THEPRINCESSBRIDE

S.Morgenstern’sClassicTaleofTrueLoveandHighAdventure

The ‘good parts’ versionabridgedby

WILLIAMGOLDMAN

CONTENTS

One-THEBRIDE

Two-THEGROOM

Three-THECOURTSHIP

Four-THEPREPARATIONS

Five-THEANNOUNCEMENT

Six-THEFESTIVITIES

Seven-THEWEDDING

Eight-HONEYMOON

ForHiramHaydn

THEPRINCESSBRIDE

Thisismyfavoritebookinalltheworld,thoughIhaveneverreadit.

Howissuchathingpossible?I’lldomybesttoexplain.Asachild,Ihadsimplynointerestinbooks.Ihatedreading,Iwasverybadatit,

andbesides,howcouldyoutakethetimetoreadwhenthereweregamesthatshriekedforplaying?Basketball,baseball,marbles—Icouldnevergetenough.Iwasn’tevengoodatthem,butgivemeafootballandanemptyplaygroundandIcouldinventlast-secondtriumphsthatwouldbringtearstoyoureyes.Schoolwastorture.MissRoginski,whowasmyteacherforthethirdthrough

fifthgrades,wouldhavemeetingaftermeetingwithmymother.“Idon’tfeelBillyisperhapsextendinghimselfquiteasmuchashemight.”Or,“Whenwetesthim,Billydoesreallyexceptionallywell,consideringhisclassstanding.”Or,mostoften,“Idon’tknow,Mrs.Goldman;whatarewegoingtodoaboutBilly?”

Whatarewegoingtodo

aboutBilly?Thatwasthephrasethathauntedmethosefirsttenyears.Ipretendednottocare,butsecretlyIwaspetrified.Everyoneandeverythingwaspassingmeby.Ihadnorealfriends,nosinglepersonwhosharedanequalinterestinallgames.Iseemedbusy,busy,busy,butIsuppose,ifpressed,Imighthaveadmittedthat,forallmyfrenzy,Iwasverymuchalone.

“Whatarewegoingtodoaboutyou,Billy?”

“Idon’tknow,MissRoginski.”

“Howcouldyouhavefailedthisreadingtest?I’veheardyouuseeverywordwithmyownears.”

“I’msorry,MissRoginski.Imustnothavebeenthinking.”

“You’realwaysthinking,Billy.Youjustweren’tthinkingaboutthereadingtest.”

Icouldonlynod.

“Whatwasitthistime?”

“Idon’tknow.Ican’tremember.”

“WasitStanleyHackagain?”(StanHackwastheCubs’

thirdbasemanfortheseandmanyotheryears.Isawhimplayoncefromableacherseat,andevenatthatdistancehehadthesweetestsmileIhadeverseenandtothisdayIswearhesmiledatmeseveraltimes.Ijustworshippedhim.Hecouldalsohitaton.)

“BronkoNagurski.He’safootballplayer.Agreatfootballplayer,andthepaper

lastnightsaidhemightcomebackandplayfortheBearsagain.HeretiredwhenIwaslittlebutifhecamebackandIcouldgetsomeonetotakemetoagame,Icouldseehimplayandmaybeifwhoevertookmealsoknewhim,Icouldmeethimafterandmaybeifhewashungry,ImightlethimhaveasandwichImighthavebroughtwithme.Iwastryingtofigureoutwhatkindof

sandwichBronkoNagurskiwouldlike.”

Shejustsaggedatherdesk.“You’vegotawonderfulimagination,Billy.”

Idon’tknowwhatIsaid.Probably“thankyou”orsomething.

“Ican’tharnessit,though,”shewenton.“Whyisthat?”

“Ithinkit’sthatprobablyIneedglassesandIdon’treadbecausethewordsaresofuzzy.ThatwouldexplainwhyI’mallthetimesquinting.MaybeifIwenttoaneyedoctorwhocouldgivemeglassesI’dbethebestreaderinclassandyouwouldn’thavetokeepmeafterschoolsomuch.”

Shejustpointedbehindher.“Gettoworkcleaningthe

blackboards,Billy.”

“Yes,ma’am.”Iwasthebestatcleaningblackboards.

“Dotheylookfuzzy?”MissRoginskisaidafterawhile.

“Oh,no,Ijustmadethatup.”Ineversquintedeither.Butshejustseemedsowhippedaboutit.Shealwaysdid.Thishadbeengoingonforthreegradesnow.

“I’mjustnotgettingthroughtoyousomehow.”

“It’snotyourfault,MissRoginski.”(Itwasn’t.Ijustworshippedhertoo.ShewasalldumpyandfatbutIusedtowishshe’dbeenmymother.Icouldnevermakethatreallycomeoutright,unlessshehadbeenmarriedtomyfatherfirst,andthenthey’dgottendivorcedandmyfatherhadmarriedmy

mother,whichwasokay,becauseMissRoginskihadtowork,somyfathergotcustodyofme—thatallmadesense.Onlytheyneverseemedtoknoweachother,mydadandMissRoginski.Wheneverthey’dmeet,eachyearduringtheChristmaspageantwhenalltheparentscame,I’dwatchthetwoofthemlikecrazy,hopingforsomekindofsecretglimmerorlookthatcouldonlymean,

“Well,howareyou,how’syourlifebeengoingsinceourdivorce?”butnosoap.Shewasn’tmymother,shewasjustmyteacher,andIwasherownpersonalandgrowingdisasterarea.)

“You’regoingtobeallright,Billy.”

“Isurehopeso,MissRoginski.”

“You’realatebloomer,that’sall.WinstonChurchillwasalatebloomerandsoareyou.”

Iwasabouttoaskherwhoheplayedforbuttherewassomethinginhertonethatmademeknowenoughnotto.

“AndEinstein.”

HimIalsodidn’tknow.Orwhatalatebloomerwas

either.Butboy,didIeverwanttobeone.

WhenIwastwenty-six,myfirstnovel,TheTempleofGold,waspublishedbyAlfredA.Knopf.(WhichisnowpartofRandomHousewhichisnowpartofR.C.A.whichisjustpartofwhat’swrongwithpublishinginAmericatodaywhichisnotpartofthisstory.)Anyway,

beforepublication,thepublicitypeopleatKnopfweretalkingtome,tryingtofigurewhattheycoulddotojustifytheirsalaries,andtheyaskedwhodidIwanttosendadvancecopiestothatmightbeanopinionmaker,andIsaidIdidn’tknowanybodylikethatandtheysaid,“Think,everybodyknowssomebody,”andsoIgotallexcitedbecausetheideajustcametomeandIsaid,

“Okay,sendacopytoMissRoginski,”whichIfiguredwaslogicalandterrificbecauseifanybodymademyopinions,shedid.(She’sallthroughTempleofGold,bytheway,onlyIcalledher“MissPatulski”—eventhenIwascreative.)

“Who?”thispublicityladysaid.

“Thisoldteacherofmine,

yousendheracopyandI’llsignitandmaybewritealittle—”Iwasreallyexciteduntilthispublicityguyinterruptedwith,“Wewerethinkingofsomeonemoreonthenationalscene.”

VerysoftIsaid,“MissRoginski,youjustsendheracopy,please,okay?”

“Yes,”hesaid,“yes,byallmeans.”

YourememberhowIdidn’taskwhoChurchillplayedforbecauseofhertone?Imusthavehitthatsametonetoojustthen.Anyway,somethingmusthavehappenedbecauseherightawaywrotehernamedownaskingwasitskiorsky.

“Withthei,”Itoldhim,alreadyhikingthroughtheyears,tryingtogettheinscriptionfantasticforher.Youknow,cleverandmodest

andbrilliantandperfect,likethat.

“Firstname?”

Thatbroughtmebackfast.Ididn’tknowherfirstname.“Miss”wasallIevercalledher.Ididn’tknowheraddresseither.Ididn’tevenknowifshewasaliveornot.Ihadn’tbeenbacktoChicagointenyears;Iwasanonlychild,bothfolksgone,whoneeded

Chicago?

“SendittoHighlandParkGrammarSchool,”Isaid,andfirstwhatIthoughtI’dwritewas“ForMissRoginski,arosefromyourlatebloomer,”butthenIthoughtthatwastooconceited,soIdecided“ForMissRoginski,aweedfromyourlatebloomer”wouldbemorehumble.Toohumble,Idecidednext,andthatwasitforbrightideas

thatday.Icouldn’tthinkofanything.ThenIthought,Whatifshedoesn’tevenrememberme?Hundredsofstudentsovertheyears,whyshouldshe?SofinallyindesperationIput,“ForMissRoginskifromWilliamGoldman—BillyyoucalledmeandyousaidIwouldbealatebloomerandthisbookisforyouandIhopeyoulikeit.Iwasinyourclassforthird,fourthandfifthgrades,thank

youverymuch.WilliamGoldman.”

Thebookcameoutandgotbombed;Istayedinanddidthesame,adjusting.NotonlydiditnotestablishmeasthefreshestthingsinceKitMarlowe,italsodidn’tgetreadbyanybody.Nottrue.Itgotreadbyanynumberofpeople,allofwhomIknew.Ithinkitissafetosay,however,nostrangers

savoredit.ItwasagrindingexperienceandIreactedasindicatedabove.SowhenMissRoginski’snotecame—late—itgotsenttoKnopfandtheytooktheirtimerelayingit—Iwasreallyreadyforalift.

“DearMr.Goldman:Thankyouforthebook.Ihavenothadtimeyettoreadit,butIamsureitisafineendeavor.Iofcourserememberyou.I

rememberallmystudents.Yourssincerely,AntoniaRoginski.”

Whatacrusher.Shedidn’tremembermeatall.Isatthereholdingthenote,rocked.Peopledon’trememberme.Really.It’snotanyparanoidthing;Ijusthavethishabitofslippingthroughmemories.Itdoesn’tbothermeallthatmuch,exceptIguessthat’salie;it

does.Forsomereason,Itestveryhighonforgettability.

SowhenMissRoginskisentmethatnotemakingherjustlikeeveryoneelse,Iwasgladshe’dnevergottenmarried,I’dneverlikedheranyway,she’dalwaysbeenarottenteacher,anditservedherrightherfirstnamewasAntonia.

“Ididn’tmeanit,”Isaidout

loudrightthen.Iwasaloneinmyone-roomjobonManhattan’sglamorousWestSideandtalkingtomyself.“I’msorry,I’msorry,”Iwenton.“Yougottobelievethat,MissRoginski”

Whathadhappened,ofcourse,wasthatI’dfinallyseenthepostscript.Itwasonthebackofthethank-younoteandwhatitsaidwas,“Idiot.Noteventheimmortal

S.MorgensterncouldfeelmoreparentalthanI.”

S.Morgenstern!ThePrincessBride.Sheremembered!

Flashback.

1941.Autumn.I’malittlecrankybecausemyradiowon’tgetthefootballgames.NorthwesternisplayingNotreDame,itstartsatone,andbyone-thirtyIcan’tget

thegame.Music,news,soapoperas,everything,butnotthebiggie.Icallformymother.Shecomes.Itellhermyradio’sbusted,Ican’tfindNorthwestern-NotreDame.Shesays,youmeanthefootball?Yesyesyes,Isay.It’sFriday,shesays;IthoughttheyplayedonSaturday.

AmIanidiot!

Ilieback,listeningtothesoaps,andafteralittleItryfindingitagain,andmystupidradiowillpickupeveryChicagostationexcepttheonecarryingthefootballgame.Ireallyhollernow,andagainmymothertearsin.I’mgonnaheavethisradiorightoutthewindow,Isay;itwon’tgetit,itwon’tgetit,Icannotmakeitgetit.Getwhat?shesays.Thefootballgame,Isay;howdumbare

you,thegaaaaame.Saturday,andwatchyourtongue,youngman,shesays—Ialreadytoldyou,it’sFriday.Shegoesagain.

Wasthereeversoampleadunce?

Humiliated,IflickaroundonmytrustyZenith,tryingtofindthefootballgame.ItwassofrustratingIwaslyingtheresweatingandmy

stomachfeltcrazyandIwaspoundingthetopoftheradiotomakeitworkrightandthatwashowtheydiscoveredIwasdeliriouswithpneumonia.

Pneumoniatodayisnotwhatitoncewas,especiallywhenIhadit.Tendaysorsointhehospitalandthenhomeforthelongrecuperatingperiod.Iguessitwasthreemoreweeksinbed,amonth

maybe.Noenergy,nogameseven.Ijustwasthislumpgoingthroughastrength-gatheringtime,period.

WhichishowyouhavetothinkofmewhenIcameuponThePrincessBride.

Itwasmyfirstnighthome.Drained;stillonesickcookie.Myfathercamein,Ithoughttosaygoodnight.Hesatontheendofmybed.“Chapter

One.TheBride,”hesaid.

ItwasthenonlyIkindoflookedupandsawhewasholdingabook.Thatalonewassurprising.Myfatherwasnexttoilliterate.InEnglish.HecamefromFlorin(thesettingofThePrincessBride)andtherehehadbeennofool.Hesaidoncehewouldhaveendedupalawyer,andmaybeso.Thefactsarewhenhewassixteenhegotashot

atcomingtoAmerica,gambledonthelandofopportunityandlost.Therewasnevermuchhereforhim.Hewasnotattractivetolookupon,veryshortandfromanearlyagebald,andhewasponderousatlearning.Oncehegotafact,itstayed,butthehoursittooktopassintohiscraniumwerenottobebelieved.HisEnglishalwaysstayedridiculouslyimmigranty,andthatdidn’t

helphimeither.Hemetmymotherontheboatover,gotmarriedlaterand,whenhethoughttheycouldaffordit,hadme.Heworkedforeverasthenumber-twochairintheleastsuccessfulbarbershopinHighlandPark,Illinois.Towardtheend,heusedtodozealldayinhischair.Hewentthatway.Hewasgoneanhourbeforethenumber-oneguyrealizedit;untilthenhejustthoughtmyfatherwas

havingagooddoze.Maybehewas.Maybethat’sallanyofthisis.WhentheytoldmeIwasterriblyupset,butIthoughtatthesametimeitwasanalmostExistence-Provingwayforhimtogo.

Anyway,Isaid,“Huh?What?Ididn’thear.”Iwassoweak,soterriblytired.

“ChapterOne.TheBride.”Heheldupthebookthen.

“I’mreadingittoyouforrelax.”Hepracticallyshovedthebookinmyface.“ByS.Morgenstern.GreatFlorinesewriter.ThePrincessBride.HetoocametoAmerica.S.Morgenstern.DeadnowinNewYork.TheEnglishishisown.Hespokeeighttongues.”Heremyfatherputdownthebookandheldupallhisfingers.”Eight.Once,inFlorinCity,Iwasinhiscafe.”Heshookhishead

now;hewasalwaysdoingthat,myfather,shakinghisheadwhenhe’dsaiditwrong.“Nothiscafe.Hewasinit,metoo,thesametime.Isawhim.S.Morgenstern.Hehadheadlikethis,thatbig,”andheshapedhishandslikeabigballoon.“GreatmaninFlorinCity.NotsomuchinAmerica.”

“Hasitgotanysportsinit?”

“Fencing.Fighting.Torture.Poison.Truelove.Hate.Revenge.Giants.Hunters.Badmen.Goodmen.Beautifulestladies.Snakes.Spiders.Beastsofallnaturesanddescriptions.Pain.Death.Bravemen.Cowardmen.Strongestmen.Chases.Escapes.Lies.Truths.Passion.Miracles.”

“Soundsokay,”Isaid,andIkindofclosedmyeyes.“I’ll

domybesttostayawake...butI’mawfulsleepy,Daddy....”

Whocanknowwhenhisworldisgoingtochange?Whocantellbeforeithappens,thateverypriorexperience,alltheyears,wereapreparationfor...nothing.Picturethisnow:anall-but-illiterateoldmanstrugglingwithanenemytongue,anall-but-exhaustedyoungboy

fightingagainstsleep.Andnothingbetweenthembutthewordsofanotheralien,painfullytranslatedfromnativesoundstoforeign.Whocouldsuspectthatinthemorningadifferentchildwouldwake?Iremember,formyself,onlytryingtobeatbackfatigue.EvenaweeklaterIwasnotawareofwhathadbegunthatnight,thedoorsthatwereslammingshutwhileothersslidintothe

clear.PerhapsIshouldhaveatleastknownsomething,butmaybenot;whocansenserevelationinthewind?

Whathappenedwasjustthis:Igothookedonthestory.

Forthefirsttimeinmylife,Ibecameactivelyinterestedinabook.Methesportsfanatic,methegamefreak,metheonlyten-year-oldinIllinoiswithahateonforthe

alphabetwantedtoknowwhathappenednext.

WhatbecameofbeautifulButtercupandpoorWestleyandInigo,thegreatestswordsmaninthehistoryoftheworld?AndhowreallystrongwasFezzikandweretherelimitstothecrueltyofVizzini,thedevilSicilian?

Eachnightmyfatherreadtome,chapterbychapter,

alwaysfightingtosoundthewordsproperly,tonaildownthesense.AndIlaythere,eyeskindofclosed,mybodyslowlybeginningthelongflowbacktostrength.Ittook,asIsaid,probablyamonth,andinthattimehereadThePrincessBridetwicetome.EvenwhenIwasabletoreadmyself,thisbookremainedhis.Iwouldneverhavedreamedofopeningit.Iwantedhisvoice,hissounds.

Later,yearslatereven,sometimesImightsay,“HowabouttheduelonthecliffwithInigoandthemaninblack?”andmyfatherwouldgruffandgrumbleandgetthebookandlickhisthumb,turningpagestillthemightybattlebegan.Ilovedthat.Eventoday,that’showIsummonbackmyfatherwhentheneedarises.Slumpedandsquintingandhaltingoverwords,givingme

Morgenstern’smasterpieceasbesthecould.ThePrincessBridebelongedtomyfather.

Everythingelsewasmine.

Therewasn’tanadventurestoryanywherethatwassafefromme.“Comeon,”IwouldsaytoMissRoginskiwhenIwaswellagain.“Stevenson,youkeepsayingStevenson,I’vefinishedStevenson,whonow?”andshewouldsay,

“Well,tryScott,seehowyoulikehim,“soIfriedoldSirWalterandIlikedhimwellenoughtobuttthroughahalf-dozenbooksinDecember(alotofthatwasChristmasvacationwhenIdidn’thavetointerruptmyreadingforanythingbutnowandthenalittlefood).“Whoelse,whoelse?”“Coopermaybe,”she’dsay,sooffIwentintoTheDeerslayerandalltheLeatherstockingstuff,and

thenonmyownonedayIstumbledontoDumasandD’ArtagnanandthatgotmethroughmostofFebruary,thoseguys.“Youhavebecome,beforemyveryeyes,anovel-holic,”MissRoginskisaid.“Doyourealizeyouarespendingmoretimenowreadingthanyouusedtospendongames?Doyouknowthatyourarithmeticgradesareactuallygettingworse?”Inevermindedwhen

sheknockedme.Wewerealoneintheschoolroom,andIwasafterherforsomebodygoodtodevour.Sheshookherhead.“You’recertainlyblooming,Billy.Beforemyveryeyes.Ijustdon’tknowintowhat.”

Ijuststoodthereandwaitedforhertotellmetoreadsomebody.

“You’reimpossible,standing

therewaiting.”Shethoughtasecond.“Allright.TryHugo.TheHunchbackofNotreDame.”

“Hugo,”Isaid.”Hunchback.Thankyou,”andIturned,readytobeginmysprinttothelibrary.IheardherwordssighedbehindmeasImoved.

“Thiscan’tlast.Itjustcan’tlast.”

Butitdid.

Andithas.Iamasdevotedtoadventurenowasthen,andthat’snevergoingtostop.ThatfirstbookofmineImentioned,TheTempleofGold—doyouknowwherethetitlecomesfrom?FromthemovieGungaDin,whichI’veseensixteentimesandIstillthinkisthegreatestadventuremovieevereverevermade.(Truestory

aboutGungaDin:whenIgotdischargedfromtheArmy,ImadeavownevertogobackonanArmypost.Nobigdeal,justasimplelifelongvow.Okay,nowI’mhomethedayafterIgetoutandI’vegotabuddyatFortSheridannearbyandIcalltocheckinandhesays,“Hey,guesswhat’sonposttonight?GungaDin.”“We’llgo,”Isaid.“It’stricky,”hesaid;“you’reacivilian.”Upshot:I

gotbackintouniformthefirstnightIwasoutandsnuckontoanArmyposttoseethatmovie.Snuckback.Athiefinthenight.Heartpounding,thesweats,everything.)I’maddictedtoaction/adventure/call-it-what-you-will,inanyway,shape,etc.InevermissedanAlanLaddpicture,anErrolFlynnpicture.Istilldon’tmissJohnWaynepictures.

MywholelifereallybeganwithmyfatherreadingmetheMorgensternwhenIwasten.Fact:ButchCassidyandtheSundanceKidis,noquestion,themostpopularthingI’veeverbeenconnectedwith.WhenIdie,iftheTimesgivesmeanobit,it’sgoingtobebecauseofButch.Okay,nowwhat’sthesceneeverybodytalksabout,thesinglemomentthatstaysfreshforyouandmeandthemasses?

Answer:thejumpoffthecliff.Well,whenIwrotethat,Irememberthinkingthatthosecliffstheywerejumpingoff,thoseweretheCliffsofInsanitythateverybodytriestoclimbinThePrincessBride.Inmymind,whenIwroteButch,Iwasthinkingbackfurtherintomymind,rememberingmyfatherreadingtheropeclimbuptheCliffsofInsanityandthedeaththatwaslurking

rightbehind.

Thatbookwasthesinglebestthingthathappenedtome(sorryaboutthat,Helen;Helenismywife,thehot-shotchildpsychiatrist),andlongbeforeIwasevenmarried,IknewIwasgoingtoshareitwithmyson.IknewIwasgoingtohaveasontoo.SowhenJasonwasborn(ifhe’dbeenagirl,hewouldhavebeenPamby;can

youbelievethat,awomanchildpsychiatristwhowouldgiveherkidssuchnames?)—anyway,whenJasonwasborn,ImadeamentalnotetobuyhimacopyofThePrincessBrideforhistenthbirthday.

AfterwhichIpromptlyforgotallaboutit.

Flashforward:theBeverlyHillsHotellastDecember.I

amgoingmadhavingmeetingsonIraLevin’sTheStepfordWives,whichIamadaptingfortheSilverScreen.IcallmywifeinNewYorkatdinnertime,whichIalwaysdo—itmakesherfeelwanted—andwe’retalkingandatthecloseshesays,“Oh.We’regivingJasonaten-speedbike.Iboughtittoday.Ithoughtthatwasfitting,don’tyou?”

“Whyfitting?”

“Ohcomeon,Willy,tenyears,tenspeeds.”

“Ishetentomorrow?Itwentcleanouttamyhead.”

“Callusatsuppertimetomorrowandyoucanwishhimahappy.”

“Helen?”Isaidthen.“Listen,domesomething.Buzzthe

Nine-nine-ninebookshopandhavethemsendoverThePrincessBride.”

“Lemmegetapencil,”andshe’sgoneawhile.“Okay.Shoot.Thewhatbride?”

“Princess.ByS.Morgenstern.It’sakids’classic.TellhimI’llquizhimonitwhenI’mbacknextweekandthathedoesn’thavetolikeitoranything,butifhe

doesn’t,tellhimI’llkillmyself.Givehimthatmessageexactlyplease;Iwouldn’twanttoapplyanyextrapressureoranything.”

“Kissme,myfool.”

“Mmmm-wah.”

“Nostarletsnow.”Thiswasalwayshersign-offlinewhenIwasaloneandonthelooseinsunnyCalifornia.

“They’reextinct,dummy.”Thatwasmine.Wehungup.

Nowthenextafternoon,itsohappened,fromsomewhere,thereactuallyappearedaliving,sun-tanned,breathing-deeplystarlet.I’mlollingbythepoolandshemovesbyinabikiniandsheisgorgeous.I’mfreefortheafternoon,Idon’tknowasoul,soIstartplayingagameabouthowcanIapproachthisgirlsoshe

won’tlaughoutloud.Ineverdoanything,butoglingisgreatexerciseandIamamajor-leaguegirlwatcher.Ican’tcomeupwithanyapproachthatconnectswithreality,soIstarttoswimmylaps.Iswimaquarter-mileadaybecauseIhaveabaddiscatthebaseofmyspine.

Upandback,upandback,eighteenlaps,andwhenI’mdone,I’mhangingoninthe

deepend,pantingaway,andoverswimsthisstarlet.Shehangsontheledgeinthedeependtoo,maybeallofsixinchesaway,hairallwetandglisteningandthebody’sunderwaterbutyouknowit’sthereandshesays(thishappenednow),“Pardonme,butaren’tyoutheWilliamGoldmanwhowroteBoysandGirlsTogether?That’s,like,myfavoritebookinalltheworld.”

Iclutchtheledgeandnod;Idon’trememberwhatIsaidexactly.(Lie:IrememberexactlywhatIsaid,exceptit’stoogoonliketoputitdown;yegods,I’mfortyyearsold.“Goldman,yesGoldman,I’mGoldman.”Itcameoutlikeallinoneword,sothere’snotellingwhatlanguageshethoughtIwasrespondingin.)

“I’mSandySterling,”she

said.“Hi.”

“Hi,SandySterling,”Igotout,whichwasprettysuave,suaveformeanyway;I’dsayitagainifthesamesituationcameup.

Thenmynamewaspaged.“TheZanuckswon’tleavemealone,”Isay,andshebreaksoutlaughingandIhurrytothephonethinkingwasitreallyallthatclever,andby

thetimeIgetthereIdecideyesitwas,andintothereceiverIsaythat,“Clever.”Not“hello.”Not“BillGoldman.”“Clever”iswhatIsay.

“Didyousay‘clever,‘Willy?”It’sHelen.

“I’minastoryconference,Helen,andwe’respeakingtonightatsuppertime.Whyareyoucallingatlunchfor?”

“Hostile,hostile.”

Neverarguewithyourwifeabouthostilitywhenshe’sacertifiedFreudian.“It’sjustthey’redrivingmecrazywithstupidnotionsinthisstoryconference.What’sup?”

“Nothing,probably,excepttheMorgenstern’soutofprint.I’vecheckedwithDoubleday’stoo.Yousoundedkindoflikeitmight

beimportantsoI’mjustlettingyouknowJasonwillhavetobesatisfiedwithhisveryfittingten-speedmachine.”

“Notimportant,”Isaid.SandySterlingwassmiling.Fromthedeepend.Straightatme.“Thanksthoughanyway.“Iwasabouttohangup,thenIsaid,“Well,aslongasyou’vegonethisfar,callArgosyonFifty-ninth

Street.Theyspecializeinout-of-printstuff.”

“Argosy.Fifty-ninth.Gotit.Talktoyouatsupper.“Shehungup.

Withoutsaying“Nostarletsnow.”Everycallsheendswiththatandnowshedoesn’t.CouldIhavegivenitawaybysomethinginmytone?Helen’sveryspookyaboutthat,beingashrinkand

all.Guilt,likepudding,beganbubblingonthebackburner.

Iwentbacktomyloungechair.Alone.

SandySterlingswamafewlaps.IpickedupmyNewYorkTimes.Acertainamountofsexualtensioninthevicinity.“Doneswimming?”sheasks.Iputmypaperdown.Shewasbytheedgeofthepoolnow,

nearestmychair.

Inod.staringather.

“WhichZanuck,DickorDarryl?”

“Itwasmywife,”Isaid.Emphasisonthelastword.

Didn’tfazeher.Shegotoutandlaydowninthenextchair.Topheavybutgolden.Ifyoulikethemthatway,you

hadtolikeSandySterling.Ilikethemthatway.

“You’reouthereontheLevin,aren’tyou?StepfordWives?“

“I’mdoingthescreenplay.”

“Ireallylovedthatbook.That’s,like,myfavoritebookinalltheworld.I’dreallylovetobeinapicturelikethat.Writtenbyyou.I’ddo

anythingforashotatthat.”

Sothereitwas.Shewasputtingitrightoutthere,ontheline.

NaturallyIsetherstraightfast.“Listen,”Isaid,“Idon’tdothingslikethat.IfIdid,Iwould,becauseyou’regorgeous,thatgoeswithoutsaying,andIwishyoujoy,butlife’stoocomplicatedwithoutthatkindofthing

goingon.”

That’swhatIthoughtIwasgoingtosay.ButthenIfigured,Heywaitaminute,whatlawistherethatsaysyouhavetobethetokenpuritanofthemoviebusiness?I’veworkedwithpeoplewhokeepcardfilesonthiskindofthing.(True;askJoyceHaber.)“Haveyouactedalotinfeatures?”Iheardmyselfasking.Now

youknowIwasreallypassionatetoknowtheanswertothatone.

“Nothingthatreallyenlargedmyboundaries,y’knowwhatImean?”

“Mr.Goldman?”

Ilookedup.Itwastheassistantlifeguard.

“Foryouagain.”Hehanded

methephone.

“Willy?”Justthesoundofmywife’svoicesentsheerblindmisgivingsthrougheachandeverybitofme.

“Yes,Helen?”

“Yousoundfunny.”

“Whatisit,Helen?”

“Nothing,but—”

“Itcan’tbenothingoryouwouldn’thavecalledme.”

“What’sthematter,Willy?”

“Nothingisthematter.Iwastryingtobelogical.Youdid,afterall,placethecall.Iwasmerelytryingtoascertainwhy.”IcanbeprettydistantwhenIputmymindtoit.

“You’rehidingsomething.”

NothingdrivesmecrazierthanwhenHelendoesthat.Because,see,withthishorriblepsychiatristbackgroundofhers,sheonlyaccusesmeofhidingthingsfromherwhenI’mhidingthingsfromher.”Helen,I’minthemiddleofastoryconferencenow;justgetonwithit.”

Sothereitwasagain.Iwaslyingtomywifeabout

anotherwoman,andtheotherwomanknewit.

SandySterling,inthenextchair,smileddeadintomyeyes.

“Argosydoesn’thavethebook,nobodyhasthebook,good-by,Willy.”Shehungup.

“Wifeagain?”

Inodded,putthephoneonthetablebymyloungechair.

“Yousuretalktoeachotheralot.”

“Iknow,”Itoldher.“It’smurdertryingtogetanywritingdone.”

Iguessshesmiled.

TherewasnowayIcouldstopmyheartfrompounding.

“ChapterOne.TheBride,”myfathersaid.

Imusthavejerkedaroundorsomethingbecauseshesaid,“Huh?”

“Myfa—”Ibegan.“Ithou—”Ibegan.“Nothing,”Isaidfinally.

“Easy,”shesaid,andshegavemeareallysweetsmile.Shedroppedherhandover

mineforjustasecond,verygentleandreassuring.Iwonderedwasitpossibleshewasunderstandingtoo.Gorgeousandunderstanding?Wasthatlegal?Helenwasn’teverunderstanding.Shewasalwayssayingshewas—”Iunderstandwhyyou’resayingthat,Willy”—butsecretlyshewasferretingoutmyneuroses.No,Iguessshewasunderstanding;whatshewasn’twassympathetic.And,

ofcourse,shewasn’tgorgeoustoo.Skinny,yes.Brilliant,yes.

“Imetmywifeingraduateschool,”IsaidtoSandySterling.“ShewasgettingherPh.D.”

SandySterlingwashavingalittletroublewithmytrainofthought.

“Wewerejustkids.Howold

areyou?”

“Youwantmyrealageormybaseballage?”

Ireallylaughedthen.Gorgeousandunderstandingandfunny?

“Fencing.Fighting.Torture,”myfathersaid.“Love.Hate.Revenge.Giants.Beastsofallnaturesanddescriptions.Truths.Passion.Miracles.”

Itwas12:35andIsaid,“Onephonecall,okay?”

“Okay.”

“NewYorkCityinformation,”Isaidintothereceiver,andwhenIwasthroughIsaid,“CouldyougivemethenamesofsomeFourthAvenuebookshops,please.Theremustbetwentyofthem.“FourthAvenueistheusedandout-of-print

bookcenteroftheEnglish-speakingchapterofthecivilizedworld.Whiletheoperatorlooked,Iturnedtothecreatureonthenextloungeandsaid,“Mykid’stentoday,I’dkindoflikeforhimtohavethisbookfromme,apresent,won’ttakeasec.”

“Swing,”SandySterlingsaid.

“Ilistonebookstorecalled

theFourthAvenueBookshop,”theoperatorsaid,andshegavemethenumber.

“Can’tyougivemeanyoftheothers?They’realldownthereinaclump.”

“Ifyewwe-illgivemeethey-renames,Icanhelpyou,“theoperatorsaid,speakingBelltalk.

“Thisone’lldo,”Isaid,andI

gotthehoteloperatortoringthroughforme.“Listen,I’mcallingfromLosAngeles,“Isaid,“andIneedThePrincessBridebyS.Morgenstern.”

“Nope.Sorry,”theguysaid,andbeforeIcouldsay,“Well,couldyougivemethenamesoftheotherstoresdownthere,“hehungup.“Getmethatnumberbackplease,”Isaidtothehoteloperator,andwhentheguywasontheline

again,Isaid,“ThisisyourLosAngelescorrespondent;don’thangupsofastthistime.”

“Iain’tgotit,mister.”

“Iunderstandthat.WhatI’dlikeis,sinceI’minCalifornia,couldyougivemethenamesandnumbersofsomeoftheotherstoresdownthere.Theymighthaveitandtherearen’texactlyan

abundanceofNewYorkYellowPagesdriftingaroundouthere.”

“Theydon’thelpme,Idon’thelpthem.”Hehungupagain.

Isattherewiththereceiverinmyhand.

“What’sthisspecialbook?”SandySterlingasked.

“Notimportant,”Isaid,andhungup.ThenIsaid,“Yesitis”andpickedupthereceiveragain,eventuallygotmypublishinghouseinNewYork,HarcourtBraceJovanovich,and,afterafewmoreeventuallys,myeditor’ssecretaryreadmeoffthenamesandnumbersofeverybookstoreintheFourthAvenuearea.

“Hunters,”myfatherwas

sayingnow.“Badmen.Goodmen.Beautifulestladies.”Hewascampedinmycranium,hunchedover,baldandsquinting,tryingtoread,tryingtoplease,tryingtokeephissonaliveandthewolvesaway.

Itwas1:10beforeIhadthelistcompletedandrangofffromthesecretary.

ThenIstartedwiththe

bookstores.“Listen,I’mcallingfromLosAngelesontheMorgensternbook,ThePrincessBride,and...”

“...sorry...”

“...sorry...”

Busysignal.

“...notforyears...”

Anotherbusy.

1:35.

Sandyswimming.Gettingalittleangrytoo.ShemusthavethoughtIwasputtingheron.Iwasn’t,butitsurelookedthatway.

“...sorry,hadacopyinDecember...”

“...nosoap,sorry...”

“Thisisarecorded

announcement.Thenumberyouhavedialedisnotinworkingorder.Pleasehangupand...”

“...nope...”

Sandyreallyupsetnow.Glaring,gatheringdebris.

“...whoreadsMorgensterntoday?...”

Sandygoing,going,

gorgeous,gone.

Bye,Sandy.Sorry,Sandy.

“...sorry,we’reclosing...”

1:55now.4:55inNewYork.

PanicinLosAngeles.

Busy.

Noanswer.

Noanswer.

“FlorineseIgotIthink.Somewhereintheback.”

Isatupinmyloungechair.Hisaccentwasthick.“IneedtheEnglishtranslation.”

“Youdon’tgetmuchcallforMorgensternnowadays.Idon’tknowanymorewhatIgotbackthere.Youcomeintomorrow,youlookaround.”

“I’minCalifornia,”Isaid.

“Mashuganuh,”hesaid.

“Itwouldmeanjustagreatdealtomeifyou’dlook.”

“YougonnaholdonwhileIdoit?I’mnotgonnapayforthiscall.”

“Takeyourtime,”Isaid.

Hetookseventeenminutes.I

justhungon,listening.EverysooftenI’dhearafootsteporacrashofbooksoragrunt—”uch—uch”

Finally:“Well,IgottheFlorineselikeIthought.”

Soclose.“ButnottheEnglish,”Isaid.

Andsuddenlyhe’syellingatme:“What,areyoucrazy?IbreakmybackandhesaysI

haven’tgotit,yesIgotit,Igotitrighthere,and,believeme,it’sgonnacostaprettypenny.”

“Great—really,nokidding,nowlisten,here’swhatyoudo,getyourselfacabandtellhimtotakethebooksstraightuptoParkand—”

“MisterCaliforniaMashuganuh,youlistennow—it’scomingupablizzard

andI’mgoingnoplaceandneitherarethesebookswithoutmoney—sixfifty,onthebarreleach,youwanttheEnglish,yougottotaketheFlorinese,andIcloseat6:00.Thesebooksdon’tleavemypremiseswithoutthirteendollarschanginghands.”

“Don’tmove,”Isaid,hangingup,andwhodoyoucallwhenit’safterhoursandChristmasonthehorizon?

Onlyyourlawyer.“Charley,”IsaidwhenIgothim.“Pleasedomethis.GotoFourthAvenue,Abromowitz’s,givehimthirteendollarsfortwobooks,taxiuptomyhouseandtellthedoormantotakethemtomyapartment,andyes,Iknowit’ssnowing,whatdoyousay?”

“ThatissuchabizarrerequestIhavetoagreetodoit.”

IcalledAbromowitzyetagain.“Mylawyerishotonthetrail.”

“Nochecks,”Abromowitzsaid.

“You’reallheart.”Ihungup,andstartedfiguring.Moreorless120minuteslongdistanceat$1.35perfirstthreeminutesplusthirteenforthebooksplusprobablytenforCharley’staxiplus

probablysixtyforhistimecameto...?Twohundredfiftymaybe.AllformyJasontohavetheMorgenstern.Ileanedbackandclosedmyeyes.Twohundredfiftynottomentiontwosolidhoursoftormentandanguishandlet’snotforgetSandySterling.

Asteal.

Theycalledmeathalfpastseven.Iwasinmysuite.“He

lovesthebike,”Helensaid.“He’spracticallyoutofcontrol.”

“Fabbo,”Isaid.

“Andyourbookscame.”

“Whatbooks?”Isaid;Chevalierwasnevermorecasual.

“ThePrincessBride.Invariouslanguages,oneof

them,fortunately,English.”

“Well,that’snice,”Isaid,stillloose.“IpracticallyforgotIaskedtohave‘emsent.”

“How’dtheygethere?”

“Icalledmyeditor’ssecretaryandhadherscroungeupacouplecopies.MaybetheyhadthematHarcourt,whoknows?”(Theydidhave

copiesatHarcourt;canyoubuythat?I’llgettowhyinthenextpages,probably.)“Gimmethekid.”

“Hi,”hesaidasecondlater.

“Listen,Jason,”Itoldhim.“Wethoughtaboutgivingyouabikeforyourbirthdaybutwedecidedagainstit.”

“Boy,areyouwrong,Igotonealready.”

Jasonhasinheritedhismother’stotallackofhumor.Idon’tknow;maybehe’sfunnyandI’mnot.Wejustdon’tlaughmuchtogetherisallIcansayforsure.MysonJasonisthisincredible-lookingkid—painthimyellow,he’dmopupfortheschoolsumoteam.Ablimp.Allthetimestuffinghisface.IwatchmyweightandoldHelenisonlyvisiblefullfrontplusontopofwhichsheis

thisleadingchildshrinkinManhattanandourkidcanrollfasterthanhecanwalk.“He’sexpressinghimselfthroughfood,”Helenalwayssays.“Hisanxieties.Whenhefeelsreadytocope,he’llslimdown.”

“Hey,Jason?Momtellsmethisbookarrivedtoday.ThePrincessthing?I’dsurelikeitifmaybeyou’dgiveitareadwhileI’mgone.Ilovedit

whenIwasakidandI’mkindofinterestedinyourreaction.”

“DoIhavetoloveittoo?”Hewashismother’ssonallright.

“Jason,no.Justthetruth,exactlywhatyouthink.Imissyou,bigshot.AndI’lltalktoyouonyourbirthday.”

“Boy,areyouwrong.Todayismybirthday.”

Webanteredabitmore,longpastwhentherewasmuchtosay.ThenIdidthesamewithmyspouse,andhungup,promisingareturnbytheendofoneweek.

Ittooktwo.

Conferencesdragged,producersgotinspirationsthathadtocarefullygetshotdown,directorsneededtheiregossoothed.Anyway,Iwas

longerthananticipatedinsunnyCal.Finally,though,Iwasallowedtoreturntothecareandsafetyofthefamily,soIquickbuzzedtoL.A.airportbeforeanybody’smindchanged.Igotthereearly,whichIalwaysdowhenIcomeback,becauseIhadtoloadupmypocketswithdoodadsandsuchforJason.EverytimeIgethomefromatripheruns(waddles)tomehollering,“Lemmesee,

lemmeseethepockets”andthenhegoesthroughallmypocketstakingouthisgraft,andoncethelootistotaled,hegivesmeanicehug.Isn’titawfulwhatwe’lldointhisworldtofeelwanted?

“Lemmeseethepockets,”Jasonshouted,movingtomeacrossthefoyer.ItwasasuppertimeThursdayand,whilehewentthroughhisritual,Helenemergedfrom

thelibraryandkissedmycheek,going“whatadashing-lookingfellowIhave,”whichisalsoritual,and,ladenwithgifts,Jasonkindofhuggedmeandbeltedoff(waddledoff)tohisroom.“Angelica’sjustgettingdinneron,”Helensaid;“youcouldn’thavetimeditbetter.”

“Angelica?”

Helenputherfingertoher

lipsandwhispered,“It’sherthirddayonbutIthinkshemaybeatreasure.”

Iwhisperedback,“WhatwaswrongwiththetreasurewehadwhenIleft?She’donlybeenwithusaweekthen?”

“Sheprovedadisappointment,”Helensaid.Thatwasall.(Helenisthisbrilliantlady—juniorPhiBeteincollege,every

academichonorconceivable,reallyanintellectofstartlingbreadthandaccomplishment—onlyshecan’tkeepamaid.First,Iguessshefeelsguiltyhavinganybody,sincemostoftheanybody’savailablenowadaysareblackorSpanishandHelenisultra-superliberal.Second,she’ssoefficient,shescaresthem.Shecandoeverythingbetterthantheycanandsheknowsitandsheknowstheyknow

it.Third,onceshe’sgotthempanicked,shetriestoexplain,beingananalyst,whytheyshouldn’tbefrightened,andafteragoodsolidhalf-houregosearchwithHelen,they’rereallyfrightened.Anyway,wehavehadanaverageoffour“treasures”ayearforthelastfewyears.)

“We’vebeenrunninginbadluckbutit’llchange,”Isaid,justasreassuringlyasIknew

how.Iusedtoheckleheraboutthehelpproblem,butIlearnedthatwasnotnecessarilywise.

Dinnerwasreadyalittlelater,andwithanarmaroundmywifeandanarmaroundmyson,Iadvancedtowardthediningroom.Ifelt,atthatmoment,safe,secure,allthenicethings.Supperwasonthetable:creamedspinach,mashedpotatoes,gravyand

potroast;terrific,exceptIdon’tlikepotroast,sinceI’marare-meatman,butcreamedspinachIhavealechfor,so,allinall,amorethanediblespreadwassetacrossthetablecloth.Wesat.Helenservedthemeat;therestwepassed.Mypot-roastslicewasnotterriblymoistbutthegravycouldcompensate.Helenrang.Angelicaappeared.Maybetwentyoreighteen,swarthy,slow-

moving.“Angelica,”Helenbegan,“thisisMr.Goldman.”

Ismiledandsaid“Hi”andwavedafork.Shenoddedback.

“Angelica,thisisnotmeanttobeconstruedascriticism,sincewhathappenedisallmyfault,butinthefuturewemustbothtryveryhardtorememberthatMr.Goldmanlikeshisroastbeefrare—”

“Thiswasroastbeef?”Isaid.

Helenshotmealook.“Now,Angelica,thereisnoproblem,and/shouldhavetoldyoumorethanonceaboutMr.Goldman’spreferences,butnexttimewehavebonedribroast,let’salldoourbesttomakethemiddlepink,shallwe?”

Angelicabackedintothekitchen.Another“treasure”

downthetubes.

Remembernow,weallthreestartedthismealhappy.Twoofusareleftinthatstate,Helenclearlybeingdistraught.

Jasonwaspilingthemashedpotatoesonhisplatewithapracticedandsteadymotion.

Ismiledatmykid.“Hey,”Itried,“let’sgoalittleeasy,

huh,fella?”

Hesplattedanotherfatspoonfulontohisplate.

“Jason,they’rejustloaded,”Isaidthen.

“I’mreallyhungry,Dad,”hesaid,notlookingatme.

“Filluponthemeatthen,whydon’tyou,”Isaid.“Eatallthemeatyouwant,Iwon’t

sayaword.”

“I’mnoteatin’nothin’!”Jasonsaid,andheshovedhisplateawayandfoldedhisarmsandstaredoffintospace.

“IfIwereafurnituresalesperson,”Helensaidtome,“orperhapsatellerinabank,Icouldunderstand;buthowcanyouhavespentalltheseyearsmarriedtoa

psychiatristandtalklikethat.You’reoutoftheDarkAges,Willy.”

“Helen,theboyisoverweight.AllIsuggestedwashemightleaveafewpotatoesfortherestoftheworldandstuffonthislovelyprimepotroastyourtreasurehaswhippedupformytriumphantreturn.”

“Willy,Idon’twanttoshock

you,butJasonhappenstohavenotonlyaveryfinemindbutalsoexceptionallykeeneyesight.Whenhelooksathimselfinthemirror,Iassureyouheknowsheisnotslender.Thatisbecausehedoesnotchoose,atthisstage,tobeslender.”

“He’snotthatfarfromdating,Helen;whatthen?”

“Jasonisten,darling,andnot

interested,atthisstage,ingirls.Atthisstage,heisinterestedinrocketry.Whatdifferencedoesaslightcaseofoverweightmaketoarocketlover?Whenhechoosestobeslender,Iassureyou,hehasboththeintelligenceandthewillpowertobecomeslender.Untilthattime,please,inmypresence,donotfrustratethechild.”

SandySterlinginherbikiniwasdancingbehindmyeyes.

“I’mnoteatin’andthat’sit,”Jasonsaidthen.

“Sweetchild,”Helensaidtothekid,inthattoneshereservesonthisEarthonlyforsuchmoments,“belogical.Ifyoudonoteatyourpotatoes,youwillbeupset,andIwillbeupset;yourfather,clearly,isalready

upset.Ifyoudoeatyourpotatoes,Ishallbepleased,youwillbepleased,yourtummywillbepleased.Wecandonothingaboutyourfather.Youhaveitinyourpowertoupsetallorone,aboutwhom,asIhavealreadysaid,wecandonothing.Therefore,theconclusionshouldbeclear,butIhavefaithinyourabilitytoreachityourself.Dowhatyouwill,Jason.”

Hebegantostuffitin.

“You’remakingapoofoutofthatkid,”Isaid,onlynotloudenoughforanybodybutmeandSandytohear.ThenItookadeep,deepbreath,becausewheneverIcomehomethere’salwaystrouble,whichisbecause,Helensays,Ibringtensionwithme,IalwaysneedinhumanproofthatI’vebeenmissed,thatI’mstillneeded,loved,etc.

AllIknowis,Ihatebeingawaybutcominghomeistheworst.There’sneverreallymuchchancetogointo“well,what’snewsinceI’mgone”chitchat,seeingthatHelenandItalkeverynightanyway.

“I’llbetyou’reawhizonthatbike,”Isaidthen.“Maybewe’llgoforaridethisweekend.”

Jasonlookedupfromhispotatoes.“Ireallylovedthebook,Dad.Itwasgreat.”

Iwassurprisedthathesaidit,because,naturally,Iwasjuststartingtoworkmywayintothatsubjectmatter.Butthen,asHelen’salwayssaying,Jasonain’tnodummy.“WellI’mglad,”Isaid.AndwasIever.

Jasonnodded.“Maybeit’s

eventhebestIreadinallmylife.”

Inibbledawayatmyspinach.“Whatwasyourfavoritepart?”

“ChapterOne.TheBride,”Jasonsaid.

Thatreallysurprisedme.NotthatChapterOnestinksoranything,butthere’snotthatmuchthatgoesoncompared

withtheincrediblestufflater.Buttercupgrowsupmostlyisall.“HowabouttheclimbuptheCliffsofInsanity?”Isaidthen.That’sinChapterFive.

“Oh,great,”Jasonsaid.

“AndthatdescriptionofPrinceHumperdinck’sZooofDeath?”That’sinthesecondchapter.

“Evengreater,”Jasonsaid.

“Whatknockedmeoutaboutit,”Isaid,“wasthatit’sthisveryshortlittlepassageontheZooofDeathbutyetsomehowyoujustknowit’sgoingtofigureinlater.Didyougetthatsamefeeling?”

“Umm-humm.”Jasonnodded.“Great.”

BythenIknewhehadn’treadit.

“Hetriedtoreadit,”Helencutin.“Hedidreadthefirstchapter.ChapterTwowasimpossibleforhim,sowhenhe’dmadeasufficientandreasonableattempt,Itoldhimtostop.Differentpeoplehavedifferenttastes.Itoldhimyou’dunderstand,Willy.”

OfcourseIunderstood.Ifeltjustsodesertedthough.

“Ididn’tlikeit,Dad.I

wantedto.”

Ismiledathim.Howcouldhenotlikeit?Passion.Duels.Miracles.Giants.Truelove.

“You’renoteatingthespinacheither?”Helensaid.

Igotup.“Timechange;I’mnothungry.”Shedidn’tsayanythinguntilsheheardmeopenthefrontdoor.“Whereareyougoing?”shecalled

then.IfI’dknown,Iwouldhaveanswered.

IwanderedthroughDecember.Notopcoat.Iwasn’tawareofbeingcoldthough.AllIknewwasIwasfortyyearsoldandIdidn’tmeantobeherewhenIwasforty,lockedwiththisgeniusshrinkwifeandthisballoonson.Itmusthavebeen9:00whenIwassittinginthemiddleofCentralPark,alone,

noonenearme,nootherbenchoccupied.

ThatwaswhenIheardtherustlinginthebushes.Itstopped.Thenagain.Verrrysoft.Nearer.

Iwhirled,screaming”Don’tyoubugme!”andwhateveritwas—friend,foe,imagination—fled.IcouldheartherunningandIrealizedsomething:right

then,atthatmoment,Iwasdangerous.

Thenitgotcold.Iwenthome.Helenwasgoingoversomenotesinbed.Ordinarily,shewouldcomeoutwithsomethingaboutmebeingabitelderlyforactsofjuvenilebehavior.Buttheremusthavebeendangerclingingtomestill.Icouldseeitinhersmarteyes.“Hedidtry,”shesaidfinally.

“Ineverthoughthedidn’t,”Ianswered.“Where’sthebook?”

“Thelibrary,Ithink.”

Iturned,startedout.

“CanIgetyouanything?”

Isaidno.ThenIwenttothelibrary,closedmyselfin,huntedoutThePrincessBride.Itwasinprettygoodshape,

IrealizedasIcheckedthebinding,whichiswhenIsawitwaspublishedbymypublishinghouse,HarcourtBraceJovanovich.Thiswasbeforethat;theyweren’tevenHarcourt,Brace&Worldyet.JustplainoldHarcourt,Braceperiod.Iflickedtothetitlepage,whichwasfunny,sinceI’dneverdonethatbefore;itwasalwaysmyfatherwho’ddonethehandling.IhadtolaughwhenIsawthereal

title,becauserightthereitsaid:

Youhadtoadmireaguywhocalledhisownnewbooka

classicbeforeitwaspublishedandanyoneelsehadachancetoreadit.Maybehefiguredifhedidn’tdoit,nobodywould,ormaybehewasjusttryingtogivethereviewersahelpinghand;Idon’tknow.Iskimmedthefirstchapter,anditwasprettymuchexactlyasIremembered.ThenIturnedtothesecondchapter,theoneaboutPrinceHumperdinckandthelittle

kindoftantalizingdescriptionoftheZooofDeath.

Andthat’swhenIbegantorealizetheproblem.

Notthatthedescriptionwasn’tthere.Itwas,andagainprettymuchasIrememberedit.Butbeforeyougottoit,thereweremaybesixtypagesoftextdealingwithPrinceHumperdinck’sancestryand

howhisfamilygotcontrolofFlorinandthisweddingandthatchildbegattingthisoneoverherewhothenmarriedsomebodyelse,andthenIskippedtothethirdchapter,TheCourtship,andthatwasallaboutthehistoryofGuilderandhowthatcountryreacheditsplaceintheworld.ThemoreIflippedon,themoreIknew:Morgensternwasn’twritinganychildren’sbook;hewaswritingakind

ofsatirichistoryofhiscountryandthedeclineofthemonarchyinWesterncivilization.

Butmyfatheronlyreadmetheactionstuff,thegoodparts.Heneverbotheredwiththeserioussideatall.

AbouttwointhemorningIcalledHiraminMartha’sVineyard.HiramHaydn’sbeenmyeditorforadozen

years,eversinceSoldierintheRain,andwe’vebeenthroughalottogether,butneveranyphonecallsattwointhemorning.TothisdayIknowhedoesn’tunderstandwhyIcouldn’twaittillmaybebreakfast.“You’resureyou’reallright,Bill,”hekeptsaying.

“Hey,Hiram,”Ibeganafteraboutsixrings.“Listen,youguyspublishedabookjust

afterWorldWarI.Doyouthinkitmightbeagoodideaformetoabridgeitandwe’drepublishitnow?”

“You’resureyou’reallright,Bill?”

“Fine,absolutely,andsee,I’djustusethegoodparts.I’dkindofbridgewheretherewereskipsinthenarrativeandleavethegoodpartsalone.Whatdoyouthink?”

“Bill,it’stwointhemorninguphere.AreyoustillinCalifornia?”

IactedlikeIwasallshockedandsurprised.Sohewouldn’tthinkIwasanut.“I’msorry,Hiram.MyGod,whatanidiot;it’sonly11:00inBeverlyHills.DoyouthinkyoucouldaskMr.Jovanovich,though?”

