The Master Executioner (The Executioner's Song Book 5), page 8
Finn couldn’t hear their conversation, though it was tense. Meyer nodded, saying nothing, but Finn had a feeling that something significant had transpired.
When he finished with the blade, he made his way back around the gallows and looked over to Meyer. A dark scowl crossed his face. It was an expression Finn knew well. Irritation.
“Ensure the Raven Stone is not disturbed,” Meyer said.
Finn just nodded, handing the sword over to Meyer, who took it without saying anything else, climbed down the Raven Stone, and headed back toward the city. He trailed after the jurors, and strangely, in Finn’s mind, it looked as if Meyer were the condemned.
CHAPTER SIX
Much of the crowd had departed, leaving Finn to finish up with his work. He had taken the rope down from the gallows, untying the noose that Meyer had made—a perfectly formed knot that would have offered a quick and clean death, and probably would have been less dramatic than what the condemned had been offered. He had left the body in place. He would remain there at least for the better part of a day, though night had already started to fall, and Finn didn’t know when the hegen would come out and claim their reward.
He looked out over the rolling hillside outside of the city. It was empty now, a little trash lying on the ground to remind him of the festival that had been here only hours before. It didn’t take long for crowds to disperse back into the city following the festival. A few people remained, though Finn didn’t know if they were intoxicated or were merely curious as to what more he might do.
“I understand the execution was irregular.”
Finn looked down and wasn’t terribly surprised to see Esmerelda looking up at him. She was dressed in a white gown, her black hair pulled back, and her full lips a bright and vibrant red.
“There were many things about the execution that were irregular,” Finn said.
He’d been gone for a few weeks and felt like he’d missed too much. A case that felt rushed. A change in sentencing. And an execution that went awry. Had he been here…
Finn had to stop thinking like that. This was Master Meyer, after all.
“Where is Master Meyer?”
“He’s returned to the city.”
That wasn’t uncommon following an execution, though after this one, and given how things had gone, Finn felt there was something odd about it.
Esmerelda took a step of the Stone, looking over to the condemned’s body. “A most unusual sentencing,” she murmured, glancing to the loop of rope that Finn had hanging around his shoulder.
“The jurors modified it,” Finn said. “I think Meyer anticipated what would happen.”
Esmerelda sniffed. “Of course he would have.”
She climbed another step. The hegen didn’t fear death the way so many within the city did, and Esmerelda in particular didn’t fear the Stone. She crouched down next to the body and traced a finger through the blood.
“I’m not sure you should do this now.”
She looked up at him before standing. The blood staining her finger looked like paint on the end of a brush, and he was suddenly reminded of Jonah. “Do not fear. I would not collect while you were here, Finn.”
Usually they came in the dark of night, slipping in as if thieves claiming a prize they shouldn’t have. Finn knew better. Much of what the hegen did was sanctioned, though not openly.
“What is it then?”
She looked over to him. “I was just thinking about the conversation we had when you returned to the city.”
“Which part? About what happened here while I was gone? You didn’t think that I needed to be concerned.”
“I said that others were responsible, not that you need not be concerned.”
Finn swept his gaze around the Stone. There wasn’t much more for him to do. The deceased would remain where he was, both as a way of deterring additional crime and to give the hegen time to claim their prize. Ravens circled overhead, though they made no attempt at landing while Finn had been working, as if they knew they had to give him the time he needed to finish with this aspect of the sentencing before they could begin their feast.
“Do you know anything about the sentencing?” he asked, finally turning back to her.
“You would ask me rather than Master Meyer?”
Finn grunted, looking off to the city. “I don’t think Meyer is going to share that much with me.”
“I know about as much as you. The sentencing of this man was unusual from the beginning.” She looked down at the deceased. There was a look on her face that suggested she knew more than what she was letting on, though if she did, then it might simply be magical knowledge, something that he didn’t expect Esmerelda to share with him. “The jurors were undecided. They wanted an honorable death, though they were overridden by Geldan.”
That was unusual enough, and Esmerelda sharing it with him suggested that she knew just how uncommon that happened to be. Occasionally, it went the other way. There were rare circumstances when the jurors wanted a specific sentencing and Geldan did not, and it had been Finn’s experience that the jurors usually guided sentencing.
“I didn’t have much of an opportunity to speak with Meyer about his crime,” he said.
“Seeing as how he was sentenced, I imagine you have an idea of it.”
Finn shrugged, nodding. “I have an idea, but that isn’t the same as knowing what he did. The fact that the jurors were split suggest that something more was going on here.” But it was more than that, and he suspected Esmerelda was aware. That the man had been offered an honorable death suggested he was someone of social standing within the city. Most criminals, the kind of people Finn had associated with for the majority of his life before meeting up with Meyer, would never have been given the opportunity to have an honorable death. Most would have been hanged. That there would have been a discrepancy suggested that this man had enough social standing to raise the question.
“He was a merchant,” she finally said. “Not from Verendal either.”
