Chapter Seventeen #3
MacIan led her and the children toward the shore of the loch and around a curve of the hill, the spread of the glen fading behind them.
Ahead, a massive cluster of limestone and red sandstone rose up near the edge of the loch, partly blocking the view of the winding, pebbled shoreline.
A thicket of bushes and trees further screened the area, but soon Fiona spotted a narrow path that paralleled the shore.
The water slapped rhythmically against the base of a gigantic rock that thrust upward like a chunk of the cliffs above.
“Reverend, where are we going?” Fiona asked. “Children, hold hands and stay by the rock wall. The way through here is narrow. Be careful as you walk. Sir, are you sure Dougal is waiting for us here?”
“Aye, he said he would meet us up there.” Hugh led the way, again taking her arm.
Fiona glanced up at the rock walls. Dark crevices split the rock face, and she could see more gaps hidden by bushes.
Caves likely honeycombed the rock, she thought, caves that smugglers would use.
Dougal might indeed wait up there. Reassured, she followed MacIan and reached back to take Lucy’s hand, the others coming along behind.
“Here,” Hugh said, shepherding them up the rocky slope.
Fiona felt a deep misgiving. She paused, looking around, feeling that something was not right. Why would Dougal want them to come up here? She hung back, but MacIan smiled encouragement, gestured upward, and took her hand this time.
He guided her to walk just ahead of them and gestured toward a triangular crevice in the rock face.
Urging her inside the niche, he ushered the children in with her, and then ducked his head to step inside too.
The entrance was low enough that Fiona had to dip her head a bit too, but once past the overhang of the entrance, she could easily stand upright inside the cavern.
Jamie and Lucy jumped around and hooted with delight to be inside the cavity in the rock, while Annabel turned around in silent awe.
Lucy looked up. “It is not very big! Why are we here, Reverend?”
“Where is Kinloch?” Fiona pulled away from Hugh’s grasp. “Kinloch! Dougal MacGregor!” Her voice echoed. The cave was narrow yet seemed quite deep, and she soon noticed footprints in the scattering of dust on the floor. “Who is here?”
“Kinloch was here, further in with his whisky stock. If he is not here, he will return soon.” MacIan pointed into the shadows formed by the rough creviced walls. The back of the cave ran into deeper darkness, where Fiona could see a sharp downward slope.
“I do not want to be here. I want to the ba’!” Jamie protested. MacIan took the boy’s shoulder and turned him firmly toward a second opening at the back of the cave. Reaching up to a natural shelf, he produced a lantern, which he lit quickly with a flint.
“Go on,” he told them. “It is safe.”
Something was wrong. Fiona reached for Lucy and gathered the three children toward her, backing away, her hands moving along their shoulders, prodding them.
But as she rounded with them toward the light-filled entrance, MacIan stepped in her way.
Tall and broad, he blocked the exit, so that she had to turn sideways, shuffling along with the children.
MacIan turned up the lantern wick to show a rough, descending path.
“This way. You know Kinloch is smuggling cargo out tonight,” he said. “He wants you kept safe should there be trouble. I know more about this than others, so he trusted me to bring you here. Come on.”
Fiona hesitated, looking around, realizing that there were multiple caves connected here in a complex of rock like a honeycomb.
The cells must have formed as bubbles in the intensely hot ancient liquid material that had hardened over eons to form the limestone cave and cavelets where they stood now.
Intrigued by the formations despite her growing wariness, she noticed various strata, sandstone and greywacke sparkling with thousands of crystal particles.
The lantern light caught them, turning common stone to glittering surfaces.
Crystals were embedded beside veins of metal that could, she realized, be mined.
Something else caught her attention then.
“This is astonishing,” she breathed. “Some of these crevices and caves go downward—under the loch!”
“They do. Very good. The caves go deep into the earth, and the loch is above these spaces,” MacIan agreed as they continued downward.
“Under the loch! Woo-hoo!” Jamie hooted, and Lucy echoed him, voices bouncing.
“Hush!” the reverend said sharply.
“I do not want to go under the loch! We will drown!” Annabel said nervously. Fiona took her hand.
“It is perfectly safe,” she assured the girl. “The rock is very, very thick and solid, and it has been here for a very long time.”
“This way,” MacIan said. “Dougal keeps a cave down here. Come on.”
Fiona went forward, keeping the children close.
Peering at the cavelets and niches along the natural corridor, she realized Dougal did indeed use this space.
The lantern light that MacIan carried showed kegs piled inside various spaces, stacked within the smaller caves.
Many were small enough to ride on a man’s shoulder.
Some were larger, the sort that would be rolled along.
