The Executioner's Rebellion (The Executioner's Song Book 4)

by D. K. Holmberg

  Oscar pulled the journal over and flipped through it. “This? Why?”

  “Just a feeling I have.”

  Oscar snorted. “A feeling? I didn’t realize that executioners worked on hunches.”

  Finn suppressed the flush that came to him. “Meyer would prefer I didn’t, but I can’t help it. I feel like there is something to this that I haven't been able to uncover yet.”

  “Care to tell me what it is?”

  “Probably nothing,” Finn answered honestly. “I found it in the home of a man who had seemingly killed himself.”

  “Seemingly?”

  Finn shrugged again. “That’s just it. It doesn’t really make sense that he would’ve killed himself. But I have seen stranger things, I suppose.”

  Oscar shrugged. “Can’t say that I recognize anything. It looks like a financial ledger.”

  “That’s what I figured, as well,” Finn said, taking it back. “He owed money.”

  “There’s your reason,” Oscar said. When Finn looked over to him, Oscar shrugged. “The reason he killed himself.”

  “I don’t know. It's probably nothing, but—”

  “But it doesn’t feel right to you,” Oscar stated.

  Finn shook his head.

  “I can tell you what I would do.”

  Finn stuffed the journal back into his pocket. “What is that?”

  “Nothing. Now ask me what I think you would do.”

  “What would I do?”

  “Seems to me you have a problem letting things drop.”

  “From time to time,” Finn said. It was fitting, given he’d just come from speaking with the king because of a similar issue. “But it’s more of a bad habit than anything else. The kind of thing I’ve been cautioned to avoid.”

  Until now.

  “Then look into it in your spare time. If it’s bothering you, don’t let it go. Trust yourself, Finn. It’s gotten you this far.”

  Finn smiled. “Look at you, still trying to give me advice.”

  “Did you think I would ever stop?” Oscar grinned at him for a moment, then shook his head. “There was a time when I thought I had to be the one responsible for you. Can we really have gone so far that things have changed that much?” Oscar leaned forward. “You know I’m always willing to help you, Finn.”

  “I know,” he said.

  And he did. Which made it that much harder when Oscar obviously wanted something different for himself than the path he’d been on.

  “You know, your father and I used to talk about having a place like this.” He looked around, and his eyes took on a distant expression. “It was only in passing. Your father never thought we could actually make it happen.” He smiled slightly. “There was a time when he and I would talk about what we might be able to do. Thought about what we might be if we were able to get some respectability.”

  “I didn’t know you had conversations like that.” Then again, it didn’t surprise Finn that his father would have wanted to be something more than what he had been. Pretty much everybody living in the Brinder section wanted something more for themselves. It wasn’t only Finn and Oscar, but his sister. And Helda. So many others in that section.

  “Not often,” Oscar said, sweeping his gaze around the inside of the club. He started to smile, the first real emotion Finn had seen on his face. “But often enough that he and I thought we might be able to start a place like this. Maybe not quite like this,” Oscar said, chuckling. “Your father liked a bit more of a traditional tavern. He would’ve loved the Wenderwolf.”

  “He would’ve loved Annie,” Finn said.

  “What are you getting at?” Oscar asked, though there was no real heat to his question.

  “I guess I was just saying that he would’ve approved of you and her.”

  “Of that I have no doubt,” Oscar said. He chuckled again, shaking his head. “I remember when he and your mother first met. We’d gone way back, you know.”

  Finn nodded. He had heard some of the stories about his father and Oscar before, but they always intrigued him. Partly because Oscar was so reserved, and partly because Finn had lost his father so long ago that he didn’t have the opportunity to ask him.

  “I remember. You were friends from childhood.”

  “Not always friends. He was bigger and stronger, though eventually, I got taller, faster, and sneakier.”

  “I didn’t know he was bigger and stronger than you.”

  “Only when we were kids. That changes pretty quickly, and growing up where we did, we were forced to mature.” Oscar glanced over to Finn. “Not that I need to tell you that. You went through it. Gods, had you grown up in this section, you would’ve had a different experience, wouldn’t you have? Probably get an apprenticeship, something formal where you were given the opportunity to learn under some master instructor, and from there…” Oscar shook his head. “It’s never easy in the kingdom.”

  “It never is,” Finn agreed.

  “He would have approved of you,” Oscar said.

  Finn nodded slowly. “You’ve said that before.”

  “It bears repeating. He would’ve approved of you. What you did for your mother. Your sister, especially. I worried about Lena, and thought the only way that you and I would be able to provide for her with him gone would be through running with crews. I never would’ve imagined she would have the abilities that she has.”

  “She doesn’t quite know where she fits,” Finn said.

  It was more than her healing ability.

  She had that, and because of it, she wouldn’t need other work, but Lena wanted more. Family.

  There were times when Finn felt like he’d helped his sister, and there were times when he worried that he’d held her back.

  “I think the same could be said for you.” Oscar regarded him, a bit of concern etched in his eyes. “At least, maybe it could have been said for you before. Lately, you look like you have grown more comfortable with your standing.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? Wait… how long have you been following me?”