“Youmeannow?”

“Tomorroworthenextday,nobigdeal.”

“I’llaskhimanything,onlyI’mnotquitesureI’mgettinganaccuratereadingonexactlywhatyouwant.You’resureyou’reallright,Bill?”

“I’llbeinNewYorktomorrow.Callyouthenaboutthespecifics,okay?”

“Couldyoumakeitalittleearlierinthebusinessday,Bill?”

IlaughedandwehungupandIcalledZiginCalifornia.EvartsZieglerhasbeenmymovieagentformaybeeightyears.HedidtheButchCassidydealforme,andIwokehimuptoo.“Hey,Zig,couldyougetmeapostponementontheStepfordWives?There’sthisother

thingthat’scomeup.”

“You’recontractedtostartnow;howlongapostponement?”

“Ican’tsayforsure;I’veneverdoneanabridgementbefore.Justtellmewhatyouthinkthey’ddo?”

“Ithinkifit’salongpostponementthey’dthreatentosueandyou’dendup

losingthejob.”

Itcameoutprettymuchashesaid;theythreatenedtosueandIalmostlostthejobandsomemoneyanddidn’tmakeanyfriendsin“theindustry,”asthoseofusinshowbizcallmovies.

Buttheabridgementgotdone,andyouholditinyourhands.The“goodparts”version.

WhydidIgothroughallthat?

Helenpressuredmegreatlytothinkaboutananswer.Shefeltitwasimportant,notthatsheknownecessarily,butthatIknow.“Becauseyouactedcrackers,Willyboy,”shesaid.“Youhadmetrulyscared.”

Sowhy?

Ineverwasworthbeansatself-scrutiny.EverythingIwriteisimpulse.Thisfeelsright,thatsoundswrong—likethat.Ican’tanalyze—notmyownactionsanyway.

IknowIdon’texpectthistochangeanybodyelse’slifethewayitalteredmine.

Buttakethetitlewords—”trueloveandhighadventure”—Ibelievedinthat

once.Ithoughtmylifewasgoingtofollowthatpath.Prayedthatitwould.Obviouslyitdidn’t,butIdon’tthinkthere’shighadventureleftanymore.Nobodytakesoutaswordnowadaysandcries,“Hello.MynameisInigoMontoya.Youkilledmyfather;preparetodie!”

Andtrueloveyoucanforgetabouttoo.Idon’tknowifI

loveanythingtrulyanymorebeyondtheporterhouseatPeterLuger’sandthecheeseenchiladaatElParador’s.(Sorryaboutthat,Helen.)

Anyway,here’sthe“goodparts”version.S.Morgensternwroteit.Andmyfatherreadittome.AndnowIgiveittoyou.Whatyoudowithitwillbeofmorethanpassinginteresttousall.

NewYorkCityDecember,1972

One-THEBRIDE

TheyearthatButtercupwasborn,themostbeautifulwomanintheworldwasaFrenchscullerymaidnamedAnnette.AnnetteworkedinParisfortheDukeand

DuchessdeGuiche,anditdidnotescapetheDuke’snoticethatsomeoneextraordinarywaspolishingthepewter.TheDuke’snoticedidnotescapethenoticeoftheDuchesseither,whowasnotverybeautifulandnotveryrich,butplentysmart.TheDuchesssetaboutstudyingAnnetteandshortlyfoundheradversary’stragicflaw.

Chocolate.

Armednow,theDuchesssettowork.ThePalacedeGuicheturnedintoacandycastle.Everywhereyoulooked,bonbons.Therewerepilesofchocolate-coveredmintsinthedrawingrooms,basketsofchocolate-coverednougatsintheparlors.

Annetteneverhadachance.Insideaseason,shewentfromdelicatetowhopping,andtheDukeneverglanced

inherdirectionwithoutsadbewildermentcloudinghiseyes.(Annette,itmightbenoted,seemedonlycheerierthroughoutherenlargement.Sheeventuallymarriedthepastrychefandtheybothatealotuntiloldageclaimedthem.Things,itmightalsobenoted,didnotfaresocheerilyfortheDuchess.TheDuke,forreasonspassingunderstanding,nextbecamesmittenwithhisveryown

mother-in-law,whichcausedtheDuchessulcers,onlytheydidn’thaveulcersyet.Moreprecisely,ulcersexisted,peoplehadthem,buttheyweren’tcalled“ulcers.”Themedicalprofessionatthattimecalledthem“stomachpains”andfeltthebestcurewascoffeedollopedwithbrandytwiceadayuntilthepainssubsided.TheDuchesstookhermixturefaithfully,watchingthroughtheyearsas

herhusbandandhermotherblewkissesateachotherbehindherback.Notsurprisingly,theDuchess’sgrumpinessbecamelegendary,asVoltairehassoablychronicled.(ExceptthiswasbeforeVoltaire.)

TheyearButtercupturnedten,themostbeautifulwomanlivedinBengal,thedaughterofasuccessfulteamerchant.Thisgirl’sname

wasAluthra,andherskinwasofaduskyperfectionunseeninIndiaforeightyyears.(TherehaveonlybeenelevenperfectcomplexionsinallofIndiasinceaccurateaccountingbegan.)AluthrawasnineteentheyearthepoxplaguehitBengal.Thegirlsurvived,evenifherskindidnot.

WhenButtercupwasfifteen,AdelaTerrell,ofSussexon

theThames,waseasilythemostbeautifulcreature.Adelawastwenty,andsofardidsheoutdistancetheworldthatitseemedcertainshewouldbethemostbeautifulformany,manyyears.Butthenoneday,oneofhersuitors(shehad104ofthem)exclaimedthatwithoutquestionAdelamustbethemostidealitemyetspawned.Adela,flattered,begantoponderonthetruthofthe

statement.Thatnight,aloneinherroom,sheexaminedherselfporebyporeinhermirror.(Thiswasaftermirrors.)Ittookheruntilclosetodawntofinishherinspection,butbythattimeitwascleartoherthattheyoungmanhadbeenquitecorrectinhisassessment:shewas,throughnorealfaultofherown,perfect.

Asshestrolledthroughthe

familyrosegardenswatchingthesunrise,shefelthappierthanshehadeverbeen.“NotonlyamIperfect,”shesaidtoherself,“Iamprobablythefirstperfectpersoninthewholelonghistoryoftheuniverse.Notapartofmecouldstandimproving,howluckyIamtobeperfectandrichandsoughtafterandsensitiveandyoungand...”

Young?

ThemistwasrisingaroundherasAdelabegantothink.WellofcourseI’llalwaysbesensitive,shethought,andI’llalwaysberich,butIdon’tquiteseehowI’mgoingtomanagetoalwaysbeyoung.AndwhenI’mnotyoung,howamIgoingtostayperfect?AndifI’mnotperfect,well,whatelseisthere?Whatindeed?Adelafurrowedherbrowindesperatethought.Itwasthe

firsttimeinherlifeherbrowhadeverhadtofurrow,andAdelagaspedwhensherealizedwhatshehaddone,horrifiedthatshehadsomehowdamagedit,perhapspermanently.Sherushedbacktohermirrorandspentthemorning,andalthoughshemanagedtoconvinceherselfthatshewasstillquiteasperfectasever,therewasnoquestionthatshewasnotquiteashappyasshe

hadbeen.

Shehadbeguntofret.

Thefirstworrylinesappearedwithinafortnight;thefirstwrinkleswithinamonth,andbeforetheyearwasout,creasesabounded.Shemarriedsoonthereafter,theselfsamemanwhoaccusedherofsublimity,andgavehimmerryhellformanyyears.

Buttercup,ofcourse,atfifteen,knewnoneofthis.Andifshehad,wouldhavefoundittotallyunfathomable.Howcouldsomeonecareifshewerethemostbeautifulwomanintheworldornot.Whatdifferencecouldithavemadeifyouwereonlythethirdmostbeautiful.Orthesixth.(Buttercupatthistimewasnowherenearthathigh,beingbarelyinthetoptwenty,andthatprimarilyon

potential,certainlynotonanyparticularcareshetookofherself.Shehatedtowashherface,sheloathedtheareabehindherears,shewassickofcombingherhairanddidsoaslittleaspossible.Whatshelikedtodo,preferredaboveallelsereally,wastorideherhorseandtauntthefarmboy.

Thehorse’snamewas“Horse”(Buttercupwasnever

longonimagination)anditcamewhenshecalledit,wentwhereshesteeredit,didwhatshetoldit.Thefarmboydidwhatshetoldhimtoo.Actually,hewasmoreayoungmannow,buthehadbeenafarmboywhen,orphaned,hehadcometoworkforherfather,andButtercupreferredtohimthatwaystill.“FarmBoy,fetchmethis”;“Getmethat,FarmBoy—quickly,lazything,trot

noworI’lltellFather.”

“Asyouwish.”

Thatwasallheeveranswered.“Asyouwish.”Fetchthat,FarmBoy.“Asyouwish.”Drythis,FarmBoy.“Asyouwish.”Helivedinahoveloutneartheanimalsand,accordingtoButtercup’smother,hekeptitclean.Heevenreadwhenhehadcandles.

“I’llleavetheladanacreinmywill,”Buttercup’sfatherwasfondofsaying.(Theyhadacresthen.)

“You’llspoilhim,”Buttercup’smotheralwaysanswered.

“He’sslavedformanyyears;hardworkshouldberewarded.”Then,ratherthancontinuetheargument(theyhadargumentsthentoo),they

wouldbothturnontheirdaughter.

“Youdidn’tbathe,”herfathersaid.

“Idid,Idid”fromButtercup.

“Notwithwater,”herfathercontinued.“Youreeklikeastallion.”

“I’vebeenridingallday,”Buttercupexplained.

“Youmustbathe,Buttercup,”hermotherjoinedin.“Theboysdon’tliketheirgirlstosmellofstables.”

“Oh,theboys!”Buttercupfairlyexploded.“Idonotcareabout‘theboys.’Horselovesmeandthatisquitesufficient,thankyou.”

Shesaidthatspeechloud,andshesaiditoften.

But,likeitornot,thingswerebeginningtohappen.

Shortlybeforehersixteenthbirthday,Buttercuprealizedthatithadnowbeenmorethanamonthsinceanygirlinthevillagehadspokentoher.Shehadnevermuchbeenclosetogirls,sothechangewasnothingsharp,butatleastbeforetherewereheadnodsexchangedwhensherodethroughthevillageor

alongthecarttracks.Butnow,fornoreason,therewasnothing.Aquickglanceawayassheapproached,thatwasall.ButtercupcorneredCorneliaonemorningattheblacksmith’sandaskedaboutthesilence.“Ishouldthink,afterwhatyou’vedone,you’dhavethecourtesynottopretendtoask”camefromCornelia.“AndwhathaveIdone?”“What?What?...You’vestolenthem.”With

that,Corneliafled,butButtercupunderstood;sheknewwho“them”was.

Theboys.

Thevillageboys.

Thebeef-wittedfeatherbrainedrattleskulledclodpateddim-domednoodle-nogginedsapheadedlunk-knobbedboys.

Howcouldanybodyaccuseherofstealingthem?Whywouldanybodywantthemanyway?Whatgoodwerethey?Alltheydidwaspesterandvexandannoy.“CanIbrushyourhorse,Buttercup?”“Thankyou,butthefarmboydoesthat.”“CanIgoridingwithyou,Buttercup?”“Thankyou,butIreallydoenjoymyselfalone.”“Youthinkyou’retoogoodforanybody,don’tyou,

Buttercup?”“No;noIdon’t.Ijustlikeridingbymyself,that’sall.”

Butthroughouthersixteenthyear,eventhiskindoftalkgavewaytostammeringandflushingand,attheverybest,questionsabouttheweather.“Doyouthinkit’sgoingtorain,Buttercup?”“Idon’tthinkso;theskyisblue.”“Well,itmightrain.”“Yes,Isupposeitmight.”“Youthink

you’retoogoodforanybody,don’tyou,Buttercup?”“No,Ijustdon’tthinkit’sgoingtorain,that’sall.”

Atnight,moreoftenthannot,theywouldcongregateinthedarkbeyondherwindowandlaughabouther.Sheignoredthem.Usuallythelaughterwouldgivewaytoinsult.Shepaidthemnomind.Iftheygrewtoodamaging,thefarmboyhandledthings,emerging

silentlyfromhishovel,thrashingafewofthem,sendingthemflying.Sheneverfailedtothankhimwhenhedidthis.“Asyouwish”wasallheeveranswered.

Whenshewasalmostseventeen,amaninacarriagecametotownandwatchedassherodeforprovisions.Hewasstillthereonherreturn,peeringout.Shepaidhimno

mindand,indeed,byhimselfhewasnotimportant.Buthemarkedaturningpoint.Othermenhadgoneoutoftheirwaytocatchsightofher;othermenhadevenriddentwentymilesfortheprivilege,asthismanhad.Theimportancehereisthatthiswasthefirstrichmanwhohadbotheredtodoso,thefirstnoble.Anditwasthisman,whosenameislosttoantiquity,whomentioned

ButtercuptotheCount.

ThelandofFlorinwassetbetweenwhereSwedenandGermanywouldeventuallysettle.(ThiswasbeforeEurope.)Intheory,itwasruledbyKingLotharonandhissecondwife,theQueen.Butinfact,theKingwasbarelyhangingon,couldonlyrarelytelldayfromnight,andbasicallyspenthistimein

muttering.Hewasveryold,everyorganinhisbodyhadlongsincebetrayedhim,andmostofhisimportantdecisionsregardingFlorinhadacertainarbitraryqualitythatbotheredmanyoftheleadingcitizens.

PrinceHumperdinckactuallyranthings.IftherehadbeenaEurope,hewouldhavebeenthemostpowerfulmaninit.Evenasitwas,nobodywithin

athousandmileswantedtomesswithhim.

TheCountwasPrinceHumperdinck’sonlyconfidant.HislastnamewasRugen,butnooneneededtouseit—hewastheonlyCountinthecountry,thetitlehavingbeenbestowedbythePrinceasabirthdaypresentsomeyearsbefore,thehappeningtakingplacenaturally,atoneoftheCountess’sparties.

TheCountesswasconsiderablyyoungerthanherhusband.AllofherclothescamefromParis(thiswasafterParis)andshehadsuperbtaste.(Thiswasaftertaste,too,butonlyjust.Andsinceitwassuchanewthing,andsincetheCountesswastheonlyladyinallFlorintopossessit,isitanywondershewastheleadinghostessoftheland?)Eventually,herpassionforfabricandface

paintcausedhertosettlepermanentlyinParis,wheresherantheonlysalonofinternationalconsequence.

Fornow,shebusiedherselfwithsimplysleepingonsilk,eatingongoldandbeingthesinglemostfearedandadmiredwomaninFlorinesehistory.Ifshehadfigurefaults,herclothesconcealedthem;ifherfacewaslessthandivine,itwashardtotell

onceshegotdoneapplyingsubstances.(Thiswasbeforeglamour,butifithadn’tbeenforladiesliketheCountess,therewouldneverhavebeenaneedforitsinvention.)

Insum,theRugenswereCoupleoftheWeekinFlorin,andhadbeenformanyyears....

Thisisme.Allabridging

remarksandothercommentswillbeinredsoyou’llknow.WhenIsaidatthestartthatI’dneverreadthisbook,that’strue.Myfatherreadittome,andIjustquickskimmedalong,crossingoutwholesectionswhenIdidtheabridging,leavingeverythingjustasitwasintheoriginalMorgenstern.

Thischapteristotallyintact.Myintrusionhereisbecause

ofthewayMorgensternusesparentheses.ThecopyeditoratHarcourtkeptfillingthemarginsofthegalleyproofswithquestions:‘HowcanitbebeforeEuropebutafterParis?’And‘Howisitpossiblethishappensbeforeglamourwhenglamourisanancientconcept?See“glamer”intheOxfordEnglishDictionary.’Andeventually:Iamgoingcrazy.WhatamItomakeof

theseparentheses?Whendoesthisbooktakeplace?Idon’tunderstandanything.Hellllppppp!!!’Denise,thecopyeditor,hasdoneallmybookssinceBoysandGirlsTogetherandshehadneverbeenasemotionalinthemarginswithmebefore.

Icouldn’thelpher.

EitherMorgensternmeantthemseriouslyorhedidn’t.

Ormaybehemeantsomeofthemseriouslyandsomeothershedidn’t.Butheneversaidwhichweretheseriouslyones.Ormaybeitwastheauthor’swayoftellingthereaderstylisticallythat‘thisisn’treal;itneverhappened.’That’swhatIthink,inspiteofthefactthatifyoureadbackintoFlorinesehistory,itdidhappen.Thefacts,anyway;noonecansayabouttheactualmotivations.AllI

cansuggesttoyouis,iftheparenthesesbugyou,don’treadthem.

“Quick—quick—come—”Buttercup’sfatherstoodinhisfarmhouse,staringoutthewindow.

“Why?”Thisfromthemother.Shegaveawaynothingwhenitcametoobedience.

Thefathermadeaquickfingerpoint.“Look—”

“Youlook;youknowhow.”Buttercup’sparentsdidnothaveexactlywhatyoumightcallahappymarriage.Alltheyeverdreamedofwasleavingeachother.

Buttercup’sfathershruggedandwentbacktothewindow.“Ahhhh,”hesaidafterawhile.Andalittlelater,

again,“Ahhhh.”

Buttercup’smotherglancedupbrieflyfromhercooking.

“Suchriches,”Buttercup’sfathersaid.“Glorious.”

Buttercup’smotherhesitated,thenputherstewspoondown.(Thiswasafterstew,butsoiseverything.Whenthefirstmanfirstclamberedfromtheslimeandmadehis

firsthomeonland,whathehadforsupperthatfirstnightwasstew.)

“Theheartswellsatthemagnificence,”Buttercup’sfathermutteredveryloudly.

“Whatexactlyisit,dumpling?”Buttercup’smotherwantedtoknow.

“Youlook;youknowhow”wasallhereplied.(Thiswas

theirthirty-thirdspatoftheday—thiswaslongafterspats—andhewasbehind,thirteentotwenty,buthehadmadeupalotofdistancesincelunch,whenitwasseventeentotwoagainsthim.)

“Donkey,”themothersaid,andcameovertothewindow.Amomentlatershewasgoing“Ahhh”rightalongwithhim.

Theystoodthere,thetwoofthem,tinyandawed.

Fromsettingthedinnertable,Buttercupwatchedthem.

“TheymustbegoingtomeetPrinceHumperdincksomeplace,”Buttercup’smothersaid.

Thefathernodded.“Hunting.That’swhatthePrincedoes.”

“Howluckywearetohaveseenthempassby,”Buttercup’smothersaid,andshetookherhusband’shand.

Theoldmannodded.“NowIcandie.”

Sheglancedathim.“Don’t.”Hertonewassurprisinglytender,andprobablyshesensedhowimportanthereallywastoher,becausewhenhediddie,twoyears

furtheron,shewentrightafter,andmostofthepeoplewhoknewherwellagreeditwasthesuddenlackofoppositionthatundidher.

Buttercupcamecloseandstoodbehindthem,staringoverthem,andsoonshewasgaspingtoo,becausetheCountandCountessandalltheirpagesandsoldiersandservantsandcourtiersandchampionsandcarriageswere

passingbythecarttrackatthefrontofthefarm.

Thethreestoodinsilenceastheprocessionmovedforward.Buttercup’sfatherwasatinymuttofamanwhohadalwaysdreamedoflivingliketheCount.HehadoncebeentwomilesfromwheretheCountandPrincehadbeenhunting,anduntilthismomentthathadbeenthehighpointofhislife.Hewas

aterriblefarmer,andnotmuchofahusbandeither.Therewasn’treallymuchinthisworldheexcelledat,andhecouldneverquitefigureouthowhehappenedtosirehisdaughter,butheknew,deepdown,thatitmusthavebeensomekindofwonderfulmistake,thenatureofwhichhehadnointentionofinvestigating.

Buttercup’smotherwasa

gnarledshrimpofawoman,thornyandworrying,whohadalwaysdreamedofsomehowjustoncebeingpopular,liketheCountesswassaidtobe.Shewasaterriblecook,anevenmorelimitedhousekeeper.HowButtercupslidfromherwombwas,ofcourse,beyondher.Butshehadbeentherewhenithappened;thatwasenoughforher.

Buttercupherself,standinghalfaheadoverherparents,stillholdingthedinnerdishes,stillsmellingofHorse,onlywishedthatthegreatprocessionwasn’tquitesofaraway,soshecouldseeiftheCountess’sclothesreallywereallthatlovely.

Asifinanswertoherrequest,theprocessionturnedandbeganenteringthefarm.

“Here?”Buttercup’sfathermanaged.“MyGod,why?”

Buttercup’smotherwhirledonhim.“Didyouforgettopayyourtaxes?”(Thiswasaftertaxes.Buteverythingisaftertaxes.Taxeswerehereevenbeforestew.)

“EvenifIdid,theywouldn’tneedallthattocollectthem,”andhegesturedtowardthefrontofhisfarm,wherenow

theCountandCountessandalltheirpagesandsoldiersandservantsandcourtiersandchampionsandcarriageswerecomingcloserandcloser.“Whatcouldtheywanttoaskmeabout?”hesaid.

“Gosee,gosee,”Buttercup’smothertoldhim.

“Yougo.Please.”

“No.You.Please.”

“We’llbothgo.”

Theybothwent.Trembling...

“Cows,”theCountsaid,whentheyreachedhisgoldencarriage.“Iwouldliketotalkaboutyourcows.”Hespokefrominside,hisdarkfacedarkenedbyshadow.

“Mycows?”Buttercup’sfathersaid.

“Yes.Yousee,I’mthinkingofstartingalittledairyofmyown,andsinceyourcowsareknownthroughoutthelandasbeingFlorin’sfinest,IthoughtImightpryyoursecretsfromyou.”

“Mycows,”Buttercup’sfathermanagedtorepeat,hopinghewasnotgoingmad.

Becausethetruthwas,andheknewitwell,hehadterriblecows.Foryears,nothingbutcomplaintsfromthepeopleinthevillage.Ifanyoneelsehadhadmilktosell,hewouldhavebeenoutofbusinessinaminute.Nowgranted,thingshadimprovedsincethefarmboyhadcometoslaveforhim—noquestion,thefarmboyhadcertainskills,andthecomplaintswerequitenonexistentnow—butthat

didn’tmakehisthefinestcowsinFlorin.Still,youdidn’targuewiththeCount.Buttercup’sfatherturnedtohiswife.“Whatwouldyousaymysecretis,mydear?”heasked.

“Oh,therearesomany,”shesaid—shewasnodummy,notwhenitcametothequalityoftheirlivestock.

“Youtwoarechildless,are

you?”theCountaskedthen.

“No,sir,”themotheranswered.

“Thenletmeseeher,”theCountwenton—”perhapsshewillbequickerwithheranswersthanherparents.”

“Buttercup,”thefathercalled,turning.“Comeoutplease.”

“Howdidyouknowwehada

daughter?”Buttercup’smotherwondered.

“Aguess.Iassumedithadtobeoneortheother.SomedaysI’mluckierthan—”Hesimplystoppedtalkingthen.

BecauseButtercupmovedintoview,hurryingfromthehousetoherparents.

TheCountleftthecarriage.Gracefully,hemovedtothe

groundandstoodverystill.Hewasabigman,withblackhairandblackeyesandgreatshouldersandablackcapeandgloves.

“Curtsy,dear,”Buttercup’smotherwhispered.

Buttercupdidherbest.

AndtheCountcouldnotstoplookingather.

Understandnow,shewasbarelyratedinthetoptwenty;herhairwasuncombed,unclean;heragewasjustseventeen,sotherewasstill,inoccasionalplaces,theremainsofbabyfat.Nothinghadbeendonetothechild.Nothingwasreallytherebutpotential.

ButtheCountstillcouldnotriphiseyesaway.

“TheCountwouldliketoknowthesecretsbehindourcows’greatness,isthatnotcorrect,sir?”Buttercup’sfathersaid.

TheCountonlynodded,staring.

EvenButtercup’smothernotedacertaintensionintheair.

“Askthefarmboy;hetends

them,”Buttercupsaid.

“Andisthatthefarmboy?”cameanewvoicefrominsidethecarriage.ThentheCountess’sfacewasframedinthecarriagedoorway.

Herlipswerepaintedaperfectred;hergreeneyeslinedinblack.Allthecolorsoftheworldweremutedinhergown.Buttercupwantedtoshieldhereyesfromthe

brilliance.

Buttercup’sfatherglancedbacktowardthelonefigurepeeringaroundthecornerofthehouse.“Itis.”

“Bringhimtome.”

“Heisnotdressedproperlyforsuchanoccasion,”Buttercup’smothersaid.

“Ihaveseenbarechests

before,”theCountessreplied.Thenshecalledout:”You!”andpointedatthefarmboy.“Comehere.”Herfingerssnappedon“here.”

Thefarmboydidashewastold.

Andwhenhewasclose,theCountessleftthecarriage.

WhenhewasafewpacesbehindButtercup,hestopped,

headproperlybowed.Hewasashamedofhisattire,wornbootsandtornbluejeans(bluejeanswereinventedconsiderablybeforemostpeoplesuppose),andhishandsweretighttogetherinalmostagestureofsupplication.

“Haveyouaname,farmboy?”

“Westley,Countess.”

“Well,Westley,perhapsyoucanhelpuswithourproblem.”Shecrossedtohim.Thefabricofhergowngrazedhisskin.“Weareallofusherepassionatelyinterestedinthesubjectofcows.Wearepracticallyreachingthepointoffrenzy,suchisourcuriosity.Why,doyousuppose,Westley,thatthecowsofthisparticularfarmarethefinestinallFlorin.Whatdoyoudoto

them?”

“Ijustfeedthem,Countess.”

“Wellthen,thereitis,themysteryissolved,thesecretout;wecanallrest.Clearly,themagicisinWestley’sfeeding.Showmehowyoudoit,wouldyou,Westley?”

“Feedthecowsforyou,Countess?”

“Brightlad.”

“When?”

“Nowwillbesoonenough,”andsheheldoutherarmtohim.“Leadme,Westley.”

Westleyhadnochoicebuttotakeherarm.Gently.“It’sbehindthehouse,madam;it’sterriblymuddybackthere.Yourgownwillberuined.”

“Iwearthemonlyonce,Westley,andIburntoseeyouinaction.”

Soofftheywenttothecowshed.

Throughoutallthis,theCountkeptwatchingButtercup.

“I’llhelpyou,”ButtercupcalledafterWestley.

“PerhapsI’dbestseejusthow

hedoesit,”theCountdecided.

“Strangethingsarehappening,”Buttercup’sparentssaid,andofftheywenttoo,bringinguptherearofthecow-feedingtrip,watchingtheCount,whowaswatchingtheirdaughter,whowaswatchingtheCountess.

WhowaswatchingWestley.

“Icouldn’tseewhathedidthatwassospecial,”Buttercup’sfathersaid.“Hejustfedthem.”Thiswasafterdinnernow,andthefamilywasaloneagain.

“Theymustlikehimpersonally.IhadacatoncethatonlybloomedwhenIfedhim.Maybeit’sthesamekindofthing.”Buttercup’smotherscrapedthestewleavingsintoabowl.“Here,”

shesaidtoherdaughter.“Westley’swaitingbythebackdoor;takehimhisdinner.”

Buttercupcarriedthebowl,openedthebackdoor.

“Takeit,”shesaid.

Henodded,accepted,startedofftohistreestumptoeat.

“Ididn’texcuseyou,Farm

Boy,”Buttercupbegan.Hestopped,turnedbacktoher.“Idon’tlikewhatyou’redoingwithHorse.Whatyou’renotdoingwithHorseismoretothepoint.Iwanthimcleaned.Tonight.Iwanthishoofsvarnished.Tonight.Iwanthistailplaitedandhisearsmassaged.Thisveryevening.Iwanthisstablesspotless.Now.Iwanthimglistening,andifittakesyouallnight,ittakesyouall

night.”

“Asyouwish.”

Sheslammedthedoorandlethimeatindarkness.

“IthoughtHorsehadbeenlookingverywell,actually,”herfathersaid.

Buttercupsaidnothing.

“Youyourselfsaidso

yesterday,”hermotherremindedher.

“Imustbeovertired,”Buttercupmanaged.“Theexcitementandall.”

“Rest,then,”hermothercautioned.“Terriblethingscanhappenwhenyou’reovertired.Iwasovertiredthenightyourfatherproposed.”Thirty-fourtotwenty-twoandpullingaway.

Buttercupwenttoherroom.Shelayonherbed.Sheclosedhereyes.

AndtheCountesswasstaringatWestley.

Buttercupgotupfrombed.Shetookoffherclothes.Shewashedalittle.Shegotintohernightgown.Sheslippedbetweenthesheets,snuggleddown,closedhereyes.

TheCountesswasstillstaringatWestley!

Buttercupthrewbackthesheets,openedherdoor.Shewenttothesinkbythestoveandpouredherselfacupofwater.Shedrankitdown.Shepouredanothercupandrolleditscoolnessacrossherforehead.Thefeverishfeelingwasstillthere.

Howfeverish?Shefeltfine.

Shewasseventeen,andnotevenacavity.Shedumpedthewaterfirmlyintothesink,turned,marchedbacktoherroom,shutthedoortight,wentbacktobed.Sheclosedhereyes.

TheCountesswouldnotstopstaringatWestley!

Why?WhyintheworldwouldthewomaninallthehistoryofFlorinwhowasinallways

perfectbeinterestedinthefarmboy.Buttercuprolledaroundinbed.Andtheresimplywasnootherwayofexplainingthatlook—shewasinterested.ButtercupshuthereyestightandstudiedthememoryoftheCountess.Clearly,somethingaboutthefarmboyinterestedher.Factswerefacts.Butwhat?Thefarmboyhadeyesliketheseabeforeastorm,butwhocaredabouteyes?Andhehad

paleblondhair,ifyoulikedthatsortofthing.Andhewasbroadenoughintheshoulders,butnotallthatmuchbroaderthantheCount.Andcertainlyhewasmuscular,butanybodywouldbemuscularwhoslavedallday.Andhisskinwasperfectandtan,butthatcameagainfromslaving;inthesunallday,whowouldn’tbetan?Andhewasn’tthatmuchtallerthantheCounteither,

althoughhisstomachwasflatter,butthatwasbecausethefarmboywasyounger.

Buttercupsatupinbed.Itmustbehisteeth.Thefarmboydidhavegoodteeth,givecreditwherecreditwasdue.Whiteandperfect,particularlysetagainstthesun-tannedface.

Couldithavebeenanythingelse?Buttercupconcentrated.

Thegirlsinthevillagefollowedthefarmboyaroundalot,wheneverhewasmakingdeliveries,buttheywereidiots,theyfollowedanything.Andhealwaysignoredthem,becauseifhe’deveropenedhismouth,theywouldhaverealizedthatwasallhehad,justgoodteeth;hewas,afterall,exceptionallystupid.

Itwasreallyverystrangethat

awomanasbeautifulandslenderandwillowyandgraceful,acreatureasperfectlypackaged,assupremelydressedastheCountessshouldbehunguponteeththatway.Buttercupshrugged.Peopleweresurprisinglycomplicated.Butnowshehaditalldiagnosed,deduced,clear.Sheclosedhereyesandsnuggleddownandgotallniceandcomfortable,andpeopledon’t

lookatotherpeoplethewaytheCountesslookedatthefarmboybecauseoftheirteeth.

“Oh,”Buttercupgasped.“Oh,ohdear.”

NowthefarmboywasstaringbackattheCountess.HewasfeedingthecowsandhismuscleswereripplingthewaytheyalwaysdidunderhistannedskinandButtercup

wasstandingtherewatchingasthefarmboylooked,forthefirsttime,deepintotheCountess’seyes.

Buttercupjumpedoutofbedandbegantopaceherroom.Howcouldhe?Oh,itwasallrightifhelookedather,buthewasn’tlookingather,hewaslookingather.

“She’ssoold,”Buttercupmuttered,startingtostorma

bitnow.TheCountesswouldneverseethirtyagainandthatwasfact.Andherdresslookedridiculousoutinthecowshedandthatwasfacttoo.

Buttercupfellontoherbedandclutchedherpillowacrossherbreasts.Thedresswasridiculousbeforeitevergottothecowshed.TheCountesslookedrottentheminutesheleftthecarriage,

withhertoobigpaintedmouthandherlittlepiggypaintedeyesandherpowderedskinand...and...and...

Flailingandthrashing,Buttercupweptandtossedandpacedandweptsomemore,andtherehavebeenthreegreatcasesofjealousysinceDavidofGalileewasfirstafflictedwiththeemotionwhenhecouldno

longerstandthefactthathisneighborSaul’scactusoutshonehisown.(Originally,jealousypertainedsolelytoplants,otherpeople’scactusorginkgoes,or,later,whentherewasgrass,grass,whichiswhy,eventothisday,wesaythatsomeoneisgreenwithjealousy.)Buttercup’scaseratedaclosefourthontheall-timelist.

Itwasaverylongandverygreennight.

Shewasoutsidehishovelbeforedawn.Inside,shecouldhearhimalreadyawake.Sheknocked.Heappeared,stoodinthedoorway.Behindhimshecouldseeatinycandle,openbooks.Hewaited.Shelookedathim.Thenshelookedaway.

Hewastoobeautiful.

“Iloveyou,”Buttercupsaid.“Iknowthismustcomeassomethingofasurprise,sinceallI’veeverdoneisscornyouanddegradeyouandtauntyou,butIhavelovedyouforseveralhoursnow,andeverysecond,more.IthoughtanhouragothatIlovedyoumorethananywomanhaseverlovedaman,butahalfhourafterthatI

knewthatwhatIfeltbeforewasnothingcomparedtowhatIfeltthen.Buttenminutesafterthat,Iunderstoodthatmypreviouslovewasapuddlecomparedtothehighseasbeforeastorm.Youreyesarelikethat,didyouknow?Welltheyare.HowmanyminutesagowasI?Twenty?HadIbroughtmyfeelingsuptothen?Itdoesn’tmatter.”Buttercupstillcouldnotlookathim.Thesunwas

risingbehindhernow;shecouldfeeltheheatonherback,anditgavehercourage.“Iloveyousomuchmorenowthantwentyminutesagothattherecannotbecomparison.Iloveyousomuchmorenowthanwhenyouopenedyourhoveldoor,therecannotbecomparison.Thereisnoroominmybodyforanythingbutyou.Myarmsloveyou,myearsadoreyou,mykneesshakewith

blindaffection.Mymindbegsyoutoaskitsomethingsoitcanobey.Doyouwantmetofollowyoufortherestofyourdays?Iwilldothat.Doyouwantmetocrawl?Iwillcrawl.Iwillbequietforyouorsingforyou,orifyouarehungry,letmebringyoufood,orifyouhavethirstandnothingwillquenchitbutArabianwine,IwillgotoAraby,eventhoughitisacrosstheworld,andbringa

bottlebackforyourlunch.AnythingthereisthatIcandoforyou,Iwilldoforyou;anythingthereisthatIcannotdo,Iwilllearntodo.IknowIcannotcompetewiththeCountessinskillsorwisdomorappeal,andIsawthewayshelookedatyou.AndIsawthewayyoulookedather.Butremember,please,thatsheisoldandhasotherinterests,whileIamseventeenandformethereis

onlyyou.DearestWestley—I’venevercalledyouthatbefore,haveI?—Westley,Westley,Westley,Westley,Westley—darlingWestley,adoredWestley,sweetperfectWestley,whisperthatIhaveachancetowinyourlove.”Andwiththat,shedaredthebravestthingshe’deverdone:shelookedrightintohiseyes.

Heclosedthedoorinherface.

Withoutaword.

Withoutaword.

Buttercupran.Shewhirledandburstawayandthetearscamebitterly;shecouldnotsee,shestumbled,sheslammedintoatreetrunk,fell,rose,ranon;hershoulderthrobbedfromwherethetreetrunkhither,andthepainwasstrong,butnotenoughtoeasehershatteredheart.Back

toherroomshefled,backtoherpillow.Safebehindthelockeddoor,shedrenchedtheworldwithtears.

Notevenoneword.Hehadn’thadthedecencyforthat.“Sorry,”hecouldhavesaid.Wouldithaveruinedhimtosay“sorry”?“Toolate,”hecouldhavesaid.

Whycouldn’theatleasthavesaidsomething?

Buttercupthoughtveryhardaboutthatforamoment.Andsuddenlyshehadtheanswer:hedidn’ttalkbecausetheminuteheopenedhismouth,thatwasit.Surehewashandsome,butdumb?Theminutehehadexercisedhistongue,itwouldhaveallbeenover.

“Duhhhhhhh.”

That’swhathewouldhave

said.ThatwasthekindofthingWestleycameoutwithwhenhewasfeelingreallysharp.“Duhhhhhhh,tanks,Buttercup.”

Buttercupdriedhertearsandbegantosmile.Shetookadeepbreath,heavedasigh.Itwasallpartofgrowingup.Yougottheselittlequickpassions,youblinked,andtheyweregone.Youforgavefaults,foundperfection,fell

madly;thenthenextdaythesuncameupanditwasover.Chalkituptoexperience,oldgirl,andgetonwiththemorning.Buttercupstood,madeherbed,changedherclothes,combedherhair,smiled,andburstoutagaininafitofweeping.Becausetherewasalimittojusthowmuchyoucouldlietoyourself.

Westleywasn’tstupid.

Oh,shecouldpretendhewas.Shecouldlaughabouthisdifficultieswiththelanguage.Shecouldchideherselfforhersillyinfatuationwithadullard.Thetruthwassimplythis:hehadaheadonhisshoulders.Withabraininsideeverybitasgoodashisteeth.Therewasareasonhehadn’tspokenandithadnothingtodowithgraycellsworking.Hehadn’tspokenbecause,really,therewasnothingfor

himtosay.

Hedidn’tloveherbackandthatwasthat.

ThetearsthatkeptButtercupcompanytheremainderofthedaywerenotatalllikethosethathadblindedherintothetreetrunk.Thosewerenoisyandhot;theypulsed.Theseweresilentandsteadyandalltheydidwasremindherthatshewasn’tgoodenough.She

wasseventeen,andeverymaleshe’deverknownhadcrumbledatherfeetanditmeantnothing.Theonetimeitmattered,shewasn’tgoodenough.Allsheknewreallywasriding,andhowwasthattointerestamanwhenthatmanhadbeenlookedatbytheCountess?

Itwasduskwhensheheardfootstepsoutsideherdoor.Thenaknock.Buttercup

driedhereyes.Anotherknock.“Whoeveristhat?”Buttercupyawnedfinally.

“Westley.”

Buttercuploungedacrossthebed.“Westley?”shesaid.“DoIknowanyWest—oh,FarmBoy,it’syou,howdroll!”Shewenttoherdoor,unlockedit,andsaid,inherfanciesttone,“I’meversogladyoustoppedby,I’ve

beenfeelingjusteversoslummyaboutthelittlejokeIplayedonyouthismorning.OfcourseyouknewIwasn’tforamomentserious,oratleastIthoughtyouknew,butthen,justwhenyoustartedclosingthedoorIthoughtforonedrearyinstantthatperhapsI’ddonemylittlejestabittooconvincinglyand,poordearthing,youmighthavethoughtImeantwhatIsaidwhenofcourseweboth

knowthetotalimpossibilityofthateverhappening.”

“I’vecometosaygood-by.”

Buttercup’sheartbucked,butshestillheldtofancy.“You’regoingtosleep,youmean,andyou’vecometosaygoodnight?Howthoughtfulofyou,FarmBoy,showingmethatyouforgivemeformylittlemorning’stease;Icertainlyappreciate

yourthoughtfulnessand—”

Hecutheroff.“I’mleaving.”

“Leaving?”Thefloorbegantoripple.Sheheldtothedoorframe.“Now?”

“Yes.”

“BecauseofwhatIsaidthismorning?”

“Yes.”

“Ifrightenedyouaway,didn’tI?Icouldkillmytongue.”Sheshookherheadandshookherhead.“Well,it’sdone;you’vemadeyourdecision.Justrememberthis:Iwon’ttakeyoubackwhenshe’sdonewithyou,Idon’tcareifyoubeg.”

Hejustlookedather.

Buttercuphurriedon.“Justbecauseyou’rebeautifuland

perfect,it’smadeyouconceited.Youthinkpeoplecan’tgettiredofyou,wellyou’rewrong,theycan,andshewill,besidesyou’retoopoor.”

“I’mgoingtoAmerica.Toseekmyfortune.”(ThiswasjustafterAmericabutlongafterfortunes.)“AshipsailssoonfromLondon.ThereisgreatopportunityinAmerica.I’mgoingtotakeadvantage

ofit.I’vebeentrainingmyself.Inmyhovel.I’vetaughtmyselfnottoneedsleep.Afewhoursonly.I’lltakeaten-hour-a-dayjobandthenI’lltakeanotherten-hour-a-dayjobandI’llsaveeverypennyfrombothexceptwhatIneedtoeattokeepstrong,andwhenIhaveenoughI’llbuyafarmandbuildahouseandmakeabedbigenoughfortwo.”

“You’rejustcrazyifyouthinkshe’sgoingtobehappyinsomerun-downfarmhouseinAmerica.Notwithwhatshespendsonclothes.”

“StoptalkingabouttheCountess!Asaspecialfavor.Beforeyoudrivememaaaaaaaad.”

Buttercuplookedathim.

“Don’tyouunderstand

anythingthat’sgoingon?”

Buttercupshookherhead.

Westleyshookhistoo.“Youneverhavebeenthebrightest,Iguess.”

“Doyouloveme,Westley?Isthatit?”

Hecouldn’tbelieveit.“DoIloveyou?MyGod,ifyourlovewereagrainofsand,

minewouldbeauniverseofbeaches.Ifyourlovewere—”

“Idon’tunderstandthatfirstoneyet,”Buttercupinterrupted.Shewasstartingtogetveryexcitednow.“Letmegetthisstraight.Areyousayingmyloveisthesizeofagrainofsandandyoursisthisotherthing?Imagesjustconfusemeso—isthisuniversalbusinessofyoursbiggerthanmysand?Help

me,Westley.Ihavethefeelingwe’reonthevergeofsomethingjustterriblyimportant.”

“Ihavestayedtheseyearsinmyhovelbecauseofyou.Ihavetaughtmyselflanguagesbecauseofyou.IhavemademybodystrongbecauseIthoughtyoumightbepleasedbyastrongbody.Ihavelivedmylifewithonlytheprayerthatsomesuddendawnyou

mightglanceinmydirection.Ihavenotknownamomentinyearswhenthesightofyoudidnotsendmyheartcareeningagainstmyribcage.Ihavenotknownanightwhenyourvisagedidnotaccompanymetosleep.Therehasnotbeenamorningwhenyoudidnotflutterbehindmywakingeyelids....Isanyofthisgettingthroughtoyou,Buttercup,ordoyouwantme

togoonforawhile?”

“Neverstop.”

“Therehasnotbeen—”

“Ifyou’reteasingme,Westley,I’mjustgoingtokillyou.”

“HowcanyouevendreamImightbeteasing?”

“Well,youhaven’toncesaid

youlovedme.”

“That’sallyouneed?Easy.Iloveyou.Okay?Wantitlouder?Iloveyou.Spellitout,shouldI?Iell-oh-vee-eewhy-oh-you.Wantitbackward?YouloveI.”

“Youareteasingnow;aren’tyou?”

“Alittlemaybe;I’vebeensayingitsolongtoyou,you

justwouldn’tlisten.Everytimeyousaid‘FarmBoydothis’youthoughtIwasanswering‘Asyouwish’butthat’sonlybecauseyouwerehearingwrong.‘Iloveyou’waswhatitwas,butyouneverheard,andyouneverheard.”

“Ihearyounow,andIpromiseyouthis:Iwillneverloveanyoneelse.OnlyWestley.UntilIdie.”

Henodded,tookastepaway.“I’llsendforyousoon.Believeme.”

“WouldmyWestleyeverlie?”

Hetookanotherstep.“I’mlate.Imustgo.IhateitbutImust.TheshipsailssoonandLondonisfar.”

“Iunderstand.”

Hereachedoutwithhisrighthand.

Buttercupfounditveryhardtobreathe.

“Good-by.”

Shemanagedtoraiseherrighthandtohis.

Theyshook.

“Good-by,”hesaidagain.

Shemadealittlenod.

Hetookathirdstep,notturning.

Shewatchedhim.

Heturned.

Andthewordsrippedoutofher:”Withoutonekiss?”

Theyfellintoeachother’sarms.

Therehavebeenfivegreatkissessince1642B.C.,whenSaulandDelilahKorn’sinadvertentdiscoverysweptacrossWesterncivilization.(Beforethencoupleshookedthumbs.)Andthepreciseratingofkissesisaterriblydifficultthing,oftenleadingtogreatcontroversy,becausealthougheveryoneagreeswiththeformulaofaffection

timespuritytimesintensitytimesduration,noonehaseverbeencompletelysatisfiedwithhowmuchweighteachelementshouldreceive.Butonanysystem,therearefivethateveryoneagreesdeservefullmarks.

Well,thisoneleftthemallbehind.

Thefirstmorningafter

Westley’sdeparture,Buttercupthoughtshewasentitledtodonothingmorethansitaroundmopingandfeelingsorryforherself.Afterall,theloveofherlifehadfled,lifehadnomeaning,howcouldyoufacethefuture,etcetera,etcetera.

ButafterabouttwosecondsofthatsherealizedthatWestleywasoutintheworldnow,gettingnearerand

nearertoLondon,andwhatifabeautifulcitygirlcaughthisfancywhileshewasjustbackheremoldering?Or,worse,whatifhegottoAmericaandworkedhisjobsandbuilthisfarmandmadetheirbedandsentforherandwhenshegottherehewouldlookatherandsay,“I’msendingyouback,themopinghasdestroyedyoureyes,theself-pityhastakenyourskin;you’reaslobby-looking

creature,I’mmarryinganIndiangirlwholivesinateepeenearbyandisalwaysinthepeakofcondition.”

Buttercuprantoherbedroommirror.“Oh,Westley,”shesaid,“Imustneverdisappointyou,”andshehurrieddownstairstowhereherparentsweresquabbling.(Sixteentothirteen,andnotpastbreakfastyet.)“Ineedyouradvice,”sheinterrupted.

“WhatcanIdotoimprovemypersonalappearance.”

“Startbybathing,”herfathersaid.

“Anddosomethingwithyourhairwhileyou’reatit,”hermothersaid.

“Unearththeterritorybehindyourears.”

“Neglectnotyourknees.”

“Thatwilldonicelyforstarters,”Buttercupsaid.Sheshookherhead.“Gracious,butitisn’teasybeingtidy.”Undaunted,shesettowork.

Everymorningsheawoke,ifpossiblebydawn,andgotthefarmchoresfinishedimmediately.Therewasmuchtobedonenow,withWestleygone,andmorethanthat,eversincetheCounthadvisited,everyoneinthearea

hadincreasedhismilkorder.Sotherewasnotimeforself-improvementuntilwellintotheafternoon.

Butthenshereallysettowork.Firstagoodcoldbath.Then,whileherhairwasdrying,shewouldslaveafterfixingherfigurefaults(oneofherelbowswasjusttoobony,theoppositewristnotbonyenough).Andexercisewhatremainedofherbabyfat

(littleleftnow;shewasnearlyeighteen).Andbrushandbrushherhair.

Herhairwasthecolorofautumn,andithadneverbeencut,soathousandstrokestooktime,butshedidn’tmind,becauseWestleyhadneverseenitcleanlikethisandwouldn’thebesurprisedwhenshesteppedofftheboatinAmerica.Herskinwasthecolorofwintrycream,and

shescrubbedhereveryinchwellpastglistening,andthatwasn’tmuchfunreally,butwouldn’tWestleybepleasedwithhowcleanshewasasshesteppedofftheboatinAmerica.

Andveryquicklynow,herpotentialbegantoberealized.Fromtwentieth,shejumpedwithintwoweekstofifteenth,anunheard-ofchangeinsuchatime.Butthreeweeksafter

thatshewasalreadyninthandmoving.Thecompetitionwastremendousnow,butthedayaftershewasninthathree-pageletterarrivedfromWestleyinLondonandjustreadingitoverputheruptoeighth.Thatwasreallywhatwasdoingitforhermorethananything—herloveforWestleywouldnotstopgrowing,andpeopleweredazzledwhenshedeliveredmilkinthemorning.Some

peoplewereonlyabletogapeather,butmanytalkedandthosethatdidfoundherwarmerandgentlerthanshehadeverbeenbefore.Eventhevillagegirlswouldnodandsmilenow,andsomeofthemwouldaskafterWestley,whichwasamistakeunlessyouhappenedtohavealotofsparetime,becausewhensomeoneaskedButtercuphowWestleywas—well,shetoldthem.Hewas

supremeasusual;hewasspectacular;hewassingularlyfabulous.Oh,shecouldgoonforhours.Sometimesitgotalittletoughforthelistenerstomaintainstrictattention,buttheydidtheirbest,sinceButtercuplovedhimsocompletely.

WhichwaswhyWestley’sdeathhitherthewayitdid.

Hehadwrittentoherjust

beforehesailedforAmerica.TheQueen’sPridewashisship,andhelovedher.(Thatwasthewayhissentencesalwayswent:ItisrainingtodayandIloveyou.MycoldisbetterandIloveyou.SayhellotoHorseandIloveyou.Likethat.)

Thentherewerenoletters,butthatwasnatural;hewasatsea.Thensheheard.Shecamehomefromdelivering

themilkandherparentswerewooden.“OfftheCarolinacoast,”herfatherwhispered.

Hermotherwhispered,“Withoutwarning.Atnight.”

“What?”fromButtercup.

“Pirates,”saidherfather.

Buttercupthoughtshe’dbettersitdown.

Quietintheroom.

“He’sbeentakenprisonerthen?”Buttercupmanaged.

Hermothermadea“no.”

“ItwasRoberts,”herfathersaid.“TheDreadPirateRoberts.”

“Oh,”Buttercupsaid.“Theonewhoneverleavessurvivors.”

“Yes,”herfathersaid.

Quietintheroom.

SuddenlyButtercupwastalkingveryfast:“Washestabbed?...Didhedrown?...Didtheycuthisthroatasleep?...Didtheywakehim,doyousuppose?...Perhapstheywhippedhimdead....”Shestoodupthen.“I’mgettingsilly,forgiveme.”Sheshook

herhead.“Asifthewaytheygothimmattered.Excuseme,please.”Withthatshehurriedtoherroom.

Shestayedtheremanydays.Atfirstherparentstriedtolureher,butshewouldnothaveit.Theytooktoleavingfoodoutsideherroom,andshetookbitsandshreds,enoughtostayalive.Therewasnevernoiseinside,nowailing,nobittersounds.

Andwhensheatlastcameout,hereyesweredry.Herparentsstaredupfromtheirsilentbreakfastather.Theybothstartedtorisebutsheputahandout,stoppedthem.“Icancareformyself,please,”andshesetaboutgettingsomefood.Theywatchedherclosely.

Inpointoffact,shehadneverlookedaswell.Shehadenteredherroomasjustan

impossiblylovelygirl.Thewomanwhoemergedwasatriflethinner,agreatdealwiser,anoceansadder.Thisoneunderstoodthenatureofpain,andbeneaththegloryofherfeatures,therewascharacter,andasureknowledgeofsuffering.

Shewaseighteen.Shewasthemostbeautifulwomaninahundredyears.Shedidn’tseemtocare.

“You’reallright?”hermotherasked.

Buttercupsippedhercocoa.“Fine,”shesaid.

“You’resure?”herfatherwondered.

“Yes,”Buttercupreplied.Therewasaverylongpause.“ButImustneverloveagain.”

Sheneverdid.

Two-THEGROOM

Thisismyfirstmajorexcision.ChapterOne,TheBride,isalmostinitsentiretyaboutthebride.ChapterTwo,TheGroom,onlypicksupPrinceHumperdinckinthelastfewpages.

ThischapteriswheremysonJasonstoppedreading,andthereissimplynowayofblaminghim.ForwhatMorgensternhasdoneisopenthischapterwithsixty-sixpagesofFlorinesehistory.Moreaccurately,itisthehistoryoftheFlorinesecrown.

Dreary?Nottobebelieved.

Whywouldamasterof

narrativestophisnarrativedeadbeforeithasmuchchancetobegingenerating?Noknownanswer.AllIcanguessisthatforMorgenstern,therealnarrativewasnotButtercupandtheremarkablethingssheendures,but,rather,thehistoryofthemonarchyandothersuchstuff.Whenthisversioncomesout,IexpecteveryFlorinesescholaralivetoslaughterme.(Columbia

UniversityhasnotonlytheleadingFlorineseexpertsinAmerica,butalsodirecttiestotheNewYorkTimesBookReview.Ican’thelpthat,andIonlyhopetheyunderstandmyintentionshereareinnowaymeanttobedestructiveofMorgenstern’svision.)

PrinceHumperdinckwasshapedlikeabarrel.Hischestwasagreatbarrelchest,his

thighsmightybarrelthighs.Hewasnottallbutheweighedcloseto250pounds,brickhard.Hewalkedlikeacrab,sidetoside,andprobablyifhehadwantedtobeaballetdancer,hewouldhavebeendoomedtoamiserablelifeofendlessfrustration.Buthedidn’twanttobeaballetdancer.Hewasn’tinthatmuchofahurrytobekingeither.Evenwar,atwhichheexcelled,

tooksecondplaceinhisaffections.Everythingtooksecondplaceinhisaffections.

Huntingwashislove.

Hemadeitapracticenevertoletadaygobywithoutkillingsomething.Itdidn’tmuchmatterwhat.Whenhefirstgrewdedicated,hekilledonlybigthings:elephantsorpythons.Butthen,ashisskillsincreased,hebeganto

enjoythesufferingoflittlebeaststoo.Hecouldhappilyspendanafternoontrackingaflyingsquirrelacrossforestsorarainbowtroutdownrivers.Oncehewasdetermined,oncehehadfocusedonanobject,thePrincewasrelentless.Henevertired,neverwavered,neitheratenorslept.Itwasdeathchessandhewasinternationalgrandmaster.