Finn nodded. “Do you know what he sold?”
“No, though I suspect Meyer could tell you.”
“I’m sure he could,” Finn said. “I’m asking you.”
Esmerelda looked down at the body. “I will see what I can find.”
“Thank you.”
“Something troubles you.”
Finn just shook his head. “It’s probably nothing.”
“Saying that suggests it is very much something,” she said.
He glanced over to the city in the distance. “When I returned, I just felt something was off about Meyer. Maybe it’s my imagination or that I had been gone for a few weeks, but he seems weaker. Frailer.”
Esmerelda clasped her hands together. Finn realized that the blood that had been on her finger was no longer present. How had she wiped it off? He didn’t see any red stains on her dress, so he didn’t know how she would have managed such a thing. “Absence tends to make change more obvious. Perhaps your time away has only revealed to you the truth of the change taking place within Master Meyer.”
“What change is that?”
“All men change. That is one thing none can avoid.”
Finn closed his eyes, thinking about what he had seen with his sister, then with the limp, and finally with the sentencing itself. It wasn’t so much that Meyer was slipping in his responsibilities. It might simply have been that he had gotten to the point where he could no longer carry them out the way he once had.
Now that he thought about it in those terms, Finn realized he had been helping Meyer far more than he had realized. Before he had departed on the journey outside of the city, he had been the one primarily carrying out the executions. Meyer had been the one who had been running errands and assisting Finn. It had been a role reversal. It had happened gradually, slowly enough that Finn had not even paid much mind to it.
Maybe that was what troubled him. Now that he had returned to the city, and Meyer wanted him to play out the role of apprentice, he chafed at it because he no longer felt as if he was an apprentice.
“I can see you have come to your own conclusion,” Esmerelda said.
Finn breathed out slowly. “It’s not a matter of coming to my own conclusion. It’s just…”
Esmerelda nodded. “Change is not something to fear. Neither is the passage of time. One cannot fight either.”
“Will you share with me what you uncover?”
She hesitated, looking down to the fallen man. “Will your arrangement with the people remain the same?”
Finn frowned. He and Meyer permitted the hegen to claim whatever prizes they thought necessary. “I don’t see why that would change.”
Esmerelda flashed a hint of a smile. “Very well.”
She started down the stairs of the Raven Stone and then made her way off toward the hegen section. From where he stood, Finn could hear the music coming out of the hegen section, the boisterous sound of singing and instruments and the occasional shout. All of it a vibrant and joyous sound. It was strange thinking that there would be such celebration so close to the Stone, though he had never known it to be anything different.
After Esmerelda departed, Finn looked around again and finally made his way down the Stone and headed toward the city. The sun was starting to set, and the air grew cooler, though not cold. He made his way into the city, passing through the Teller Gate, nodding politely to the Archers standing guard. He recognized them, though he didn’t know their names. There had been a time when Finn had wanted to socialize with the Archers, the iron masters, and even perhaps with the warden of the prisons he visited, but he had learned his mistake. He wasn’t their friend. Serving as an executioner, Finn carried a supervisory role. It was because of that role that he could no longer interact with them in the way he once had.
He could return to Meyer’s home, but he didn’t feel as if he needed to. Lena would be there, and she would offer Meyer the assistance he needed. Finn benefited from working with Master Meyer, learning the nature of medicines and healing, and had grown in his skill over the time that he’d been working with him, but not nearly as much as Lena. He didn’t begrudge her that opportunity, though as he progressed, eventually Finn would need to set up his own office much the way Meyer had. It was one way for him to supplement his income.
That would be when Meyer retired.
He found himself heading toward one of the darkened prisons. There was something reassuring in the work, something about the repetitive nature of it, the way it would help put his mind at ease. He didn’t have to wonder what his place might be when he carried out aspects of his responsibility.
Finn stopped in front of Declan. Given that it was a festival day, he doubted Meyer would have questioned any of the prisoners. He didn’t know whether there were any that he even needed to question, though having been away from the city, Finn suspected there were some here who he could. He pulled his key ring out of his pocket, headed up to the door, and unlocked it before stepping inside.
The inside of the prison was dark, had a foul odor of sweat and rot mixing together that seemed to linger at all times, and was strangely warm. Lanterns gave off a faint light, barely enough for him to see much of anything, though Finn paused long enough for his eyes to adjust before heading along the hallway.
He decided to go to the warden’s office. Perhaps he might learn more about the previous prisoner, though investigating someone who had already been executed didn’t really make sense for him. In a way, it challenged Meyer, something that Finn knew better than to do. Only he didn’t feel as if he were challenging Meyer. He was only going so that he could find understanding. Meyer would sympathize with that.
When he reached the warden’s office, he knocked. There was no guarantee the warden would be here. He had set hours, though the sentencing of one of his prisoners would have lengthened his day as well.
“Enter,” a muffled voice from the other side of the door said.
Finn pushed open the door.
