Above, the face of Wolfy’s father appeared and he hissed, "What's the delay?"
"She's afraid," Flanders called up.
A long moment later, a rope snaked down into the hole with a large loop tied at the end. Flanders caught it and turned to Gerts. "Up with yer arms, then."
With quaking hands, she did as she was told. He looped the rope around her middle and tied it securely. "Now, hold tight. They'll pull ye up."
She gripped just above her head, her eyes still pleading. "I'll fall."
"Ye won't. The rope will hold. And they will not let go."
With a nod to the men above, Flanders watched as they began to haul Gerts upward. She let out a squeak of terror as her feet left the ground, her body swinging wildly as she tried to find purchase against the pole.
"Stop kicking," Flanders hissed. "Just hang still."
But Gerts couldn't help herself. Her feet danced a frantic jig in midair, sometimes connecting with the pole, sometimes missing entirely as her body rolled back and forth against the wall. Each impact sent her in a new direction, at times, her body twirled like a leaf on a string.
"Sweet Odin's beard," she gasped, her voice a strangled whisper. "I shall surely die!”
"Ye're ten feet off the ground," Flanders countered. "Hardly in danger."
Her legs continued their mad dance, and she let out another squeak as she spun again.
"Up is all that matters, woman. Ye’re doin’…fine.” He tried very hard not to laugh, but it wasn’t easy, despite their dire situation. He wondered if she’d ever get her wide eyes shut again.
Brigid pressed a hand to her mouth, stifling her own mirth.
Finally, Gerts reached the top, where strong hands grabbed her arms and hauled her out of sight.
"Yer turn," Flanders said.
Brigid approached the pole, but he caught her arm and pulled her back to him. "Be careful," he said, suddenly terrified to let her go. Then he kissed her, hard and sure. If it was his only chance, he wanted her to remember it.
Her response was just as fierce. Then she pulled back and sought his eyes. "Let’s get out of this hole, aye? Then I’ll thank ye to do that again."
His heart hammered against his ribs as she began to climb. Each movement she made drove him mad. She moved too slowly. She moved too fast.
She would fall!
She would get caught!
Something would happen and he’d be the only one left behind. This was all just too good to be believed. Surely, Heslington was waiting at the top, toying with his hopes, poised to dash them to bits.
Odin save him, he would lose his mind before the night was over.
Brigid reached the top and hands reached for her. Then she was gone and all was silent. Too silent. Deathly silent.
Wolfy’s father looked for him, then waved impatiently.
Flanders retreated, got a running start, and hurried up the pole barely touching it with his hands. He vaulted over the top and landed with his feet apart, prepared for an attack. But it wasn’t Heslington waiting for him….
14
THE LOVE OF GOOD MEN
* * *
"Easy,” Robert whispered, then extended a hand. “Ye’re the last?”
