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

by D. K. Holmberg

  He looked up to see Oscar watching him.

  “It’s the timing of the attacks. Meyer mentioned how there have been high-level targets.” He lowered his voice. “Now with the king’s visit to the city—”

  “He thinks it’s related.”

  Finn nodded. “He doesn’t say, but what if it is? The king is here to negotiate with the Alainsith. What if someone wants to disrupt the peace?”

  Oscar smirked at Finn. “That’s not the kind of thing a man on a crew thinks much about, Finn. And I don’t think it’s something an executioner gives much thought to, either.”

  Finn shook his head. “That’s what Meyer says, but it bothers me thinking about the jobs we pulled. What happened. The bad luck. The strange things we were going after.”

  “That’s all it was. Bad luck. Like the poor woman you saw murdered.”

  Finn wrinkled his nose and took another drink of ale. “Gods, Oscar. There was so much blood. I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

  “Because you’re a thief and not a killer,” Oscar said.

  “For now,” he said softly.

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Finn shrugged and looked over. “If I’m to continue serving Meyer, I’m going to eventually become—”

  “You’re not going to become anything. If you serve, then you serve. It doesn’t make you a killer.”

  Finn could only shake his head. It was the part he struggled with the most. “Anyway, that wasn’t really the point I was trying to make when I started telling you all of this.” It certainly hadn’t been to get into his concern about the attacks Meyer had mentioned, or about the jobs the crew had been taking, and whether they were related. Finn would have to find that on his own, he suspected.

  “What point were you trying to make?”

  “Only that Meyer didn’t simply take the facts as they were presented to him. He asked his own questions.”

  “And I’m supposed to be impressed that the hangman took the time to ask questions?”

  “I don’t know if you’re supposed to be impressed or not, but he did ask more questions than I expected.”

  “What does it matter if the hangman or the Archers ask questions?”

  Finn didn’t know how to explain it to Oscar. He wasn’t sure how to explain it to himself. It wasn’t so much that questions were asked as it was more about how Meyer had made a point of showing him that he wanted to ensure he didn’t carry out a sentencing on someone who wasn’t guilty.

  “I think he knows more about what happened with our job,” Finn said, his voice quiet.

  “Why would you say that?”

  Finn just shook his head. “I just think that he does.”

  It would explain why Meyer made a point of bringing him to the home. It was almost as if Meyer had wanted Finn to know that he wasn’t going to simply assume someone’s guilt.

  “If he knows something, then—”

  “If who knows something?” The King took a seat next to them, glancing over to Finn for a moment. His deep brown eyes softened slightly, though Finn noticed the same intensity behind them that there always was. He was dressed in his darks as well.

  They had been in the middle of a job. Finn had seen the King several times throughout the city. He still had no idea who the Client could be, though having seen him with a high-ranking Archer, along with one of the jurors, or even the general store owner, it could have been anyone.

  Finn glanced from Oscar to the King.

  “Finn was just telling me about his experience with his new master today. It seems there was a murder near the edge of town.”

  “Gods. A murder?” The King lifted his ale, taking a long drink before setting it down. “He’s brought you into that sort of thing already?”

  “He brought me with him to look into the murder,” Finn said.

  The King breathed out heavily. “Maybe that’s good. If everything goes as planned, we might need your help with something soon.”

  Finn looked over to Oscar, but he didn’t meet his gaze. What strange item would the crew be sent after this time? “With what?”

  “Can’t talk about it just yet, Shuffles. When the time comes, we’ll make certain you know what you need to do.”

  The King and Oscar shared a look across the table, and Finn couldn’t help but wonder what else he missed. There was something more taking place there.

  Oscar wouldn’t tell him.

  There were aspects to what they had gone through, aspects to what Finn had gone through, that had troubled him from the beginning.

  Who was this Client to continue to hire the King?

  “What else have you been doing, Shuffles?”

  “Same as I told you before. He’s still bringing me along slowly. I’m not entirely sure what he’s going to have me doing each day, but for the most part, he still sends me on supply runs.”

  “I see that he’s dressed you better than you were before.”

  Finn looked down at his clothes. He had been wearing them for the better part of the last few days and had forgotten about how they might stand out in a place like the Wenderwolf. They were nicer than the darks. A better cut, even though they weren’t completely custom-fit for him yet.

  “He didn’t want me to wear the Sinner’s Cloth.”

  “I suppose not. Probably better he dress you in this,” the King said, reaching across to him and running his fingers along the shirt. “Look at Shuffles, Hand. He’s really stepped up in the world.”

  Oscar turned his attention to his drink.

  Finn took a deep breath. “Look. King. I’m not so sure I can help the crew just yet.”

  The King set his mug down, and he turned his attention on Finn. “What was that?”

  Finn glanced at Oscar, but he wasn’t going to get any help from him. “I don’t know that I’m going to be able to help you the way you want. Not for a while. I’m still getting settled with this new apprenticeship, and I—”

  “You sound like you want to keep it.”

