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

  He didn’t feel like going home just yet.

  The execution would be carried out soon. Finn would be expected to burn Sweth. In the time that he had served Meyer, Finn had never built a pyre and didn’t know all that was involved. He needed to read a book Meyer had on such techniques, but at the same time, he didn’t feel any interest in doing so, either.

  Finn let out a long, frustrated breath, looking up at the sky. A heavy, near-full moon shone in the sky. He could imagine Esmerelda in the hegen section, studying the moon, looking for magical power within it, or perhaps using some of the power of the moon itself in order to cast her hegen magic. There was a part of him that wanted to go to her, to see what he might find, but there was no time. Even if she offered him a card, he wouldn’t be able to do anything with it.

  More than that, Finn didn’t know if he deserved to go to the hegen. For all of their focus on death and how they used the remains of those sentenced in their magic, he didn’t have the sense from Esmerelda that she enjoyed the macabre. Given the way that he had approached Sweth and how hard Finn had pushed him, Finn felt dirty.

  He couldn’t go back to Meyer’s home, either.

  Not only did Finn feel like he couldn’t face Meyer, not yet, he didn’t feel like he could face his sister.

  Was this what he was to become?

  Since serving Meyer, Finn had felt as if he were doing something honorable. This was the first time when he had started to question it.

  And it wasn’t anything that Meyer had forced him to do. All of that had come from Finn.

  He had gone too far.

  Would he do it again?

  Meyer had warned him. Finn had not listened.

  He found himself wandering the streets, and when he reached the Wenderwolf, watching the glowing lights inside, the music drifting from the closed door, he leaned in the shadows, watching it. There was a time when he had been welcomed into the Wenderwolf, and now he didn’t think that he could ever go back. He had been a thief, but it wasn’t until he had left that type of work that he had begun to feel as if he were truly dishonorable.

  There was a part of him that wanted nothing more than to go inside the tavern and take a seat. Oscar would likely welcome him. But Finn didn’t want Oscar to welcome him. Not with what he had done.

  Instead, he stayed in the shadows, staring at the tavern, listening to the music, avoiding going anywhere else until well beyond curfew, and well beyond the time when he should return. Only when he thought Meyer and his sister would be asleep did he start to head back, and when he did, he still couldn’t shake the unease he felt.

  He had crossed a line.

  For his sake, and for his sister and mother who needed him, and Meyer’s home as a place to stay, Finn hoped he could come back from it.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The flames crackled in front of him, and Finn forced himself to watch. As Sweth burned, the flames shifted to a darker color, taking on a bit more heat and a blacker sort of smoke. Meyer had shown him that there were accelerants to use to help the fire burn hotter and faster, and he had shown Finn how to bind Sweth’s mouth, but the bindings only held for little while before the screaming began.

  The pyre had been set outside of the city, away from any other structures, including the hegen section and the Raven Stone, so that it didn’t run the risk of burning it.

  “I’ve never cared for this sentence,” Meyer said softly.

  He’d been angry when learning how Finn had pushed Sweth after his sentencing. Angrier than Finn had seen him before. Finn still didn’t feel as if he had all the answers. Despite sentencing Sweth, the investigation felt incomplete.

  A priest of Heleth stood off to the side, a young man with a clean-shaven head and the hint of whiskers growing on his upper lip.

  Finn look over to see the arranged jurors, along with the magister, standing in a line far enough away from the fire they wouldn’t have to be subjected to its heat but close enough that they could watch. Each of them stared at the burning pyre, some with looks of horror in their eyes—Isabel, Horace, and Bethany especially—while others appeared satisfied.

  “What happens when he’s gone?”

  “In the case of death by fire, we need to ensure the fire has burned completely out,” Meyer said. “The key is to place enough accelerant around it to ensure that it burns hot and fast.”

  “Why?”

  “Do you want to be out here any longer than necessary?”

  Finn look behind him. The crowd had assembled, the same way that they assembled for every execution, though they were farther away than typical. “I suppose not.”

  “Tahn’s store has been good about ensuring that we have the necessary supplies to burn through this quickly, but even with that, we must wait for the timbers to burn.”

  The pyre consisted of three massive timbers formed into a triangle, smaller logs set around the base, and an enormous pole that had been set deep into the ground in the center of it. Sweth had been strapped to the pole.

  When he started screaming, he called out in Yelindish, a bit of a harsh tone. It surprised Finn that he had never heard him speak with an accent. As he cried out, as he fell into his death throes, he defaulted to his native tongue.

  “He was here for a reason,” Finn said.

  “Don’t,” Master Meyer said.

  “You don’t want me to look into it.”

  “You’ve done what was needed. I asked you to investigate the fires, which you have done, and I asked you to ensure that the appropriate sentence was carried out, which you have also done. Anything more than that…”

  “Anything more than that would be what I should do,” Finn said. “Are we not to make sure we have all of the information?”

  Meyer shot him a hard stare at the idea that Finn would raise that point again. “We have all of the information. And you have gone beyond what you need to do.”