Inthebeginning,hetraversedtheworldforopposition.Buttravelconsumedtime,shipsandhorsesbeingwhattheywere,andthetimeawayfromFlorinwasworrying.Therealwayshadtobeamaleheirtothethrone,andaslongashisfatherwasalive,therewasnoproblem.ButsomedayhisfatherwoulddieandthenthePrincewouldbethekingandhewouldhavetoselectaqueentosupplyanheirfor

thedayofhisowndeath.

Sotoavoidtheproblemofabsence,PrinceHumperdinckbuilttheZooofDeath.HedesignedithimselfwithCountRugen’shelp,andhesenthishirelingsacrosstheworldtostockitforhim.Itwaskeptbrimmingwiththingsthathecouldhunt,anditreallywasn’tlikeanyotheranimalsanctuaryanywhere.Inthefirstplace,therewere

neveranyvisitors.Onlythealbinokeeper,tomakesurethebeastswereproperlyfed,andthattherewasneveranysicknessorweaknessinside.

TheotherthingabouttheZoowasthatitwasunderground.ThePrincepickedthespothimself,inthequietest,remotestcornerofthecastlegrounds.Andhedecreedthereweretobefivelevels,allwiththeproperneedsfor

hisindividualenemies.Onthefirstlevel,heputenemiesofspeed:wilddogs,cheetahs,hummingbirds.Onthesecondlevelbelongedtheenemiesofstrength:anacondasandrhinosandcrocodilesofovertwentyfeet.Thethirdlevelwasforpoisoners:spittingcobras,jumpingspiders,deathbatsgalore.Thefourthlevelwasthekingdomofthemostdangerous,theenemiesoffear:theshrieking

tarantula(theonlyspidercapableofsound),thebloodeagle(theonlybirdthatthrivedonhumanflesh),plus,initsownblackpool,thesuckingsquid.Eventhealbinoshiveredduringfeedingtimeonthefourthlevel.

Thefifthlevelwasempty.

ThePrinceconstructeditinthehopesofsomedayfinding

somethingworthy,somethingasdangerousandfierceandpowerfulashewas.

Unlikely.Still,hewasaneternaloptimist,sohekeptthegreatcageofthefifthlevelalwaysinreadiness.

Andtherewasreallymorethanenoughthatwaslethalontheotherfourlevelstokeepamanhappy.ThePrincewouldsometimes

choosehispreybyluck—hehadagreatwheelwithaspinnerandontheoutsideofthewheelwasapictureofeveryanimalintheZooandhewouldtwirlthespinneratbreakfast,andwhereveritstopped,thealbinowouldreadythatbreed.Sometimeshewouldchoosebymood:“Ifeelquicktoday;fetchmeacheetah”or“Ifeelstrongtoday,releasearhino.”Andwhateverherequested,of

course,wasdone.

HewasringingdownthecurtainonanorangutanwhenthebusinessoftheKing’shealthmadeitsultimateintrusion.Itwasmidafternoon,andthePrincehadbeengrapplingwiththegiantbeastsincemorning,andfinally,afterallthesehours,thehairythingwasweakening.Againandagain,themonkeytriedtobite,a

suresignoffailureofstrengthinthearms.ThePrincewardedofftheattemptedbiteswithease,andtheapewasheavingatthechestnow,desperateforair.ThePrincemadeacrablikestepsidewise,thenanother,thendartedforward,spunthegreatbeastintohisarms,beganapplyingpressuretothespine.(Thiswasalltakingplaceintheapepit,wherethePrincehadhispleasurewith

anysimians.)Fromupabovenow,CountRugen’svoiceinterrupted.“Thereisnews,”theCountsaid.

Frombattle,thePrincereplied.“Cannotitwait?”

“Forhowlong?”askedtheCount.

CRA

CK

Theorangutanfelllikearagdoll.“Now,whatisallthis,”thePrincereplied,steppingpastthedeadbeast,mountingtheladderoutofthepit.

“Yourfatherhashadhisannualphysical,”theCountsaid.“Ihavethereport.”

“And?”

“Yourfatherisdying.”

“Drat!”saidthePrince.“ThatmeansIshallhavetogetmarried.”

Three - THECOURTSHIP

Fourofthemmetinthegreatcouncilroomofthecastle.

PrinceHumperdinck,hisconfidant,CountRugen,hisfather,agingKingLotharon,andQueenBella,hisevilstepmother.

QueenBellawasshapedlikeagumdrop.Andcoloredlikearaspberry.Shewaseasilythemostbelovedpersoninthekingdom,andhadbeenmarriedtotheKinglongbeforehebeganmumbling.PrinceHumperdinckwasbut

achildthen,andsincetheonlystepmothersheknewweretheevilonesfromstories,healwayscalledBellathator“E.S.”forshort.

“Allright,”thePrincebeganwhentheywereallassembled.“WhodoImarry?Let’spickabrideandgetitdone.”

AgingKingLotharonsaid,“I’vebeenthinkingit’sreally

gettingtobeabouttimeforHumperdincktopickabride.”Hedidn’tactuallysomuchsaythatasmumbleit:“I’vebeeemumbbblemumbbbleHumpmummmbleengamumble.”

QueenBellawastheonlyonewhobotheredferretingouthismeaningsanymore.“Youcouldn’tberighter,dear,”shesaid,andshepattedhisroyalrobes.

“Whatdidhesay?”

“Hesaidwhoeverwedecidedonwouldbegettingathunderouslyhandsomeprinceforalifetimecompanion.”

“Tellhimhe’slookingquitewellhimself,”thePrincereturned.

“We’veonlyjustchangedmiraclemen,”theQueen

said.“Thataccountsfortheimprovement.”

“YoumeanyoufiredMiracleMax?”PrinceHumperdincksaid.“Ithoughthewastheonlyoneleft.”

“No,wefoundanotheroneupinthemountainsandhe’squiteextraordinary.Old,ofcourse,butthen,whowantsayoungmiracleman?”

“TellhimI’vechangedmiraclemen,”KingLotharonsaid.Itcameout:“Tellmumblemirumblemumble.”

“Whatdidhesay?”thePrincewondered.

“Hesaidamanofyourimportancecouldn’tmarryjustanyprincess.”

“True,true,”PrinceHumperdincksaid.He

sighed.Deeply.“IsupposethatmeansNoreena.”

“Thatwouldcertainlybeaperfectmatchpolitically,”CountRugenallowed.PrincessNoreenawasfromGuilder,thecountrythatlayjustacrossFlorinChannel.(InGuilder,theyputitdifferently;forthem,FlorinwasthecountryontheothersideoftheChannelofGuilder.)Inanycase,thetwo

countrieshadstayedaliveoverthecenturiesmainlybywarringoneachother.TherehadbeentheOliveWar,theTunaFishDiscrepancy,whichalmostbankruptedbothnations,theRomanRift,whichdidsendthembothintoinsolvency,onlytobefollowedbytheDiscordoftheEmeralds,inwhichtheybothgotrichagain,chieflybybandingtogetherforabriefperiodandrobbingeverybody

withinsailingdistance.

“Iwonderifshehunts,though,”saidHumperdinck.“Idon’tcaresomuchaboutpersonality,justsothey’regoodwithaknife.”

“Isawherseveralyearsago,”QueenBellasaid.“Sheseemedlovely,thoughhardlymuscular.Iwoulddescribehermoreasaknitterthanadoer.Butagain,lovely.”

“Skin?”askedthePrince.

“Marbleish,”answeredtheQueen.

“Lips?”

“Numberorcolor?”askedtheQueen.

“Color,E.S.”

“Roseish.Cheeksthesame.Eyeslargeish,oneblue,one

green.”

“Hmmm,”saidHumperdinck.“Andform?”

“Hourglassish.Alwaysclotheddivineishly.And,ofcourse,famousthroughoutGuilderforthelargesthatcollectionintheworld.”

“Well,let’sbringheroverhereforsomestateoccasionandhavealookather,”said

thePrince.

“Isn’tthereaprincessinGuilderthatwouldbeabouttherightage?”saidtheKing.Itcameout:“Mum-cessGuilble,abumblemumble?”

“Areyouneverwrong?”saidQueenBella,andshesmiledintotheweakeningeyesofherruler.

“Whatdidhesay?”wondered

thePrince.

“ThatIshouldleavethisverydaywithaninvitation,”repliedtheQueen.

SobeganthegreatvisitofthePrincessNoreena.

Meagain.Ofallthecutsinthisversion,Ifeelmostjustifiedinmakingthisone.Justasthechapterson

whalinginMoby-Dickcanbeomittedbyallbutthemostpunishment-lovingreaders,sothepackingscenesthatMorgensterndetailsherearereallybestleftalone.That’swhathappensforthenextfifty-sixandahalfpagesofThePrincessBride:packing.(Iincludeunpackingscenesinthesamecategory.)

Whathappensisjustthis:QueenBellapacksmostof

herwardrobe(11pages)andtravelstoGuilder(2pages).InGuildersheunpacks(5pages),thentenderstheinvitationtoPrincessNoreena(1page).PrincessNoreenaaccepts(1page).ThenPrincessNoreenapacksallherclothesandhats(23pages)and,together,thePrincessandtheQueentravelbacktoFlorinfortheannualcelebrationofthefoundingofFlorinCity(1page).They

reachKingLotharon’scastle,wherePrincessNoreenaisshownherquarters(1/2page)andunpacksallthesameclothesandhatswe’vejustseenherpackoneandahalfpagesbefore(12pages).

It’sabafflingpassage.IspoketoProfessorBongiorno,ofColumbiaUniversity,theheadoftheirFlorineseDepartment,andhesaidthiswasthemost

deliciouslysatiricchapterintheentirebook,Morgenstern’spoint,apparently,beingsimplytoshowthatalthoughFlorinconsidereditselfvastlymorecivilizedthanGuilder,Guilderwas,infact,thefarmoresophisticatedcountry,asindicatedbythesuperiorityinnumberandqualityoftheladies’clothes.I’mnotabouttoarguewithafullprofessor,butifyoueverhaveareally

unbreakablecaseofinsomnia,doyourselfafavorandstartreadingChapterThreeoftheuncutversion.

Anyway,thingspickupabitoncethePrinceandPrincessmeetandspendtheday.Noreenadidhave,asadvertised,marbleishskin,roseishlipsandcheeks,largeisheyes,oneblue,onegreen,hourglassishform,andeasilythemostextraordinary

collectionofhatseverassembled.Widebrimmedandnarrow,sometall,somenot,somefancy,somecolorful,someplaid,someplain.Shedotedonchanginghatsateveryopportunity.WhenshemetthePrince,shewaswearingonehat,whenheaskedherforastroll,sheexcusedherself,shortlytoreturnwearinganother,equallyflattering.Thingswentonlikethisthroughout

theday,butitseemstometobeabittoomuchcourtetiquetteformodernreaders,soit’snottilltheeveningmealthatIreturntotheoriginaltext.

DinnerwasheldintheGreatHallofLotharon’scastle.Ordinarily,theywouldallhavesuppedinthediningroom,but,foraneventofthisimportance,thatplacewas

simplytoosmall.SotableswereplacedendtoendalongthecenteroftheGreatHall,anenormousdraftyspotthatwasgiventobeingchillyeveninthesummertime.Thereweremanydoorsandgiantentranceways,andthewindgustssometimesreachedgaleforce.

Thisnightwasmoretypicalthanless;thewindswhistledconstantlyandthecandles

constantlyneededrelighting,andsomeofthemoredaringlydressedladiesshivered.ButPrinceHumperdinckdidn’tseemtomind,andinFlorin,ifhedidn’t,youdidn’teither.

At8:23thereseemedeverychanceofalastingalliancestartingbetweenFlorinandGuilder.

At8:24thetwonationswere

veryclosetowar.

Whathappenedwassimplythis:at8:23andfiveseconds,themaincourseoftheeveningwasreadyforserving.Themaincoursewasessenceofbrandiedpig,andyouneedalotofittoservefivehundredpeople.Soinordertohastentheserving,agiantdoubledoorthatledfromthekitchentotheGreatHallwasopened.Thegiant

doubledoorwasonthenorthendoftheroom.Thedoorremainedopenthroughoutwhatfollowed.

Theproperwineforessenceofbrandiedpigwasinreadinessbehindthedoubledoorthatledeventuallytothewinecellar.Thisdoubledoorwasopenedat8:23andtensecondsinorderthatthedozenwinestewardscouldgettheirkegsquicklytothe

eaters.Thisdoubledoor,itmightbenoted,wasatthesouthendoftheroom.

Atthispoint,anunusuallystrongcrosswindwasclearlyevident.PrinceHumperdinckdidnotnotice,becauseatthatmoment,hewaswhisperingwiththePrincessNoreenaofGuilder.Hewascheektocheekwithher,hisheadunderherwide-brimmedblue-greenhat,whichbrought

outtheexquisitecolorinbothofherlargeisheyes.

At8:23andtwentyseconds,KingLotharonmadehissomewhatbelatedentrancetothedinner.Hewasalwaysbelatednow,hadbeenforyears,andinthepastpeoplehadbeenknowntostarvebeforehegotthere.Butoflate,mealsjustbeganwithouthim,whichwasfinewithhim,sincehisnewmiracle

manhadtakenhimoffmealsanyway.TheKingenteredthroughtheKing’sDoor,ahugehingedthingthatonlyhewasallowedtouse.Ittookseveralservantsinexcellentconditiontoworkit.ItshouldbereportedthattheKing’sDoorwasalwaysintheeastsideofanyroom,sincetheKingwas,ofallpeople,closesttothesun.

Whathappenedthenhasbeen

variouslydescribedasanortherorasou’wester,dependingonwhereyouwereseatedintheroomwhenitstruck,butallhandsagreeononething:at8:23andtwenty-fiveseconds,itwasprettygustyintheGreatHall.

Mostofthecandleslosttheirflamesandtoppled,whichwasonlyimportantbecauseafewofthemfell,stillburning,intothesmallkerosenecups

thatwereplacedhereandthereacrossthebanquettablesothattheessenceofbrandiedpigcouldbeproperlyflamingwhenserved.Servantsrushedinfromallovertoputouttheflames,andtheydidagoodenoughjob,consideringthateverythingintheroomwasflyingthisway,thatway,fansandscarvesandhats.

Particularlythehatof

PrincessNoreena.

Itflewofftothewallbehindher,whereshequicklyretrieveditandputitproperlyon.Thatwasat8:23andfiftyseconds.Itwastoolate.

At8:23:55PrinceHumperdinckroseroaring,theveinsinhisthicknecketchedlikehemp.Therewerestillflamesinsomeplaces,andtheirrednessreddened

hisalreadyblood-filledface.Helooked,ashestoodthere,likeabarrelonfire.HethensaidtoPrincessNoreenaofGuilderthefivewordsthatbroughtthenationstothebrink.

“Madam,feelfreetoflee!”

AndwiththathestormedfromtheGreatHall.Thetimewasthen8:24.

PrinceHumperdinckmadehisangrywaytothebalconyabovetheGreatHallandstareddownatthechaos.Thefireswerestillinplacesflamingred,guestswerepouringoutthroughthedoorsandPrincessNoreena,hattedandfaint,wasbeingcarriedbyherservantsfarfromview.

QueenBellafinallycaughtupwiththePrince,whostormedalongthebalconyclearlynot

yetincontrol.“Idowishyouhadn’tbeenquitesoblunt,”QueenBellasaid.

ThePrincewhirledonher.“I’mnotmarryinganybaldprincess,andthat’sthat!”

“Noonewouldknow,”QueenBellaexplained.“Shehashatsevenforsleeping.”

“Iwouldknow,”criedthePrince.“Didyouseethe

candlelightreflectingoffherskull?”

“ButthingswouldhavebeensogoodwithGuilder,”theQueensaid,addressingherselfhalftothePrince,halftoCountRugen,whonowjoinedthem.

“ForgetaboutGuilder.I’llconqueritsometime.I’vebeenwantingtoeversinceIwasakidanyway.”He

approachedtheQueen.“Peoplesnickerbehindyourbackwhenyou’vegotabaldwife,andIcandowithoutthat,thankyou.You’lljusthavetofindsomeoneelse.”

“Who?”

“Findmesomebody,sheshouldjustlooknice,that’sall.”

“ThatNoreenahasnohair,”

KingLotharonsaid,puffinguptotheothers.“Nor-umblemumblehumble.”

“Thankyouforpointingthatout,dear,”saidQueenBella.

“Idon’tthinkHumperdinckwilllikethat,”saidtheKing.“DumbleHumbleMumble.”

ThenCountRugensteppedforward.“Youwantsomeonewholooksnice;butwhatif

she’sacommoner?”

“Thecommonerthebetter,”PrinceHumperdinckreplied,pacingagain.

“Whatifshecan’thunt?”theCountwenton.

“Idon’tcareifshecan’tspell,”thePrincesaid.Suddenlyhestoppedandfacedthemall.“I’lltellyouwhatIwant,”hebeganthen.

“Iwantsomeonewhoissobeautifulthatwhenyouseeheryousay,‘Wow,thatHumperdinckmustbesomekindoffellatohaveawifelikethat.’Searchthecountry,searchtheworld,justfindher!”

CountRugencouldonlysmile.“Sheisalreadyfound,”hesaid.

Itwasdawnwhenthetwohorsemenreinedinatthehilltop.CountRugenrodeasplendidblackhorse,large,perfect,powerful.ThePrincerodeoneofhiswhites.ItmadeRugen’smountseemlikeaplowpuller.

“Shedeliversmilkinthemornings,”CountRugensaid.

“Andsheistruly-without-

question-no-possibility-of-errorbeautiful?”

“ShewassomethingofamesswhenIsawher,”theCountadmitted.“Butthepotentialwasoverwhelming.”

“Amilkmaid.”ThePrinceranthewordsacrosshisroughtongue.“Idon’tknowthatIcouldwedoneofthemevenunderthebestofconditions.Peoplemightsnickerthatshe

wasthebestIcoulddo.”

“True,”theCountadmitted.“Ifyouprefer,wecanridebacktoFlorinCitywithoutwaiting.”

“We’vecomethisfar,”thePrincesaid.“Wemightaswellwai—”Hisvoicequitesimplydied.“I’lltakeher,”hemanaged,finally,asButtercuprodeslowlybybelowthem.

“Noonewillsnicker,Ithink,”theCountsaid.

“Imustcourthernow,”saidthePrince.“Leaveusaloneforaminute.”Herodethewhiteexpertlydownthehill.

Buttercuphadneverseensuchagiantbeast.Orsucharider.

“IamyourPrinceandyouwillmarryme,”

Humperdincksaid.

Buttercupwhispered,“IamyourservantandIrefuse.”

“IamyourPrinceandyoucannotrefuse.”

“IamyourloyalservantandIjustdid.”

“Refusalmeansdeath.”

“Killmethen.”

“IamyourPrinceandI’mnotthatbad—howcouldyouratherbedeadthanmarriedtome?”

“Because,”Buttercupsaid,“marriageinvolveslove,andthatisnotapastimeatwhichIexcel.Itriedonce,anditwentbadly,andIamswornnevertoloveanother.”

“Love?”saidPrinceHumperdinck.“Who

mentionedlove?Notme,Icantellyou.Look:theremustalwaysbeamaleheirtothethroneofFlorin.That’sme.Oncemyfatherdies,therewon’tbeanheir,justaking.That’smeagain.Whenthathappens,I’llmarryandhavechildrenuntilthereisason.SoyoucaneithermarrymeandbetherichestandmostpowerfulwomaninathousandmilesandgiveturkeysawayatChristmas

andprovidemeason.oryoucandieinterriblepainintheverynearfuture.Makeupyourownmind.”

“I’llneverloveyou.”

“Iwouldn’twantitifIhadit.”

“Thenbyallmeansletusmarry.”

Four - THEPREPARATIONS

Ididn’tevenknowthischapterexisteduntilIbeganthe‘goodparts’version.Allmyfatherusedtosayatthispointwas,Whatwithonethingandanother,threeyearspassed,’andthenhe’dexplainhowthedaycame

whenButtercupwasofficiallyintroducedtotheworldasthecomingqueen,andhowtheGreatSquareofFlorinCitywasfilledasneverbefore,awaitingherintroduction,andbythen,hewasintotheterrificbusinessdealingwiththekidnapping.

WouldyoubelievethatintheoriginalMorgensternthisisthelongestsinglechapterinthebook?

FifteenpagesabouthowHumperdinckcan’tmarryacommonsubject,sotheyfightandarguewiththenoblesandfinallymakeButtercupPrincessofHammersmith,whichwasthislittlelumpoflandattachedtotherearofKingLotharon’sholdings.

ThenthemiraclemanbeganimprovingKingLotharon,andeighteenpagesareusedupindescribingthecures.

(Morgensternhateddoctors,andwasalwaysbitterwhentheyoutlawedmiraclemenfromworkinginFlorinproper.)

Andseventy-two—count‘em—seventy-twopagesonthetrainingofaprincess.HefollowsButtercupdaytoday,monthtomonth,asshelearnsallthewaysofcurtsyingandteapouringandhowtoaddressvisitingnabobsand

likethat.Allthisinasatiricvein,naturally,sinceMorgensternhatedroyaltymoreeventhandoctors.

Butfromanarrativepointofview,in105pagesnothinghappens.Exceptthis:‘Whatwithonethingandanother,threeyearspassed.’

Five - THE

ANNOUNCEMENT

Thegreatsquareofflorincitywasfilledasneverbefore,awaitingtheintroductionofPrinceHumperdinck’sbride-to-be,PrincessButtercupofHammersmith.Thecrowdhadbegunformingsomefortyhoursearlier,butuptotwenty-fourhoursbefore,therewerestillfewerthan

onethousand.Butthen,asthemomentofintroductiongrewnearer,fromacrossthecountrythepeoplecame.NonehadeverseenthePrincess,butrumorsofherbeautywerecontinualandeachwaslesspossiblethantheonebefore.

Atnoontime,PrinceHumperdinckappearedatthebalconyofhisfather’scastleandraisedhisarms.The

crowd,whichbynowwasatthedangersize,slowlyquieted.TherewerestoriesthattheKingwasdying,thathewasalreadydead,thathehadbeendeadlongsince,thathewasfine.

“Mypeople,mybeloveds,fromwhomwedrawourstrength,todayisadayofgreeting.Asyoumusthaveheard,myhonoredfather’shealthisnotwhatitoncewas.

Heis,ofcourse,ninety-seven,sowhocanaskmore.Asyoualsoknow,Florinneedsamaleheir.”

Thecrowdbegantostirnow—itwastobethisladytheyhadheardsomuchabout.

“Inthreemonths,ourcountrycelebratesitsfivehundredthanniversary.Tocelebratethatcelebration,Ishall,onthatsundown,takeformywife

thePrincessButtercupofHammersmith.Youdonotknowheryet.Butyouwillmeethernow,”andhemadeasweepinggestureandthebalconydoorsswungopenandButtercupmovedoutbesidehimonthebalcony.

Andthecrowd,quiteliterally,gasped.

Thetwenty-one-year-oldPrincessfarsurpassedthe

eighteen-year-oldmourner.Herfigurefaultsweregone,thetoobonyelbowhavingfleshedoutnicely;theoppositepudgywristcouldnothavebeentrimmer.Herhair,whichwasoncethecolorofautumn,wasstillthecolorofautumn,exceptthatbefore,shehadtendeditherself,whereasnowshehadfivefull-timehairdresserswhomanagedthingsforher.(Thiswaslongafter

hairdressers;intruth,eversincetherehavebeenwomen,therehavebeenhairdressers,Adambeingthefirst,thoughtheKingJamesscholarsdotheirverybesttomuddythispoint.)Herskinwasstillwintrycream,butnow,withtwohandmaidensassignedtoeachappendageandfourfortherestofher,itactually,incertainlights,seemedtoprovideherwithagentle,continuallymovingasshe

moved,glow.

PrinceHumperdincktookherhandandheldithighandthecrowdcheered.“That’senough,mustn’triskoverexposure,”thePrincesaid,andhestartedbackintowardthecastle.

“Theyhavewaited,someofthem,solong,”Buttercupanswered.“Iwouldliketowalkamongthem.”

“Wedonotwalkamongcommonersunlessitisunavoidable,”thePrincesaid.

“Ihaveknownmorethanafewcommonersinmytime,”Buttercuptoldhim.“Theywillnot,Ithink,harmme.”

Andwiththatsheleftthebalcony,reappearedamomentlateronthegreatstepsofthecastleand,quitealone,walkedopen-armed

downintothecrowd.

Wherevershewent,thepeopleparted.ShecrossedandrecrossedtheGreatSquareandalways,aheadofher,thepeoplesweptaparttoletherpass.Buttercupcontinued,movingslowlyandsmiling,alone,likesomelandmessiah.

Mostofthepeopletherewouldneverforgetthatday.

Noneofthem,ofcourse,hadeverbeensoclosetoperfection,andthegreatmajorityadoredherinstantly.Therewere,tobesure,somewho,whileadmittingshewaspleasingenough,werewithholdingjudgmentastoherqualityasaqueen.And,ofcourse,thereweresomemorewhowerefranklyjealous.Veryfewofthemhatedher.

Andonlythreeofthemwereplanningtomurderher.

Buttercup,naturally,knewnoneofthis.Shewassmiling,andwhenpeoplewantedtotouchhergown,well,letthem,andwhentheywantedtobrushtheirskinagainsthers,well,letthemdothattoo.Shehadstudiedhardtodothingsroyally,andshewantedverymuchtosucceed,soshekeptherpostureerect

andhersmilegentle,andthatherdeathwassoclosewouldhaveonlymadeherlaugh,ifsomeonehadtoldher.But—

—inthefarthestcorneroftheGreatSquare—

—inthehighestbuildingintheland—

—deepinthedeepestshadow—

—themaninblackstoodwaiting.

Hisbootswereblackandleather.Hispantswereblackandhisshirt.Hismaskwasblack,blackerthanraven.Butblackestofallwerehisflashingeyes.

Flashingandcruelanddeadly...

Buttercupwasmorethanalittlewearyafterhertriumph.Thetouchingofthecrowdshadexhaustedher,sosherestedabit,andthen,towardmidafternoon,shechangedintoherridingclothesandwenttofetchHorse.Thiswastheoneaspectofherlifethathadnotchangedintheyearspreceding.Shestilllovedtoride,andeveryafternoon,weatherpermittingornot,sherodealoneforseveralhours

inthewildlandbeyondthecastle.

Shedidherbestthinkingthen.

Notthatherbestthinkingeverexpandedhorizons.Still,shetoldherself,shewasnotadummyeither,soaslongasshekeptherthoughtstoherself,well,wherewastheharm?

Assherodethroughwoodsandstreamsandheather,herbrainwasawhirl.Thewalkthroughthecrowdshadmovedher,andinawaymoststrange.Foreventhoughshehaddonenothingforthreeyearsnowbuttraintobeaprincessandaqueen,todaywasthefirstdaysheactuallyunderstoodthatitwasallsoontobeareality.

AndIjustdon’tlike

Humperdinck,shethought.It’snotthatIhatehimoranything.Ijustneverseehim;he’salwaysoffsomeplaceorplayingintheZooofDeath.

ToButtercup’swayofthinking,thereweretwomainproblems:(1)wasitwrongtomarrywithoutlike,and(2)ifitwas,wasittoolatetodoanythingaboutit.

Theanswers,toherwayof

thinking,assherodealong,were:(1)noand(2)yes.

Itwasn’twrongtomarrysomeoneyoudidn’tlike,itjustwasn’trighteither.Ifthewholeworlddidit,thatwouldn’tbesogreat,whatwitheverybodykindofgruntingateverybodyelseastheyearswentby.But,ofcourse,noteverybodydidit;soforgetaboutthat.Theanswerto(2)waseveneasier:

shehadgivenherwordshewouldmarry;thatwouldhavetobeenough.True,hehadtoldherquitehonestlythatifshesaid“no”hewouldhavetohaveherdisposedof,inordertokeeprespectfortheCrownatitsproperlevel;still,shecouldhave,hadshesochosen,said“no.”

Everyonehadtoldher,sinceshebecameaprincess-in-training,thatshewasvery

likelythemostbeautifulwomanintheworld.Nowshewasgoingtobetherichestandmostpowerfulaswell.

Don’texpecttoomuchfromlife,Buttercuptoldherselfassherodealong.Learntobesatisfiedwithwhatyouhave.

DuskwasclosinginwhenButtercupcrestedthehill.Shewasperhapshalfanhour

fromthecastle,andherdailyridewasthree-quartersdone.SuddenlyshereinedHorse,forstandinginthedimnessbeyondwasthestrangesttrioshehadeverseen.

Themaninfrontwasdark,Sicilianperhaps,withthegentlestface,almostangelic.Hehadonelegtooshort,andthemakingsofahumpback,buthemovedforwardtowardherwithsurprisingspeedand

nimbleness.Theothertworemainedrooted.Thesecond,alsodark,probablySpanish,wasaserectandslenderasthebladeofsteelthatwasattachedtohisside.Thethirdman,mustachioed,perhapsaTurk,waseasilythebiggesthumanbeingshehadevereverseen.

“Aword?”theSiciliansaid,raisinghisarms.Hissmilewasmoreangelicthanhis

face.

Buttercuphalted.“Speak.”

“Wearebutpoorcircusperformers,”theSicilianexplained.“Itisdarkandwearelost.Weweretoldtherewasavillagenearbythatmightenjoyourskills.”

“Youweremisinformed,”Buttercuptoldhim.“Thereisnoone,notformanymiles.”

“Thentherewillbenoonetohearyouscream,”theSiciliansaid,andhejumpedwithfrighteningagilitytowardherface.

ThatwasallthatButtercupremembered.Perhapsshedidscream,butifshediditwasmorefromterrorthananythingelse,becausecertainlytherewasnopain.Hishandsexpertlytouchedplacesonherneck,and

unconsciousnesscame.

Sheawoketothelappingofwater.

ShewaswrappedinablanketandthegiantTurkwasputtingherinthebottomofaboat.Foramomentshewasabouttotalk,butthenwhentheybegantalking,shethoughtitbettertolisten.Andaftershehadlistenedforamoment,itgotharderand

hardertohear.Becauseoftheterriblepoundingofherheart.

“Ithinkyoushouldkillhernow,”theTurksaid.

“Thelessyouthink,thehappierI’llbe,”theSiciliananswered.

Therewasthesoundofrippingcloth.

“Whatisthat?”theSpaniard

asked.

“ThesameasIattachedtohersaddle,”theSicilianreplied.“FabricfromtheuniformofanofficerofGuilder.”

“Istillthink—”theTurkbegan.

“ShemustbefounddeadontheGuilderfrontierorwewillnotbepaidtheremainderof

ourfee.Isthatclearenoughforyou?”

“IjustfeelbetterwhenIknowwhat’sgoingon,that’sall,”theTurkmumbled.“PeoplearealwaysthinkingI’msostupidbecauseI’mbigandstrongandsometimesdroolalittlewhenIgetexcited.”

“Thereasonpeoplethinkyou’resostupid,”theSicilian

said,“isbecauseyouaresostupid.Ithasnothingtodowithyourdrooling.”

Therecamethesoundofaflappingofsail.“Watchyourheads,”theSpaniardcautioned,andthentheboatwasmoving.“ThepeopleofFlorinwillnottakeherdeathwell,Ishouldn’tthink.Shehasbecomebeloved.”

“Therewillbewar,”the

Sicilianagreed.“Wehavebeenpaidtostartit.It’safinelineofworktobeexpertin.Ifwedothisperfectly,therewillbeacontinualdemandforourservices.”

“WellIdon’tlikeitallthatmuch,”theSpaniardsaid.“Frankly,Iwishyouhadrefused.”

“Theofferwastoohigh.”

“Idon’tlikekillingagirl,”theSpaniardsaid.

“Goddoesitallthetime;ifitdoesn’tbotherHim,don’tletitworryyou.”

Throughallthis,Buttercuphadnotmoved.

TheSpaniardsaid,“Let’sjusttellherwe’retakingherawayforransom.”

TheTurkagreed.“She’ssobeautifulandshe’dgoallcrazyifsheknew.”

“Sheknowsalready,”theSiciliansaid.“She’sbeenawakeforeverywordofthis.”

Buttercuplayundertheblanket,notmoving.Howcouldhehaveknownthat,shewondered.

“Howcanyoubesure?”theSpaniardasked.

“TheSiciliansensesall,”theSiciliansaid.

Conceited,Buttercupthought.

“Yes,veryconceited,”theSiciliansaid.

Hemustbeamindreader,Buttercupthought.

“Areyougivingitfullsail?”theSiciliansaid.

“Asmuchasissafe,”theSpaniardansweredfromthetiller.

“Wehaveanhouronthem,sonorisksyet.Itwilltakeherhorseperhapstwenty-sevenminutestoreachthecastle,afewminutesmoreforthemtofigureoutwhathappenedand,sinceweleft

anobvioustrail,theyshouldbeafteruswithinanhour.WeshouldreachtheCliffsinfifteenminutesmoreand,withanyluckatall,theGuilderfrontieratdawn,whenshedies.HerbodyshouldbequitewarmwhenthePrincereacheshermutilatedform.Ionlywishwecouldstayforhisgrief—itshouldbeHomeric.”

Whydoesheletmeknowhis

plans,Buttercupwondered.

“Youaregoingbacktosleepnow,mylady,”theSpaniardsaid,andhisfingerssuddenlyweretouchinghertemple,hershoulder,herneck,andshewasunconsciousagain....

Buttercupdidnotknowhowlongshewasout,buttheywerestillintheboatwhensheblinked,theblanketshieldingher.Andthistime,

withoutdaringtothink—theSicilianwouldhaveknownitsomehow—shethrewtheblanketasideanddovedeepintoFlorinChannel.

Shestayedunderforaslongasshedaredandthensurfaced,startingtoswimacrossthemoonlesswaterwitheveryounceofstrengthremainingtoher.Behindherinthedarknesstherewerecries.

“Goin,goin!”fromtheSicilian.

“Ionlydogpaddle”fromtheTurk.

“You’rebetterthanIam”fromtheSpaniard.

Buttercupcontinuedtoleavethembehindher.Herarmsachedfromeffortbutshegavethemnorest.Herlegskickedandherheartpounded.

“Icanhearherkicking,”theSiciliansaid.“Veerleft.”

Buttercupwentintoherbreaststroke,silentlyswimmingaway.

“Whereisshe?”shriekedtheSicilian.

“Thesharkswillgether,don’tworry,”cautionedtheSpaniard.

Ohdear,Iwishyouhadn’tmentionedthat,thoughtButtercup.

“Princess,”theSiciliancalled,“doyouknowwhathappenstosharkswhentheysmellbloodinthewater?Theygomad.Thereisnocontrollingtheirwildness.Theyripandshredandchewanddevour,andI’minaboat,Princess,andthereisn’tanybloodinthewaternow,so

we’rebothquitesafe,butthereisaknifeinmyhand,mylady,andifyoudon’tcomebackI’llcutmyarmsandI’llcutmylegsandI’llcatchthebloodinacupandI’llflingitasfarasIcanandsharkscansmellbloodinthewaterformilesandyouwon’tbebeautifulforlong.”

Buttercuphesitated,silentlytreadingwater.Aroundhernow,althoughitwassurely

herimagination,sheseemedtobehearingtheswishofgianttails.

“Comebackandcomebacknow.Therewillbenootherwarning.”

Buttercupthought,IfIcomeback,they’llkillmeanyway,sowhat’sthedifference?

“Thedifferenceis—”

Therehegoesdoingthatagain,thoughtButtercup.Hereallyisamindreader.

“—ifyoucomebacknow,”theSicilianwenton,“Igiveyoumywordasagentlemanandassassinthatyouwilldietotallywithoutpain.Iassureyou,youwillgetnosuchpromisefromthesharks.”

Thefishsoundsinthenightwereclosernow.

Buttercupbegantotremblewithfear.Shewasterriblyashamedofherselfbutthereitwas.Sheonlywishedshecouldseeforaminuteiftherereallyweresharksandifhereallywouldcuthimself.

TheSicilianwincedoutloud.

“Hejustcuthisarm,lady,”theTurkcalledout.“He’scatchingthebloodinacupnow.Theremustbeahalf-

inchofbloodonthebottom.”

TheSicilianwincedagain.

“Hecuthislegthistime,”theTurkwenton.“Thecup’sgettingfull.”

Idon’tbelievethem,Buttercupthought.Therearenosharksinthewaterandthereisnobloodinhiscup.

“Myarmisbacktothrow,”

theSiciliansaid.“Calloutyourlocationornot,thechoiceisyours.”

I’mnotmakingapeep,Buttercupdecided.

“Farewell,”fromtheSicilian.

Therewasthesplashingsoundofliquidlandingonliquid.

Thentherecameapause.

Thenthesharkswentmad—

‘Shedoesnotgeteatenbythesharksatthistime,’myfathersaid.

Ilookedupathim.‘What?’

‘YoulookedlikeyouweregettingtooinvolvedandbotheredsoIthoughtIwouldletyourelax.’

‘Oh,forPete’ssake,’Isaid,you‘dthinkIwasababyorsomething.Whatkindofstuffisthat?’Ireallysoundedputout,butI’lltellyouthetruth:IwasgettingalittletooinvolvedandIwasgladhetoldme.Imean,whenyou’reakid,youdon’tthink,Well,sincethebook’scalledThePrincessBrideandsincewe’rebarelyintoit,obviously,theauthor’snotabouttomakesharkkibbleof

hisleadinglady.Yougethookedonthingswhenyou’reayoungster;sotoanyyoungstersreading,I’llsimplyrepeatmyfather’swordssincetheyworkedtosootheme:‘Shedoesnotgeteatenbythesharksatthistime.’

Thenthesharkswentmad.Allaroundher,Buttercupcouldhearthembeepingand

screamingandthrashingtheirmightytails.Nothingcansaveme,Buttercuprealized.I’madeadcookie.

Fortunatelyforallconcernedsavethesharks,itwasaroundthistimethatthemooncameout.

“Theresheis,”shoutedtheSicilian,andlikelightningtheSpaniardturnedtheboatandastheboatdrewclosethe

Turkreachedoutagiantarmandthenshewasbackinthesafetyofhermurdererswhileallaroundthemthesharksbumpedeachotherinwildfrustration.

“Keepherwarm,”theSpaniardsaidfromthetiller,tossinghiscloaktotheTurk.

“Don’tcatchcold,”theTurksaid,wrappingButtercupintothecloak’sfolds.

“Itdoesn’tseemtomatterallthatmuch,”sheanswered,“seeingyou’rekillingmeatdawn.”

“He’lldotheactualwork,”theTurksaid,indicatingtheSicilian,whowaswrappingclotharoundhiscuts.“We’lljustholdyou.”

“Holdyourstupidtongue,”theSiciliancommanded.

TheTurkimmediatelyhushed.

“Idon’tthinkhe’ssostupid,”Buttercupsaid.“AndIdon’tthinkyou’resosmarteither,withallyourthrowingbloodinthewater.That’snotwhatIwouldcallgrade-Athinking.”

“Itworked,didn’tit?You’reback,aren’tyou?”TheSiciliancrossedtowardher.“Oncewomenaresufficiently

frightened,theyscream.”

“ButIdidn’tscream;themooncameout,”answeredButtercupsomewhattriumphantly.

TheSicilianstruckher.

“Enoughofthat,”theTurksaidthen.

Thetinyhumpbacklookeddeadatthegiant.“Doyou

wanttofightme?Idon’tthinkyoudo.”

“No,sir,”theTurkmumbled.“No.Butdon’tuseforce.Please.Forceismine.Strikemeifyoufeeltheneed.Iwon’tcare.”

TheSicilianreturnedtotheothersideoftheboat.“Shewouldhavescreamed,”hesaid.“Shewasabouttocryout.Myplanwasidealasall

myplansareideal.Itwasthemoon’silltimingthatrobbedmeofperfection.”Hescowledunforgivinglyattheyellowwedgeabovethem.Thenhestaredahead.“There!”TheSicilianpointed.“TheCliffsofInsanity.”

Andtheretheywere.Risingstraightandsheerfromthewater,athousandfeetintothenight.Theyprovidedthemost

directroutebetweenFlorinandGuilder,butnooneeverusedthem,sailinginsteadthelongway,manymilesaround.NotthattheCliffswereimpossibletoscale;twomenwereknowntohaveclimbedtheminthelastcenturyalone.

“Sailstraightforthesteepestpart,”theSiciliancommanded.

TheSpaniardsaid,“Iwas.”

Buttercupdidnotunderstand.GoinguptheCliffscouldhardlybedoneshethought;andnoonehadevermentionedsecretpassagesthroughthem.Yetheretheywere,sailingcloserandclosertothemightyrocks,nowsurelylessthanaquarter-mileaway.

ForthefirsttimetheSicilian

allowedhimselfasmile.“Alliswell.Iwasafraidyourlittlejauntinthewaterwasgoingtocostmetoomuchtime.Ihadallowedanhourofsafety.Theremuststillbefiftyminutesofitleft.Wearemilesaheadofanybodyandsafe,safe,safe.”

“Noonecouldbefollowingusyet?”theSpaniardasked.

“Noone,”theSicilianassured

him.“Itwouldbeinconceivable.”

“Absolutelyinconceivable?”

“Absolutely,totally,and,inallotherways,inconceivable,”theSicilianreassuredhim.“Whydoyouask?”

“Noreason,”theSpaniardreplied.“It’sonlythatIjusthappenedtolookbackand

something’sthere.”

Theyallwhirled.

Somethingwasindeedthere.Lessthanamilebehindthemacrossthemoonlightwasanothersailingboat,small,paintedwhatlookedlikeblack,withagiantsailthatbillowedblackinthenight,andasinglemanatthetiller.Amaninblack.

TheSpaniardlookedattheSicilian.“Itmustjustbesomelocalfishermanoutforapleasurecruisealoneatnightthroughshark-infestedwaters.”

“Thereisprobablyamorelogicalexplanation,”theSiciliansaid.“ButsincenooneinGuildercouldknowyetwhatwe’vedone,andnooneinFlorincouldhavegottenheresoquickly,heis

definitelynot,howevermuchitmaylooklikeit,followingus.Itiscoincidenceandnothingmore.”

“He’sgainingonus,”theTurksaid.

“Thatisalsoinconceivable,”theSiciliansaid.“BeforeIstolethisboatwe’rein,ImademanyinquiriesastowhatwasthefastestshiponallofFlorinChanneland

everyoneagreeditwasthisone.”

“You’reright,”theTurkagreed,staringback.“Heisn’tgainingonus.He’sjustgettingcloser,that’sall.”

“Itistheanglewe’relookingfromandnothingmore,”saidtheSicilian.

Buttercupcouldnottakehereyesfromthegreatblacksail.

Surelythethreemenshewaswithfrightenedher.Butsomehow,forreasonsshecouldneverbegintoexplain,themaninblackfrightenedhermore.

“Allright,looksharp,”theSiciliansaidthen,justadropofedginessinhisvoice.

TheCliffsofInsanitywereveryclosenow.

TheSpaniardmaneuveredthecraftexpertly,whichwasnoteasy,andthewaveswererollingintowardtherocksnowandthespraywasblinding.Buttercupshieldedhereyesandputherheadstraightback,staringupintothedarknesstowardthetop,whichseemedshroudedandoutofreach.

Thenthehumpbackboundedforward,andastheship

reachedthecliffface,hejumpedupandsuddenlytherewasaropeinhishand.

Buttercupstaredinsilentastonishment.Therope,thickandstrong,seemedtotravelallthewayuptheCliffs.Asshewatched,theSicilianpulledattheropeagainandagainanditheldfirm.Itwasattachedtosomethingatthetop—agiantrock,atoweringtree,something.

“Fastnow,”theSicilianordered.“Ifheisfollowingus,whichofcourseisnotwithintherealmofhumanexperience,butifheis,we’vegottoreachthetopandcuttheropeoffbeforehecanclimbupafterus.”

“Climb?”Buttercupsaid.“Iwouldneverbeableto—”

“Hush!”theSicilianorderedher.“Getready!”heordered

theSpaniard.“Sinkit,”heorderedtheTurk.

Andtheneveryonegotbusy.TheSpaniardtookarope,tiedButtercup’shandsandfeet.TheTurkraisedagreatlegandstompeddownatthecenteroftheboat,whichgavewayimmediatelyandbegantosink.ThentheTurkwenttotheropeandtookitinhishands.

“Loadme,”theTurksaid.

TheSpaniardliftedButtercupanddrapedherbodyaroundtheTurk’sshoulders.ThenhetiedhimselftotheTurk’swaist.ThentheSicilianhopped,clungtotheTurk’sneck.

“Allaboard,”theSiciliansaid.(Thiswasbeforetrains,buttheexpressioncomesoriginallyfromcarpenters

loadinglumber,andthiswaswellaftercarpenters.)

WiththattheTurkbegantoclimb.Itwasatleastathousandfeetandhewascarryingthethree,buthewasnotworried.Whenitcametopower,nothingworriedhim.Whenitcametoreading,hegotknotsinthemiddleofhisstomach,andwhenitcametowriting,hebrokeoutinacoldsweat,andwhenadditionwas

mentionedor,worse,longdivision,healwayschangedthesubjectrightaway.

Butstrengthhadneverbeenhisenemy.Hecouldtakethekickofahorseonhischestandnotfallbackward.Hecouldtakeahundred-poundfloursackbetweenhislegsandscissoritopenwithoutthinking.Hehadonceheldanelephantaloftusingonlythemusclesinhisback.

Buthisrealmightlayinhisarms.Therehadnever,notinathousandyears,beenarmstomatchFezzik’s.(Forthatwashisname.)ThearmswerenotonlyGargantuanandtotallyobedientandsurprisinglyquick,buttheywerealso,andthisiswhyheneverworried,tireless.Ifyougavehimanaxandtoldhimtochopdownaforest,hislegsmightgiveoutfromhavingtosupportsomuch

weightforsolong,ortheaxmightshatterfromthepunishmentofkillingsomanytrees,butFezzik’sarmswouldbeasfreshtomorrowastoday.

Andso,evenwiththeSicilianonhisneckandthePrincessaroundhisshouldersandtheSpaniardathiswaist,Fezzikdidnotfeelintheleastbitputupon.Hewasactuallyquitehappy,becauseitwasonly

whenhewasrequestedtousehismightthathefelthewasn’tabothertoeverybody.

Upheclimbed,armoverarm,armoverarm,twohundredfeetnowabovethewater,eighthundredfeetnowtogo.

Morethananyofthem,theSicilianwasafraidofheights.Allofhisnightmares,andtheywereneverfarfromhimwhenheslept,dealtwith

falling.Sothisterrifyingascensionwasmostdifficultforhim,perchedashewasontheneckofthegiant.Orshouldhavebeenmostdifficult.

Buthewouldnotallowit.

Fromthebeginning,whenasachildherealizedhishumpedbodywouldneverconquerworlds,hereliedonhismind.Hetrainedit,fought

it,broughtittoheel.Sonow,threehundredfeetinthenightandrisinghigher,whileheshouldhavebeentrembling,hewasnot.

Insteadhewasthinkingofthemaninblack.

Therewasnowayanyonecouldhavebeenquickenoughtofollowthem.Andyetfromsomedevil’sworldthatbillowingblacksailhad

appeared.How?How?TheSicilianfloggedhismindtofindananswer,buthefoundonlyfailure.Inwildfrustrationhetookadeepbreathand,inspiteofhisterriblefears,helookedbackdowntowardthedarkwater.

Themaninblackwasstillthere,sailinglikelightningtowardtheCliffs.Hecouldnothavebeenmorethanaquarter-milefromthemnow.

“Faster!”theSiciliancommanded.

“I’msorry,”theTurkansweredmeekly.“IthoughtIwasgoingfaster.”

“Lazy,lazy,”spurredtheSicilian.

“I’llneverimprove,”theTurkanswered,buthisarmsbegantomovefasterthanbefore.“Icannotseetoowellbecause

yourfeetarelockedaroundmyface,”hewenton,“socouldyoutellmepleaseifwe’rehalfwayyet?”

“Alittleover,Ishouldthink,”saidtheSpaniardfromhispositionaroundthegiant’swaist.“You’redoingwonderfully,Fezzik.”

“Thankyou,”saidthegiant.

“Andhe’sclosingonthe

Cliffs,”addedtheSpaniard.

Noonehadtoaskwho“he”was.

Sixhundredfeetnow.Thearmscontinuedtopull,overandover.Sixhundredandtwentyfeet.Sixhundredandfifty.Nowfasterthanever.Sevenhundred.

“He’slefthisboatbehind,”theSpaniardsaid.“He’s

jumpedontoourrope.He’sstartingupafterus.”

“Icanfeelhim,”Fezziksaid.“Hisbodyweightontherope.”

“He’llnevercatchup!”theSiciliancried.“Inconceivable!”

“Youkeepusingthatword!”theSpaniardsnapped.“Idon’tthinkitmeanswhatyou

thinkitdoes.”

“Howfastisheatclimbing?”Fezziksaid.

“I’mfrightened”wastheSpaniard’sreply.

TheSiciliangatheredhiscourageagainandlookeddown.

Themaninblackseemedalmosttobeflying.Already

hehadcuttheirleadahundredfeet.Perhapsmore.

“Ithoughtyouweresupposedtobesostrong!”theSicilianshouted.“Ithoughtyouwerethisgreatmightythingandyethegains.”

“I’mcarryingthreepeople,”Fezzikexplained.“Hehasonlyhimselfand—”

“Excusesaretherefugeof

cowards,”theSicilianinterrupted.Helookeddownagain.Themaninblackhadgainedanotherhundredfeet.Helookedupnow.Theclifftopswerebeginningtocomeintoview.Perhapsahundredandfiftyfeetmoreandtheyweresafe.

Tiedhandandfoot,sickwithfear,Buttercupwasn’tsurewhatshewantedtohappen.Exceptthismuchsheknew:

shedidn’twanttogothroughanythinglikeitagain.

“Fly,Fezzik!”theSicilianscreamed.“Ahundredfeettogo.”

Fezzikflew.Heclearedhismindofeverythingbutropesandarmsandfingers,andhisarmspulledandhisfingersgrippedandtheropeheldtautand—

“He’soverhalfway,”theSpaniardsaid.

“Halfwaytodoomiswhereheis,”theSiciliansaid.“We’refiftyfeetfromsafety,andoncewe’rethereandIuntietherope...”Heallowedhimselftolaugh.

Fortyfeet.

Fezzikpulled.

Twenty.

Ten.

Itwasover.Fezzikhaddoneit.TheyhadreachedthetopoftheCliffs,andfirsttheSicilianjumpedoffandthentheTurkremovedthePrincess,andastheSpaniarduntiedhimself,helookedbackovertheCliffs.

Themaninblackwasno

morethanthreehundredfeetaway.

“Itseemsashame,”theTurksaid,lookingdownalongsidetheSpaniard.“Suchaclimberdeservesbetterthan—”Hestoppedtalkingthen.

TheSicilianhaduntiedtheropefromitsknotsaroundanoak.Theropeseemedalmostalive,thegreatestofallwaterserpentsheadingatlastfor

home.Itwhippedacrosstheclifftops,spiraledintothemoonlitChannel.

TheSicilianwasroaringnow,andhekeptatituntiltheSpaniardsaid,“Hedidit.”

“Didwhat?”Thehumpbackcamescurryingtothecliffedge.

“Releasedtheropeintime,”theSpaniardsaid.“See?”He

pointeddown.

Themaninblackwashanginginspace,clingingtothesheerrockface,sevenhundredfeetabovethewater.

TheSicilianwatched,fascinated.“Youknow,”hesaid,“sinceI’vemadeastudyofdeathanddyingandamagreatexpert,itmightinterestyoutoknowthathewillbedeadlongbeforehehitsthe

water.Thefallwilldoit,notthecrash.”

Themaninblackdangledhelplessinspace,clingingtotheCliffswithbothhands.

“Oh,howrudewe’rebeing,”theSiciliansaidthen,turningtoButtercup.“I’msureyou’dliketowatch.”Hewenttoherandbroughther,stilltiedhandandfoot,sothatshecouldwatchthefinalpathetic

struggleofthemaninblackthreehundredfeetbelow.

Buttercupclosedhereyes,turnedaway.

“Shouldn’twebegoing?”theSpaniardasked.“Ithoughtyouweretellingushowimportanttimewas.”

“Itis,itis,”theSiciliannodded.“ButIjustcan’tmissadeathlikethis.IfIcould

stageoneoftheseeveryweekandselltickets,Icouldgetoutoftheassassinationbusinessentirely.Lookathim—doyouthinkhislifeispassingbeforehiseyes?That’swhatthebookssay.”

“Hehasverystrongarms,”Fezzikcommented.“Toholdonsolong.”

“Hecan’tholdonmuchlonger,”theSiciliansaid.“He

hastofallsoon.”

Itwasatthatmomentthatthemaninblackbegantoclimb.Notquickly,ofcourse.Andnotwithoutgreateffort.Butstill,therewasnodoubtthathewas,inspiteofthesheernessoftheCliffs,headinginanupwarddirection.

“Inconceivable!”theSiciliancried.

TheSpaniardwhirledonhim.”Stopsayingthatword.Itwasinconceivablethatanyonecouldfollowus,butwhenwelookedbehind,therewasthemaninblack.Itwasinconceivablethatanyonecouldsailasfastaswecouldsail,andyethegainedonus.Nowthistooisinconceivable,butlook—look—”andtheSpaniardpointeddownthroughthenight.“Seehowherises.”

Themaninblackwas,indeed,rising.Somehow,insomealmostmiraculousway,hisfingerswerefindingholdsinthecrevices,andhewasnowperhapsfifteenfeetclosertothetop,fartherfromdeath.

