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

by D. K. Holmberg

  “Why not?”

  “Ask Esmerelda.” He grinned at Finn, then went skipping off along the road, dancing away from him.

  Finn had found Danior and his sister to be pleasant, but then again, he found most of the hegen to be pleasant. For all that they had terrified him when he was growing up, for all of the ways he and others had use the hegen as a threat, they were nothing if not kind and welcoming, not the fearsome people others often made them out to be.

  Junith tree.

  One more thing to think about and look into.

  He guided the horse along the twisting roads through the hegen section. When he reached its outskirts, he slowed, staring off toward the city. Typically, the Teller Gate was open, letting travelers in and out of the city—but for the first time in Finn’s memory, the Teller Gate was closed.

  Travelers who had come to Verendal were forced to stand outside the gate, waiting. The crowd was a little unruly, filled with anxious energy and agitation. He approached carefully.

  Most of them were road-weary. He could see it in their faces and their posture, recognizing that he felt something similar. There were far more people outside of the city than he had ever seen before. It was as if the walls of Verendal—and Teller Gate—were there for no other reason than to push back those who wanted the protection of the city.

  Finn guided his horse forward.

  As he neared the Raven Stone, he slowed, looking up to see that a new rope was hanging from the gallows. It was a marker of a coming festival. He hadn’t seen it while traveling with Esmerelda, though the Stone should have been visible.

  He’d only been gone two days, hadn’t he?

  Two days out of the city, but that didn’t include the time he had spent recovering—or now wandering in the forest with Esmerelda. There might be something taking place with old Alainsith buildings, but there definitely was something going on in the city.

  He studied the gallows for another moment, then headed toward the city gate.

  By the time he reached the King’s Road, he had an increased trepidation about whether he would even be allowed in. It was strange seeing the gate closed this way, and stranger still that he didn’t have any way of knowing how to get inside.

  He moved through the crowd, ignoring the annoyed looks in his direction. Most of them were suppressed when they saw the sword strapped to his back, though some of the travelers outside of the city still cast suspicious looks in his direction. Maybe they thought him some mercenary, though the kingdom didn’t have many of those.

  As he approached the gate, he found a pair of Archers standing guard, with a dozen, maybe more, standing along the wall, looking down with crossbows pointed toward the collected people gathered outside.

  Thankfully, Finn knew one of the Archers.

  “What’s going on here, Ned?”

  “Hunter.” The Archer glanced from Finn to the other Archer. He was a bit pudgy, and young enough that he barely had to shave. “What are you doing out of the city?”

  “I had to travel for work on behalf of the king.”

  “Out of the city?”

  Finn nodded. “My work takes me beyond Verendal from time to time.”

  “I didn’t realize that other places need the service of the hangman.”

  “Other places have crime,” Finn said.

  Ned chuckled. “And the Hunter has to hunt.”

  The other Archer laughed, a bit of darkness in his tone.

  Finn looked over to him, shooting him a hard-eyed gaze. He didn’t know this man, though he was a little older than Finn. Brown hair poked out of his silver helm, and his slender jaw had the traces of a beard he’d shaved. Finn favored the look that the iron masters preferred, keeping a clean-shaven face, a way of setting themselves apart from the prisoners they confined.

  “Why is the gate closed?”

  “King’s orders,” Ned said.

  Finn looked behind him. There had to be a hundred people, maybe more, and all of them were held back by these two Archers and the six along the wall?

  Of course, it wasn’t really the eight Archers who held them back. The Teller Gate was closed. The massive wooden doors blocked access to the city.

  “I need to get inside.”

  “You have to wait, like everyone else,” the other Archer said.

  “This is the Hunter,” Ned told him.

  “Don’t care who it is. We have our orders. You know what would happen if we let somebody in,” the other Archer retorted.

  “And this isn’t just somebody.” Ned glanced over to Finn. “Don’t mind Willian. He’s pretty new to the Archers.”

  He may have been new, but he looked older.

  Finn immediately found himself suspicious of Willian, though maybe that was a mistake. The Archers had been more difficult to bribe lately, thanks to Finn. He had tried to ensure they weren’t influenced by some of the local crews, adding that to his list of responsibilities. He had enough experience with crime lords buying their way to a measure of protection and had attempted to prevent others from gaining a foothold in the city by working with Meyer to have the Archers’ pay increased, along with watching them more closely.

  “I need to get into the city,” he said to Ned. All thoughts of the Alainsith faded from his mind.

  Ned shared a look with the other Archer. “This is the Hunter,” Ned repeated softly.

  The other Archer looked over to Finn. “And what do you hunt? You certainly smell like you’ve been out hunting.”

  “He hunts criminals,” Ned said.

  “Is he an Archer?”

  “No, he’s the hangman.” Ned shrugged. “Well, he works with the hangman. I suppose that makes him a hangman too?” Ned’s face wrinkled in a confused frown. “I don’t really know how it works.”

