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

by D. K. Holmberg

  “We’ve already talked about that, Moira.”

  “We talked about your unwillingness to provide me with anything more than this.” She leaned forward, and this time she almost fell off of the cot, but she braced herself suddenly before reaching for the jar in Finn’s hands and holding it up to Meyer. “This only keeps me awake for a few hours, Henry. I’m looking for something that will buy me even more time than that.”

  Meyer chuckled. “Of course, Moira. I will let you and my apprentice work on that.”

  Finn blinked. Meyer was going to let him do this?

  Moira leaned forward. “Well?”

  “Why don’t you stop by tomorrow and I will come up with a compound for you.”

  She nodded. “Of course. I don’t get up too early these days. It might be in the middle of the day, or even later.”

  “Later might be best,” Finn said. “This should get you through until I come up with something.”

  “Very well.”

  She slipped down from the cot and hurried over to the door, disappearing with a glance over to Master Meyer.

  When she was gone, Finn turned to Meyer. “What’s wrong with her?”

  “That will be your next assignment.” Meyer looked up from his book, resting his hands on either side of it and holding it open. “I want you to look into anything about the illness she describes.”

  “Why do I get the feeling that there’s something here you’re not telling me.”

  Meyer chuckled. “You know all I know, Finn.”

  Finn pulled a chair up, sitting across from Meyer. He was going to let Finn be a part of helping heal others. That mattered to Finn. It meant that he was moving along his apprenticeship, and he might even progress far enough that he could actually earn extra coin. That was the part of serving as an executioner where the real money came in. Not that Finn was terribly concerned about wealth at this point. Meyer paid him reasonably well, but Meyer did much better than most in the city.

  “I started investigating the fire in the Jorend section. There are rumors that five people died in the fire,” Finn said.

  “I’ve heard those rumors as well.”

  “Is there anything to it?” Finn asked.

  Meyer frowned. “You want me to give you the answer?”

  “All I’m looking for is how many people died. I don’t need you to tell me who’s guilty.”

  “You don’t think Sweth is guilty?”

  Finn shrugged, glancing down at the desk for a moment before looking back up at Meyer. “I don’t know if Sweth is guilty or not, but I’m willing to keep looking.”

  He figured that was the answer Meyer wanted out of him. Meyer didn’t want Finn to take the obvious answer, and always wanted him to keep digging.

  “I can’t tell you with any certainty how many people were lost in the fire. The stories shift. From one report, I have heard there were a dozen people who died in the fire. That seems high to me,” Meyer said. “We’ve had other fires in the city, Finn. None have been that fatal.”

  “This one spread quite fast.”

  “It did. The question you need to be looking into is why.”

  “I’m looking into who might benefit from the fire.”

  Meyer regarded him. “An interesting approach.”

  “Interesting as in the wrong approach?”

  “Interesting as in interesting.”

  Finn waited for him to share anything more. “There was a man on the street loading up some of his belongings into a cart with his son, and they had heard of five people. He only knew of two of them with any certainty. The others were missing, but he didn’t know if they were gone or if they simply had gone missing.”

  “What do you intend to do?”

  “Do you really plan to let me run with this investigation?”

  “Within reason,” Meyer said. He folded the book closed, and slid it off to the side of his desk. “There is a bit of a time crunch here, Finn. The jurors are looking for answers. They want to know that we are doing everything in our power to find who is responsible for the fire. The magister and the jurors believe they already have the person responsible in prison.”

  “Let me guess. Bellut has been saying that,” Finn said, shaking his head.

  Meyer forced Finn to hold his gaze. “You cannot react like that.”

  “You know that he’s a part of this.”

  “We’ve already talked about this.”

  “We talked about looking into Bellut, and I’ve told you that I’m not going to, but—”

  “We are not going to go into this any longer.” Meyer took a deep breath, and then waved his hand. “Focus on the task at hand and not on your personal grudge.”

  Finn sat back, folding his hands in his lap and sitting quietly for a moment. He hadn’t thought it was a grudge, but he wouldn’t deny that he was motivated to see Bellut face justice for what he’d done. More than that, he thought he needed to face justice. He was acting against the king, regardless of what Meyer might think.

  “Focus on your investigation. There will be a limit to how much time we have to complete it. If we don’t find anything, then the jurors will decide based on the information they have on hand.”

  “Which means they’ll convict Sweth.”

  Meyer nodded.

  “Even if he isn’t guilty?”

  “Do you think him not guilty?”

  Finn needed to get back into Declan to visit with Sweth more than he had. He didn’t have the answer, but also didn’t think Sweth had started the fires, even if he weren’t innocent.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Then you need to find the answers. And you’d better do it quickly.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Declan Prison produced a darkened shadow that towered over the street in the early morning. A soft but gusting wind drifted out of the north, carrying a promise of cold and a coming snow, though it still felt early for it. Finn pulled the cloak around him, clutching it tightly as he made his way toward Declan. Once inside, he wouldn’t need the cloak. The prison was usually hot and humid.

