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

  He grabbed one of the narrow metal rods with the pointed tip. He carried it over, patting it against his hand as he looked at Sweth.

  Sweth’s eyes drifted to the rod before looking up at Finn. “What are you going to do with that?”

  “This is used to penetrate the skin. The mark it leaves is barely noticeable, which as you know is important.”

  “Why is it important?”

  “The gods want the condemned to come to them unharmed.”

  “Why would the gods want that?” Sweth’s eyes lingered on the rod, and Finn paused as he crouched down in front of him. Sweth couldn’t move. He was restrained in bindings to his ankles and wrists, but he leaned forward, trying to see what Finn was doing. So far, he hadn’t spat at Finn, which Finn considered a victory. “What do you mean?”

  Sweth held Finn’s gaze for a moment before shaking his head.

  Something didn’t fit.

  Finn turned the screws again. Now there was incredible pressure on Sweth’s shins, making him cry out briefly. “What were you doing the night of the fire?”

  “I didn’t do anything!”

  “You were seen running along the street. You were seen running into a building.”

  “My home.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “It was my home!”

  “For only a few months, then.”

  “Does it matter if it was my home for a few months or if it was my home for years? Either way, it doesn’t make a difference. I was trying to save items from the fire before it burned down. I knew that Master Johan would be angry if I failed.” He leaned his head forward. “Do not put that into my leg!”

  Finn held out the rod, bringing it close to Sweth’s exposed skin. “I’m afraid I don’t feel you’re being completely honest with me.”

  “I’ve told you everything you want to know. You don’t have to do this.”

  “You were only there for a few months. Where were you before you moved to that street in Jorend?”

  Sweth hesitated.

  Finn slid the rod into his calf.

  Sweth cried out, shrieking.

  He shoved the rod through the meaty part of the muscle of his calf, knowing it was painful, but there would be no permanent or disabling injury to it. Besides, anything he did on the calf to the muscle would be covered by the Sinner’s Cloth.

  He had learned to be careful. Injuries that were visible delayed the sentencing. Some criminals understood that, and they used the situation so that they could keep from facing their sentencing. Others feared the injury. Like Sweth.

  “Where were you before you lived in that building in the Jorend section?”

  Sweth rocked his head back and forth, staring at Finn.

  That was the key.

  Finn returned to the counter, grabbing a few more of the metal rods. They were slender, sharp, and left barely more than a drop of blood when removed.

  They hurt going in. They hurt even more if coated with various substances.

  There was one that Finn could try.

  He didn’t have any fire ash on him, but he suspected if he were to use that, he might be able to get even more answers. He wouldn’t even need to pierce the skin all the way. Maybe he could even rub it on the surface of the skin. It would burn, at least according to Wella, but it wouldn’t leave any permanent markings.

  Finn crouched down, holding out another rod on Sweth’s opposite calf. “Where were you before?”

  “I didn’t live in Jorend before.”

  “That wasn’t the question,” Finn said. He shoved the rod into the other calf.

  Sweth cried out, shrieking just as he had with the first one.

  Finn straightened, and he held one more of the slender rods. There were about a dozen of them, all of them gleaming and sharp. Finn had cleaned them many times, oiling them, as Master Meyer wanted all of the equipment well maintained, which meant keeping it oiled, though he wondered if there was any real reason to do so with something like this. “We are going to get answers. I can see that you are reluctant to provide any, so perhaps we will keep at this until you decide to tell me something different.”

  “I don’t know what more you want me to tell you. I have told you everything. I wasn’t the one to have started the fire. I was just there—”

  “I know. You were just there gathering items for Master Johan.” Finn shook his head. It was that part which had troubled him. He had been gathering items for Master Johan, but as far as Finn had been able to tell, there was nothing Master Johan had felt was all that important. Some things were, but nothing that Sweth would’ve kept on him. “Master Johan told me that you wouldn’t have anything of value at your home.”

  “Nothing that he would’ve seen as of value,” Sweth said. Sweat streamed down the side of his face, and he rocked his head back and forth, moving as much as possible, though he couldn’t move his arms or legs. The muscles were tense as he strained against the straps. “They were important to me.”

  Something didn’t add up, and Finn crouched down, tapping one of the other metal rods in his hand, looking up at Sweth. “We will keep at this until we have answers.”

  “I told you I don’t know.”

  “Then like I told you, we will keep talking.”

  Shiner pulled the door open, looking over at Finn before turning his attention to Sweth. Shiner had a bruise on one cheek and a scratch on the other, looking like he’d been in a fight.

  “Damn, Jags. Didn’t know that you had it in you.”

  “You didn’t know I had what in me?”

  He nodded to Sweth. “Look at him. Looks like he is going to need some time to rest before you question him in the chapel again.”

  “He didn’t tell me anything,” Finn said.

  “What were you hoping to find out?”

  “Answers,” Finn said. “I need proof if he’s going to be sentenced.”