  “Something doesn’t smell right to me.” This was the last he’d push it, but he needed to say something.

  “That’s just the fire,” Meyer said.

  Finn glanced over, and he found Meyer with his jaw clenched and an uncertain look in his eyes. Finn had seen that look from him before, and he recognized the darkness in Meyer’s eyes, the worry that was there.

  Meyer knew what Finn was getting at, but he also knew that they didn’t have anything he could necessarily do without risking angering Meyer. Possibly even the magister and the jurors.

  “I could—”

  “Don’t,” Meyer said.

  Finn knew better than to argue at this point. If Master Meyer didn’t want him to get involved, then he certainly could not get involved. At least, he couldn’t get involved as far as Master Meyer knew. If he investigated on his own and uncovered something, maybe he could share it with Meyer. Then he could help solve what truly had happened there.

  They stood there for a little while longer, watching the flames burn. It happened quickly, and for that, Finn was thankful. Neither of them wanted to be here.

  The burning and the flames died out quickly. Eventually, they were left with the smoldering remains of the fire, and the crowd behind them dissipated. There were some who lingered a little bit longer, and as they did, Finn couldn’t help but question whether they were like those his sister had mentioned, people who enjoyed watching fire burn for the sake of burning. He hadn’t encountered anyone quite like that yet. When he had interviewed Sweth, he didn’t have that impression of him. He had another reason.

  Finn turned and saw that most of the jurors had started away. The magister, dressed in a velvet robe of office, holding a long, slender silver staff marking his position, stood next to Bellut. Bellut had on a deep green jacket and pants, a short sword sheathed at his side, and seemed to watch the burning of the pyre with interest.

  Finn studied them, but neither man noticed him. They had turned off to the side, so that they were looking over toward the city, with the fire blazing near them. Meyer moved away, heading off to
ensure that the pyre burned completely, leaving Finn alone.

  The other jurors had all departed.

  The magister spoke softly to Bellut, his head off to the side listening. Had Finn not approached, he might not have heard anything, but as it was, he could make out the sounds of their quiet conversation, even if he couldn’t understand what they were saying.

  Bellut suddenly strode away, heading back toward the city, leaving the magister standing there alone until he caught sight of Finn and made his way toward him.

  “Magister,” Finn said. “What were the two of you talking about?”

  The magister’s gaze darkened. “Official business of the king.”

  “The king?” Finn watched him. What would he say if he knew Finn’s suspicions about Bellut?

  “You understand we serve the king. As do you, now that you are apprenticed to the executioner. We all must work together, Mr. Jagger.”

  “I understand my responsibilities,” Finn said.

  Master Meyer remained near the pyre, his hands clasped behind him, as he watched the blaze burning down. There was something in his eyes Finn could not quite read.

  “I was curious after the two of us talked the other night,” Finn said to the magister. “You said that you hadn’t always been in Verendal.”

  “I studied at the university,” the magister said. “In order to be assigned as magister, one must devote themselves to their studies.” He smiled, managing to make himself look almost endearing. “If you devote yourself to your studies in the same way, and with the same passion, you will likely do well as an executioner.”

  “That’s what Master Meyer tells me,” Finn said.

  “You don’t believe him?”

  Finn shrugged. “I need to devote myself to my studies. That’s the only way I will get what I want.”

  “And what is it that you want?”

  Meyer turned toward him, glancing from Finn to the magister. “There was a time when I wanted nothing more than to be a part of a crew,” Finn said, looking at the fire. The heat wafting off of it was not nearly as potent as it had been before, and there was nothing remaining of Sweth, just the burning timbers that lingered. “It was important to me.” Finn shrugged. “I think it was about acceptance, or maybe it was about finding what I’d lost.”

  “What had you lost?” The magister asked.

  “My father.”

  “Is that right? I wasn’t aware you lost your father.”

  “My father got caught up in working with a crew,” Finn said. “It changed things for him. Too many things. It changed things for the rest of the family as well. He did what he did because he thought it was necessary to protect us. Protect my family.”

  “You don’t think he protected you?”

  “I don’t know what he did,” Finn said. “He was caught and then taken from the city.”

  “Taken?”

  Finn looked at the magister. “I thought he was little more than a thief, but for him to have been taken from the city… Well, it tells me that he was involved in much more than what I knew. It tells me that maybe he was something more than just a thief.”

  “What was he?”

  “I don’t know, but from what I’ve understood, there’s only one reason for a prisoner to have been brought from the city.” Finn watched Meyer for a long moment before tearing his gaze away and looking at the magister. “Treason.”

  The magister smiled slightly. “Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately in this instance, that is not exactly correct. Treason is a crime usually sentenced by death. Depending upon the person, there are reasons to question those involved in treason. Especially if they are guilty of spying for someone. The king then brings them to the capital where he can oversee the questioning.”

  “Spying.”

  “Gaining intelligence, using that against the kingdom and the king himself. A dangerous game, as you are aware, Mr. Jagger.”

  “I’m not aware of anything that approaches spying or treason,” Finn said.

