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

by D. K. Holmberg

  Joseph had started to turn away when Finn stepped in front of him. Hopefully, Meyer would back him on this. It wasn’t how he expected this to go, but maybe that was a lesson Meyer wanted him to learn. “Joseph Malloy, I will be detaining you for additional questioning.”

  “Questioning?” He shook his head. “What do you mean, you’re questioning me? You got the person responsible. You need to question anyone else.”

  “I have the person responsible. Now.”

  Finn grabbed for Joseph’s arm, and Joseph jerked away.

  Finn grabbed his other arm and slammed one knee into the back of Malloy’s knee, dropping him to the ground. He crumpled, and Finn pressed down on him, holding him in place.

  “What is this?”

  Finn glanced over his shoulder to see Mistress Elaine standing in the doorway.

  Where was Meyer?

  “Mistress Elaine. Good. We need members of your town council to help escort Joseph Malloy to your prison.”

  “To our prison? What do you think you’re doing? He isn’t—”

  “Innocent,” Finn said. “Now, I expect you to bring your council to me.”

  She stood in the doorway for a long moment before turning and disappearing.

  Joseph tried to fight, but with Finn on his back, he wasn’t able to fight very well.

  Finn looked down at Joseph. His comments came together, making a certain sort of sense. He thought he knew what happened, and could even piece it together.

  “I didn’t do anything,” Joseph shouted.

  “Let me tell you what I think happened,” Finn said, leaning close to him. “I think you were upset with Jasmine. You wanted her for yourself, and when you couldn’t have her, you took revenge on the man she chose over you.”

  “That’s not how it went. I’m with Wendy.”

  “You are, but you still wanted Jasmine,” Finn said.

  Joseph tried to roll, and he was strong enough that Finn struggled against his movements and worried that Joseph would eventually fight his way free.

  “I moved on. I told you.”

  “Moved on, but you still pined for her.”

  “I told you—”

  “You told me that you cared for her. You told me that she was going to get what she deserved.”

  “She will,” he sneered.

  Finn leaned closer to him, whispering in his ear. “No. You will.”

  “No one’s going to believe you. They don’t care about nothing but what they know. They saw what happened. You ask old Bester Holanth.”

  “We did,” Finn said, starting to piece things together. “He heard wailing.” There was movement behind him, and Finn suspected others from the council had entered, though he couldn’t see them, not with where he sat on Joseph’s back, keeping him pinned to the ground. “She mourned his loss. She was in shock because of it.”

  “She was in shock because she did it,” Joseph said.

  “She was in shock because she found him. You’d killed him.” It fit. By all reports that they had, Matthew was a large and muscular man, and he would’ve taken somebody of a reasonable build to overpower. “I imagine you tried to talk with him first. You tried to tell him that you were still in love with her. He tried to tell him that she should leave him and return to you. Maybe you even tried to tell her that she was better off staying in the village.”

  “She would be better off staying in the village!”

  “When he refused you, you attacked.”

  “I did what I had to do!” Joseph shouted.

  “You stabbed him, killing him, and then you left. When Jasmine found him, you had your alibi. Now she was definitely going to get what she deserved. Either way, she was guilty.”

  Joseph just shook his head. “She deserves what’s coming to her.”

  “Like Matthew Avard deserved what was coming to him?”

  “Yes,” Joseph spat.

  Finn looked behind him. The council stood arranged there, Mistress Elaine standing amongst them, saying nothing. Meyer remained off to the side, mouth pressed into a tight frown.

  “Take him,” Finn said.

  Two men hurried forward; they grabbed Joseph. As soon they did, he tried again to fight, and two more joined, grabbing his legs, and they dragged him from the village hall.

  Meyer approached, watching Finn. “Unconventional but effective.”

  “I’m sorry,” Finn said.

  Meyer shook his head. “Don’t be. An innocent woman will be released.”

  “Innocent?” Mistress Elaine said. “I’ve already told you that she—”

  “Didn’t kill anyone,” Master Meyer said. “Regardless of your feelings about her sexual proclivities, she was not guilty of the crime.”

  She sniffed. “She will have a hard time here.”

  “Yes. I’m sure she will,” Master Meyer said.

  He took a deep breath, let it out, and turned to Finn. “Now that we have the guilty party, it’s time for the sentencing.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Situated outside of Verendal and nestled into the forest as the village was, there wasn’t a formal gallows. There was a part of Finn that wondered whether or not Meyer would offer Malloy the sword, giving him an honorable death.

  Meyer looked up at the massive branch with the rope now hanging from it, nodding to himself. “This will do.”

  “It seems so… simple.”

  Meyer chuckled. “Not all sentencing needs to be quite as formal as what we do in Verendal.”

  “Still,” Finn said.

  A procession started toward them, and it seemed that the entirety of the village came with them, marching through the cobbled streets, along the narrow stream, toward the makeshift gallows situated just outside of the village. Perhaps it was fitting that they not carry out the sentencing inside the village itself. Even in Verendal, they didn’t carry out sentencing within the city.

