The Executioner's Right (The Executioner's Song Book 1)

by D. K. Holmberg

  There was something more in the question, and Finn could practically hear how she wanted to know if he would draw more money soon. Had the job gone the way that he’d hoped, it wouldn’t be an issue. He would have had a significant haul. Enough coin that they could go and see if a physician—not the bastard who’d chased Finn away, but a better and smarter one—would be able to do anything for her.

  Only, there wasn’t anything that Finn could tell his sister. What she wanted wasn’t anything he could offer. She wanted hope.

  “If it’s working, you should keep doing it,” he said.

  “I don’t know if it’s working or not.” She continued to swirl the mug. “She told me to come back if it didn’t make it better. She thought she might have something more she could offer us.”

  “At what cost?”

  “I don’t know. She didn’t say.”

  Finn turned to his sister, taking the mug from her and setting it down on the table. He wanted to dump it out. If it came from a hegen, he wanted to discard it and keep his mother from drinking their magic in, but something stopped him. Maybe it was the look in his sister’s eyes. Maybe it was the fact that he didn’t have anything more that he could offer.

  “Promise me that you’ll be careful. Don’t commit to something you can’t do.”

  “What about you?” When he didn’t answer, she shook her head, though he still didn’t see any recognition in her eyes about the Sinner’s Cloth he wore. “I don’t know everything that you’re doing, Finn, but I know it’s not always safe. You could end up just like Father—or worse. I… I can’t lose you, too.”

  Finn swallowed back the lump in his throat.

  He’d almost died. Had he been hanged without a chance to tell her what happened, he had no idea what would have happened to her. Oscar might have helped Lena and Finn’s mother, but there was only so much the Hand could do.

  “Listen, Lena. I’m working on something different. I can’t explain it to you just yet”—there was no point in explaining it until he knew whether the king would uphold the Executioner’s Right—“but I might have something more I can offer Mother. Just don’t get locked into the hegen before I get a chance to help. Can you promise that to me?”

  Lena looked at their mother. Tears welled up in her eyes. “I’m tired, Finn.”

  Finn took her hand and squeezed. “I know you are. I promise I’m going to do all that I can to help you and Mother. You just have to give me a little bit more time.”

  Lena nodded absently, staring at their mother. “I’ll do what I can.”

  “That’s not what I’m asking.”

  “I know, but I don’t know when you’re going to return—or if you will. You disappear, and I have to do everything that I can to help Mother while you’re gone. When she starts to get worse…”

  If she got worse, Lena would do whatever she needed.

  Including going to the hegen again.

  How much of herself would she sell?

  He sighed. The crew couldn’t help him now.

  There would be no running from this.

  Not from his mother. Not from his sister. And not from his fate.

  He could only hope the king would give him a chance.

  Chapter Twelve

  The chapel felt different from this vantage.

  Finn remembered the times he’d been there all too well. Sunlight streamed in from a stained-glass window overhead, giving swirls of color across the walls. The markings on the ceiling were difficult for him to read in the bright light, the colors blurring the shapes so that he couldn’t see anything about them.

  The man sitting in the chair wasn’t strapped in it the way Finn had been. It surprised Finn. The man had to outweigh him by ten stone, and his size reminded Finn of Rock. Muscular like him, too.

  Master Meyer stood across from the prisoner, seemingly unconcerned by the lack of restraints on the man. His technique was different from that of the Lion.

  Not entirely, though.

  Meyer had gone through the tools resting on the table the same way the Lion had done with Finn, describing them in incredible detail. Finn found himself looking down at the table, studying the tools and trying to keep the disgust pushed to the back of his mind.

  He had to tolerate this now.

  Not that he had to be the one to carry out anything. That would be on Meyer. Finn only had to be there, to learn, to observe.

  “You will find that you want to answer my questions,” Master Meyer said. “To do otherwise will incur my irritation. Trust me when I tell you that you do not want my irritation.”

  The man looked over at Meyer, then his gaze drifted past him, locking eyes with Finn.

  He knew many other crews, but this wasn’t someone he recognized. Lind Rassum, a criminal of questionable past. Meyer hadn’t given Finn much more about him than his name. Finn suspected that was part of a test.

  Given his size, Lind was probably a bruiser, though Finn would have said the same about Rock, and he served mostly as a scout. The prisoner had a wide nose that looked as if it had recently been broken and a yellow bruise on one cheek that looked to be healing.

  “I’ve told you the truth.” For a large man, he had a surprisingly soft voice.

  Not like Rock. His was loud. Brash. One that had always made Finn laugh.

  “You’ve said the same to each inquisitor. You would continue to deny me the truth? The gods watch as you speak, Lind, so find the truth within you to appease them.”

  “I’ve told you the truth. The damn Archers are rounding up everyone who has even the smell of…”

  “Of what?” Meyer remained a pace away from him. No closer. His voice was low, dangerous.

  Had Meyer been the one to question him, Finn didn’t know if he would have been able to hold out. There had been something about the Lion that he’d wanted to ignore. With Meyer, he had a different sense. He wanted to tell him anything. Whatever he wanted to hear. Whatever it would take to keep him from turning back to the tools.

