-go zone,
OK?’

‘OK.’

‘Roger wilco Johnson.’

Ed carried on, sweeping his arm round, like the
hand of a clock making a full circle.

‘To the east is fine,’ he said.
‘And it’s safe to cross over Tower Bridge. It’s quiet that
way.’

Sam looked at the bridge. It was the famous
one that could be raised up and down to let ships through, and had tall spiky towers at
either end.

There was a shout and they returned their
attention to what was happening below. Brendan had made it through Middle Tower and was
being taken across the wide open space that lay to the immediate west of the castle
where several cars were parked and the kids had collected piles of scrap. Ed watched the
sad little group of children, the scarred side of his face twitching.

‘Maybe he’ll be fine,’ he
said. ‘I mean, you two sprouts made it by yourselves. Brendan’s a pretty big
guy, knows how to fight. There haven’t been a lot of sicko sightings lately. Yeah,
he’ll be fine.’

‘Do you really think that?’ said
Sam.

Ed laughed bitterly. ‘Not really, no.
He hasn’t got a hope in hell unless he finds a safe place before
night-time.’

Sam shivered despite himself, felt a wash of
prickly goosebumps skitter over his skin. Seeing Brendan kicked out was upsetting him.
He remembered how Brendan had looked when he knew he wasn’t going to be killed.
How happy he’d been and then how he’d changed when he understood what
he’d have to do. What exile meant. He’d pulled himself together and shouted
at Jordan.