  When he reached the prison, he pulled the keys from his pocket and searched through them to find the right key to the prison. Coming on his own was another first for him.

  Getting the door unlocked, Finn made certain to lock it again behind him and paused in the entrance. There was a strange level of freedom coming there, but it mixed with the fear and terror that he’d known when he’d been here before.

  He couldn’t linger too long. After his conversation with Meyer, he didn’t know how much time he had. He hurried through the prison, reaching the stairs and heading down. When he reached the lower level, two of the iron masters looked over. He recognized Shiner, who nodded to him.

  “You comin’ here yourself these days?” He looked behind Finn as if searching for Meyer. “Not used to you coming down to ol’ Declan yourself, Jags.”

  Finn shook his head. “Jags” was better than what he’d been called in the crew before. Seeing Oscar put that into perspective. “Meyer wanted me to check in on things.”

  “You here for the new one? Bastard came in filthy, but that’s typical for his kind.”

  Finn frowned. Meyer hadn’t said anything about a new prisoner. There wasn’t any reason that he couldn’t question him and report it to Meyer. It might help Finn gain a bit more experience, as well.

  “We’ll start with him,” Finn said.

  “Start?”

  “I need to talk to Sweth as well. There’s more I need to uncover with him.”

  Shiner chuckled. “You got to know he’s gonna swing.”

  “Is that right?”

  “That bastard keeps muttering to himself at night. Just talks to himself about the fire.” He shook his head. “Can’t think he deserves anything other than what’s coming.”

  If the iron masters had that view, it suggested to Finn that he had even less time than what Meyer had suggested. Maybe Sweth was guilty. Finn didn’t know. That was
the part of it that troubled him.

  “I didn’t get the new man’s name,” Finn said.

  “Vol Thern. Comes from Meldran. And you know how filthy that place is.”

  Meldran?

  With what Finn had seen before when chasing the figure into Meldran, he wondered if that was only a coincidence, or if there was something more to it than that. Maybe it was only chance, but that was where he’d seen Bellut.

  What if Vol could help him find what Bellut had been up to?

  “Can you bring him up to the chapel?”

  “No problem, Jags. We’ll bring him in there for you. You don’t want to help?”

  “Not if he’s filthy.” Finn grinned.

  “Leave the mess to the iron masters. Typical.” Shiner chuckled and nodded to the other iron master. “You want to give me a hand, Dem? Gotta get Jags’s man to the chapel so he can poke him a bit. Probably make Vol smell better.”

  Dem was a shorter, solid man, with a pockmarked face. When he grinned, he revealed a mouth missing a couple teeth. A bruiser, probably. Finn wasn’t the only one who’d been part of a crew around here.

  “Wouldn’t hurt to poke him a little. Bastard won’t talk to us.” Dem sounded like he had rocks in his mouth, making it difficult for Finn to understand him.

  Finn headed to the chapel.

  The chapel had a strange calm to it.

  He turned his attention to the painted glass. As the early-morning light filtered in, giving a bit of color to the room, Finn could almost believe Heleth looked down upon him, though Finn didn’t know whether she was there for him or for the prisoner.

  The counter with the various tools for questioning was as neatly organized as Meyer preferred. Finn made a point of keeping it well organized and clean, though usually he did it while Meyer was there with him and asking questions to the prisoners.

  The door to the chapel opened and Finn turned to look at Vol.

  He was thin and haggard, a thick beard covering his face. Deep hollows of eyes looked around the inside of the chapel, widening when they took in Finn. Even from the doorway, Finn could tell he stank. That was unusual. Typically, the iron masters cleaned the prisoners so that whatever filth they brought into the prison wouldn’t add to the stench of the place.

  He nodded to Shiner. The iron master dragged Vol to the chair in the center of the room, tossed him down, and quickly started strapping him into the chair. When he was done, he wiped his hands on his pants while grimacing.

  “You need anything from us?” Shiner asked.

  “Keep someone outside the door. I’ll let you know if I need anything.”

  A hint of relief swept over Shiner’s face as he stepped out of the chapel, closing the door and leaving him inside with Vol.

  Finn stood near the counter, moving implements around. There was a strategy to doing so. He didn’t even need to say anything as he worked, shuffling tools from one side of the counter to another, saying nothing.

  Vol shifted in the chair.

  Finn didn’t look. He could hear him sliding around, and there was a jerking on the straps. They would hold. One of Finn’s other assignments was testing the straps to ensure they were firmly in place.

  Finally, he headed away from the counter and stopped before Vol. “My name is Finn Jagger.”

  “Why should I care?”

  “Because I’m the one questioning you. I’m one of the king’s executioners.” He let the words linger, knowing the impact they had. When Finn had been there, he hadn’t known much about the Lion. Only his nickname. That and he’d seemed all too eager to torment Finn. He’d taken a measure of interest in the torture that Finn had never taken. “To begin with, why don’t you tell me what happened?”

  Vol looked up and spat.

  Finn was far enough away that he didn’t have to worry about its hitting him, but it still irritated him. “This will go easier for the two of us if you are willing to share.”

