Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Magnus lay, still in his clothes, on top of the bed with a blanket
"Magnus, ye barely slept last night. Why dinnae ye get more comfortable?"
"I've slept in worse ways. Get some rest."
Ada was quiet for a moment. "Ye're stubborn."
"So are ye." Magnus settled, stretched his legs out. "Goodnight, Ada."
"Goodnight."
He listened to her breathing gradually even out, watched the candlelight flicker across the stone walls. The keep was quiet around them—just the usual night sounds of guards changing shifts, the distant crash of waves against the cliffs.
Magnus closed his eyes. Tried to ignore the warmth of bed under the sheets, and the woman in them who was slowly becoming more than just his political obligation.
He must have dozed eventually, because the next thing he knew, alarm bells were ringing.
Magnus jerked upright, instantly awake. The bells continued, urgent, insistent. Fire. The pattern meant fire.
"What—" Ada sat up in bed, her eyes wide. "What's happenin'?"
"Stay here." Magnus was already moving, grabbing his boots, his cloak. "Lock the door behind me. Dinnae open it fer anyone but me or Torvald."
"Magnus."
"Stay here, Ada.”
Without waiting for her response, Magnus ran.
Down the corridor, down the stairs, out into the courtyard. Even before he reached the outer yard, he could smell it—smoke, thick and acrid. Could see the orange glow against the night sky.
The storage shed.
The one near the stables where they kept hay and grain for winter. It was fully engulfed, flames leaping twenty feet into the air.
"Water!" Magnus shouted. "Form a line from the well! And get those animals out of the stables before the fire spreads!"
Men were already moving, some still pulling on shirts, others barefoot in their haste. Magnus saw Torvald organizing a bucket line, saw guards rushing toward the stables.
And there, near the front of the shed, he saw Donnan. The Highlander was pulling burning hay away from the wall, shouting orders to the men around him, his face smudged with soot.
Yet… something about the man did not sit well with him.
Magnus filed the thought away for later and focused on what mattered, stopping the fire before it reached the stables. If the horses panicked, if they couldn't get them out in time...
He grabbed a bucket from the line, threw water on the nearest flames. Again. Again. The heat was intense, stealing the air from his lungs.
From inside the stables, he heard a horse scream.
Magnus dropped the bucket and ran.
The stable door hung open, smoke already pouring inside. Most of the horses were out, he could see them milling in the far paddock, frightened but safe. But from the back stall, that screaming continued.
Magnus ducked inside, covering his mouth with his cloak. The smoke was thicker here, burning his eyes and throat. He found the stall—one of the older mares, wild-eyed with terror, her lead rope tangled in the gate latch.
"Easy, lass. Easy." Magnus worked at the knot, his fingers clumsy with urgency. The mare thrashed, nearly catching him with a hoof. "Dinnae make this harder—"
The rope came free. Magnus grabbed the mare's halter, pulled her toward the door. She fought him every step, her hooves clattering on the stone floor.
They burst out into the yard. Magnus released her, watched her bolt toward the other horses.
"Magnus!" Torvald's voice. "Old Callum's trapped!"
Magnus spun. At the far end of the burning shed, he saw movement. An old man—Callum, the stable master—was trying to pull a beam that had fallen across the doorway. The beam was on fire, and Callum was struggling with its weight.
Before thinking twice, Magnus ran.
"Callum! Get back!"
"The tools, me faither's tools, they're inside."
"Forget the damn tools!" Magnus reached him, grabbed his arm. "Ye're goin' tae get yerself killed!"
"I cannae leave them."
A section of the roof collapsed with a roar of flame. Burning thatch rained down around them. Magnus threw himself over Callum, felt heat sear across his shoulder as a piece of burning wood struck him.
Pain. Sharp and immediate.
Magnus ignored it. He dragged Callum away from the shed, toward the safety of the bucket line. The old man was coughing, his face blackened with soot, but alive.
"Stay here," Magnus ordered. "Dinnae move."
He turned back to the fire. The bucket line was working, slowly, painfully, but working. The flames were beginning to die down, contained to just the shed now. They'd lost the building, but the stables were safe. The animals were safe.
That was what mattered.
As dawn began to lighten the eastern sky, the last of the flames sputtered out. What remained of the shed was a smoking ruin, charred beams and ash, nothing salvageable.
Magnus walked the perimeter, studying the damage. His shoulder throbbed where the burning wood had struck him, but he ignored it. There would be time to tend wounds later.
Near the back wall, something caught his eye. He knelt down.
A broken jug. Clay shards scattered across the ground, and the unmistakable smell of oil.