  A brown-robed priest led Joseph Malloy forward, his wrists tied behind him and a length of rope stretched between his legs, giving him something of a shuffling gait as he staggered toward them. The crowd surrounded him, and many of them shouted at Malloy.

  Finn glanced over to the tree, to the noose, ensuring that it was set correctly, before turning his attention back to Meyer. “What do you think?”

  “I think he has underestimated the will of the village.”

  The priest murmured a soft prayer to Joseph Malloy as they marched forward, and when they reached them, the priest looked up at Meyer, turned to Finn briefly, and nodded. “I have spoken the words of Heleth and have prayed with him during his march.”

  “Thank you,” Master Meyer said.

  Meyer strode forward, grabbing Malloy by the wrists. One of the other council members carried a short ladder, and Finn hurried over, taking it. He situated it in front of the rope, and together with Meyer, they forced Malloy up the ladder.

  “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” Master Meyer asked.

  “You call this justice?”

  “I do.”

  When he was situated, both Finn and Meyer needed to work to get the rope around his neck, and once secured, they climbed down the ladder, and with very little ceremony, they jerked the ladder back.

  It was a sliding noose, meant to snap his neck, but Malloy was either even stronger than he looked or simply unlucky. He dangled, suffocating slowly. He kicked, his eyes bulging and arms flailing, though he was bound and could not move. Villagers shouted at him, throwing rubbish at him as he died. It was over in a few minutes.

  “Not a clean death,” Finn muttered. “That is on me.”

  “You intended to make it clean?”

  “I was hoping to make it quick.”

  Meyer nodded. “Then perhaps the gods gave him what he deserved.”

  He spoke a few words to the priest, then to the town council, before stopping in front of Mistress Elaine, and he held his hand out. She pulled a small pouch from within her dress, tears welling in her eyes, and slamme
d it into his palm, before turning and storming away.

  “She still doesn’t care for all of that,” Finn said.

  “I think it’s more than just not caring for that,” Meyer said. “That was her grandson, after all.”

  Finn looked back at Malloy. “He was?”

  Meyer nodded. “I discovered that while trying to find more information, and when you learned of his guilt, I realized we were going to have a little bit of trouble.” Meyer looked down at his hand and slipped the pouch of coins into his pocket. “At least she paid. I wasn’t sure if she would.”

  “What would you have done then?”

  Meyer shook his head. “Probably not have pushed the issue. There was no point in doing so. They had already convicted Jasmine Melth by the time we arrived, so we were starting off in the wrong place.”

  “What now? Are we returning?”

  “I think it’s time,” Meyer said.

  They made their way through the still-gathered crowd. Many of the villagers were talking to each other, every so often looking over to Malloy, some of them shaking their heads. One older woman had tears streaming down her face, and Finn passed Wendy standing off to the side and sobbing violently. He felt a twinge of guilt, but it was better that she know what kind of man Malloy was, and better that she not stay bound to him. Eventually, her grief would fade.

  “It’s not always the families of the victims who suffer,” Meyer said.

  “I see that,” Finn said.

  “Sometimes, you find it’s the families of those who are left behind, both the victim and the guilty. Both must come to terms with what happened and their place within it.”

  “He was willing to destroy one life for the betterment of his own,” Finn said.

  “He was young. Arrogant. Foolish. And violent. A dangerous combination.”

  “I think anytime someone kills is a dangerous combination.”

  “Even more so when they are calm and collected, and unmindful of the consequences. I suspect Joseph Malloy was lucky more than anything else.”

  “Lucky?” Finn turned and looked back at where Malloy still dangled from the tree. He doubted there would be any hegen who came to collect his remains, but perhaps they would come. Finn didn’t know how far outside of Verendal the hegen reached. “Why would you call it lucky?”

  “Lucky in that he had a moment where he probably thought he had escaped consequences. It made him arrogant.”

  “Do you think Mistress Elaine knew?”

  Meyer frowned, looking through the village. He smiled slightly. “That is an interesting question. Perhaps we should go and visit with her.”

  “I didn’t mean to ask it to cause more trouble in the village.”

  “No. It’s a good question.” Meyer sniffed. “And one I should have considered. She was quite disappointed when we uncovered his guilt.”

  “It could be just that she’s his grandmother.”

  “It could be.”

  “What if she was complicit?”

  “If she is a part of it, then the council will take action. That won’t be upon us.”

  “What if they ask us to be involved?”

  “Then I would suggest they send word to the king.” Meyer glanced back at Malloy. “We were hired to sentence the party guilty of killing Matthew Avard. Nothing more than that.” By the time they made it back to the village hall, Meyer had a determined step to his gait. He handed Finn his pack, along with the sword Justice, and nodded. “This might be something you should be a part of,” Meyer said.

  Finn just nodded, thankful that Meyer intended to include him.

  As they entered, Mistress Elaine looked over to them, a dark expression on her face. “The terms of the agreement are over, hangman.”

  Meyer nodded, motioning to the table. “I would like to visit with you, if you don’t mind.”

  “I have nothing to say to you, master executioner.”

