Page 28 of Highland Flame

“We’re used to the elements. Besides, no’ much bathin’ happens in winter.”

“Well, in the priory, cleanliness is required. Please don’t even think of bathing in our fish ponds.” The monk seemed insulted by Cam’s answer.

“Nay, I wouldna think of it. I guess we’ll have to set up a time. To bathe, I mean.” First, no meat, and now required bathing. Cam hoped to hell he and his friends weren’t going to be required to do all the praying that the monk mentioned as well. If so, he was sure to die. Right now, all he wanted was to be in a tavern like the Horn and Hoof back in Glasgow with a tankard of Mountain Magic in one hand and a wench in the other.

They left the room and headed over to the scriptorium next. “There are monks illuminating manuscripts inside right now. We don’t want to disturb them, so you’ll see the scriptorium later,” said Gillies.

“Of course,” said Cam, having no desire to see a dark room where they copied books anyway. “What is under the dormitories?” he asked. There were lots of passageways and staircases everywhere.

“That is the undercroft where the food is stored. The buttery is down there as well.”

The buttery was where they kept drinks and vats of wine.

“Ye dinna happen to have any Mountain Magic on hand, do ye?” he asked, longing for a dram of whisky.

“Mountain Magic?”

“Whisky,” he said, seeing that the man didn’t understand. “It’s the most potent whisky in all of Scotland and England, brewed by the grandfather of our chieftain, Storm MacKeefe.”

“Oh, nay. We only have ale, mead, and wine,” explained the monk. “When the apples are ripe, we also have cider.”

“Why did I already ken that somehow?” Cam mumbled.

“Were you serious about wanting to sleep in the catacombs?” asked Gillies.

Cam laughed, but stopped when he realized the man wasn’t jesting. “Why would I want to sleep with the dead, in a dark and dreary place like that?”

“Oh, nay. It’s not like that at all,” answered the monk. “I mean, if you were to use Lord Rook’s old chamber which is down there, it wouldn’t be. You and your friends are welcome to it.”

“Chamber? Lord Rook actually built a room in the catacombs?”

“Aye, he did. And a magnificent place it is.”

“Really,” he said, not believing a word of this. “Then why dinna ye or the other monks use it, if it is so guid?”

“We can’t. It is far too elaborate for us. We have taken the vow of poverty, and so the room has been vacant for years now.”

“Elaborate?” This got Cam’s interest and he had to see it now. He spied North and Nash coming out of the orchard, each carrying two bushels of apples.

“Where do ye want these?” North asked, looking tired, hot and sweaty.

“The fruit will go in the undercroft,” said the monk. “You can leave it in the cloisters and the lay brothers will take it down a little later.”

“Blethers, it is hot out here.” Nash put down the bushels and wiped his brow with the end of his sash of purple and green – Clan MacKeefe’s colors.

“It’s cool down in Lord Rook’s room,” said Gillies.

“I suppose it would be, since it is underground,” Cam answered. “Can my friends take a look at the room in the catacombs with me?”

“Of course. This way, please.” The monk led the way.

“Our room is in the catacombs?” snapped Nash as soon as the monk walked away.

“Bid the devil, please tell me ye are jestin’,” snorted North, wiping his brow with the back of his hand.

“It’s either that, or we sleep in the stables or infirmary,” said Cam.

“Anywhere is better than with the dead.” North didn’t like the idea at all.

“Come on. I’m curious to see this so-called elaborate room where Lord Rook lived for a guid part of his life.” Cam led the way, and his friends followed. Even with the monk’s description, Cam never expected what they were about to see.