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

by D. K. Holmberg

  “What other opportunities?”

  “He could have taken more respectable jobs,” she said.

  “He was working with the cartwright—”

  “That wasn’t going anywhere, and we both knew it.”

  Growing up, Finn had assumed his father would one day be more than an apprentice. Obviously, his parents hadn’t shared that view. “He didn’t have any other skills, and there aren’t too many people who are willing to hire somebody like him from our section of the city.” It reminded Finn of the conversation he had with Master Johan. What would David Sweth have felt like? Probably the same as Finn’s father.

  But then, he had been given an opportunity. He had apprenticed with Master Johan, and he would have no reason to have committed any crime.

  “I’m not going to have the same argument with you that I had with him all those years ago,” she said. “I tried. I failed. And now here we are.”

  Finn nodded. “Here we are.”

  “You don’t have to stay with me,” she said.

  “I want to. I wanted to see how you were doing.”

  “I’m here, aren’t I? I don’t have any choice otherwise.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means I can’t get up even if I wanted to. I’m stuck here in this bed. I’m dependent upon you and your sister and Master Meyer all helping me. I can’t get out of bed, and I can’t go anywhere, and I can’t do any damn thing for myself. Heleth has cursed me.”

  Finn regarded his mother for a moment, wishing he knew the right thing to say. There wasn’t anything, though. His mother had been sick for a long time now, and even though her mind had seemingly recovered, the rest of her had not. She still suffered.

  What would he do were the situation reversed? Would he want to sit in bed all day, waiting on the hope that he might have someone come and help him or would he want to get up and move?

  Finn knew the answer.

  “What can I do to help you?” he asked.

  His mother looked down, keeping her gaze away. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

  “It does.”

  She looked up at him. “Let me go.” The words hung in the air. “If I get sick again, just let me go. Your father is gone. You’ve started a new life and don’t need me around. Even Lena has started to have her own life. Neither of you need me.”

  “We do need you. You’re our mother.”

  “Not like this, I’m not. I can’t do the things I once did for you. Gods, I don’t even know the things you did for me. I just…” She turned away, and tears started streaming down haggard cheeks.

  Finn sat alongside her, saying nothing, not knowing the right words to say. That had always been Lena’s gift with their mother. It was the reason that he’d been willing to join Oscar. There had to be something that he could offer, which was why he had stolen.

  When she drifted off to sleep, he stood and turned to see Master Meyer standing in the doorway. His eyes were dark, and he looked past Finn to Finn’s mother, watching her.

  “She has recovered as much as she can,” Meyer said.

  “I know.”

  “There’s only so much the hegen healing can accomplish.”

  Finn squeezed his eyes shut. He’d lost his father and didn’t want to lose his mother. Not like this when it seemed like everything should have gone well for them. When it seemed like his mother should have the chance to recover and thrive. They didn’t deserve it.

  “There has to be more. I can go back to Esmerelda and can see if she—”

  “There’s only so much that can be done.”

  Finn locked eyes with Meyer, and then he saw it. Something that he’d missed before but shouldn’t have. He understood that Meyer had lost something. Maybe everything. “What happened to them?”

  Meyer turned to Finn then shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “You went to the hegen. They tied you to them.” Meyer didn’t deny it. “Is that why you helped me?”

  There had to be some answer why Meyer had rescued him. It might even be the hegen.

  “I helped you because it was my right.” He spoke softly so as to not wake Finn’s mother.

  “What about your family?” Finn turned to look at the room. “I remember when you brought mine here. The room looked like it had just been used.”

  “It hadn’t been used in many years,” Meyer whispered.

  “What happened to them?” He wanted to know, though with Meyer, Finn didn’t know if he would be given the chance. It was possible that he wouldn’t share anything more with Finn.

  “I couldn’t save them. Neither could the hegen.” He looked to Finn’s mother. “Take the time you have with her and cherish it. I fear she won’t be here long.”

  Meyer turned and headed down the stairs.

  Finn inhaled deeply, this time smelling something of the room that he’d missed before. There was the medicinal odor in the room, that of the various compounds Meyer mixed, each of them used for some healing process, but underneath it all, a hint of sickness.

  No.

  She had been healed. The hegen had saved her. Meyer had given her what he could to help. Finn had seen it.

  His mother’s words came back to him.

  If I get sick again, just let me go.

  What did she know?

  He looked toward the doorway and down the stairs. If he strained, he could just make out Lena’s voice as she spoke to Helda. It was soft, comfortable, the way she had been ever since coming to Meyer’s home.

  What would happen to Lena if they lost their mother?

  Finn didn’t want to think about that, but he thought she deserved to know. If there was anything that he could do to help…

  Maybe he could help his mother.

  He didn’t have Meyer’s knowledge, neither did he have the apothecary Wella’s, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t study and try to learn. Meyer expected him to study and learn. Trying to find a way to help his mother would be a part of what Meyer would have asked of him. Why couldn’t he apply his studies to something that mattered?

