The King's Executioner (10 page)

“Do whatever you must to end this evil.”

Paine always did what had to be done whether he liked it or not. One thing he never strayed from, though, was talking with his prisoners before beginning torture. Sometimes he got the answer he wanted after a short conversation. He did not like to torture. Most people confessed to anything to end their suffering and that did not always get the truth, and the King demanded the truth. He would see what each man told him, then decide if he should proceed with torture.

Anin lagged behind Paine, turning her head several times as they walked away to get another look at the young man. He stared after them, his eyes so wide she thought they would burst from his head. Could he do such a horrible thing to one of his tribesmen? Or was it as he said, he tried to help the dying man? She could find out with one touch. She had to contain the overwhelming urge to rush over to him and lay her hand on him. She would know then if he killed the man or not.

She chastised herself for the foolish thought. Her mum had warned her repeatedly not to pay heed to such nonsense that it would not serve her well. It had been difficult to do as she had cautioned and since meeting Paine, her urge to touch, to feel had grown too strong to fight against.

“Anin!”

She jumped and turned to Paine.

“Three times I have called you.”

His words were stern and she thought him angry, but his eyes held concern. “Endless thoughts,” she said, offering an explanation and went to his side, Bog keeping close to her.

Anin followed Paine from place to place and listened intently as he spoke with the men who had found the bodies. He asked several of the same questions more than once and Anin began to see how the men would sometimes answer differently.

By the time Paine finished questioning the last man, he turned to Conmar and said, “See that Dunnard is tied securely for the night.”

“You believe Dunnard brought this evil down on us?” Conmar asked.

“Tomorrow I will know for sure and do what must be done.”

Conmar nodded. “I am relieved to hear this.” He showed them into a small dwelling, pleasantly warm from the roaring flames in the fire pit.

“I will see Dunnard secured, though I would ask you to see for yourself that we secured him well enough.”

“Let me know when it is done.”

Conmar hurried and took his leave, anxious to see to the task.

“Do you believe Dunnard guilty?” Anin asked, drawing closer to the fire pit and holding her chilled hands out to warm them.

“I believe that it is odd that he came upon Hendrid still alive and saw or heard nothing. All the other men had been found well after they had died. Also the evil did not start until after he arrived. He will tell me more when I speak with him.”

She saw concern in his eyes and gentle warmth spread through her or was it the fire’s heat that warmed her? “Dunnard’s words seemed heartfelt.”

“I have heard such heartfelt talk before only to discover it lies.”

Shouts from outside drew their attention and a knock sounded at the door. Paine opened it to find Conmar’s wife, Phillia standing there.

“Conmar says you must hurry. The tribesmen are calling for Dunnard’s head.”

Anin hurried after Paine as well as Bog.

“Cut him open like he did to others,” one man shouted.

“Nay, let him rot on the stake for a few days before we slit him open,” another cried out.

“I did nothing. Nothing,” Dunnard shouted.

Anin stood shocked after breaking through the crowd with Paine. Dunnard was naked and pressed against a tall stake in the ground as rope was coiled around him from his ankles to just below his shoulders. Blood marred his head and face where swaths of his beard and hair had been cut away.

“I did nothing,” Dunnard pleaded again and a stone struck him, bouncing off the rope. Several more followed, some catching his flesh, leaving him bleeding.

“Enough!” Paine shouted and went and stood in front of Dunnard. “You will leave this man to me or suffer for it, and I will see that your suffering will be far greater than his. Now leave and do not return here.”

People scurried off afraid of what the executioner could do to them.

Paine walked up to Dunnard. “Think on what you will tell me tomorrow.”

“I told you everything. I beg you to believe me.”

“Think on it, for I will get the truth from you,” Paine said and turned away to stand in front of the young man until everyone had gone. When the first drop of rain struck the ground, Paine took Anin by the arm and hurried her to their dwelling.

Anin stood again by the fire pit warming herself, though she did not know if her chill came from the cold the rain had brought with it or from seeing Dunnard suffer so badly.

“I do not believe he killed those men,” she said.

“Because his words are so heartfelt? Great suffering and fear can force the tongue to say anything.”

She shuddered, thinking of the poor young man, rain pouring down on him and darkness falling.

Paine went to her and took her hands in his, rubbing them. “Many claim themselves innocent when they are far from it.”

“Have you found none to be innocent out of all those you have tortured and beheaded?”

He stopped rubbing her hands, released them, and took a step away from her. He had no right touching her with hands that had brought so much pain and death.

“Not one innocent person?” she asked when he failed to answer.

“There was a woman.” His brow scrunched in thought as a memory surfaced. “I was sent to a village where a healer was accused of stealing the breaths of some recently born bairns. The tribe wanted her to suffer before I took her life. She had been beaten badly, burned on parts of her body, and her long gray hair chopped short.

