Chapter 5 #2
Magnus wanted to argue. Wanted to tell her that his people would tell him anything he needed to know.
"Fine," he said.
They reached the village as the sun began its descent toward the western horizon. It was smaller than Magnus remembered, maybe twenty cottages scattered along the rocky shore, with a few fishing boats pulled up on the beach. Smoke rose from only half the chimneys.
Too quiet. Too still.
Magnus dismounted first, then helped Ada down. She stumbled slightly when her feet hit the ground, her legs stiff from riding. He caught her elbow to steady her.
"Thank ye," she said.
He released her immediately. "Stay close."
Torvald and the guards were already moving toward the nearest cottage. Magnus followed, Ada at his side. An old woman appeared in the doorway—Olivia, he remembered, the village elder's wife.
"Me laird." She bobbed a stiff curtsy. "Thank God ye've come. It's bad, me laird. Real bad."
"Show me."
Inside the cottage, ten people lay on pallets near the fire—three young women, a boy of perhaps ten, four girls, and two older men. All were pale and sweating despite the cold, their breathing shallow and rapid.
Ada moved forward immediately. She knelt beside the woman first, pressing her hand to her forehead, then checking her pulse at her wrist and throat.
"How long has she been like this?" Ada asked Olivia.
"Two days, me lady. Started with a headache, then the fever came on fast.”
Ada moved to the boy next, repeating the same examination. Magnus watched her work—quick, efficient, her movements confident despite her obvious youth. This wasn't her first time treating the sick.
"Have they been able to keep anythin' down?" Ada asked.
"Nae much. Water, mostly, from the well, but even that comes back up."
"And when did the others in the village start fallin' ill?"
"Three days ago. Started with old Callum down by the shore, then spread to his family, then to the others." Olivia wrung her hands. "We thought it was just bad fish at first, but then more took sick, and now—" Her voice broke. "Now we dinnae ken what tae dae."
Ada got up, moved to where Magnus stood near the door. "I need tae speak with ye. Privately."
Magnus followed her outside. Torvald joined them, his expression grim.
"Well?" Magnus asked.
Ada glanced back at the cottage, then at the other houses scattered along the shore. "I need tae ask more questions first, but—" She hesitated. "It's nae a normal sickness. It's spreadin' too fast, affectin' people too similarly. And if it started with the family by the shore..."
"The water," Magnus said, the realization hitting him at the same moment.
Ada's eyes widened. "Aye. I'm thinkin' it might be the water."
They stared at each other for a moment, the shared understanding passing between them like a spark.
Magnus frowned. "We've had nay problems with the wells before."
"That daesnae mean somethin' hasnae changed." Ada looked at him directly. "Let me speak with the villagers. Let me find out who's sick and what they have in common. If we’re right, if it is the water, we need to ken which well is affected before more people drink from it."
Torvald spoke up. "Ye’re both right. If it's the water supply, we could have half the island sick within a fortnight."
Magnus studied Ada's face. She was serious. Certain. And despite his mistrust, despite everything between them, he found himself believing her.
"Fine," he said. "Dae it. But I'm comin' with ye."
They spent the next two hours moving from cottage to cottage. Ada spoke with each family, asking quiet questions while Magnus stood back and observed. She was gentle with them, patient, kind, never rushed.
She held fevered hands, wiped sweating brows and promised them that help was coming, though she was careful never to promise more than that.
Between visits, she scrubbed her hands raw with harsh lye soap, insisting Magnus and the others do the same.
At each hearth, she set water to boil, to make it safe to drink, then coaxed it down fevered throats one careful sip at a time.
And slowly, a pattern emerged.
Every family that had fallen ill drew their water from the same well, the one at the southern edge of the village, closest to the shore. The families who used the northern well remained healthy.
"We'll set up a healin' station in the largest cottage. Ada can show ye what supplies we need." He looked at her. "
Ada blinked, clearly surprised. "Ye... ye trust me tae dae that?"
"Ye've proven ye ken what ye're about." Magnus kept his voice neutral, though something uncomfortable twisted in his chest. "Me people need help. If ye can give it, then aye, I trust ye tae dae that."
For a moment, Ada just stared at him. Then she nodded. "Aye."
"Good." Magnus turned back toward the village. "Torvald, help Lady Ada set up the healin' station. I need tae speak with the village elder about quarantinin' the affected families."
"Me laird," Torvald said. Then, quieter: "That was a wise decision."
Magnus didn't answer. He wasn't sure it was wise at all.
But he'd also watched her work. Watched her move through the sick with confidence and compassion. Watched her ask the right questions and come to the right conclusions.
Perhaps Ada MacTavish wasn't the liar he'd believed her to be.
The thought should have brought relief. Instead, it only complicated everything.
Because trusting her meant letting his guard down. And the last time he'd done that, Freydis had nearly destroyed him.