  “Nothing. It don’t matter. If you’re here, they’ve already made up their mind.”

  “Who has made up their mind?”

  Lind looked at Meyer defiantly. “The jurors. Magister. Gods, probably even you. Do what you need to do. Get your kicks. You can’t hurt me. I done what I had to.”

  Meyer sighed. “I assure you I can most definitely hurt you.”

  He turned toward Finn and stopped at the table with the torture tools. When he’d described them, it had seemed as much for Finn’s benefit as for Lind’s. Meyer began to move them around, shifting some of the tools along the top of the table, sliding the boots over so they would be visible. Finn hadn’t known about the boot before Meyer had started describing it. The tool was different from what the Lion had used. Made of a dark iron, it latched on to the prisoner’s foot. From there…

  Finn didn’t want to think of what the blades buried in the bottom of the boot would do when the knob holding them twisted.

  “What do you think?” Meyer whispered.

  Finn looked up. He wasn’t accustomed to Meyer asking him questions like that.

  “I don’t think he’s guilty of anything.”

  He kept his voice low and hoped it didn’t carry. Even if it did, it wouldn’t help Lind at all. It wasn’t like Finn had the authority to release him.

  “Why not?”

  Finn looked past Meyer and focused on Lind. He sat in the chair, his shoulders sagging, not fighting or trying to do anything—despite the lack of straps around his ankles and wrists the way Finn had when he’d been brought to the chapel.

  His head leaned forward, and he looked at the ground. His breathing had quickened when Meyer came over, suggesting to Finn that he was scared.

  “A feeling, I guess.”

  “The same feeling you had with Jon Habrans?”

  “I felt he was guilty,” Finn said.

  “Exactly. That same feeling?”

  Finn kept his gaze on Lind. “That was differ
ent. With Jon, I could tell he was lying.”

  “You can’t tell that with Rassum?”

  Finn shook his head slightly. “It’s not the same. I think he’s telling you the truth.”

  “As he knows it.”

  Finn frowned and looked up at Meyer. “Isn’t that the case with all men?”

  “It is.”

  “You don’t think he’s telling you the truth?”

  “I think he’s telling me his truth. That’s not the same as my truth. Or yours.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “What he’s shared with us is the truth as he knows and believes it to be.” He looked down, moving one of the tools—a long, pointed rod—off to the side, where it struck another tool and created a loud clang. Lind’s breathing quickened again. “That doesn’t mean his truth is the truth I seek. That doesn’t mean his truth is the truth of the king. All it means is that it’s the way he sees the world.”

  “If you say so.”

  “What were you accused of doing?”

  “Breaking into the viscount’s home.”

  “Did you do it?”

  Finn frowned. Was this another test? It was a strange one, if so. “You know I did.”

  “Did you think what you did was wrong?”

  “What?”

  “Did you think what you did was wrong?”

  “I know I wasn’t supposed to be there, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

  “That’s not the same. Did you think it was wrong?”

  “According to the laws of the city, yes.”

  “Under what laws wouldn’t it have been wrong?”

  Meyer watched him, and Finn couldn’t tell what he was trying to get at. He still suspected this was some sort of test, though if that were the case, then it was a strange kind of test.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Did you think it was wrong?” Meyer asked again.

  “No,” Finn said finally.

  “Why not? You broke into the viscount’s home to take something that did not belong to you. How would that not have been wrong?”

  Finn shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “I think it does. It gets to the heart of why I invoked my right.”

  “Because I wasn’t doing it for myself.”

  Meyer held Finn’s gaze then turned back to Lind. “Do you have anything more you’d like to say?”

  “I’ve said what I can say. It’s enough.”

  “You were beginning to tell me about something else. I would like to know why you feel you were unfairly targeted.”

  “You don’t care. You’ve already made up your mind. I can see that on your face.”

  “Can you?” Meyer started toward him and held one of the long, slender rods. The end was pointed and Finn wondered what Meyer might do with it.

  “You’re the same as the others who come here. Threatening and trying to prove that you’re stronger than me. It don’t matter. You’ll do what you want regardless.”

  “Why do you feel you’ve been unfairly targeted?”

  “Because I have. Blame me for going to the hegen all you want, but that’s not a crime.”

  Finn looked over to Meyer before turning his attention back to Lind. That was why he was here? He hadn’t been able to uncover the reason before, but if that were the case, then having Lind in the Declan Prison was far more than what he deserved.

  What would happen if Lena were caught going to the hegen?

  “It wasn’t going to the hegen that brought you here. It was what you did on their behalf.”

  Finn watched Lind, and couldn’t tell if he still hid anything from them. Normally, he was good at reading others. Looking at Lind, he didn’t have a sense from him about whether or not he had done anything on behalf of the hegen, though when Meyer mentioned it, Finn saw a darkness behind his eyes.

  “I didn’t do anything,” he said.

  This time, his already soft voice was even fainter. Finn watched him, trying to gauge whether Lind told the truth or not.

  His posture had shifted. He sat upright more than he had before, and there was the way he glanced up briefly, as if to see if Meyer watched him.