TheSicilianadvancedontheSpaniardnow,hiswildeyesglitteringattheinsubordination.“Ihavethekeenestmindthathasever

beenturnedtounlawfulpursuits,”hebegan,“sowhenItellyousomething,itisnotguesswork;itisfact!Andthefactisthatthemaninblackisnotfollowingus.Amorelogicalexplanationwouldbethatheissimplyanordinarysailorwhodabblesinmountainclimbingasahobbywhohappenstohavethesamegeneralfinaldestinationaswedo.ThatcertainlysatisfiesmeandI

hopeitsatisfiesyou.Inanycase,wecannottaketheriskofhisseeinguswiththePrincess,andthereforeoneofyoumustkillhim.”

“ShallIdoit?”theTurkwondered.

TheSicilianshookhishead.“No,Fezzik,”hesaidfinally.“Ineedyourstrengthtocarrythegirl.Pickherupnowandletushurryalong.”Heturned

totheSpaniard.“We’llbeheadingdirectlyforthefrontierofGuilder.Catchupasquicklyasyoucanoncehe’sdead.”

TheSpaniardnodded.

TheSicilianhobbledaway.

TheTurkhoistedthePrincess,beganfollowingthehumpback.JustbeforehelostsightoftheSpaniardhe

turnedandhollered,“Catchupquickly.”

“Don’tIalways?”TheSpaniardwaved.“Farewell,Fezzik.”

“Farewell,Inigo,”theTurkreplied.Andthenhewasgone,andtheSpaniardwasalone.

Inigomovedtothecliffedgeandkneltwithhiscustomary

quickgrace.Twohundredandfiftyfeetbelowhimnow,themaninblackcontinuedhispainfulclimb.Inigolayflat,staringdown,tryingtopiercethemoonlightandfindtheclimber’ssecret.Foralongwhile,Inigodidnotmove.Hewasagoodlearner,butnotaparticularlyfastone,sohehadtostudy.Finally,herealizedthatsomehow,bysomemystery,themaninblackwasmakingfistsand

jammingthemintotherocks,andusingthemforsupport.Thenhewouldreachupwithhisotherhand,untilhefoundahighsplitintherock,andmakeanotherfistandjamitin.Wheneverhecouldfindsupportforhisfeet,hewoulduseit,butmostlyitwasthejammedfiststhatmadetheclimbingpossible.

Inigomarveled.Whatatrulyextraordinaryadventurerthis

maninblackmustbe.HewascloseenoughnowforInigotorealizethatthemanwasmasked,ablackhoodcoveringallbuthisfeatures.Anotheroutlaw?Perhaps.Thenwhyshouldtheyhavetofightandforwhat?Inigoshookhishead.Itwasashamethatsuchafellowmustdie,buthehadhisorders,sothereitwas.SometimeshedidnotliketheSicilian’scommands,butwhatcouldhe

do?WithoutthebrainsoftheSicilian,he,Inigo,wouldneverbeabletocommandjobsofthiscaliber.TheSicilianwasamasterplanner.Inigowasacreatureofthemoment.TheSiciliansaid“killhim,”sowhywastesympathyonthemaninblack.SomedaysomeonewouldkillInigo,andtheworldwouldnotstoptomourn.

Hestoodnow,quicklyjumpingtohisfeet,hisblade-thinbodyready.Foraction.Only,themaninblackwasstillmanyfeetaway.

Therewasnothingtodobutwaitforhim.Inigohatedwaiting.Sotomakethetimemorepleasant,hepulledfromthescabbardhisgreat,hisonly,love:

Thesix-fingeredsword.

Howitdancedinthemoonlight.Howgloriousandtrue.InigobroughtittohislipsandwithallthefervorinhisgreatSpanishheartkissedthemetal....

INIGO

InthemountainsofCentralSpain,sethighinthehillsaboveToledo,wasthevillage

ofArabella.Itwasverysmallandtheairwasalwaysclear.ThatwasallyoucouldsaythatwasgoodaboutArabella:terrificair—youcouldseeformiles.

Buttherewasnowork,thedogsoverranthestreetsandtherewasneverenoughfood.Theair,clearenough,wasalsotoohotindaylight,freezingatnight.AstoInigo’spersonallife,hewas

alwaysjustatriflehungry,hehadnobrothersorsisters,andhismotherhaddiedinchildbirth.

Hewasfantasticallyhappy.

Becauseofhisfather.DomingoMontoyawasfunny-lookingandcrotchetyandimpatientandabsent-mindedandneversmiled.

Inigolovedhim.Totally.

Don’taskwhy.Therereallywasn’tanyonereasonyoucouldputyourfingeron.Oh,probablyDomingolovedhimback,butloveismanythings,noneofthemlogical.

DomingoMontoyamadeswords.Ifyouwantedafabuloussword,didyougotoDomingoMontoya?Ifyouwantedagreatbalancedpieceofwork,didyougotothemountainsbehindToledo?If

youwantedamasterpiece,aswordfortheages,wasitArabellathatyourfootstepsledyouto?

Nope.

YouwenttoMadrid;becauseMadridwaswherelivedthefamousYeste,andifyouhadthemoneyandhehadthetime,yougotyourweapon.Yestewasfatandjovialandoneoftherichestandmost

honoredmeninthecity.Andheshouldhavebeen.Hemadewonderfulswords,andnoblemenbraggedtoeachotherwhentheyownedanoriginalYeste.

Butsometimes—notoften,mindyou,maybeonceayear,maybeless—arequestwouldcomeinforaweaponthatwasmorethanevenYestecouldmake.Whenthathappened,didYestesay,

“Alas,Iamsorry,Icannotdoit”?

Nope.

Whathesaidwas,“Ofcourse,I’dbedelighted,fiftypercentdownpaymentplease,therestbeforedelivery,comebackinayear,thankyouverymuch.”

ThenextdayhewouldsetoutforthehillsbehindToledo.

“So,Domingo,”YestewouldcalloutwhenhereachedInigo’sfather’shut.

“So,Yeste,”DomingoMontoyawouldreturnfromthehutdoorway.

ThenthetwomenwouldembraceandInigowouldcomerunningupandYestewouldrumplehishairandthenInigowouldmaketeawhilethetwomentalked.

“Ineedyou,”Yestewouldalwaysbegin.

Domingowouldgrunt.

“ThisveryweekIhaveacceptedacommissiontomakeaswordforamemberoftheItaliannobility.Itistobejewelencrustedatthehandleandthejewelsaretospelloutthenameofhispresentmistressand—”

“No.”

Thatsinglewordandthatalone.Butitwasenough.WhenDomingoMontoyasaid“no”itmeantnothingelsebut.

Inigo,busywiththetea,knewwhatwouldhappennow:Yestewouldusehischarm.

“No.”

Yestewouldusehiswealth.

“No.”

Hiswit,hiswonderfulgiftforpersuasion.

“No.”

Hewouldbeg,entreat,promise,pledge.

“No.”

Insults.Threats.

“No.”

Finally,genuinetears.

“No.Moretea,Yeste?”

“Perhapsanothercup,thankyou—”Then,big:“WHYWON’TYOU?”

Inigohurriedtorefilltheircupssoasnevertomissa

word.Heknewtheyhadbeenbroughtuptogether,hadknowneachothersixtyyears,hadnevernotlovedoneanotherdeeply,anditthrilledhimwhenhecouldhearthemarguing.Thatwasthestrangething:arguingwasalltheyeverdid.

“Why?Myfatfriendasksmewhy?Hesitsthereonhisworld-classassandhasthenervetoaskmewhy?Yeste.

Cometomesometimewithachallenge.Once,justonce,rideupandsay,‘Domingo,Ineedaswordforaneighty-year-oldmantofightaduel,’andIwouldembraceyouandcry‘Yes!’Becausetomakeaswordforaneighty-year-oldmantosurviveaduel,thatwouldbesomething.Becausetheswordwouldhavetobestrongenoughtowin,yetlightenoughnottotirehiswearyarm.Iwouldhaveto

usemyalltoperhapsfindanunknownmetal,strongbutverylight,ordeviseadifferentformulaforaknownone,mixsomebronzewithsomeironandsomeairinawayignoredforathousandyears.Iwouldkissyoursmellyfeetforanopportunitylikethat,fatYeste.ButtomakeastupidswordwithstupidjewelsintheformofstupidinitialssosomestupidItaliancanthrillhisstupid

mistress,no.That,Iwillnotdo.”

“ForthelasttimeIaskyou.Please.”

“ForthelasttimeItellyou,Iamsorry.No.”

“Igavemywordtheswordwouldbemade,”Yestesaid.“Icannotmakeit.Inalltheworldnoonecanbutyou,andyousayno.Whichmeans

Ihavegonebackonacommitment.WhichmeansIhavelostmyhonor.WhichmeansthatsincehonoristheonlythingintheworldIcareabout,andsinceIcannotlivewithoutit,Imustdie.Andsinceyouaremydearestfriend,Imayaswelldienow,withyou,baskinginthewarmthofyouraffection.”AndhereYestewouldpulloutaknife.Itwasamagnificentthing,agiftfrom

DomingoonYeste’sweddingday.

“Good-by,littleInigo,”Yestewouldsaythen.“Godgrantyouyourquotaofsmiles.”

ItwasforbiddenforInigotointerrupt.

“Good-by,littleDomingo,”Yestewouldsaythen.“AlthoughIdieinyourhut,andalthoughitisyourown

stubbornfaultthatcausesmyceasing,inotherwords,eventhoughyouarekillingme,don’tthinktwiceaboutit.IloveyouasIalwayshaveandGodforbidyourconscienceshouldgiveyouanytrouble.”Hepulledopenhiscoat,broughttheknifecloser,closer.”ThepainisworsethanIimagined!”Yestecried.

“Howcanithurtwhenthe

pointoftheweaponisstillaninchawayfromyourbelly?”Domingoasked.

“I’manticipating,don’tbotherme,letmedieunpestered.”Hebroughtthepointtohisskin,pushed.

Domingograbbedtheknifeaway.“SomedayIwon’tstopyou,”hesaid.“Inigo,setanextraplaceforsupper.”

“Iwasallsettokillmyself,truly.”

“Enoughdramatics.”

“Whatisonthemenufortheevening?”

“Theusualgruel.”

“Inigo,gocheckandseeifthere’sanythingbychanceinmycarriageoutside.”

Therewasalwaysafeastwaitinginthecarriage.

Andafterthefoodandthestorieswouldcomethedeparture,andalways,beforethedeparture,wouldcometherequest.“Wewouldbepartners,”Yestewouldsay.“InMadrid.Mynamebeforeyoursonthesign,ofcourse,butequalpartnersinallthings.”

“No.”

“Allright.Yournamebeforemine.Youarethegreatestswordmaker,youdeservetocomefirst.”

“Haveagoodtripback.”

“WHYWON’TYOU?”

“Because,myfriendYeste,youareveryfamousandveryrich,andsoyoushouldbe,

becauseyoumakewonderfulweapons.Butyoumustalsomakethemforanyfoolwhohappensalong.Iampoor,andnooneknowsmeinalltheworldexceptyouandInigo,butIdonothavetosufferfools.”

“Youareanartist,”Yestesaid.

“No.Notyet.Acraftsmanonly.ButIdreamtobean

artist.Ipraythatsomeday,ifIworkwithenoughcare,ifIamveryverylucky,Iwillmakeaweaponthatisaworkofart.Callmeanartistthen,andIwillanswer.”

Yesteenteredhiscarriage.Domingoapproachedthewindow,whispered;“Iremindyouonlyofthis:whenyougetthisjeweledinitialedsword,claimitasyourown.Tellnooneofmy

involvement.”

“Yoursecretissafewithme.”

Embracesandwaves.Thecarriagewouldleave.Andthatwasthewayoflifebeforethesix-fingeredsword.

Inigorememberedexactlythemomentitbegan.Hewasmakinglunchforthem—hisfatheralways,fromthetimehewassix,lethimdothe

cooking—whenaheavyknockingcameonthehutdoor.“Insidethere,”avoiceboomed.“Bequickaboutit.”

Inigo’sfatheropenedthedoor.“Yourservant,”hesaid.

“Youareaswordmaker,”cametheboomingvoice.“Ofdistinction.Ihaveheardthatthisistrue.”

“Ifonlyitwere,”Domingo

replied.“ButIhavenogreatskills.MostlyIdorepairwork.Perhapsifyouhadadaggerbladethatwasdulling,Imightbeabletopleaseyou.Butanythingmoreisbeyondme.”

Inigocreptupbehindhisfatherandpeekedout.Theboomingvoicebelongedtoapowerfulmanwithdarkhairandbroadshoulderswhosatuponanelegantbrownhorse.

Anoblemanclearly,butInigocouldnottellthecountry.

“IdesiretohavemadeformethegreatestswordsinceExcalibur.”

“Ihopeyourwishesaregranted,”Domingosaid.“Andnow,ifyouplease,ourlunchisalmostreadyand—”

“Idonotgiveyoupermissiontomove.Youstayright

exactlywhereyouareorriskmywrath,which,Imusttellyouinadvance,isconsiderable.Mytemperismurderous.Now,whatwereyousayingaboutyourlunch?”

“Iwassayingthatitwillbehoursbeforeitisready;Ihavenothingtodoandwouldnotdreamofbudging.”

“Therearerumors,”the

noblemansaid,“thatdeepinthehillsbehindToledolivesagenius.Thegreatestswordmakerinalltheworld.”

“Hevisitsheresometimes—thatmustbeyourmistake.ButhisnameisYesteandhelivesinMadrid.”

“Iwillpayfivehundredpiecesofgoldformydesires,”saidthebig-shoulderednoble.

“Thatismoremoneythanallthemeninallthisvillagewillearninalltheirlives,”saidDomingo.“Truly,Iwouldlovetoacceptyouroffer.ButIamnotthemanyouseek.”

“TheserumorsleadmetobelievethatDomingoMontoyawouldsolvemyproblem.”

“Whatisyourproblem?”

“Iamagreatswordsman.ButIcannotfindaweapontomatchmypeculiarities,andthereforeIamdeprivedofreachingmyhighestskills.IfIhadaweapontomatchmypeculiarities,therewouldbenooneinalltheworldtoequalme.”

“Whatarethesepeculiaritiesyouspeakof?”

Thenoblehelduphisright

hand.

Domingobegantogrowexcited.

Themanhadsixfingers.

“Yousee?”thenoblebegan.

“Ofcourse,”Domingointerrupted,“thebalanceoftheswordiswrongforyoubecauseeverybalancehasbeenconceivedofforfive.

Thegripofeveryhandlecrampsyou,becauseithasbeenbuiltforfive.Foranordinaryswordsmanitwouldnotmatter,butagreatswordsman,amaster,wouldhaveeventualdiscomfort.Andthegreatestswordsmanintheworldmustalwaysbeatease.Thegripofhisweaponmustbeasnaturalastheblinkofhiseye,andcausehimnomorethought.”

“Clearly,youunderstandthedifficulties—”thenoblemanbeganagain.

ButDomingohadtraveledwhereothers’wordscouldneverreachhim.Inigohadneverseenhisfathersofrenzied.“Themeasurements...ofcourse...eachfingerandthecircumferenceofthewrist,andthedistancefromthesixthnailtotheindexpad...

somanymeasurements...andyourpreferences...Doyouprefertoslashorcut?Ifyouslash,doyouprefertheright-to-leftmovementorperhapstheparallel?...Whenyoucut,doyouenjoyanupwardthrust,andhowmuchpowerdoyouwishtocomefromtheshoulder,howmuchfromthewrist?...Anddoyouwishyourpointcoatedsoastoentermoreeasilyordoyouenjoyseeing

theopponent’swince?...Somuchtobedone,somuchtobedone...”andonandonhewentuntilthenobledismountedandhadtoalmosttakehimbytheshoulderstoquiethim.

“Youarethemanoftherumors.”

Domingonodded.

“Andyouwillmakemethe

greatestswordsinceExcalibur.”

“Iwillbeatmybodyintoruinsforyou.PerhapsIwillfail.Butnoonewilltryharder.”

“Andpayment?”

“Whenyougetthesword,thenpayment.Nowletmegettoworkmeasuring.Inigo—myinstruments.”

Inigoscurriedintothedarkestcornerofthehut.

“Iinsistonleavingsomethingonaccount.”

“Itisnotnecessary;Imayfail.”

“Iinsist.”

“Allright.Onegoldpiece.Leavethat.Butdonotbothermewithmoneywhenthereis

workthatneedsbeginning.”

Thenobletookoutonepieceofgold.

Domingoputitinadrawerandleftit,withoutevenaglance.“Feelyourfingersnow,”hecommanded.“Rubyourhandshard,shakeyourfingers—youwillbeexcitedwhenyouduelandthishandlemustmatchyourhandinthatexcitement;ifI

measuredwhenyouwererelaxed,therewouldbeadifference,asmuchasathousandthofaninchandthatwouldrobusofperfection.AndthatiswhatIseek.Perfection.Iwillnotrestforless.”

Thenoblemanhadtosmile.“Andhowlongwillittaketoreachit?”

“Comebackinayear,”

Domingosaid,andwiththathesettowork.

Suchayear.

Domingosleptonlywhenhedroppedfromexhaustion.HeateonlywhenInigowouldforcehimto.Hestudied,fretted,complained.Henevershouldhavetakenthejob;itwasimpossible.Thenextdayhewouldbeflying:henevershouldhavetakenthejob;it

wastoosimpletobeworthhislabors.Joytodespair,joytodespair,daytoday,hourtohour.SometimesInigowouldwaketofindhimweeping:“Whatisit,Father?”“ItisthatIcannotdoit.Icannotmakethesword.Icannotmakemyhandsobeyme.Iwouldkillmyselfexceptwhatwouldyoudothen?”“Gotosleep,Father.”“No,Idon’tneedsleep.Failuresdon’tneedsleep.Anyway,I

sleptyesterday.”“Please,Father,alittlenap.”“Allright;afewminutes;tokeepyoufromnagging.”

SomenightsInigowouldawaketoseehimdancing.“Whatisit,Father?”“ItisthatIhavefoundmymistakes,correctedmymisjudgments.”“Thenitwillbedonesoon,Father?”“Itwillbedonetomorrowanditwillbeamiracle.”“Youare

wonderful,Father.”“I’mmorewonderfulthanwonderful,howdareyouinsultme.”

Butthenextnight,moretears.“Whatisitnow,Father?”“Thesword,thesword,Icannotmakethesword.”“Butlastnight,Father,yousaidyouhadfoundyourmistakes.”“Iwasmistaken;tonightIfoundnewones,worseones.Iamthe

mostwretchedofcreatures.Sayyouwouldn’tminditifIkilledmyselfsoIcouldendthisexistence.”“ButIwouldmind,Father.IloveyouandIwoulddieifyoustoppedbreathing.”“Youdon’treallyloveme;you’reonlyspeakingpity.”“Whocouldpitythegreatestswordmakerinthehistoryoftheworld?”“Thankyou,Inigo.”“You’rewelcome,Father.”“Iloveyouback,Inigo.”“Sleep,

Father.”“Yes.Sleep.”

Awholeyearofthat.Ayearofthehandlebeingrightbutthebalancebeingwrong,ofthebalancebeingright,butthecuttingedgetoodull,ofthecuttingedgesharpened,butthatthrewthebalanceoffagain,ofthebalancereturning,butnowthepointwasfat,ofthepointregainingsharpness,onlynowtheentirebladewastooshortand

itallhadtogo,allhadtobethrownout,allhadtobedoneagain.Again.Again.Domingo’shealthbegantoleavehim.Hewasfeveredalwaysnow,butheforcedhisfrailshellon,becausethishadtobethefinestsinceExcalibur.Domingowasbattlinglegend,anditwasdestroyinghim.

Suchayear.

OnenightInigowoketofindhisfatherseated.Staring.Calm.Inigofollowedthestare.

Thesix-fingeredswordwasdone.

Eveninthehut’sdarkness,itglistened.

“Atlast,”Domingowhispered.Hecouldnottakehiseyesfromthegloryofthe

sword.“Afteralifetime,Inigo.Inigo.Iamanartist.”

Thebig-shoulderednoblemandidnotagree.Whenhereturnedtopurchasethesword,hemerelylookedatitamoment.“Notworthwaitingfor,”hesaid.

Inigostoodinthecornerofthehut,watching,holdinghisbreath.

“Youaredisappointed?”Domingocouldscarcelygetthewordsspoken.

“I’mnotsayingit’strash,youunderstand,”thenoblemanwenton.“Butit’scertainlynotworthfivehundredpiecesofgold.I’llgiveyouten;it’sprobablyworththat.”

“Wrong!”Domingocried.“Itisnotworthten.Itisnotworthevenone.Here.”And

hethrewopenthedrawerwheretheonegoldpiecehadlainuntouchedtheyear.“Thegoldisyours.Allofit.Youhavelostnothing.”Hetookbacktheswordandturnedaway.

“I’lltakethesword,”thenoblemansaid.“Ididn’tsayIwouldn’ttakeit.IonlysaidIwouldpaywhatitwasworth.”

Domingowhirledback,eyesbright.“Youquibbled.Youhaggled.Artwasinvolvedandyousawonlymoney.Beautywashereforthetakingandyousawonlyyourfatpurse.Youhavelostnothing;thereisnomorereasonforyourremaininghere.Pleasego.”

“Thesword,”thenoblesaid.

“Theswordbelongstomy

son,”Domingosaid.“Igiveittohimnow.Itisforeverhis.Good-by.”

“You’reapeasantandafoolandIwantmysword.”

“You’reanenemyofartandIpityyourignorance,”Domingosaid.

Theywerethelastwordsheeveruttered.

Thenoblekilledhimthen,withnowarning;aflashofthenobleman’sswordandDomingo’sheartwastorntopieces.

Inigoscreamed.Hecouldnotbelieveit;ithadnothappened.Hescreamedagain.Hisfatherwasfine;soontheywouldhavetea.Hecouldnotstopscreaming.

Thevillageheard.Twenty

menwereatthedoor.Thenoblemanpushedhiswaythroughthem.“Thatmanattackedme.See?Heholdsasword.HeattackedmeandIdefendedmyself.Nowmovefrommyway.”

Itwaslies,ofcourse,andeveryoneknewit.Buthewasanoblesowhatwastheretodo?Theyparted,andthenoblemanmountedhishorse.

“Coward!”

Thenoblemanwhirled.

“Pig!”

Againthecrowdparted.

Inigostoodthere,holdingthesix-fingeredsword,repeatinghiswords:“Coward.Pig.Killer.”

“Someonetendthebabe

beforeheoverstepshimself,”thenoblesaidtothecrowd.

Inigoranforwardthen,standinginfrontofthenobleman’shorse,blockingthenobleman’spath.Heraisedthesix-fingeredswordwithbothhishandsandcried,“I,InigoMontoya,dochallengeyou,coward,pig,killer,ass,fool,tobattle.”

“Gethimoutofmyway.

Movetheinfant.”

“Theinfantistenandhestays,”Inigosaid.

“Enoughofyourfamilyisdeadforoneday;becontent,”saidthenoble.

“Whenyoubegmeforyourbreath,thenIshallbecontented.Nowdismount!”

Thenoblemandismounted.

“Drawyoursword.”

Thenoblemanunsheathedhiskillingweapon.

“Idedicateyourdeathtomyfather,”Inigosaid.“Begin.”

Theybegan.

Itwasnomatch,ofcourse.Inigowasdisarmedinlessthanaminute.Butforthefirstfifteensecondsorso,the

noblewasuneasy.Duringthosefifteenseconds,strangethoughtscrossedhismind.Forevenattheageoften,Inigo’sgeniuswasthere.

Disarmed,Inigostoodverystraight.Hesaidnotaword,beggednothing.

“I’mnotgoingtokillyou,”thenoblemansaid.“Becauseyouhavetalentandyou’rebrave.Butyou’realsolacking

inmanners,andthat’sgoingtogetyouintroubleifyou’renotcareful.SoIshallhelpyouasyougothroughlife,byleavingyouwithareminderthatbadmannersaretobeavoided.”Andwiththathisbladeflashed.Twotimes.

AndInigo’sfacebegantobleed.Tworiversofbloodpouredfromhisforeheadtohischin,onecrossingeachcheek.Everyonewatching

knewitthen:theboywasscarredforlife.

Inigowouldnotfall.Theworldwentwhitebehindhiseyesbuthewouldnotgotoground.Thebloodcontinuedtopour.Thenoblemanreplacedhissword,remounted,rodeon.

ItwasonlythenthatInigoallowedthedarknesstoclaimhim.

HeawoketoYeste’sface.

“Iwasbeaten,”Inigowhispered.“Ifailedhim.”

Yestecouldonlysay,“Sleep.”

Inigoslept.Thebleedingstoppedafteradayandthepainstoppedafteraweek.TheyburiedDomingo,andforthefirstandlasttimeInigoleftArabella.Hisface

bandaged,herodeinYeste’scarriagetoMadrid,wherehelivedinYeste’shouse,obeyedYeste’scommands.Afteramonth,thebandageswereremoved,butthescarswerestilldeepred.Eventually,theysoftenedsome,buttheyalwaysremainedthechieffeaturesofInigo’sface:thegiantparallelscarsrunningoneoneachside,fromtempletochin.Fortwoyears,Yestecaredfor

him.

Thenonemorning,Inigowasgone.Inhisplacewerethreewords:“Imustlearn”onanotepinnedtohispillow.

Learn?Learnwhat?WhatexistedbeyondMadridthatthechildhadtocommittomemory?Yesteshruggedandsighed.Itwasbeyondhim.Therewasnounderstandingchildrenanymore.

Everythingwaschangingtoofastandtheyoungweredifferent.Beyondhim,beyondhim,lifewasbeyondhim,theworldwasbeyondhim,younameit,itwasbeyondhim.Hewasafatmanwhomadeswords.Thatmuchheknew.

Sohemademoreswordsandhegrewfatterandtheyearswentby.Ashisfigurespread,sodidhisfame.Fromall

acrosstheworldtheycame,begginghimforweapons,sohedoubledhispricesbecausehedidn’twanttoworktoohardanymore,hewasgettingold,butwhenhedoubledhisprices,whenthenewsspreadfromduketoprincetoking,theyonlywantedhimthemoredesperately.Nowthewaitwastwoyearsforaswordandtheline-upofroyaltywasunendingandYestewasgrowingtired,so

hedoubledhispricesagain,andwhenthatdidn’tstopthem,hedecidedtotriplehisalreadydoubledandredoubledpricesandbesidesthat,allworkhadtobepaidforinjewelsinadvanceandthewaitwasuptothreeyears,butnothingwouldstopthem.TheyhadtohaveswordsbyYesteornothing,andeventhoughtheworkonthefinestwasnowherewhatitoncewas(Domingo,after

all,nolongercouldsavehim)thesillyrichmendidn’tnotice.Alltheywantedwashisweaponsandtheyfellovereachotherwithjewelsforhim.

Yestegrewveryrich.

Andveryheavy.

Everypartofhisbodysagged.HehadtheonlyfatthumbsinMadrid.Dressing

tookanhour,breakfastthesame,everythingwentslowly.

Buthecouldstillmakeswords.Andpeoplestillcravedthem.“I’msorry,”hesaidtotheyoungSpaniardwhoenteredhisshoponeparticularmorning.“ThewaitisuptofouryearsandevenIamembarrassedtomentiontheprice.Haveyourweaponmadebyanother.”

“Ihavemyweapon,”theSpaniardsaid.

Andhethrewthesix-fingeredswordacrossYeste’sworkbench.

Suchembraces.

“Neverleaveagain,”Yestesaid.“IeattoomuchwhenI’mlonely.”

“Icannotstay,”Inigotold

him.“I’monlyheretoaskyouonequestion.Asyouknow,Ihavespentthelasttenyearslearning.NowIhavecomeforyoutotellmeifI’mready.”

“Ready?Forwhat?Whatintheworldhaveyoubeenlearning?”

“Thesword.”

“Madness,”saidYeste.“You

havespenttenentireyearsjustlearningtofence?”

“No,notjustlearningtofence,”Inigoanswered.“Ididmanyotherthingsaswell.”

“Tellme.”

“Well,”Inigobegan,“tenyearsiswhat?Aboutthirty-sixhundreddays.Andthat’sabout—Ifiguredthisoutonce,soIrememberpretty

well—abouteighty-sixthousandhours.Well,Ialwaysmadeitapointtogetfourhourssleeppernight.That’sfourteenthousandhoursrightthere,leavingmeperhapsseventy-twothousandhourstoaccountfor.”

“Youslept.I’mwithyou.Whatelse?”

“Well,Isqueezedrocks.”

“I’msorry,myhearingsometimesfailsme;itsoundedlikeyousaidyousqueezedrocks.”

“Tomakemywristsstrong.SoIcouldcontrolthesword.Rockslikeapples.Thatsize.Iwouldsqueezethemineachhandforperhapstwohoursaday.AndIwouldspendanothertwohoursadayinskippinganddodgingandmovingquickly,sothatmy

feetwouldbeabletogetmeintopositiontodeliverproperlythethrustofthesword.That’sanotherfourteenthousandhours.I’mdowntofifty-eightthousandnow.Well,IalwayssprintedtwohourseachdayasfastasIcould,somylegs,aswellasbeingquick,wouldalsobestrong.Andthatgetsmedowntoaboutfiftythousandhours.”

Yesteexaminedtheyoungmanbeforehim.Bladethin,sixfeetinheight,straightasasapling,brighteyed,taut;evenmotionlessheseemedwhippetquick.“Andtheselastfiftythousandhours?Thesehavebeenspentstudyingthesword?”

Inigonodded.

“Where?”

“WhereverIcouldfindamaster.Venice,Bruges,Budapest.”

“Icouldhavetaughtyouhere?”

“True.Butyoucareforme.Youwouldnothavebeenruthless.Youwouldhavesaid,‘Excellentparry,Inigo,nowthat’senoughforoneday;let’shavesupper.’“

“Thatdoessoundlikeme,”Yesteadmitted.“Butwhywasitsoimportant?Whywasitworthsomuchofyourlife?”

“BecauseIcouldnotfailhimagain.”

“Failwho?”

“Myfather.Ihavespentalltheseyearspreparingtofindthesix-fingeredmanandkill

himinaduel.Butheisamaster,Yeste.HesaidasmuchandIsawthewayhisswordflewatDomingo.ImustnotlosethatduelwhenIfindhim,sonowIhavecometoyou.Youknowswordsandswordsmen.Youmustnotlie.AmIready?IfyousayIam,Iwillseekhimthroughtheworld.Ifyousayno,Iwillspendanothertenyearsandanothertenafterthat,ifthatisneeded.”

SotheywenttoYeste’scourtyard.Itwaslatemorning.Hot.Yesteputhisbodyinachairandthechairintheshade.Inigostoodwaitinginthesunshine.“Weneednottestdesireandweknowyouhavesufficientmotivetodeliverthedeathblow,”Yestesaid.“Thereforeweneedonlyprobeyourknowledgeandspeedandstamina.Weneednoenemyforthis.Theenemyisalways

inthemind.Visualizehim.”

Inigodrewhissword.

“Thesix-fingeredmantauntsyou,”Yestecalled.“Dowhatyoucan.”

Inigobegantoleaparoundthecourtyard,thegreatbladeflashing.

“HeusestheAgrippadefense,”Yesteshouted.

Immediately,Inigoshiftedposition,increasedthespeedofhissword.

“NowhesurprisesyouwithBonetti’sattack.”

ButInigowasnotsurprisedforlong.Againhisfeetshifted;hemovedhisbodyadifferentway.Perspirationwaspouringdownhisthinframenowandthegreatbladewasblinding.Yeste

continuedtoshout.Inigocontinuedtoshift.Thebladeneverstopped.

Atthreeintheafternoon,Yestesaid,“Enough.Iamexhaustedfromthewatching.”

Inigosheathedthesix-fingeredswordandwaited.

“YouwishtoknowifIfeelyouarereadytodueltothe

deathamanruthlessenoughtokillyourfather,richenoughtobuyprotection,olderandmoreexperienced,anacknowledgedmaster.”

Inigonodded.

“I’lltellyouthetruth,andit’suptoyoutolivewithit.First,therehasneverbeenamasterasyoungasyou.Thirtyyearsatleastbeforethatrankhasyetbeenreached,andyouare

barelytwenty-two.Well,thetruthisyouareanimpetuousboydrivenbymadnessandyouarenotnowandyouwillneverbeamaster.”

“Thankyouforyourhonesty,”Inigosaid.“ImusttellyouIhadhopedforbetternews.Ifinditveryhardtospeakjustnow,soifyou’llpleaseexcuseme,I’llbeonmy—”

“Ihadnotfinished,”Yestesaid.

“Whatelseistheretosay?”

“Ilovedyourfatherverydearly,thatyouknow,butthisyoudidnotknow:whenwewereveryyoung,notyettwenty,wesaw,withourowneyes,anexhibitionbytheCorsicanWizard,Bastia.”

“Iknowofnowizards.”

“Itistherankbeyondmasterinswordsmanship,”Yestesaid.“Bastiawasthelastmansodesignated.Longbeforeyourbirth,hediedatsea.Therehavebeennowizardssince,andyouwouldneverinthisworldhavebeatenhim.ButItellyouthis:hewouldneverinthisworldhavebeatenyou.”

Inigostoodsilentforalongtime.“Iamreadythen.”

“Iwouldnotenjoybeingthesix-fingeredman”wasallYestereplied.

Thenextmorning,Inigobeganthetrack-down.Hehaditallcarefullypreparedinhismind.Hewouldfindthesix-fingeredman.Hewouldgouptohim.Hewouldsaysimply,“Hello,mynameisInigoMontoya,youkilledmyfather,preparetodie,”andthen,ohthen,theduel.

Itwasalovelyplanreally.Simple,direct.Nofrills.Inthebeginning,Inigohadallkindsofwildvengeancenotions,butgradually,simplicityhadseemedthebetterway.Originally,hehadallkindsoflittleplaysworkedoutinhismind—theenemywouldweepandbeg,theenemywouldcringeandcry,theenemywouldbribeandslobberandactineverywayunmanly.Buteventually,

thesetoogavewayinhismindtosimplicity:theenemywouldsimplysay,“Oh,yes,Irememberkillinghim;I’llbeonlytoodelightedtokillyoutoo.”

Inigohadonlyoneproblem:hecouldnotfindtheenemy.

Itneveroccurredtohimtherewouldbetheleastdifficulty.Afterall,howmanynoblemenweretherewithsix

fingersontheirrighthands?Surely,itwouldbethetalkofwhateverhisvicinityhappenedtobe.Afewquestions:“Pardon,I’mnotcrazy,buthaveyouseenanysix-fingerednoblemenlately?”andsurely,soonerorlater,therewouldbeananswering“yes.”

Butitdidn’tcomesooner.

Andlaterwasn’tthekindof

thingyouwantedtoholdyourbreathforeither.

Thefirstmonthwasn’tallthatdiscouraging.Inigocriss-crossedSpainandPortugal.ThesecondmonthhemovedtoFranceandspenttherestoftheyearthere.TheyearfollowingthatwashisItalianyear,andthencameGermanyandthewholeofSwitzerland.

Itwasonlyafterfivesolid

yearsoffailurethathebegantoworry.BythenhehadseenalloftheBalkansandmostofScandinaviaandhadvisitedtheFlorineseandthenativesofGuilderandintoMotherRussiaanddownstepbysteparoundtheentireMediterranean.

Bythenheknewwhathadhappened:tenyearslearningwastenyearstoolong;toomuchhadbeenallowedto

happen.Thesix-fingeredmanwasprobablycrusadinginAsia.OrgettingrichinAmerica.OrahermitintheEastIndies.Or...or...

Dead?

Inigo,attheageoftwenty-seven,beganhavingafewextraglassesofwineatnight,tohelphimgettosleep.Attwenty-eight,hewashavingafewextraglassestohelphim

digesthislunch.Attwenty-nine,thewinewasessentialtowakehiminthemorning.Hisworldwascollapsingaroundhim.Notonlywashelivingindailyfailure,somethingalmostasdreadfulwasbeginningtohappen:

Fencingwasbeginningtoborehim.

Hewassimplytoogood.Hewouldmakehislivingduring

histravelsbyfindingthelocalchampionwhereverhehappenedtobe,andtheywouldduel,andInigowoulddisarmhimandacceptwhatevertheyhappenedtobet.Andwithhiswinningshewouldpayforhisfoodandhislodgingandhiswine.

Butthelocalchampionswerenothing.Eveninthebigcities,thelocalexpertswerenothing.Eveninthecapital

cities,thelocalmasterswerenothing.Therewasnocompetition,nothingtohelphimkeepanedge.Hislifebegantoseempointless,hisquestpointless,everything,everything,withoutreason.

Atthirtyhegaveuptheghost.Hestoppedhissearch,forgottoeat,sleptonlyonoccasion.Hehadhiswineforcompanyandthatwasenough.

Hewasashell.ThegreatestfencingmachinesincetheCorsicanWizardwasbarelyevenpracticingthesword.

HewasinthatconditionwhentheSicilianfoundhim.

Atfirstthelittlehunchbackonlysuppliedhimwithstrongerwine.Butthen,throughacombinationofpraiseandnudging,theSicilianbegantogethimoff

thebottle.BecausetheSicilianhadadream:withhisguileplustheTurk’sstrengthplustheSpaniard’ssword,theymightbecomethemosteffectivecriminalorganizationinthecivilizedworld.

Whichispreciselywhattheybecame.

Indarkplaces,theirnameswhippedsharperthanfear;

everyonehadneedsthatwerehardtofulfill.TheSicilianCrowd(twowascompany,threeacrowd,eventhen)becamemoreandmorefamousandmoreandmorerich.Nothingwasbeyondorbeneaththem.Inigo’sbladewasflashingagain,morethaneverlikelightning.TheTurk’sstrengthgrewmoreprodigiouswiththemonths.

Butthehunchbackwasthe

leader.Therewasneverdoubt.Withouthim,Inigoknewwherehewouldbe:onhisbackbeggingwineinsomealleyentrance.TheSicilian’swordwasnotjustlaw,itwasgospel.

Sowhenhesaid,“Killthemaninblack,”allotherpossibilitiesceasedtoexist.Themaninblackhadtodie....

Inigopacedthecliffedge,fingerssnapping.Fiftyfeetbelowhimnow,themaninblackstillclimbed.Inigo’simpatiencewasbeginningtobubblebeyondcontrol.Hestareddownattheslowprogress.Findacrevice,jaminthehand,findanothercrevice,jamintheotherhand;forty-eightfeettogo.Inigoslappedhisswordhandle,andhisfingersnappingbegantogofaster.

Heexaminedthehoodedclimber,halfhopinghewouldbesixfingered,butno;thisonehadtheproperaccompanimentofdigits.

Forty-sevenfeettogonow.

Nowforty-six.

“Hellothere,”Inigoholleredwhenhecouldwaitnomore.

Themaninblackglancedup

andgrunted.

“I’vebeenwatchingyou.”

Themaninblacknodded.

“Slowgoing,”Inigosaid.

“Look,Idon’tmeantoberude,”themaninblacksaidfinally,“butI’mratherbusyjustnow,sotrynottodistractme.”

“I’msorry,”Inigosaid.

Themaninblackgruntedagain.

“Idon’tsupposeyoucouldspeedthingsup,”Inigosaid.

“Ifyouwanttospeedthingsupsomuch,”themaninblacksaid,clearlyquiteangrynow,“youcouldloweraropeoratreebranchorfindsomeotherhelpfulthingtodo.”

“Icoulddothat,”Inigoagreed.“ButIdon’tthinkyouwouldacceptmyhelp,sinceI’monlywaitingupheresothatIcankillyou.”

“Thatdoesputadamperonourrelationship,”themaninblacksaidthen.“I’mafraidyou’lljusthavetowait.”

Forty-threefeetleft.

Forty-one.

“IcouldgiveyoumywordasaSpaniard,”Inigosaid.

“Nogood,”themaninblackreplied.“I’veknowntoomanySpaniards.”

“I’mgoingcrazyuphere,”Inigosaid.

“Anytimeyouwanttochangeplaces,I’dbetoohappytoaccept.”

Thirty-ninefeet.

Andresting.

Themaninblackjusthunginspace,feetdangling,theentireweightofhisbodysupportedbythestrengthofhishandjammedintothecrevice.

“Comealongnow,”Inigopleaded.

“It’sbeenabitofaclimb,”themaninblackexplained,“andI’mweary.I’llbefineinaquarter-hourorso.”

Anotherquarter-hour!Inconceivable.“Look,we’vegotapieceofextraropeupherewedidn’tneedwhenwemadeouroriginalclimb,I’lljustdropitdowntoyouandyougrabholdandI’llpulland—”

“Nogood,”themaninblackrepeated.“Youmightpull,butthenagain,youalsojustmightletgo,which,sinceyou’reinahurrytokillme,wouldcertainlydothejobquickly.”

“Butyouwouldn’thaveeverknownIwasgoingtokillyouifIhadn’tbeentheonetotellyou.Doesn’tthatletyouknowIcanbetrusted?”

“Frankly,andIhopeyou

won’tbeinsulted,no.”

“There’snowayyou’lltrustme?”

“Nothingcomestomind.”

SuddenlyInigoraisedhisrighthandhigh—”IswearonthesoulofDomingoMontoyayouwillreachthetopalive!”

Themaninblackwassilent

foralongtime.Thenhelookedup.“IdonotknowthisDomingoofyours,butsomethinginyourtonesaysImustbelieveyou.Throwmetherope.”

Inigoquicklytieditaroundarock,droppeditover.Themaninblackgrabbedhold,hungsuspendedaloneinspace.Inigopulled.Inamoment,themaninblackwasbesidehim.

“Thankyou,”themaninblacksaid,andhesankdownontherock.

Inigosatalongsidehim.“We’llwaituntilyou’reready,”hesaid.

Themaninblackbreatheddeeply.“Again,thankyou.”

“Whyhaveyoufollowedus?”

“Youcarrybaggageofmuchvalue.”

“Wehavenointentionofselling,”Inigosaid.

“Thatisyourbusiness.”

“Andyours?”

Themaninblackmadenoreply.

Inigostoodandwalkedaway,

surveyingtheterrainoverwhichtheywouldbattle.Itwasasplendidplateau,really,filledwithtreesfordodgingaroundandrootsfortrippingoverandsmallrocksforlosingyourbalanceonandbouldersforleapingoffifyoucouldclimbonthemfastenough,andbathingeverything,theentirespot,moonlight.Onecouldnotaskforamoresuitabletestinggroundforaduel,Inigo

decided.Ithadeverything,includingthemarvelousCliffsatoneend,beyondwhichwasthewonderfulthousand-footdrop,alwayssomethingtobearinmindwhenonewasplanningtactics.Itwasperfect.Theplacewasperfect.

Providedthemaninblackcouldfence.

Reallyfence.

Inigodidthenwhathealwaysdidbeforeaduel:hetookthegreatswordfromitsscabbardandtouchedthesideofthebladetohisfacetwotimes,oncealongonescar,oncealongtheother.

Thenheexaminedthemaninblack,Afinesailor,yes;amightyclimber,noquestion;courageous,withoutadoubt.

Butcouldhefence?

Reallyfence?

Please,Inigothought.IthasbeensolongsinceIhavebeentested,letthismantestme.Lethimbeagloriousswordsman.Lethimbebothquickandfast,smartandstrong.Givehimamatchlessmindfortactics,abackgroundtheequalofmine.Please,please,it’sbeensolong:let—him—be—a—master!

“Ihavemybreathbacknow,”themaninblacksaidfromtherock.“Thankyouforallowingmemyrest.”

“We’dbestgetonwithitthen,”Inigoreplied.

Themaninblackstood.

“Youseemadecentfellow,”Inigosaid.“Ihatetokillyou.”

“Youseemadecentfellow,”answeredthemaninblack.“Ihatetodie.”

“Butoneofusmust,”Inigosaid.”Begin.”

Andsosayinghetookthesix-fingeredsword.

Andputitintohislefthand.

Hehadbegunallhisduelsleft-handedlately.Itwas

goodpracticeforhim,andalthoughhewastheonlylivingwizardintheworldwithhisregularhand,theright,still,hewasmorethanworthywithhisleft.Perhapsthirtymenalivewerehisequalwhenheusedhisleft.Perhapsasmanyasfifty;perhapsasfewasten.

Themaninblackwasalsoleft-handedandthatwarmedInigo;itmadethingsfairer.

Hisweaknessagainsttheotherman’sstrength.Alltothegood.

Theytouchedswords,andthemaninblackimmediatelybegantheAgrippadefense,whichInigofeltwassound,consideringtherockyterrain,fortheAgrippakeptthefeetstationaryatfirst,andmadethechancesofslippingminimal.Naturally,hecounteredwithCapoFerro

whichsurprisedthemaninblack,buthedefendedwell,quicklyshiftingoutofAgrippaandtakingtheattackhimself,usingtheprinciplesofThibault.

Inigohadtosmile.Noonehadtakentheattackagainsthiminsolonganditwasthrilling!Heletthemaninblackadvance,lethimbuildupcourage,retreatinggracefullybetweensome

trees,lettinghisBonettidefensekeephimsafefromharm.

Thenhislegsflickedandhewasbehindthenearesttree,andthemaninblackhadnotexpecteditandwasslowreacting.Inigoflashedimmediatelyoutfromthetree,attackinghimselfnow,andthemaninblackretreated,stumbled,gothisbalance,continuedmoving

away.

Inigowasimpressedwiththequicknessofthebalancereturn.Mostmenthesizeofthemaninblackwouldhavegonedownor,attheleast,fallentoonehand.Themaninblackdidneither;hesimplyquickstepped,wrenchedhisbodyerect,continuedfighting.

Theyweremovingparallelto

theCliffsnow,andthetreeswerebehindthem,mostly.Themaninblackwasslowlybeingforcedtowardagroupoflargeboulders,forInigowasanxioustoseehowwellhemovedwhenquarterswereclose,whenyoucouldnotthrustorparrywithtotalfreedom.Hecontinuedtoforce,andthenthebouldersweresurroundingthem.Inigosuddenlythrewhisbodyagainstanearbyrock,

reboundedoffitwithstunningforce,lungingwithincrediblespeed.

Firstbloodwashis.

Hehadpinkedthemaninblack,grazedhimonly,alongtheleftwrist.Ascratchwasall.Butitwasbleeding.

Immediatelythemaninblackhurriedhisretreat,gettinghispositionawayfromthe

boulders,gettingoutintotheopenoftheplateau.Inigofollowed,notbotheringtotrytochecktheotherman’sflight;therewouldalwaysbetimeforthatlater.

Thenthemaninblacklaunchedhisgreatestassault.Itcamewithnowarningandthespeedandstrengthofitwereterrifying.Hisbladeflashedinthelightagainandagain,andatfirst,Inigowas

onlytoodelightedtoretreat.Hewasnotentirelyfamiliarwiththestyleoftheattack;itwasmostlyMcBone,butthereweresnatchesofCapoFerrothrownin,andhecontinuedmovingbackwardwhileheconcentratedontheenemy,figuringthebestwaytostoptheassault.

Themaninblackkeptadvancing,andInigowasawarethatbehindhimnowhe

wascomingcloserandclosertotheedgeoftheCliffs,butthatcouldnothaveconcernedhimless.Theimportantthingwastooutthinktheenemy,findhisweakness,lethimhavehismomentofexultation.

Suddenly,astheCliffscameevernearer,Inigorealizedthefaultintheattackthatwasflashingathim;asimpleThibaultmaneuverwould

destroyitentirely,buthedidn’twanttogiveitawaysosoon.Lettheothermanhavethetriumphamomentlonger;lifeallowedsofew.

TheCliffswereveryclosebehindhimnow.

Inigocontinuedtoretreat;themaninblackcontinuedadvancing.

ThenInigocounteredwith

theThibault.

Andthemaninblackblockedit.

Heblockedit!

InigorepeatedtheThibaultmoveandagainitdidn’twork.HeswitchedtoCapoFerro,hetriedBonetti,hewenttoFabris;indesperationhebeganamoveusedonlytwice,bySainct.

Nothingworked!

Themaninblackkeptattacking.

AndtheCliffswerealmostthere.

Inigoneverpanicked—nevercameclose.Buthedecidedsomethingsveryquickly,becausetherewasnotimeforlongconsultations,andwhathedecidedwasthatalthough

themaninblackwasslowinreactingtomovesbehindtrees,andnotmuchgoodatallamidstboulders,whenmovementwasrestricted,yetoutintheopen,wheretherewasspace,hewasaterror.Aleft-handedblack-maskedterror.“Youaremostexcellent,”hesaid.Hisrearfootwasatthecliffedge.Hecouldretreatnomore.

“Thankyou,”themanin

blackreplied.“Ihaveworkedveryhardtobecomeso.”

“YouarebetterthanIam,”Inigoadmitted.

“Soitseems.Butifthatistrue,thenwhyareyousmiling?”

“Because,”Inigoanswered,“Iknowsomethingyoudon’tknow.”

“Andwhatisthat?”askedthemaninblack.

“I’mnotleft-handed,”Inigoreplied,andwiththosewords,heallbutthrewthesix-fingeredswordintohisrighthand,andthetideofbattleturned.

Themaninblackretreatedbeforetheslashingofthegreatsword.Hetriedtoside-step,triedtoparry,triedto

somehowescapethedoomthatwasnowinevitable.Buttherewasnoway.Hecouldblockfiftythrusts;thefifty-firstflickedthrough,andnowhisleftarmwasbleeding.Hecouldthwartthirtyripostes,butnotthethirty-first,andnowhisshoulderbled.

Thewoundswerenotyetgrave,buttheykeptoncomingastheydodgedacrossthestones,andthentheman

inblackfoundhimselfamidstthetreesandthatwasbadforhim,soheallbutfledbeforeInigo’sonslaught,andthenhewasintheopenagain,butInigokeptcoming,nothingcouldstophim,andthenthemaninblackwasbackamongtheboulders,andthatwasevenworseforhimthanthetreesandheshoutedoutinfrustrationandpracticallyrantowheretherewasopenspaceagain.

Buttherewasnodealingwiththewizard,andslowly,again,thedeadlyCliffsbecameafactorinthefight,onlynowitwasthemaninblackwhowasbeingforcedtodoom.Hewasbrave,andhewasstrong,andthecutsdidnotmakehimbegformercy,andheshowednofearbehindhisblackmask.“Youareamazing,”hecried,asInigoincreasedthealreadyblindingspeedoftheblade.

“Thankyou.Ithasnotcomewithouteffort.”

Thedeathmomentwasathandnow.AgainandagainInigothrustforward,andagainandagainthemaninblackmanagedtowardofftheattacks,buteachtimeitwasharder,andthestrengthinInigo’swristswasendlessandheonlythrustthemorefiercelyandsoonthemaninblackgrewweak.“You

cannottellit,”hesaidthen,“becauseIwearacapeandmask.ButIamsmilingnow.”

“Why?”

“BecauseI’mnotleft-handedeither,”saidthemaninblack.

Andhetooswitchedhands,andnowthebattlewasfinallyjoined.

AndInigobegantoretreat.

“Whoareyou?”hescreamed.

“Nooneofimport.Anotherloveroftheblade.”

“Imustknow!”

“Getusedtodisappointment.”

Theyflashedalongtheopenplateaunow,andthebladeswerebothinvisible,butoh,theEarthtrembled,and

ohhhh,theskiesshook,andInigowaslosing.Hetriedtomakeforthetrees,butthemaninblackwouldhavenoneofit.Hetriedretreatingtotheboulders,butthatwasdeniedhimtoo.

Andintheopen,unthinkableasitwas,themaninblackwassuperior.Notmuch.Butinamultitudeoftinyways,hewasofaslightlyhigherquality.Ahairquicker,a

fractionstronger,aspeckfaster.Notreallymuchatall.

Butitwasenough.

Theymetincenterplateauforthefinalassault.Neithermanconcededanything.Thesoundofmetalclashingmetalrose.AfinalburstofenergyflewthroughInigo’sveinsandhemadeeveryattempt,triedeverytrick,usedeveryhourofeverydayofhisyears

ofexperience.Buthewasblocked.Bythemaninblack.Hewasshackled.Bythemaninblack.Hewasbaffled,thwarted,muzzled.

Beaten.

Bythemaninblack.

Afinalflickandthegreatsix-fingeredswordwentflyingfromhishand.Inigostoodthere,helpless.Thenhe

droppedtohisknees,bowedhishead,closedhiseyes.“Doitquickly,”hesaid.

“MaymyhandsfallfrommywristsbeforeIkillanartistlikeyourself,”saidthemaninblack.“IwouldassoondestroydaVinci.However”—andhereheclubbedInigo’sheadwiththebuttofhissword—”sinceIcan’thaveyoufollowingmeeither,pleaseunderstandthat

Iholdyouinthehighestrespect.”HestruckonemoretimeandtheSpaniardfellunconscious.ThemaninblackquicklytiedInigo’shandsaroundatreeandlefthimthere,forthemoment,sleepingandhelpless.

Thenhesheathedhissword,pickeduptheSicilian’strail,andracedintothenight....

“HehasbeatenInigo!”theTurksaid,notquitesurehewantedtobelieveit,butpositivethatthenewswassad;helikedInigo.Inigowastheonlyonewhowouldn’tlaughwhenFezzikaskedhimtoplayrhymes.

TheywerehurryingalongamountainouspathonthewaytotheGuilderfrontier.Thepathwasnarrowandstrewnwithrockslikecannonballs,

sotheSicilianhadaterribletimekeepingup.FezzikcarriedButtercuplightlyonhisshoulders;shewasstilltiedhandandfoot.

“Ididn’thearyou,sayitagain,”theSiciliancalledout,soFezzikwaitedforthehunchbacktocatchuptohim.

“See?”Fezzikpointedthen.Fardown,attheverybottomofthemountainpath,theman

inblackcouldbeseenrunning.“Inigoisbeaten.”

“Inconceivable!”explodedtheSicilian.

Fezzikneverdareddisagreewiththehunchback.“I’msostupid,”Fezziknodded.“Inigohasnotlosttothemaninblack,hehasdefeatedhim.Andtoproveithehasputonallthemaninblack’sclothesandmasksandhoodsand

bootsandgainedeightypounds.”

TheSiciliansquinteddowntowardtherunningfigure.“Fool,”hehurledattheTurk.“Afteralltheseyearscan’tyoutellInigowhenyouseehim?Thatisn’tInigo.”