“When the torture began, she did not beg for her life or scream out her innocence. She begged for help for two bairns that were due to be born. She feared for their lives. She pleaded with me to send for a healer from another tribe to tend the births.” He shook his head. “The torture continued and still she begged for those bairns to be protected. That night one of the women started birthing. She and the bairn were soon in trouble. It was the chieftain’s sister who was giving birth and she begged for the skilled healer to help her. He granted her permission, but only if I attended the birth and made certain she did not steal the bairn’s breathes.

“I watched the healer soothe the mum, though she herself suffered from what had been done to her, and coax the baby out with little difficulty. The caring smile on her beaten face was something I will never forget. If I had not turned my head away for moment, I would not have caught or stopped the healer’s helper from smothering the bairn with her hand over his little mouth and nose.

“It did not take long for her to confess to what she had done. Angry at not having bairns of her own, she wanted no other women to have them.”

Anin felt relief for the healer and sadness for the woman. “What happened to the healer?”

“There were some who believed the healer helped the woman even though the woman insisted otherwise. I advised her to leave the tribe and she agreed. She is now King Talon’s healer.”

Anin smiled, happy for the healer. “If one proved innocent, could not others?”

“We have no time for this.”

She walked over to him and laid her hand on his arm. “There is always time for the truth.” A tingle of desire rushed through her and tender warmth hugged her. She had touched him without thought or consequence, but was glad she did. She let her hand stay as it was, enjoying the comforting feeling that drifted from him into her.

Paine stepped away reluctantly, her simple touch causing far too much feeling to stir in him. “Remember do not leave my side while we are here.”

“As you wish,” she said. He did not have to tell her to stay close, she wanted to do so. Oddly enough, she felt that she belonged beside him and she did not know what she would do when he finally left her.

“Sleep, for we are lucky to have sleeping pallets and shelter from the rain tonight,” Paine said.

Anin did as he said and not soon after fell into a peaceful slumber.

She did not know what woke her, the crackle of the fire or the stillness around it. Paine slept a distance from her and Bog slept in front of the door, though his head shot up when she sat up. Something disturbed her. She did not need to think on what it was, she knew.

One touch and she would know if Dunnard was innocent. One touch could save him.

Quietly Anin got to her feet and so did Bog. Keeping her steps light, she approached Bog and leaned down close to whisper, “Not a sound.”

He seemed to understand and since he had been given no order to stop her, followed her out the door.

The rain had stopped, taking the chill with it and leaving a heavy haze behind to greet the morn. Confident she could find her way to Dunnard, she took a step into the thick mist.

It was strangely quiet. Anin listened for any little sound, the hoot of an owl, the drip of water the rainstorm left behind, the scurry of nocturnal animals, but there was nothing. It was as though the mist snuffed out all sound.

She took cautious steps, Bog so close to her side she felt him rub against her leg. Her ear finally caught a sound and she stopped and listened.

“Help me! Help me!”

Anin followed the faint pleading until she was able to make out a shadow not far from her. When a low growl erupted in Bog’s throat, she stopped. Had the shadow moved? Was there someone there with her? She looked around, the mist so thick she could see nothing, not even the shadow that had been there. Had she been foolish in her thinking? Could a demon be following her ready to rip her apart as he had done to the others?

The pleading voice called out again, more anxiously this time. She decided there was nothing left for her to do but follow it and learn the truth. If she did not have Bog with her, she may have thought differently. She took several steps when the pleading stopped, though she did not. She followed where she believed the sound had come from and soon came upon Dunnard.

He gasped when she stopped in front of him.

“I mean you no harm,” she said softly.

“Please, you must help me. I swear I killed no one.”

It was frightening enough walking in the thick mist, not able to see anything around you, but to be tied to a stake helpless had to be terrifying beyond measure.

Anin raised her hand to place it on his bare shoulder, to comfort and to discover the truth. She brought her hand down gently to rest on his wet, chilled skin. Cold seeped into her at first, then suddenly terrifying helplessness gripped and twisted her insides. It changed so quickly almost as if she had never felt it. Instead, a strange sensation took hold of her, pleasure from inflicting horrible pain on others. She had to fight her way through the horrible sensation, feeling smothered by the evil that was rising up and surrounding her.

A hand suddenly clamped around her wrist, yanking her hand off the young man and spinning her around.

“Did you not hear me when I ordered you not to leave my side?” Paine asked with sharp anger.

Anin glared at Paine, unable to say anything, wanting desperately to let him know that he was right. Evil resided in Dunnard.

“Are you feeling unwell, Anin?” Paine asked concerned that she appeared as if she wanted to speak but could not.

Dunnard spoke up. “She is a seer, is she not? Is that not why she touched me, to see the truth for herself? And the truth has left her speechless, for she knows I killed no one.”