  “You got me in this shithole. That’s what happened.”

  “You don’t care for the hospitality?”

  Vol snorted. “This is your hospitality?” He jerked on his straps, trying to pull away, but they held tightly. “No. I don’t care for it.”

  “What happened?”

  Meldran wasn’t typically a place where he encountered people like this. Most of them were poor, but they kept themselves together better than it looked like Vol had.

  “Nothing happened.”

  “The Archers brought you here for a reason.”

  “The wrong one. They wouldn’t listen. Bastards seem to think everyone is guilty just because they find us on the edge of our section.”

  “You weren’t in Meldran when they picked you up?”

  Vol looked over. Darkness shone in his eyes as he leaned his head back. Would he spit again? Finn didn’t want to deal with that from him and backed away. Vol sneered at him.

  “Not in Meldran.”

  “Then where were you?”

  “Just gonna have to ask them, aren’t you?”

  “I don’t have any problems asking the Archers, but then when I do, you lose your opportunity to speak on your behalf.”

  “This is an opportunity?”

  “We’re talking, aren’t we?”

  He jerked on the leather straps again, pulling on them even harder than before. “Talking, but you’re doing most of it.”

  “I think we’re having a conversation here.” Finn had a feeling from Vol that he wanted to talk. If he could get him engaged, he wouldn’t need any of the other questioning implements. Finn had learned to use them all and didn’t have any objection to doing so in the right circumstances, but he also knew he needed to practice a level of restraint. There were times when he simply didn’t need to use all of the resources. A conversation could get him as much information as torment. “The more you share with me, the better this will go.”

  “For me?”

  Finn nodded. “I’m here as part of my job.”

  “Some job.”

  “I help ensure the king’s justice is carried out. The king wants to ensure only the guilty are condemned, so if you’re not guilty, you need to speak on your behalf.”

  “I’ve told you I didn’t do it.”

  Finn grabbed a chair and pulled it over, sitting a distance away from Vol so he couldn’t spit on him. “You’ve said you didn’t do it, but you haven’t told me anything else.” He forced a smile. “I’ve had many men tell me they were innocent when they were guilty.”

  “How do you know the difference?”

  “You learn to tell.”

  “You think you can tell a man is lying just by watching him? Some justice.”

  He turned away and spat, though this time it wasn’t at Finn.

  “I’m getting better at it. Master Meyer can tell with most men.”

  “And if he can’t?”

  “If he can’t, then we question.”

  Vol looked at him through slits of eyes. “You torment an innocent man and he’s going to tell you what you want to hear.”

  “We question a guilty man and he’s going to share what he did.”

  “You’re no different than them,” Vol said.

  “Why is that?”

  “Because you already think I’m guilty.”

  “I think you haven’t shared anything with me to make me think otherwise. At this point, you have given me no choice but to assume your guilt. If you’re not guilty, then tell me what I need to know to look into your innocence.”

  Vol glowered at him. “You’re not going to look into anything. You’re just trying to get me to say something that will convict me. I know better than that.”

  Finn weighed the options. He could begin questioning him, but doing so would disrupt any chance that he had to ask other questions without needing to resort to enhanced questioning. He had a feeling that if he played this right he might uncover something from Vol. The challenge was in figuring out just what he needed to get from him, though.


  “Let’s start with where you were when the Archers picked you up.”

  “Why does that matter?”

  “Because you want me to believe in your innocence.”

  “And?”

  “And you said you weren’t in the Meldran section.”

  “Most people think that section is nothing but thieves anyway. With all the activity moving through there these days, they wouldn’t be wrong. I’m not with that crew, no matter what most people say."

  “I’m not most people,” Finn said. “I recognize that it is a different kind of section. I’ve been there a few times.”

  He watched Finn. “Nobody there wants to hurt anyone,” he said. “No matter what they tell you.”

  “What they tell me?” Finn asked.

  “I’ve heard the stories.”

  “What stories are those?”

  “Stories about my section. They claim we’ve got nothing but bruisers and killers.”

  “I thought you had farmers and butchers,” Finn said.

  “And butchers? You mean those poor bastards that work in the slaughterhouse. Brutal work. Cutting up the hogs for someone who gets to keep all the coin.”

  “They keep the coin because they own the business,” Finn said.

  “They keep the coin because they filch it from those who do the work.”

  Finn smiled. “You still haven’t told me what section you were in.”

  “Because it don’t matter.”

  “Or it does and you just don’t want to share it with me.”

  “Anything I tell you is only going to make you believe in my guilt.”

  “Is that right?”

  “You just go ahead and ask the Archers. I’m not telling you nothing.”

  He lowered his head and jerked on the bindings around his wrists and ankles, but didn’t look up again.

  Finn debated. He had a suspicion about what Master Meyer would do in the same situation. He wouldn’t resort to strapping on the boots quite yet. Not without knowing anything about the man or why he was there. Meyer would try to find more information, which was what Finn needed to do.

  He got up, headed to the door, and pulled it open.