Jasmine looked quite a bit different from the last time Finn had seen her. Her eyes were ringed with tears, reddened, but she had washed and changed and now looked at them with a mixture of relief and something else Finn couldn’t quite place.
“Master executioner?” she asked, coming up to them and bowing politely. She tipped her head to Finn as well. “I was hoping that perhaps I might accompany you.”
“We are heading to Verendal,” Meyer said.
“That’s fine,” Jasmine said, looking over her shoulder to the village. “I… well, I can’t stay here.”
Finn fully expected Meyer to tell her no, but there was a part of him that questioned whether or not he would. Meyer had a soft spot for those he thought he could help. Maybe he would see something in Jasmine he wanted to help.
“You may accompany us to Verendal, but are you sure you want to?”
“All I have is my grandfather here. He doesn’t think I should stay either. Given what I’ve gone through, I’m inclined to agree with him. I don’t think it’s safe for me to be here anymore.”
Finn couldn’t imagine what it would be like for somebody like her to remain in a village where they had been so close to killing her. It was hard enough for him in Verendal, having gone through something similar. He wasn’t innocent, not the way that Jasmine was, but he had nearly suffered a similar fate.
“We should help her,” Finn said.
Meyer shot him a look to silence him. “Gather what you need. We will be leaving.”
“Thank you, master executioner.”
She hurried off, and Meyer breathed out heavily.
“What will happen to her in Verendal?”
“I don’t know,” Meyer said.
“It’s not going to be all that much safer for her there.”
“Perhaps not,” Meyer agreed.
“Do you know of anybody who might be able to help?”
He glanced over. “I can’t take another in.”
“It wasn’t getting at that,” Finn said. “It’s just that…” He didn’t even know what it was. His sister struggled enough having a place for her to call her own, and he suspected that Jasmine would find the same difficulty. What training and education would she have received in a village like this that would allow her to succeed within Verendal?
Jasmine wasn’t gone long before she came running over to them, carrying a pack. Finn looked behind her and saw Wendy watching, saying nothing, along with Krell rubbing his fist into his eyes as he looked to be fighting off tears.
“Is that all?”
Jasmine looked at her pack, shrugging. “I didn’t have much I cared about bringing. I just want to be gone from here.”
They started off, and the trees around them quickly swallowed them, casting them into darkness. The sun had already fallen quite low in the sky, and Meyer took a quick pace along the road, guiding the horses, letting Finn and Jasmine ride. After a while, Finn climbed down and motioned for Meyer to take his horse.
“I can manage,” Master Meyer said.
“I know, but let me walk. Either that or we ride double.”
Meyer smirked slightly.
Finn shot him a look, and as they marched along the road, Finn looked up to Jasmine. “I understand you weren’t always from Logard,” he said after they had walked while in silence.
Insects buzzed in the forest, their sound building as night grew deeper. Until they stepped out on the king’s road, they would not be able to see much light, no starlight, and no moonlight.
“I came when I was young,” she said.
“What happened with your parents?” As soon as he asked, Finn immediately regretted it. She had been through a traumatic episode, and he certainly didn’t need to keep pressing. This was somebody who had suffered, and she didn’t need to suffer more indignity just because of his curiosity.
“I don’t really remember. My grandfather brought me to the village, saying he had to help me. Save me, I think he said.” She shook her head. “I wonder what it would’ve been like had I been able to stay in Norasn.”
It was a much larger city, nearly the same size as Verendal, and more to the north and west. “Do you remember anything about it?”
“Only the towers,” she said softly. “I have dreams of them, though I don’t even know if they are real or if they are imagined.”
“What sort of towers?”
“My grandfather says the towers I remember are the church spires, but it seems to me I remember something else. These were gleaming white stone towers, stretching high into the sky, almost impossibly so.” Her voice took on a faraway quality. “Maybe that’s just the child memories, a recollection of something that never was or never could be.” She smiled, shaking her head. “Or perhaps they are real memories.”
“I’ve never been there.”
“Are you from Verendal?”
Finn nodded. “Born and raised.”
She glanced behind her at Master Meyer before turning her attention back down to Finn. Even in the fading daylight, the darkness swirling around her, she was quite lovely. Her dark hair seemed to catch the shadows, and so did her full lips. When she looked at him, Finn could almost imagine her kissing him with those lips.
He had to be careful. That was what Meyer had warned him of. She was pretty enough, but she had been through quite a bit. She didn’t need him leering at her like that. She deserved better.
“And you are like him? An executioner?”
“I’m his apprentice.”
“Oh.”
“I didn’t have much choice,” he said softly, staring off into the trees.
“Why not?”
“I was a thief.” He chuckled. “Made a few mistakes, and by the time I first met Master Meyer, I had been sentenced by the jurors in Verendal to die.”
“You were innocent too?”
Finn let out a long sigh. “Not innocent at all, but I didn’t deserve to die. Master Meyer agreed, and he saved me.”
“I didn’t realize the executioners could save people who were convicted,” she said.
Finn looked over to her before shaking his head. “Normally, they can’t. He made an exception with me.”