  “I told your father I’d keep tabs on you.”

  “I’m a grown man, Oscar.”

  “Just because you’re grown doesn’t mean I don’t care.”

  With that comment, Finn realized he had not been as good of a friend as he needed to be to Oscar. This was somebody who had protected him and looked out for him in the way he knew how, first by offering him a place on the crew, then by trying to keep him from getting back into it. This was somebody who had come to see off Finn’s mother when she died, had come into the Church of Heleth to mourn in a way that felt right in the way the Church of Fell felt wrong. Oscar had even admitted to sneaking into visit with her before she was gone. Oscar cared. He didn’t have any family of his own, and though Finn had always viewed Oscar as family in some way, he had never made that clear to him.

  That was a mistake he needed to rectify.

  “Just because I’m a grown man doesn’t mean I don’t care, either,” Finn said.

  Oscar nodded slowly. “I know.”

  He looked around the inside of his lounge, the club taking on a different meaning for Finn. Oscar had done this for a reason. He wanted to leave the crew for a reason.

  Was it more than just wanting to stop fearing that somebody might jump him again?

  That had been an outlier. The attack had been unusual, even for Verendal. Something like that was not bound to happen again, so for Oscar to set up this sort of establishment, to present it in a way that would give him a chance to get out of his life of crime, meant that he was doing it for some other reason.

  What if he was doing it for Finn?

  “You don’t have to do this for me,” Finn said softly.

  “Who ever said I was doing it for you?”

  “I was just saying—”

  “I know what you are saying. I’m not worried about making a mistake that’s going to put me at the wrong end of your sword.”

  “You’d g
et the rope,” Finn said.

  Oscar glared at him.

  “I don’t say that to upset you, but you wouldn’t get the sword. At least, not in Verendal. Maybe if I caught up to you outside of the city, I could offer you mercy.”

  “Am I supposed to be thankful for the offer?”

  “You don’t want to put me in a position where I have to choose whether to bring you in. I get that. And gods, Oscar, I appreciate it more than you can know.”

  “What makes you think that’s why I’m doing any of this?”

  Finn snorted. “I talk to men like you every day.”

  “There are no men like me,” Oscar said softly.

  Finn chuckled. “Maybe you’re right. There are no men like you, but I still talk to men who intend to deceive me every day, and I recognize when someone is trying to get one past me.”

  “I see.”

  Finn looked around the inside of the tavern again, noting the paneled walls, the comfortable chairs, even the door leading to the back where he suspected there would be a kitchen, likely with ale-filled casks. Probably Annie’s ale. “When do you intend to open?”

  “Soon enough,” Oscar said.

  “Will you let me know?”

  “I don’t know if my establishment would do well with your kind coming to visit.”

  “Am I too honorable?”

  Oscar shook his head slightly. “In the Wenderwolf, it’s not quite as strange for an executioner to sit and have a mug of ale. There are plenty of other undesirables who come into the tavern, and visit Annie, that it doesn’t draw any sort of extra attention. Out here…”

  “You don’t want me to defile your new business.”

  “It’s nothing like that, Finn.”

  “I understand,” Finn said, starting to get up.

  “That’s it?” Oscar asked.

  “I do have my assignment from the king.”

  “Which you’ve never told me the details of.”

  He’d gone to Oscar and Oscar wanted to help. More than that, the king needed the Hunter. Finn had to use all his resources.

  “The Black Rose,” he said. When Oscar didn’t say anything, Finn held his friend’s gaze another moment. “I need to find whoever is responsible—and if it’s one person or many.”

  “I’m sure the Hunter will find that out.”

  Finn just chuckled, though there was a flicker in Oscar’s eyes that suggested he knew more. “You know, when I first heard that nickname, I didn’t know how to feel about it.”

  “I thought you’d like it better than Shuffles.”

  “It’s better than Shuffles, but I don’t know if I even want a nickname.”

  “Your predecessor had one.”

  “And I don’t know how he acquired his.”

  “I do,” Oscar said and shook his head. “There were stories about him. They came with him when he first arrived in the city. You know he isn’t from here, don’t you?”

  “I’ve heard.” Meyer had told him a bit about his own past, and had given Finn some insight about the journeyman who’d worked with Meyer before Finn had come to serve as his apprentice. He’d been assigned by the executioner court, tasked with serving Meyer, assisting him in his responsibilities throughout the city, since Meyer had been unwilling to take an apprentice.

  What would’ve happened had the Lion not been killed?

  Finn hadn’t asked Meyer that question, though he suspected Meyer wouldn’t have been able to pull him in as his apprentice. It was only because the King and Wolf—as far as Finn had come to know—had killed the Lion that Finn had been given the opportunity that he had. Everything connected, lining up almost as if it had been ordained in some way. It was the reason Finn had suspected hegen involvement all along, even if he didn’t think that anymore.

  “Well, when he first came, word got out about those who were questioned by him.”

  “I was questioned by him,” Finn said.