  Finn wasn’t in any mood to explain the relationship, and at this point, all he wanted was to get inside, leave the horse behind, and get to Master Meyer. Now he felt as if there was something more he needed to understand. If the gate had closed, then he wanted to know what had taken place to cause that. Something had changed while he was away.

  He could ask Ned or Willian, but he suspected they wouldn’t truly know.

  Meyer would know.

  The order would likely have been from the king himself—which meant Porman was still in the city.

  “You just have to open it wide enough to let me slip in,” Finn said.

  “The gate opens at eight bells,” Willian said.

  Finn glanced at the sky. The sun was a little past midday, which meant he would have quite a few hours remaining before eight bells. He could return to the hegen section if they were really going to restrict his access to the city, or he could push the issue here.

  How badly did he want to push the issue?

  He wanted to figure out what was going on. Besides, there was a sentencing soon.

  Finn nodded to the Raven Stone. “You need to let me in so I can prepare for the festival. Otherwise, you might end up at the end of the rope,” Finn said, looking over to Willian.

  Ned started to chuckle, but when Finn shot him a hard-eyed stare, he trailed off before nodding hurriedly. He looked to the Archers standing along the wall. “Open the gate. Need to let the hangman in.” Somebody from the side shouted something, and Ned shook his head. “Just open the damn gate.”

  Willian glowered at Finn. “If you end up getting us charged for this, I’m coming for you myself.”

  “If you end up getting us charged for this, Willian’s going to come for you,” Ned said.

  The gate started to open, stopping only a few feet wide.

  Finn nodded to Ned, then to Willian, before leading the horse inside. He’d just passed through the gate when the crowd behind him started to surge forward. Ned shouted, and the gate started to close far more slowly than it should have.

  Ned cried out as several people converged upon him, and Finn tried to turn, but the gate was already closing. The Archers along the wall shouted, then he heard th
e sound of a crossbow firing, then another.

  They came in rapid succession.

  People shouted, then a pounding upon the gate thundered.

  Finn stared at it.

  That was my fault.

  Had he only waited…

  He had to stop thinking like that.

  More than that, he had to get over to Master Meyer to understand what was going on, why the upheaval had persisted in the city, and how Meyer expected to carry out a sentencing in the current climate. If the people were so unsettled, how did they hope to carry out a sentencing without drawing another protest? If him just passing through the gate led to violence like that, how could they succeed in carrying out the king’s justice?

  Finn didn’t have the answers as he continued weaving through the streets, making his way toward the stables. By the time he dropped off the horse, paid the fee, and started back toward Meyer’s home, he found himself feeling the unease in the city, all too aware of just how unsettled everything was. It wasn’t just the people at the gate.

  The people in the city itself still had an edge to them.

  It was the Archers.

  And now his coming back to the city had caused the Archers to take more action. There would be repercussions because of it. And Finn would have to be ready for it.

  There were far more Archers patrolling the city than usual. Many of them weren’t even from the city. Many of them were palace Archers. Not only that, but there were several who were Realmsguard, which meant the king was much more concerned about what was taking place than what Finn had believed.

  As he headed to Master Meyer’s home, he shifted the sword, reached into his pocket, and pulled out the hegen card. He stared at it for a moment, looking at the surface, and wished he understood what it intended for him.

  But the card had not changed. The ink remained unreadable.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Finn’s mind did not stop churning during his walk back to Master Meyer’s home.

  The city was quiet, which he thought was a positive sign, given the way he had left it, but he did worry about additional protests during the time he had been gone Not only that, but there was a part of him that wanted nothing more than to send Archers out of the city to investigate whether there were others involved in his attack. Finn doubted there would be much benefit to that, but someone attacking and trying to claim his sword suggested that the danger was far more real than he had known before.

  Hopefully Meyer would understand.

  Or maybe he wouldn’t.

  That was the other concern Finn had.

  Meyer didn’t always agree with Finn’s investigations, and before Finn’s departure, Meyer had made it quite clear that he felt Finn had been looking too deeply into details that were not necessarily crucial to their current investigation.

  He limped forward, and by the time he reached Master Meyer’s home, he was moving even more slowly. His body still ached, and he waited at the gate for a moment, looking at the home. It was early in the day. He had taken longer outside the city than he suspected Master Meyer would have preferred, which meant the master executioner would’ve been responsible for more tasks during Finn’s absence. He doubted that Meyer would comment on that, though Finn felt the delay.

  Even though he had taken more time, he still questioned if he had taken enough time. One thought stayed with him: He needed to question the prisoners.

  He pushed into the gate, walking along the path, and stepped inside of the home. He put the sword back into the closet, reminding himself that he would need to clean and polish it later, before dropping his pack in his room. Everything was as he had left it.

  There were times when he felt as if he were still the apprentice who Master Meyer had saved from execution. Often he was given freedom to operate as he felt necessary, but there were times when he was not. And there were times when the past seemed to come back and strike him, giving Finn a reminder of what he had done and been before.

  He heard voices in the kitchen and Finn limped toward it.

  Lena was there, but she wasn’t alone. He had thought it was Master Meyer with her, but it was somebody whom Finn had not seen in quite some time.