  Finn shook his head. “That’s not it. It’s more that—”

  “Listen, Shuffles. You don’t want to upset me, do you?”

  Finn held the King’s gaze. This was his crew leader. Someone Finn had wanted nothing more than to impress. “I don’t want to upset you, but you should know I can’t promise anything when it comes to Meyer. He hasn’t brought me all the way in yet. I don’t know when he will. Or if he will.”

  The King leaned back, a strange smile twisting his lips. “I don’t think he has much choice, Shuffles.” He glanced at Oscar. “You didn’t tell him?”

  “I didn’t have time.”

  “Didn’t have time for what?”

  “Wolf started looking into this Executioner’s Right. He’s the only one who’d ever heard anything about it, but there was something that troubled him. All of us, really.” He leaned forward toward Finn. “We wanted to make sure it was legit, you see. Had to know our boy was safe.”

  He was a part of the crew. This was the King’s way of reminding Finn of that.

  “What did you discover?” Finn asked.

  The King twisted in his seat and whistled.

  Wolf had been sitting in the back of the tavern. That was strange. Stranger was that unlike the King and Oscar, he wasn’t dressed in his darks.

  Had he not been a part of whatever job they’d pulled? And where was Rock?

  Wolf headed toward them and took a seat next to him.

  “Tell Shuffles what you’ve discovered about his new predicament.”

  Wolf tipped his head at Finn in a slight nod. “You’re the first in a long time.”

  “I know,” he said. “When he claimed the right. That’s when I learned.”

  The King took a drink from his ale, leaning back in his chair. “Not when you went to the palace?”

  “We didn’t have much time in the palace. We weren’t there long.”

  “You didn’t tell us what you saw when you went before the k
ing,” Wolf said.

  “I guess I didn’t think it mattered.”

  The King shrugged. “It probably doesn’t, but do you know how many people from these sections”—he swept his hands around him as if he were indicating all the sections near them—“who’ve been in the palace?” He arched a brow. “None. Not even the Archers can make that claim. At least, none of the city Archers. Palace Archers only.”

  “What did you see?” Wolf asked.

  “I saw—”

  The tavern door slammed open, and Nels Frenuhs—a cutpurse who worked on the crew known as Scruff—came rushing in. When he saw the King and Wolf sitting at the table, he raced toward them.

  “Red got pinched! He was scoping out the next job, and the damn Archers pulled him away.”

  Red?

  Finn knew Red but didn’t know he was working with the crew.

  Maybe he had since Finn was pinched.

  “What?” King asked, still holding his gaze on Finn. “He shouldn’t have drawn any attention while he was—” Wolf rested a hand on the King’s arm and nodded toward Finn. “Sorry, Shuffles. The crew has to talk,” the King said.

  He was a part of the crew.

  But not anymore.

  Finn nodded. “I understand.”

  He finished his ale and got to his feet, looking around the tavern.

  He found Oscar watching him. Finn flashed a smile before leaving the tavern. Out in the street, he worked his way over to the far side of the street, where he could hide in the shadows. He didn’t hide nearly as well as he had when wearing the darks. Still, he should be able to hide well enough to watch.

  The street was empty. The Wenderwolf was active, though. The sound from inside the tavern continued to drift beyond the walls, out into the street, giving off a festive feel.

  Finn wished he felt that festiveness.

  Instead, all he felt was out of place.

  Could the Wenderwolf have become so unfamiliar that quickly?

  The door opened. Finn sank into the shadows as much as he could, trying to hide.

  The King and Wolf headed out of the tavern with Scruff leading them. He was short and thin. A few years younger than Finn, he’d wanted to join the crew, but since Oscar had vouched for Finn, he’d been given preference. It seemed Scruff got promoted with Finn’s departure.

  Where was Oscar?

  Wolf hadn’t been wearing his darks. Both Scruff and the King were.

  It was easier to follow Wolf, as a result. Finn moved along the street, trying to stay in the shadows. The soft shirt and pants might be brown, but they didn’t blend into the shadows along the street nearly as well as the darks did.

  If only he still had his. They’d been left behind in Declan. The few times Finn had considered asking about them, he’d changed his mind. It would only raise the kind of questions he didn’t need.

  Following them along the street, Finn had an idea.

  He could take the alley.

  He generally knew the street's direction, even as it wound in a twisting sort of manner through here. Using the alleys, Finn could cut through and shave off time. By popping out of the alley, he might be able to see them pass and could figure out where they were headed.

  Don’t do this.

  Reason suggested it was a mistake. He could go back to Meyer, rest. Get ready for more work in the morning. Gods, he probably should be studying the book Meyer had given him. It had already proven useful. Knowing the anatomy and understanding injury had been how Meyer had treated Gabe earlier in the day.

  Curiosity won out.

  Finn slipped along the alley.

  From there, it was easy enough for him to sneak along. Few people used the alleys, and the only thing he had to worry about was stepping in piles of shit. Usually, the smell would alert him of that, so he figured he’d be safe.

  Finn raced through the alley until it ended.