  “I know,” Oscar said. “He took joy in it. Almost as if he liked to hurt others. He liked to torment. Can’t say that I understand wanting to do something like that, and if he weren’t in his position, he’d be picked up by the Archers and placed in the very same location he worked.”

  Finn grunted. He couldn’t deny that.

  One of the things Meyer had instructed Finn about was to not take any satisfaction in questioning. Of course, Finn hadn’t needed to be instructed on that. Questioning was just a part of the job, and one of the worst parts. What made it easier was knowing he could find information to help others within the city. It was the same reason he valued the healing knowledge he’d gained. Having that knowledge, learning ways he could help others, made everything bearable.

  “More than a few bastards were left barely able to make the walk to the gallows.”

  “I didn’t know that,” Finn said.

  “There were also rumors your mentor didn’t much care for the Lion.”

  Finn shrugged. He’d heard enough from Meyer early on to know how he felt, but those rumors didn’t need to get out. “Even if he didn’t, I doubt Meyer would say that.”

  “Probably not. If I’ve heard any story that I believe about the old executioner, it’s that he is nothing if not dedicated to his job, but he’s not dedicated to the act of killing.”

  “That’s true,” Finn said.

  “I figured if it weren’t, you wouldn’t have stayed. Regardless of what you might think, Finn, you got a good heart. You always wanted to do the right thing. Not only when it came to taking care of your mother and your sister, but…” He shrugged. “You always wanted to take care of those around you. It made it easy for me to bring you along in the crew, but it also made it hard, if that makes sense.”

  “Not really.”

  “Because I knew what I was asking you to do was wrong. Even if it did put more coin in my pocket.” Oscar grinned. “I justified it by thinking we were taking from those who had more than they needed, and we deserved more than the little we had.”

  “Meyer would say even those who have more than you can still suffer.”

  “I’m sure he would, but you got to justify what you do.”

  “He also said that stealing from somebody with less hurts them more than stealing from somebody with more.”

  “See? Maybe I can agree with the old executioner on a few things.”

  “I don’t know how much the two of you would get along.”

  “We both want you to do well,” Oscar said. “So in that, I suspect we would get along just fine.”

  Finn took a deep breath. It was time for him to get going. He really did have more he needed to do, and visiting with Oscar wasn’t getting it done.

  “Maybe I can stop by after hours sometime once you open. That way you don’t have to worry about having an executioner here.”

  “Maybe,” Oscar said.

  Finn got up and headed to the door.

  “Listen. If I do hear anything about the Black Rose, I’ll send word. Can’t guarantee anything.”

  Finn wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

  “You don’t need to do anything, Oscar.”

  “Who said I was going to do anything? I just said that if I heard something, I’d send word, not that I was going to do anything about it.” He looked down at his hands and leaned back in his chair, a tight expression on his face.

  Finn pulled the door open, a gust of wind coming with it.

  “I’ve been looking into your father,” Oscar said.

  Finn froze. “You’ve been doing what?”

  Oscar nodded. “I don’t know what happened, but after you told me that the only reason he’d be brought out of the city and imprisoned was treason, I thought I could check with some of my sources.”

  All that time, and Oscar hadn’t even known?

  Finn had wondered if Oscar had been a part of it.

  “You don’t need to do that,” Finn said.

  “I do,” Oscar said, looking up. “Because that’s not the man I knew.”
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  “No?”

  Oscar shook his head. “Your father never got involved in anything treasonous. All he wanted was to help your Ma. That was the only reason he wanted to take any jobs. He wanted to provide for her, and if that meant stealing a bit from those who had more than their share, then so be it. Besides, most of the time, he spent that coin and put it right back into their pocket.”

  “I know,” Finn said softly.

  It was even harder knowing his sister’s healing skills would now be able to help their mother, if only they would’ve had the time.

  “I haven’t found anything though,” Oscar said, looking back down at his hands. “I can let you know if I do.”

  There was a hint of an accusation in it, something that suggested Oscar was disappointed in Finn. Maybe it stemmed from the fact that Finn hadn’t found anything out about his father. He hadn’t looked, at least not recently. After learning his father had been brought out of the city, there hadn’t been anything he could have done anyway. He didn’t have connections in other cities or other prisons, and even Master Meyer hadn’t known where Finn’s father had ended up. There wasn’t any way for him to figure that out short of the king telling him.

  “Thanks,” Finn said.

  “And if you hear anything…”

  Finn just nodded. “I’ll let you know.”

  Oscar looked up at him, holding his gaze for a moment before looking down at his hands again.

  Finn sighed, then stepped into the street, pulling his cloak tightly around him as the bitter wind threatened to blow him over.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The inside of the old prison had a foul stench to it—a mixture of the wounds that had festered, despite Lena’s and Wella’s ministrations, and the medicine that had been used. Wella had taught Finn how to identify most medicines by scent, and even now, as he breathed in their aroma, he could pick up on so many of them without any difficulty. He could piece together the different oils, along with the dried leaves, and even a hint of flower, perhaps a rose.

  Finn stood at the edge of the makeshift hospital, surveying the medicines arranged neatly on a table before looking at his sister in the distance. She was working her way from bed to bed, checking on each of her charges.