Chapter 20 #2
Magnus leaned down, pressed a kiss to her forehead. Soft. Lingering. The kind of kiss that said things he wasn't ready to put into words yet. Things about caring and protection and the terrifying realization that her safety had become more important to him than his own.
When he pulled back, Ada's eyes were wide, her lips parted slightly in surprise.
"Go on," Magnus said quietly. "I'll walk ye tae our chamber first."
They moved through the dark corridors in silence, Torvald following at a discreet distance. When they reached the chamber door, Ada paused, her hand on the latch.
"Magnus?"
"Aye?"
"Whatever the news is—we'll handle it. Taegether."
Something warm unfurled in Magnus's chest at that single word. Together. As though they were truly a unit now. As though she saw them as partners, not just two people forced into marriage by royal decree.
"Aye," he said. "Taegether."
Ada slipped inside and Magnus waited until he heard the bolt slide home before turning to Torvald. His friend's expression had grown even grimmer in the brief walk.
"How bad?" Magnus asked.
"Bad enough."
They moved quickly through the keep toward the war room, a small chamber off the main hall where Magnus held his most sensitive council meetings.
Three men were already there when they arrived—his weapons master Bjorn, his quartermaster Aldric, and the scout himself, a wiry man named Finn who looked like he'd ridden hard and fast.
"Report," Magnus said without preamble, taking his seat at the head of the table.
Finn straightened. "Me laird, I was daein' the usual perimeter sweep of the southern approaches when I spotted movement near the base of the cliffs.
At first, I thought it might be smugglers—we've had issues with that before.
But when I got closer..." He paused, his jaw tight.
"There were half a dozen men, maybe more.
Armed. Movin' systematic-like along the walls.
Testin' stones. Lookin' fer weaknesses."
Magnus's blood went cold. "How close did they get?"
"Within fifty yards of the eastern postern gate before I lost sight of them.
They kent the land too well, me laird. Moved like they'd scouted it before.
And when they heard me horse, they scattered into the rocks like ghosts.
I tried tae track them but..." Finn shook his head. "It was like they vanished."
"Could they have found the hidden paths?" Bjorn asked, his scarred face creased with concern.
"I dinnae ken. But they were definitely searchin' fer somethin'. Entrances, weak points—somethin' they could use tae get inside without bein' seen."
Magnus's mind raced. Armed men scouting his walls in the dead of night. Looking for hidden entrances. This wasn't random. This was planned. Coordinated.
And it was almost certainly connected to the poisoned well. To the fire. To the attack on Ada.
"Double the guard on all walls," Magnus said, his voice hard as iron. "I want men posted at every entrance, hidden and visible both. And I want every concealed path checked and secured. If there's a weakness, I need tae ken about it before they dae."
"Aye, me laird," Bjorn said, already rising.
"Wait." Magnus held up a hand. "Finn, did ye get a look at any of them? Anythin' that might tell us who they were?"
The scout hesitated. "One thing, me laird. One of them—the leader, I think—he wore somethin' on his shoulder. I couldnae see it clear in the dark, but it looked like... like purple heather."
The room went silent.
Purple heather. The marker of Clan MacTavish.
Ada's father.
Magnus's hands curled into fists on the table. "Ye're certain?"
"As certain as I can be in the dark, me laird. But aye. I'd stake me life on it."
Torvald leaned forward. "If MacTavish is sendin' men tae scout our defenses, it means he's plannin' somethin'. And soon."
"Aye." Magnus's jaw clenched so hard it ached. "The question is what. And how much time we have before—"
The door burst open.
A guard stumbled in, his face white as salt, his chest heaving. "Me laird—the northern wall—I was goin' fer me shift and I found—" He stopped, gasping for air. "The guards. All three of them. They're dead."
Magnus was on his feet before the guard finished speaking. His chair clattered backward, forgotten. "Where?"
"The postern gate. Someone cut their throats. Just—just left them there."
Three guards. Dead. While Magnus sat in this chamber discussing theoretical threats.
While Ada was alone in their chamber, with only a locked door between her and whoever had killed three trained warriors without raising an alarm.
Magnus didn't remember moving. Didn't remember running. One moment he was in the war room, the next he was tearing through the corridors, his heart slamming against his ribs with a terror he hadn't felt since the night Freydis died.
Nae Ada. God, please, nae Ada.
Behind him, Torvald and the others were shouting, their boots pounding stone as they followed. But Magnus didn't slow. Didn't stop. Couldn't stop until he reached their chamber and confirmed with his own eyes that she was safe.
That he hadn't failed to protect her.
That he hadn't lost another wife to violence and betrayal while he sat in meetings discussing security measures that had already been breached.