  “I’m afraid this is under official business.”

  Her brow furrowed. “You just carried out your execution. I think your official business is over in Logard.”

  “Not quite.”

  Meyer nodded again and motioned toward the table, and Mistress Elaine reluctantly headed to it, pulling out a chair and leaning on the back of it for a moment before taking a seat and slamming her fist down on the table. “What is this about?”

  Meyer pulled out his chair, taking a seat. Finn debated whether or not to join him but thought that it would be best if he stood.

  “You never shared with us that Malloy was your grandson,” Meyer said.

  “It was of little added value.”

  “I didn’t know until I had a conversation with Krell.”

  “That old fool. There isn’t much he can share with you. Look what happened with his daughter.”

  “What exactly happened with his daughter?”

  “Got caught up with those people. Witches.” She sneered, waving her hand. “And then she disappeared. Figures something like that would happen to her. No different than her daughter.”

  “You didn’t like Jasmine very much,” Meyer said. “It’s more than about her interest in the men of the village.”

  “Interest?” Elaine looked up, shaking her head. “If it was just about interest, it wouldn’t be a problem, but that girl—”

  “Woman,” Meyer corrected.

  “Fine. That woman,” she spat, “was a corruption. Like all of her kind.”

  “You thought she was getting what she deserved, as well.”

  “I… what?”

  “You knew your grandson was the one who had killed Matthew Avard.”

  “I wouldn’t have called you here if I intended to sentence my grandson,” she said.

  “No, but you did hope you could push through Ms. Melth’s guilt. You were hopeful that by forcing through the conviction, the sentencing, your grandson would stay free.”

  She said nothing. The darkness in her eyes answered the question for Finn, though. She had known. What would happen in the city if others were to learn?

  “How long have you led the village?” Finn asked.

  She looked over to Finn, disdain sweeping across her brow. “Who are you to ask me any questions?”

  “This is Finn Jagger, as you already know. He is my apprentice, and in that role, he serves the king, much like I do. You will answer the question.”

  She glared at Finn. “I’ve led the village for the better part of twenty years. Long enough to know what kind of people are good for our kind.”

  “And you didn’t care much for Ms. Melth.”

  “Care for her? She was fine as a child, but the woman she became was undesirable.”

  “I have a feeling you don’t have to worry about that any longer,” Meyer said.

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Had you paid any attention to your villagers, you would’ve known the young woman intended to leave. All you had to do was permit it.”

  “I didn’t stop anything.”

  “No?” Meyer leaned forward, holding her gaze. “What about your grandson?”

  “I didn’t stop him from leaving either.”

  “I wonder what you would have said had he come to you, telling you he intended to leave the village and to go with her.”

  Elaine said nothing.

  Meyer leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. “The full report of my findings will be submitted to the king,” Master Meyer said. “As is the nature of all such convictions. Now, I can include all aspects of the report, or if you were to prefer, I could leave out certain details.”

  “What details do you intend to leave out?”

  “That depends on if you no longer lead the council.”

  “The king has no authority within the village.”

  “The king doesn’t need authority over your council. The only thing that matters is that you step down.” Meyer leaned toward her. “Otherwise, not only will the king learn of what you did, the others in your villag
e will.”

  There was a hint of danger in his tone, more than what Finn expected from Meyer. Finn began to wonder if perhaps Meyer allowed himself to dip down into a bit of vengeance.

  “I suppose I have gotten up there in years. Perhaps it’s time I no longer serve.” She took a deep breath, drawing herself taller as if making some grand decision.

  “Perhaps,” Meyer agreed. He nodded to her, getting to his feet, and motioned for Finn to follow him. “I will be checking in with your village.”

  She said nothing.

  Back outside, Finn looked over to Meyer. “Is that justice?” he asked softly.

  “That is as much justice as we will find in a place like this,” Meyer said. “Unfortunately, that is as far as I can push it.”

  “You don’t have to file a report with the king,” Finn said.

  Meyer shook his head. “No. That would go unread.”

  “You were counting on her not knowing.”

  “I’m counting on her to step down. Someone willing to convict an innocent woman should not lead her village.” He glanced over to Finn.

  “What now?”

  Meyer looked up at the sky. “I suppose we could stay another night, but given everything we’ve seen and experienced here, I’m not so sure I want to do so.”

  “I’m not so sure I want to, either,” Finn said.

  “Gather the horses. We will be on our way. I intend to push through the night.”

  “Is it safe? The horses could get injured.”

  “I didn’t say we would ride hard. I only said we would ride through the night.”

  There was a small road leading out of the village, and once they reached the king’s road, it would be a much easier journey, so perhaps Meyer counted on that. They stopped at the stable, and Finn gathered the horses, brushed by one of the stable hands and looking better than when Finn had left them before, strapping saddles to them, before guiding them back out. It seemed amazing to Finn that they had only arrived the night before, and even though it was late in the day, he didn’t blame Master Meyer for not wanting to linger any longer than they needed to.

  They started toward the edge of the village, and once they reached it, a dark-haired woman came running up to them.