“Why?”
“I’m still trying to learn the answer to that.”
They walked on in silence, though Finn would look over to Jasmine every so often before focusing ahead of him again. She remained silent, and yet she stayed awake. They walked until they reached the king’s road, and then moved off to the west, heading toward Verendal. Now that the road opened up, their path was easier to navigate.
They traveled until they reached a small side road, where Meyer guided them off.
“What are you doing?” Finn asked.
Meyer grunted. “I’m of no mind to ride through the dark. There’s a tavern up ahead, and I intend for us to get some rest. We can return to the city in the morning.”
They didn’t have to go far off the road before the tavern appeared in a small clearing. It was a simple wooden structure. Lights blazed in windows, and there came the sound of jaunty music from inside. Finn and Meyer secured the horses to a post outside before Finn helped Jasmine down from the saddle, and together, they went into the tavern.
Finn and Jasmine stood in the doorway for just a moment while Meyer went off, speaking to a short, rotund man for a few moments, passing him several coins, before making his way back to Finn and Jasmine.
“I secured us several rooms for the night. Why don’t we leave our belongings behind, and we can get some food?”
Finn followed Meyer through the tavern. It was only somewhat like the Wenderwolf. A massive hearth in a stone wall near the back of the tavern cast a warm glow. Three minstrels stomped their feet while singing in the corner. Tables were set all around, and a smattering of people sat at them, most on their own, though there were a few groups of two or three.
“Where do all these people come from?” Finn asked Meyer as they trudged up a narrow staircase to the upper
level.
Meyer grunted. “Do you think we’re the only travelers out on the King’s Road?”
“I suppose not.”
Meyer shook his head. “We aren’t. A place like this gets people from all over. You find these all throughout the kingdom. This one is a little nicer than most.” They stopped at the top of the stair, and Meyer handed Finn and Jasmine a key each. “You take the room at the end. I’ll take this one,” Meyer said, nodding to a narrow door nearest them. “And Jasmine can have the room in between us.” He held her gaze for a moment. “You pound on the wall if you have any problems.”
She nodded and flashed a careful smile.
“You can leave your belongings, and we can head down. He said he still had food. Can’t speak to the quality here, but food is food.”
“And ale is ale,” Finn said.
Meyer grunted. “That’s not quite the same.”
Meyer unlocked his door and stepped into the room.
It left Finn alone with Jasmine. They made their way along the hallway, and she paused at the door. She unlocked it, pushing it open, and stood there for a moment.
“It’s going to feel like my cell,” she said softly.
“We’re just out here if you need us,” Finn said.
She looked over to him. “It’s strange. I never would have thought that the people of Logard would’ve treated me like that. I knew I was an outsider. Of course I knew. They made sure of that. But my grandfather was there, and he had always been kind to me, and had always looked out for me.”
“I’m sorry about what happened to you.”
She forced a smile. “I suppose this is my chance for a new beginning, isn’t it?”
There was uncertainty to her, and Finn wasn’t sure what he could say to help. Only that he wanted to say something. “Sometimes new beginnings are exactly what we need. It gives you a chance to have a clean break and to find something you didn’t know you needed.”
She watched him. “You say that almost as if you have some experience with it.”
Finn nodded. “I might have a little.”
“Thank you. For everything.”
“You don’t have to thank me.”
She shook her head. “I do. I have you to thank for discovering Joseph’s guilt.” She looked down. “I never would have imagined him capable of killing someone. He had an edge of darkness inside of him, but most men I’ve met have that.”
“Not all do,” Finn said. He realized the irony of him saying that given his line of work, but he didn’t want Jasmine to think there were people like that in the world.
“I think… I think I’m going to get some rest. I will see you in the morning.”
“If you want to talk more, I’ll be down in the tavern.”
She nodded and stepped inside her room, closing the door.
Finn sighed before heading down the hall to his room, unlocking the door and dropping his pack. After closing the door, he headed back down to the tavern, where he found Meyer already seated at a table.
Meyer flagged down the server, a middle-aged man with a graying ponytail. He pointed to the mug of ale, and the man nodded, hurrying over to the kitchen before returning with two mugs of ale. Meyer raised his, nodding to Finn. “To your apprenticeship.”
“To my apprenticeship.” Finn took a long drink, and Meyer did as well.
Finn took the mug of ale and took a long drink. It was a little bitter and warmer than he preferred, but there simply was something about having a mug of ale at the end of the day.
“You have served well,” Meyer said. “You should be proud of it.”
“Thank you,” Finn said. “I don’t know what would’ve happened to me had you not saved me.”
Meyer arched a brow. “You don’t know?”
Finn shrugged. “Well, I do know what would’ve happened to me.”
“Do you ever regret it?”
It was interesting, having a more contemplative Meyer. “I don’t regret working with you.”
“We all have regrets,” Master Meyer said.
“What about you?”
“Mine are my own.”
They sat quietly for a little while. The inside of the tavern was relatively empty, though there were a few other people. They gave Finn and Master Meyer space and didn’t intrude, something Finn appreciated.
