Page 5 of The Iron Dagger
“What is this potion?”
“It’s to keep the wounds from festering.”
“I don’t trust magic.”
“Really?” she said dryly. She was mocking him. If she wanted to make him feel foolish, he would not let her succeed.
“What’s in it?”
“Honey, cloves, garlic, and a pinch of my special powder. It halts infection in the blood.”
“How do you . . . make it?”
“Human sacrifice.”
Gideon stiffened, and his blood ran cold. Then she laughed, and his irritation almost betrayed him.
As she went to take the bread from the oven, the cat leaped onto the bed and began to knead at his side. He pushed it away, but it stayed firmly in place, unbothered. He pushed it more aggressively, but it only stood, walked just out of reach of his hands, and then curled up on his legs. It watched him with a shrewd yellow stare. Angharad chuckled again.
“Isn’t that the way of cats, always choosing the person who wants the least to do with them?”
“I hate cats,” he grunted. Angharad made a little squeaky noise, and the cat calmly rose from the bed and went to her,leaping onto her shoulder like a chubby parrot. Gideon rested his head against the wall behind the bed.
So he was stuck here. At least until he healed, and then perhaps until the snow had melted enough to walk to the nearest village and get a horse. Did he still have his money pouch? He couldn’t remember.
Angharad came bearing a plate with warm bread and a pat of melting butter.
“Here,” she said, and he took it. “See if you can hold that down. Do you know what you were poisoned with?”
He glanced up at her in alarm. “How did you know I was poisoned?”
“By the way you made me taste the tea earlier. You also had vomit staining your mouth and clothes. It was obvious.” She settled on the edge of the bed. “I Saw some of your memories, but only pieces.”
“Then you must have seen the viper who did it,” he said bitterly. “Saw” it indeed. He knew some sorcerers had Sight, but it was highly unlikely that this country hedgewitch possessed such a rare skill. Now that he considered it, any fool could have seen the state he was in and guessed what happened.
Angharad shook her head. “I didn’t look that closely. I only Saw what happened after.”
He did not know how much he should reveal. The events of the past few days had taught him not to trust women who appeared harmless and sweet.
“My men were ill, and our prisoner offered to help. She made a brew—I think the leaves were green and spiny. She boiled them with sweet sap and spirits. Then the pain started.”
“Holly,” said Angharad. “You’re lucky. She didn’t aim to kill you, and you seem to have recovered from it well. We just need to get that fever under control and heal your foot.”
Lucky. Gideon scoffed and took a bite of his bread. The butter was salty and rich, and his stomach roared with hunger. He devoured the bread in three large bites, and Angharad smiled as she went to cut him another piece.
“Who was this prisoner of yours?” she asked when she had returned.
If Gideon had his way, he would forget it and never mention this folly again. He had been desperate and it made him sloppy, and for that, he paid the ultimate price. It seemed straightforward enough to capture the disgraced sister of the Lenwen king and ransom her in exchange for some lands.
He and his men had no intention to harm her, and he thought she understood the benefits to making a clean exchange. After all, she had only to gain from the transaction. They had treated her well, letting her go unbound and ungagged. But what he hadn’t taken into account was her bizarre desire to return to her hovel in the village and continue living like a hog in filth.
“Was it a ransom?” asked Angharad.
He stared at her, unnerved. Perhaps she did have the Sight after all. It seemed pointless to hide things from her, but she said herself that she hadn’t seen the details. He was not going to reveal them blithely.
“Yes. That is all you need know.”
“Did she have long, golden hair?”