  He wasn’t telling the truth.

  At least about that.

  Surprisingly—or not, considering what he’d seen from Meyer—the executioner knew he wasn’t telling him the truth.

  “What did you do for the hegen?” Meyer asked.

  “Like I said—”

  “Nothing. I understand you don’t want to be implicated in something that will cause you more trouble. Unfortunately, I’m going to have to keep asking these questions until I get a satisfactory answer. As it doesn’t appear that you want to help provide an answer that will placate me, we will have to continue this discussion.”

  Meyer brought the slender rod toward Lind.

  Finn wasn’t sure what Lind might do. The iron masters hadn’t bound him in any way, so he was just sitting there in the chair, free to get up and move. That he hadn’t seemed surprising to Finn.

  Perhaps it shouldn’t be.

  What would Lind do to the executioner?

  That he faced the executioner would be enough to intimidate anyone. Finn had been intimidated by the Lion, and that was without knowing that he’d served the executioner. He’d been his tormenter.

  That would be the same thing Lind felt. Only it might be even worse.

  “If you would care to share with me what the hegen assigned for you, I might be able to assist you in a reprieve. As you’ve refused, there isn’t much I can do.”

  “I… They wanted me to find something for them!” Lind’s voice went up, though Finn couldn’t see what Meyer did. The executioner stood in front of him, arms raised, the slender rod held up, as if he were stabbing it down toward his thigh—or his groin.

  “What did they ask you to find?”

  Lind hesitated, then started to whimper softly. “Nothing. Just a trinket. It shouldn’t even matter—”

  “It matters where you were.”

  “It don’t matter. I didn’t take anything!”

  “That’s not what the report says.”

  “The report is wrong! I didn’t take anything. You’ve got to believe me!”

  He whimpered a bit more, and then Meyer stepped back toward Finn, still holding the rod. Lind continued to whimper, an awful sound that filled the inside of the chapel.

  Meyer set the rod back down on the table.

  “Why did you stop?” Finn asked.

  “Because he told me what I needed to know.”

  “That’s it? You just wanted to know whether he took something?”

  “He was seen in the home of Ophel Grunson. According to the report Master Grunson gave, he was missing a gold necklace, two silver earrings, and a ceramic bowl.”

  Finn looked over to Lind. “He said he didn’t take anything, though.”

  “And I believe him.”

  “You do?”

  “Do you?”

  Finn watched as Lind continued to whimper. That wasn’t the sound of a hardened thief. He might look like Rock, but that was where the similarities ended. He had done what he had for a different reason.

  The hegen.

  “Why did he go to the hegen?”

  Meyer shook his head. “Does it matter? Most of what you believe about the hegen is rumor. Nothing more than that.”

  “They don’t have magic?”

  “They have that, at least of a sort, but they don’t steal souls or eat the remains they gather.”

  “I never said they did.”

  Meyer grunted. “You don’t have to. I know what most think about the hegen. If you want to know the truth of their magic, go and ask.”

  Finn looked over to Lind. “Then if he went to the hegen and they sent him after something, aren’t they responsible?”

  “Was your employer responsible?”

  Finn said nothing.

  “A man is responsible for his own actions. Th
e gods know this. Lind Rassum made a choice, and he will be punished for that choice.”

  Meyer headed out of the room, and Finn followed.

  Once in the hall, the iron masters stepped past and went into the room. Finn could still hear Lind whimpering.

  “He doesn’t deserve the torment.”

  Meyer cocked a brow at him. “Deserve?”

  “Until you’ve seen someone you care about suffer, or you have to make a choice between starving or stealing, or…” As soon as he said it, he wondered if maybe Meyer had that experience. “I’m sorry, Master Meyer. I misspoke.”

  “If there’s one lesson you must learn now, it’s that you must follow the law, and in doing so, you follow the gods. In all things.”

  What he’d seen in the room, though, made Finn question whether that was something that he’d be able to do.

  “How do you stomach what you have to do?” Finn asked as they reached the main entrance to Declan. They had come to question a few prisoners, though Meyer had only had Finn in on Lind's interrogation. Finn suspected there was a reason behind it. Perhaps a message to him, though he might be overthinking it.

  “You learn what must be done.”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  Meyer turned to him, arms crossed over his chest. “I would ask you the same thing. How did you stomach what you did? Violating another? Acting in opposition to the will of the gods. How could you stomach such crimes?”

  “The gods wouldn’t want me to suffer.”

  That was a better answer than the alternative he had—that the gods didn’t care.

  “The gods ask many things of us. Some must suffer so that we might become what we are meant to be. Others accept their fate and know the purpose the gods have in store for us. Still others wander their entire lives, never satisfied, never knowing who—and what—they were to have been.” Meyer studied him. “What will you be, Finn Jagger?”

  Finn didn’t have an answer. Even worse was the way Meyer watched him, leaving Finn wondering if perhaps that was a mistake.

  Out in the street, he expected Meyer to head toward the Brinder section to investigate, but he went a different way. Toward the wall. When they reached the wall, Meyer headed through the gate and out toward the section surrounding Verendal.