The Executioner's Apprentice (The Executioner's Song Book 2)

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The Executioner's Apprentice (The Executioner's Song Book 2) Page 5

by D. K. Holmberg


  A small lantern in the kitchen gave off enough light for Finn to see once inside the front door. He glanced over to the closet in the entryway to check if Meyer’s cloak was there, and saw that it was. He was there.

  “Finn?”

  Lena poked her head out of the kitchen. She was a few years younger than him, though she’d aged in the time since they’d lost their father. Now she wore a weary expression almost constantly, one of worry she’d earned while caring for their mother. Finn had never earned the same worry lines as his sister, though he thought that his time working in the crew should have given him some.

  “It’s just me.” He took his cloak off and hung it on the hook in his room right off the entrance. It was a small room, with little more than a bed and a desk, but the bed was comfortable and the desk afforded him all the space he needed for his studies. “Is Meyer—”

  “In his study. With someone.”

  Finn nodded, making his way to the kitchen to join Lena. Her auburn hair hung loose around her shoulders, though it seemed to have slipped free from a pale yellow ribbon that had fallen onto her back. The one slice of color Lena afforded herself. Her dress and shoes were both a dark brown.

  “Can I get you anything? You didn’t eat.”

  The mention of food set his stomach to rumbling. “Now that you mention it, I suppose I could use something to eat.”

  “Unless you’re supposed to be with him?” Her gaze drifted toward the closed door at the end of the hall. It was stout enough that Finn couldn’t hear anything from the other side.

  “If he wanted me with him for the session, he would have let me know.”

  “I don’t want you to abandon your responsibilities.”

  Finn took a seat at the table and pulled the hegen card from his pocket while leaning back and staring at it. The lantern glowed with a soft orange light on the table, just enough for him to make out the raised surface of the crown on it.

  “I’m not. I’ve plenty of studying to do before I’m ready to assist him there.”

  Lena brought a tray of bread and cheese and set it in front of him. “Do you like it?”

  He shrugged. “I find the study more enjoyable than I would have thought, though I don’t have much practice.”

  She poured herself a mug of tea, then one for Finn, and took a seat across from him. The black tea was nothing like the herbal mint that Esmerelda had given him, but Lena knew how he preferred it, and he took a long sip before picking at the lump of bread.

  “I borrowed one of your books,” she said.

  Finn laughed softly. “What would you do that for?”

  Lena’s eyes darkened. “You don’t have to make fun of me, Finn.”

  He put down the bread. “That wasn’t what I intended. I just wouldn’t have expected you to want to borrow one of the books he lent me.”

  “Not one on that.” Lena had never talked much about the darker aspects of Finn’s job, though he never had a feeling from her that she disapproved, only that she found it distasteful. “One on anatomy. I’ve never seen anything like it. It surprised me, is all.”

  “That the executioner would know about anatomy?”

  “That he would know about all of these things.” She settled her hands on the table and stared at the mug of tea in front of her. “I had this image of the city executioner in my head that has been all wrong. He’s nothing like I thought he would be.”

  Finn took another bite of the bread, chewing slowly. “What did you think he would be?”

  “I guess a brute.”

  Finn chuckled. “When I first got to know Master Meyer, I didn’t know what to make of him either. He was always something of a mythical person in the city, you know. This stoic man who would bring people up to face sentencing atop the Raven Stone, and slip a noose around a neck, or use the sword Justice to…” Finn looked up, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Lena. I don’t need to go through that with you.”

  “That’s fine, Finn. If you need to talk about it, you can tell me what is on your mind.”

  “That’s just it, though. I don’t even know if I need to talk about it. It’s just what I need to do.”

  They fell into a silence for a while, both of them focusing on the food and drink in front of them. Finn took a sip of his tea before picking up the bread and chewing slowly.

  “Mother continues to improve,” Lena said. “I think she’s getting some color back.”

  He nodded slowly. “That’s good.”

  “Master Meyer tells me that we need to keep feeding her. He tells me food is medicine at this point for her.”

  “Then she’s in good hands,” Finn said.

  “I don’t know about that. I just tried to do everything I could to help her, but I don’t know.”

  Finn smiled. “She wouldn’t be here were it not for you,” he said. He meant it, too. Had Lena not done all that she had for their mother, she wouldn’t have survived. She had suffered the way it was, and whatever strange wasting illness had taken her had continued eating away at her, taking her mind, her awareness, and finally taking her strength.

  “Have you ever asked him about Father?”

  Finn looked up, meeting his sister’s gaze. “I don’t know that Master Meyer knows anything about what happened to our father.”

  “You’re in charge of all the prisons, aren’t you? It seems to me you’d be able to learn what happened to him.”

  Finn stared at the lump of bread in his hand. “I don’t know where our father ended up, but it’s not in the city.”

  He’d looked at the prison records once he had gotten established enough that he didn’t worry about Master Meyer getting upset with him for doing so. Unfortunately for them, there had been no record of what happened to their father. It was unusual, which meant that whatever crime he’d done had been a peculiar one.