  Then he stopped near the street. Darkened shapes moved in the distance. Two figures who were hard to see, and Wolf who moved with his dangerous stride, though much more visible.

  Finn stayed in the darkness, away from the street. He waited until they passed, and only when they were gone did he creep forward.

  He watched, noting how they curled around and tried to anticipate which way the street would go. From this part of the city, Finn didn’t know where they might be headed. Surprisingly, they seemed to be generally heading toward the center of the city. Toward the merchant section.

  Were they to be caught out late at night in the outer sections, there weren’t going to be many repercussions. If they got caught in the central portion of the city, questions would be asked. Finn wouldn’t be surprised if the Archers detained them and questioned them about where they were heading.

  He darted across the street, reaching another alley, and slipped along it.

  As he ran along the alley, he jumped over a pile of something unpleasant, not pausing long enough to consider what it was, his nose telling him it was foul. When the alley reached the next street, he paused again.

  He started to question whether he had made a mistake and whether he had chosen the wrong direction. There would’ve been an alternative path he could’ve taken, and by going along that path, he might have found the three of the crew slipping a different way.

  Then he saw the figures making their way along the street.

  They were near the bridge leading toward the central sections of the city.

  Near enough that Finn was surprised at how willing the King was to expose himself like this. The King was generally cautious. Cautious enough that he wouldn’t usually dart into danger that way.

  What had Red been up to?

  Finn waited in the shadows, and when they came close, he tried to lean forward to listen to their conversation. He should have been doing that all along, but even in the short time that he had been working with Master Meyer, he had gotten out of practice.

  “They pinched him up by the bridge,” Scruff was saying. “We got to get out of here before curfew hits—”

  “Quiet,” Wolf growled. “The curfew don’t mean shit to us. The King’s got that covered.”

  “The King wanted to know.” Scruff sounded petulant, and Finn could imagine the King getting angry with him, especially in the middle of the night and out on the street like this, having had a job go awry.

  “Quiet,” the King said. “And Wolf is right. Just have to pay the Archers a little extra with the curfew these days. That’s all.”

  “I saw somethin’, King. Don’t know what it was. Maybe another crew,” Scruff said.

  “No other crew going against us,” the King said.

  “They did when Rock—”

  Scruff cut off when the King shot him a look. Finn could easily imagine the irritation in his eyes. He’d been the target of the same look more than once.

  They passed him.

  Wolf glanced in his direction, his gaze lingering for a moment, almost as if he realized Finn was there. Finn backed up against the alley wall, staying as close as he could but still trying to listen.

  They moved past, then he breathed out.

  He wasn’t going to be able to chase them down the street to the bridge.

  Any farther and he would be risking exposing his presence.

  He stepped forward and felt something grab him.

  Finn spun, bringing his arms up, preparing to strike and run when he realized that Oscar stood near him.

  “You damn fool.” Oscar nodded to the retreating form of the figures in the distance. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “I was curious.”

  “Curious enough to get yourself beat?”

  “I’m not going to get myself beat,” Finn said.

  “You are if you go chasing off like that. The King isn’t playing games with these jobs, Finn. They’re dangerous. You heard you weren’t the only one who’s gotten pinched on them. If Red got picked up, then…”

  “What have they been doing? Are you go
ing against another crew?”

  That sort of thing happened, though the King had enough standing in the city that Finn wouldn’t have expected it with his crew.

  Oscar shook his head. “No.” When Finn opened his mouth to argue, Oscar raised a hand. “You’re not going to push this issue. It’s too dangerous, Finn. I don’t know that you should be coming by the tavern, either.”

  “It’s my crew, too.”

  “Not anymore,” Oscar said.

  “Thanks,” Finn said.

  “You know what I mean,” Oscar said.

  “I know exactly what you mean. Me getting caught to protect you wasn’t worth anything.” Oscar glared at him. “I’m just curious what the crew has been doing.”

  Oscar looked along the street. There was no further movement. Finally, he sighed softly. “The Client has had a few other jobs since you were picked up. Most of them have been difficult.”

  “Difficult like the one where we broke into the viscount’s home?”

  High-level targets.

  What if the Client was the one coordinating the attacks in the city?

  Finn should let Meyer know…

  “Like that. More difficult than I like. And the King don’t always tell me what we’re after.”

  “But you’re the Hand.”

  “And he’s got Wolf. And Rock. Now Scruff. The whole crew is involved.”

  Finn detected Oscar’s irritation. “Then don’t take them.”

  “With what we’re getting paid, that’s not much of an option. But you have something else you can be a part of. It’s an opportunity for more. Don’t make a mistake in thinking that it’s not.”

  “I understand exactly what it is,” Finn said.

  “Do you?” Oscar leaned forward, grabbing his shirt. “Look at you. You’re dressed better than I will ever be. And you look comfortable in it.”

  “It is comfortable. The fabric is so soft—”

  Oscar grunted. “That’s my point. You don’t belong here with us. Not anymore. Maybe you never did. I know you were trying to do what your father did, to take care of your sister and your mother, but do it another way. Do it honorably.”