  As Finn had looked at his mother, knowing that she didn’t want him to save her, he didn’t know if he could do anything else. Either he would find something from one of Meyer’s texts, a way to understand what he might do to help her, or he would return to the hegen and Esmerelda.

  His mother stirred briefly, opening her eyes just halfway and looked at him. The slight smile that formed told Finn everything he needed. This was something he had to do.

  His mother would have to understand.

  Chapter Eight

  The apothecary shop was located in a quiet part of the Olin section. Finn had visited there a few times since becoming Meyer’s apprentice, and each time he visited, the ancient apothecary provided him with more than just the items that Meyer required of him. There was always an element of advice in what she said to him.

  The painted sign outside of the shop had a staff with a circle around it, the symbol of the apothecaries. Wella was not only knowledgeable, something Finn had come to appreciate the more that he had come to visit, but she had stocks of supplies that were fresher and purer than any other place.

  He stepped inside, taking a deep breath. The inside of the shop had a strangely pungent smell to it, though it was not unpleasant. He detected a floral hint, maybe rose or lilac, along with several different medicines that had a slightly minty aroma. Different smells mingled, making it difficult for him to identify one underlying theme to all of it.

  Rows of shelves filled the inside of the apothecary, and on them were stacks of various powders or oils or other strange items. Finn had come to learn that Wella was one of the few who stocked human remains following executions. He found that strange the first time that he had seen it, but had come to learn that the hegen weren’t the only people who believed in the power of life and death.

  Wella tottered out from the back of her shop, the stoop to her back a little more pronounced today
than it had been even two weeks before. She wore the same striped shawl over her shoulders that she always did, clutching it in each fist.

  “Mr. Jagger. I wasn’t expecting to see you today.” She stepped forward, tapping on the floor with her cane.

  “I’m still trying to learn as much as I can. Master Meyer wants me to continue my studies of all of the apothecary medicine you can teach me.”

  She laughed, the sound a mixture of a rustle of leaves and a deep throated cackle. “Is that right? Henry never does anything half-assed, does he?”

  “What does that mean?”

  She tapped her cane on the ground again and leaned close to Finn. “It means that I’m not surprised he wants you to learn as much as possible.” She smiled at Finn. “What does he want you to learn from me today?”

  Eventually, word of Finn coming to Wella would reach Master Meyer, so he would have to present something that would be believable, and something that Meyer wouldn’t be able to deny. It wasn’t as if Master Meyer didn’t want Finn to learn as much as possible, anyway.

  “I’ve been studying a book on herbs. It’s a bit dense, but I’ve been trying to work through it. I was curious if you might be able to help me understand some of it.”

  Wella arched one brow as she leaned toward him. “Let me guess. He has you reading Gisles?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Henry always preferred some of the older books. There are some newer works that are a little easier to work through, but he’s not wrong in having you study Gisles.”

  “Why does he prefer the older books?”

  “It was from a time before the university opened and all apothecaries thought they should abandon the ancient teachings as they studied. Not that any of the ancient teachings were wrong, mind you. They were simply different. Perhaps not studied quite as rigorously as the fools in the university might study, but that isn’t to say that what the apothecaries of old know is wrong.”

  “You don’t care much for physicians?”

  “Some of them are fine,” she said, tapping her cane yet again. “But some of them think that their title means more than experience. I can show you many apothecaries, even wise women, who know far more than the physicians do about basic ailments. Not everything needs a complicated solution, Mr. Jagger.”

  Finn chuckled. “What about when it does need a complicated solution?”

  “There are some illnesses that can’t be easily cured. As you will learn as you read through Gisles’s work, some of the concoctions are incredibly complex. I doubt you will find any physician capable of mixing those. They don’t have the patience, you see. Still, those old techniques are quite effective. All you have to do is ask any of the people who’ve been cured by them.”

  “What about how that compares to the hegen technique?”

  Wella waved her hand, tsking softly. “You can’t compare what I do with the kind of magic they practice. They are complementary in many ways. I suppose if you ask any of the hegen practitioners, they would share with you that they incorporate aspects of the natural world in what they do, which makes them similar to an apothecary, though the depth of their knowledge is probably not the same.”

  “They incorporate body parts,” Finn said.

  “And is that not part of the natural world?”

  “I suppose it is. It’s just that it—”

  “Makes you uncomfortable. I can see it in your face. You question their methods.”

  “Not when they work.”

  Wella grinned at him. “Do you have firsthand experience in that?” She leaned forward, watching him. “You do. Interesting. I wouldn’t have expected Henry to have pulled you into the hegen quite so soon. It’s a bit dangerous, you know.”

  “I know.”

  She cackled. “What did they ask of you?”

  Finn debated how much to share with her. Wella had an inquisitive mind, and he suspected she would learn regardless of what he wanted to share with her. If he didn’t tell her anything, then she would learn from Meyer.

  “They didn’t really tell me what they asked of me.”

  “They always tell you what they want, though it’s not always the way you think they will.” She watched him. “I suppose you know that.”