  “How can that be? Why would he have been captured here but in prison somewhere else?”

  Finn shook his head. “I’m still learning these things, Lena. I’m barely an apprentice, and certainly not far enough along in my responsibilities that I can question Master Meyer about such topics.”

  “He’s our father, Finn.”

  “I know who he is,” Finn said, more abruptly than he intended.

  Lena sat back, frowning. “I should go check on Mother.”

  “Lena—”

  She got to her feet and shook her head. “I need to be more like you, I think. I need to be thankful for what we’ve been given and not question it. I suppose I should keep these thoughts to myself.”

  “That wasn’t what I was getting at,” Finn said.

  “I know that’s not what you were getting at.” She glanced over to Meyer’s office, shaking her head. “He’s been kind to us. I don’t want to do anything that would disrupt that kindness.”

  Would Meyer keep working with Finn if he started questioning, digging into what happened to his father?

  “I can ask him,” Finn said.

  “Not if you don’t think it’s safe to do.”

  “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.” He took a sip of his tea and set it down near the hegen card. It seemed as if the colors had shifted just a little bit, though that might be the reflection off of the lantern. As Finn picked up the card, he rubbed his thumb across the surface of it, but the ink didn’t change.

  “I didn’t realize you still had one of those.” Lena frowned at him. “If you owe them something, you need to take care of that before you get in too deep. I know they helped you, much like they helped me, but they will take and take from you, until you are so caught up in the hegen schemes, you have no choice but to serve.”

  He just nodded.

  “I’m going to check on Mother,” Lena said again.

  Finn just nodded. When she left him, he sat quietly, chewing at the bread, before moving on to the cheeses. Meyer always had enough food, and had so far not asked for anything in return for housing Lena and Finn’s mother, which made him a little uncertain. At what po
int would that change? At what point would Master Meyer begin to demand something more from Finn?

  Maybe he was no different from the hegen.

  For that matter, how did Finn know that Master Meyer wasn’t bound up with the hegen as well? He’d heard Esmerelda say that he had been a part of some plan, and though he didn’t know what that plan was, or how he’d been bound to the hegen, Finn suspected it had something to do with him. Should he be concerned someone else seemed to have a plan for him?

  At least they wanted him.

  He finished the food Lena had given him and brought the tray to the washbasin, setting it inside and scrubbing it. When finished, he moved on to the other dishes, getting them clean and then dry, and had started toward his room to study when he heard the door to Meyer’s office open.

  He turned to see Meyer standing in the doorway. A shadowed light shifted across his face as he turned, making the wrinkles on his face deeper than they normally appeared. “You’re back late,” Meyer said.

  “I just had to check on something.”

  Meyer grunted softly. “You went to the hegen section.”

  Finn swallowed. “You knew?”

  “I still receive reports from the Archers on your comings and goings.”

  So much for the autonomy that he thought he had. Finn had thought that by passing the Executioner Court trials, he’d have been trusted more. He’d given Meyer no reason not to trust him since executing the King.

  “I didn’t go to do anything to dishonor you.”

  Meyer frowned, then motioned for Finn to join him.

  He stepped into Meyer’s study. The room was comfortable and cozy, the better for those who came to visit to feel as if they were seeing a traditional healer rather than an executioner. A long, padded cot rested near one wall, and he had a desk near another wall. Bookshelves behind the desk were filled with texts on healing, anatomy, medicines, and the like. Meyer had made the expectation clear to Finn that he would read through most of the books before he could be trusted to heal anyone.

  Meyer nodded to the chair resting across from the desk, and Finn took a seat. It wasn’t common for him to come into the office, so when Meyer invited him in, he knew better than to refuse.

  Taking a seat across from Finn, Meyer rested his elbows on the desk and regarded him. “Did you think I feared you would discredit me?”

  “I just wanted you to know that I wouldn’t do anything like that.”

  “I believe you, Finn.”

  “I went to the hegen to try to—”

  “Understand the card you have.” When Finn nodded, Meyer asked, “What is on it?”

  Finn held it up and Meyer frowned at it.

  “What is it?”

  Finn glanced at the card. “I see a golden crown. Do you see the same?”

  “Ah. And you wondered what they might ask of you and whether it would have you harm the king.” Meyer smiled tightly. “I don’t think the hegen have any interest in harming the king.”

  “I don’t think so either, but they have their own motivations for the things they do.”

  “Of that there is no doubt, but the hegen are treated well. At least, as well as they can be, given the kind of magic they employ. It’s not quite witchcraft, a dangerous sort of power, but some feel it’s dangerous enough. Hedge magic, of a sort, though the kind of magic the king has permitted.”

  It was interesting to hear Meyer talk about it so matter-of-factly. That hadn’t been Finn’s typical experience with him. Most of the time, Meyer had been quiet when it came to talking about and dealing with magic, so for him to speak of the hegen magic, and what it meant not only for the city but for the kingdom…

  “I didn’t think you liked to acknowledge magic.”

  “Wanting to deal in it and acknowledging its existence are different matters. How can I deny what I’ve seen with my own eyes?”