  Shiner stared a moment. “Before I came to work here, I didn’t know you had to go so far to get justice,” he said softly. “Did you figure out how many people died?”

  Finn shook his head. “It’s been difficult. I finally got a list of people who lived on the street, so coming up with who died is my next step.” After what he’d seen during the fire, he needed to know who died. Finn doubted it would make him feel any better not saving the person he’d heard crying for help, but it was something he put upon himself regardless.

  “They say it was nearly two dozen, but I bet that’s too high.”

  “I don’t think it’s that many either,” Finn said.

  “Pretty bad fire, though. I went by there the other day. Curious, you know.”

  “Were you?”

  He nodded. “I think all of the iron masters have gone by there. At least, all of them who took care of him. Gives us a reason to keep him confined, you know.”

  “I don’t know if you need a reason to do that other than we have to question him.”

  “I suppose that’s reason enough,” Shiner said, smiling. “But we still like to know, you see. Hard to believe the entire street had burned. Never seen anything like it. Have you?”

  “I haven’t.”

  “I bet you see all sorts of crazy things. The old hangman brings you around everywhere, doesn’t he?”

  Finn looked over to Sweth. His head was bowed, and Finn had removed the metal rods, wiping them clean, and had removed the braces from around his ankles. Sweth hadn’t provided any more information. As soon as Finn had started pushing on where he had lived before, Sweth had quieted.

  That was the key.

  There was something more to it, but Finn wasn’t at all sure what or why it mattered. Only that something didn’t fit.

  He might have to bring Meyer in on this investigation. As much as he didn’t want to, if only so that he could prove that he was capable, he also didn’t want to make a mistake. The consequences were too high if he did.

  “I never saw anything quite like that fire when I lived in Olam.”

&
nbsp; “I don’t know that section,” Finn said.

  “Not a section, Jags. It’s a village a couple days away from here. Not surprised that you didn’t hear about it. Most people haven’t heard about it. Hell, I haven’t met a single person since I came to Verendal who’s heard of it since I been here.”

  “You came to Verendal to work?”

  “Not much in my village. I never took up a trade, so I wasn’t of much use. Besides, there weren’t much in the way of women there, if you catch my drift.” He flashed a smile and started to release the bindings around Sweth’s wrists. Sweth didn’t move. Finn was thankful that he hadn’t tried to fight, though Finn stayed just in case Sweth were to resist. “Got to Verendal a few months back, thinking I could make something of myself. You hear all the stories, you know. Men who come to the big city, strike it rich. That hasn’t been my experience at all.”

  “Me neither.”

  “You’ve done pretty well for yourself.”

  “It wasn’t always the case.”

  Shiner chuckled. “Nah, I suppose that’s true. You made something of yourself here. I hear the rumors about you, though. Heard you almost hanged.” Sweth looked up slightly.

  “Almost,” Finn said. He wanted to keep Shiner from talking about it. It was time for Finn to move on to something else, but he stayed there, troubled. There was a nagging question in the back of his mind that he felt as if he hadn’t answered. He didn’t know something.

  Maybe the answer would be found by returning to the Jorend section, though if the men cleaning the debris worked quickly enough, there might not be much for him to investigate.

  “Pretty rare that you lived,” Shiner said. “I heard you hanged but survived.”

  Finn snorted. “Is that the rumor?”

  “It’s one of them.”

  “I suppose that’s better than some of the others.”

  He undid Sweth’s ankles. Finn helped lift him, carrying him through the halls, back down the stairs, and into his cell, where Sweth collapsed. He crawled back into the corner of his cell, pulling his knees up to his chest, and he started rocking in place.

  “You did a number on him this time, Jags,” Shiner said.

  “I need you to tell me if he says anything.”

  “You know I will. Say. We had a good time drinking with you the other night. The boys wondered if you were interested in joining us again.”

  Finn nodded slowly. “I could be up for a mug of ale.”

  “Yeah. We had that impression of you. Figured it could be good for us boys to get to know the new hangman. Never got to know the old one all that well.”

  “I don’t think he ever drinks ale,” Finn said.

  “Have to take the stick out of his ass first, you know.”

  Finn chuckled while he shook his head. “Let me know what you hear.”

  Finn headed out of the prison, still troubled. He unfolded the map he’d taken from the demolition crew, steadying it again. Sweth’s name wasn’t on the map anywhere, which left Finn thinking that perhaps there was something else about it that he needed to figure out. Which home had Sweth lived in?

  None of the names really made all that much sense to him, but he knew which one Sweth had occupied, even if the name wasn’t the same. The consistency to what Sweth had claimed, the fact that he had repeated the same refrain as Finn questioned him, left Finn thinking that perhaps he actually had lived there for the last few months.

  Fol.

  That was all that he could see on that building.

  That name didn’t strike any chord with him, but maybe Meyer would know it.

  He made his way over to the Jorend section. The crew had been busy over the last few days, and had already made quick work of removing the remains of one end of the street, carting them away. They were still working on the opposite side of the street, though that hadn’t burned quite as badly as the other. As he headed along the street, the foreman noticed him and stiffened, but Finn continued past him, ignoring him. He paused at the building Sweth had occupied.

