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

by D. K. Holmberg

  Finn wasn’t sure if that was what troubled him, or whether it was merely a matter of not knowing what he needed to do—how he needed to serve.

  “What if justice is a mirage?”

  “An executioner who has begun to question his calling.” Garrett smiled slightly. “I must say, I did not expect my day to go this way.”

  “I don’t know if I’m questioning my calling so much as I’m questioning my role in it.”

  “If it’s not you, then it would be another. As I was saying, I have visited other cities within the kingdom. I have served as well as I can, and have even traveled outside of the kingdom. Do you know what I have seen?”

  Finn shook his head. “What have you seen, Garrett?”

  “You aren’t the only one who has this role.”

  “I know there are other executioners in the kingdom,” Finn said.

  “There are others, and not all are like you—or like Master Meyer. Far too many are like your predecessor.”

  Finn snorted. “From what I know, he was a bastard.” He stiffened, shaking his head sheepishly as he looked around him. “Sorry.”

  Garrett smiled. “Do you think the Blessed Mother cares about the words you use?”

  “There are some who would say she does.”

  “Those are people who don’t know the Blessed Mother. Once you feel the warmth of her embrace, her touch upon you, you realize that she forgives all.”

  “If you accept that forgiveness,” Finn said.

  “And do you?”

  He could feel the question, and he knew exactly what Garrett was trying to get at, but Finn didn’t know how to answer.

  Was that why he was here?

  Did he want forgiveness for what he had done, or did he just want to talk to somebody who knew?

  He didn’t have anybody else he could go to. Master Meyer certainly wouldn’t talk about it. When Finn had tried bringing up past executions with him, Meyer had simply told him that it was time to move on, to carry out their duty, then to plan for the next thing asked of them. He didn’t want to talk about it with Lena, though he suspected his sister would understand. She had shown a willingness to at least listen to him, but it was something Finn wanted to protect her from. She shouldn’t have to hear the details of his executions, and she didn’t need to worry about his internal struggle. He had tried going to Oscar before, but Oscar had challenges of his own.

  Who else was there?

  Garrett wasn’t a friend. Maybe that was what made it easier. He was someone who served the gods, and theoretically, that meant he served without question or judgment.

  “I don’t know,” Finn said.

  “The fact that you have come asking the question is enough, Mr. Jagger.”

  “It doesn’t always feel like enough.”

  Garrett looked over, shaking his head. “Eventually, you will find that the gods, and especially the Blessed Mother, will make a choice on your behalf. When they do, I hope they choose the path of the righteous.”

  Finn sniffed. “I feel like someone has chosen on my behalf already.”

  “Ah. That’s right. You were chosen for salvation. Do you think that is the responsibility of the Blessed Mother, or perhaps you follow Fell? Many young men have been swayed by the promise Fell offers, that of wealth and power.”

  Finn looked up at the portrait depicting the Blessed Mother. “There was a time when I thought maybe it was the hegen.”

  “The hegen don’t choose who lives or dies,” Garrett said.

  “They do, more than you realize,” Finn whispered.

  Garrett frowned as he looked at him, and Finn just shook his head. He needed to be careful here; he didn’t want to get the hegen into trouble for his own crisis.

  “I think I just needed to talk to somebody who was there,” Finn said.

  “It was an unsettling experience,” Garrett said. “With the uprising, and the violence that followed, I can understand your difficulty processing it.”

  “It’s not that,” Finn said. And it wasn’t. Even though there had been violence and bloodshed, and probably more deaths than he wanted to know about, none of that was what had really bothered him.

  Sitting here, talking to Garrett, Finn began to realize what it was that truly troubled him the most: The jurors had decided Walter Briggs’ fate, but then they hadn’t been there to see it carried out. They had remained inside the walls. They had used Finn and Meyer as tools, nothing more. That was what they had been to them.

  Was that what he was to the king?

  The Black Rose movement pulled on a part of him that he’d thought he’d moved past, but something else about it bothered him, and he continued to think it was more than just a movement.

  Jonrath. Reginald. The mysterious Black Rose members themselves.

  All of it smacked of a greater conspiracy… but was it really?

  What if it was nothing more than his imagination? Finn wanted there to be something more so the movement wouldn’t pull on him the way it did.

  Perhaps that was all this was.

  He stirred, getting ready to stand. “I think it’s time for me to go.”

  “Did you find the wisdom you were seeking?”

  “I think I found something.”

  Garrett looked up at him. “The Blessed Mother is always here for you, Mr. Jagger. When you’re ready to follow her path, I may offer you guidance.”

  Finn didn’t know what to say. Despite all of his protestations that he didn’t believe in the gods, that he didn’t follow their teachings, when it came down to it, when it had been him heading to the gallows, he had spoken the words of Heleth. When his mother had died, Finn had been there, in the church, celebrating with Heleth and praying for his mother to go to the Blessed Mother. And when he had this crisis, where had he gone?

  Maybe he had more faith than he realized.

  Would the Blessed Mother understand his faith was not absolute?

