Until now.
The door to his study opened and two guards dragged a man inside—bound, filthy, his clothes soaked and reeking of something acrid. The prisoner's face was bruised, one eye swollen shut, blood crusting at his temple.
Magnus finally looked up. "What am I lookin' at?"
"Found him at the southern well, me laird," the first guard said. "The new one we dug after closin' the poisoned one. He waspourin' somethin' into the water. We caught him before he could finish."
The second guard held up a clay jug, careful not to let any of the contents spill. "This is what he was usin'. Smells like the same stuff from before."
Magnus stood slowly, his movements controlled despite the rage building in his chest. He moved around the desk, stopped directly in front of the prisoner.
"Who sent ye?"
The man spat blood onto the floor. Said nothing.
"I asked ye a question." Magnus's voice remained level. Calm. The kind of calm that made seasoned warriors take a step back. "Who. Sent. Ye."
"Go tae hell."
Magnus's hand shot out, grabbed the man by the throat. Not hard enough to choke, but firm enough to make breathing difficult. "I've already been to hell. It wasnae nearly as unpleasant as what I'm about tae dae tae ye if ye dinnae start talkin'."
The prisoner's one good eye widened, but he kept his mouth shut. Stubborn. Or terrified of whoever had sent him.
Magnus released him with a shove that sent the man stumbling backward into the guards' grip. "How many others are there? How many of ye are workin' inside me walls?"
Silence.
"Are ye workin' alone, or is there someone else givin' ye orders?" Magnus moved closer again, his voice dropping dangerously low. "Because if there are more of ye, I will find them. And every moment ye waste with yer silence is another moment they have tae hurt innocent people."
The prisoner's jaw clenched. He stared at the floor, refusing to meet Magnus's gaze.
Magnus tried a different approach. "The poisoned wells. The fire. The attack on Lady Ada. Were ye part of all of it?"
Nothing. Not even a flicker of recognition.
"Fine. Take him tae the dungeons." Magnus turned back to his desk, his shoulders rigid with barely contained fury. "Give him water but nay food. Let him think about how much worse it's goin' tae get come morning."
"Aye, me laird." The guards began dragging the prisoner toward the door.
"Wait." Magnus stopped them with a raised hand. He moved closer again, studied the man's face. Something about himseemed familiar, but Magnus couldn't place where he'd seen him before. "Dae I ken ye?"
The prisoner's expression remained blank. No answer. No acknowledgment.
Magnus felt frustration build in his chest. This man knew something, had to know something. But getting it out of him would take time. Time they might not have.
"Get him out of me sight," Magnus said finally.
The guards hauled the prisoner away, his boots scraping across the floor.
When the door closed, Magnus stood alone in his study. His hands were shaking, from rage or fear or both, he couldn't tell. Another attack. Another attempt to hurt his people, to hurtAda.
And this man refused to say who was behind it all.
The door opened again. Torvald slipped inside, his expression grim. "I heard. They caught one of them."
"Aye. Caught him poisonin' the southern well." Magnus moved to pour himself a drink, his movements jerky with tension. "But he willnae talk and say who sent him or if there are others."
"Did he give ye anythin'? Anythin' at all?"
