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

  Horace glowered at him for a long moment, looking as if he wanted to say something before thinking better of it and storming off after the other Archers.

  Finn decided against going to Declan.

  After visiting a general store, another apothecary, then the butcher, he was ready to return to meet Master Meyer. He found him in the kitchen. Meyer looked up at him, and Finn expected to have to tell him what was going on, but it was Meyer who looked more upset than Finn.

  “What’s wrong?” Finn asked.

  “A summons.” He held up a piece of paper, and Finn recognized the king’s seal. “We’ve been called to the palace.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Finn and Meyer approached the palace slowly. The winding road leading up to it was meant to make it difficult for anybody to assault the king in the palace directly, but it did give flashes of the palace as they meandered along the street, putting it into view for brief moments before disappearing once again.

  The sun had started to set, and the streaks of orange and pink on the horizon were beautiful in the autumn air. Fluffy white clouds swirled behind the palace, in front of the sun, but had the addition of the smoke from the city.

  “I didn’t realize when I came to work with you that I would visit the king as much as I have,” Finn said.

  Meyer nodded solemnly. “We serve his justice. Most who live in the city don’t quite understand what that means, but the longer you serve, and serve within the executioner court, you’ll come to see we have a pivotal role within the kingdom.” He glanced over to Finn before turning and nodding to the palace that started to loom in front of them. Distantly, one of the church bells tolled—a deep, haunting sound. The Church of Fell. “We don’t rule, and we don’t offer any guidance to those who do, but we serve an important part of the kingdom. We serve to ensure justice is served.”

  “How often do you question what you’re asked to do?” Finn asked quietly.

  He had not struggled with that too much, but there were times when he did Some of his uncertainty stemmed from situations in which people were sentenced for crimes that Finn didn’t necessarily view as severe as the king did. Having lived in the poorer sections of the city, and having struggled on the streets himself, he understood there were certain times and circumstances that drove a man to commit acts that he wouldn’t otherwise. Those were the situations he grappled with the most.

  Not so much when he dealt with arsonists, as he had several times, or murderers or rapists. Those were easy crimes to deal with.

  “Every so often, you encounter a crisis of faith,” Master Meyer said, not looking in his direction. Another church bell tolled, this one nearby. The Giver Bell. A reminder to offer a tithe to the church, though most of the churches had dedicated giving times that made a reminder unnecessary. “There are times when you have to find within yourself whether you’re comfortable with what’s asked of you.”

  “When was the last time you felt that way?”

  “When I was to sentence you,” Meyer said softly.

  They reached the wall surrounding the palace and the two Archers standing guard at the gate. Finn doubted that was all who were there. Given the upheaval within the city, he suspected the king had far more men guarding the palace than usual. He had even caught sight of some of them coming into the city. Soldiers who were never stationed in Verendal now took up a place along the outer wall, and were occasionally stationed throughout the city along the streets.

  “I didn’t realize you considered that a crisis of faith.”

  “Did you think I wasn’t aware of the reason behind what you did?”

  “I told you why I did what I did,” Finn said.

  “You told me. And I corroborated it. I saw in you something I had gone through myself. A man who struggled with what happened with his family.” Meyer looked to him briefly before turning his attention back to the palace. “And I have to say that I trusted myself, and my convictions. Had I not, think of what might have been lost.”

  “Lena would’ve been lost,” Finn said, his voice dropping to a whisper.

  “Your sister might be the most skilled healer the city has seen in over a century.” Meyer shook his head, a hint of a smile twisting his face. “And had you told me that when I first met her, I would have thought it impossible, but she synthesizes information she reads in a way that no one I’ve ever met has been able to do.”

  “Even the hegen?”

  “The hegen have their own ability, but it’s one that relies upon power. Your sister…” Meyer smiled slightly. “I suppose some would say that what she does is a form of magic. Some would claim that her ability to remember everything she reads, pulling it all together in a way that can build upon knowledge that was passed on before her, is a form of magic. And perhaps it is.” Meyer shrugged. “All I can say is that because I trusted myself, trusted my convictions, and recognized something within you that could provide value to the king and the kingdom, there has been much more benefit than anyone ever would have anticipated.”

  Finn looked over to him. Meyer didn’t often talk about that situation, and it seemed an unusual time for him to do so now, standing in front of the palace, but perhaps it wasn’t. Meyer had needed to fight on behalf of Finn even then. Not only when he exerted his right, but then he had been forced to come before the king, to explain himself, and to justify claiming Finn—and not only had he claimed Finn, but he’d put his life on the line, risking himself in order to exert that right. Had Finn failed…

  Not only would Finn have died, but Meyer would have as well. The kingdom would’ve lost two executioners. Bellut and the magister would have succeeded. The witchcraft attack on the city—and on the Alainsith—would have succeeded. And Lena would have never learned she could be the healer that she is.

  Aside from all that, there was one part of him being claimed by Master Meyer that meant the most to him. Had Meyer not claimed him, Finn’s mother would’ve suffered in her remaining days. Because of Master Meyer, she had an opportunity to live out the rest of her days in a better state than she had been before.