  He bowed his head politely to his sister and Helda. She was a lovely woman, though had been less than sympathetic to the kind of work Finn had to do, resulting in the two of them never having the opportunity to progress to something more than friends. That seemed to be his ongoing challenge.

  “Finn. Henry thought you would return soon, but he wasn’t sure when,” Lena said.

  Finn nodded and limped forward before taking a seat.

  “You were out of the city?” Helda asked.

  “I was.”

  He never knew how much to reveal to anyone about what he was tasked with doing when he left the city. The investigation was easy enough to explain, but the rest of it was more difficult, and less pleasant, to describe. This last investigation even more so than others. There was something about what had happened in the village of Weverth that had bothered him.

  “How has the city been?” Finn asked.

  Lena glanced over to Helda for a moment before turning her attention back to Finn. “Relatively quiet. Henry has been looking into some of the protests while you were gone, and he said there was something about a man who died…”

  Finn had almost forgotten about Reginald, but it was one more thing he needed to look into now that he was back. Reginald had killed himself, or seemingly so, though there was something about his death that troubled Finn. He had Reginald’s journal, which he would need to go through and look into more to try to find some answers.

  “There was a man who died before I left,” Finn said, “but I think the protests have taken priority. Or they had up until I left.”

  “I think the Archers have been too hard on the protesters,” Helda said. When Lena looked over to her, Helda shrugged. “Well, I do. These are people who have nothing, Lena. I know it’s hard for you to remember what it was like, but all they are looking for is a measure of respect from the king.”

  Lena frowned at her friend. “It’s not hard for me to remember what it was like,” she said. “In fact, it’s easy. I know that if Meyer were to send me away, I wouldn’t have anything. No way of taking care of myself, no way of providing for myself, and no way to find a place to stay safe.”

  “You don’t have to worry about that though, do you?”

  Lena looked over to Finn for a long moment, holding his gaze. “I hope not. Henry has been kind, and he has permitted me to remain. I hope he does not change his mind.”

  Finn thought Lena was well beyond worrying about that, though maybe she wasn’t.

  She did worry about whatever she might offer Henry. He wasn’t looking for a relationship, Finn knew. The very few times Finn had ever spoken to Meyer about his lost family, the master executioner had made it quite clear that those wounds had not fully healed.

  But Lena was something like a daughter to him.

  Meyer would never banish her. In fact, he thought Lena had less of an issue concerning that than Finn did; he could disappoint Meyer far more easily than Lena could.

  “You don’t have to worry about that,” Finn said. “He’s not sending you anywhere. Besides, I think he likes having somebody who has a way with apothecary medicine like you do.”

  Lena blushed briefly and turned away from Helda’s stare.

  He needed to ask about the prisoners.

  “Has your other project been successful?” Finn asked.

  Lena frowned at him. “Not completely.”

  “You have another project?” Helda asked.

  Lena glanced over to her. “Henry had me gather some items of importance and try to keep them coordinated.”

  Helda frowned.

  Lena chuckled. “In his garden,” she said quickly. Finn smiled at how quickly she found the lie. “He has some plants that are important to him that he has been trying to keep alive.”

  “And he ask
ed you for that help?”

  Finn leaned forward. “Master Meyer likes to think he has a green thumb, but he doesn’t have the same skill as Lena. She’s not just a healer.” He winked at his sister and got to his feet. “I need to go looking for Meyer.”

  “I don’t think he’s gone terribly far. He made mention of visiting the site of the protest. He’s been trying to piece things together. I think he does that because he believes it’s what you would do.”

  “Say, would you look into something for me?” Finn asked. His sister would be able to go places he couldn’t—and she’d probably draw very different attention than he would.

  “What?”

  He glanced to Helda. How much should he say in front of her? “I’m curious about the posters that have started appearing around the city.”

  “The Rose,” Helda said. Finn turned to her and she shrugged. “I’ve seen them too.”

  “Do you know anything about them?” he asked.

  “Nothing more than most. They want people from the outer sections treated better. They want the Archers to be…” Her eyes widened slightly as she looked at Finn. “Anyway, they want more.”

  Finn looked to Lena. “If you can find anything else?”

  “I’ll let you know,” she said softly, seeming to avoid Helda’s gaze.

  Finn smiled. “Thanks. I can check on you later, Lena.”

  She nodded slowly.

  He grabbed his cloak and limped out of the home.

  His injury made everything a little uncoordinated. Though he ached, he still managed to move with a steady step, limping slightly as he weaved through the city. His side didn’t hurt the way it should, but that had to be because of the hegen healing. He’d experienced it enough times now that it didn’t impress him quite as much as it once had.

  He reached the far side of the bridge when he saw Meyer.

  “You’re back,” Meyer said.

  Finn nodded and proceeded to tell Meyer everything that had happened to him while he was gone, including the attack and his concern about witchcraft. “I’d like to go back and bring men—”

  “That’s not what we need to be concerned with right now. We’re still working through the situation with the protesters—something I believe you wanted to do.”