“I’llneverlearn,”theTurkagreed.“Ifthere’severaquestionaboutanything,youcanalwayscountonmeto

getitwrong.”

“Inigomusthaveslippedorbeentrickedorotherwiseunfairlybeaten.That’stheonlyconceivableexplanation.”

Conceivablebelievable,thegiantthought.Onlyhedidn’tdaresayitoutloud.NottotheSicilian.HemighthavewhisperedittoInigolateatnight,butthatwasbefore

Inigowasdead.HealsomighthavewhisperedheavablethievableweavablebutthatwasasfarashegotbeforetheSicilianstartedtalkingagain,andthatalwaysmeanthehadtopayverystrictattention.NothingangeredthehunchbackasquicklyascatchingFezzikthinking.SincehebarelyimaginedsomeonelikeFezzikcapableofthought,heneveraskedwhatwasonhis

mind,becausehecouldn’thavecaredless.IfhehadfoundoutFezzikwasmakingrhymes,hewouldhavelaughedandthenfoundnewwaystomakeFezziksuffer.

“Untieherfeet,”theSiciliancommanded.

FezzikputthePrincessdownandrippedtheropesapartthatboundherlegs.Thenherubbedheranklessoshe

couldwalk.

TheSiciliangrabbedherimmediatelyandyankedheraway.“Catchupwithusquickly,”theSiciliansaid.

“Instructions?”Fezzikcalledout,almostpanicked.Hehatedbeingleftonhisownlikethis.

“Finishhim,finishhim.”TheSicilianwasgettingpeeved.

“Succeed,sinceInigofailedus.”

“ButIcan’tfence,Idon’tknowhowtofence—”

“Yourway.”TheSiciliancouldbarelycontrolhimselfnow.

“Ohyes,good,myway,thankyou,Vizzini,”Fezziksaidtothehunchback.Then,summoningallhiscourage:

“Ineedahint.”

“You’realwayssayinghowyouunderstandforce,howforcebelongstoyou.Useit,Idon’tcarehow.Waitforhimbehindthere”—hepointedtoasharpbendinthemountainpath—”andcrushhisheadlikeaneggshell.”Hepointedtothecannonball-sizedrocks.

“Icoulddothat,yes,”Fezziknodded.Hewasmarvelousat

throwingheavythings.“Itjustseemsnotverysportsmanlike,doesn’tit?”

TheSicilianlostcontrol.Itwasterrifyingwhenhedidit.Withmostpeople,theyscreamandhollerandjumparound.WithVizzini,itwasdifferent:hegotveryveryquiet,andhisvoicesoundedlikeitcamefromadeadthroat.Andhiseyesturnedtofire.“ItellyouthisandItell

itonce:stopthemaninblack.Stophimforgoodandall.Ifyoufail,therewillbenoexcuses;Iwillfindanothergiant.”

“Pleasedon’tdesertme,”Fezziksaid.

“Thendoasyouaretold.”HegrabbedholdofButtercupagainandhobbledupthemountainpathandoutofsight.

Fezzikglanceddowntowardthefigureracingupthepathtowardhim.Stillagooddistanceaway.Timeenoughtopractice.Fezzikpickeduparockthesizeofacannonballandaimedatacrackinthemountainthirtyyardsaway.

Swoosh.

Deadcenter.

Hepickedupabiggerrockandthrewitatashadowlinetwiceasdistant.

Notquiteswoosh.

Twoinchestotheright.

Fezzikwasreasonablysatisfied.Twoinchesoffwouldstillcrushaheadifyouaimedforthecenter.Hegropedaround,foundaperfectrockforthrowing;it

justfithishand.Thenhemovedtothesharpturninthepath,backedoffintodeepestshadow.Unseen,silent,hewaitedpatientlywithhiskillingrock,countingthesecondsuntilthemaninblackwoulddie....

FEZZIK

Turkishwomenarefamous

forthesizeoftheirbabies.Theonlyhappynewbornevertoweighovertwenty-fourpoundsuponentrancewastheproductofasouthernTurkishunion.Turkishhospitalrecordslistatotalofelevenchildrenwhoweighedovertwentypoundsatbirth.Andninety-fivemorewhoweighedbetweenfifteenandtwenty.Nowallofthese106cherubsdidwhatbabiesusuallydoatbirth:theylost

threeorfourouncesandittookthemthebetterpartofaweekbeforetheygotittotallyback.Moreaccurately,105ofthemlostweightjustaftertheywereborn.

NotFezzik.

Hisfirstafternoonhegainedapound.(Sinceheweighedbutfifteenandsincehismothergavebirthtwoweeksearly,thedoctorsweren’t

undulyconcerned.“It’sbecauseyoucametwoweekstoosoon,”theyexplainedtoFezzik’smother.“Thatexplainsit.”Actually,ofcourse,itdidn’texplainanything,butwheneverdoctorsareconfusedaboutsomething,whichisreallymorefrequentlythananyofuswoulddowelltothinkabout,theyalwayssnatchatsomethinginthevicinityofthecaseandadd,“That

explainsit.”IfFezzik’smotherhadcomelate,theywouldhavesaid,“Well,youcamelate,thatexplainsit.”Or“Well,itwasrainingduringdelivery,thisaddedweightissimplymoisture,thatexplainsit.”)

Ahealthybabydoubleshisbirthweightinaboutsixmonthsandtriplesitinayear.WhenFezzikwasayearold,heweighedeighty-five

pounds.Hewasn’tfat,understand.Helookedlikeaperfectlynormalstrongeighty-five-poundkid.Notallthatnormal,actually.Hewasprettyhairyforaone-year-old.

Bythetimehereachedkindergarten,hewasreadytoshave.Hewasthesizeofanormalmanbythistime,andalltheotherchildrenmadehislifemiserable.Atfirst,

naturally,theywerescaredtodeath(eventhen,Fezziklookedfierce)butoncetheyfoundouthewaschicken,well,theyweren’tabouttoletanopportunitylikethatgetaway.

“Bully,bully,”theytauntedFezzikduringmorningyogurtbreak.

“I’mnot,”Fezzikwouldsayoutloud.(Tohimselfhe

wouldgo“Woolly,woolly.”Hewouldneverdaretoconsiderhimselfapoet,becausehewasn’tanythinglikethat;hejustlovedrhymes.Anythingyousaidoutloud,herhymeditinside.Sometimestherhymesmadesense,sometimestheydidn’t.Fezziknevercaredmuchaboutsense;allthatevermatteredwasthesound.)

“Coward.”

Towered.“I’mnot.”

“Thenfight,”oneofthemwouldsay,andwouldswingallhehadandhitFezzikinthestomach,confidentthatallFezzikwoulddowasgo“oofandstandthere,becauseheneverhitbacknomatterwhatyoudidtohim.

“Oof.”

Anotherswing.Another.A

goodstiffpunchtothekidneysmaybe.Maybeakickintheknee.ItwouldgoonlikethatuntilFezzikwouldburstintotearsandrunaway.

Onedayathome,Fezzik’sfathercalled,“Comehere.”

Fezzik,asalways,obeyed.

“Dryyourtears,”hismothersaid.

Twochildrenhadbeatenhimverybadlyjustbefore.Hedidwhathecouldtostopcrying.

“Fezzik,thiscan’tgoon,”hismothersaid.“Theymuststoppickingonyou.”

Kickingonyou.“Idon’tmindsomuch,”Fezziksaid.

“Wellyoushouldmind,”hisfathersaid.Hewasacarpenter,withbighands.

“Comeonoutside.I’mgoingtoteachyouhowtofight.”

“Please,Idon’twant—”

“Obeyyourfather.”

Theytroopedouttothebackyard.

“Makeafist,”hisfathersaid.

Fezzikdidhisbest.

Hisfatherlookedathismother,thenattheheavens.“Hecan’tevenmakeafist,”hisfathersaid.

“He’strying,he’sonlysix;don’tbesohardonhim.”

Fezzik’sfathercaredforhissongreatlyandhetriedtokeephisvoicesoft,soFezzikwouldn’tburstoutcrying.Butitwasn’teasy.“Honey,”Fezzik’sfathersaid,“look:

whenyoumakeafist,youdon’tputyourthumbinsideyourfingers,youkeepyourthumboutsideyourfingers,becauseifyoukeepyourthumbinsideyourfingersandyouhitsomebody,whatwillhappenisyou’llbreakyourthumb,andthatisn’tgood,becausethewholeobjectwhenyouhitsomebodyistohurttheotherguy,notyourself.”

Blurt.“Idon’twanttohurtanybody,Daddy.”

“Idon’twantyoutohurtanybody,Fezzik.Butifyouknowhowtotakecareofyourself,andtheyknowyouknow,theywon’tbotheryouanymore.”

Father.“Idon’tmindsomuch.”

“Wellwedo,”hismother

said.“Theyshouldn’tpickonyou,Fezzik,justbecauseyouneedashave.”

“Backtothefist,”hisfathersaid.“Havewelearnedhow?”

Fezzikmadeafistagain,thistimewiththethumboutside.

“He’sanaturallearner,”hismothersaid.Shecaredforhimasgreatlyashisfather

did.

“Nowhitme,”Fezzik’sfathersaid.

“No,Idon’twanttodothat.”

“Hityourfather,Fezzik.”

“Maybehedoesn’tknowhowtohit,”Fezzik’sfathersaid.

“Maybenot.”Fezzik’smothershookherheadsadly.

“Watch,honey,”Fezzik’sfathersaid.“See?Simple.Youjustmakeafistlikeyoualreadyknowandthenpullbackyourarmalittleandaimforwhereyouwanttolandandletgo.”

“Showyourfatherwhatanaturallearneryouare,”Fezzik’smothersaid.“Makeapunch.Hithimagoodone.”

Fezzikmadeapunchtoward

hisfather’sarm.

Fezzik’sfatherstaredattheheavensagaininfrustration.

“Hecameclosetoyourarm,”Fezzik’smothersaidquickly,beforeherson’sfacecouldcloud.“Thatwasverygoodforastart,Fezzik;tellhimwhatagoodstarthemade,”shesaidtoherhusband.

“Itwasintherightgeneral

direction,”Fezzik’sfathermanaged.“IfonlyI’dbeenstandingoneyardfartherwest,itwouldhavebeenperfect.”

“I’mverytired,”Fezziksaid.“Whenyoulearnsomuchsofast,yougetsotired.Idoanyway.PleasemayIbeexcused?”

“Notyet,”Fezzik’smothersaid.

“Honey,pleasehitme,reallyhitme,try.You’reasmartboy;hitmeagoodone,”Fezzik’sfatherbegged.

“Tomorrow,Daddy;Ipromise.”Tearsbegantoform.

“Crying’snotgoingtowork,Fezzik,”hisfatherexploded.“It’snotgonnaworkonmeandit’snotgonnaworkonyourmother,you’regonnado

whatIsayandwhatIsayisyou’regonnahitmeandifittakesallnightwe’regonnastandrighthereandifittakesallweekwe’regonnastandrighthereandifit—”

SPLAT!!!!

(Thiswasbeforeemergencywards,andthatwastoobad,atleastforFezzik’sfather,becausetherewasnoplacetotakehimafterFezzik’spunchlanded,excepttohisownbed,whereheremainedwithhiseyesshutforadayandahalf,exceptforwhenthemilkmancametofixhisbrokenjaw—thiswasnotbeforedoctors,butinTurkeytheyhadn’tgottenaroundtoclaimingthebonebusiness

yet;milkmenstillwereinchargeofbones,thelogicbeingthatsincemilkwassogoodforbones,whowouldknowmoreaboutbrokenbonesthanamilkman?)

WhenFezzik’sfatherwasabletoopenhiseyesasmuchashewanted,theyhadafamilytalk,thethreeofthem.

“You’reverystrong,Fezzik,”hisfathersaid.(Actually,that

isnotstrictlytrue.Whathisfathermeantwas,“You’reverystrong,Fezzik.”Whatcameoutwasmorelikethis:“Zzz’zzzzzzzzzzzz,Zzzzzz.”Eversincethemilkmanhadwiredhisjawstogether,allhecouldmanagewastheletterz.Buthehadaveryexpressiveface,andhiswifeunderstoodhimperfectly.)

“Hesays,‘You’revery

strong,Fezzik.’“

“IthoughtIwas,”Fezzikanswered.“LastyearIhitatreeoncewhenIwasverymad.Iknockeditdown.Itwasasmalltree,butstill,Ifiguredthathadtomeansomething.”

“Z’zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz,Zzzzzz.”

“Hesayshe’sgivingupbeing

acarpenter,Fezzik.”

“Oh,no,”Fezziksaid.“You’llbeallwellsoon,Daddy;themilkmanpracticallypromisedme.”

“Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz,Zzzzzz.”

“Hewantstogiveupbeingacarpenter,Fezzik.”

“Butwhatwillhedo?”

Fezzik’smotheransweredthisoneherself;sheandherhusbandhadbeenuphalfthenightagreeingonthedecision.“He’sgoingtobeyourmanager,Fezzik.FightingisthenationalsportofTurkey.We’reallgoingtoberichandfamous.”

“ButMommy,Daddy,Idon’tlikefighting.”

Fezzik’sfatherreachedout

andgentlypattedhisson’sknee.“Zz’zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz,”hesaid.

“It’sgoingtobewonderful,”hismothertranslated.

Fezzikonlyburstintotears.

TheyhadhisfirstprofessionalmatchinthevillageofSandiki,onasteaming-hotSunday.Fezzik’sparentshadaterrible

timegettinghimintothering.Theywereabsolutelyconfidentofvictory,becausetheyhadworkedveryhard.TheyhadtaughtFezzikforthreesolidyearsbeforetheymutuallyagreedthathewasready.Fezzik’sfatherhandledtacticsandringstrategy,whilehismotherwasmoreinchargeofdietandtraining,andtheyhadneverbeenhappier.

Fezzikhadneverbeenmoremiserable.Hewasscaredandfrightenedandterrified,allrolledintoone.Nomatterhowtheyreassuredhim,herefusedtoenterthearena.Becauseheknewsomething:eventhoughoutsidehelookedtwenty,andhismustachewasalreadycomingalongnicely,insidehewasstillthisnine-year-oldwholikedrhymingthings.

“No,”hesaid.“Iwon’t,Iwon’t,andyoucan’tmakeme.”

“Afterallwe’veslavedforthesethreeyears,”hisfathersaid.(Hisjawwasalmostasgoodasnewnow.)

“He’llhurtme!”Fezziksaid.

“Lifeispain,”hismothersaid.“Anybodythatsaysdifferentisselling

something.”

“Please.I’mnotready.Iforgettheholds.I’mnotgracefulandIfalldownalot.It’strue.”

Itwas.Theironlyrealfearwas,weretheyrushinghim?“Whenthegoinggetstough,thetoughgetgoing,”Fezzik’smothersaid.

“Getgoing,Fezzik,”his

fathersaid.

Fezzikstoodhisground.

“Listen,we’renotgoingtothreatenyou,”Fezzik’sparentssaid,moreorlesstogether.“Weallcareforeachothertoomuchtopullanyofthatstuff.Ifyoudon’twanttofight,nobody’sgoingtoforceyou.We’lljustleaveyoualoneforever.”(Fezzik’spictureofhellwasbeing

aloneforever.Hehadtoldthemthatwhenhewasfive.)

TheymarchedintothearenathentofacethechampionofSandiki.

Whohadbeenchampionforelevenyears,sincehewastwenty-four.Hewasverygracefulandwideandstoodsixfeetinheight,onlyhalfafootlessthanFezzik.

Fezzikdidn’tstandachance.

Hewastooclumsy;hekeptfallingdownorgettinghisholdsonbackwardsotheyweren’tholdsatall.ThechampionofSandikitoyedwithhim.Fezzikkeptgettingthrowndownorfallingdownortumblingdownorstumblingdown.Healwaysgotupandtriedagain,butthechampionofSandikiwasmuchtoofastforhim,and

tooclever,andmuch,muchtooexperienced.Thecrowdlaughedandatebaklavaandenjoyedthewholespectacle.

UntilFezzikgothisarmsaroundthechampionofSandiki.

Thecrowdgrewveryquietthen.

Fezzikliftedhimup.

Nonoise.

Fezziksqueezed.

Andsqueezed.

“That’senoughnow,”Fezzik’sfathersaid.

Fezziklaidtheothermandown.“Thankyou,”hesaid.“YouareawonderfulfighterandIwaslucky.”

Theex-championofSandikikindofgrunted.

“Raiseyourhands,you’rethewinner,”hismotherreminded.

Fezzikstoodthereinthemiddleoftheringwithhishandsraised.

“Booooo,”saidthecrowd.

“Animal.”

“Ape!”

“Go-rilla”

“BOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

TheydidnotlingerlonginSandiki.Asamatteroffact,itwasn’tverysafefromthenontolingerlonganywhere.TheyfoughtthechampionofIspir.“BOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”ThechampionofSimal.“BOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

TheyfoughtinBolu.TheyfoughtinZile.

“BOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

“Idon’tcarewhatanybodysays,”Fezzik’smothertoldhimonewinterafternoon.“You’remysonandyou’rewonderful.”ItwasgrayanddarkandtheywerehotfootingitoutofConstantinoplejustasfastastheycouldbecauseFezzikhadjustdemolished

theirchampionbeforemostofthecrowdwasevenseated.

“I’mnotwonderful,”Fezziksaid.“They’rerighttoinsultme.I’mtoobig.WheneverIfight,itlookslikeI’mpickingonsomebody.”

“Maybe,”Fezzik’sfatherbeganalittlehesitantly;“maybe,Fezzik,ifyou’djustpossiblykindofsortofloseafewfights,theymightnot

yellatussomuch.”

Thewifewhirledonthehusband.“Theboyiselevenandalreadyyouwanthimtothrowfights?”

“Nothinglikethat,no,don’tgetallexcited,butmaybeifhe’devenlooklikehewassufferingalittle,they’dletuponus.”

“I’msuffering,”Fezziksaid.

(Hewas,hewas.)

“Letitshowalittlemore.”

“I’lltry,Daddy.”

“That’sagoodboy.”

“Ican’thelpbeingstrong;it’snotmyfault.Idon’tevenexercise.”

“Ithinkit’stimetoheadforGreece,”Fezzik’sfathersaid

then.“We’vebeateneveryoneinTurkeywho’llfightusandathleticsbeganinGreece.NooneappreciatestalentliketheGreeks.”

“Ijusthateitwhentheygo‘BOOOOOOOOOOO!!!’“Fezziksaid.(Hedid.Nowhisprivatepictureofhellwasbeingleftalonewitheverybodygoing“BOOOOOOOOOOO”athimforever.)

“They’llloveyouinGreece,”Fezzik’smothersaid.

TheyfoughtinGreece.

“AARRRGGGGH!!!”(AARRRGGGGH!!!wasGreekforBOOOOOOOOOOO!!!)

Bulgaria.

Yugoslavia.

Czechoslovakia.Romania.

“BOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

TheytriedtheOrient.ThejujitsuchampionofKorea.ThekaratechampionofSiam.ThekungfuchampionofallIndia.

“SSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!”(SeenoteonAARRRGGGGH!!!)

InMongoliahisparentsdied.

“We’vedoneeverythingwecanforyou,Fezzik,goodluck,”theysaid,andtheyweregone.Itwasaterriblething,aplaguethatswepteverythingbeforeit.Fezzikwouldhavediedtoo,onlynaturallyhenevergotsick.Alone,hecontinuedon,acrosstheGobiDesert,hitchingridessometimeswithpassingcaravans.Anditwastherethathelearnedhowtomakethemstop

BOOOOOOOOOOO!!!ing.

Fightgroups.

ItallbeganinacaravanontheGobiwhenthecaravanheadsaid,“I’llbetmycameldriverscantakeyou.”Therewereonlythreeofthem,soFezziksaid,“Fine,”he’dtry,andhedid,andhewon,naturally.

Andeverybodyseemed

happy.

Fezzikwasthrilled.Heneverfoughtjustonepersonagainifitwaspossible.Forawhilehetraveledfromplacetoplacebattlinggangsforlocalcharities,buthisbusinessheadwasnevermuchand,besides,doingthingsalonewasevenlessappealingtohimnowthathewasintohislateteensthanithadbeenbefore.

Hejoinedatravelingcircus.Alltheotherperformersgrumbledathimbecause,theysaid,hewaseatingmorethanhisshareofthefood.Sohestayedprettymuchtohimselfexceptwhenitcametohiswork.

Butthen,onenight,whenFezzikhadjustturnedtwenty,hegottheshockofhislife:theBOOOOOOOOOOO!!!ing

wasbackagain.Hecouldnotbelieveit.Hehadjustsqueezedhalfadozenmenintosubmission,crackedtheheadsofhalfadozenmore.Whatdidtheywantfromhim?

Thetruthwassimplythis:hehadgottentoostrong.Hewouldnevermeasurehimself,buteverybodywhisperedhemustbeoversevenfeettall,andhewouldneverstepona

scale,butpeopleclaimedheweighedfourhundred.Andnotonlythat,hewasquicknow.Alltheyearsofexperiencehadmadehimalmostinhuman.Heknewallthetricks,couldcounteralltheholds.

“Animal.”

“Ape!”

“Go-rilla!”

“BOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

Thatnight,aloneinhistent,Fezzikwept.Hewasafreak.(Speak—hestilllovedrhymes.)Atwo-eyedCyclops.(Eyedrops—likethetearsthatweredroppingnow,droppingfromhishalf-closedeyes.)Bythenextmorning,hehadgottencontrolofhimself:atleasthestillhadhiscircusfriendsaroundhim.

Thatweekthecircusfiredhim.ThecrowdswereBOOOOOOOOOOO!!!ingthemnowtoo,andthefatladythreatenedtowalkoutandthemidgetswerefumingandthatwasitforFezzik.

ThiswasinthemiddleofGreenland,and,aseverybodyknows,GreenlandthenasnowwastheloneliestplaceontheEarth.InGreenland,thereisonepersonforevery

twentysquaremilesofrealestate.Probablythecircuswasprettystupidtakingabookingthere,butthatwasn’tthepoint.

ThepointwasthatFezzikwasalone.

Intheloneliestplaceintheworld.

Justsittingthereonarockwatchingthecircuspull

away.

HewasstillsittingtherethenextdaywhenVizzinitheSicilianfoundhim.Vizziniflatteredhim,promisedtokeeptheBOOOOOOOOOOOSaway.VizzinineededFezzik.ButnothalfasmuchasFezzikneededVizzini.AslongasVizziniwasaround,youcouldn’tbealone.WhateverVizzinisaid,Fezzikdid.And

ifthatmeantcrushingtheheadofthemaninblack...

Sobeit.

Butnotbyambush.Notthecoward’sway.Nothingunsportsmanlike.Hisparentshadalwaystaughthimtogobytherules.Fezzikstoodinshadow,thegreatrocktightinhisgreathand.Hecouldhearthefootstepsoftheman

inblackcomingnearer.Nearer.

Fezzikleapedfromhidingandthrewtherockwithincrediblepowerandperfectaccuracy.Itsmashedintoaboulderafootawayfromthefaceofthemaninblack.“Ididthatonpurpose,”Fezziksaidthen,pickingupanotherrock,holdingitready.“Ididn’thavetomiss.”

“Ibelieveyou,”themaninblacksaid.

Theystoodfacingeachotheronthenarrowmountainpath.

“Nowwhathappens?”askedthemaninblack.

“WefaceeachotherasGodintended,”Fezziksaid.“Notricks,noweapons,skillagainstskillalone.”

“Youmeanyou’llputdownyourrockandI’llputdownmyswordandwe’lltrytokilleachotherlikecivilizedpeople,isthatit?”

“Ifyou’drather,Icankillyounow,”Fezziksaidgently,andheraisedtherocktothrow.“I’mgivingyouachance.”

“SoyouareandIacceptit,”saidthemaninblack,andhebegantotakeoffhissword

andscabbard.“Although,frankly,Ithinktheoddsareslightlyinyourfavorathandfighting.”

“ItellyouwhatItelleverybody,”Fezzikexplained.“Icannothelpbeingthebiggestandstrongest;it’snotmyfault.”

“I’mnotblamingyou,”saidthemaninblack.

“Let’sgettoitthen,”Fezziksaid,andhedroppedhisrockandgotintofightingposition,watchingasthemaninblackslowlymovedtowardhim.Foramoment,Fezzikfeltalmostwistful.Thiswasclearlyagoodfellow,evenifhehadkilledInigo.Hedidn’tcomplainortryandbegorbribe.Hejustacceptedhisfate.Nocomplaining,nothinglikethat.Obviouslyacriminalofcharacter.(Was

heacriminal,though,Fezzikwondered.Surelythemaskwouldindicatethat.Orwasitworsethanthat:washedisfigured?Hisfaceburnedawaybyacidperhaps?Orperhapsbornhideous?)

“Whydoyouwearamaskandhood?”Fezzikasked.

“Ithinkeverybodywillinthenearfuture”wasthemaninblack’sreply.“They’re

terriblycomfortable.”

Theyfacedeachotheronthemountainpath.Therewasamoment’spause.Thentheyengaged.Fezzikletthemaninblackfiddlearoundforabit,testedtheman’sstrength,whichwasconsiderableforsomeonewhowasn’tagiant.Heletthemaninblackfeintanddodgeandtryaholdhere,aholdthere.Then,whenhewasquitesurethe

maninblackwouldnotgotohismakerembarrassed,Fezziklockedhisarmstightaround.

Fezziklifted.

Andsqueezed.

Andsqueezed.

Thenhetooktheremainsofthemaninblack,snappedhimoneway,snappedhim

theother,crackedhimwithonehandintheneck,withtheotheratthespinebase,lockedhislegsup,rolledhislimparmsaroundthem,andtossedtheentirebundleofwhathadoncebeenhumanintoanearbycrevice.

Thatwasthetheory,anyway.

Infact,whathappenedwasthis:

Fezziklifted.

Andsqueezed.

Andthemaninblackslippedfree.

Hmmm,thoughtFezzik,thatcertainlywasasurprise.IthoughtforsureIhadhim.“You’reveryquick,”Fezzikcomplimented.

“Andagoodthingtoo,”said

themaninblack.

Thentheyengagedagain.ThistimeFezzikdidnotgivethemaninblackachancetofiddle.Hejustgrabbedhim,swunghimaroundhisheadonce,twice,smashedhisskullagainstthenearestboulder,poundedhim,pummeledhim,gavehimafinalsqueezeforgoodmeasureandtossedtheremainsofwhatoncehad

beenaliveintoanearbycrevice.

Thosewerehisintentions,anyway.

Inactuality,heneverevengotthroughthegrabbingpartwithmuchsuccess.BecausenosoonerhadFezzik’sgreathandsreachedoutthanthemaninblackdroppedandspunandtwistedandwaslooseandfreeandstillquite

alive.

Idon’tunderstandathingthat’shappening,Fezzikthought.CouldIbelosingmystrength?Couldtherebeamountaindiseasethattakesyourstrength?Therewasadesertdiseasethattookmyparents’strength.Thatmustbeit,Imusthavecaughtaplague,butifthatisit,whyisn’theweak?No,Imuststillbestrong,ithastobe

somethingelse,nowwhatcoulditbe?

Suddenlyheknew.Hehadnotfoughtagainstonemaninsolonghehadallbutforgottenhow.Hehadbeenfightinggroupsandgangsandbunchesforsomanyyears,thattheideaofhavingbutasingleopponentwasslowinmakingitselfknowntohim.Becauseyoufoughtthementirelydifferently.

Whenthereweretwelveagainstyou,youmadecertainmoves,triedcertainholds,actedincertainways.Whentherewasbutone,youhadtocompletelyreadjustyourself.Quicklynow,Fezzikwentbackthroughtime.HowhadhefoughtthechampionofSandiki?Heflashedthroughthatfightinhismind,thenremindedhimselfofalltheothervictoriesagainstotherchampions,themenfrom

IspirandSimalandBoluandZile.HerememberedfleeingConstantinoplebecausehehadbeatentheirchampionsoquickly.Soeasily.Yes,Fezzikthought.Ofcourse.Andsuddenlyhereadjustedhisstyletowhatitoncehadbeen.

Butbythattimethemaninblackhadhimbythethroat!

Themaninblackwasriding

him,andhisarmswerelockedacrossFezzik’swindpipe,oneinfront,onebehind.Fezzikreachedbackbutthemaninblackwashardtograsp.Fezzikcouldnotgethisarmsaroundtohisbackanddislodgetheenemy.Fezzikranataboulderand,atthelastmoment,spunaroundsothatthemaninblackreceivedthemainforceofthecharge.Itwasaterriblejolt;Fezzikknewitwas.

Butthegriponhiswindpipegrewevertighter.

Fezzikchargedtheboulderagain,againspun,andagainheknewthepoweroftheblowthemaninblackhadtaken.Butstillthegripremained.Fezzikclawedatthemaninblack’sarms.Hepoundedhisgiantfistsagainstthem.

Bynowhehadnoair.

Fezzikcontinuedtostruggle.Hecouldfeelahollownessinhislegsnow;hecouldseetheworldbeginningtopale.Buthedidnotgiveup.HewasthemightyFezzik,loverofrhymes,andyoudidnotgiveup,nomatterwhat.Nowthehollownesswasinhisarmsandtheworldwassnowing.

Fezzikwenttohisknees.

Hepoundedstill,butfeebly.

Hefoughtstill,buthisblowswouldnothaveharmedachild.Noair.Therewasnomoreair.Therewasnomoreanything,notforFezzik,notinthisworld.Iambeaten,Iamgoingtodie,hethoughtjustbeforehefellontothemountainpath.

Hewasonlyhalfwrong.

Thereisaninstantbetweenunconsciousnessanddeath,

andasthegiantpitchedontotherockypath,thatinstanthappened,andjustbeforeithappened,themaninblackletgo.Hestaggeredtohisfeetandleanedagainstaboulderuntilhecouldwalk.Fezziklaysprawled,faintlybreathing.Themaninblacklookedaroundforaropetosecurethegiant,gaveupthesearchalmostassoonashe’dbegun.Whatgoodwereropesagainststrengthlikethis.He

wouldsimplysnapthem.Themaninblackmadehiswaybacktowherehe’ddroppedhissword.Heputitbackon.

Twodownand(thehardest)onetogo...

Vizziniwaswaitingforhim.

Indeed,hehadsetoutalittlepicnicspread.Fromtheknapsackthathealways

carried,hehadtakenasmallhandkerchiefandonithehadplacedtwowinegoblets.Inthecenterwasasmallleatherwineholderand,besideit,somecheeseandsomeapples.Thespotcouldnothavebeenlovelier:ahighpointofthemountainpathwithasplendidviewallthewaybacktoFlorinChannel.Buttercuplayhelplessbesidethepicnic,gaggedandtiedandblindfolded.Vizziniheld

hislongknifeagainstherwhitethroat.

“Welcome,”Vizzinicalledwhenthemaninblackwasalmostuponthem.

Themaninblackstoppedandsurveyedthesituation.

“You’vebeatenmyTurk,”Vizzinisaid.

“Itwouldseemso.”

“Andnowitisdowntoyou.Anditisdowntome.”

“Sothatwouldseemtoo,”themaninblacksaid,edgingjustahalf-stepclosertothehunchback’slongknife.

WithasmilethehunchbackpushedtheknifeharderagainstButtercup’sthroat.Itwasabouttobringblood.“Ifyouwishherdead,byallmeanskeepmoving,”Vizzini

said.

Themaninblackfroze.

“Better,”Vizzininodded.

Nosoundnowbeneaththemoonlight.

“Iunderstandcompletelywhatyouaretryingtodo,”theSiciliansaidfinally,“andIwantitquiteclearthatIresentyourbehavior.Youare

tryingtokidnapwhatIhaverightfullystolen,andIthinkitquiteungentlemanly.”

“Letmeexplain—”themaninblackbegan,startingtoedgeforward.

“You’rekillingher!”theSicilianscreamed,shovingharderwiththeknife.AdropofbloodappearednowatButtercup’sthroat,redagainstwhite.

Themaninblackretreated.“Letmeexplain,”hesaidagain,butfromadistance.

Againthehunchbackinterrupted.“ThereisnothingyoucantellmeIdonotalreadyknow.Ihavenothadtheschoolingequaltosome,butforknowledgeoutsideofbooks,thereisnooneintheworldclosetome.PeoplesayIreadminds,butthatisnot,inallhonesty,true.Imerely

predictthetruthusinglogicandwisdom,andIsayyouareakidnapper,admitit.”

“Iwilladmitthat,asaransomitem,shehasvalue;nothingmore.”

“Ihavebeeninstructedtodocertainthingstoher.ItisveryimportantthatIfollowmyinstructions.IfIdothisproperly,Iwillbeindemandforlife.Andmyinstructions

donotincluderansom,theyincludedeath.Soyourexplanationsaremeaningless;wecannotdobusinesstogether.Youwishtokeepheraliveforransom,whereasitisterriblyimportanttomethatshestopbreathingintheverynearfuture.”

“HasitoccurredtoyouthatIhavegonetogreateffortandexpense,aswellaspersonalsacrifice,toreachthispoint,”

themaninblackreplied.“AndthatifIfailnow,Imightgetveryangry.Andifshestopsbreathingintheverynearfuture,itisentirelypossiblethatyouwillcatchthesamefatalillness?”

“Ihavenodoubtyoucouldkillme.AnymanwhocangetbyInigoandFezzikwouldhavenotroubledisposingofme.However,hasitoccurredtoyouthatifyoudidthat,

thenneitherofuswouldgetwhatwewant—youhavinglostyourransomitem,memylife.”

“Weareatanimpassethen,”saidthemaninblack.

“Ifearso,”saidtheSicilian.“Icannotcompetewithyouphysically,andyouarenomatchformybrains.”

“Youarethatsmart?”

“Therearenowordstocontainallmywisdom.Iamsocunning,craftyandclever,sofilledwithdeceit,guileandchicanery,suchaknave,soshrewd,cageyaswellascalculating,asdiabolicalasIamvulpine,astrickyasIamuntrustworthy...well,Itoldyoutherewerenotwordsinventedyettoexplainhowgreatmybrainis,butletmeputitthisway:theworldisseveralmillionyearsoldand

severalbillionpeoplehaveatonetimeoranothertroduponit,butI,VizzinitheSicilian,am,speakingwithpurecandorandmodesty,theslickest,sleekest,sliestandwiliestfellowwhohasyetcomedownthepike.”

“Inthatcase,”saidthemaninblack,“Ichallengeyoutoabattleofwits.”

Vizzinihadtosmile.“Forthe

Princess?”

“Youreadmymind.”

“Itjustseemsthatway,Itoldyou.It’smerelylogicandwisdom.Tothedeath?”

“Correctagain.”

“Iaccept,”criedVizzini.“Beginthebattle!”

“Pourthewine,”saidtheman

inblack.

Vizzinifilledthetwogobletswithdeep-redliquid.

Themaninblackpulledfromhisdarkclothingasmallpacketandhandedittothehunchback.“Openitandinhale,butbecarefulnottotouch.”

Vizzinitookthepacketandfollowedinstructions.“I

smellnothing.”

Themaninblacktookthepacketagain.“Whatyoudonotsmelliscallediocanepowder.Itisodorless,tastelessanddissolvesimmediatelyinanykindofliquid.Italsohappenstobethedeadliestpoisonknowntoman.”

Vizziniwasbeginningtogetexcited.

“Idon’tsupposeyou’dhandmethegoblets,”saidthemaninblack.

Vizzinishookhishead.“Takethemyourself.Mylongknifedoesnotleaveherthroat.”

Themaninblackreacheddownforthegoblets.Hetookthemandturnedaway.

Vizzinicackledaloudinanticipation.

Themaninblackbusiedhimselfalongmoment.Thenheturnedagainwithagobletineachhand.Verycarefully,heputthegobletinhisrighthandinfrontofVizziniandputthegobletinhislefthandacrossthekerchieffromthehunchback.Hesatdowninfrontoftheleft-handgoblet,anddroppedtheemptyiocanepacketbythecheese.

“Yourguess,”hesaid.

“Whereisthepoison?”

“Guess?”Vizzinicried.“Idon’tguess.Ithink.Iponder.Ideduce.ThenIdecide.ButIneverguess.”

“Thebattleofwitshasbegun,”saidthemaninblack.“Itendswhenyoudecideandwedrinkthewineandfindoutwhoisrightandwhoisdead.Webothdrink,needIadd,andswallow,

naturally,atpreciselythesametime.”

“It’sallsosimple,”saidthehunchback.“AllIhavetodoisdeduce,fromwhatIknowofyou,thewayyourmindworks.Areyouthekindofmanwhowouldputthepoisonintohisownglass,orintotheglassofhisenemy?”

“You’restalling,”saidthemaninblack.

“I’mrelishingiswhatI’mdoing,”answeredtheSicilian.“NoonehaschallengedmymindinyearsandIloveit....Bytheway,mayIsmellbothgoblets?”

“Bemyguest.Justbesureyouputthemdownthesamewayyoufoundthem.”

TheSiciliansniffedhisownglass;thenhereachedacrossthekerchiefforthegobletof

themaninblackandsniffedthat.“Asyousaid,odorless.”

“AsIalsosaid,you’restalling.”

TheSiciliansmiledandstaredatthewinegoblets.“Nowagreatfool,”hebegan,“wouldplacethewineinhisowngoblet,becausehewouldknowthatonlyanothergreatfoolwouldreachfirstforwhathewasgiven.Iam

clearlynotagreatfool,soIwillclearlynotreachforyourwine.”

“That’syourfinalchoice?”

“No.BecauseyouknewIwasnotagreatfool,soyouwouldknowthatIwouldneverfallforsuchatrick.Youwouldcountonit.SoIwillclearlynotreachformineeither.”

“Keepgoing,”saidtheman

inblack.

“Iintendto.”TheSicilianreflectedamoment.“Wehavenowdecidedthepoisonedcupismostlikelyinfrontofyou.ButthepoisonispowdermadefromiocaneandiocanecomesonlyfromAustraliaandAustralia,aseveryoneknows,ispeopledwithcriminalsandcriminalsareusedtohavingpeoplenottrustthem,asIdon’ttrust

you,whichmeansIcanclearlynotchoosethewineinfrontofyou.”

Themaninblackwasstartingtogetnervous.

“But,again,youmusthavesuspectedIknewtheoriginsofiocane,soyouwouldhaveknownIknewaboutthecriminalsandcriminalbehavior,andthereforeIcanclearlynotchoosethewinein

frontofme.”

“Trulyyouhaveadizzyingintellect,”whisperedthemaninblack.

“YouhavebeatenmyTurk,whichmeansyouareexceptionallystrong,andexceptionallystrongmenareconvincedthattheyaretoopowerfulevertodie,toopowerfulevenforiocanepoison,soyoucouldhaveput

itinyourcup,trustingonyourstrengthtosaveyou;thusIcanclearlynotchoosethewineinfrontofyou.”

Themaninblackwasverynervousnow.

“ButyoualsobestedmySpaniard,whichmeansyoumusthavestudied,becausehestudiedmanyyearsforhisexcellence,andifyoucanstudy,youareclearlymore

thansimplystrong;youareawareofhowmortalweallare,andyoudonotwishtodie,soyouwouldhavekeptthepoisonasfarfromyourselfaspossible;thereforeIcanclearlynotchoosethewineinfrontofme.”

“You’rejusttryingtomakemegivesomethingawaywithallthischatter,”saidthemaninblackangrily.“Wellitwon’twork.You’lllearn

nothingfromme,thatIpromiseyou.”

“Ihavealreadylearnedeverythingfromyou,”saidtheSicilian.“Iknowwherethepoisonis.”

“Onlyageniuscouldhavededucedasmuch.”

“HowfortunateformethatIhappentobeone,”saidthehunchback,growingmore

andmoreamusednow.

“Youcannotfrightenme,”saidthemaninblack,buttherewasfearallthroughhisvoice.

“Shallwedrinkthen?”

“Pick,choose,quitdraggingitout,youdon’tknow,youcouldn’tknow.”

TheSicilianonlysmiledat

theoutburst.Thenastrangelookcrossedhisfeaturesandhepointedoffbehindthemaninblack.“Whatintheworldcanthatbe?”heasked.

Themaninblackturnedaroundandlooked.“Idon’tseeanything.”

“Oh,well,IcouldhaveswornIsawsomething,nomatter.”TheSicilianbegantolaugh.

“Idon’tunderstandwhat’ssofunny,”saidthemaninblack.

“Tellyouinaminute,”saidthehunchback.“Butfirstlet’sdrink.”

Andhepickeduphisownwinegoblet.

Themaninblackpickeduptheoneinfrontofhim.

Theydrank.

“Youguessedwrong,”saidthemaninblack.

“YouonlythinkIguessedwrong,”saidtheSicilian,hislaughterringinglouder.“That’swhat’ssofunny.Iswitchedglasseswhenyourbackwasturned.”

Therewasnothingforthemaninblacktosay.

“Fool!”criedthehunchback.

“Youfellvictimtooneoftheclassicblunders.Themostfamousis‘NevergetinvolvedinalandwarinAsia,’butonlyslightlylesswellknownisthis:‘NevergoinagainstaSicilianwhendeathisontheline.’“

Hewasquitecheeryuntiltheiocanepowdertookeffect.

Themaninblacksteppedquicklyoverthecorpse,then

roughlyrippedtheblindfoldfromthePrincess’seyes.

“Iheardeverythingthathapp—”Buttercupbegan,andthenshesaid“Oh”becauseshehadneverbeennexttoadeadmanbefore.“Youkilledhim,”shewhisperedfinally.

“Ilethimdielaughing,”saidthemaninblack.“PrayIdoasmuchforyou.”Heliftedher,slashedherbondsaway,

putheronherfeet,startedtopullheralong.

“Please,”Buttercupsaid.“Givemeamomenttogathermyself.”Themaninblackreleasedhisgrip.

Buttercuprubbedherwrists,stopped,massagedherankles.ShetookafinallookattheSicilian.“Tothink,”shemurmured,“allthattimeitwasyourcupthatwas

poisoned.”

“Theywerebothpoisoned,”saidthemaninblack.“I’vespentthepasttwoyearsbuildingupimmunitytoiocanepowder.”

Buttercuplookedupathim.Hewasterrifyingtoher,maskedandhoodedanddangerous;hisvoicewasstrained,rough.“Whoareyou?”sheasked.

“Iamnoonetobetrifledwith,”repliedthemaninblack.“Thatisallyoueverneedtoknow.”Andwiththatheyankedherupright.“You’vehadyourmoment.”Againhepulledherafterhim,andthistimeshecoulddonothingbutfollow.

Theymovedalongthemountainpath.Themoonlightwasverybright,andtherewererocks

everywhere,andtoButtercupitalllookeddeadandyellow,likethemoon.Shehadjustspentseveralhourswiththreemenwhowereopenlyplanningtokillher.Sowhy,shewondered,wasshemorefrightenednowthanthen?Whowasthehorridhoodedfiguretostrikefearinherso?Whatcouldbeworsethandying?“Iwillpayyouagreatdealofmoneytoreleaseme,”shemanagedtosay.

Themaninblackglancedather.“Youarerich,then?”

“Iwillbe,”Buttercupsaid.“Whateveryouwantforransom,IpromiseI’llgetitforyouifyou’llletmego.”

Themaninblackjustlaughed.

“Iwasnotspeakinginjest.”

“Youpromise?You?Ishould

releaseyouonyourpromise?Whatisthatworth?Thevowofawoman?Oh,thatisveryfunny,Highness.Spokeninjestornot.”Theyproceededalongthemountainpathtoanopenspace.Themaninblackstoppedthen.Therewereamillionstarsfightingforprominenceandforamomentheseemedtobeintentonnothinglessthanstudyingthemall,asButtercupwatchedhiseyesflickfrom

constellationtoconstellationbehindhismask.

Then,withnowarning,hespunoffthepath,headingintowildterrain,pullingherbehindhim.

Shestumbled;hepulledhertoherfeet;againshefell;againherightedher.

“Icannotmovethisquickly.”

“Youcan!Andyouwill!Oryouwillsuffergreatly.DoyouthinkIcouldmakeyousuffergreatly?”

Buttercupnodded.

“Thenrun!”criedthemaninblack,andhebrokeintoarunhimself,flyingacrossrocksinthemoonlight,pullingthePrincessbehindhim.

Shedidherbesttokeepup.

Shewasfrightenedastowhathewoulddotoher,soshedarednotfallagain.

Afterfiveminutes,themaninblackstoppeddead.“Catchyourbreath,”hecommanded.

Buttercupnodded,gaspedinair,triedtoquietherheart.Butthentheywereoffagain,withnowarning,dashingacrossthemountainousterrain,heading...

“Where...doyoutakeme?”Buttercupgasped,whenheagaingaveherachancetorest.

“Surelyevensomeoneasarrogantasyoucannotexpectmetogiveananswer.”

“Itdoesnotmatterifyoutellornot.Hewillfindyou.”

“‘He,’Highness?”

“PrinceHumperdinck.Thereisnogreaterhunter.Hecantrackafalcononacloudyday;hecanfindyou.”

“Youhaveconfidencethatyourdearestlovewillsaveyou,doyou?”

“Ineversaidhewasmydearestlove,andyes,hewillsaveme;thatIknow.”

“Youadmityoudonotlove

yourhusband-to-be?Fancy.Anhonestwoman.You’reararespecimen,Highness.”

“ThePrinceandIhaveneverfromthebeginningliedtoeachother.HeknowsIdonotlovehim.”

“Arenotcapableofloveiswhatyoumean.”

“I’mverycapableoflove,”Buttercupsaid.

“Holdyourtongue,Ithink.”

“Ihavelovedmoredeeplythanakillerlikeyoucanpossiblyimagine.”

Heslappedher.

“Thatisthepenaltyforlying,Highness.WhereIcomefrom,whenawomanlies,sheisreprimanded.”

“ButIspokethetruth,Idid,I

—”Buttercupsawhishandriseasecondtime,soshestoppedquickly,felldeadsilent.

Thentheybegantorunagain.

Theydidnotspeakforhours.Theyjustran,andthen,asifhecouldguesswhenshewasspent,hewouldstop,releaseherhand.Shewouldtrytocatchherbreathforthenextdashshewassurewould

come.Withoutasound,hewouldgrabherandofftheywouldgo.

ItwasclosetodawnwhentheyfirstsawtheArmada.

Theywererunningalongtheedgeofatoweringravine.Theyseemedalmosttobeatthetopoftheworld.Whentheystopped,Buttercupsankdowntorest.Themaninblackstoodsilentlyoverher.

“Yourlovecomes,notalone,”hesaidthen.

Buttercupdidnotunderstand.

Themaninblackpointedbackthewaytheyhadcome.

Buttercupstared,andasshedid,thewatersofFlorinChannelseemedasfilledwithlightastheskywasfilledwithstars.

“HemusthaveorderedeveryshipinFlorinafteryou,”themaninblacksaid.“SuchasightIhaveneverseen.”Hestaredatallthelanternsonalltheshipsastheymoved.

“Youcanneverescapehim,”Buttercupsaid.“Ifyoureleaseme,Ipromisethatyouwillcometonoharm.”

“Youaremuchtoogenerous;Icouldneveracceptsuchan

offer.”

“Iofferedyouyourlife,thatwasgenerousenough.”

“Highness!”saidthemaninblack,andhishandsweresuddenlyatherthroat.“Ifthereistalkoflifetobedone,letmedoit.”

“Youwouldnotkillme.Youdidnotstealmefrommurdererstomurderme

yourself.”

“Wiseaswellasloving,”saidthemaninblack.Hejerkedhertoherfeet,andtheyranalongtheedgeofthegreatravine.Itwashundredsoffeetdeep,andfilledwithrocksandtreesandliftingshadows.Abruptly,themaninblackstopped,staredbackattheArmada.“Tobehonest,”hesaid,“Ihadnotexpectedquitesomany.”

“YoucanneverpredictmyPrince;thatiswhyheisthegreatesthunter.”

“Iwonder,”saidthemaninblack,“willhestayinonegrouporwillhedivide,sometosearchthecoastline,sometofollowyourpathonland?Whatdoyouthink?”

“Ionlyknowhewillfindme.Andifyouhavenotgivenmemyfreedomfirst,hewillnot

treatyougently.”

“Surelyhemusthavediscussedthingswithyou?Thethrillofthehunt.Whathashedoneinthepastwithmanyships?”

“Wedonotdiscusshunting,thatIcanassureyou.”

“Nothunting,notlove,whatdoyoutalkabout?”

“Wedonotseeallthatmuchofeachother.”

“Tendercouple.”

Buttercupcouldfeeltheupsetcoming.“Wearealwaysveryhonestwitheachother.Noteveryonecansayasmuch.”

“MayIpleasetellyousomething,Highness?You’reverycold—”

“I’mnot—”

“—verycoldandveryyoung,andifyoulive,Ithinkyou’llturntohoarfrost—”

“Whydoyoupickatme?Ihavecometotermswithmylife,andthatismyaffair—Iamnotcold,Iswear,butIhavedecidedcertainthings,itisbestformetoignoreemotion;Ihavenotbeenhappydealingwithit—”Her

heartwasasecretgardenandthewallswereveryhigh.“Ilovedonce,”Buttercupsaidafteramoment.“Itworkedoutbadly.”

“Anotherrichman?Yes,andheleftyouforaricherwoman.”

“No.Poor.Pooranditkilledhim.”

“Wereyousorry?Didyou

feelpain?Admitthatyoufeltnothing—”

“Donotmockmygrief!Idiedthatday.”

TheArmadabegantofiresignalcannons.Theexplosionsechoedthroughthemountains.Themaninblackstaredastheshipsbegantochangeformation.

Andwhilehewaswatching

theships,Buttercupshovedhimwithallherstrengthremaining.

Foramoment,themaninblackteeteredattheravineedge.Hisarmsspunlikewindmillsfightingforbalance.Theyswungandgrippedtheairandthenhebeganhisslide.

Downwentthemaninblack.

Stumblingandtornandreachingouttostophisdescent,buttheravinewastoosteep,andnothingcouldbedone.

Down,down.

Rollingoverrocks,spinning,outofallcontrol.

Buttercupstaredatwhatshehaddone.

Finallyherestedfarbelowher,silentandwithoutmotion.”YoucandietooforallIcare,”shesaid,andthensheturnedaway.

Wordsfollowedher.Whisperedfromfar,weakandwarmandfamiliar.“As...you...wish...”

Dawninthemountains.Buttercupturnedbacktothesourceofthesoundand

stareddownas,infirstlight,themaninblackstruggledtoremovehismask.

“Oh,mysweetWestley,”Buttercupsaid.“WhathaveIdonetoyounow?”

Fromthebottomoftheravine,therecameonlysilence.

Buttercuphesitatednotamoment.Downshewentafter

him,keepingherfeetasbestshecould,andasshebegan,shethoughtsheheardhimcryingouttoheroverandover,butshecouldnotmakesenseofhiswords,becauseinsidehernowtherewasthethunderofwallscrumbling,andthatwasnoiseenough.

Besides,herbalancequicklywasgoneandtheravinehadher.Shefellfastandshefellhard,butwhatdidthatmatter,

sinceshewouldhavegladlydroppedathousandfeetontoabedofnailsifWestleyhadbeenwaitingatthebottom.

Down,down.

Tossedandspinning,crashing,torn,outofallcontrol,sherolledandtwistedandplunged,cartwheelingtowardwhatwasleftofherbeloved....

FromhispositionatthepointoftheArmada,PrinceHumperdinckstaredupattheCliffsofInsanity.Thiswasjustlikeanyotherhunt.Hemadehimselfthinkawaythequarry.Itdidnotmatterifyouwereafteranantelopeorabride-to-be;theproceduresheld.Yougatheredevidence.Thenyouacted.Youstudied,thenyouperformed.Ifyoustudiedtoolittle,thechanceswerestrongthatyouractions

wouldalsobetoolate.Youhadtotaketime.Andso,frozeninthought,hecontinuedtostareupthesheerfaceoftheCliffs.

Obviously,someonehadrecentlyclimbedthem.Therewerefootscratchingsallthewayupastraightline,whichmeant,mostcertainly,arope,anarm-over-armclimbupathousand-footropewithoccasionalfootkicksfor

balance.Tomakesuchaclimbrequiredbothstrengthandplanning,sothePrincemadethosemarksinhisbrain:myenemyisstrong;myenemyisnotimpulsive.

Nowhiseyesreachedapointperhapsthreehundredfeetfromthetop.Hereitbegantogetinteresting.Nowthefootscratchingsweredeeper,morefrequent,andtheyfollowednodirectascending

line.Eithersomeonelefttheropethreehundredfeetfromthetopintentionally,whichmadenosense,ortheropewascutwhilethatsomeonewasstillthreehundredfeetfromsafety.Forclearly,thislastpartoftheclimbwasmadeuptherockfaceitself.Butwhohadsuchtalent?Andwhyhadhebeencalledtoexerciseitatsuchadeadlytime,sevenhundredfeetabovedisaster?

“ImustexaminethetopsoftheCliffsofInsanity,”thePrincesaid,withoutbotheringtoturn.

Frombehindhim,CountRugenonlysaid,“Done,”andawaitedfurtherinstructions.

“SendhalftheArmadasouthalongthecoastline,theothernorth.TheyshouldmeetbytwilightneartheFireSwamp.Ourshipwillsailtothefirst

landingpossibility,andyouwillfollowmewithyoursoldiers.Readythewhites.”

CountRugensignaledthecannoneer,andthePrince’sinstructionsboomedalongtheCliffs.Withinminutes,theArmadahadbeguntosplit,withonlythePrince’sgiantshipsailingaloneclosesttothecoastline,lookingforalandingpossibility.

“There!”thePrinceordered,sometimelater,andhisshipbeganmaneuveringintothecoveforasafeplacetoanchor.Thattooktime,butnotmuch,becausetheCaptainwasskilledand,morethanthat,thePrincewasquicktolosepatienceandnoonedaredriskthat.

