Page 29 of The Iron Dagger
“He was so brave, I knew he would run right into the thick of battle, the idiot. But I hoped . . . nevermind.” She sniffed and rubbed her sleeve under her nose. “Now I know he’s gone for good, and I can say goodbye. Thank you, Mistress. Your stay is on the house tonight.”
“Oh, no need, we’ve already paid,” said Hara.
“I insist, please. Here.” She dug in her pocket and brought forth some coins, pressing them into Hara’s palm. “I’ve needed to hear that for a long time, and now I know. He wanted it that way—he knew the risk. But at least he planned to come back to me.”
With that, she slid from her chair and brought her apron to her eyes, wiping them as she went into the back.
“Here you are,” said Hara, dropping the coins onto the counter. “It’s your money after all.”
“Keep it. It seems you earned it,” said Gideon, quietly impressed.
After they had eaten, they carried themselves upstairs to see a scullery maid leaving Hara’s room with empty buckets. She smiled shyly as she scurried past them and down the hall.
“Thank you for ordering the bath. I’m sticky and dusty all at once.” She opened the door and Gideon peered inside. A steaming tub was waiting in the center of the room. Before she went in, he touched her arm.
“Hara,” he said. “That was a good thing you did. That girl was obviously glad to hear it.”
Hara sighed sadly. “What I told her was better than the truth.”
Confused, he said, “What do you mean?”
Hara leaned against the doorframe, her voice low. “He didn’t die in battle. He left to be a soldier, but halfway to the castle, he got cold feet and abandoned the army. He was too ashamed to go home, so he met a girl and stayed in her family’s hayloft. She became pregnant with his child, and her brother killed him in a brawl when he wouldn’t marry her. He died in the street, drunk and penniless.”
Gideon felt the tip of her finger under his chin, and realized his mouth had fallen open slightly. “But why did you lie to her?”
Hara took a moment to think before answering. “I could have told her the truth and broken her heart, letting her think ill of the dead and stew in her anger. Or I could have told her what she wished for. Either way, he is dead. So, I chose to give her the ending she wanted.”
Gideon thought of the girl’s face shining with happy, grateful tears at the memory of this worthless coward.
“Instead of letting her know the truth, you’re protecting his legacy. She’s going to go around telling everyone that he’s a war hero,” he said, throwing his hand in the direction of the common room. “And you have the nerve to lecture me about what’s right and wrong? This makes you no better than a charlatan, except I know that your power is real.”
“I suppose you have to consider what is more important: happiness for the living or condemnation of the dead,” she said, her eyes sad.
“Truth!” he said. “Truth is what’s important. You have to tell her the truth.”
“To what purpose?” she said.
He threw his hands up in exasperation. How could one explain that truth was important? It was like trying to convince someone that water was wet. He thought of what recompense they could give the girl, and he remembered the fistful of coins. “She shouldn’t have given you a free night’s stay.”
“I know. That’s why I didn’t want to accept it,” said Hara, digging in her pocket and holding out the coins. He took them from her.
“I’m going to tell her what you just told me.”
Hara grasped his arm as he turned. Her voice was low and urgent. “If you do that, you’ll needlessly break her heart.”
“She asked for the truth and she got a lie,” he said, yanking his arm back and making his way down the stairs. “This is why magic-folk aren’t trusted in the north. This kind of trickery gives you all a bad name.”
“Gideon!” he heard her hiss, but he was already at the landing. As he rounded the corner and entered the back kitchen, he caught a snatch of the girl’s voice.
“ . . . We was childhood sweethearts, thick as thieves. I knew something must have befallen him, but at least now I know I was in his heart until the very end. He always meant to come back to me. He was true,” she was saying to the old cook.
“Makes you believe true love really does live on after death,” said the cook, patting the girl’s arm. “I’m glad for you.”
Gideon halted, the self-righteous determination that pounded through him a moment ago fading. If he barged in there now, not only would he break her heart, he would makeher seem a fool. As much as he wished for the cowardly bastard to be known for what he was, perhaps what was most important now was to show some mercy to the living. The man had gotten his just end.
Gideon looked to the left and saw the inn’s strongbox lying on a shelf under the counter. He placed the handful of coins atop it. That, at least, he could remedy.
When he turned, he saw Angharad standing behind him. Her eyes flicked from the strongbox to him, and relief touched her features. He did not say a word as he brushed past her, making his way up the stairs and to his room.