Magnus picked up a piece, turned it over in his hand. This wasn't a storage jug. It was too small, too fine. The kind of thing someone would carry to deliberately spread oil and start a fire.
And there, pressed into the soft earth near the wall, a boot print. Large and too deep to have been made casually.
Someone had stood there and had started the fire deliberately.
"Torvald."
His second appeared at his elbow. "Aye?"
"Look at this." Magnus pointed to the boot print and the clay shard in his hand. "This wasnae an accident."
Torvald's expression darkened. "Are ye sure?"
"Oil jug. Boot print too big tae belong tae our stable boys." Magnus stood, his jaw tight. "Someone set this fire on purpose."
"But why? Who would dae something like that?"
“This I dinnae ken. I need ye to investigate this.”
"Aye, me laird!"
Magnus turned, still looking around for any clue and caught sight of Ada. She stood at the edge of the yard, still wearing her night shift with a cloak thrown hastily over it, her blonde hair loose and wild around her face.
Fury surged through him. "What are ye daein' here? I told ye tae stay in the chamber." Magnus crossed to her in three long strides. "I told ye tae lock the door and wait fer me."
"I ken what ye told me, but people needed help, it’s a fire Magnus."
"What if it wasnae just a fire? What if we were under attack? What if someone had set this deliberately tae draw us out?" Magnus grabbed her shoulders, not roughly but firmly. "Ye could have been hurt. Killed. Dae ye understand that?"
Ada's chin lifted. "I'm nae helpless, Magnus. I'm learning tae become a healer. When people are injured, I help. That's what I dae."
"And when ye're dead because ye ran toward danger instead of away from it, who will help them then?" Magnus released her, ran a hand through his hair. "Damn, Ada."
"That is exactly what yer dae. I'm sorry I worried ye. But I'm fine, and people need—" Ada stopped. Her gaze dropped to his shoulder. "Ye're hurt. Ye're bleedin' through yer shirt." Ada moved closer, reaching for the torn fabric. "Let me see."
"Later."
"Now." Ada's voice was firm. "If ye're goin' tae yell at me fer nae stayin' safe, then ye dinnae get tae ignore yer own injuries."
Torvald cleared his throat. "She has a point."
Magnus shot him a look. Torvald grinned and walked away.
"Fine," Magnus said. "But nae here. Inside."
"I can see tae it here."
"Inside, Ada. I willnae have the whole keep watchin' while me wife tends me wounds."
Ada's expression softened slightly. "All right. Inside."
They walked back toward the keep. Magnus was acutely aware of the men watching them—with concern, with curiosity, some with barely hidden smirks.
His laird, brought to heel by a slip of a Highland lass barely five feet tall.
He'd hear about this for weeks.
They reached their chamber. Ada immediately moved to the basin, poured fresh water, gathered clean cloth. "Sit."
"I'm fine standin'."
"Sit."
Magnus sat.
Ada moved behind him, began easing his shirt off his shoulders. Her fingers were gentle, careful not to pull at the burned fabric where it stuck to his skin.
"This is goin' tae hurt," she warned.
Ada pulled the last of the shirt away. Magnus hissed.
"Sorry."
"It's fine. Just dae what ye need tae dae.”
Ada wet a cloth and began cleaning the wound with careful, methodical movements. Magnus gritted his teeth against the sting.
"Ye're lucky. It's nae as bad as it looks," Ada said after a moment. "But it's burned as well as cut. "
"Lucky. Right."
"Hold still." Ada's fingers moved across his back, checking for other injuries. Her touch was professional, clinical.
But Magnus felt it like fire.
She was so close he could smell her—that herb-scent from her hair, clean linen from her shift. Could feel her breath against his neck as she leaned in to examine the wound more closely.
"Ada," he said, his voice rougher than intended.
"Aye?"
What was he trying to say? That having her touch him like that was torture? That every careful press of her fingers against his skin made him want to pull her into his lap and kiss her until neither of them could breathe?
"Daes it hurt?" Ada asked quietly.
"Nay. It's fine." Magnus forced himself to sit still. "Are ye almost done?"
"Almost." Ada wrapped clean linen around his shoulder, securing it with practiced efficiency. "There. Mairi can look at it later, make sure I didnae miss anythin', but it should heal clean."
"Thank ye."
Ada moved around to face him. She was close—close enough that Magnus could see the gold flecks in her hazel-green eyes, could count the freckles across her nose.
"Ye scared me," she said softly. "When I saw ye run intae the stable. I thought—"
A knock at the door.
"Me laird?" Torvald's voice. "The Council's gatherin'. They're waitin' fer ye."
Magnus cursed under his breath. "Aye. I'll be there shortly."