The containers stored here could be moved quickly to other caves or out to rowboats that would take the cargo to a cutter on the loch—and away over the water before they could be spotted and followed.
“Where is Kinloch?” she asked.
“He will meet us here, if he is not here already. Kinloch!” MacIan called.
“All of this is whisky to be smuggled? Is that why the game is going on today, to cover this enterprise?”
“I believe so.” MacIan shrugged. “I am only here to help you meet Kinloch. I am not a smuggler.”
“Smugglers’ caves!” Jamie said, as he and Lucy ran ahead with Annabel.
“Quiet,” Hugh said. “Miss MacCarran, I regret bringing the bairns with us. But it was best, since they were with you and would tell others where we went.”
Fear spiked through her. “Why did you bring us here?” Fiona rounded on him.
“I told you. To meet Dougal.”
“But he is not here, is he.” Her voice trembled, her heart raced as dread mounted. She called to the children to come back, reaching out again to gather them close. “I should never have trusted you.”
“Of course you can trust me,” MacIan said. “I also thought you might like to see this place because of your interest in fossils and ancient rocks. The walls are thick with ancient imprints, see.” He gestured. “Tiny shells and such, is that not so?”
She was not distracted. “Kinloch did not send you after us, did he?”
He sighed. “Miss MacCarran, I confess. I wanted you to see this cargo stored here. I thought it was important for you to know what a rogue he is. A true smuggler.”
She laughed bitterly. “Rogue and a smuggler! That is no surprise. I know what he does. I also know he cares deeply about the glen and the people here. I know he smuggles cargo to protect his tenants from poverty and unfair taxation. I also know he makes legitimate whisky. Is this legal or illicit stock?” She gestured, fingers shaking.
Even so, she glanced furtively about, wondering how she could get the children out of here quickly and safely.
MacIan was convincing, and might be telling her the truth.
But her gut sank, twisted, warning her that something was very wrong.
She should have paid attention. She should never have followed him, especially with the bairns.
“The spirits produced in his legal still are not aged enough to compete with this lot. These kegs hold nicely aged whisky. Very good and costly stuff. He will make a fortune on the shipment.”
“Where is he?” she demanded. “Why is no one here guarding this?”
“They will be here soon. Come this way.” He turned along another natural path between uneven stone walls.
Feeling truly unsettled now, Fiona gathered the children close and whispered to them to turn and run toward the outer entrance as fast as they could go.
They whirled without question to pound up the slope toward the outer cave and the glow of the twilight sky.
Spinning, she followed. But Hugh MacIan whirled, shouting, grabbing for her, taking her wrist in a tight grip. Fiona urged the children ahead, and they ran, sliding, rushing. Stumbling on the uneven path, she regained her balance.
Just then, a tall man stepped out of the shadows.
He reached out to snatch Lucy first, then Annabel, one under each arm.
As the girls flailed and screamed, Jamie ran ahead up the rough, narrow path.
Fiona lunged to help the girls, but MacIan had her by the arm, and then grabbed her by the waist, dragging her back toward him.
MacIan barked at Jamie to stop, and the boy ran on, but stumbled, rising to his feet. Fiona saw him fist his small hands and glance around, gauging his chances.
Writhing, she punched at MacIan. The tall, dark man, a lean and looming shadow, dropped Lucy and Annabel in two tumbles, snarling at them to stay. Lucy got to her feet and he pushed her down. Fiona twisted in MacIan’s hold to look up, and gasped, startled.
“Eldin! What are you doing here? Leave the children alone—”
“Get in there, all of you,” Eldin growled, pushing the girls into a small cave.
He took Fiona by the upper arm and shoved her in with them.
She saw Jamie run for the entrance, but the reverend lunged for him with long strides, snatching him up and shoving them into the crevice with Fiona and the girls.
Then Eldin moved into the shadows to pull an iron grate across the entrance, securing it.
A cage—but not intended as a jail, Fiona realized. The space was nearly full of kegs. The bars secured the cargo from thieves. But it could serve as a jail—and did now.
“Let us out!” Fiona cried, pulling on the rusted bars.
The little cave was low enough that she could not stand upright, and had to kneel.
She reached out to keep the children behind her, but Jamie and Lucy stepped forward, pulling on the bars beside her.
Annabel stayed behind, whimpering. “They are only children—you must let them go. I will stay. What do you want?”
“You are insurance, Cousin Fiona,” Eldin growled.
“Aye? Insurance against what?”
The newcomer spoke casually, his deep voice echoing. Footsteps grated over stone as two men approached from the entrance slope. Golden light bloomed along the stone passage as Fiona looked up.
Dougal walked toward them, his face a fiery glow in lantern light. Behind him came Patrick holding two pistols that he aimed at Eldin and MacIan.