  Not owned.

  It was burned, like all of the others, though there was something about it that was a little bit different. As Finn looked in either direction of the street, he realized that his initial impression had been wrong.

  He’d believed that the street had burned from one end forward, but now as he stood there, looking along the street, he had a different impression. Maybe it was wrong. Finn wasn’t a master in fires, but it seemed to him that the fire would burn hottest where it originated, and it would burn down the farther it went from there. The fire brigade had saved one end of the street, but of course they had. That end of the street was closer to the central sections of the city. It was closer to wealth.

  The other end of the street was closer to the outer sections of the city and farther from those with any sort of money. Finn stood in place, looking in either direction, and began to realize that he had been wrong.

  Sweth was guilty.

  The fire had started there.

  Why would it have started in Sweth’s home?

  Better yet, why would Sweth have started the fire at all?

  Finn stared, troubled by not knowing, but also troubled by the fact it seemed to him there was something more taking place than what he had determined so far. Maybe it was little more than the fact that Sweth had denied having a hand in it and had misled Finn, but it seemed to him that there was something more. He needed answers.

  It meant he was going to have to keep questioning Sweth.

  As Finn turned, heading back along the street, he paused at the foreman.

  “What now?”

  Finn frowned at him. “When you get to this one,” he said, pulling out the map, and pointing to the house with the name Fol on it, “I want you to work around it.”

  “Why that one?”

  “Because it looks to me like the fire originated there.”

  “That right? Didn’t realize the executioner was such an expert in fire.”

  Finn frowned at him. “If you find anything in the buildings nearby…”

  “You want me to send word?”

  “That would be helpful; otherwise, I don’t really want to have to bring you for questioning.”

  The foreman stiffened again. “I’ll tell you whatever I find. Just leave my boys alone.”

  Finn looked over to the men cleaning up the debris. If anyone was a boy, it would’ve been the foreman, not the other men. They were all much larger than him, but Finn nodded nonetheless. “I’m just looking for answers. That’s it. I know you’re here on a job, and doing what you’ve been told to do, so just work with me, if you would.”

  The foreman nodded back.

  Finn pulled up the map, stuffing it into his pocket, and he paused at the end of the street. Sweth was guilty, but now he needed to figure out why. It was past time that things started making sense.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Finn sat at the table in the kitchen, lantern resting next to him. He checked off the list of names. Each one represented a person who owned property on the street, and each one that he had confirmed still lived. It had taken him the better part of a day to chase down all of those leads, but thankfully there were still enough people in the Jorend section who knew where many of the people had gone. They also knew whether or not many of people had survived.

  For the most part, Finn had first- or secondhand accounts of survival. So far, he had eight names that were unaccounted for, and eight people—including Fol, the name on the house where Sweth had lived—where he still didn’t know if they lived or not.

  “What are you doing?”

  Finn looked up to his sister. She had on a thick white cotton nightgown, her hair pulled back in a bow, and looked tired. She must’ve been up with Mother. “I’m trying to figure out how many people died in this fire.”

  “I heard it was a dozen.” Lena shrugged. “You know how rumors can be, though. It’s probably not nearly that many.”

  “I
have eight names of people from the street I haven’t accounted for.”

  “That’s still quite a few,” she said.

  “It is,” he said.

  “Why are you trying to figure out how many people died?” She asked, looking down at the map and then the sheet of paper with the names listed on it. “If you have the man responsible, does it matter?”

  “It’s not just about having the man responsible,” Finn said. “I need to understand why he did this. I need to know who died.”

  Lena watched him. “Some people like fire. I know it sounds strange, but I’ve known a few people who like fire. They like to see things burn.”

  “I never would’ve thought that people like to watch things burn before.” He looked up, shaking his head. “Before working with Meyer, I never would’ve thought that people would enjoy watching others suffer like that.”

  “I imagine you’ve seen some terrible things.”

  “Quite a few,” he said.

  “How is she?” Finn asked, flicking his gaze toward the door and then up the stairs.

  “She’s been fine,” she said softly.

  “Just fine?”

  Lena shrugged, rubbing both of her temples with her middle fingers, breathing slowly. “At least I have her to care for.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that with Mother here, I have some reason to remain.”

  Finn started to smile, but his sister looked down at her hands, now clasp on the table. “You have a reason to be here.”

  “Do I? I’m here because of you. Gods, Mother is here because of you. I suppose we should be thankful to Master Meyer, but I can’t help feel as if we’re imposing. When is he going to demand we leave?”

  Finn shook his head. He didn’t know if Master Meyer would ever demand that they leave. For that matter, Master Meyer hadn’t said anything about Finn leaving until after he was a journeyman.

  “I’m saving up my earnings,” he said.

  “That’s well enough for you, but what about me?”

  Lena held his gaze, and there was a pained look in her eyes.

  “I’m saving them for the family,” he said.