  He looked over to Garrett. “Thank you.”

  Garrett nodded.

  Finn headed back out and looked into the distance, along the street, and found himself drawn toward the palace. A dozen palace Archers stood outside, standing watch, but Finn didn’t push forward, having no need to do so. That wasn’t the reason he had come. He wasn’t here to try to press for access to the king, though given the number of Archers here, he suspected the king was still in residence.

  What he wanted, though, was to think.

  He stared up at the palace, again wondering if he had only been a tool for the king.

  Finn had thought he was providing a service, serving the king and serving justice, but maybe he and Meyer were nothing more than tools to be deployed.

  If so, was that what he wanted for himself?

  It was strange for him to question this so far into his apprenticeship, now that he was an established journeyman, and now that he had done what he had in service of the throne.

  But at the same time, eventually, Finn would have to find his own path.

  That was what Esmerelda had suggested to him, and he thought he understood the reason she had done so. Knowing her, she probably would have already anticipated his crisis of faith.

  Her cards had certainly predicted other uncertainty. Maybe the cards had known he would feel conflicted like this—that the Black Rose movement would pull on him and make him question what he was truly meant to do.

  Finn turned away from the palace.

  If he thought too much about this, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to do what he needed to. Maybe it would be best for him to find Meyer and his sister, then process his remaining tasks. Only then could he begin to work through his concerns.

  He weaved through the streets until he reached the old prison. Finn and Meyer both had ways of sneaking in unseen. The old prison was a nondescript-looking building, a single story of stone, and it stretched far deeper belowground than he would’ve expected, though it didn’t tower very high aboveground. Moss grew along the surface of the stone, cr
awling into the remnants of the windows, leaving it looking as if nature attempted to reclaim the old prison even though it was still inside the city. It was surprising to Finn that it hadn’t been demolished, but old buildings like this were difficult to destroy, and they held an almost sacred quality for those who lived within the city.

  He found the back entrance and snuck inside.

  Finn made his way through the hospital ward, looking at the people gathered there. Most of them were still sleeping, or seemingly so, though he couldn’t tell how much of it was from sedation, how much of it was due to their injuries, or how much of it was an act.

  Meyer sat in front of a table, flipping through the pages of a book and marking them. Every so often, he would look up, seeming to see Finn watching him, before turning his attention back to what he was doing.

  The scalp wound had been stitched and it was healing, but slowly.

  In the time since the hanging, there hadn’t been any further protests. The streets still had an eerie, empty quality to them, partly because of the continued—and heavy—Archer presence. It made navigating the streets easier in a way, since there weren’t nearly as many people out as there usually were, but it also made it harder in that anyone traveling through the streets had increased attention drawn to them. Finn didn’t necessarily want that attention, but he understood the need for it.

  He approached Master Meyer.

  “This came,” he said, sliding the parchment onto the table.

  Meyer looked over. They had been staying in the old prison for the most part, avoiding Meyer’s home for fear of reprisal. The Archers had kept the home from getting targeted, though Finn believed it a fragile peace.

  “What is it?” Meyer asked.

  “I don’t know. It came while we were here. I snuck into the house to gather some supplies.”

  Meyer’s face wrinkled. The idea that they would need to sneak into their home was bad enough, but Finn didn’t know if they had much choice.

  Meyer unfolded the paper, his gaze skimming across it while his jaw worked. “Maybe this is for the best.”

  “What is?”

  He handed the paper to Finn.

  It didn’t take long for Finn to see what it was. Another request for an executioner.

  “We can refuse. We have enough going on in the city. We’re close to finding the Black Rose—” Finn said before Meyer cut him off.

  “We don’t have so much work that we can abandon our other responsibilities,” Master Meyer said. “And we haven’t proven that there is a Black Rose, just that there are people who follow a movement.” He sighed. “I know the king thinks there’s something more, but we have to come to terms with the fact that there’s not.”

  “I don’t want anything to happen to you or Lena,” Finn said.

  Meyer grunted. “It won’t. Can you do it?”

  Finn looked over. It was from the village of Serat, which was only a half a day away. Finn had ridden through it before. “Are you sure we should do this now?”

  “Not we. You. You need to get over your fear. That means going back out.”

  He swallowed. Meyer wasn’t wrong. He knew that. “What about the protests?”

  “There have been no protests,” Meyer said. He turned his attention back to the book in front of him. “Hopefully, over time, all of that will begin to die down.”

  “Hopefully?”

  “I can’t say whether it will or not,” Meyer said. “And I can’t say how long it will take.”

  Finn wanted to argue, but he was still just a journeyman.

  “I will gather my supplies, make arrangements, and leave in the morning.”

  Finn approached the small carpenter shop. Maybe he was getting ahead of himself, but since he would be leaving the city, he didn’t want to leave Jamie thinking that he had abandoned her, nor that he would have ignored her. She probably wouldn’t think that, but he also wanted to see her before he left. It was selfish of him, he knew, much like his desire to pursue the relationship was selfish of him. How could he have a relationship when he was expected to carry out sentences and be such a visible presence in the city?

