Page 64 of Highland Steel

“All right, but I’m in charge of the food and the plans for yer laird’s weddin’,” Bug told him. “Ranulph Drummond told me to give the food to the MacKeefe myself because he thinks MacKeefe will kill anyone who gets near his cell. MacKeefe is kent to be ruthless and also very cunnin’. But if ye want to take it, it would possibly spare my life since he’s angry with me as well, so please do.”

“Hmm,” said the guard. “What kind of food do ye have there?” The guard eyed the covered basket.

“Well, let’s see.” Logan saw Bug taking things out of a basket. “I have some things I’ve traded for in my journeys. Rabbit stew made by the laird’s wife of the MacInnes Clan, fruit pastries filled with gooseberries and currants that the laird’s daughter gave me when I visited the Campbells, and then there’s this.” He put the food down on the bench and held up a bottle. Logan watched the guard pop the cork and take a sniff.

“It’s whisky,” said the guard.

Bug chuckled. “I should say so, but it’s no’ just any whisky. It’s some of the most sought after, coveted whisky in all of Scotland. It’s called Mountain Magic and is brewed by Auld Callum MacKeefe. It’s said to be an elixir to anythin’ that ails ye as well as being the juice of immortality.”

“Immortality?” asked the guard. “How so?”

“Well, look how auld Callum is. It’s said that for one to drink Mountain Magic, it is like addin’ years onto yer life.”

“Give me that,” snarled the guard, ripping the bottle from Bug’s hand and taking a swig. He coughed and looked at the bottle and then smiled. “I think it’s workin’ already,” said the man. “Do I look younger?”

Bug made a face and shook his head. “Nay, no’ yet. If ye want it to work ye’re goin’ to have to drink more than just a swig. Mayhap even the entire bottle.”

“Take that food in to the prisoner, but leave the Mountain Magic with me,” said the guard in a gruff voice.

“Aye,” said Bug, packing up the things while the guard raised the bottle to his mouth once again. “Ye’ll need to open the door,” said Bug.

“Aye,” said the man, pulling the ring of keys from his side and putting the key in the lock. He opened the door for Bug, leaving the keys hanging from the lock. “Go on in, and hurry up about it,” said the man.

Logan paced back and forth again, trying to come up with a plan. Bug walked up to the door, looking back over his shoulder at the guard, downing the rest of the contents of the bottle.

“Logan,” whispered Bug, handing something to him through the bars. “Here, take this, quickly.” He looked over his shoulder once again.

Logan looked down to see the ring of keys dangling from Bug’s fingers.

“Find the one that opens the cell, and give me the ring back before the guard notices it’s missin’.”

“Bug, why are ye doin’ this?” asked Logan, taking the keys and finding the one that fit the lock. He slipped the key off the ring and handed it back to Bug. “Ye shouldna risk yer life to help me.”

“I’m doin’ it for Rhoswen, too,” said Bug, pulling something out from under his cloak and slipping it through the bars.

Logan looked down and smiled. “That looks like Rhoswen’s sword,” he said, taking it from him. “Where did ye get it?”

“I found it in the back of my wagon and thought ye might need it.”

“I’ll say,” said Logan. “It’s no’ my sword but it’ll do in a pinch.”

“Hurry up,” called the guard. “What are ye doin’?” His voice sounded garbled as if the whisky was starting to affect him.

“Ye’d better go back before ye’re caught,” whispered Logan. “I’ll wait for the whisky to knock him out and then I’ll bust out of this place. Put the rest of the keys back in the lock so the guard doesna ken what ye did.” Logan slipped the key to the cell into his sporran and tucked Rhoswen’s sword through his belt. “I wish they hadna found my hidden dirk earlier because I could use that, too, right about now.”

“How about this?” Bug reached down and pulled a dagger out of his boot. “I always keep one handy since I never ken if a Highlander is goin’ to turn against me.”

“Ye are the best, Bug. Now, go on and get out of here. I’ll bust out of here soon.”

“Who are ye?” came Ailsa’s voice from the cell. She pulled herself up and, holding on to the bars of the cell, she walked over to her cell door.

“God’s eyes!” Bug jumped in surprise, not hearing her but seeing her. “Where the hell did she come from?”

“This is Ailsa, Rhoswen’s sister,” Logan told him.

“I thought she was dead,” said Bug.

“So did we.”