"Very well." He turned away. "Ye're here now. And ye'll be useful at last. When we attack tomorrow?—"
"Tomorrow?" Ada couldn't hide her surprise.
"Aye. We've waited long enough. Our forces are in position, our plans are made." Conall gestured to the assembled men. "By this time tomorrow, Magnus Haraldson will be dead and I'll controlBarra. With the king's blessin’, of course. Since I'll be the grievin’ faither who had tae save his daughter from her savage husband."
Ada's mouth went dry. Tomorrow. They were planning to attack tomorrow. Which meant Magnus had even less time than they'd thought.
"And what about me?" she asked. "What happens tae me after?"
"Ye'll do as ye're told." Conall's voice was dismissive. "Donnan seems tae think he wants ye. I'm inclined tae let him have ye, since he's been so useful. Consider it a reward fer his service."
Bile rose in Ada's throat. "I see."
"Good. Now prove yer loyalty." Conall gestured to the camp. "Tell me about Magnus's defenses. His routines. Where he's weakest."
This was it. The moment where Ada had to decide—feed him false information and risk him seeing through it, or tell partial truths to maintain credibility.
"The eastern wall," she said, thinking quickly. "It's the oldest part of the keep. Some of the stones are loose, the mortar crumbling. And the guards there rotate at dawn and dusk. There's always a gap of a few minutes where that section is unwatched."
Conall's eyes gleamed. "How dae ye ken this?"
"I've walked those walls. Explored the keep when Magnus was busy with other matters." Ada forced herself to look him in the eyes. "I'm nae a fool, Faither. I kent this day might come. I wanted tae be prepared."
"Smart girl." It was the closest thing to approval she'd ever heard from him. "What else?"
Ada fed him more details—some true, some false, carefully chosen to sound believable while not actually compromising Magnus's real defenses. All the while, her mind raced ahead to what came next.
She had to create her diversion soon, before Conall decided to test her loyalty in some other way. Before Donnan came back and cornered her again.
"I need tae—" Ada pressed a hand to her stomach. "I need tae relieve meself. The ride was long."
"Go." Conall waved her away dismissively. "But dinnae wander far and dinnae even think about runnin'. There's nowhere fer ye tae go out here."
Ada nodded, hurried toward the edge of camp where she'd seen supply wagons earlier. Her heart pounded so hard she could barely hear anything else.
Behind the wagons, away from the main fire, barrels were stacked—some marked with symbols she recognized. Oil. Pitch. Materials meant for burning.
Perfect.
Ada glanced around. Most of the men were gathered near the fire, listening to Conall outline the attack plan. A few stood guard at the camp's perimeter, but they were facing outward, watching for threats from outside.
No one was watching her.
Ada's hands shook as she reached for one of the smaller oil barrels. Carefully, quietly, she tipped it over. Watched the dark liquid spread across the ground, soaking into the dry grass and fallen leaves.
Then she grabbed a torch from its holder near the wagon. Held it for just a moment, gathering her courage.
I'm sorry.
Though she wasn't sure who she was apologizing to.
But this ends now.
She dropped the torch onto the spreading oil.
Flames erupted instantly, faster and fiercer than she'd expected. They raced across the oil-soaked ground, climbed up the side of the wagon, caught on the canvas covering the supplies.
Within seconds, the entire corner of the camp was ablaze.