  “I don’t know if I’ve ever thanked you for what you did for my mother.”

  “You have,” Meyer said.

  “Have I? I don’t feel like I’ve ever properly thanked you.”

  Meyer glanced over. “You do it every day in how you carry yourself.” He took a deep breath and started forward. “Come along, Finn. It’s time for us to meet with the king.”

  They reached the gate leading into the palace, and the two Archers regarded Meyer, then Finn, seeming to size them up. As they were both unarmed, other than the small belt knife Finn carried with him, they were not much of a threat.

  Still, they didn’t open the gate.

  “What’s going on?” Finn whispered.

  “You will have an escort,” the first Archer said.

  He was heavily armored with his gleaming silver helm, his sword sheathed at his side, and the maroon and gold colors of the king striped along the armor plate on his chest. He was a powerful-looking man, and Finn had little doubt the man would have any trouble neutralizing Finn if he had posed a danger.

  The other Archer was not nearly as large, but there was still a strange intensity to him. He stood casually, one hand near the hilt of his sword, and was dressed in leathers rather than full armor.

  He might not be as well protected, but it would allow him more fluid movement. There was a twitchiness to him, and he shifted his feet slightly, sliding them from place to place, giving Finn the impression that he was ready to dart forward in an attack at any moment—which was likely exactly what he was prepared for.

  Finally, a voice called from behind the gate. “You may open it.”

  The larger of the two Archers slid a bar across the gate leading through the palace walls, opening it. He stepped off to the side, though remained close, as Meyer, then Finn, passed through.

  “I’ve never seen Archers like that before,” Finn said softly.


  “They have never been stationed here before,” Meyer said. He glanced over his shoulder before turning his attention back to Finn. “Those are the Realmsguard.”

  Realmsguard. Even in his travels, Finn had never seen them.

  The kingdom had regular soldiers. That was where the palace Archers were pulled from. The Realmsguard were different. More intense. They were soldiers without peer within the kingdom and beyond.

  The gate swung closed, and Finn looked over to see three traditional-appearing Archers standing on the path. All had the stripes on their shoulders indicating they were palace Archers, and all carried both the crossbow and sword. Finn knew them to be deadly with both, and incredibly skilled, but it wasn’t the Archers who drew his attention quite as much as it was the Realmsguard. Finn found something fascinating about them. Maybe it was a mistake for him to pay so much attention to them, especially as he and Meyer had come here to speak with the king; Finn didn’t want to draw any additional attention and scrutiny, but he had a feeling from Master Meyer that even he was impressed.

  The Archers took up positions on either side of Finn and Master Meyer, with one of the Archers—a gray-haired man with a grizzled appearance; heavily tanned skin; and deep wrinkles in the corners of his flat, gray eyes—leading them. They marched them forward. When they reached the entrance to the palace, a pair of massive doors with engravings of King Porman’s wolf crest upon them, they paused while the lead Archer pounded briefly.

  Another pair of Archers pulled open the doors, studying Finn and Master Meyer.

  “This is the master executioner and his apprentice,” a voice said from behind the Archers. The elderly man who had spoken shoved his way through the Archers and nodded to Master Meyer and Finn. “My apologies, master executioner. With the recent events, the Archers and the Realmsguard feel they must be as protective as possible in order to ensure the king’s safety.” He glanced over to the Archers, shaking his head as if to say just how he felt about that. “Of course, the king is perfectly safe within the palace, as are you. Would you come with me?”

  The Archers stepped off to the side, allowing Finn and Meyer to pass through. Once inside, Finn glanced along the great entrance. Another six Archers were stationed inside, positioned along the wall.

  The amount of preparation suggested to Finn a greater concern for the king’s safety than even the old servant had alluded to.

  “Why has the king stayed here if he’s concerned for his safety?” Finn asked, looking over to Master Meyer.

  The servant glanced back at Finn. “He’s here for a specific purpose,” the servant said. “And while he must ensure he is safe while he’s here, do not fear for the king. He has some of his most talented soldiers keeping watch.”

  He ushered them forward and left them in a large room. A navy carpet covered the marble tile, and flames crackled in the hearth at one end of the room. The curtains were open, letting sunlight in along with a bit of the afternoon breeze, circulating cooler air in with the warmth coming off the hearth. Flowers set into vases all around the room released a floral fragrance that filled everything.

  Finn and Meyer stood in the center of the room, and Finn clasped his hands behind him as he surveyed his surroundings. The walls were all paneled wood, stained with a rich, dark brown. Sculptures were set on pedestals or situated around the floor, and one dark sculpture reminded him of a berahn, though it may have just been a wolf. He had a hard time thinking that the king would carry any decorations of Alainsith creatures, especially ones that were known as the silent killer.

  As he turned in place, he noticed that the wall surrounding the door had swords crisscrossed along its surface.

  “Some say those are the swords of the enemies who were vanquished by the kingdom,” Meyer said softly.

  “Alainsith?”

  Meyer nodded. “Perhaps Alainsith, or perhaps one of the other countries we have warred with over the years. Yelind. Host. Nemenah.”

