And never did such gallant steeds
Drink of an earthly stream.’”
Arissa and Regine clapped loudly, as did Penelope and Emma far down the table. The older ladies seemed to be indecisive, while the men appeared to be plain embarrassed.
William, his face resting in his hand, peered at his son from between splayed fingers. “Are you finished?”
“Nay,” Bartholomew suddenly reached for a strip of rope that held one of the massive chandeliers in place. Gripping the rope, he suddenly swung out over the room to a chorus of shrieks.
“‘Back comes the chief in triumph
Who in the hour of fight….’”
Richmond was on his feet, leaping over the table with incredible agility for a man of his massive size. Arissa felt him move past her, startled as his thick arm inadvertently grazed her tender shoulder.
“Slowly, lad, slowly,” he cautioned Bartholomew. “Do not attempt to slide. Hand over hand.”
Bartholomew gazed down at Richmond as the rope spun him in circles. “I know how to descend a rope. Return to your seat so that I might finish your tribute.”
“I have heard enough tribute. Come down from there before you lose your grip and plunge to your death.”
“‘Hath seen the great Twin Brethren
In harness on his right.
Safe comes the ship to haven….’”
“Bartholomew, come down from there!” William boomed. “I shall have Richmond cut the rope if you are not to the floor by the time I count to five!”
Bartholomew glanced at his father. “I shall come down when I am finished. Can you not see that I am a sailor descending from the sails of my battleship? Listen to the rest of the prose.”
“Only a moment ago you were praising a knight in armor,” William held out his hands, completely frustrated. “Where in the hell did the sailor come from? Richmond has no interest in your inane sailor’s prose.”
Bartholomew sighed heavily; his father simply did not understand. “The sailor is a battle weary warrior returning home from the skirmish at Lake Regillus. If you knew anything at all about Roman history, you would know that Roman sailors were knights without horses.”
“I shall not argue the point,” William was mightily flushed, becoming more agitated by the minute. “Come down from there before I have you removed.”
Bartholomew was not deterred in the least. The rope, however, was working against him; the knot that held the chandelier so steadily was not designed to carry stress on thefree end. As Bartholomew opened his mouth to finish his victory recitation, the knot suddenly slipped.
He plummeted several feet but maintained his grip. The rope continued to hold but was slipping steadily, bit by bit, lured on by Bartholomew’s considerable weight. The entire room was in a panic.
Richmond was directly below the young man; any attempt to descend the rope would most likely cause it to slip further, thereby dropping him the remaining twelve feet to the stone floor below. His mind working with lightning speed, he whirled to Carlton and Daniel.
“The tapestry above the earl’s chair!” he commanded. “Rip it down!”
Daniel bound over the table, leaping into the air and grasping the large tapestry that was nicely displayed high on the wall. The tapestry tore, shifted, and finally pulled free as Daniel rode it six or so feet to the ground. With Carlton’s help, they managed to yank from its remaining restraints.
Richmond took a corner of the fabric as Carlton and Daniel positioned themselves strategically. When their grips were sure, they placed themselves directly beneath Bartholomew.
“Everyone clear away from the table!” Richmond shouted; the chandelier was sure to come crashing down the moment Bartholomew released his hold. “Out of the room. Now!”
Richmond le Bec’s orders were not meant to be delayed, refused, or questioned. Without hesitation, the entire dining table cleared and the occupants scampered from the room.
Except for Arissa. She was terrified that her brother was going to plummet to his death and, worse, Richmond would most likely be crushed beneath him. Pressed against the wall as far as she could go, she watched in wide-eyed horror.
Richmond did not see her; he was singularly focused on the young man clinging to the rope above his head.
“Jump, Bart,” he encouraged. “We shall catch you!”