“What happened to your family?”
Meyer looked up, and for a moment, Finn worried that he had posed the question at the wrong time, or he had pushed too much.
“What have you heard?” He asked the question softly, in between taking drinks of ale, and looked over the mug at Finn. There was a hardness to his eyes.
“Rumors, mostly. I don’t even know what to make of those rumors, though,” Finn said.
“Rumors are like weeds. They love to spread.”
“I know you had a daughter,” Finn said.
“I did,” Master Meyer said.
“What happened to her?”
“I couldn’t save her.” Meyer tipped back the mug, downing the rest of the ale before setting it on the table. “I thought I knew enough, but I didn’t. Arrogance, I suppose some would say, or perhaps misguided confidence. Either way, I didn’t know enough.”
“Was she sick?”
Meyer nodded. “Sick.”
“What was it?”
“I still don’t know. It took her quickly, and she wasn’t the only one.”
“Was that when you first met the hegen?”
Meyer breathed out slowly. “The hegen might have helped, had I known enough. At the time, I didn’t. I think that’s why I’ve had a soft spot for them and their methods. I recognize they can help, although whether or not they will is another matter.”
“If you’re willing to pay the cost,” Finn said.
Meyer nodded. “All things have a price.”
“What about your wife?”
“Simpler. An accident.”
“I’m sorry.”
Meyer looked up. “I’m not looking for sympathy. You asked the question. I provided an answer.” He rested his arms on the table. Holding Finn’s gaze, he leaned forward. “Your turn. What do you know of your father?”
The sudden change of topic jarred Finn. He hadn’t expected Meyer to be the one to bring up his father. “He was a thief. Worked with the crew, primarily with Oscar, but I don’t know much about it. Why?”
“Curiosity.” Meyer leaned back. “You probably wonder if I know anything about your father, including what happened to him.”
Finn nodded tightly.
“Unfortunately, I’m not able to help you there. Even if I knew, I’m not sure it’s appropriate for me to share that with you.”
“It’s not like I’m going to break him out of prison.”
“I doubt you could,” Master Meyer said. “I remember your father’s case. He was caught pulling a job. I don’t remember all the details of it, mostly because he was imprisoned in Declan for only a few days before they escorted him out.”
“Where?”
Meyer shrugged. “I can’t answer that.”
“You can’t, or you won’t?”
Meyer leveled his gaze on Finn. “Can’t. You serve the king now, Finn. It would be best if you remember that.”
“How is it that they took him from the city without you knowing?”
“It’s not so much that I didn’t know. It’s that I could do nothing about it. There’s a difference. We serve the king, but there are limits to our role. You need to come to terms with that.”
“And if I don’t?”
Meyer shook his head. “If you don’t, you might find yourself drawn in ways that end up with you violating your oath.”
“I didn’t make an oath.”
“You made an oath to me. You made an oath that promised to serve the king.”
Finn finished his ale, setting it down on the table. “If you don’t know, then who does?”
“Perhaps the king,” Meyer said. “There aren’t man
y reasons for a prisoner to be removed from the city. The crime would have to be significant.”
“Significant?” He suspected he knew, given what he’d heard already, but it didn’t fit.
Meyer nodded. “Treason.”
“My father wasn’t the treasonous type,” Finn said.
“Not many men start that way, but perhaps he was swayed. Could he have been coerced?”
Finn didn’t know. He didn’t know his father well enough anymore. The man he thought his father to have been was something else. “I suppose I could ask Oscar.”
“Do you think he would tell you?”
“Probably not,” Finn said.
“You could still ask, but even if he answers, it may not provide you with the answer you want.”
“Do you think I could ask the king?”
Meyer started to smile. “You certainly may try.”
“You don’t think he would answer.”
Meyer shrugged. “The king may answer, but I don’t know if you will have the opportunity to question.”
Finn laughed. “The king doesn’t come to Verendal often enough for me to question him?”
“Not often. When he does, he doesn’t always choose to meet with executioners. The only reason I met with him the last time he visited was because I exerted the right.”
“I see.”
“That’s not to say you can’t ask him. The issue will be whether he chooses to answer.”
Finn stared at the empty mug of ale. “Thank you,” Finn said.
Meyer frowned at him. “For what?”
Finn looked up, shrugging. “For telling me the truth.”
Meyer nodded. “You don’t need to hesitate asking me questions.”
“I didn’t want to offend you. Wella warned me that—”
Meyer cut him off by laughing softly. “Wella? She’s a skilled apothecary, and I won’t deny that she’s observant, but I wouldn’t advise you taking advice on interpersonal relationships with her.”
“Why not?”
“There aren’t too many who call her friend. Typically for good reason, though I doubt she would ever acknowledge that.”
“I can’t trust her?”
Meyer chuckled, and he pushed the tray and the empty mug off to the side of the table, leaning forward. “You can trust her, but you should also question. That’s the lesson she seeks to teach.”
The Executioner's Apprentice (The Executioner's Song Book 2) Page 29