Humperdinckjumpedfromshiptoshore,aplankwaslowered,andthewhiteswere

ledtoground.Ofallhisaccomplishments,nonepleasedthePrinceasdidthesehorses.Somedayhewouldhaveanarmyofthem,butgettingthebloodlinesperfectwasaslowbusiness.Henowhadfourwhitesandtheywereidentical.Snowy,tirelessgiants.Twentyhandshigh.Onflatland,nothingcouldcatchthem,andevenonhillsandrockyterrain,therewasnothingshortof

Arabyclosetotheirequal.ThePrince,whenrushed,rodeallfour,bareback,theonlywayheeverrode,ridingone,leadingthree,changingbeastsinmid-stride,sothatnosingleanimalhadtobearhisbulktothetiringpoint.

Nowhemountedandwasgone.

Ittookhimconsiderablylessthananhourtoreachtheedge

oftheCliffsofInsanity.Hedismounted,wenttohisknees,commencedhisstudyoftheterrain.Therehadbeenaropetiedaroundagiantoak.Thebarkatthebasewasbrokenandscraped,soprobablywhoeverfirstreachedthetopuntiedtheropeandwhoeverwasontheropeatthatmomentwasthreehundredfeetfromthepeakandsomehowsurvivedtheclimb.

Agreatjumbleoffootprintscausedhimtrouble.Itwashardtoascertainwhathadgoneon.Perhapsaconference,becausetwosetsoffootprintsseemedtoleadoffwhileoneremainedpacingthecliffedge.Thenthereweretwoonthecliffedge.Humperdinckexaminedtheprintsuntilhewascertainoftwothings:(1)afencingmatchhadtakenplace,(2)thecombatantswereboth

masters.Thestridelength,thequicknessofthefootfeints,allclearlyrevealedtohisunfailingeye,madehimreassesshissecondconclusion.Theywereatleastmasters.Probablybetter.

Thenheclosedhiseyesandconcentratedonsmellingouttheblood.Surely,inamatchofsuchferocity,bloodmusthavebeenspilled.Nowitwasamatterofgivinghisentire

bodyovertohissenseofsmell.ThePrincehadworkedatthisformanyyears,eversinceawoundedtigresshadsurprisedhimfromatreelimbwhilehewastrackingher.Hehadlethiseyesfollowthebloodhunt

then,andithadalmostkilledhim.Nowhetrustedonlyhisolfactories.Iftherewasbloodwithinahundredyards,hewouldfindit.

Heopenedhiseyes,movedwithouthesitationtowardagroupoflargebouldersuntilhefoundtheblooddrops.Therewerefewofthem,andtheyweredry.Butlessthanthreehoursold.Humperdincksmiled.Whenyouhadthewhitesunderyou,threehourswasafingersnap.

Heretracedtheduelthen,foritconfusedhim.Itseemedtorangefromcliffedgeand

back,thenreturntothecliffedge.Andsometimestheleftfootseemedtobeleading,sometimestheright,whichmadenologicalsenseatall.Clearlyswordsmenwerechanginghands,butwhywouldamasterdothatunlesshisgoodarmwaswoundedtothepointofuselessness,andthatclearlyhadnothappened,becauseawoundofthatdepthwouldhaveleftbloodspoorsandtherewassimply

notenoughbloodintheareatoindicatethat.

Strange,strange.Humperdinckcontinuedhiswanderings.Strangerstill,thebattlecouldnothaveendedindeath.Hekneltbytheoutlineofabody.Clearly,amanhadlainunconscioushere.Butagain,noblood.

“Therewasamightyduel,”PrinceHumperdincksaid,

directinghiscommenttowardCountRugen,whohadfinallycaughtup,togetherwithacontingentofahundredmountedmen-at-arms.“Myguesswouldbe...”AndforamomentthePrincepaused,followingfootsteps.“Wouldbethatwhoeverfellhere,ranoffthere,”andhepointedoneway,“andthatwhoeverwasthevictorranoffalongthemountainpathinalmostpreciselytheopposite

direction.ItisalsomyopinionthatthevictorwasfollowingthepathtakenbythePrincess.”

“Shallwefollowthemboth?”theCountasked.

“Ithinknot,”PrinceHumperdinckreplied.“Whoeverisgoneisofminimalimportance,sincewhoeverhasthePrincessisthewhoeverwe’reafter.And

becausewedon’tknowthenatureofthetrapwemightbebeingledinto,weneedallthearmswehaveinoneband.Clearly,thishadbeenplannedbycountrymenofGuilder,andnothingmusteverbeputpastthem.”

“Youthinkthisisatrap,then?”theCountasked.

“Ialwaysthinkeverythingisatrapuntilproven

otherwise,”thePrinceanswered.“WhichiswhyI’mstillalive.”

Andwiththat,hewasbackaboardawhiteandgalloping.

Whenhereachedthemountainpathwherethehandfighthappened,thePrincedidnotevenbotherdismounting.Everythingthatcouldbeseenwasquitevisiblefromhorseback.

“Someonehasbeatenagiant,”hesaid,whentheCountwascloseenough.“Thegianthasrunaway,doyousee?”

TheCount,ofcourse,sawnothingbutrockandmountainpath.“Iwouldnotthinktodoubtyou.”

“Andlookthere!”criedthePrince,becausenowhesaw,forthefirsttime,intherubble

ofthemountainpath,thefootstepsofawoman.“ThePrincessisalive!”

Andagainthewhiteswerethunderingacrossthemountain.

WhentheCountcaughtupwithhimagain,thePrincewaskneelingoverthestillbodyofahunchback.TheCountdismounted.“Smellthis,”thePrincesaid,andhe

handedupagoblet.

“Nothing,”theCountsaid.“Noodoratall.”

“Iocane,”thePrincereplied.“Iwouldbetmylifeonit.Iknowofnothingelsethatkillssosilently.”Hestoodupthen.“ThePrincesswasstillalive;herfootprintsfollowthepath.”Heshoutedatthehundredmountedmen:“Therewillbegreatsuffering

inGuilderifshedies!”Onfootnow,heranalongthemountainpath,followingthefootstepsthathealonecouldsee.Andwhenthosefootstepsleftthepathforwilderterrain,hefollowedstill.Strungoutbehindhim,theCountandallthesoldiersdidtheirbesttokeepup.Menstumbled,horsesfell,eventheCounttrippedfromtimetotime.PrinceHumperdinckneverevenbrokestride.He

ransteadily,mechanically,hisbarrellegspumpinglikeametronome.

Itwastwohoursafterdawnwhenhereachedthesteepravine.

“Odd,”hesaidtotheCount,whowastiringbadly.

TheCountcontinuedonlytobreathedeeply.

“Twobodiesfelltothebottom,andtheydidnotcomebackup.”

“Thatisodd,”theCountmanaged.

“No,thatisn’twhat’sodd,”thePrincecorrected.“Clearly,thekidnapperdidnotcomebackupbecausetheclimbwastoosteep,andourcannonsmusthavelethimknowthattheywereclosely

pursued.Hisdecision,whichIapplaud,wastomakebettertimerunningalongtheravinefloor.”

TheCountwaitedforthePrincetocontinue.

“It’sjustoddthatamanwhoisamasterfencer,adefeaterofgiants,anexpertintheuseofiocanepowder,wouldnotknowwhatthisravineopensinto.”

“Andwhatisthat?”askedtheCount.

“TheFireSwamp,”saidPrinceHumperdinck.

“Thenwehavehim,”saidtheCount.

“Preciselyso.”Itwasawell-documentedtraitofhistosmileonlyjustbeforethekill;hissmilewasverymuchinevidencenow....

Westley,indeed,hadnottheleastideathathewasracingdeadintotheFireSwamp.Heknewonly,onceButtercupwasdownattheravinebottombesidehim,thattoclimboutwouldtake,asPrinceHumperdinckhadassumed,toomuchtime.Westleynotedonlythattheravinebottomwasflatrockandheadinginthegeneral

directionhewantedtofollow.SoheandButtercupfledalong,bothofthemverymuchawarethatgiganticforceswerefollowingthem,and,undoubtedly,cuttingintotheirlead.

Theravinegrewincreasinglysheerastheywentalong,andWestleysoonrealizedthatwhereasonceheprobablycouldhavehelpedherthroughtheclimb,nowthere

wassimplynowayofdoingso.Hehadmadehischoiceandtherewasnochangingpossible:wherevertheravineledwastheirdestination,andthat,quitesimply,wasthat.

(Atthispointinthestory,mywifewantsitknownthatshefeelsviolentlycheated,notbeingallowedthesceneofreconciliationontheravinefloorbetweenthelovers.Myreplytoher—

Thisisme,andI’mnottryingtobeconfusing,buttheaboveparagraphthatI’mcuttingintonowisverbatimMorgenstern;hewascontinuallyreferringtohiswifeintheunabridgedbook,sayingthatshelovedthenextsectionorshethoughtthat,allinall,thebookwasextraordinarilybrilliant.Mrs.Morgensternwasrarely

anythingbutsupportivetoherhusband,unlikesomewivesIcouldmention(sorryaboutthat,Helen),buthere’sthething:Igotridofalmostalltheintrusionswhenhetolduswhatshethought.Ididn’tthinkthedeviceaddedawholelot,and,besides,hewasalwayscomplimentinghimselfthroughherandtodayweknowthathypingsomethingtoomuchdoesmoreharmthangood,asany

defeatedpoliticalcandidatewilltellyouwhenhepayshistelevisionbills.Thethingofitis,Ileftthisparticularreferenceinbecause,foronce,ItotallyhappentoagreewithMrs.Morgenstern.Ithinkitwasunfairnottoshowthereunion.SoIwroteoneofmyown,whatIfeltButtercupandWestleymighthavesaid,butHiram,myeditor,feltthatmademejustasunfairasMorgenstern

here.Ifyou’regoingtoabridgeabookintheauthor’sownwords,youcan’tgoaroundstickingyourownin.ThatwasHiram’spoint,andwereallywentroundandround,arguingover,Iguess,aperiodofamonth,inperson,throughletters,onthephone.Finallywecompromisedtothisextent:this,whatyou’rereadingintheblackprint,isstrictMorgenstern.Verbatim.Cut,

yes;changed,no.ButIgotHiramtoagreethatHarcourtwouldatleastprintupmyscene—it’sallofthreepages;bigdeal—andifanyofyouwanttoseewhatitcameoutlike,dropanoteorpostcardtoHiramHaydnatHarcourtBraceJovanovich,757ThirdAvenue,NewYorkCity,andjustmentionyou’dlikethereunionscene.Don’tforgettoincludeyourreturnaddress;you‘dbestunnedathow

manypeoplesendinforthingsanddon’tputtheirreturnaddressdown.Harcourtagreedtospringforthepostagecosts,soyourtotalexpenseisthenoteorcardorwhatever.ItwouldreallyupsetmeifIturnedouttobetheonlymodemAmericanwriterwhogavetheimpressionthathewaswithagenerouspublishinghouse(theyallstink—sorryaboutthat,Mr.Jovanovich),

soletmejustaddherethatthereasontheyaresogenerousinpayingthisgiantpostagebillisbecausetheyfullyexpectnobodytowritein.Soplease,ifyouhavetheleastinterestatallorevenifyoudon’t,writeinformyreunionscene.Youdon’thavetoreadit—I’mnotaskingthat—butIwouldlovetocostthosepublishinggeniusesafewdollars,because,let’sfaceit,they’re

notspendingmuchonadvertisingmybooks.Letmejustrepeattheaddressforyou,ZIPcodeandall:

HiramHaydn

HarcourtBraceJovanovich

757ThirdAvenue

NewYork,NewYork10017

andjustaskforyourcopyofthereunionscene.ThishasgoneonlongerthanIplanned,soI’mgoingtorepeattheMorgensternparagraphIinterrupted;it’llreadbetter.Overandout.

(Atthispointinthestory,my

wifewantsitknownthatshefeelsviolentlycheated,notbeingallowedthesceneofreconciliationontheravinefloorbetweenthelovers.Myreplytoherissimplythis:(a)eachofGod’sbeings,fromthelowliestonup,isentitledtoatleastafewmomentsofgenuineprivacy.(b)Whatactuallywasspoken,whilemovingenoughtothoseinvolvedattheactualtime,flattensliketoothpastewhen

transferredtopaperforlaterreading:“mydove,”“myonly,”“bliss,bliss,”etcetera.(c)Nothingofimportanceinanexpositorywaywasrelated,becauseeverytimeButtercupbegan“Tellmeaboutyourself,”Westleyquicklycutheroffwith“Later,beloved;nowisnotthetime.”However,itshouldbenoted,infairnesstoall,that(1)hedidweep;(2)hereyesdidnotremainprecisely

dry;(3)therewasmorethanoneembrace;and(4)bothpartiesadmittedthat,withoutanyqualificationswhatsoever,theyweremorethanalittlegladtoseeeachother.Besides,(5)withinaquarterofanhour,theywerearguing.Itbeganquiteinnocently,thetwoofthemkneeling,facingeachother,Westleyholdingherperfectfaceinhisquickhands.“WhenIleftyou,”he

whispered,“youwerealreadymorebeautifulthananythingIdaredtodream.Inouryearsapart,myimaginingsdidtheirbesttoimproveonyourperfection.Atnight,yourfacewasforeverbehindmyeyes.AndnowIseethatthatvisionwhokeptmecompanyinmylonelinesswasahagcomparedtothebeautynowbeforeme.”

“Enoughaboutmybeauty,”

Buttercupsaid.“EverybodyalwaystalksabouthowbeautifulIam.I’vegotamind,Westley.Talkaboutthat.”

“ThroughouteternityIshalldothatverything,”hetoldher.“Butnowwehaven’ttime.”Hemadeittohisfeet.Theravinefallhadshakenandbatteredhim,butallhisbonessurvivedthetripuncracked.Hehelpedherto

herfeet.

“Westley?”Buttercupsaidthen.“JustbeforeIstarteddownafteryou,whileIwasstillupthere,Icouldhearyousayingsomethingbutthewordswereindistinct.”

“I’veforgottenwhateveritwas.”

“Terribleliar.”

Hesmiledatherandkissedhercheek.“It’snotimportant,believeme;thepasthasawayofbeingpast.”

“Wemustnotbeginwithsecretsfromeachother.”Shemeantit.

Hecouldtellthat.“Trustme,”hetried.

“Ido.SotellmeyourwordsorIshallbegivenreasonnot

to.”

Westleysighed.“WhatIwastryingtogetthroughtoyou,belovedsweet;whatIwas,asamatterofaccuratefact,shoutingwitheverythingIhadleft,was:‘Whateveryoudo,stayupthere!Don’tcomedownhere!Please!’“

“Youdidn’twanttoseeme.”

“OfcourseIwantedtosee

you.Ijustdidn’twanttoseeyoudownhere.”

“Whyevernot?”

“Becausenow,myprecious,we’remoreorlesskindoftrapped.Ican’tclimboutofhereandbringyouwithmewithoutittakingallday.Icangetoutmyself,mostlikely,withoutittakingallday,butwiththeadditionofyourlovelybulk,it’snotaboutto

happen.”

“Nonsense;youclimbedtheCliffsofInsanity,andthisisn’tnearlythatsteep.”

“Andittookalittleoutofmetoo,letmetellyou.Andafterthatlittleeffort,Itangledwithafellawhoknewalittlesomethingaboutfencing.Andafterthat,Ispentafewhappymomentsgrapplingwithagiant.Andafterthat,I

hadtooutfakeaSiciliantodeathwhenanymistakemeantitwasaknifeinthethroatforyou.AndafterthatI’verunmylungsoutacoupleofhours.AndafterthatIwaspushedtwohundredfeetdownarockravine.I’mtired,Buttercup;doyouunderstandtired?I’veputinanight,iswhatI’mtryingtogetthroughtoyou.”

“I’mnotstupid,youknow.”

“Quitbragging.”

“Stopbeingrude.”

“Whenwasthelasttimeyoureadabook?Thetruthnow.Andpicturebooksdon’tcount—Imeansomethingwithprintinit.”

Buttercupwalkedawayfromhim.“There’reotherthingstoreadthanprint,”shesaid,“andthePrincessof

Hammersmithisdispleasedwithyouandisthinkingseriouslyofgoinghome.”Withnomorewords,shewhirledintohisarmsthen,saying,“Oh,Westley,Ididn’tmeanthat,Ididn’t,Ididn’t,notasinglesyllabubofit.”

NowWestleyknewthatshemeanttosay“notasinglesyllableofit,”becauseasyllabubwassomethingyouate,withcreamandwine

mixedintogethertoformthebase.Buthealsoknewanapologywhenheheardone.Soheheldherveryclose,andshuthislovingeyes,andonlywhispered,“Iknewitwasfalse,believeme,everysinglesyllabub.”

Andthatoutoftheway,theystartedrunningasfastastheycouldalongtheflat-rockflooroftheravine.

Westley,naturallyenough,wasconsiderablyaheadofButtercupwiththerealizationthattheywereheadingintotheFireSwamp.Whetheritwasatouchofsulphurridingabreezeoraflickofyellowflamefaraheadinthedaylight,hecouldnotsayforsure.Butonceherealizedwhatwasabouttohappen,hebeganascasuallyaspossibletofindawaytoavoidit.Aquickglanceupthesheer

ravinesidesruledoutanypossibilityofhisgettingButtercuppasttheclimb.Hedroppedtotheground,ashehadbeendoingeveryfewminutes,totestthespeedoftheirtrackers.Now,heguessedthemtobelessthanhalfanhourbehindandgaining.

Heroseandranwithher,faster,neitherofthemspendingbreathin

conversation.Itwasonlyamatteroftimebeforesheunderstoodwhattheywereabouttobeinto,sohedecidedtobeatbackherpanicinanywaypossible.“Ithinkwecanslowdownabitnow,”hetoldher,slowingdownabit.“They’restillwellbehind.”

Buttercuptookadeepbreathofrelief.

Westleymadeashowofcheckingtheirsurroundings.Thenhegaveherhisbestsmile.“Withanyluckatall,”hesaid,“weshouldsoonbesafelyintheFireSwamp.”

Buttercupheardhisspeech,ofcourse.Butshedidnot,shedidnot,takeitwell....

Afewwordsnowontworelatedsubjects:(1)fire

swampsingeneraland(2)theFlorin/GuilderFireSwampinparticular.

(1)Fireswampsare,ofcourse,entirelymisnamed.Astowhythishashappened,nooneknows,thoughprobablythecolorfulqualityofthetwowordstogetherisenough.Simply,thereareswampswhichcontainalargepercentageofsulphurandothergasbubblesthatburst

continuallyintoflame.Theyarecoveredwithlushgianttreesthatshadowtheground,makingtheflameburstsseemparticularlydramatic.Becausetheyaredark,theyarealmostalwaysquitemoist,therebyattractingthestandardinsectandalligatorcommunitythatprefersamoistclimate.Inotherwords,afireswampisjustaswamp,period;therestisembroidery.

(2)TheFlorin/GuilderFireSwampdidanddoeshavesomeparticularoddcharacteristics:(a)theexistenceofSnowSandand(b)thepresenceoftheR.O.U.S.,aboutwhich,abitmorelater.SnowSandisusually,againincorrectly,identifiedwithlightningsand.Nothingcouldbelessaccurate.Lightningsandismoistandbasicallydestroysbydrowning.SnowSandis

aspowderyasanythingshortoftalcum,anddestroysbysuffocation.

Mostparticularlythough,theFlorin/GuilderFireSwampwasusedtofrightenchildren.Therewasnotachildineithercountrythatatonetimeoranotherwasnot,whenmisbehavingverybadly,threatenedwithabandonmentintheFireSwamp.“Dothatonemoretime,you’regoing

totheFireSwamp”isascommonas“Cleanyourplate;peoplearestarvinginChina.”Andso,aschildrengrew,sodidthedangeroftheFireSwampintheirenlargingimaginations.Noone,ofcourse,everactuallywentintotheFireSwamp,although,everyyearorso,adiseasedR.O.U.S.mightwanderouttodie,anditsdiscoverywouldonlyaddtothemythandthehorror.The

largestknownfireswampis,ofcourse,withinaday’sdriveofPerth.Itisimpenetrableandovertwenty-fivemilessquare.TheonebetweenFlorinandGuilderwasbarelyathirdthatsize.Noonehadbeenabletodiscoverifitwasimpenetrableornot.

ButtercupstaredattheFireSwamp.Asachild,shehadoncespentanentire

nightmaredyearconvincedthatshewasgoingtodiethere.Nowshecouldnotmoveanotherstep.Thegianttreesblackenedthegroundaheadofher.Fromeverypartcamethesuddenflames.“Youcannotaskitofme,”shesaid.

“Imust.”

“IoncedreamedIwoulddiehere.”

“SodidI,sodidweall.Wereyoueightthatyear?Iwas.”

“Eight.Six.Ican’tremember.”

Westleytookherhand.

Shecouldnotmove.“Mustwe?”

Westleynodded.

“Why?”

“Nowisnotthetime.”Hepulledhergently.

Shestillcouldnotmove.

Westleytookherinhisarms.“Child;sweetchild.Ihaveaknife.Ihavemysword.Ididnotcomeacrosstheworldtoloseyounow.”

Buttercupwassearchingsomewhereforasufficiencyofcourage.Evidently,she

founditinhiseyes.

Atanyrate,handinhand,theymovedintotheshadowsoftheFireSwamp.

PrinceHumperdinckjuststared.Hesatastrideawhite,studyingthefootstepsdownontheflooroftheravine.Therewassimplynootherconclusion:thekidnapperhaddraggedhisPrincessintoit.

CountRugensatalongside.“Didtheyactuallygoin?”

ThePrincenodded.

Prayingtheanswerwouldbe“no,”theCountasked,“Doyouthinkweshouldfollowthem?”

ThePrinceshookhishead.“They’lleitherliveordieinthere.Iftheydie,Ihavenowishtojointhem.Ifthey

live,I’llgreetthemontheotherside.”

“It’stoofararound,”theCountsaid.

“Notformywhites.”

“We’llfollowasbestwecan,”theCountsaid.HestaredagainattheFireSwamp.“Hemustbeverydesperate,orveryfrightened,orverystupid,orverybrave.”

“VeryallfourIshouldthink,”thePrincereplied....

Westleyledtheway.Buttercupstayedjustbehind,andtheymade,fromtheoutset,verygoodtime.Themainthing,sherealized,wastoforgetyourchildhooddreams,fortheFireSwampwasbad,butitwasn’tthatbad.Theodoroftheescapinggases,whichat

firstseemedalmosttotallypunishing,soondiminishedthroughfamiliarity.Thesuddenburstsofflamewereeasilyavoidedbecause,justbeforetheystruck,therewasadeepkindofpoppingsoundclearlycomingfromthevicinitywheretheflameswouldthenappear.

Westleycarriedhisswordinhisrighthand,hislongknifeinhisleft,waitingforthefirst

R.O.U.S.,butnoneappeared.Hehadcutaverylongpieceofstrongvineandcoileditoveroneshoulderandwasbusyworkingonitastheymoved.“Whatwe’lldoonceI’vegotthisproperlydoneis,”hetoldher,movingsteadilyonbeneaththegianttrees,“we’llattachourselvestoeachother,sothatway,nomatterwhatthedarkness,we’llbeclose.Actually,Ithinkthat’smoreprecaution

thannecessary,because,totellyouthetruth,I’malmostdisappointed;thisplaceisbad,allright,butit’snotthatbad.Don’tyouagree?”

Buttercupwantedto,totally,andshewouldhavetoo;onlybythen,theSnowSandhadher.

Westleyturnedonlyintimetoseeherdisappear.

Buttercuphadsimplyletherattentionwanderforamoment,thegroundseemedsolidenough,andshehadnoideawhatSnowSandlookedlikeanyway;butonceherfrontfootbegantosinkin,shecouldnotpullback,andevenbeforeshecouldscream,shewasgone.Itwaslikefallingthroughacloud.Thesandwasthefinestintheworld,andtherewasnobulktoitwhatsoever,and,atfirst,

nounpleasantness.Shewasjustfalling,gently,throughthissoftpowderymass,fallingfartherandfartherfromanythingresemblinglife,butshecouldnotallowherselftopanic.Westleyhadinstructedheronhowtobehaveifthishappened,andshefollowedhiswordsnow:shespreadherarmsandspreadherfingersandforcedherselfintothepositionresemblingthatofadead-

man’sfloatinswimming,allthisbecauseWestleyhadtoldhertobecausethemoreshecouldspreadherself,theslowershewouldsink.Andtheslowershesank,thequickerhecoulddivedownafterherandcatchher.Buttercup’searswerenowcakedwithSnowSandallthewayin,andhernosewasfilledwithSnowSand,bothnostrils,andsheknewifsheopenedhereyesamilliontiny

finebitsofSnowSandwouldseepbehindhereyelids,andnowshewasbeginningtopanicbadly.Howlonghadshebeenfalling?Hours,itseemed,andshewashavingpaininholdingherbreath.“YoumustholdittillIfindyou,”hehadsaid;“youmustgointoadead-man’sfloatandyoumustcloseyoureyesandholdyourbreathandI’llcomegetyouandwe’llbothhaveawonderfulstoryfor

ourgrandchildren.”Buttercupcontinuedtosink.Theweightofthesandbegantobrutalizehershoulders.Thesmallofherbackbegantoache.Itwasagonykeepingherarmsoutstretchedandherfingersspreadwhenitwasallsouseless.TheSnowSandwasheavierandheavieronhernowasshesankalwaysdown.Andwasitbottomless,astheythoughtwhentheywerechildren?Didyoujust

sinkforeveruntilthesandateawayatyouandthendidyourpoorbonescontinuethetripforeverdown?No,surelytherehadtosomewherebearestingplace.Arestingplace,Buttercupthought.Whatawonderfulthing.I’msotired,sotired,andIwanttorest,and,”Westleycomesaveme!”shescreamed.Orstartedto.Becauseinordertoscreamyouhadtoopenyourmouth,soallshereallygotoutwas

thefirstsoundofthefirstword:“Wuh.”AfterthattheSnowSandwasdownintoherthroatandshewasdone.

Westleyhadmadeaterrificstart.Beforeshehadevenentirelydisappeared,hehaddroppedhisswordandlongknifeandhadgottenthevinecoilfromhisshoulder.Ittookhimnexttonotimetoknotoneendaroundagianttree,and,holdingtighttothefree

end,hesimplydoveheadlongintotheSnowSand,kickinghisfeetashesank,forgreaterspeed.Therewasnoquestioninhismindoffailure.Heknewhewouldfindherandheknewshewouldbeupsetandhystericalandpossiblyevenbraintumbled.Butalive.Andthatwas,intheend,theonlyfactoflastingimport.TheSnowSandhadhisearsandnoseblocked,andhehopedshehadnot

panicked,hadrememberedtospread-eagleherbody,sothathecouldcatchherquicklywithhisheadlongdive.Ifsheremembered,itwouldn’tbethathard—thesame,really,asrescuingadrowningswimmerinmurkywater.Theyfloatedslowlydown,youdovestraightdown,youkicked,youpulledwithyourfreearm,yougainedonthem,yougrabbedthem,youbroughtthemtothesurface,

andtheonlyrealproblemthenwouldbeconvincingyourgrandchildrenthatsuchathinghadactuallyhappenedandwasnotjustanotherfamilyfable.Hewasstillconcerninghismindwiththeinfantsyetunbornwhensomethinghappenedhehadnotcountedon:thevinewasnotlongenough.Hehungsuspendedforamoment,holdingtotheendofitasitstretchedstraightupthrough

theSnowSandtothesecurityofthegianttree.Toreleasethevinewastrulymadness.Therewasnopossibilityofforcingyourbodyallthewaybackuptothesurface.Afewfeetofascensionwaspossibleifyoukickedwildly,butnomore.Soifheletgoofthevineanddidnotfindherwithinafingersnap,itwasallupforbothofthem.Westleyletgoofthevinewithoutaqualm,becausehehadcome

toofartofailnow;failurewasnotevenaproblemtobeconsidered.Downhesankthenandwithinafingersnaphehadhishandaroundherwrist.Westleyscreamedthenhimself,inhorrorandsurprise,andtheSnowSandgougedathisthroat,forwhathehadgrabbedwasaskeletonwrist,boneonly,nofleshleftatall.ThathappenedinSnowSand.Oncetheskeletonwaspicked

clean,itwouldbegin,often,tofloat,likeseaweedinaquiettide,shiftingthiswayandthat,sometimessurfacing,moreoftenjustjourneyingthroughtheSnowSandforeternity.Westleythrewthewristawayandreachedoutblindlywithbothhandsnow,scrabblingwildlytotouchsomepartofher,becausefailurewasnotaproblem;failureisnotaproblem,hetoldhimself;itis

notaproblemtobeconsidered,soforgetfailure;justkeepbusyandfindher,andhefoundher.Herfoot,moreprecisely,andhepulledittohimandthenhisarmwasaroundherperfectwaistandhebegantokick,kickwithanystrengthleft,needingnowtorisethefewyardstotheendofthevine.TheideathatitmightbedifficultfindingasinglevinestrandinasmallseaofSnowSand

neverbotheredhim.Failurewasnotaproblem;hewouldsimplyhavetokickandwhenhehadkickedhardenoughhewouldriseandwhenhehadrisenenoughhewouldreachoutforthevineandwhenhereachedoutitwouldbethereandwhenitwastherehewouldtiehertoitandwithhislastbreathhewouldpullthembothuptolife.

Whichisexactlywhat

happened.

Sheremainedunconsciousforaverylongtime.Westleybusiedhimselfasbesthecould,cleansingtheSnowSandfromearsandnoseandmouthand,mostdelicateofall,frombeneaththelidsofhereyes.Thelengthofherquietnessdisturbedhimvaguely;itwasalmostasifsheknewshehaddiedandwasafraidtofindoutfora

factthatitwastrue.Heheldherinhisarms,rockedherslowly.Eventuallyshewasblinking.

Foratimeshelookedaroundandaround.“Welived,then?”shemanagedfinally.

“We’reahardybreed.”

“Whatawonderfulsurprise.”

“Noneed—”Hewasgoingto

say“Noneedforworry,”butherpanicstrucktooquickly.Itwasanormalenoughreaction,andhedidnottrytoblockitbut,rather,heldherfirmlyandletthehysteriarunitscourse.Sheshudderedforatimeasifshefullyintendedtoflyapart.Butthatwastheworst.Fromthere,itwasbutafewminutestoquietsobbing.ThenshewasButtercupagain.

Westleystood,buckledonhissword,replacedhislongknife.“Come,”hesaid.“Wehavefartogo.”

“Notuntilyoutellme,”shereplied.“Whymustweendurethis?”

“Nowisnotthetime.”Westleyheldouthishand.

“Itisthetime.”Shestayedwhereshewas,onthe

ground.

Westleysighed.Shemeantit.“Allright,”hesaidfinally.“I’llexplain.Butwemustkeepmoving.”

Buttercupwaited.

“WemustgetthroughtheFireSwamp,”Westleybegan,“foronegoodandsimplereason.”Oncehehadstartedtalking,Buttercupstood,

followingclosebehindhimashewenton.“Ihadalwaysintendedgettingtothefarside;Ihadnot,Imustadmit,expectedtogothrough.Around,wasmyintention,buttheravineforcedmetochange.”

“Thegoodandsimplereason,”Buttercupprompted.

“OnthefarendoftheFireSwampisthemouthofGiant

EelBay.AndanchoredfaroutinthedeepestwatersofthatbayisthegreatshipRevenge.TheRevengeisthesolepropertyoftheDreadPirateRoberts.”

“Themanwhokilledyou?”Buttercupsaid.“Thatman?Theonewhobrokemyheart?TheDreadPirateRobertstookyourlife,thatwasthestoryIwastold.”

“Quitecorrect,”Westleysaid.“Andthatshipisourdestination.”

“YouknowtheDreadPirateRoberts?Youarefriendlywithsuchaman?”

“It’salittlemorethanthat,”Westleysaid.“Idon’texpectyoutoquitegraspthisallatonce;justbelieveit’strue.Yousee,IamtheDreadPirateRoberts.”

“Ifailtoseehowthatispossible,sincehehasbeenmaraudingfortwentyyearsandyouonlyleftmethreeyearsago.”

“Imyselfamoftensurprisedatlife’slittlequirks,”Westleyadmitted.

“Didhe,infact,captureyouwhenyouweresailingfortheCarolinas?”

“Hedid.HisshipRevengecapturedtheshipIwason,TheQueen’sPride,andwewerealltobeputtodeath.”

“ButRobertsdidnotkillyou.”

“Clearly.”

“Why?”

“Icannotsayforsure,butI

thinkitisbecauseIaskedhimpleasenotto.The‘please,’Isuspect,arousedhisinterest.Ididn’tbegorofferbribery,astheothersweredoing.Atanyrate,heheldoffwithhisswordlongenoughtoask,‘WhyshouldImakeanexceptionofyou?’andIexplainedmymission,howIhadtogettoAmericatogetmoneytoreunitemewiththemostbeautifulwomaneverrearedbyman,

namelyyou.‘Idoubtthatsheisasbeautifulasyouimagine,’hesaid,andheraisedhisswordagain.‘Hairthecolorofautumn,’Isaid,‘andskinlikewintrycream.’‘Wintrycream,eh?’hesaid.Hewasinterestednow,atleastabit,soIwentondescribingtherestofyou,andattheend,IknewIhadhimconvincedofthetruthofmyaffectionforyou.I’lltellyou.Westley,’hesaidthen,‘I

feelgenuinelysorryaboutthis,butifImakeanexceptioninyourcase,newswillgetoutthattheDreadPirateRobertshasgonesoftandthatwillmarkthebeginningofmydownfall,foroncetheystopfearingyou,piracybecomesnothingbutwork,work,workallthetime,andIamfartoooldforsuchalife.’‘IswearIwillnevertell,notevenmybeloved,’Isaid;‘andifyou

willletmelive,Iwillbeyourpersonalvaletandslaveforfivefullyears,andifIeveroncecomplainorcauseyouanger,youmaychopmyheadoffthenandthereandIwilldiewithpraiseforyourfairnessonmylips.’IknewIhadhimthinking.‘Gobelow,’hesaid.I’llmostlikelykillyoutomorrow.’“Westleystoppedtalkingforamoment,andpretendedtoclearhisthroat,becausehe

hadspottedthefirstR.O.U.S.followingbehindthem.Thereseemednoneedyettoalerther,sohejustcontinuedtoclearhisthroatandhurryalongbetweentheflamebursts.“Whathappenedtomorrow?”Buttercupurged.“Goon.”“Well,youknowwhatanindustriousfellowIam;yourememberhowIlikedtolearnandhowI’dalreadytrainedmyselftoworktwentyhoursaday.I

decidedtolearnwhatIcouldaboutpiracyinthetimeleftallottedme,sinceitwouldatleastkeepmymindoffmycomingslaughter.SoIhelpedthecookandIcleanedtheholdand,ingeneral,didwhateverwasaskedofme,hopingthatmyenergiesmightbefavorablynotedbytheDreadPirateRobertshimself.‘Well,I’vecometokillyou,’hesaidthenextmorning,andIsaid,Thank

youfortheextratime;it’sbeenmostfascinating;I’velearnedsuchagreatdeal,’andhesaid‘Overnight?Whatcouldyoulearninthattime?’andIsaid,Thatnoonehadeverexplainedtoyourcookthedifferencebetweentablesaltandcayennepepper.’‘Thingshavebeenabitfierythistrip,’headmitted.‘Goon,whatelse?’andIexplainedthattherewouldhavebeenmoreroominthe

holdifboxeshadbeenstackeddifferently,andthenhenoticedthatIhadcompletelyreorganizedthingsdownthereand,fortunatelyforme,therewasmoreroom,andfinallyhesaid,‘Verywell,youcanbemyvaletforaday.I’veneverhadavaletbefore;probablyIwon’tlikeit,soI’llkillyouinthemorning.’Everynightforthenextyearhealwayssaidsomethinglikethatto

me:Thankyouforeverything,Westley,goodnightnow,I’llprobablykillyouinthemorning.’

“Bytheendofthatyear,ofcourse,weweremorethanvaletandmaster.Hewasapudgylittleman,notatallfierce,asyouwouldexpecttheDreadPirateRobertstobe,andIliketothinkhewasasfondofmeasIofhim.Bythen,Ihadlearnedreally

quiteagreatdealaboutsailingandhandfightingandfencingandthrowingthelongknifeandhadneverbeeninasexcellentphysicalcondition.Attheendofoneyear,myCaptainsaidtome,‘Enoughofthisvaletbusiness,Westley,fromnowonyouaremysecond-in-command,’andIsaid,‘Thankyou,sir,butIcouldneverbeapirate,’andhesaid,‘Youwanttogetbacktothat

autumn-hairedcreatureofyours,don’tyou?’andIdidn’tevenhavetobotheransweringthat.‘Agoodyearortwoofpiracyandyou’llberichandbackyougo,’andIsaid,‘Yourmenhavebeenwithyouforyearsandtheyaren’trich,’andhesaid,‘That’sbecausetheyarenotthecaptain.Iamgoingtoretiresoon,Westley,andtheRevengewillbeyours.’Imustadmit,beloved,I

weakenedabitthere,butwereachednofinaldecision.Instead,heagreedtoletmeassisthiminthenextfewcapturesandseehowIlikedit.WhichIdid.”TherewasnowanotherR.O.U.S.followingthem.Flankingthemastheymoved.

Buttercupsawthemnow.“Westley—”

“Shhh.It’sallright.I’m

watchingthem.ShallIfinish?Willittakeyourmindoffthem?”

“Youhelpedhimwiththenextfewcaptures,”Buttercupsaid.“Toseeifyoulikedit.”

Westleydodgedasuddenburstofflame,shieldedButtercupfromtheheat.“NotonlydidIlikeit,butitturnedoutIwastalented,aswell.SotalentedthatRobertssaidto

meoneAprilmorning,‘Westley,thenextshipisyours;let’sseehowyoudo.’ThatafternoonwespottedafatSpanishbeauty,loadedforMadrid.Isailedupclose.Theywereinapanic.‘Whoisit?’theirCaptaincried.‘Westley,’Itoldhim.‘Neverheardofyou,’heanswered,andwiththattheyopenedfire.

“Disaster.Theyhadnofear

ofmeatall.IwassoflusteredIdideverythingwrong,andsoontheygotaway.Iwas,doIhavetoadd,disheartened.Robertscalledmetohiscabin.Islunkinlikeawhippedboy.‘Buckup,’hetoldme,andthenheclosedthedoorandwewerequitealone.‘WhatIamabouttotellyouIhaveneversaidbeforeandyoumustguarditclosely.’IofcoursesaidIwould.‘IamnottheDread

PirateRoberts,’hesaid,‘mynameisRyan.IinheritedthisshipfromthepreviousDreadPirateRobertsjustasyouwillinherititfromme.ThemanIinheritedfromwasnottherealDreadPirateRobertseither;hisnamewasCummberbund.TherealoriginalDreadPirateRobertshasbeenretiredfifteenyearsandhasbeenlivinglikeakinginPatagonia.’Iconfessedmyconfusion.‘It’s

reallyverysimple,’Ryanexplained.‘Afterseveralyears,theoriginalRobertswassorichhewantedtoretire.Clooneywashisfriendandfirstmate,sohegavetheshiptoClooney,whohadanidenticalexperiencetoyours:thefirstshipheattemptedtoboardnearlyblewhimoutofthewater.SoRoberts,realizingthenamewasthethingthatinspiredthenecessaryfear,sailed

theRevengetoport,changedcrewsentirely,andClooneytoldeveryonehewastheDreadPirateRoberts,andwhowastoknowhewasnot?WhenClooneyretiredrich,hepassedthenametoCummberbund,Cummberbundtome,andI,FelixRaymondRyan,ofBoodle,outsideLiverpool,nowdubthee,Westley,theDreadPirateRoberts.Allweneedistoland,takeonsome

newyoungpirates.IwillsailalongforafewdaysasRyan,yourfirstmate,andwilltelleveryoneaboutmyyearswithyou,theDreadPirateRoberts.Thenyouwillletmeoffwhentheyareallbelievers,andthewatersoftheworldareyours.’“WestleysmiledatButtercup.“Sonowyouknow.Andyoushouldalsorealizewhyitisfoolishtobeafraid.”

“ButIamafraid.”

“Itwillallbehappyattheend.Consider:alittleoverthreeyearsago,youwereamilkmaidandIwasafarmboy.NowyouarealmostaqueenandIruleuncontestedonthewater.Surely,suchindividualswereneverintendedtodieinaFireSwamp.”

“Howcanyoubesure?”

“Well,becausewe’retogether,handinhand,inlove.”

“Ohyes,”Buttercupsaid.“Ikeepforgettingthat.”

Bothherwordsandhertonewereatriflestandoffish,somethingWestleysurelywouldhavenoticedhadnotaR.O.U.S.attackedhimfromthetreebranch,sinkingitsgiantteethintohis

unprotectedshoulder,forcinghimtoearthinaveryunexpectedspurtofblood.Theothertwothathadbeenfollowinglaunchedtheirattackthentoo,ignoringButtercup,drivingforwardwithalltheirhungrystrengthtoWestley’sbleedingshoulder.

(AnydiscussionoftheR.O.U.S.—RodentsofUnusualSize—mustbegin

withtheSouthAmericanCapybara,whichhasbeenknowntoreachaweightof150pounds.Theyarenothingbutwaterhogs,however,andpresentverylittledanger.ThelargestpureratisprobablytheTazmanian,whichhasactuallybeenweighedatonehundredpounds.Buttheyhavelittleagility,tendingtoslothwhentheyreachfullgrowth,andmostTazmanianherdsmenhavelearnedwith

easetoavoidthem.TheFireSwampR.O.U.S.swereapureratstrain,weighedusuallyeightypounds,andhadthespeedofwolfhounds.Theywerealsocarnivorous,andcapableoffrenzy.)

TheratsstruggledwitheachothertoreachWestley’swound.Theirenormousfrontteethtoreattheunprotectedfleshofhisleftshoulder,andhehadnoideaifButtercup

wasalreadyhalfdevoured;heonlyknewthatifhedidn’tdosomethingdesperaterightthenandrightthereshesoonwouldbe.

Soheintentionallyrolledhisbodyintoaspurtofflame.

Hisclothesbegantoburn—thatheexpected—but,moreimportant,theratsshiedawayfromtheheatandtheflamesforjustaninstant,butthat

wasenoughforhimtoreachandthrowhislongknifeintotheheartofthenearestbeast.

Theothertwoturnedinstantlyontheirownkindandbeganeatingitwhileitwasstillscreaming.

Westleyhadhisswordbythen,andwithtwoquickthrusts,thetrioofratswasdisposedof.”Hurry!”heshoutedtoButtercup,who

stoodfrozenwhereshehadbeenwhenthefirstratlanded.“Bandages,bandages,”Westleycried.“Makemesomebandagesorwedie,”and,withthat,herolledontotheground,toreoffhisburningclothesandsettoworkcakingmudontothedeepwoundinhisshoulder.“They’relikesharks,bloodcreatures;it’sbloodtheythriveon.”Hesmearedmoreandmoremudintohis

wound.“Wemuststopmybleedingandwemustcoverthewoundsotheydonotsmellit.Iftheydon’tsmelltheblood,we’llsurvive.Iftheydo,we’reforit,sohelpme,please.”Buttercuprippedherclothesintopatchesandties,andtheyworkedatthewound,cakingthebloodwithmudfromtheflooroftheFireSwamp,thenbandagingandrebandagingoverit.

“We’llknowsoonenough,”Westleysaid,becausetwomoreratswerewatchingthem.Westleystood,swordinhand.“Iftheycharge,theysmellit,”hewhispered.

Thegiantratsstoodwatching.

“Come,”Westleywhispered.

Twomoregiantratsjoinedthefirstpair.

Withoutwarning,Westley’sswordflashed,andthenearestratwasbleeding.Theotherthreecontentedthemselveswiththatforawhile.

WestleytookButtercup’shandandagaintheystartedtomove.

“Howbadareyou?”shesaid.

“Iaminsomethingclosetoagonybutwecantalkabout

thatlater.Hurrynow.”Theyhurried.TheyhadbeenintheFireSwampforonehour,anditturnedouttobetheeasiestonetheyhadofthesixittooktocrossit.Buttheycrossedit.Aliveandtogether.Handverymuchinhand.

ItwasnearlyduskwhentheyatlastsawthegreatshipRevengefaroutinthedeepestpartofthebay.Westley,stillwithinthe

confinesoftheFireSwamp,sank,beaten,tohisknees.

Forbetweenhimandhisshipweremorethanafewinconveniences.FromthenorthsailedinhalfthegreatArmada.Fromthesouthnow,theotherhalf.Ahundredmountedhorsemen,armoredandarmed.InfrontofthemtheCount.Andoutaloneinfrontofall,thefourwhiteswiththePrinceastridethe

leader.Westleystood.“Wetooktoolongincrossing.Thefaultismine.”

“Iacceptyoursurrender,”thePrincesaid.

WestleyheldButtercup’shand.“Nooneissurrendering,”hesaid.

“You’reactingsillynow,”thePrincereplied.“Icredityouwithbravery.Don’tmake

yourselfafool.”

“Whatissofoolishaboutwinning?”Westleywantedtoknow.“It’smyopinionthatinordertocaptureus,youwillhavetocomeintotheFireSwamp.Wehavespentmanyhoursherenow;weknowwheretheSnowSandwaits.Idoubtthatyouoryourmenwillbeanytooanxioustofollowusinhere.Andbymorningwewillhave

slippedaway.”

“Idoubtthatsomehow,”saidthePrince,andhegesturedouttosea.HalftheArmadahadbeguntogivechasetothegreatshipRevenge.AndtheRevenge,alone,wassailing,asithadtodo,away.“Surrender,”thePrincesaid.

“Itwillnothappen.”

“SURRENDER!”thePrince

shouted.

“DEATHFIRST!”Westleyroared.

“...willyoupromisenottohurthim...?”Buttercupwhispered.

“Whatwasthat?”thePrincesaid.

“Whatwasthat?”Westleysaid.

Buttercuptookastepforwardandsaid,“Ifwesurrender,freelyandwithoutstruggle,iflifereturnstowhatitwasoneduskago,willyouswearnottohurtthisman?”

PrinceHumperdinckraisedhisrighthand:“Iswearonthegraveofmysoon-to-be-deadfatherandthesoulofmyalready-deadmotherthatIshallnothurtthisman,andifIdo,mayIneverhunt

againthoughIliveathousandyears.”

ButtercupturnedtoWestley.“There,”shesaid.“Youcan’taskformorethanthat,andthatisthetruth.”

“Thetruth,”saidWestley,“isthatyouwouldratherlivewithyourPrincethandiewithyourlove.”

“Iwouldratherlivethandie,

Iadmitit.”

“Weweretalkingoflove,madam.”Therewasalongpause.ThenButtercupsaidit:

“Icanlivewithoutlove.”

AndwiththatsheleftWestleyalone.

PrinceHumperdinckwatchedherasshebeganthelongcrosstohim.“Whenweare

outofsight,”hesaidtoCountRugen,“takethatmaninblackandputhiminthefifthleveloftheZooofDeath.”

TheCountnodded.“Foramoment,Ibelievedyouwhenyouswore.”

“Ispoketruth;Ineverlie,”thePrincereplied.“IsaidIwouldnothurthim.ButIneverforamomentsaidhewouldnotsufferpain.You

willdotheactualtormenting;Iwillonlyspectate.”HeopenedhisarmsthenforhisPrincess.

“HebelongstotheshipRevenge,”Buttercupsaid.“Heis—”shebegan,abouttotellWestley’sstory,butthatwasnotforhertorepeat—”asimplesailorandIhaveknownhimsinceIwasachild.Willyouarrangethat?”

“MustIswearagain?”

“Noneed,”Buttercupsaid,becausesheknew,asdideveryone,thatthePrincewasmoreforthrightthananyFlorinese.

“Comealong,myPrincess.”Hetookherhand.

Buttercupwentawaywithhim.

Westleywatcheditall.HestoodsilentlyattheedgeoftheFireSwamp.Itwasdarkernow,buttheflamespurtsbehindhimoutlinedhisface.Hewasglazedwithfatigue.Hehadbeenbitten,cut,gonewithoutrest,hadassaultedtheCliffsofInsanity,hadsavedandtakenlives.Hehadriskedhisworld,andnowitwaswalkingawayfromhim,handinhandwitharuffianprince.

ThenButtercupwasgone,outofsight.

Westleytookabreath.Hewasawareofthescoreofsoldiersstartingtosurroundhim,andprobablyhecouldhavemadeafewofthemperspirefortheirvictory.

Butforwhatpoint?

Westleysagged.

“Come,sir.”CountRugenapproached.“Wemustgetyousafelytoyourship.”

“Wearebothmenofaction,”Westleyreplied.“Liesdonotbecomeus.”

“Wellspoken,”saidtheCount,andwithonesuddenswing,heclubbedWestleyintoinsensitivity.

Westleyfelllikeabeaten

stone,hislastconsciousthoughtbeingoftheCount’srighthand;itwassix-fingered,andWestleycouldneverquiterememberhavingencounteredthatdeformitybefore....

Six - THEFESTIVITIES

ThisisoneofthosechaptersagainwhereProfessorBongiorno,ofColumbia,theFlorineseguru,claimsthatMorgenstern’ssatiricgeniusisatitsfullestflower.(That’sthewaythisguytalks:‘fullestflower,’‘delicious

drolleries’—onandon.)

Thisfestivitieschapterismostlydetaileddescriptionsofguesswhat?Bingo!Thefestivities.It’slikeeighty-ninedaystillthenuptialsandeveryhighmucka-muckinFlorinhastogivea‘do’forthecouple,andwhatMorgensternfillshispageswithishowthevariousrichiesofthetimeentertained.Whatkindof

parties,whatkindoffood,whodidthedecorations,howdidtheseatingarrangementsgetsettled,allthatkindofthing.

Theonlyinterestingpart,butit’snotworthgoingthroughforty-fourpagesfor,isthatPrinceHumperdinckgetsmoreandmoreinterestedandmannerlytowardButtercup,cuttingdownevenalittleonhishuntingactivities.And,

moreimportant,becauseofthefoilingofthekidnappingattempt,threethingshappen:(1)everyoneisprettywellconvincedthattheplotwasengineeredbyGuilder,sorelationsbetweenthecountriesaremorethanalittlestrained;(2)ButtercupisjustadoredbyeverybodybecausetherumorsarealloverthatsheactedverybraveandevencamethroughtheFireSwampaliveand(3)

PrinceHumperdinckis,atlast,inhisownland,ahero.Hewasneverpopular,whatwithhishuntingfetishandleavingthecountrytokindofrotoncehisoldmangotsenile,butthewayhefoiledthekidnappingmadeeverybodyrealizethatthiswassomebravefellaandtheywereluckytohavehimnextinlinetoleadthem.

Anyhow,theseforty-four

pagescoverjustaboutthefirstmonthofpartygiving.Andit’snottilltheendofthat,that,formymoney,thingsgetgoingagain.Buttercupisinbed,pooped,it’slate,theendofanotherlongparty,andasshewaitsforsleep,shewonderswhatseaWestleyisridingon,andthegiantandtheSpaniard,whateverhappenedtothem?Soeventually,inthreequickflashbacks,Morgenstern

returnstowhatIthinkisthestory.

WhenInigoregainedconsciousness,itwasstillnightontheCliffsofInsanity.Farbelow,thewatersofFlorinChannelpounded.Inigostirred,blinked,triedtorubhiseyes,couldn’t.

Hisarmsweretiedtogether

aroundatree.

Inigoblinkedagain,banishingcobwebs.Hehadgoneonhiskneestothemaninblack,readyfordeath.Clearly,thevictorhadothernotions.Inigolookedaroundasbesthecould,andthereitwas,thesix-fingeredsword,glitteringinthemoonlightlikelostmagic.Inigostretchedhisrightlegasfarasitwouldgoandmanaged

totouchthehandle.Thenitwassimplyamatterofinchingtheweaponcloseenoughtobegraspablebyonehand,andthenitwasanevensimplertasktoslashhisbindings.Hewasdizzywhenhestood,andherubbedhisheadbehindhisear,wherethemaninblackhadstruckhim.Alump,sizable,tobesure,butnotamajorproblem.

Themajorproblemwaswhat

todonow?

Vizzinihadstrictinstructionsforoccasionssuchasthis,whenaplanwentwrong:Gobacktothebeginning.BacktothebeginningandwaitforVizzini,thenregroup,replan,startagain.InigohadevenmadealittlerhymeoutofitforFezziksothegiantwouldnothaveproblemsrememberingwhattodointimeoftrouble:”Fool,fool,

backtothebeginningistherule.”

Inigoknewpreciselywherethebeginningwas.TheyhadgottenthejobinFlorinCityitself,theThievesQuarter.Vizzinihadmadethearrangementsalone,ashealwaysdid.Hehadmetwiththeiremployer,hadacceptedthejob,hadplannedit,allintheThievesQuarter.SotheThievesQuarterwasclearly

theplacetogo.

Only,Inigohateditthere.Everybodywassodangerous,big,meanandmuscular,andsowhatifhewasthegreatestfencerintheworld,who’dknowittolookathim?HelookedlikeaskinnySpanishguyitmightbefuntorob.Youcouldn’twalkaroundwithasignsaying,“Becareful,thisisthegreatestfencersincethedeathofthe

WizardofCorsica.Donotburgle.”

Besides,andhereInigofeltdeeppain,hewasn’tthatgreatafencer,notanymore,hecouldn’tbe,hadn’thejustbeenbeaten?Once,true,hehadbeenatitan,butnow,now—

Whathappensherethatyouaren’tgoingtoreadisthis

six-pagesoliloquyfromInigoinwhichMorgenstern,throughInigo,reflectsontheanguishoffleetingglory.ThereasonforthesoliloquyhereisthatMorgenstern’spreviousbookhadgottenbombedbythecriticsandalsohadn’tsoldbeans.(Aside—didyouknowthatRobertBrowning’sfirstbookofpoemsdidn’tsellonecopy?True.Evenhismotherdidn’tbuyitatherlocalbookstore.