  The magister nodded slowly. “Perhaps that is for the best. We try to protect the public from such crimes. They are dangerous, and most don’t fully understand how insidious such crimes can become.”

  “I’m sure,” Finn said.

  “I am certain that you are.”

  Meyer came over to him. “Magister,” he said, nodding slowly.

  “Master Meyer. I was having quite the conversation with your apprentice about the legal system. You have quite the inquisitive apprentice. It’s good he has such a mind, but one must be cautious. I have known far too many people with such curiosity who have suffered for it.”

  He smiled tightly at Finn before turning and leaving him.

  Meyer stared at Finn. “What was that about?”

  “I haven’t really had a chance to talk with the magister before.” Finn just shook his head. “He’s always been pleasant with me.”

  “Scholars usually are,” Master Meyer said. “He took the job because he is the king’s lead scholar in Verendal, not because he has any interest in sentencing criminals.”

  “But he doesn’t provide the sentencing.”

  “Not directly. He offers guidance and little else. Occasionally, he can intervene, but only if he feels there is a reason to do so.”

  Meyer motioned for him to follow. They started toward the city; now that the flames had started to die down, the Archers and the fire brigade would ensure the rest of it burned all the way down. Finn was thankful they didn’t have to linger any longer to watch the rest of the fire burn out, but he doubted Meyer would permit him to do what he really wanted, which was to go after Bellut, and to try to get more information.

  “You have to stop with this, Finn.”

  As they reached the Teller Gate, the crowd of the city had started to ease. The festival was different from most. Typically, there was a crowd that lined the street, hawkers selling items. Today was different in that there were fewer stands, as many of them had moved outside of the city walls.

  “There was another prisoner at Declan. What happened with him?”

  “I—”

  “As I thought.” Meyer turned to him. “You neglected him. You did start with your questioning, I’ll grant you that, but you got focused on Sweth and this perceived plot within the city. It’s time for you to put that aside and return to your studies.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  And he was.

  “Each of us find ourselves drawn into a particular case. There are always some that pull us for one reason or another. I can’t say what draws you to one case more than another, but that is not on me to explain. What you need to do is find a balance.”

  “I have a balance,” Finn said.

  Meyer shook his head. “No. You do not. You have been given multiple assignments over the last week or so, and which ones have you focused on?”

  “On Sweth,” Finn said slowly.

  “On Sweth. Now, it’s understandable given that you believed the time commitment was necessary. Unfortunately, by doing that, you abandon other parts of your responsibility. Have you found an elixir to help Moira?”

  Finn shook his head. “I’ve been looking but none of the combinations has made a difference for her.” Lena had helped, but neither of them had found anything.

  “Of course you haven’t. Let me tell you what you’ve refused to learn about her. She is wasting. The same as your mother. There is no cure.” The words were harsh. “Any number of stimulants might work, but all have the same temporizing effect, and all will eventually fail. As you’ve no doubt found with Moira.”

  Finn swallowed. He and Lena had just thought they hadn’t found the right compound.

  “That was the lesson I wanted you to learn.”

  Finn had seen his mother suffering, wasting, but there had always been a part of him that assumed she would eventually improve. What if she wouldn’t?

  “It’s time you dedicate yourself to the reason you’re here.” Finn nodded carefully. “Now th
at we have that completed, I would like for you to gather some supplies. Visit the general store, the apothecary, and if you have any need to stop at Declan, you certainly can, but you will meet with me this evening. It’s time for us to regroup and work together once again.”

  Meyer started away from Finn, and Finn breathed out slowly. Meyer wasn’t wrong.

  Worse, Finn felt as if he’d suffered a setback. Meyer was upset with him, and having had a measure of independence, having it snatched away from him again felt as if he were moving backward rather than forward in his training.

  Finn had to be careful.

  He was close to Wella’s shop and decided to start there. If he had errands to run, it was time for him to finish what he needed to gather and then be done with it.

  He was approaching the shop when he caught sight of Bellut.

  He was standing near an alleyway, talking to somebody within it.

  For a moment, Finn debated what to do, but his irritation and his curiosity overrode any rational thought. He made his way to the far side of the street and stood, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, but dressed in his executioner leathers, it was difficult for him to conceal himself in the shadows altogether. He couldn’t see who Bellut talked to, but he found it odd that he would be there in this section.

  Finn needed to get closer. He needed to know who Bellut was talking to. He crept across the street, moving a little bit closer and listening. He didn’t hear anything.

  He looked in either direction but didn’t see anything.

  Bellut moved on, leaving the alleyway empty.

  Finn looked over to Wella’s shop before looking back to Bellut. He moved along the street, and Finn considered what he should do. He could still run his errands, and maybe he would put off going to Declan for another day, but having an opportunity to follow Bellut…

  It was too good of an opportunity to pass up.

  Meyer would have to understand.

  Finn stayed behind him, moving slowly and carefully, but he didn’t do anything that exciting. Bellut made his way down the streets, pausing at some stores but never going in. At one point, he reached another alleyway, and he didn’t step down it, the same way he hadn’t before, but he paused and looked as if he were talking to someone.