“She is no seer,” Paine said, though looked at Anin questioningly. Could it be possible? Could she be a seer? Could that be the secret her mum had been hiding?

“She is a seer,” Dunnard insisted. “A seer sees the past and the future. What is my fate? Please tell me.”

Paine’s hand fell off Anin’s wrist to quickly reach out and grab Dunnard’s hair, giving it a hard yank. “I am your fate!”

“I did nothing. I beg you to believe me. I did nothing!” Dunnard pleaded.

“I will see you soon and you will confess the truth,” Paine said and turned, taking firm hold of Anin’s arm and hurrying her away. Once they reached the dwelling, he opened the door roughly and shoved her inside. “Do you wish me to suffer unspeakable torture before I lose my head?”

The thought turned her sick and she shook her head and was glad her voice had returned to her. “Never would I want you to suffer and I most certainly do not wish death upon you.”

Paine took such quick steps toward her that she scurried away from him, her back hitting the wall. He planted both hands on either side of her head and brought his face close to hers. “Never, ever, disobey me again. If I fail to deliver you safely to the King, he will see me suffer far beyond any suffering I have brought on others.”

Anin reached up and laid a hand to his warm cheek, flushed hot from anger. “Forgive my thoughtlessness. I will not diso—” Her words died instantly when Paine’s true feelings rushed over her.
Fear
. Not for himself, for her. Fear that something had happened to her. Fear that he failed to save her. Fear that he would never see her again.

Paine had never seen such tenderness and caring in anyone’s eyes as he did in Anin’s. One look could soothe and—his eyes flared when suddenly her eyes looked at him as if she had just discovered something—about him.

Her fingers drifted off his cheek to his lips and he warned himself to stop her, but he did nothing. He stood still, not moving, his breath caught somewhere inside him. And when her fingers drifted faintly across his lips, he whispered her name in warning, “Anin.”

His warm breath kissed her fingers, sending a rush of tingles through her. She instinctively, without thought or consequences, went up on her toes and brought her lips to meet his.

Paine grabbed her by the arms, intending to push her away. Instead, he yanked her against him, settling his lips over hers in a hungry kiss.

Anin felt something in her spark and fire to life, as if she had never truly been alive until this very moment. When he slipped his tongue into her mouth to mate with hers, she felt herself slip deep within him, where spirit stirs, and somehow lock there. They were one now and would always be and nothing would ever change that. It was a strange sensation, a rhythm of sorts, almost as if their hearts beat together as one.

Anin’s breath was suddenly ripped out of her when Paine shoved her away. She stood there a moment, her hand to her chest, fighting to regain her breath and her wits.

Paine turned away, fighting for breath, feeling as if it had been torn out of him. He turned back in haste. “I know of seers who can rob a man of his breath and thoughts. Are you one of them? Is that why your mum did not want you to wed the King?”

His words pierced her chest, hurting so badly that she dropped down on the bench to the side of the door. “I am no seer.”

He could still feel the taste of her on his lips, hot and hungry. He rarely kissed women. It was a good poke he would have with those willing, but not a kiss did he share. A poke was a poke, but a kiss meant much more. He had not intended to kiss her, so why had he?

“You wanted to kiss me as much as I wanted to kiss you.”

“You know my thoughts,” he accused.

She wanted to tell him that she felt everything he felt for her, but her mum’s warning rang clear in her head.

Tell no one.

And this time she listened. “I know what I see on your face and,” —she placed her hand on her chest—” I know what I feel.”

Paine turned away from her again and walked around the fire pit, so that it separated them. He was trying to find an excuse to explain it all when he knew full well what he had felt, still felt, and feared he would always feel. And the kiss had proven it to him. It had reached down so deep in him he had thought their spirits touched and united, joining them together forever.

It had shocked him and that was why he had shoved her away and for no other reason, not even that she was to be Queen.

He turned slowly to face her. “This cannot be. You are meant to be Queen.” He raised him hand, stopping her when she went to respond. “It is done. We speak of this no more.”

Anin held her tongue. It would do no good to tell me that she was meant to be his and he was meant to be hers. How she knew that she could not say, but as sure as light graced the land each morn, she knew it to be true.

“Dunnard will tell anyone who will listen—and many will—that you are a seer. I will have to tell the King of this incident or he will hear of it from someone else and demand to know why I did not tell him.”

“If I was a seer, I would have been able to warn you about the Drust attacks before they happened. I am no seer.”

“Why did you go see Dunnard?”

How could she explain to him what she could not explain to herself? She chose to tell him a partial truth. “I believed Dunnard innocent and wished to talk with him.”

Paine walked around the fire pit to stand a safe distance from her with his arms folded across his chest. “I do not believe you. Now tell me the truth.”