Haveyoueverheardanythingmorehumiliating?HowwouldyouliketohavebeenBrowningandit’syourfirstbookandyouhavethesesecrethopesthatnow,now,you’llbesomebody,Established,Important.Andyougiveitaweekbeforeyouaskthepublisherhowthingsaregoing,becauseyoudon’twanttoseempushyoranything.Andthenmaybeyoudropby,anditwas

probablyallveryEnglishandunderstatedinthosedays,andyou’reBrowningandyouchitchataroundabit,beforeyoudropthebiggie:‘Oh,bytheway,anynotionsyetonhowmypoemsmightbedoing?’Andthenhiseditor,whohasbeendreadingthismoment,probablysays,‘Well,youknowhowitiswithpoetrythesedays;nothing’stakingofflikeitusedto,requiresabitoftime

forthewordtogetaround.‘Andthenfinally,somebodyhadtosayit.‘None,Bob.Sorry,Bob,no,wehaven’tyethadoneauthenticatedsale.WethoughtforabitthatHatchardshadapotentialbuyerdownbyPiccadilly,butitdidn’tquiteworkout.Sorry,Bob;ofcoursewe’llkeepyoupostedintheeventofabreak-through.’EndofAside.)

Anyway,InigofinisheshisspeechtotheCliffsandspendsthenextfewhoursfindingafishermanwhosailshimbacktoFlorinCity.

TheThievesQuarterwasworsethanheremembered.Always,before,Fezzikhadbeenwithhim,andtheymaderhymes,andFezzikwasenoughtokeepanythiefaway.

Inigomovedpanickedupthedarkstreets,desperatelyafraid.Whythisgiantfear?Whatwasheafraidof?

Hesatonafilthystoopandpondered.Aroundhimtherewerecriesinthenightand,fromthealehouses,vulgarlaughter.Hewasafraid,herealizedthen,becauseashesatthere,grippingthesix-fingeredswordforconfidence,hewassuddenly

backtowhathehadbeenbeforeVizzinihadfoundhim.

Afailure.

Amanwithoutpoint,withnoattachmenttotomorrow.Inigohadnottouchedbrandyinyears.Nowhefelthisfingersfumblingformoney.Nowheheardhisfootstepsrunningtowardthenearestalehouse.Nowhesawhismoneyonthecounter.Now

hefeltthebrandybottleinhishands.

Backtothestoopheran.Heopenedthebottle.Hesmelledtheroughbrandy.Hetookasip.Hecoughed.Hetookaswallow.Hecoughedagain.Hegulpeditdownandcoughedandgulpedsomemoreandhalfbeganasmile.

Hisfearswerestartingtoleavehim.

Afterall,whyshouldhehaveeverbeenafraid?HewasInigoMontoya(thebottlewashalfgonenow),sonofthegreatDomingoMontoya,sowhatwasthereintheworldworthfearing?(Nowallthebrandywasgone.)HowdarefearapproachawizardsuchasInigoMontoya?Well,neveragain.(Intothesecondbottle.)Neverneverneverneveragain.

Hesataloneandconfidentandstrong.Hislifewasstraightandfine.Hehadmoneyenoughforbrandy,andifyouhadthat,youhadtheworld.

Thestoopwaswretchedandbleak.Inigoslumpedthere,quitecontented,clutchingthebottleinhisonce-tremblinghands.Existencewasreallyverysimplewhenyoudidwhatyouweretold.And

nothingcouldbesimplerorbetterthanwhathehadinstore.

AllhehadtodowaswaitanddrinkuntilVizzinicame....

Fezzikhadnoideahowlonghewasunconscious.Heonlyknew,ashestaggeredtohisfeetonthemountainpath,thathisthroatwasverysorewherethemaninblackhad

strangledhim.

Whattodo?

Theplanshadallgonewrong.Fezzikclosedhiseyes,tryingtothink—therewasaproperplacetogowhenplanswentwrong,buthecouldn’tquiterememberit.Inigohadevenmadearhymeupforhimsohewouldn’tforget,andnow,evenwiththat,hewasso

stupidhehadforgotten.Wasthatit?Wasit“Stupid,stupid,goandwaitforVizziniwithCupid”?Thatrhymed,butwherewastheCupid?“Dummy,dummy,gooutnowandfillyourtummy.”Thatrhymedtoo,butwhatkindofinstructionswerethose?

Whattodo,whattodo?

“Dunce,dunce,useyour

brainsanddoitrightforonce”?Nohelp.Nothingwasanyhelp.Heneverhaddoneanythingright,notinhiswholelife,untilVizzinicame,andwithoutanotherthought,FezzikranoffintothenightaftertheSicilian.

Vizziniwasnappingwhenhegotthere.Hehadbeendrinkingwineanddozedoff.Fezzikdroppedtohiskneesandputhishandsinprayer

position.“VizziniI’msorry,”hebegan.

Vizzininappedon.

Fezzikshookhimgently.

Vizzinididnotwake.

Notsogentlythistime.

Nothing.

“OhIsee,you’redead,”

Fezziksaid.Hestoodup.“He’sdead,Vizziniis,”hesaidsoftly.Andthen,withnotabitofhelpfromhisbrain,agreatscreamofpanicburstfromhisthroatintothenight:”Inigo!”andhewhirledbackdownthemountainpath,becauseifInigowasalive,itwouldbeallright;itwouldn’tbethesame,no,itcouldneverbethatwithoutVizzinitoorderthemandinsultthemasonlyhecould,butatleast

therewouldbetimeforpoetry,andwhenFezzikreachedtheCliffsofInsanityhesaid,“Inigo,Inigo,hereIam”totherocksand“I’mhere,Inigo;it’syourFezzik”tothetreesand“Inigo,INIGO,ANSWERMEPLEASE”alloveruntiltherewasnootherconclusiontodrawbutthatjustastherewasnownoVizzini,sotherewasalsonoInigo,andthatwashard.

Itwas,inpointoffact,toohardforFezzik,sohebegantorun,cryingout,“Bewithyouinaminute,Inigo,”and“Rightbehindyou,Inigo”and“Hey,Inigo,waitup”(waitup,straightupwhichwasthewayheran,andwouldn’ttherebefunwithrhymesonceheandInigoweretogetheragain),butafteranhourorsoofshoutinghisthroatgaveoutbecausehehad,afterall,beenstrangled

almosttodeathintheveryrecentpast.Onheran,onandonandonuntilfinallyhereachedatinyvillageandfound,justoutsidetown,somenicerocksthatformedkindofacave,almostbigenoughforhimtostretchoutin.Hesatwithhisbackagainstarockandhishandsaroundhiskneesandhisthroathurtinguntilthevillageboysfoundhim.Theyheldtheirbreathandcreptasclose

astheydared.Fezzikhopedtheywouldgoaway,sohefroze,pretendingtobeoffwithInigoandInigowouldsay“barrel”andFezzikrightquickwouldcomeback“carol”andmaybetheywouldsingalittlesomethinguntilInigosaid“serenade”andyoucouldn’tstumpFezzikwithonethateasybecauseof“centigrade”andthenInigowouldmakeawordabouttheweatherand

Fezzikwouldrhymeitandthatwashowitwentuntilthevillageboysstoppedbeingafraidofhim.Fezzikcouldtellthatbecausetheywerecreepingveryclosetohimnowandallofasuddenyellingtheirlungsoutandmakingcrazyfaces.Hedidn’treallyblamethem;helookedlikethekindofpersonyoudidthatto,mocked.Hisclothesweretornandhisthroatwasgoneandhiseyes

werewildandheprobablywouldhaveyelledtooifhe’dbeentheirage.

Itwasonlywhentheyfoundhimfunnythathefoundit,thoughhedidnotknowtheword,degrading.Nomoreyelling.Justlaughternow.Laughter,Fezzikthought,andthenhethoughtgiraffeter,becausethat’sallhewastothem,somehugefunnythingthatcouldn’tmakemuch

noise.Laughter,giraffeter,fromnowtohereafter.

Fezzikhuddledupinhiscaveandtriedlookingonthebrightside.Atleasttheyweren’tthrowingthingsathim.

Notyet,anyway.

Westleyawokechainedinagiantcage.Hisshoulderwas

beginningtofesterfromthegnawinganddiggingthattheR.O.U.S.shaddoneintohisflesh.Heignoredhisdiscomfort,momentarily,totryandadjusttohissurroundings.

Hewascertainlyunderground.Itwasnotthelackofwindowsthatmadethatsure;morethedankness.Fromsomewhereabovehimnow,hecouldhearanimal

sounds:anoccasionallionroar,theyelpofthecheetah.

Shortlyafterhisreturntoconsciousness,thealbinoappeared,bloodless,withskinaspaleasdyingbirch.Thecandlelightthatservedtoilluminatethecagemadethealbinoseemtotallylikeacreaturewhohadneverseenthesun.Thealbinoheldatraywhichcarriedmanythings,bandagesandfood,

healingpowdersandbrandy.

“Wherearewe?”fromWestley.

Ashrugfromthealbino.

“Whoareyou?”

Shrug.

Thatwasalmosttheentireextentofthefellow’sconversation.Westleyasked

questionafterquestionwhilethealbinotendedandredressedhiswound,thenfedhimfoodthatwaswarmandsurprisinglygoodandplentiful.

Shrug.

Shrug.

“WhoknowsI’mhere?”

Shrug.

“Lie,buttellmesomething—giveananswer.WhoknowsI’mhere?”

Whispered:“Iknow.Theyknow.”

“They?”

Shrug.

“ThePrinceandtheCount,youmean?”

Nod.

“Andthatisall?”

Nod.

“WhenIwasbroughtinIwashalfconscious.TheCountwasgivingtheorders,butthreesoldierswerecarryingme.Theyknowtoo.”

Shake.Whispered:“Knew.”

“They’redead,that’swhatyou’resaying?”

Shrug.

“AmItodiethen?”

Shrug.

Westleylaybackonthefloorofthegiantundergroundcagewatchingasthealbinosilentlyreloadedthetray,glidedfromsight.Ifthe

soldiersweredead,surelyitwasnotunreasonabletoassumethathewouldeventuallyfollow.Butiftheywantedhiserasure,surelyitwasalsonotunreasonabletoassumethattheyhadnottheleastintentionofdoingitimmediately,elsewhytendhiswounds,whyreturnhisstrengthwithgoodwarmfood?No,hisdeathwouldbeawhileyet.Butinthemeantime,consideringthe

personalitiesofhiscaptors,itwasfinallynotunreasonabletoassumethattheywoulddotheirbesttomakehimsuffer.

Greatly.

Westleyclosedhiseyes.Therewaspaincomingandhehadtobereadyforit.Hehadtopreparehisbrain,hehadtogethismindcontrolledandsafefromtheirefforts,sothattheycouldnotbreakhim.

Hewouldnotletthembreakhim.Hewouldholdtogetheragainstanythingandall.Ifonlytheygavehimsufficienttimetomakeready,heknewhecoulddefeatpain.Itturnedouttheygavehimsufficienttime(itwasmonthsbeforetheMachinewasready).

Buttheybrokehimanyway.

Attheendofthethirtiethday

offestivities,withsixtydaysmoreofpartyingtoenjoy,Buttercupwasgenuinelyconcernedthatshemightlackthestrengthtoendure.Smile,smile,holdhands,bowandthank,overandover.Shewassimplyexhaustedfromonemonth;howwasshetosurvivetwicethat?

Itturnedout,becauseoftheKing’shealth,tobebotheasyandsad.Forwithfifty-five

daystogo,Lotharonbegantoweakenterribly.

PrinceHumperdinckorderednewdoctorsbroughtin.(Therewasstillthelastmiraclemanalive,Max,butsincetheyhadfiredhimlongbefore,bringinghimbackonthecasenowwassimplynotdeemedwise;ifhewasincompetentthen,whenLotharonwasonlydesperatelyill,howcouldhe

suddenlybeacure-allnow,withLotharondying?)Thenewdoctorsallagreedonvarioustried-and-truemedications,andwithinforty-eighthoursoftheircomingonthecase,theKingwasdead.

Theweddingdateofcourse,wasunchanged—itwasn’teverydayacountryhadafivehundredthanniversary—butallthefestivitieswere

eithercurtailedentirelyorvastlycutdown.AndPrinceHumperdinckbecame,forty-fivedaysbeforethewedding,KingofFlorin,andthatchangedeverything,because,before,hehadtakennothingbuthishuntingseriously,andnowhehadtolearn,learneverything,learntorunacountry,andheburiedhimselfinbooksandwisemenandhowdidyoutaxthisandwhenshouldyoutaxthat

andforeignentanglementsandwhocouldbetrustedandhowfarandwithwhat?Andbeforeherlovelyeyes,Humperdinckchangedfromamanoffearandactiontooneoffrenziedwisdom,becausehehadtogetitallstraightnowbeforeanyothercountrydaredinterferewiththefutureofFlorin,sothewedding,whenitactuallytookplace,wasatinythingandbrief,sandwichedin

betweenaministers’meetingandatreasurycrisis,andButtercupspentherfirstafternoonasqueenwanderingaroundthecastlenotknowingwhatintheworldtodowithherself.Itwasn’tuntilKingHumperdinckwalkedoutonthebalconywithhertogreetthegiganticthrongthathadspentthedayinpatientwaitingthatsherealizedithadhappened,shewasthequeen,herlife,forwhateveritwas

worth,belongednowtothepeople.

Theystoodtogetheronthecastlebalcony,acceptingthecheers,thecries,theendlessthunderous“hiphips,”untilButtercupsaid,“Please,mayIwalkoncemoreamongthem?”andtheKingsaidwithanodthatshemightanddownshewentagain,asonthedayoftheweddingannouncement,radiantand

alone,andagainthepeoplesweptaparttoletherpass,weepingandcheeringandbowingand—

—andthenonepersonbooed.

OnthebalconywatchingitallHumperdinckreactedinstantly,gesturingsoldiersintotheareawherethesoundhadcomefrom,dispatchingmoretroopsquicklydowntosurroundtheQueen,andlike

clockworkButtercupwassafe,thebooerapprehendedandledaway.

“Holdamoment,”Buttercupsaid,stillshakenbytheunexpectednessofwhathadhappened.Thesoldierwhoheldthebooerstopped.“Bringhertome,”Buttercupsaid,andinamomentthebooerwasrightthere,eyetoeye.

Itwasanancientwoman,witheredandbent,andButtercupthoughtofallthefacesthathadgonebyinherlifetime,butthisoneshecouldnotremember.“Havewemet?”theQueenasked.

Theoldoneshookherhead.

“Thenwhy?Whyonthisday?WhydoyouinsulttheQueen?”

“Becauseyouarenotworthyofcheers,”theoldwomansaid,andsuddenlyshewasyelling.”Youhadloveinyourhandsandyougaveitupforgold!”Sheturnedtothecrowd.”ItistruewhatItellyou—therewaslovealongsideherintheFireSwampandshedroppeditfromherfingerslikegarbage,andthatiswhatsheis,theQueenofGarbage.”

“IhadgivenmywordtothePrince—”Buttercupbegan,buttheoldwomanwouldnotbequieted.

“AskherhowshegotthroughtheFireSwamp?Askherifshediditalone?ShethrewloveawaytobetheQueenofGrime,theQueenofMuck—Iamoldandlifemeansnothingtome,soIamtheonlypersoninallthiscrowdtodaretotelltruth,andtruth

saysbowtotheQueenofFeculenceifyouwantto,butnotI.CheertheQueenofSlimeandOrdureifyouwantto,butnotI.RaveoverthebeautyoftheQueenofCesspools,butnotI.NotI!”ShewasadvancingonButtercupnow.

“Takeheraway,”Buttercupordered.

Butthesoldierscouldnot

stopher,andtheoldwomankeptcomingon,hervoicegettinglouderandlouderandLouder!andLOUDER!andLOUDERandLOUDER!and—

Buttercupwokeupscreaming.

Shewasinherbed.Alone.Safe.Theweddingwasstillsixtydaysaway.

Buthernightmareshadbegun.

Thenextnightshedreamedofgivingbirthtotheirfirstchildand

Interruption,andhey,howaboutgivingoldMorgensterncreditforamajorleaguefake-outthere.Imean,didn’tyouthinkforawhileatleastthattheyreallyweremarried?

Idid.

It’soneofmybiggestmemoriesofmyfatherreading.Ihadpneumonia,remember,butIwasalittlebetternow,andmadlycaughtupinthebook,andonethingyouknowwhenyou’retenisthat,nomatterwhat,there’sgonnabeahappyending.Theycansweatalltheywanttoscareyou,theauthors,butbackofitallyouknow,you

justhavenodoubt,thatinthelongrunjusticeisgoingtowinout.AndWestleyandButtercup—well,theyhadtheirtroubles,sure,buttheyweregoingtogetmarriedandlivehappilyeverafter.IwouldhavebetthefamilyfortuneifI’dfoundasuckerbigenoughtotakemeon.

Well,whenmyfathergotthroughwiththatsentencewheretheweddingwas

sandwichedbetweentheministers’meetingandthetreasurywhatever,Isaid,‘Youreadthatwrong.’

Myfather’sthislittlebaldbarber—rememberthattoo?Andkindofilliterate.Well,youjustdon’tchallengeaguywhohastroublereadingandsayhe’sreadsomethingincorrectly,becausethat’sreallythreatening.‘I’mdoingthereading,’hesaid.

Iknowthatbutyougotitwrong.Shedidn’tmarrythatrottenHumperdinck.ShemarriesWestley.’

‘Itsaysrighthere,’myfatherbegan,alittlehuffy,andhestartsgoingoveritagain.

“Youmusthaveskippedapagethen.Something.Getitright,huh?’

Bynowhewasmorethana

tinybitupset.Iskippednothing.Ireadthewords.Thewordsarethere,Ireadthem,goodnight,’andoffhewent.

‘Heyplease,no,’Icalledafterhim,buthe’sstubborn,and,nextthing,mymotherwasinsaying,‘Yourfathersayshisthroatistoosore;Itoldhimnottoreadsomuch,’andshetuckedandfluffedmeandnomatterhowIbattled,itwasover.Nomorestorytill

thenextday.

IspentthatwholenightthinkingButtercupmarriedHumperdinck.Itjustrockedme.HowcanIexplainit,buttheworlddidn’tworkthatway.Goodgotattractedtogood,evilyouflusheddowntheJohnandthatwasthat.Buttheirmarriage—Icouldn’tmakeitjibe.God,didIworkatit.FirstIthoughtthatprobably

ButtercuphadthisfantasticeffectonHumperdinckandturnedhimintoakindofWestley,ormaybeWestleyandHumperdinckturnedouttobelong-lostbrothersandHumperdinckwassohappytogethisbrotherbackhesaid,“Look,Westley,Ididn’trealizewhoyouwerewhenImarriedhersowhatI’lldoisI’lldivorceherandyoumarryherandthatwaywe’llallbehappy.’TothisdayIdon’t

thinkIwasevermorecreative.

Butitdidn’ttake.SomethingwaswrongandIcouldn’tloseit.Suddenlytherewasthisdiscontentgnawingawayuntilithadaplacebigenoughtosettleinandthenitcurledupandstayedthereandit’sstillinsidemelurkingasIwritethisnow.

Thenextnight,whenmy

fatherwentbacktoreadingandthemarriageturnedouttohavebeenButtercup’sdream,IscreamedIknewit,allalongIknewit,’andmyfathersaid,‘Soyou’rehappynow,it’sallrightnow,wecanpleasecontinue?’andIsaid‘Go’andhedid.

ButIwasn’thappy.Ohmyearswerehappy,Iguess,mystorysensewashappy,myhearttoo,butinmy,I

supposeyouhavetocallit‘soul,’therewasthatdamndiscontent,shakingitsdarkhead.

AllthiswasneverexplainedtometillIwasinmyteensandtherewasthisgreatwomanwholivedinmyhometown,EdithNeisser,deadnow,andshewroteterrificbooksabouthowwescrewupourchildren—BrothersandSisterswasone

ofherbooks,TheEldestChildwasanother.PublishedbyHarper.Edithdoesn’tneedtheplug,seeing,likeIsaid,asshe’snolongerwithus,butifthereareanyamongstyouwhoareworriedthatmaybeyou’renotbeingperfectparents,pickuponeofEdith’sbookswhilethere’sstilltime.Iknewher‘causeherkidEdgothishaircutsfrommypop,andshewasthiswriterandbymyteensI

knew,secretly,thatwasthelifeformetoo,exceptIcouldn’ttellanybody.Itwastooembarrassing—barber’ssons,iftheyhustled,maybegottobeIBMsalesmen,butwriters?Noway.Don’taskmehow,buteventuallyEdithdiscoveredmyshhhhhhambitionandfromthenon,sometimes,wewouldtalk.AndIrememberoncewewerehavingicedteaontheNeisserporchandtalkingand

justoutsidetheporchwastheirbadmintoncourtandIwaswatchingsomekidsplaybadmintonandEdhadjustshellackedme,andasIleftthecourtfortheporch,hesaid,‘Don’tworry,it’llallworkout,you’llgetmenexttime’andInodded,andthenEdsaid,‘Andifyoudon’t,you’llbeatmeatsomethingelse.’

Iwenttotheporchand

sippedicedteaandEdithwasreadingthisbookandshedidn’tputitdownwhenshesaid,‘That’snotnecessarilytrue,youknow,’

Isaid,‘Howdoyoumean?’

Andthat’swhensheputherbookdown.Andlookedatme.Andsaidit:‘Lifeisn’tfair,Bill.Wetellourchildrenthatitis,butit’saterriblethingtodo.It’snotonlyalie,

it’sacruellie.Lifeisnotfair,anditneverhasbeen,andit’snevergoingtobe.’

WouldyoubelievethatformerightthenitwaslikeoneofthosecomicbookswherethelightbulbgoesonoverMandraketheMagician’shead?’Itisn’t!’Isaid,soloudIrealtystartledher.‘You’reright.It’snotfair.’IwassohappyifI’dknownhowtodance,I’dhavestarted

dancing.‘Isn’tthatgreat,isn’titjustterrific?’IthinkalongabouthereEdithmusthavethoughtIwaswellonmywaytowardbeingbonkers.

Butitmeantsomuchtometohaveitsaidandoutandfreeandflying—thatwasthediscontentIenduredthenightmyfatherstoppedreading,Irealizedrightthen.ThatwasthereconciliationIwastrying

tomakeandcouldn’t.

Andthat’swhatIthinkthisbook’sabout.AllthoseColumbiaexpertscanspielalltheywantaboutthedelicioussatire;they’recrazy.Thisbooksays‘lifeisn’tfair’andI’mtellingyou,oneandall,youbetterbelieveit.Igotafatspoiledson—he’snotgonnanabMissRheingold.Andhe’salwaysgonnabefat,evenifhegetsskinny

he’llstillbefatandhe’llstillbespoiledandlifewillneverbeenoughtomakehimhappy,andthat’smyfaultmaybe—makeitallmyfault,ifyouwant—thepointis,we’renotcreatedequal,fortherichtheysing,lifeisn’tfair.Igotacoldwife;she’sbrilliant,she’sstimulating,she’sterrific;there’snolove;that’sokaytoo,justsolongaswedon’tkeepexpectingeverythingtosomehoweven

outforusbeforewedie.

Look.(Grownupsskipthisparagraph.)I’mnotabouttotellyouthisbookhasatragicending,Ialreadysaidintheveryfirstlinehowitwasmyfavoriteinalltheworld.Butthere’salotofbadstuffcomingup,tortureyou’vealreadybeenpreparedfor,butthere’sworse.There’sdeathcomingup,andyoubetterunderstandthis:someofthe

wrongpeopledie.Bereadyforit.Thisisn’tCuriousGeorgeUsesthePotty.Nobodywarnedmeanditwasmyownfault(you’llseewhatImeaninalittle)andthatwasmymistake,soI’mnotlettingithappentoyou.Thewrongpeopledie,someofthem,andthereasonisthis:lifeisnotfair.Forgetallthegarbageyourparentsputout.RememberMorgenstern.You’llbealothappier.

Okay.Enough.Backtothetext.Nightmaretime.

Thenextnightshedreamedofgivingbirthtotheirfirstchildanditwasagirl,abeautifullittlegirl,andButtercupsaid,“I’msorryitwasn’taboy;Iknowyouneedanheir,”andHumperdincksaid,“Belovedsweet,don’tconcernyourselfwiththat;justlookatthe

gloriouschildGodhasgivenus”andthenheleftandButtercupheldthechildtoherperfectbreastandthechildsaid,“Yourmilkissour”andButtercupsaid,“Oh,I’msorry,”andsheshiftedtheinfanttotheotherbreastandthechildsaid,“No,thisissourtoo,”andButtercupsaid,“Idon’tknowwhattodo”andthebabysaid,“Youalwaysknowwhattodo,youalwaysknow

exactlywhattodo,youalwaysdoexactlywhat’srightforyou,andtherestoftheworldcangohang,”andButtercupsaid,“YoumeanWestley”andthebabysaid,“OfcourseImeanWestley,”andButtercupexplainedpatiently,“Ithoughthewasdead,yousee;I’dgivenmywordtoyourfather”andthebabysaid,“I’mdyingnow;there’snoloveinyourmilk,yourmilkhaskilledme”and

thenthechildstiffenedandcrackedandturnedinButtercup’shandstonothingbutdrydustandButtercupscreamedandscreamed;evenwhenshewasawakeagain,withfifty-ninedaystogotillhermarriage,shewasstillscreaming.

Thethirdnightmarecamequicklythefollowingevening,andagainitwasababy—thistimeason,a

marvelousstrongboy—andHumperdincksaid,“Beloved,it’saboy”andButtercupsaid,“Ididn’tfailyou,thankheavens”andthenhewasgoneandButtercupcalledout,“MayIseemysonnow”andallthedoctorsscurriedaroundoutsideherroyalroom,buttheboywasnotbroughtin.“Whatseemstobethetrouble?”Buttercupcalledoutandthechiefdoctorsaid,“Idon’tquite

understand,buthedoesn’twanttoseeyou”andButtercupsaid,“TellhimIamhismotherandIamtheQueenandIcommandhispresence”andthenhewasthere,justashandsomeababyboyasanyonecouldwishfor.“Closeit,”Buttercupsaid,andthedoctorsclosedthedoor.Thebabystoodinthecornerasfarfromherbedashecould.“Comehere,darling,”

Buttercupsaid.“Why?Areyougoingtokillmetoo?”“I’myourmotherandIloveyou,nowcomehere;I’veneverkilledanybody.”“YoukilledWestley,didyouseehisfaceintheFireSwamp?Whenyouwalkedawayandlefthim?That’swhatIcallkilling.”“Whenyou’reolder,you’llunderstandthings,nowI’mnotgoingtotellyouagain—comehere.”“Murderer,”thebaby

shouted.”Murderer!”butbythenshewasoutofbedandshehadhiminherarmsandwassaying,“Stopthat,stopitthisinstant;Iloveyou,”andhesaid,“Yourloveispoison;itkills,”andhediedinherarmsandshestartedtocry.Evenwhenshewasawakeagain,withfifty-eightdaystogotillhermarriage,shewasstillcrying.

Thenextnightshesimply

refusedtogotosleep.Instead,shewalkedandreadanddidneedleworkanddrankcupaftercupofsteamingteafromtheIndies.Shefeltsickwithweariness,ofcourse,butsuchwasherfearofwhatshemightdreamthatshepreferredanywakingdiscomforttowhateversleepmighthavetooffer,andatdawnhermotherwaspregnant—no,morethanpregnant;hermotherwas

havingababy—andasButtercupstoodthereinthecorneroftheroom,shewatchedherselfbeingbornandherfathergaspedatherbeautyandsodidhermotherandthemidwifewasthefirsttoshowconcern.Themidwifewasasweetwoman,knownthroughoutthevillageforherloveofbabies,andshesaid,“Look—trouble—”andthefathersaid,“Whattrouble?Wherebeforedid

youeverseesuchbeauty?”andthemidwifesaid,“Don’tyouunderstandwhyshewasgivensuchbeauty?It’sbecauseshehasnoheart,here,listen;thebabyisalivebutthereisnobeat”andsheheldButtercup’schestagainstthefather’searandthefathercouldonlynodandsay,“Wemustfindamiraclemantoplaceaheartinside”butthemidwifesaid,“Thatwouldbewrong,Ithink;I’veheard

beforeofcreatureslikethis,theheartlessones,andastheygrowbiggertheygetmoreandmorebeautifulandbehindthemisnothingbutbrokenbodiesandshatteredsouls,andthesewithoutheartsareanguishbringers,andmyadvicewouldbe,sinceyou’rebothstillyoung,tohaveanotherchild,adifferentchild,andberidofthisonenow,but,ofcourse,thefinaldecisionisupto

you”andthefathersaidtothemother,“Well?”andthemothersaid,“Sincethemidwifeisthekindestpersoninthevillage,shemustknowamonsterwhensheseesone;let’sgettoit,”soButtercup’sfatherandButtercup’smotherputtheirhandstothebaby’sthroatandthebabybegantogasp.EvenwhenButtercupwasawakeagain,atdawn,withfifty-sevendaystogotillhermarriage,shecouldnot

stopgasping.

Fromthenon,thenightmaresbecamesimplytoofrightening.

Whentherewerefiftydaystogo,Buttercupknocked,onenight,onthedoortoPrinceHumperdinck’schambers.Sheenteredwhenhebidherto.“Iseetrouble,”hesaid.“Youlookveryill.”Andsoshedid.Beautiful,ofcourse.

Stillthat.Butinnowaywell.

Buttercupdidnotseequitehowtobegin.

Heusheredherintoachair.Hegotherwater.Shesippedatit,staringdeadahead.Heputtheglasstooneside.

“Atyourconvenience,Princess,”hesaid.

“Itcomestothis,”Buttercup

began.“IntheFireSwamp,Imadetheworstmistakeinalltheworld.IloveWestley.Ialwayshave.ItseemsIalwayswill.Ididnotknowthiswhenyoucametome.PleasebelievewhatIamabouttosay:whenyousaidthatImustmarryyouorfacedeath,Ianswered,‘Killme.’Imeantthat.Imeanthisnowtoo:ifyousayImustmarryyouinfiftydays,Iwillbedeadbymorning.”

ThePrincewasliterallystunned.

Afteralongmoment,hekneltbyButtercup’schairand,inhisgentlestvoice,startedtospeak:“Iadmitthatwhenwefirstbecameengaged,therewastobenoloveinvolved.Thatwasasmuchmychoiceasyours,thoughthenotionmayhavecomefromyou.Butsurelyyoumusthavenoticed,inthislastmonthof

partiesandfestivities,acertainwarmingofmyattitude.”

“Ihave.Youhavebeenbothsweetandnoble.”

“Thankyou.Havingsaidthat,Ihopeyouappreciatehowdifficultthisnextsentenceisformetosay:Iwoulddiemyselfratherthancauseyouunhappinessbystandinginthewayofyourmarryingthe

manyoulove.”

Buttercupwantedalmosttoweepwithgratitude.Shesaid:“Iwillblessyouallmydaysforyourkindness.”Thenshestood.“Soit’ssettled.Ourweddingisoff.”

Hestoodtoo.“Exceptforperhapsonething.”

“Thatbeing?”

“Haveyouconsideredthepossibilitythathemightnotnowwantanylongertomarryyou?”

Untilthatmoment,shehadnot.

“Youwere,Ihatetoremindyou,notaltogethergentlewithhisemotionsintheFireSwamp.Forgivemeforsayingthat,beloved,butyoudidleavehiminthelurch,in

amannerofspeaking.”

Buttercupsatdownhard,herturnnowtobestunned.

Humperdinckkneltagainbesideher.“ThisWestleyofyours,thissailorboy;hehaspride?”

Buttercupmanagedtowhisper,“Morethananymanalive,Isometimesthink.”

“Wellconsider,then,dearest.Hereheis,offsailingsomewherewiththeDreadPirateRoberts;hehashadamonthtosurvivetheemotionalscarsyoudealthim.Whatifhewantsnowtoremainsingle?Or,worse,whatifhehasfoundanother?”

Buttercupwasnowevenbeyondwhispering.

“Ithink,sweetestchild,thatweshouldstrikeabargain,youandI:ifWestleywantstomarryyoustill,blessyouboth.If,forreasonsunpleasanttomention,hispridewillnotlethim,thenyouwillmarryme,asplanned,andbetheQueenofFlorin,”

“Hecouldn’tbemarried.I’msure.NotmyWestley.”ShelookedatthePrince.“But

howcanIfindout?”

“Whataboutthis:youwritehimaletter,tellinghimeverything.We’llmakefourcopies.I’lltakemyfourfastestshipsandorderthemoffinalldirections.TheDreadPirateRobertsisnotoftenmorethanamonth’ssailfromFlorin.Whicheverofmyshipsfindshimwillrunthewhiteflagoftruce,deliveryourletter,and

Westleycandecide.If‘no,’hecanspeakthatmessagetomycaptain.If‘yes,’mycaptainwillsailhimheretoyou,andIwillhavetocontentmyselfsomehowwithalesserbride.”

“Ithink—I’mnotsure—butIdefinitelythink,thatthisisthemostgenerousdecisionIhaveyetheard.”

“Domethisfavorthenin

return:untilweknowWestley’sintentions,onewayoranother,letuscontinueaswehave,sothefestivitieswillnotbehalted.AndifIseemtoofondofyou,rememberthatIcannothelpmyself.”

“Agreed,”Buttercupsaid,goingtothedoor,butnotbeforeshekissedhischeek.

Hefollowedher.“Offwith

younowandwriteyourletter,”andhereturnedthekiss,smilingwithhiseyesatheruntilthecorridorcurvedherfromhissight.Therewasnodoubtwhatsoeverinhismindthathewasgoingtoseemtoofondofherinthedaysahead.Becausewhenshediedofmurderontheirweddingnight,itwascrucialthatallFlorinrealizethedepthofhislove,theepochalsizeofhisloss,sincethenno

onewoulddarehesitatetofollowhimintherevengewarhewastolaunchagainstGuilder.

Atfirst,whenhehiredtheSicilian,hewasconvinceditwasbestthatsomeoneelsedoherin,allthewhilemakingitappeartheworkofsoldiersfromGuilder.Andwhenthemaninblackhadsomehowmaterializedtospoilhisplans,thePrincecameclose

togoinginsanewithrage.Butnowhisbasicallyoptimisticnaturehadreasserteditself:everythingalwaysworkedoutforthebest.ThepeoplewereinfatuatedwithButtercupnowastheyhadneverbeenbeforeherkidnapping.Andwhenheannouncedfromhiscastlebalconythatshehadbeenmurdered—healreadysawthesceneinhismind:hewouldarrivejusttoolatetosaveherfromstranglingbut

soonenoughtoseetheGuilderiansoldiersleapingfromthewindowofhisbedroomtothesoftgroundbelow—whenhemadethatspeechtothemassesonthefivehundredthanniversaryofhiscountry,well,therewouldn’tbeadryeyeintheSquare.Andalthoughhewasjusttheleastbitperturbed,sincehehadneveractuallykilledawomanbeforewithhisbarehands,therewasa

firsttimeforeverything.Besides,ifyouwantedsomethingdoneright,youdidityourself.

Thatnight,theybegantotortureWestley.CountRugendidtheactualpaininducing;thePrincesimplysatby,askingquestionsoutloud,inwardlyadmiringtheCount’sskill.

TheCountreallycaredaboutpain.Thewhysbehindthescreamsinterestedhimfullyasmuchastheanguishitself.AndwhereasthePrincespenthislifeinphysicallyfollowingthehunt,CountRugenreadandstudiedanythinghecouldgethishandsondealingwiththesubjectofDistress.

“Allrightnow,”thePrincesaidtoWestley,wholayin

thegreatfifth-levelcage;“beforewebegin,Iwantyoutoanswermethis:haveyouanycomplaintsaboutyourtreatmentthusfar?”

“Nonewhatever,”Westleyreplied,andintruthhehadnone.Oh,hemighthavepreferredbeingunchainedabitnowandthen,butifyouweretobeacaptive,youcouldn’taskformorethanhehadbeengiven.Thealbino’s

medicalministrationshadbeenprecise,andhisshoulderwasfineagain;thefoodthealbinobroughthadalwaysbeenhotandnourishing,thewineandbrandywonderfullywarmingagainstthedanknessoftheundergroundcage.

“Youfeelfit,then?”thePrincewenton.

“Iassumemylegsarealittlestifffrombeingchained,but

otherthanthat,yes.”

“Good.ThenIpromiseyouthisasGodhimselfismywitness:answerthenextquestionandIwillsetyoufreethisnight.Butyoumustanswerithonestly,fully,withholdingnothing.Ifyoulie,Iwillknow.AndthenI’llloosetheCountonyou.”

“Ihavenothingtohide,”Westleysaid.“Askaway.”

“WhohiredyoutokidnapthePrincess?ItwassomeonefromGuilder.WefoundfabricindicatingasmuchonthePrincess’shorse.Tellmethatman’snameandyouarefree.Speak.”

“Noonehiredme,”Westleysaid.“Iwasworkingstrictlyfreelance.AndIdidn’tkidnapher;Isavedherfromotherswhoweredoingthatverything.”

“Youseemareasonablefellow,andmyPrincessclaimstohaveknownyoumanyyears,soIwillgiveyou,onheraccount,onelastandfinalchance:thenameofthemaninGuilderwhohiredyou.Tellmeorfacetorture.”

“Noonehiredme,Iswear.”

TheCountsetfiretoWestley’shands.Nothingpermanentordisabling;he

justdippedWestley’shandsinoilandbroughtacandlecloseenoughtosetthingsbubbling.WhenWestleyhadscreamed“NOONE—NOONE—NOONE—ONMYLIFE!”asufficientnumberoftimes,theCountdippedWestley’shandsinwater,andheandthePrinceleftviatheundergroundentrance,leavingthemedicationtothealbino,whowasalwaysnearbyduringthetorturing

times,butnevervisibleenoughtobedistracting.

“Ifeelquiteinvigorated,”theCountsaidasheandthePrincebegantoascendtheundergroundstaircase.“It’saperfectquestion.Hewastellingthetruth,clearly;webothknowthat.”

ThePrincenodded.TheCountwasprivytoallhisinnermostplansforthe

revengewar.

“I’mfascinatedtoseewhathappens,”theCountwenton.“Whichpainwillbeleastendurable?Thephysical,orthementalanguishofhavingfreedomofferedifthetruthistold,thentellingitandbeingthoughtaliar.”

“Ithinkthephysical,”saidthePrince.

“Ithinkyou’rewrong,”saidtheCount.

Actually,theywerebothwrong;Westleysufferednotatallthroughout.Hisscreamingwastotallyaperformancetopleasethem;hehadbeenpracticinghisdefensesforamonthnow,andhewasmorethanready.TheminutetheCountbroughtthecandleclose,Westleyraisedhiseyestothe

ceiling,droppedhiseyelidsoverthem,andinastateofdeepandsteadyconcentration,hetookhisbrainaway.Buttercupwaswhathethoughtof.Herautumnhair,herperfectskin,andhebroughtherveryclosebesidehim,andhadherwhisperinhisearthroughouttheburning:“Iloveyou.Iloveyou.IonlyleftyouintheFireSwamptotestyourloveforme.Isitasgreatas

mineforyou?Cantwosuchlovesexistononeplanetatonetime?Istherethatmuchroom,belovedWestley?...”

Thealbinobandagedhisfingers.

Westleylaystill.

Forthefirsttime,thealbinostartedthings.Whispered:“Youbettertellthem.”

FromWestley,ashrug.

Whispered:“Theyneverstop.Notoncetheystart.Tellthemwhattheywanttoknowandhavedonewithit.”

Shrug.

Whispered:“TheMachineisnearlyready.Theyaretestingitonanimalsnow.”

Shrug.

Whispered:“It’sforyourowngoodItellyouthesethings.”

“Myowngood?Whatgood?They’regoingtokillmeanyway.”

Fromthealbino:nod.

ThePrincefoundButtercupwaitingunhappilyoutsidehischamberdoors.

“It’smyletter,”shebegan.“Icannotmakeitright.”

“Comein,comein,”thePrincesaidgently.“Maybewecanhelpyou.”Shesatdowninthesamechairasbefore.“Allright,I’llclosemyeyesandlisten;readtome.”

“‘Westley,mypassion,mysweet,myonly,myown.Comeback,comeback.I

shallkillmyselfotherwise.Yoursintorment,Buttercup.’“ShelookedatHumperdinck.“Well?DoyouthinkI’mthrowingmyselfathim?”

“Itdoesseemabitforward,”thePrinceadmitted.“Itdoesn’tleavehimagreatdealofroomtomaneuver.”

“Willyouhelpmetoimproveit,please?”

“I’lldowhatIcan,sweetlady,butfirstitmighthelpifIknewjustabitabouthim.Ishereallysowonderful,thisWestleyofyours?”

“Notsomuchwonderfulasperfect,”shereplied.“Kindofflawless.Moreorlessmagnificent.Withoutblemish.Ratherontheidealside.”ShelookedatthePrince.“AmIbeinghelpful?”

“Ithinkemotionsarecloudingyourobjectivityjustabit.Doyouactuallythinkthatthereisnothingthefellowcan’tdo?”

Buttercupthoughtforawhile.“It’snotsomuchthatthere’snothinghecan’tdo;it’smorethathecandoitallbetterthananybodyelsecandoit.”

ThePrincechuckledandsmiled.“Inotherwords,for

example,youmeanifhewantedtohunt,hecouldouthunt,againforexample,someonesuchasmyself.”

“Oh,Iwouldthinkifhewantedto,hecould,quiteeasily,buthehappensnottolikehunting,atleasttomyknowledge,thoughmaybehedoes;Idon’tknow.IneverknewhewassointerestedinmountainclimbingbuthescaledtheCliffsofInsanity

undermostadverseconditions,andeveryoneagreesthatthatisnottheeasiestthingintheworldtoaccomplish.”

“Well,whydon’twejustbeginourletterwith‘DivineWestley,’andappealtohissenseofmodesty,”thePrincesuggested.

Buttercupbegantowrite,stopped.“Does‘divine’

begindeordi?”

“Di,Ibelieve,amazingcreature,”thePrincereplied,smilinggentlyasButtercupcommencedtheletter.Theycomposeditinfourhours,andmanymanytimesshesaid,“Icouldnevergetthroughthiswithoutyou”andthePrincewasalwaysmostmodest,askinglittlehelpfulpersonalquestionsaboutWestleyasoftenaswas

possiblewithoutdrawingattentiontoit,andinthisway,wellbeforedawn,shetoldhim,smilingassheremembered,ofWestley’searlyfearsofSpinningTicks.

Andthatnight,inthefifth-levelcage,thePrinceasked,ashewastoalwaysask,“TellmethenameofthemaninGuilderwhohiredyoutokidnapthePrincessandIpromiseyouimmediate

freedom”andWestleyreplied,ashewasalwaystoreply,“Noone,noone;Iwasalone”andtheCount,whohadspentthedaygettingtheSpinnersready,placedthemcarefullyonWestley’sskinandWestleyclosedhiseyesandbeggedandpleadedandafteranhourorsothePrinceandCountleft,thealbinoremainingbehindwiththechoreofburningtheSpinnersandthenpullingthemfree

fromWestley,lesttheyaccidentallypoisonhim,andonthewayuptheundergroundstairstogroundlevelthePrincesaid,justforconversation’ssake,“Muchbetter,don’tyouthink?”

TheCount,oddly,saidnothing.

WhichwasvaguelyirritatingtoHumperdinckbecause,totelltheabsolutetruth,torture

wasneverallthathighonhisscaleofpassions,andhewouldjustassoonhavedisposedofWestleyrightthen.

IfonlyButtercupwouldadmitthathe,Humperdinck,wasthebetterman.

Butshewouldnot!Shesimplywouldnot!AllsheevertalkedaboutwasWestley.Allsheeverasked

aboutwasnewsofWestley.Dayswentby,weekswentby,partyafterpartywentby,andallFlorinwasmovedbythespectacleoftheirgreathuntingPrinceatlastsoclearlyandwonderfullyinlove,butwhentheywerealone,allsheeversaidwas,“IwonderwherecouldWestleybe?Whatcouldbetakinghimsolong?HowcanIliveuntilhecomes?”

Maddening.Soeachnight,theCount’sdiscomforts,whichmadeWestleywritheandtwist,werereallysortofallright.ThePrincewouldmanageanhourorsoofspectatingbeforeheandtheCountwouldleave,theCountstilloddlysilent.Anddownbelow,tendingthewounds,thealbinowouldwhisper:“Tellthem.Please.Theywillonlyaddtoyoursuffering.”

Westleycouldbarelysuppresshissmile.

Hehadfeltnopain,notonce,none.Hehadclosedhiseyesandtakenhisbrainaway.Thatwasthesecret.Ifyoucouldtakeyourbrainawayfromthepresentandsendittowhereitcouldcontemplateskinlikewintrycream;well,letthemenjoythemselves.

Hisrevengetimewould

come.

WestleywaslivingnowmostofallforButtercup.Buttherewasnodenyingthattherewasonemorethinghewantedtoo.

Histime...

PrinceHumperdincksimplyhadnotime.Thereseemedtobenotonedecisioninallof

Florinthatonewayoranotherdidn’teventuallycomeheavilytorestuponhisshoulders.Notonlywashegettingmarried,hiscountrywashavingitsfivehundredthanniversary.Notonlywashenoodlingaroundinhismindthebestwaystogetawargoing,healsohadtoconstantlyhaveaffectionshiningfromhiseyes.Everydetailhadtobemet,andmetcorrectly.

Hisfatherwasjustnohelpatall,refusingeithertoexpireorstopmumbling(youthoughthisfatherwasdeadbutthatwasinthefake-out,don’tforget—Morgensternwasjustedgingintothenightmaresequence,sodon’tbeconfused)andstartmakingsense.QueenBellasimplyhoveredaroundhim,translatinghereandthere,anditwaswithashockthatPrinceHumperdinckrealized,

justtwelvedaysbeforehisweddingday,thathehadneglectedtosetinmotionthecrucialGuildersectionofhisplan,sohecalledYellintothecastlelateonenight.

YellinwasChiefofAllEnforcementinFlorinCity,ajobhehadinheritedfromhisfather.(ThealbinokeeperattheZoowasYellin’sfirstcousin,andtogethertheyformedtheonlypairof

nonnoblesthePrincecouldcomeclosetotrusting.)

“YourHighness,”Yellinsaid.Hewassmall,butcrafty,withdartingeyesandslipperyhands.

PrinceHumperdinckcameoutfrombehindhisdesk.HemovedclosetoYellinandlookedcarefullyaroundbeforesaying,softly,“Ihaveheard,fromunimpeachable

sources,thatmanymenofGuilderhave,oflate,beguntoinfiltrateourThievesQuarter.TheyaredisguisedasFlorinese,andIamworried.”

“Ihaveheardnothingofsuchathing,”Yellinsaid.

“Aprincehasspieseverywhere.”

“Iunderstand,”saidYellin.

“Andyouthink,sincetheevidencepointsthattheytriedtokidnapyourfiancéeonce,suchathingmighthappenagain?”

“It’sapossibility.”

“I’llcloseofftheThievesQuarterthen,”Yellinsaid.“Noonewillenterandnoonewillleave.”

“Notgoodenough,”saidthe

Prince.“IwanttheThievesQuarteremptiedandeveryvillainjaileduntilIamsafelyonmyhoneymoon.”Yellindidnotnodquicklyenough,sothePrincesaid,“Stateyourproblem.”

“MymenarenotalwaystoohappyatthethoughtofenteringtheThievesQuarter.Manyofthethievesresistchange.”

“Rootthemout.Formabrutesquad.Butgetitdone.”

“Ittakesatleastaweektogetadecentbrutesquadgoing,”Yellinsaid.“Butthatistimeenough.”Hebowed,andstartedtoleave.

Andthatwaswhenthescreambegan.

Yellinhadheardmanythingsinhislife,butnothingquite

soeerieasthis:hewasabraveman,butthissoundfrightenedhim.Itwasnothuman,buthecouldnotguessthethroatofthebeastitcamefrom.(Itwasactuallyawilddog,onthefirstleveloftheZoo,butnowilddoghadevershriekedlikethatbefore.Butthen,nowilddoghadeverbeenputintheMachine.)

Thesoundgrewinanguish,

anditfilledthenightskyasitspreadacrossthecastlegrounds,overthewalls,evenintotheGreatSquarebeyond.

Itwouldnotstop.Itsimplyhungnowbelowthesky,anaudiblereminderoftheexistenceofagony.IntheGreatSquare,halfadozenchildrenscreamedbackatthenight,tryingtoblotoutthesound.Somewept,someonlyranforhome.

Thenitbegantolesseninvolume.NowitwashardtohearintheGreatSquare,nowitwasgone.Nowitwashardtohearonthecastlewalls,nowitwasgonefromthecastlewalls.ItshrunkacrossthegroundstowardthefirstleveloftheZooofDeath,whereCountRugensatfiddlingwithsomeknobs.Thewilddogdied.CountRugenrose,anditwasallhecoulddotoburyhisown

shriekoftriumph.

HelefttheZooandrantowardPrinceHumperdinck’schambers.YellinwasjustgoingwhentheCountgotthere.ThePrincewasseatednow,behindhisdesk.WhenYellinwasgoneandtheywerealone,theCountbowedtohismajesty:“TheMachine,”hesaidatlast,“works.”

PrinceHumperdincktookawhilebeforeanswering.Itwasaticklishsituation,grantedhewastheboss,theCountmerelyanunderling,still,nooneinallFlorinhadRugen’sskills.Asaninventor,hehad,obviously,atlast,ridtheMachineofalldefects.Asanarchitect,hehadbeencrucialinthesafetyfactorsinvolvedintheZooofDeath,andithadundeniablybeenRugenwhohad

arrangedfortheonlysurvivableentrancebeingtheundergroundfifthlevelone.HewasalsosupportivetothePrinceinallendeavorsofhuntingandbattle,andyoudidn’tgiveafollowerlikethataquick“Getaway,boy,youbotherme.”Sotheprinceindeedtookawhile.

“Look,Ty,”hesaidfinally.“I’mjustthrilledyousmoothedallthebugsoutof

theMachine;Ineverforaminutedoubtedyou’dgetitrighteventually.AndI’mreallyanxiousascanbetoseeitworking.ButhowcanIputthis?Ican’tkeepmyheadabovewateroneminutetothenext:it’snotjustthepartiesandthegoo-gooingwithwhat’s-her-name,I’vegottodecidehowlongtheFiveHundredthAnniversaryParadeisgoingtobeandwheredoesitstartandwhen

doesitstartandwhichnoblemangetstomarchinfrontofwhichothernoblemansothateveryone’sstillspeakingtomeattheendofit,plusI’vegotawifetomurderandacountrytoframeforit,plusI’vegottogetthewargoingoncethat’sallhappened,andallthisisstuffI’vegottodomyself.Here’swhatitallcomesdownto:I’mjustswamped,Ty.Sohowaboutifyougoto

workonWestleyandtellmehowitgoes,andwhenIgetthetime,I’llcomewatchandI’msureit’llbejustwonderful,butfornow,whatI’dlikeisalittlebreathingroom,nohardfeelings?”

CountRugensmiled.“None.”Andthereweren’tany.Healwaysfeltbetterwhenhecoulddoleoutpainalone.Youcouldconcentratemuchmoredeeplywhenyouwere

alonewithagony.

“Iknewyou’dunderstand,Ty.”

TherewasaknockonthedoorandButtercupstuckherheadin.“Anynews?”shesaid.

ThePrincesmiledatherandsadlyshookhishead.“Honey,IpromisedtotellyouthesecondIheara

thing.”

“It’sonlytwelvedays,though.”

“Plentyoftime,dulcetdarling,nowdon’tworryyourself.”

“I’llleaveyou,”Buttercupsaid.

“Iwasgoingtoo,”theCountsaid.“MayIwalkyoutoyour

quarters?”

Buttercupnodded,anddownthecorridorstheywanderedtilltheyreachedhersuite.“Goodnight,”Buttercupsaidquickly;eversincethatdayhehadfirstcometoherfather’sfarm,shehadalwaysbeenafraidwhenevertheCountcamenear.

“I’msurehe’llcome,”theCountsaid;hewasprivyto

allthePrince’splans,andButtercupwaswellawareofthis.“Idon’tknowyourfellowwell,butheimpressedmegreatly.AnymanwhocanfindhiswaythroughtheFireSwampcanfindhiswaytoFlorinCastlebeforeyourweddingday.”

Buttercupnodded.

“Heseemedsostrong,soremarkablypowerful,”the

Countwenton,hisvoicewarmandlulling.“Ionlywonderedifhepossessedtruesensitivity,assomemenofgreatmight,asyouknow,donot.Forexample,Iwonder:ishecapableoftears?”

“Westleywouldnevercry,”Buttercupanswered,openingherchamberdoor.“Exceptforthedeathofalovedone.”AndwiththatsheclosedtheCountawayand,alone,went

toherbedandknelt.Westley,shethoughtthen.Docomeplease;Ihavebeggedyouinmythoughtsnowthesemanyweeksandstillnoword.Backwhenwewereonthefarm,IthoughtIlovedyou,butthatwasnotlove.WhenIsawyourfacebehindthemaskontheravinefloor,IthoughtIlovedyou,butthatwasagainnothingmorethandeepinfatuation.Beloved:IthinkIloveyounow,andIprayyou

onlygivemethechancetospendmylifeinconstantproving.IcouldspendmylifeintheFireSwampandsingfrommorntillnightifyouwerebyme.IcouldspendeternitysinkingdownthroughSnowSandifmyhandheldyourhand.Mypreferencewouldbetolasteternitywithyoubesidemeonacloud,buthellwouldalsobealarkifWestleywaswithme....

Shewentonthatway,silenthouraftersilenthour;shehaddonenothingelseforthirty-eighteveningsnow,andeachtime,herardordeepened,herthoughtsbecamemorepure.Westley.Westley.Flyingacrossthesevenseastoclaimher.

Forhispart,andquitewithoutknowing,Westleywasspendinghiseveningsinmuchthesamefashion.After

thetorturewasdone,whenthealbinohadfinishedtendinghisslashesorburnsorbreaks,whenhewasaloneinthegiantcage,hesenthisbraintoButtercup,andthereitdwelled.