  “I have seen it.”

  Wella cackled again. “That’s an important lesson in its own right, especially when you’re taking on the responsibilities you have. It’s good for you to realize others will ask something in return. What you promise might be more than what you can give.”

  “I didn’t promise anything to the hegen.”

  “Then perhaps they don’t have you quite under their thumb as they would like. You should be careful, Mr. Jagger. They will keep working on you. You’re too valuable to them.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you have access to what they need, of course.” She laughed. “Now. What can we talk about today?” She stepped out from around the counter, tapping the cane as she walked. “The last time you were here, we discussed several different local leaves, many of which have some qualities you can use. I suspect you’ve found that information helpful?”

  “I find all the information you’ve shared with me helpful.”

  Wella stopped in front of a strange wooden carving. It was shaped something like a wolf, though larger, and with an enormous head. Dark eyes practically watched Finn.

  “What’s this?”

  “Ah. This is something from before Verendal was ever much more than a village. An old find, and a talisman that has served to make me comfortable, though I don’t think that’s its purpose.”

  He studied it. There was something about it that reminded him of some of the hegen items he’d seen with Esmerelda. Maybe even Alainsith.

  “What is its purpose?” Finn reached for it.

  Wella tapped his arm with her cane and shook her head. “It watches over us. The hegen would probably call it protective, and given that I’ve had my shop here for decades and have come to no harm, perhaps it is protective at that. The king would probably call it an item of the Alainsith, one which he would love to claim so that he could further the treaty with them.” She shrugged. “Either way, it’s staying put.”

  “I wondered if it was Alainsith.” Finn knew so little about the Alainsith, though he had seen many different items of theirs. The Alainsith had magic—real magic, not the kind like the hegen used—and lived beyond the trees surrounding Verendal. The kingdom had a peace with them, though it had been tested over the years. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “There are other Alainsith relics in the city.”

  “There are, but most of them are old and faded.” The strange sculpture was anything but that. Not faded, and it didn’t even look old. Finn could imagine that it had just been sculpted.

  “Old and faded because those in the city have failed to care for them. We might come to wish we had done otherwise.”

  “Why?”

  Wella shrugged. “Like this talisman, they are supposed to offer protection. Wouldn’t we want protection, especially out here on the outskirts of the kingdom?”

  “Protection from what?”

  Wella’s face soured, wrinkles around the corners of her mouth growing deeper. “From what? There are many things to fear in the world, Mr. Jagger. Witches. Spirits. The Alainsith. Even the gods.”

  Finn started to smile, but he had a sense that she wasn’t joking with him. “The hegen are witches, so you’re saying we need to protect against them? They’ve lived outside the city for as long as I know.”

  “The hegen aren’t the kind of witches we need protection from.”

  Finn frowned, but she didn’t elaborate. “What about the Alainsith? They wouldn’t hide from their own creations.” He wasn’t going to challenge her on the belief in spirits. There were too many people in Verendal who believed in spirits. The gods… they might be real, and they might not be, but either way, he didn’t think they were all too concerned with what happened to ma
nkind.

  “You would be surprised.” She looked at the talisman for a long moment before moving on. “Why don’t we discuss the various oils and liniments we have here?” She stopped in front of another cabinet and reached for a jar of a dark liquid. “Now, most of the time, you’ll be the one creating the liniment to ensure its purity, but there may come times when you aren’t able to concoct it on your own. Any fool can mix a few things together into a lotion and call it medicine. In your position, you will need to know whether it will be effective.”

  Wella tipped the jar to the side, and the oil flowed, but it did so very slowly. “There are other times when you might need to determine what someone has been given by another. This requires you have knowledge of the oils and various concoctions in order for you to pick apart what someone else may have thought to use.” She turned and looked at Finn. “Not all apothecaries have the same skill set, as you have likely seen. Not all surgeons know how to mix an appropriate healing compound. Even the wise women, thinking to help, are often misguided.”

  She pulled the stopper off the jar, and a terrible stench drifted out.

  “What is that?”

  “This will be one of your frequent bases used.”

  Finn stared at it, thinking about what he’d read in some of the books that Meyer had lent him, and he thought that he recognized it. Druzen oil had been described as a dark oil, thicker than blood, that was incredibly sticky. “Is that druzen?”

  She smiled. “Very good, Mr. Jagger. This is druzen oil. Collecting it from the tree is complicated. It’s much harder than you think that it would be. More than simply boring into it like when acquiring maple sap, or even oak and elm. The druzen trees are hidden deep within the forest surrounding Verendal, and in order to reach them, it takes knowledge and skill.”

  “If it’s just into the forest, why does it take all that knowledge and skill?”

  She shrugged. “I only purchase it, and do not collect it on my own. I know better than to try to fetch my own supplies. I did that once and found the purity wasn’t quite what I intended. I find it easier to simply acquire what I need.”

  Finn chuckled. “I can only imagine the kind of people you have bringing you supplies.”