Matthew Jakes was an older warden with graying hair, a soft jawline, and hard black eyes. The warden looked up from his desk. He had a stack of papers in front of him. “Yes?”
Finn cleared his throat, and the warden looked up.
“The Hunter,” he said. “I heard you were away.”
Finn nodded, taking a seat in front of the desk. “I was. Now I’m back. It is there anything that I need to be doing?”
The warden grunted and shuffled through his papers before grabbing several and handing them across the desk. Matthew was far more organized than his predecessor had been, and he documented everything. That seemed a much better strategy in Finn’s mind. At least that way, others couldn’t claim Matthew hadn’t shared something with them.
“I’ve been trying to get the hangman out here for the better part of a week, but he has been preoccupied,” the warden said. “Only when we had the sentencing did he come and spend any time, and even that wasn’t much.”
Finn frowned. “Is that right?”
The warden looked up, meeting his gaze. “I wouldn’t have said it if it wasn’t.”
“I think it’s been harder on him with me away,” Finn said.
The warden grunted, looking down to his stack of papers. “Maybe,” he said.
“Maybe?”
“I need you to talk to those prisoners. The magister hasn’t passed judgment on any of them, so they’re just sitting here. Awaiting sentencing. You know how I feel about that.”
Finn looked down at the pages. The warden’s handwriting was neat, tidy, and he had documented the prisoner names on separate pages with descriptions of their accusations. He had other evidence against them listed, which made it much easier for Finn to follow and to figure out what line of inquiry he needed to pursue.
“Anything I need to be aware of?”
“Nothing more than the usual. We’ve got one man who killed his business partner. Thought he would get away with it by burning the body. Unfortunately, he started a fire that spread through nearly a third of the section before it was put out.” The warden shook his head, his irritation with somebody like that clear. “One of the others was caught stealing. It was his fifth offense.”
That usually wasn’t the kind of thing Finn got involved in, though depending upon the sentencing the thief had previously received, it might lead to more. Even with something like that, it wasn’t typical for him to get involved.
“What about the third?”
“The third is here because he fought with two Archers. Bloodied one and very nearly broke another’s leg. Claiming that he saw a ghost, so he’s a little touched in the head, if you ask me. Probably doesn’t need to be in Declan, but given that he assaulted the Archers, he ended up here.”
Finn grunted. “I see.”
The warden looked up. “Do you? Then you can get going. I have quite a bit still to do.”
Finn resisted the urge to snap at the warden. There was a time when he would have tried to put the man in his place. Executioners oversaw the prisons, and Master Meyer served as the warden’s superior, but Finn did not, so he was careful. There were other ways he could go about obtaining the information that he wanted.
“Can you tell me about what happened?”
“What would you like to know?”
“With the sentencing today.”
Even as he said it, Finn regretted that he’d asked. He worried about saying anything, worried that Meyer might find out that he was asking questions. At this point, it wasn’t so much a matter of him questioning Meyer, as it was him trying to understand just what had taken place.
“You can ask the hangman.”
Finn sat up, looking at the warden. “I’m asking you.”
The warden rested his hands on the desk, meeting Finn’s eyes. It was one of those situations where Finn wasn’t entirely sure how the warden would react. Technically, Meyer served as the master of wardens and oversaw the function of each of the prisons. Meyer had been the one to choose Matthew Jakes, though he had done so with the approval of Geldan and the viscount. Given that the wardens served on behalf of the king, and that role was an extension of the king’s justice, they were deemed to be a part of the city in a way that the Archers were not.
“Not much to say,” the warden finally said, glancing down at the pages. “Mid-level merchant. Apparently had some connections within the city, though wasn’t from here. Got in a dispute regarding some trade and killed a man. Happens from time to time, you know.”
It did happen, and Finn did know, but there was something about the story that didn’t feel quite right. It was similar to what Esmerelda had shared with him, so from that standpoint it probably was accurate, but it seemed unusual that there would be such disagreement amongst the jurors on Geldan.
“Did he know the magister?”
The warden looked up. “What’s that?”
“The condemned. Did he know the magister?”
The warden shrugged. “Can’t say I know whether he did or not. He’d been coming to the city for a few years and had some experience with many people here. Most were surprised he would kill, though you know how that is.”
Finn nodded, leaning back in the chair, and playing out the scenario at the Stone in his mind again and again. There had been a look on Geldan’s face that had suggested something more than just a passing familiarity. It had been personal for him. That was unusual.
“Do you have documentation about the prisoner?”
The warden glanced up. “Do I have what?”
Finn held up the pages on the prisoners he needed to question. “Something like this.”
“Have to get that from the hangman.”
Finn considered pressing. He knew the warden kept his own documentation, duplicates of what he had handed over to them. Arguing with him and pushing wasn’t going to get him anywhere. Besides, Finn really should’ve been asking Meyer, especially if he had questions.
He got to his feet. “Thank you for your time.”
The warden didn’t look up. “It’s good you’re back. We need things to get back to normal.”