Ada stepped back, her hand falling away. The loss of her touch felt physical.
"Go," she said. "They need ye."
Magnus stood, pulled on a clean shirt despite the protest from his injured shoulder. "Stay in the keep today. Please. Until we ken what's happenin'."
"I'll stay." Ada moved to the window, wrapped her arms around herself.
He left before he could do something foolish. Like pull her back into his arms.
The Council meeting was tense.
Magnus stood at the head of the table, his shoulder throbbing beneath the bandage, and told them what he'd found. The oil jug. The boot print. His certainty that the fire had been set deliberately.
"Who would dae such a thing?" Fergus demanded. "We've nay enemies on Barra."
"We've plenty of enemies beyond Barra," Magnus said grimly. "Someone who wants tae see the Pact fail. Someone who'd benefit from makin' me look weak, unable to protect me own people."
"Or someone already inside the keep," Torvald added. "Someone who kens the layout, kens where the guards patrol."
Magnus thought of Donnan. Playing hero during the fire, shouting orders, drawing attention to himself.
Too convenient. Too perfect.
"Double the guard," Magnus ordered. "I want men watchin' the stores, the wells, the armory. Anythin' that could be sabotaged. And I want to ken everyone's movements from now on—who goes where, when, why."
"That'll take men away from other duties."
"I dinnae care. We've been attacked twice now—the poisoned well, now this fire. There willnae be a third time." Magnus's voice hardened. "We have tae find whoever's daein' this. Before they kill someone."
The meeting dragged on—discussions of patrol rotations, supply inventories, damage assessments. By the time it ended, Magnus's head was pounding and his shoulder felt like someone had driven a hot poker through it.
He needed air. Needed to think.
Magnus left the keep, walked toward the gardens. They were winter-bare but peaceful, the only sound the wind through skeletal branches and the distant crash of waves.
He was by the fountain when Ada’s maid passed.
“Me laird.”
“Where’s me wife?”
“She left her chambers nae long ago me laird.”
Magnus turned, scanning the gardens. Where would she go? The healer's chamber? The kitchens?
Movement near the garden wall caught his eye. Ada, kneeling in the dirt, gathering something—herbs, maybe, or roots. Her cloak spread around her, her blonde hair bright in the sun.
Relief and fury warred in Magnus's chest.
He crossed to her in long strides. "What are ye daein'?"
Ada jumped, nearly dropped the plants she'd gathered. "Magnus! Ye scared me."
"I told ye to stay inside."
"I am. The gardens are inside the walls."
"Ye ken what I meant." Magnus pulled her to her feet. "After everythin' that's happened, after I specifically asked ye tae be careful, I find ye kneelin' in the dirt where anyone could—"
"Could what? Attack me in broad daylight in yer own gardens?" Ada pulled her arm free. "I was gatherin' herbs for Mairi. We're low on feverfew and she needs them."
"I dinnae care what she needs. I care about ye bein' safe."
"I am safe."
"Ye're nae safe! Someone poisoned the well. Someone set fire tae the shed. Someone is tryin' tae hurt this keep, hurt me people, and until I ken who it is, ye are nae safe anywhere if ye’re nae with me!" Magnus's voice rose. "Dae ye understand that?"
Ada stared at him. "Ye are worried."
"Of course, I am worried! Ye're me wife." Magnus stopped and took a breath.
"I ken." Ada's expression softened. "But ye cannae expect me to hide in our chamber like a scared child. I'm nae made that way."
"I ken that. But I need ye tae be careful. Tae think before ye wander off alone." Magnus moved closer. "I cannae protect ye if I dinnae ken where ye are."
"And I cannae be useful if I'm locked away." Ada lifted her chin. "We need tae find a balance."
"Aye. We dae." Magnus reached out, tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "But fer now, until we catch whoever's daein' this, can ye at least tell me when ye're leavin' the chamber? So I dinnae lose me mind thinkin' somethin's happened tae ye?"
Ada's breath caught. They were close again, too close. Magnus could see the pulse beating at the base of her throat, could feel the warmth of her body.
"Aye," she whispered. "I can dae that."
Magnus's gaze dropped to her lips. He remembered the kiss at their wedding. The way she'd responded, the heat between them.
He wanted to kiss her again. Wanted it so badly his hands trembled with the effort of holding back.
Ada swayed toward him, her eyes darkening.
"Me laird!"
They jumped apart. A guard stood at the garden entrance, his expression apologetic.
"What?" Magnus's voice came out sharper than intended.
"Torvald needs ye. Says it's urgent."
“Jesus! Cannae I get a moment in this keep?” Magnus cursed inwardly. "Tell him I'll be there shortly."