As the costumed gentlemen's weaponry Q and A was occurring, the center of the erstwhile dance floor was being converted into a stylized version of a kidnapper's lair, set up to Sir Sherlock's general specifications with props and "enemies" endeavoring to set the scene for Locke's rescue demonstration. The enemies were represented by a dozen or so Mu Ren Zhuang combat manikins, who would be the miscreants holding King Karlssgard captive.

Standing about in various positions in no particular pattern were twelve bad guys in nondescript livery, some holding knives in their "hands," some with swords held in a defensive posture in front of their "torsos", and a couple with bludgeons, raised overhead, waiting to pound poor Locke. All of them were on movable platforms, each controlled with ropes by a couple of sturdy footmen. The footmen who were the manikins' controllers were told to move their "men" as they saw fit, in hopes of surprising and possibly overpowering Locke. There had been no rehearsal to ensure that Locke was completely at the evil whims of the kidnappers.

In the center of the converted space a banquet table faced lengthwise toward the king's "throne." There were a couple of small tables on the edges of the staged "room": one about one third of the way down on the right, holding a deep bowl of fruit; and one about two thirds of the way down on the left, displaying a vase of long-stemmed roses.

The King's Herald blew a short blast on his trumpet and announced in a loud voice, "Your Majesty's, Your Highnesses, Ladies and Gentlemen, please gather amidships around the stage to view a weapons demonstration by Sir Sherlock Holmes of Watson's Hold. The presentation will commence as soon as the participants are in place."

At that moment, two masked footmen approached the gentlemen that Locke was regaling with a couple of small misadventures. The kidnappers grabbed and manhandled His Majesty, dragging him as he struggled ineffectually, to the front of the stage, where he was deposited onto his "throne." After tying Karlssgard's hands in front of him and his feet each to one leg of the chair, the two footmen stepped behind the throne, disappearing momentarily, to immediately reappear, having become two Wing Chun Manikins, standing at attention behind and on either side of the captive king. They brandished dangerously sharp short swords menacingly at His Majesty.

When things were set up as Locke had requested, he appeared at the foot of the room, in full costumed regalia, legs spread apart, arms akimbo. Surveying his opponents' positions and weaponry with intense concentration, he also made note of where certain audience members were and how close they would be to the action. ("...I certainly do not want any collateral damage," he mused with a self-satisfied smile ...) Pleased at the happenstance, he also noticed that most of the crew and the servants had gathered behind the royal guests, allowed to forgo their jobs to enjoy this one part of the evening.

Locke glanced at the throne and bowed his head to the king. King Karlssgard had expected a scenario something like this, but was in the dark on details as much as anyone else. He squirmed in his seat excitedly, "frightened" for his life. He sent a lop-sided smile in Locke's direction, like everyone on board, he was anticipating the action, waiting for the mayhem to begin. He raised his hands in pleading supplication to Locke, with his brow creased in not-too-feigned fear. 

Adrian handed Locke his Guardian-issued saber. Locke latched it to his right hip, leaving his right hand free to grasp his Katana and allowing his left hand to draw the sword from his hip, if both were possibly needed at the same time. Locke had forgone wearing his own sword, worried that while dancing, he might create a wardrobe malfunction, if not for himself, for his partner or some other unfortunate dancer on the floor.

Standing next to Locke on his left were his two pirate crewmen. With a flourish, he dragged his plumed hat from his head, tossed it to the peg-legged brother, and asked him to "Take care of this for me."

"Aye, aye, sir." The pretend pirates grinned foolishly at Locke, who returned their salutes with military precision.

The orchestra began a soft drum roll, the conductor hoping to accent some of Locke's moves with timpani drums or trumpet blares. Turning back to his "stage", Locke pulled Prince John's short sword, twisted it around to cause soft twinkling of its jewels and tossed it to his other hand while drawing one of the four-barreled pistols. Taking one long stride, the silver buckles on his highly-polished boots sparkling in the candlelight, he lopped off the first guy's hand in which it had held a long knife. The hand and the knife clattered noisily to the floor.

Locke fired the pistol at the sixth and eighth villains, who had both been moving forward toward Locke's position, hitting them both between their respective eyes. He took out numbers two and three, both of whom had been holding swords, by spinning and with his short sword, removing the arms holding the blades, his brightly-colored coat flaring our behind him as he spun. Kicking out to the sides with booted feet, miscreants two and three landing on their backs on the deck, Locke finished them off with the two balls he had left in his handgun.

Spying Adrian on his right, he spun to face him and using the tip of the prince's sword, flipped a ripe red apple to him, followed by a juicy orange, sailing over Adrian's head to a steward in the rear. While still turning, he threw his prince's sword to eliminate number seven, nearly sending the blade completely through its chest. He dropped the spent pistol onto the floor, both hands now empty.

Having reached the table, he rolled forward on one shoulder onto the tabletop coming up on one knee. Drawing another pistol, he fired three consecutive shots, removing threat four, who was approaching him from behind brandishing a bludgeon, and by firing over his shoulder, he also dispatched nine and ten who had approached from the side, planning to trap him in between their swinging swords.