He was good at getting the truth from people in any way he could. She had seen that when he questioned the tribesmen who had found the bodies. She worried that a few choice questions might reveal what she wished to keep hidden. She had to be careful of her responses.

“I think you are right about Dunnard. He lies easily.”

“And what brought you to this conclusion?”

“That he claims me a seer, thinking it will save him. As you said yourself, he will tell everyone that I am a seer and convince them I know of his innocence.”

“He will not have time for such claims.” He tilted his head, seeing a slight scrunch of her brow. “Is there something else you have not told me?”

His ability to see more than most frightened Anin. It could prove difficult when harboring a secret. “I do not know if it matters or not, but I recall seeing a shadow pass by near Dunnard as he begged for help.”

He wanted to reach out and snatch her up against him and never let her go, for fear of something dreadful happening to her, but he did not move. He simply shook his head and ordered, “Never again will you place yourself in danger.”

“Bog was with me,” she said as if there had been nothing to fear.

“He did not go after the shadow?”

“He growled, but never left my side.”

Paine looked to Bog and nodded. “Good work, Bog.”

The wolf jumped to his feet from where he lay by the door and started growling just before terrifying screams pierced their dwelling.

Paine grabbed his battle axe and Bog waited anxiously at the door. Anin followed both of them as they rushed out of the dwelling and into chaos.

“The demon struck again,” a woman screamed, joining the others who were running frantically through the village.

Paine grabbed Anin’s hand and she held on tight, fearful of being torn away from him in the rushing crowd. Mist still lingered, though not as heavily, leaving it easier for them to follow the others. It was on the outskirts of the village, near a stream where everyone gathered.

Paine pushed his way through the crowd, though they parted as soon as they saw it was the executioner and his wolf.

“He has struck again,” Conmar said as he turned and spotted Paine. “How is this possible with Dunnard tied to the stake?”

“Dunnard is possessed of a demon who takes to flight whenever he wishes,” someone yelled out.

Others agreed with similar shouts.

Paine turned a powerful voice on them all. “Go to your dwellings and stay there until otherwise told and do not go near the prisoner.”

All eyes turned to Conmar.

“Innocent or guilty, Dunnard needs to die now to stop the fear and madness that grips my tribe.”

“Dunnard will die when I command it,” Paine ordered. “Have them obey me or suffer for it.”

Fear gripped Conmar as strongly as it did the tribe and he threatened, “I have a village of warriors.”

“And who do you think they will obey when I take your head in one swift blow and hold it up for all to see?” Paine raised his battle axe to his waist.

Conmar was quick to shout, “Do as the executioner says. Return home.”

Grumbles filled the air as the crowd began to disperse reluctantly.

Paine looked to Anin and ordered, “Turn away.”

Anin did so without protest. She had no desire to look upon the horrific scene. And she was pleased when Bog sat beside her after Paine ordered him to guard.

A few steps took Paine and Conmar to the body and he crouched down to get a better look. “His name?”

“Rolson... a good warrior who many of the lasses favored.”

“Is he one of the added sentries you posted last night?”

“How did you know I added sentries?”

“You would have to be a fool not to.”

“He was one of several, though the heavy mist made their task more difficult,” Conmar confirmed.

“Who found Rolson?” Paine asked.

Conmar nodded toward a woman sitting beneath a tree, her head slumped. “Young Areanis came upon the awful scene.”

“Bring her here,” Paine ordered.

“Areanis, come here,” Conmar called out and she stumbled to her feet to hurry and do as he ordered.

Anin felt sorry for the young woman as she watched her approach. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying and she wore no shoes. Her hands and feet were covered with blood and blood was splattered all over her tunic.

“She tripped over Rolson and by the time she was able to get to her feet, she was drenched in blood. She is frightened that death has touched her and will claim her next,” Conmar explained before the young woman reached them.

“You found Rolson?” Paine asked and Areanis started trembling.

She bowed her head. “The mist was so thick I did not see him. I thought I had tripped over a fallen tree. When I saw Rolson and all the blood on me, I started screaming and tried to get the blood off me. She demonstrated, rubbing her hand on her tunic frantically.

“What were you doing here?”

Areanis seemed reluctant to answer.

“Answer the executioner!” Conmar ordered sharply.

“I was meeting Rolson.”

“You saw nothing, heard nothing before finding him?” Paine asked.

Areanis shook her head. “I could not take my eyes off Rolson. His insides were spilled out around him.” Her trembling increased and tears pooled in her eyes. “The demon got him and he is going to get the rest of us. You must save us, please,” she begged tears running down her face.

“This madness cannot be allowed to continue,” Conmar said.

“Death touched me. He will come after me next. I will die like all the others,” Areanis cried, her shoulders slouching in defeat and her tears clearing a path through the blood on her cheeks.

Shouts rang out. “Dunnard broke free. He broke loose. The demon is free.”