  Yelind had been the only one Finn had heard much about, while the other wars had been ancient, from a time long before Finn had been born, a time that might have even been before Verendal was a part of the kingdom.

  He stepped out of the center of the room, making his way over to the wall so he could look up at the swords. “Which ones do you think are Alainsith?”

  Meyer shook his head. “I’m not an expert in such things. I’m merely an executioner.”

  Finn chuckled. “You’re not merely anything.”

  “The blades would be different,” Meyer said. “And likely would be decorated with Alainsith symbols. Typically shaped like leaves or flowers. Something distinct.”

  He wandered along the wall, looking up at the blades. Many of them looked similar to the kinds of weapons he saw in Verendal: straight blades and simple steel, though some had more intricately carved hand guards and hilts. There was one with an enormous blue jewel at the end of the hilt, serving as the pommel. Nearest the corners of the room, the blades changed. They were more curved and made of a darker metal, one that almost seemed like it absorbed the light of the room. Finn leaned close, studying them and looking for any sign of Alainsith writing, when he heard laughter behind him.

  He spun.

  King Porman stood near the far wall. The king was not a tall man, nor was he muscular, but there was a sense of intensity about him. Finn had noticed it during their first encounter. Perhaps it came from knowing that every command he issued would be followed. How could it not be? If Finn had that kind of power, he would certainly act similarly. The king was dressed in flowing blue robes that stretched down to his feet, though he also had a short sword sheathed at his side, which Finn questioned whether the king even knew how to use. Perhaps it was for appearances, or perhaps it was for protection against them. Though they were his trusted servants, the king might not trust them completely.

  Finn wondered for a moment how the king managed to enter the room without him noticing. Then he realized a faint crack along the paneling. There was a hidden door. That made sense. There would be no reason for the king to head through the halls of the palace if he had some hidden corridors he could travel through. And it would be one more means of protecting him if he were under any sort of attack.

  “I’m surprised you would be so intrigued by those blades when the one you wield is far superior.”

  Finn bowed, noting Meyer doing the same.

  The king laughed again, and Finn flicked his gaze up.

  “You don’t need to be quite so formal. I did call you here to discuss the current circumstances, and I believe we will have an easier time talking if we aren’t bowing and kneeling.” The main door into the room opened, and a white-clad servant came in pushing a cart with a bottle of wine and three silver goblets. He bowed to the king before turning and leaving them. The king waved his hand toward the tray. “Please. I seem to remember the last time you were here, you enjoyed the wine.”

  Finn had enjoyed the wine, but he also recognized he should be careful around the king. He served at the king’s behest, and all it would take would be for Porman to decide he didn’t need Finn’s service any longer and he would be banished from his responsibility.

  Meyer took a glass of wine but made no attempt to drink it.

  Finn followed his lead, though he sipped at the wine. There was no point in coming to the palace if he couldn’t enjoy some of the benefits of it.

  “I should start by thanking you for coming to visit,” the king said.

  “Of course, sire,” Meyer said, bowing his head slightly.

  The king headed over to the wall, looking up at the swords. “I find it intriguing you were interested in this,” the king said, looking over to Finn. “Are you something of a connoisseur of weaponry?”

  Finn resisted the urge to look over to Meyer.

  “Not so much. I just appreciate how the blades all have different appearances.”

  “Ah. Of course.” The king headed along the wall, keeping his gaze on the swords. “Many of these we
re claimed when my father ruled, and his father before him. It was a different time then, and we knew bloodshed in a way we don’t know it now. Thankfully. Time has given us insight my forefathers did not have. They believed that testing one’s mettle against even a foe as dangerous as the Alainsith was necessary. Then again, had they not done so, the kingdom would not have advanced beyond its former borders, and we would not have begun to understand the dangers that exist…” He flashed a smile. “Perhaps I should not elaborate on such things. It is unsafe for me to share, especially for those who live out here on the border of the kingdom, in a place as dangerous as this one has become.” He glanced over to Finn, taking a slow drink of his wine. “We have known peace for several decades.”

  Finn nodded. He didn’t know where the king was going with this line of conversation.

  “Verendal has known peace as well. We have such dedicated servants within the city that it’s not surprising.” He smiled and took a drink of the wine, looking over the top of the glass as he did. “Until now.”

  “We are looking into the protests,” Meyer said. “There are rumors of a movement—”

  “Not rumors,” the king said, regarding Meyer for a moment. “I understand that you have a dozen or so men you’ve been questioning.”

  How would he have heard that? Finn thought Meyer kept the number a secret, as he had kept where they had been questioning them a secret. It was easier to prevent additional upheaval by keeping that hidden from others in the city.

  This was the king though. If anyone would have access to resources throughout the city to find out what was taking place, it would be him.

  “We have several of the instigators,” Meyer said.

  Instigators?

  Finn looked over to Meyer, but he ignored Finn’s glance.

  Had Meyer learned something from them?

  Not all of them could be instigators. Some of them might have been, like the older of the men, but Finn had a hard time thinking all of them were involved, especially the boy.