  “Have you?” Finn leaned forward. Would Meyer reveal what he’d done to gain the hegen’s attention? If so, it was a story he wanted to hear.

  “There have been hegen living on the outskirts of Verendal for as long as I remember. Not all of them have been accessible, though these days, they have come to appreciate a different relationship with the city.”

  “Why is that?”

  Meyer looked down at his desk, opening a book and jotting down a note. “Perhaps if you ask her, she will tell you.”

  “I doubt Esmerelda will tell me anything that doesn’t serve her purpose.”

  Meyer looked up, holding Finn’s gaze. “Is that any different than the prisoners you’ve interrogated?”

  Finn frowned. Strangely, that had been what he’d felt about it as well. When he’d been talking with Esmerelda, it had felt like a questioning session, only one where he had been the target. Perhaps when it came to the hegen, he had to view things in a different manner.

  “I suppose it’s not.”

  “You can learn to speak with the hegen and not position yourself into a corner. I would suggest it’s good practice for some of the criminals you might visit.”

  “That’s probably true.”

  Meyer nodded absently and continued writing in the book. Finn had never seen Meyer’s notes. Of all the books that he had in his study, his personal notes were kept private. Finn knew better than to try to sneak a peek at them, though he was curious about what Meyer might be writing down. He often took notes while talking to Finn. Did he keep records of their conversations?

  “We have an early start in the morning. A man was brought in who the magister would like us to question.”

  “What did he do?”

  “He’s an arsonist.”

  “The Jorend fire?”

  Meyer nodded. “The same.”

  The scream he’d heard—the person he hadn’t been able to help—echoed in his mind. “Has he admitted it?”

  “No. Which is why we have to question him. The magister believes in his guilt, partly because the warden has sent word of it.”

  “I didn’t realize the wardens had any role in that.”

  “Generally, they do not, though if a prisoner makes a claim within the prison, the warden can report to the magister.” Meyer’s brow darkened for a moment. “Typically, they report it to me, and I get word to the magister, but only after I have taken an opportunity to question further. After we talk with him, I think this is a good opportunity for you to take the lead.”

  Finn stared at Master Meyer for a moment. “The lead?”

  “Eventually, you will progress to journeyman status, and in order to do that you need to be comfortable and confident in not only leading investigations but also leading sentencing if appropriate. In this case, I would have you pursue your investigation, the questioning of the prisoner, and ultimately present your findings to the magister and the jurors. Do you think you can do that?”

  Having something like that to focus on would give him an opportunity to be out in the city a little bit, and it might even give him an opportunity to look into Bellut. Going before the jurors would definitely give him that opportunity. That was what he wanted more than anything else.

  “I can do it,” he said.

  Meyer nodded. “You need to remember that you are acting on my behalf. You remain my apprentice, which means that you and your work are reflective upon me.”

  “I won’t do anything that will dishonor you,” Finn said.

  “I don’t think that you will,” Meyer agreed.

  He turned his attention back to the book resting in front of him, scratching out another note.

  He said nothing more, and after a while, Finn got to his feet, closing the door to the study behind him. Finn made his way to his room, where he took a seat at the desk and pulled out a book. He might have responsibilities in the morning, but for now, he needed to focus on continuing his studies. If he truly wasn’t going to dishonor Master Meyer, he needed to keep working.

  The hegen card resting on the desk drew his attention every so often, the gold crown glitter
ing on the surface catching his eye. Regardless of what he might do for Master Meyer, Finn needed to learn what the hegen wanted of him, and he was going to have to figure out some way of investigating Bellut. He still needed to pay for what he had done. Finn was determined to find whoever Bellut had worked with and prove the guilt of both parties.

  Chapter Five

  The outside of Declan Prison was dark, and it stank of rot and shit. It was all too familiar to Finn. He’d been there many times in the months since he had apprenticed to Master Meyer, and he had still never quite adjusted to the stench that surrounded the prison. It came from this section of the city, but it also seemed to emanate from the prison itself, a stench that grew worse the more time he spent inside. It was one of filth, that of shit and piss and sweat, but it was also one of fear and a strange odor of the condemned.

  Master Meyer had been silent during their walk over to Declan. Now that they were there, he paused in the street, sweeping his gaze around them before glancing over to Finn. The early morning sunlight seemed to reflect off his graying hair, making it appear almost silver. “Many in the city feel that arsonists are the worst criminals,” Master Meyer said. “The jurors and the magister would prefer we get to the bottom of this investigation as quickly as possible. They don’t want us leaving an arsonist out in the city, especially if this man is not guilty.”

  “I thought you said they believed in his guilt.”

  “They believe it, but there always is the possibility we have the wrong man. When it comes to an arsonist, time can be critical. Once someone gets a taste for starting fires and watching the destruction of the city, they are unlikely to stop.”

  “I would have thought murderers were the worst.”

  “Murderers end one life and disrupt several, including the family of those they killed Arsonists disrupt many lives and often kill just as many, though much more indiscriminately.”

 

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