  He raised his hand to knock, when a slip of paper on a neighboring door caught his attention. The mark of the Black Rose.

  It was here too.

  Finn knocked, and when the door opened, Jamie looked out at him, smiling broadly.

  “Finn. I was expecting you today.” She glanced behind her before turning back to him. “I hope this isn’t official business.”

  He started to flush before he tamped that feeling down. “I came to see you.”

  She stepped toward him, smelling of lilacs mixed with a little bit of the sawdust that he suspected was prevalent in the carpenter shop. “You did?”

  “I had a nice time with you the other night, and…”

  She smiled at him. “I had a nice time with you as well.”

  “I don’t have too many evenings like that.”

  “Really? You seemed comfortable enough with me.”

  “Well, not so much these days,” Finn said. “It’s difficult with my position.”

  “It’s a job.”

  “It’s a job,” he said. “And that’s why I’m stopping by. I have to leave the city for a while. Hopefully not for long, but I have stopped trying to anticipate how long these assignments will take.” Most of the time, they only took a few days to a week at most, but Finn was determined to make this trip out of the city as short as possible. He didn’t want to be gone long. He had no idea what might happen in his absence—probably nothing, but there remained the possibility of something else happening. If so, Finn didn’t want Jamie to think he had left her. “I didn’t want to leave without telling you.”

  She smiled at him. “You were worried I’d be upset?”

  “I wanted to give you the courtesy of knowing that I had a nice time,” he said. “And I wanted you to know that I was hoping to see you again when I return.”

  She laughed softly and touched him on the arm. “I’d like that.” She looked along the street before turning her gaze back to him. “I can’t imagine the kind of supplies your job requires you to take out of the city.”

  He smiled to himself. She was trying to show interest in his job, though he didn’t know how he felt about that. He didn’t really want to tell her what he did. He worried that doing so would only push her away. Still, she knew what he was.

  He had to trust that if she were interested in him, what his profession was didn’t matter.

  Besides, she might understand him in a way that others wouldn’t.

  Her family had come from nothing and had moved upward, much like he had.

  And, much like him, her family still didn’t feel as if they fit in.

  “I don’t have to take much. Food for the journey. Clothes. And, of course, my sword.” He regretted saying that last part immediately, but Jamie didn’t seem to mind.

  “You have to bring the sword with you?”

  “I shouldn’t talk about that,” he said.

  “No. It’s fine.” She looked up at him, holding his gaze. “I know what you do, Finn.”

  His heart fluttered. He shouldn’t feel like this. He was a grown adult. A man. She had him feeling like a boy.

  But he had gone so long thinking that he wouldn’t find somebody who could come to terms with what he was. Finn had tried to have relationships before. First with Jasmine, though that had never really flowered. Then there had been the start of something with Helda, but she had never been able to move past his occupation.

  “I always take a sword when I leave,” he said. “I never know what sentencing will be required. But you don’t want to know about that.” He forced a smile. “I can tell you all about the trees leading up to some of the neighboring communities.”

  “I have left the city and traveled before, Finn.”

  He flushed. “That's right.”

  “But I’m sure your experience in some of these villages is different fro
m the experience I might have. I would be very interested to hear what you have seen in your journeys.”

  “We can talk about it when I get back.”

  “Where are you going this time?”

  “A village not far from here. It’s called Serat.”

  “I’ve not heard of it.”

  “It’s along the border of the forest, near the edge of the kingdom, along the Alainsith lands.” Hopefully he wouldn’t see more Alainsith destruction when he left.

  At the mention of the Alainsith, she frowned.

  There were many within the city who felt a particular way about the Alainsith, so he wasn’t surprised.

  “We’ve never seen any Alainsith during our travels. I’ve always been curious about them.”

  “You have?”

  “Only because they are rumored to be powerful. And the king fears them,” she said.

  That wasn’t entirely true, but it was close enough. “I can tell you if I see anything of the Alainsith when I’m gone, as well.”

  She smiled and turned her head briefly, looking back toward the shop for a moment. “My father needs me. I’m sorry, Finn.”

  “No. I didn’t intend to take you from your responsibilities with your father. I just wanted you to know that I’m leaving.”

  “I will look forward to your return, then.”

  She squeezed his arm, then headed into the shop.

  Finn smiled.

  Seeing Jamie again was another reason for him to hurry back.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Finn hadn’t been gone from the city for very long. Only a day. Not so long that he would’ve missed much in Verendal. That was Meyer’s point. Besides, Meyer was there. He could handle anything that came up, the same way he had until Finn had started working with him.

  He had traveled to Serat, the ride uneventful, though Finn had been jumpy the entire time, something his horse had seemed to recognize. It hadn’t made his ride any better or smoother. Confidence seemed to matter to horses, at least the ones he rented. He’d found the village quiet, which was a relief. There was no sign of the Black Rose, and no one in the village had heard of the protests in Verendal. It was almost peaceful.