Jumping back to his upright, alert stance and spinning on his heel, he unsheathed his Katana from his back, leaned toward the small decorative table on his left, and spearing the long stem just below the blossom, flipped a rose from the vase to Princess Mary who stood just behind the table. She caught it, buried her nose in its fragrant petals, and blushed furiously at Locke's sensuous smile. Facing the princess still, and away from their stealthy approach, he cut eleven and twelve in twain, their upper torsos and weapons dropping to the floor.

Clutching both of his throwing knives in his free hand, Locke threw the perfectly-balanced blades overhand directly at the king, (...who flinched in unfeigned terror...) and left them, one each vibrating in the king's "guards'" heads, having pierced the "guards" wooden brows.

Drawing Adrian's parade-dressed saber, his hands moving so swiftly that his beringed fingers left glowing arcs, with a single sweep of that sword in one hand and his Katana in the other, Locke sliced through the king's bonds, freeing his royal hands and feet, and ending Locke's rescue run with Locke on bended knee, head bowed, arms straight, holding shimmering blades pointing right and left, at the foot of the king's throne.

There was half of a moment of stunned silence, and then thunderous applause broke out. Whistles and hoots sounded from the rowdier of the bunch. His pirate crew and a couple other younger gentlemen hurried up and pounded him on the back before returning to their places on the edge of the crowd.

Replacing his sword and Katana in their sheaths, Locke stood, faced his audience with a shy smile and bowed deeply at the waist. Turning twice, he bowed again to his left and to his right. After a moment, he turned back to face the king and again took a knee. King Karlssgard had stood and added his own applause to the enthusiastic crowd's accolades.

In a voice meant for Locke's ears only, His Majesty intoned, "Marvelous, my boy. Absolutely marvelous!" Raising his voice to address the room at large. "My Friends and Countrymen, there cannot be praise too strongly worded to describe the amazing strength, courage, and resourcefulness of this knight's skill. As you will acknowledge as being somewhat unusual, I am speechless." The crowd tittered courteously. The king continued, "Sir Sherlock, you truly deserve Our greatest admiration. I would like to speak with you later regarding training some of my troops."

Locke bowed his head and graciously murmured, "It would be my honor, Your Majesty." After a few more whispered words with the king, Locke was dismissed and allowed to mingle with the hoi-polloi. His two pirate buddies, his Guardian Adrian, and the Princess Mary squirmed their ways through the pressing bodies and managed to reach Locke's side.

Adrian was smiling like a proud papa, shaking Locke's hand, and giving him a "masculine" hug. Still clutching the long-stemmed rose, Princess Mary gazed into his eyes, and gushed, "Oh, Sir Sherlock, that... That was so... so ...wonderful. You are wonderful..." Her cheeks had heated to a furious red. Bringing the flower to her lips, she glanced at Adrian and lowered her eyes. Peeping through her lashes, she saw Adrian grinning at her, who reached over and took her hand and pulled her a little closer to his side.

The pirate crew just stood, staring in obvious hero-worship. The younger brother fluffed the feathers and brushed the brim, carefully presenting to Locke his hat. Locke slapped it onto his head, his perfect self consciously noting that he may be mussing his hair. "Thanks, gentlemen. I knew I could count on you to take care of it for me."

Releasing a shuddering breath, Locke caught Adrian's eye. "I need some air. Please come with me." Adrian knew from Locke's tone that this was not a command, but a fervent wish to escape the crowd. He cocked his head at Mary. Locke nodded and started toward the broad staircase. Adrian tucked Mary's hand into his elbow and took off after Locke, heading to the upper deck into the cool night air.

Following Locke as he approached the railing, Adrian with Mary's hand still on his arm, examined the few other occupants of the deck. There were a pair of courting couples strolling aft, a young man walking a big dog while ruffling the beast's shaggy ears, and a small group of young people talking excitedly and pointing at the stars.

He dismissed them all as no threats, until he noticed a black-clad man pacing a couple steps back and forth at the prow. Drawing not only Adrian's but Locke's and Mary's attention, as well, the guy looked up, spotted his audience, pushed a keg of something over onto its side, ran a few steps, and dove overboard into the swirling water trailing the ship in shimmering arcs.

The three observers all leaned out over the railing to see if they could spot the man in the dark swirling water. There was no sign of him. Locke and Adrian exchanged a glance over Mary's head, and hurriedly, Locke strode to the closed door leading to the staircase landing. Adrian had dropped Mary's hand and ran toward the fore deck.

As Locke's hand clasped the door handle, a deafening roar sounded below decks, violently raising the whole top of the ship into the air, toppling Mary and a few of the other deck strollers overboard. The door blew off its hinges and flew up and out into the night air carrying with it hundreds of pieces of debris and Sherlock. Adrian turned in time to see Locke doubled over the top of the door, arms and legs flailing, being propelled far away from the ship and down into the frigid lake waters.