A Fire Within (These Highland Hills, Book 3) by Kathleen Morgan Page A

calculated desecration had not only added
further insult to an already broken people, but also struck at
the very heart of the last comfort and strength they could call
upon-the Lord God Himself. For without hope in God, no men, including the MacNaghtens, had anything left to keep them
going, keep them fighting on when all seemed lost.

    Not that he mourned that loss for himself, Dar thought as he
neared the barred, iron-grated door that separated what looked
to be the dungeon's guardroom from the main corridor. He had
given up on a just, merciful, and loving God years ago.
    Nonetheless, he mourned that loss of hope for his people.
Many of them, even to this day, clung to their religious faith like
those drowning might cling to a passing bit of flotsam. And, as
flawed and ineffectual as he himself might view those beliefs,
Dar didn't have the heart to take that away.
    The rise and fall of voices coming from beyond the iron door
drew him up short. Dar slipped into the shadows beyond the last
torch and listened. There were two men in the guardroom, wide
awake and, by the sounds, playing a game of dice.
    He edged closer until he reached the wall at the end of the corridor and moved until he was to the very frame of the iron door.
On close inspection, Dar noted a thick iron padlock hanging from
a stout hasp and staple, locked from the inside. Not only was the
dungeon well guarded, but it was also very well secured.
    Examining the door, Dar found the hinges were fastened by
huge bolts driven into solid rock. A quick glance around the
frame into the guardroom revealed, besides several doors that
likely led into small prison chambers, a pit cell carved deep into
the earth and equally protected with a padlocked iron grate. This
was most certainly where Athe was being held.
    Dar choked back a savage curse. His only hope of freeing Athe
had been to threaten the guards with his dagg, but the short,
heavy, wheel-lock pistol held only one shot. Even if he could
take down one guard if he refused immediately to surrender the
keys, the second guard could ring the bell Dar had seen hanging in the corner, calling for help long before Dar could reload
again. And with the alarm sounded, it would be impossible to pry loose the door from its hinges before help came. If it were
even possible at all.

    Few castle dungeons were as impregnable as Kilchurn's apparently was. He had counted on a much simpler task than this one
presented. Short of using gunpowder to blast down the guardroom door, Dar couldn't think of any quick way to get in and
free his brother.
    Smuggling in the necessary amount of gunpowder to do the
job through Kilchurn's keep undetected, however, would be next
to impossible. Indeed, it would be impossible.
    With heavy heart, Dar crept back the way he had come. When
he reached the stairs leading to the upper level, he took a seat on
one of the lower steps. His mind raced, trying to make sense of
all he had observed, picking through every detail to find a flaw
that might yet yield a viable plan for rescuing Athe.
    If his brother had been imprisoned in some above-ground cell,
even perhaps in a freestanding guardhouse, there might have been
a chance. Perhaps then there might have been a way to smuggle
enough gunpowder in to blow down the cell door or even the
outside wall. But it was impossible, leastwise in the short period
of time in which they could continue to make their excuses to
remain in Kilchurn under Campbell hospitality.
    Drugging the guards' food would only leave them unconscious
inside the guardroom and of absolutely no use. Getting his hands
on the keys long enough to make a copy also seemed futile. To
do so, he would have to learn the guards' routines. And that
necessitated asking too many questions that might easily arouse
suspicions.
    His plan to woo Caitlin, then ply her for information, had
flown out the window the moment he learned her true identity.
Indeed, if the truth