Heunderstoodhersowell.Inhismind,herealizedthatmomentheleftheronthefarmwhenshesworelove,certainlyshemeantit,butshewasbarelyeighteen.What

didsheknowofthedepthoftheheart?Thenagain,whenhehadremovedhisblackmaskandshehadtumbledtohim,surprisehadbeenoperating,stunnedastonishmentasmuchasemotion.Butjustasheknewthatthesunwasobligedtoriseeachmorningintheeast,nomatterhowmuchawesternarisalmighthavepleasedit,soheknewthatButtercupwasobligedto

spendherloveonhim.Goldwasinviting,andsowasroyalty,buttheycouldnotmatchthefeverinhisheart,andsoonerorlatershewouldhavetocatchit.Shehadlesschoicethanthesun.

SowhentheCountappearedwiththeMachine,Westleywasnotparticularlyperturbed.Asamatteroffact,hehadnoideawhattheCountwasbringingwithhim

intothegiantcage.Asamatterofabsolutefact,theCountwasbringingnothing;itwasthealbinowhowasdoingtheactualwork,makingtripaftertripwiththingafterthing.

ThatwaswhatitreallylookedliketoWestley:things.Littlesoftrimmedcupsofvarioussizesandawheel,mostlikely,andanotherobjectthatcouldturn

outtobeeitheraleverorastick;itwashardtotell.

“Agoodgoodeveningtoyou,”theCountbegan.

Hehadnever,toWestley’smemory,shownsuchexcitement.Westleymadeaveryweaknodinreturn.Actually,hefeltaboutaswellasever,butitdidn’tdotoletthatkindofnewsgetaround.

“Feelingabitundertheweather?”theCountasked.

Westleymadeanotherfeeblenod.

Thealbinoscurriedinandout,bringingmorethings:wirelikeextensions,stringyandendless.

“Thatwillbeall,”theCountsaidfinally.

Nod.

Gone.

“ThisistheMachine,”theCountsaidwhentheywerealone.“I’vespentelevenyearsconstructingit.Asyoucantell,I’mratherexcitedandproud.”

Westleymanagedanaffirmativeblink.

“I’llbeputtingittogetherforawhile.”Andwiththat,hegotbusy.

Westleywatchedtheconstructionwithagooddealofinterestand,logicallyenough,curiosity.

“Youheardthatscreamabitearlieronthisevening?”

Anotheraffirmativeblink.

“Thatwasawilddog.Thismachinecausedthesound.”ItwasaverycomplexjobtheCountwasdoing,butthesixfingersonhisrighthandneverforamomentseemedindoubtastojustwhattodo.“I’mveryinterestedinpain,”theCountsaid,“asI’msureyou’vegatheredthesepastmonths.Inanintellectualway,actually.I’vewritten,ofcourse,forthemorelearnedjournalsonthesubject.

Articlesmostly.AtthepresentI’mengagedinwritingabook.Mybook.Thebook,Ihope.Thedefinitiveworkonpain,atleastasweknowitnow.”

Westleyfoundthewholethingfascinating.Hemadealittlegroan.

“Ithinkpainisthemostunderratedemotionavailabletous,”theCountsaid.“The

Serpent,tomyinterpretation,waspain.Painhasbeenwithusalways,anditalwaysirritatesmewhenpeoplesay‘asimportantaslifeanddeath’becausetheproperphrase,tomymind,shouldbe,‘asimportantaspainanddeath.’“TheCountfellsilentforatimethen,ashebeganandcompletedaseriesofcomplexadjustments.“Oneofmytheories,”hesaidsomewhatlater,“isthatpain

involvesanticipation.Nothingoriginal,Iadmit,butI’mgoingtodemonstratetoyouwhatImean:Iwillnot,underlinenot,usetheMachineonyouthisevening.Icould.It’sreadyandtested.ButinsteadIwillsimplyerectitandleaveitbesideyou,foryoutostareatthenexttwenty-fourhours,wonderingjustwhatitisandhowitworksandcanitreallybeasdreadfulasallthat.”He

tightenedsomethingshere,loosenedsomemoreoverthere,tuggedandpattedandshaped.

TheMachinelookedsosillyWestleywastemptedtogiggle.Instead,hegroanedagain.

“I’llleaveyoutoyourimagination,then,”theCountsaid,andhelookedatWestley.“ButIwantyouto

knowonethingbeforetomorrownighthappenstoyou,andImeanit:youarethestrongest,themostbrilliantandbrave,themostaltogetherworthycreatureithaseverbeenmyprivilegetomeet,andIfeelalmostsadthat,forthepurposesofmybookandfuturepainscholars,Imustdestroyyou.”

“Thank...you...”Westleybreathedsoftly.

TheCountwenttothecagedoorandsaidoverhisshoulder,“Andyoucanstopallyourperformingabouthowweakandbeatenyouare;youhaven’tfooledmeforamonth.You’repracticallyasstrongnowasonthedayyouenteredtheFireSwamp.Iknowyoursecret,ifthat’sanyconsolationtoyou.”

“...secret?”Hushed,

strained.

“You’vebeentakingyourbrainaway,”theCountcried.“Youhaven’tfelttheleastdiscomfortinallthesemonths.Youraiseyoureyesanddropyoureyelidsandthenyou’reoff,probablywith—Idon’tknow—her,mostlikely.Goodnightnow.Tryandsleep.Idoubtyou’llbeableto.Anticipation,remember?”Withawave,he

mountedtheundergroundstairs.

Westleycouldfeelthesuddenpressureofhisheart.

Soonthealbinocame,kneltbyWestley’sear.Whispered:“I’vebeenwatchingyouallthesedays.Youdeservebetterthanwhat’scoming.I’mneeded.NooneelsefeedsthebeastsasIdo.I’msafe.Theywon’thurtme.I’ll

killyouifyou’dlike.Thatwouldfoilthem.I’vegotsomegoodpoison.Ibegyou.I’veseentheMachine.Iwastherewhenthewilddogscreamed.Pleaseletmekillyou.You’llthankme,Iswear.”

“Imustlive.”

Whispered:“But—”

Interruption:“Theywillnot

reachme.Iamallright.Iamfine.Iamalive,andIwillstaythatway.”Hesaidthewordsloud,andhesaidthemwithpassion.Butforthefirsttimeinalongtime,therewasterror....

“Well,couldyousleep?”theCountaskedthenextnightuponhisarrivalinthecage.

“Quitehonestly,no,”Westley

repliedinhisnormalvoice.

“I’mgladyou’rebeinghonestwithme;I’llbehonestwithyou;nomorecharadesbetweenus,”theCountsaid,puttingdownanumberofnotebooksandquillpensandinkbottles.“Imustcarefullytrackyourreactions,”heexplained.

“Inthenameofscience?”

TheCountnodded.“Ifmyexperimentsarevalid,mynamewilllastbeyondmybody.It’simmortalityI’mafter,tobequitehonest.”HeadjustedafewknobsontheMachine.“Isupposeyou’renaturallycuriousastohowthisworks.”

“IhavespentthenightponderingandIknownomorethanwhenIstarted.Itappearstobeagreat

conglomerationofsoftrimmedcupsofinfinitelyvariedsizes,togetherwithawheelandadialandalever,andwhatitdoesisbeyondme.”

“Alsoglue,”addedtheCount,pointingtoasmalltubofthickstuff.“Tokeepthecupsattached.”Andwiththat,hesettowork,takingcupaftercup,touchingthesoftrimswithglue,andsettingthem

againstWestley’sskin.“EventuallyI’llhavetoputoneonyourtonguetoo,”theCountsaid,“butI’llsavethatforlastincaseyouhaveanyquestions.”

“Thiscertainlyisn’ttheeasiestthingtogetsetup,isit?”

“I’llbeabletofixthatinlatermodels,”theCountsaid;“atleastthosearemypresent

plans,”andhekeptrightonputtingcupaftercuponWestley’sskinuntileveryinchofexposedsurfacewascovered.“Somuchfortheoutside,”theCountsaidthen.“Thisnextisabitmoredelicate;trynottomove.”

“I’mchainedhand,headandfoot,”Westleysaid.“HowmuchmovementdoyouthinkI’mcapableof?”

“Areyoureallyasbraveasyousound,orareyoualittlefrightened?Thetruth,please.Thisisforposterity,remember.”

“I’malittlefrightened,”Westleyreplied.

TheCountjottedthatdown,alongwiththetime.Thenhegotdowntothefinework,andsoonthereweretinytinysoftrimmedcupsonthe

insidesofWestley’snostrils,againsthiseardrums,underhiseyelids,aboveandbelowhistongue,andbeforetheCountarose,Westleywascoveredinsideandoutwiththethings.“NowallIdo,”theCountsaidveryloudly,hopingWestleycouldhear,“isgetthewheelgoingtoitsfastestspinsothatIhavemorethanenoughpowertooperate.Andthedialcanbesetfromonetotwentyand,

thisbeingthefirsttime,Iwillsetitatthelowestsetting,whichisone.AndthenallIneeddoispushtheleverforward,andweshould,ifIhaven’tgummeditup,beinfulloperation.”

ButWestley,asthelevermoved,tookhisbrainaway,andwhentheMachinebegan,Westleywasstrokingherautumn-coloredhairandtouchingherskinofwintry

creamand—and—andthenhisworldexploded—becausethecups,thecupswereeverywhere,andbefore,theyhadpunishedhisbodybutlefthisbrain,onlynottheMachine;theMachinereachedeverywhere—hiseyeswerenothistocontrolandhisearscouldnothearhergentlelovingwhisperandhisbrainslidaway,slidfarfromloveintothedeepfaultofdespair,hithard,fellagain,

downthroughthehouseofagonyintothecountyofpain.Insideandout,Westley’sworldwasrippingapartandhecoulddonothingbutcrackalongwithit.

TheCountturnedofftheMachinethen,andashepickeduphisnotebookshesaid,“Asyounodoubtknow,theconceptofthesuctionpumpiscenturiesold—well,basically,that’sallthisis,

exceptinsteadofwater,I’msuckinglife;I’vejustsuckedawayoneyearofyourlife.LaterI’llsetthedialhigher,certainlytotwoorthree,perhapseventofive.Theoretically,fiveshouldbefivetimesmoreseverethanwhatyou’vejustendured,sopleasebespecificinyouranswers.Tellmenow,honestly:howdoyoufeel?”

Inhumiliation,andsuffering,

andfrustration,andanger,andanguishsogreatitwasdizzying,Westleycriedlikeababy.

“Interesting,”saidtheCount,andcarefullynoteditdown.

IttookYellinaweektogethisenforcerstogetherinsufficientnumber,togetherwithanadequatebrutesquad.Andso,fivedaysbeforethe

wedding,hestoodattheheadofhiscompanyawaitingthespeechofthePrince.Thiswasinthecastlecourtyard,andwhenthePrinceappeared,theCountwas,asusual,withhim,although,notasusual,theCountseemedpreoccupied.Which,ofcourse,hewas,thoughYellinhadnowayofknowingthat.TheCounthadsuckedtenyearsfromWestleythispastweek,and,withthelifeof

sixty-fivethatwasaverageforaFlorinesemale,thevictimhadapproximatelythirtyyearsremaining,assuminghewasabouttwenty-fivewhentheystartedexperimenting.Buthowbesttogoaboutdividingthat?TheCountwassimplyinaquandary.Somanypossibilities,butwhichwouldprove,scientifically,mostinteresting?TheCountsighed;lifewasnevereasy.

“Youarehere,”thePrincebegan,“becausetheremaybeanotherplotagainstmybeloved.Ichargeeachandeveryoneofyouwithbeingherpersonalprotector.IwanttheThievesQuarteremptyandalltheinhabitantsjailedtwenty-fourhoursbeforemywedding.OnlythenwillIresteasy.Gentlemen,Ibegyou:thinkofthismissionasbeinganaffairoftheheart,andIknowyouwillnotfail.”With

thathepivotedand,followedbytheCount,hurriedfromthecourtyard,leavingYellinincommand.

TheconquestoftheThievesQuarterbeganimmediately.Yellinworkedlongandhardatiteachday,buttheThievesQuarterwasamilesquare,sotherewasmuchtodo.Mostofthecriminalshadbeenthroughunjustandillegalround-upsbefore,sothey

offeredlittleresistance.Theyknewthejailswerenotcelledenoughforallofthem,soifitmeantafewdays’incarceration,whatdiditmatter?

Therewas,however,asecondgroupofcriminals,thosewhorealizedthatcapturemeant,forvariouspastperformances,death,andthese,withoutexception,resisted.Ingeneral,Yellin,

throughadroithandlingoftheBruteSquad,wasabletobringthesebadfellows,eventually,undercontrol.

Still,thirty-sixhoursbeforethesunsetwedding,therewerehalfadozenholdoutsleftintheThievesQuarter.Yellinaroseatdawnand,tiredandconfused—notoneofthecapturedcriminalsseemedtocomefromGuilder—hegatheredthebestofthe

BruteSquadandledthemintotheThievesQuarterforwhatsimplyhadtobethefinalforay.

YellinwentimmediatelytoFalkbridge’sAlehouse,firstsendingallsavetwoBrutesoffonvarioustasks,keepinganoisyoneandaquietoneforhisownneeds.HeknockedonFalkbridge’sdoorandwaited.Falkbridgewasbyfarthemostpowerfulman

intheThievesQuarter.Heseemedalmosttoownhalfofitandtherewasn’tacrimeofanydimensionhewasn’tbehind.Healwaysavoidedarrest,andeveryoneexceptYellinthoughtFalkbridgemustbebribingsomebody.Yellinknewhewasbribingsomebody,sinceeverymonth,rainorshine,FalkbridgecametoYellin’shouseandgavehimasatchelfullofmoney.

“Who?”Falkbridgecalledfrominsidethealehouse.

“TheChiefofAllEnforcementinFlorinCity,accompaniedbyBrutes,”Yellinreplied.Completenesswasoneofhisvirtues.

“Oh.”Falkbridgeopenedthedoor.Forapower,hewasveryunimposing,shortandchubby.“Comein.”

Yellinentered,leavingthetwoBrutesinthedoorway.“Getreadyandbequick,”Yellinsaid.

“Hey,Yellin,it’sme,”Falkbridgesaidsoftly.

“Iknow,Iknow,”Yellinsaidsoftlyrightback.“Butplease,domeafavor,getready.”

“PretendIdid.I’llstayinthealehouse,Ipromise.Igot

enoughfood;noonewilleverknow.”

“ThePrinceiswithoutmercy,”Yellinsaid.“IfIletyoustayandI’mfoundout,that’sitforme.”

“Ibeenpayingyoutwentyyearstostayoutofjail.You’rearichmanjustsoIdon’thavetogotojail.Where’sthelogicofmepayingyouandno

advantages?”

“I’llmakeituptoyou.I’llgetyouthebestcellinFlorinCity.Don’tyoutrustme?”

“HowcanItrustamanIpaytwentyyearstostayoutofjailwhenallofasudden,theminutealittleextrapressure’son,hesays‘gotojail’?I’mnotgoing.”

“You!”Yellinsignaledtothe

noisyone.

TheBrutestartedrunningforward.

“Putthismaninthewagonimmediately,”Yellinsaid.

Falkbridgewasstartingtoexplainwhenthenoisyoneclubbedhimacrosstheneck.

“Notsohard!”Yellincried.

ThenoisyonepickedupFalkbridge,trieddustinghisclothes.

“Ishealive?”Yellinasked.

“See,Ididn’tknowyouwantedhimbreathinginthewagon;Ithoughtyouonlywantedhiminthewagonbreathingornot,so—”

“Enough,”Yellininterruptedand,upset,hehurriedoutof

thealehousewhilethenoisyonebroughtFalkbridge.“Isthateveryonethen?”YellinaskedasvariousBruteswerevisibleleavingtheThievesQuarterpullingvariouswagons.

“Ithinkthere’sstillthefencerwiththebrandy,”thenoisyonebegan.“See,theytriedgettinghimoutyesterdaybut—”

“Ican’tbebotheredwithadrunk;I’manimportantman,gethimoutofhereanddoitnow,bothofyou;takethewagonwithyou,andbequick!ThisquartermustbelockedanddesertedbysundownorthePrincewillbemadatme,andIdon’tlikeitmuchwhenthePrinceismadatme.”

“We’regoing,we’regoing,”thenoisyonereplied,andhe

hurriedoff,lettingthequietonebringthewagonwithFalkbridgeinside.“Theytriedgettingthisfenceryesterday,someofthestandardenforcers,butitseemshehascertainswordskillsthatmadethemwary,butIthinkIhaveatrickthatwillwork.”Thequietonehurriedalongbehind,draggingthewagon.Theyroundedacorner,andfromaroundanothercornerjustupahead,akindof

drunkenmumblingwasstartingtogetlouder.

“I’mgettingverybored,Vizzini”camefromoutofsight.“Threemonthsisalongtimetowait,especiallyforapassionateSpaniard.”Muchloudernow:”AndIamverypassionate,Vizzini,andyouarenothingbutatardySicilian.Soifyou’renothereinninetymoredays,I’mdonewithyou.Youhear?Done!“

Muchsofternow:“Ididn’tmeanthat,Vizzini,Ijustlovemyfilthystoop,takeyourtime....”

ThenoisyBruteslowed.“Thatkindoftalkgoesonallday;ignoreit,andkeepthewagonoutofsight.”Thequietonepushedthewagonalmosttothecornerandstoppedit.“Staywiththewagon,”thenoisyoneadded,andthenwhispered,“Here

comesmytrick.”Withthathewalkedalonearoundthecornerandstaredaheadattheskinnyfellowsittingclutchingthebrandybottleonthestoop.“Hothere,friend,”thenoisyonesaid.

“I’mnotmoving;keepyour‘hothere’“saidthebrandydrinker.

“Hearmethrough,please:IhavebeensentbyPrince

Humperdinckhimself,whoisinneedofentertainment.Tomorrowisourcountry’sfivehundredthanniversaryandthedozengreatesttumblersandfencersandentertainersareatthisverymomentcompeting.Thefinestpairwillcompetepersonallytomorrowforthenewbrideandgroom.Now,astowhyI’mhere:yesterday,someofmyfriendstriedroustingyouandthey

said,later,thatyouresistedwithsomesplendidswordwork.So,ifyouwouldlike,I,atgreatpersonalsacrifice,willrushyoutothefencingcontest,where,ifyouareasgoodasIamtold,youmighthaveyetthehonorofentertainingtheRoyalCoupletomorrow.Doyouthinkyoucouldwinsuchacompetition?”

“Breezing.”

“Thenhurrywhilethere’sstilltimetoenter.”

TheSpaniardmanagedtostand.Heunsheathedhisswordandflasheditafewtimesacrossthemorning.

Thenoisyonetookafewquickstepsbackwardandsaid,“Notimetowaste;comealongnow.”

Thenthedrunkstarted

yelling:“I’m—waiting—for—Vizzini—”

“Meanie.”

“I’m—not—mean,I’m—just—following—the—rule—”

“Cruel.”

“Not—cruel,not—mean;can’tyouunderstandI’m...”andherehisvoicetrailedoffforamomentashesquinted.

Then,quietly,hesaid,“Fezzik?”

Frombehindthenoisyone,thequietonesaid,“Whosays-ik?”

Inigotookastepfromhisstoop,tryingdesperatelytomakehiseyesfocusthroughthebrandy.”‘Says-ik’?Isthatajokeyoumade?”

Thequietonesaid,“Played.”

Inigogaveacryandstartedstaggeringforward:”Fezzik,it’syou!”

“TRUE!”Andhereachedout,grabbedInigojustbeforehestumbled,broughthimbacktoanuprightposition.

“Holdhimjustlikethat,”thenoisyBrutesaid,andhemovedinquickly,rightarmraised,ashehaddonetoFalkbridge.

SPLAT!

FezzikdumpedthenoisyBruteintothewagonbesideFalkbridge,coveredthembothwithasoiledblanket,thenhurriedbacktoInigo,whomhehadleftleaningproppedagainstabuilding.

“It’sjustsogoodtoseeyou,”Fezziksaidthen.

“Oh,itis...it...is,but...”Inigo’svoicewaswindingsteadilydownnow.“I’mtooweakforsurprises”werethelastsoundshegotoutbeforehefaintedfromfatigueandbrandyandnofoodandbadsleepandlotsofotherthings,noneofthemnutritious.

Fezzikhoistedhimupwith

onearm,tookthewagonintheother,andhurriedbacktoFalkbridge’shouse.HecarriedInigoinside,placedhimupstairsonFalkbridge’sfeatherbed,thenhurriedawaytotheentranceoftheThievesQuarter,draggingthewagonbehindhim.Hemadeverysurethatthedirtyblanketcoveredboththevictims,andoutsidetheentrancetheBruteSquadheldabootcountofthosetheyhad

removed.Thetotalcameoutright,and,byeleveninthemorning,thegreatwalledThievesQuarterwasofficiallyemptyandpadlocked.

Releasedfromactiveduty,Fezzikfollowedthewallaroundtoaquietplaceandwaited.Hewasalone.Wallswereneveranyproblemforhim,notsolongashisarmsworked,andhequickly

scaledthisoneandhurriedbackthroughthequietstreetstoFalkbridge’shouse.Hemadesometea,carrieditupstairs,force-fedInigo.Withinafewmoments,Inigowasblinkingunderhisownpower.

“It’sjustsogoodtoseeyou,”Fezziksaidthen.

“Oh.itis,itis,”Inigoagreed,“andI’msorryforfainting,

butIhavedonenothingforninetydaysbutwaitforVizzinianddrinkbrandy,andasurpriselikeseeingyou,well,thatwasjusttoomuchformeonanemptystomach.ButI’mfinenow.”

“Good,”Fezziksaid.“Vizziniisdead.”

“Heis,eh?Dead,yousay...Vizz...”andthenhefaintedagain.

Fezzikbeganberatinghimself.“Oh,youstupid,ifthere’sarightwayandawrongway,trustyoutofindthedumbway;fool,fool,backtothebeginningwastherule.”Fezzikreallyfeltidioticthenbecause,aftermonthsofforgetting,nowthathedidn’tneedtorememberanymore,heremembered.Hehurrieddownstairsandmadesometeaandbroughtsomecrackersandhoneyandfed

Inigoagain.

WhenInigoblinked,Fezziksaid,“Rest.”

“Thankyou,myfriend;nomorefainting.”Andheclosedhiseyesandsleptforanhour.

FezzikbusiedhimselfinFalkbridge’skitchen.Hereallydidn’tknowhowtoprepareapropermeal,buthecouldheatandhecouldcool

andhecouldsniffthegoodmeatfromtherotted,soitwasn’ttoogreatatasktofinallyendupwithsomethingthatoncelookedlikeroastbeefandanotherthingthatcouldhavebeenapotato.

TheunexpectedsmellofhotfoodbroughtInigoaround,andhelayinbed,eatingeverybiteFezzikfedhim.“IneverrealizedIwasinsuchterriblecondition,”Inigosaid,

chewingaway.

“Shhh,you’llbefinenow,”Fezziksaid,cuttinganotherpieceofmeat,puttingitintoInigo’smouth.

Inigocheweditcarefullydown.“Firstyouappearingsosuddenlyandthen,ontopofthat,thebusinessofVizzini.Itwastoomuchforme.”

“Itwouldhavebeentoomuch

foranybody;justrest.”Fezzikbegantocutanotherpieceofmeat.

“Ifeelsuchababy,sohelpless,”Inigosaid,takingthenextbite,chewingaway.

“You’llbeasstrongaseverbysundown,”Fezzikpromised,gettingthenextpieceofmeatready.“Thesix-fingeredmanisnamedCountRugenandhe’shere

rightnowinFlorinCity.”

“Interesting,”Inigomanagedthistimebeforehefaintedagain.

Fezzikstoodoverthestillfigure.“Wellitissogoodtoseeyou,”hesaid,“andit’sbeensuchalongtimeandI’vejustgotsomuchnews.”

Inigoonlylaythere.

FezzikhurriedtoFalkbridge’stubandpluggeditupandafteralotofworkhegotitfilledwithsteamingwaterandthenhedunkedInigoin,holdinghimdownwithonehand,holdingInigo’smouthshutwiththeother,andwhenthebrandybegantosweatfromtheSpaniard’sbody,Fezzikemptiedthetubandfilleditagain,withicywaterthistime,andbackheplunged

Inigo,andwhenthatwaterbegantowarmabitbackhefilledthetubwithsteamingstuffandbackwentInigoandnowthebrandywasreallyoozingfromhisporesandthatwashowitwent,hourafterhour,hottoicycoldtosteaminghotandthensometeaandthensometoastandthensomesteaminghotagainandmoreicycoldandthenanapandthenmoretoastandlessteabutthelongest

steameryetandthistimetherewasn’tmuchbrandyleftinsideandonefinalicycoldandthenatwo-hoursleepuntilbymidafternoon,theysatdownstairsinFalkbridge’skitchen,andnow,atlast,forthefirsttimeinninetydays,Inigo’seyeswerealmostbright.Hishandsdidshake,butnotallthatnoticeably,andperhapstheInigoofbeforethebrandywouldhavebestedthisfellownowin

sixtyminutesofsolidfencing.Butnottoomanyothermastersintheworldwouldhavesurvivedforfive.

“Tellmebrieflynow:whileI’vebeenherewiththebrandy,youhavebeenwhere?”

“Well,IspentsometimeinafishingvillageandthenIwanderedabit,andthenafewweeksagoIfoundmyself

inGuilderandthetalktherewasofthecomingweddingandperhapsacomingwarandIrememberedButtercupwhenIcarriedheruptheCliffsofInsanity;shewassoprettyandsoftandIhadneverbeensonearperfumebeforethatIthoughtitmightbenicetoseeherweddingcelebrations,soIcamehere,butmymoneywasgone,andthentheywereformingabrutesquadandneededgiants

andIwenttoapplyandtheybeatmewithclubstoseeifIwasstrongenoughandwhentheclubsbroketheydecidedIwas.I’vebeenaBruteFirstClassallthispastweek;it’sverygoodpay.”

Inigonodded.“Allright,again,andthistimepleasebebrief,fromthebeginning:themaninblack.Didhegetbyyou?”

“Yes.Fairlytoo.Strengthagainststrength.Iwastooslowandoutofpractice.”

“ThenitwashethatkilledVizzini?”

“Thatismybelief.”

“Didheusehisswordorhisstrength?”

Fezziktriedtoremember.“Thereweren’tanysword

woundsandVizzinididn’tseembroken.TherewerejustthesetwogobletsandVizzinidead.Poisonismyguess.”

“WhywouldVizzinitakepoison?”

Fezzikhadn’ttheleastidea.

“Buthewasdefinitelydead?”

Fezzikwaspositive.

Inigobegantopacethekitchen,hismovementsquickandsharp,thewayhismovementswerebefore.“Allright,Vizziniisdead,enoughofthat.Tellmebrieflywherethesix-fingeredRugenissoImaykillhim.”

“Thatmaynotbesoeasy,Inigo,becausetheCountiswiththePrince,andthePrinceisinhiscastle,andheispledgednottoleaveittill

afterhiswedding,forhefearsanothersneakattackfromGuilder,andalltheentrancesbutthemainonearesealedforsafetyandthemaindoorsareguardedbytwentymen.”

“Hmmm,”Inigosaid,pacingfasternow.“IfyoufoughtfiveandIfencedfive,thatwouldmeantengone,whichwouldbebadbecausethatwouldalsomeantenleftandtheywouldkillus.But,”and

nowhepickeduphispaceevenmore,“ifyoushouldtakesixandItookeight,thatwouldmeanfourteenbeaten,whichwouldnotbeasbadbutstillbadenough,sincethesixremainingwouldkillus.”AndnowhewhirledonFezzik.“Howmanycouldyouhandleatthemost?”

“Well,someofthemarefromtheBruteSquad,soIdon’tthinkmorethaneight.”

“Leavingmetwelve,whichisnotimpossible,butnotthebestwaytospendyourfirsteveningafterthreemonthsonbrandy.”AndsuddenlyInigo’sbodysaggedandinhiseyes,brightamomentago,nowtherewasmoisture.

“Whathashappened?”Fezzikcried.

“Oh,myfriend,myfriend,IneedVizzini.Iamnota

planner.Ifollow.Tellmewhattodoandnomanalivedoesitbetter.Butmymindislikefinewine;ittravelsbadly.Igofromthoughttothoughtbutnotwithlogic,andIforgetthings,andhelpme,Fezzik,whatamItodo?”

Fezzikwantedtocrynowtoo.“I’mthestupidestfellowthatwaseverborn;youknowthat.Icouldn’tremembertocomebackhereevenafter

youmadeupthatspeciallovelyrhymeforme.”

“IneedVizzini.”

“ButVizziniisdead.”

AndthenInigowasupagain,blazingaboutthekitchen,andforthefirsttimehisfingersweresnappingwithexcitement:“Idon’tneedVizzini;Ineedhismaster:Ineedthemaninblack!Look

—hebestedmewithsteel,mygreatness;hebestedyouwithstrength;yours.HemusthaveoutplannedandoutthoughtVizziniandhewilltellmehowtobreakthroughthecastleandkillthesix-fingeredbeast.Ifyouhavetheleastnotionwherethemaninblackisatthismoment,relate,quicklytheanswer.”

“Hesailsthesevenseaswith

theDreadPirateRoberts.”

“Whywouldhedoathinglikethat?”

“BecauseheisasailorfortheDreadPirateRoberts.”

“Asailor?Acommonsailor?AcommonordinaryseamanbeststhegreatInigoMontoyawiththesword?In-con-ceiv-a-ble.HemustbetheDreadPirateRoberts.Otherwiseit

makesnosense.”

“Inanyevent,heissailingfaraway.CountRugensayssoandthePrincehimselfgavetheorder.ThePrincewantsnopiratesaround,whatwithallthetroubleheishavingwithGuilder—remember,theykidnappedthePrincessonce,theymighttry—”

“Fezzik,wekidnappedthePrincessonce.Younever

werestrongonmemory,butevenyoushouldrecallthatweputtheGuilderuniformpiecesunderthePrincess’ssaddle.Vizzinididitbecausehewasunderorderstodoit.SomeonewantedGuildertolookguiltyandwhobutanoblewouldwantthatandwhatnoblemorethanthewar-lovingPrincehimself?WeneverknewwhohiredVizzini.IguessHumperdinck.Andasforthe

Count’swordonthemaninblack’swhereabouts,sincetheCountisthesamemanwhoslaughteredmyfather,wecanrestassuredthatheiscertainlyaterrificfellow.”Hestartedforthedoor.“Come.Wehavemuchtodo.”

FezzikfollowedhimthroughthedarkeningstreetsoftheThievesQuarter.“You’llexplainthingstomeaswegoalong?”Fezzikasked.

“I’llexplainthemtoyounow....”Hisbladelikebodyknifedonthroughthequietstreets,Fezzikhurryingalongside,“(a)IneedtoreachCountRugentoatlastavengemyfather;(b)IcannotplanonhowtoreachCountRugen;(c)Vizzinicouldhaveplanneditformebut,(cprime)Vizziniisunavailable;however,(d)themaninblackoutplannedVizzini,so,therefore,(e)themanin

blackcangetmetoCountRugen.”

“ButItoldyou,PrinceHumperdinck,afterhecapturedhim,gaveordersforalltohearthatthemaninblackwastobereturnedsafelytohisship.EveryoneinFlorinknowsthistobeso.”

“(a)PrinceHumperdinckhadsomeplanstokillhisfiancéeandhiredustocarrythemout

but(b)themaninblackruinedPrinceHumperdinck’splans;however,eventually,(c)PrinceHumperdinckmanagedtocapturethemaninblack,and,aseverybodyinallFlorinCityalsoknows,PrinceHumperdinckhasaterribletemper,so,therefore,(d)ifamanhasaterribletemper,whatcouldbemorefunthanlosingitagainsttheveryfellowwhospoiledyourplanstokillyourfiancée?”

TheyhadreachedtheThievesQuarterwallnow.InigojumpedonFezzik’sshouldersandFezzikstartedtoclimb.“Conclusion(1),”Inigocontinued,notmissingabeat,“sincethePrinceisinFlorinCitytakingouthistemperonthemaninblack,themaninblackmustalsobeinFlorinCity.Conclusion(2),themaninblackmustnotbetoohappywithhispresentsituation.Conclusion(3),I

aminFlorinCityandneedaplannertoavengemyfather,whileheisinFlorinCityandneedsarescuertosalvagehisfuture,andwhenpeoplehaveequalneedsofeachother,conclusion(4andfinal)dealsaremade.”

Fezzikreachedthetopofthewallandstartedcarefullyclimbingdowntheotherside.“Iunderstandeverything,”hesaid.

“Youunderstandnothing,butitreallydoesn’tmatter,sincewhatyoumeanis,you’regladtoseeme,justasI’mgladtoseeyoubecausenomoreloneliness.”

“That’swhatImean,”saidFezzik.

ItwasduskwhentheybegantheirsearchblindlythroughallofFlorinCity.Dusk,aday

beforethewedding.CountRugenwasabouttobeginhisnightlyexperimentsatthatdusk,gatheringuphisnotebooksfromhisroom,filledwithallhisjottings.Fivelevelsunderground,behindhighcastlewalls,lockedandchainedandsilent,WestleywaitedbesidetheMachine.Inaway,hestilllookedlikeWestley,except,ofcourse,thathehadbeenbroken.Twentyyearsofhis

lifehadbeensuckedaway.Twentywereleft.Painwasanticipation.SoontheCountwouldcomeagain.Againstanywisheshehadleft,Westleywentoncrying.

ItwasduskwhenButtercupwenttoseethePrince.Sheknockedloudly,waited,knockedagain.Shecouldhearhimshoutinginside,andifithadnotbeenso

important,shewouldneverhaveknockedthethirdtime,butshedid,andthedoorwasyankedopen,andthelookofangeronhisfaceimmediatelychangedtothesweetestsmile.“Beloved,”hesaid.“Comein.AmomentmoreisallIneed.”AndheturnedbacktoYellin.“Lookather,Yellin.Mybride-to-be.Hasanymaneverbeensoblessed?”

Yellinshookhishead.

“AmIwrong,doyouthink,togotoanylengths,then,toprotecther?”

Yellinshookhisheadagain.ThePrincewasdrivinghimcrazywithhisstoriesoftheGuilderinfiltration.Yellinhadeveryspyhe’deverusedworkingdayandnightandnotoneofthemhadcomeupwithanythingaboutGuilder.

AndyetthePrinceinsisted.Inwardly,Yellinsighed.Itwasbeyondhim;hewassimplyanenforcer,notaprince.Infact,theonlyremotelydisturbingnewshe’dheardsincehe’dclosedtheThievesQuarterthatmorningwaswithinthehour,whensomeonetoldhimofarumorthattheshipoftheDreadPirateRobertshadperhapsbeenseensailingallthewayintoFlorinChannel

itself.Butsuchathing,Yellinknewfromlongexperience,was,simply,rumor.

“I’lltellyou,theyareeverywhere,theseGuilders,”thePrincewenton.“Andsinceyouseemunabletostopthem,Iwishtochangesomeplans.Allthegateshavebeensealedtomycastleexceptthefrontone,yes?”

“Yes.Andtwentymenguard

it.”

“Addeightymore.Iwantahundredmen.Clear?”

“Ahundredmenitwillbe.EveryBruteavailable.”

“InsidethecastleI’mquitesafe.Ihavemyownsupplies,food,stables,enough.Aslongastheycannotgetatme,Iwillsurvive.These,then,arethenewandfinalplans—

jotthemdown.Allfive-hundredth-anniversaryarrangementsarecanceleduntilafterthewedding.Theweddingistomorrowsunset.MybrideandIwillridemywhitestoFlorinChannelsurroundedbyallyourenforcers.Therewewillboardashipandbeginourlong-awaitedhoneymoonsurroundedbyeveryshipintheFlorinArmada—”

“Everyshipbutfour,”Buttercupcorrected.

Heblinkedatheramomentinsilence.Thenhesaid,blowingherakiss,butdiscreetly,soYellincouldn’tsee,“Yes,yes,howforgetfulIam,everyshipbutfour.”HeturnedbacktoYellin.

Butinhisblink,inthatfollowingsilence,Buttercuphadseenitall.

“ThoseshipswillstaywithusuntilIdeemitsafetoreleasethem.Ofcourse,Guildercouldattackthen,butthatisachancewemustrisk.Letmethinkifthere’sanythingelse.”ThePrincelovedgivingorders,especiallythekindheknewwouldneverneedcarryingout.Also,Yellinwasaslowjotter,andthatonlyaddedtothefun.“Excused,”thePrincesaidfinally.

Withabow,Yellinwasgone.

“Thefourshipswereneversent,”Buttercupsaid,whentheywerealone.“Don’tbotherlyingtomeanymore.”

“Whateverwasdonewasdoneforyourowngood,sweetpudding.”

“Somehow,Idonotthinkso.”

“You’renervous,I’mnervous;we’regettingmarriedtomorrow,we’vegotarighttobe.”

“Youcouldn’tbemorewrong,youknow;I’mverycalm.”Andintruth,shedidseemthatway.“Itdoesn’tmatterwhetheryousenttheshipsornot.Westleywillcomeforme.ThereisaGod;Iknowthat.Andthereislove;Iknowthattoo;so

Westleywillsaveme.”

“You’reasillygirl,nowgotoyourroom.”

“Yes,Iamasillygirland,yesagain,Iwillgotomyroom,andyouareacowardwithaheartfilledwithnothingbutfear.”

ThePrincehadtolaugh.“ThegreatesthunterintheworldandyousayIamacoward?”

“Ido,Idoindeed.I’mgettingmuchsmarterasIage.Isayyouareacowardandyouare;Ithinkyouhuntonlytoreassureyourselfthatyouarenotwhatyouare:theweakestthingtoeverwalktheEarth.Hewillcomeformeandthenwewillbegone,andyouwillbehelplessforallyourhunting,becauseWestleyandIarejoinedbythebondofloveandyoucannottrackthat,notwithathousand

bloodhounds,andyoucannotbreakit,notwithathousandswords.”

Humperdinckscreamedtowardherthen,rippingatherautumnhair,yankingherfromherfeetanddownthelongcurvingcorridortoherroom,wherehetorethatdooropenandthrewherinsideandlockedherthereandstartedrunningfortheundergroundentrancetotheZooofDeath

—

Myfatherstoppedreading.‘Goon,’Isaid.

‘Lostmyplace,’hesaidandIwaitedthere,stillweakwithpneumoniaandwetwithfearuntilhestartedreadingagain.‘InigoallowedFezziktoopenthedoor—’‘Hey,’Isaid.‘Holdit,that’snotright,youskipped,’andthenIquick

caughtmytonguebecausewe’djusthadthatscenewhenIgotallupsetaboutButtercupmarryingHumperdinckwhenI’daccusedhimofskipping,andIdidn’twantanyrepeatofthat.‘Daddy,’Isaid,‘Idon’tmeananythingoranything,butwasn’tthePrincesortofrunningtowardtheZooandthenthenextthingyousaidwasaboutInigo,andmaybe,Imean,shouldn’ttherebea

pageorlikethatinbetween?’

Myfatherstartedtoclosethebook.

‘I’mnotfighting;please,don’tcloseit.’

‘Itisnotforthat,’hesaid,andthenhelookedatmeforalongtime.‘Billy,’hesaid(healmostnevercalledmethat;Iloveditwhenhedid;anybodyelseIhatedit,but

whenthebarberdidit,Idon’tknow,Ijustmelted),‘Billy,doyoutrustme?’

‘Whatisthat?OfcourseIdo.’

‘Billy,yougotpneumonia;you’retakingthisbookveryserious,Iknow,becausewealreadyfoughtonceaboutit.’

‘I’mnotfightinganymore—’

‘Listentome—Ineverliedtoyouyet,didI?Okay.Trustme.Idon’twanttoreadyoutherestofthischapterandIwantyoutosayit’sallright.’

‘Why?Whathappensintherestofthischapter?’

‘IfItellyou,Icouldaccomplishthesamebyreading.Justsayokay.’

Ican’tsaythatuntilIknow

whathappens.’

‘But—’

‘TellmewhathappensandI’lltellyouifit’sokayandIpromiseifIdon’twanttohearit,youcanskipontoInigo.’

‘Butwon’tdomethisfavor?’

I’llsneakoutofbedwhenyou’reasleep;Idon’tcare

whereyouhidethebook,I’llfinditandI’llreadtherestofthechaptermyself,soyoumightaswelltellme.’

‘Billy,please?’

Igotcha;youmightaswelladmitit.’

Myfathersighedthisterriblesound.

IknewIhadhimbeatenthen.

‘Westleydies,’myfathersaid.

Isaid,‘Whatdoyoumean,“Westleydies”?Youmeandies?’

Myfathernodded.‘PrinceHumperdinckkillshim.’

‘He’sonlyfakingthough,right?’

Myfathershookhishead,

closedthebookalltheway.

‘Awshit,’IsaidandIstartedtocry.

‘I’msorry,’myfathersaid.I’llleaveyoualone,’andheleftme.

‘WhogetsHumperdinck?’Iscreamedafterhim.

Hestoppedinthehall.Idon’tunderstand.’

‘WhokillsPrinceHumperdinck?Attheend,somebody’sgottogethim.IsitFezzik?Who?’

‘Nobodykillshim.Helives.’

‘Youmeanhewins,Daddy?Jesus,whatdidyoureadmethisthingfor?’andIburiedmyheadinmypillowandInevercriedlikethatagain,notoncetothisday.Icouldfeelalmostmyheart

emptyingintomypillow.Iguessthemostamazingthingaboutcryingthoughisthatwhenyou’reinit,youthinkit’llgoonforeverbutitneverreallylastshalfwhatyouthink.Notintermsofrealtime.Intermsofrealemotions,it’sworsethanyouthink,butnotbytheclock.Whenmyfathercameback,itcouldn’thavebeenevenanhourlater.

‘So,’hesaid,‘shallwegoontonightornot?’

‘Shoot,’Itoldhim.Eyesdry,nocatchinthroat,nothing.‘Firewhenready.’

‘WithInigo?’

‘Let’shearthemurder,’Isaid.IknewIwasn’tabouttobawlagain.LikeButtercup’s,myheartwasnowasecretgardenandthewallswere

veryhigh.

Humperdinckscreamedtowardherthen,rippingatherautumnhair,yankingherfromherfeetanddownthelongcurvingcorridortoherroom,wherehetorethatdooropenandthrewherinsideandlockedherthereandstartedrunningfortheundergroundentrancetotheZooofDeathanddownheplunged,giant

strideaftergiantstride,andwhenhethrewthedoorofthefifth-levelcageopen,evenCountRugenwasstartledatthepurityofwhatevertheemotionwasthatwasreflectedinthePrince’seyes.ThePrincemovedtoWestley.“Shelovesyou,”thePrincecried.“Shelovesyoustillandyouloveher,sothinkofthat—thinkofthistoo:inallthisworld,youmighthavebeenhappy,

genuinelyhappy.Notonecoupleinacenturyhasthatchance,notreally,nomatterwhatthestorybookssay,butyoucouldhavehadit,andso,Iwouldthink,noonewilleversufferalossasgreatasyou”andwiththathegrabbedthedialandpusheditallthewayforwardandtheCountcried,“Nottotwenty!”butbythenitwastoolate;thedeathscreamhadstarted.

Itwasmuchworsethanthescreamofthewilddog.Inthefirstplace,thedialforthewilddoghadonlybeensetatsix,whereasthiswasmorethantriplethat.Andso,naturallyenough,itwasmorethanthreetimesaslong.Andmorethanthreetimesasloud.Butnoneofthisreallywaswhyitwasworse.

Itwasthescreamfromahumanthroatthatmadethe

difference.

Inherchamber,Buttercupheardit,anditfrightenedher,butshehadnottheleastideawhatitwas.

Bythemaindoorofthecastle,Yellinheardit,anditalsofrightenedhim,thoughhecouldn’timaginewhatitwaseither.

AllthehundredBrutesand

fightersflankedbythemaindoorheardittoo,and,toaman,theywerebotheredbyit,andtheytalkeditoverforquiteawhile,butnoneofthemhadanysoundnotionsastowhatitmighthavebeen.

TheGreatSquarewasfilledwithcommonpeopleexcitedaboutthecomingweddingandanniversary,andtheyallheardittoo,andnooneevenmadethepretenseofnot

beingscared,but,again,noneofthemknewatallwhatitmighthavebeen.

Thedeathscreamrosehigherinthenight.

AllthestreetsleadingintotheSquarewerealsofilledwithcitizens,alltryingtocrowdintotheSquare,andtheyheardit,butoncetheyadmittedtheywerepetrified,theygaveuptryingtoguess

whatitmighthavebeen.

Inigoknewimmediately.

InthetinyalleythatheandFezzikweretryingtoforcetheirwaythrough,hestopped,remembering.ThealleyledtothestreetsthatledtotheSquare,andthealleywasjammedtoo.

“Idon’tlikethatsound,”Fezziksaid,hisskin,forthe

moment,cold.

Inigograbbedthegiantandthewordsbeganpouringout:“Fezzik—Fezzik—thatisthesoundofUltimateSuffering—Iknowthatsound—thatwasthesoundinmyheartwhenCountRugenslaughteredmyfatherandIsawhimfall—themaninblackmakesitnow—”

“Youthinkthat’shim?”

“WhoelsehascauseforUltimateSufferingthiscelebrationnight?”Andwiththat,hestartedtofollowthesound.

Butthecrowdswereinhisway,andhewasstrongbuthewasthinandhecried,“Fezzik—Fezzik—wemusttrackthatsound,wemusttraceittoitssource,andIcannotmove,soyoumustleadme.Fly,Fezzik;thisis

Inigobeggingyou—makeapath—please!”

Well,Fezzikhadrarelyhadanyonebeghimforanything,leastofallInigo,andwhensomethinglikethathappened,youdidwhatyoucould,soFezzik,withoutwaiting,begantopush.Forward.Lotsofpeople.Fezzikpushedharder.Lotsofpeoplebegantomove.OutofFezzik’sway.Fast.

Thedeathscreamwasstartingtofadenow,fadingintheclouds.

“Fezzik!”saidInigo.“Allyourpower,NOW.”

DownthealleyFezzikran,peoplescreaminganddivingtogetoutofhisway,andinhisfootstepsInigokeptpace,andattheendofthealleywasastreetandthescreamwasfainternowbutFezzik

turnedleftandintothemiddleofthestreethewentandheownedit,noonewasinhisway,nothingdaredblockhisway,andthescreamwasgettingjustsohardtohear,sowithallhismightFezzikroared,“QUIET!”andthestreetwassuddenlyhushedandFezzikpoundedalong,Inigorightbehind,andthescreamwasstillthere,stillfaintlythere,andintotheGreatSquareitselfandthe

castlebeyondbeforethescreamwasgone....

WestleylaydeadbytheMachine.ThePrincekeptthedialbythetwentymarklonglongafteritwasnecessary,untiltheCountsaid,“Done.”

ThePrinceleftwithoutanotherlookatWestley.Hetookthesecretundergroundstairsfouratatime.“She

actuallycalledmeacoward,”hesaid,andthenhewasgonefromsight.

CountRugenstartedtakingnotes.Thenhethrewhisquillpendown.HetestedWestleybriefly,thenheshookhishead.Deathwasnotofanyintellectualinteresttohimatall;whenyouweredead,youcouldn’treacttopain.TheCountsaid,“Disposeofthebody,”because,eventhough

hecouldn’tseethealbino,heknewthealbinowasthere.Itwasreallyashame,herealizedashemountedthestairsafterthePrince.Youjustdidn’tcomeacrossvictimslikeWestleyeverydayoftheyear.

Whentheyweregone,thealbinocameout,pulledthecupsfromthecorpse,decidedtoburnthebodyonthegarbagepyrebackbehindthe

castle.Whichmeantawheelbarrow.Hehurrieduptheundergroundstairs,cameoutthesecretentrance,movedquicklytothemaintoolshed;allthewheelbarrowswereburiedbackattherearwall,behindthehoesandrakesandhedgetrimmers.Thealbinomadeahissingsoundofdispleasureandbegantopickhiswaypastalltheotherequipment.Thiskindofthingalways

seemedtohappentohimwhenhewasinahurry.Thealbinohissedagain,extrawork,extrawork,allthetime.Wouldn’tyoujustknowit?

HefinallygotthebarrowoutandwasjustpassingthefalseanddeadlysupposedmainentrancetotheZoowhen“I’mhavingthedevil’sowntroubletrackingthatscream”wasspokentohim,andthe

albinowhirledtofind,there,thereinthecastlegrounds,ablade-thinstrangerwithaswordinhishand.Theswordsuddenlyflickeditswaytothealbino’sthroat.“Whereisthemaninblack?”theswordsmansaidthen.Hehadagiantscarslantingdowneachcheekandseemedlikenoonetotriflewith.

Whispered:“Iknownomaninblack.”

“Didthescreamcomefromthatplace?”Thefellowindicatedthemainentrance.

Nod.

“Andthethroatitcamefrom?Ineedthisman,sobequick!”

Whispered:“Westley.”

Inigoreasoned:“Asailor?BroughtherebyRugen?”

Nod.

“AndIreachhimwhere?”

Thealbinohesitated,thenpointedtothedeadlyentrance.Whispered:“Heisonthebottomlevel.Fivelevelsdown.”

“ThenIhavenomoreneedforyou.Quiethimawhile,Fezzik.”

Frombehindhim,thealbinowasawareofagiantshadowmoving.Funny,hethought—thelastthingheremembered—Ithoughtthatwasatree.

Inigowasonfirenow.Therewasnostoppinghim.Fezzikhesitatedbythemaindoor.“Whywouldhetellthetruth?”

“He’sazookeeperthreatenedwithdeath.Whywouldhe

lie?”

“Thatdoesn’tfollow.”

“Idon’tcare!”Inigosaidsharply,and,infact,hedidn’t.Heknewinhisheartthemaninblackwasdownthere.TherewasnootherreasonforFezziktofindhim,forFezziktoknowofRugen,foreverythingtobecomingtogetheraftersomanyyearsofwaiting.Iftherewasa

God,thentherewasamaninblackwaiting.Inigoknewthat.Heknewit.And,ofcourse,hewasabsolutelyright.Butagain,ofcourse,thereweremanythingshedidnotknow.Thatthemaninblackwasdead,forone.Thattheentrancetheyweretakingwasthewrongone,foranother,afalseone,setuptofoilthose,likehimself,whodidnotbelong.Therewerespittingcobrasdownthere,

thoughwhatwouldactuallycomeathimwouldbeworse.Thesethingshedidnotknoweither.

Buthisfatherhadtoberevenged.Andthemaninblackwouldfigureouthow.ThatwasenoughforInigo.

Andso,withanurgencythatwouldsoonturntodeepregret,heandFezzikapproachedtheZooofDeath.

Seven - THEWEDDING

InigoallowedFezziktoopenthedoor,notbecausehewishedtohidebehindthegiant’sstrengthbut,rather,becausethegiant’sstrengthwascrucialtotheirentering:someonewouldhavetoforce

thethickdoorfromitshinges,andthatwasrightupFezzik’salley.

“It’sopen,”Fezziksaid,simplyturningtheknob,peeringinside.

“Open?”Inigohesitated.“Closeitthen.Theremustbesomethingwrong.WhywouldsomethingasvaluableasthePrince’sprivatezoobeleftunlocked?”

“Itsmellsofanimalssomethingawfulinthere,”Fezziksaid.“DidIgetawhiff!”

“Letmethink,”Inigosaid;“I’llfigureitout,”andhetriedtodohisbest,butitmadenosense.Youdidn’tleavediamondslyingaroundonthebreakfasttableandyoukepttheZooofDeathshutandbolted.Sotherehadtobeareason;itwasjustamatter

ofexercisingyourbrainpowerandtheanswerwouldbethere.(Theanswertowhythedoorhappenedtobeunlockedwasreallythis:itwasalwaysunlocked.Andthereasonforthatwasreallythis:safety.Noonewhohadenteredviathefrontdoorhadeversurvivedtoexitagain.TheideabasicallybelongedtoCountRugen,whohelpedthePrincearchitecttheplace.ThePrinceselectedthe

location—thefarthestcornerofthecastlegrounds,awayfromeverything,sotheroarswouldn’tbothertheservants—buttheCountdesignedtheentrance.Therealentrancewasbyagianttree,wherearootliftedandrevealedastaircaseanddownyouwentuntilyouarrivedatthefifthlevel.Thefalseentrance,calledtherealentrance,tookyoudownthelevelstheordinaryway,firsttosecond,

secondtothird,or,actually,secondtodeath.)

“Yes,”Inigosaidfinally.

“Youfigureditout?”

“Thereasonthedoorwasunlockedissimplythis:thealbinowouldhavelockedit,hewouldneverhavebeensostupidasnotto,but,Fezzik,myfriend,wegottohimbeforehegottoit.Clearly,

oncehewasdonewithhiswheelbarrowing,hewouldhavebegunlockingandbolting.It’squiteallright;youcanstopworrying;let’sgo.”

“Ijustfeelsosafewithyou,”Fezziksaid,andhepulledthedooropenasecondtime.Ashedidit,henoticedthatnotonlywasthedoorunlocked,itdidn’tevenhaveaplaceforalock,andhewondered

shouldhementionthattoInigo,butdecidedagainstit,becauseInigowouldhavetowaitandfiguresomemoreandtheyhaddoneenoughofthatalready,because,althoughhesaidhefeltsafewithInigo,intruthhewasveryfrightened.Hehadheardoddthingsaboutthisplace,andlionsdidn’tbotherhim,andwhocaredaboutgorillas;theywerenothing.Itwasthecreepersthatmadehim

squeamish.Andtheslitherers.Andthestingers.Andthe...andtheeverything,Fezzikdecided,tobetruthfulandhonest.Spidersandsnakesandbugsandbatsandyounameit—hejustwasn’tveryfondofanyofthem.“Stillsmellsofanimals,”hesaid,andheheldthedooropenforInigo,andtogether,strideforstride,theyenteredtheZooofDeath,thegreatdoorshuttingsilentlybehindthem.

“Quiteabizarreplace,”Inigosaid,movingpastseverallargecagesinwhichwerecheetahsandhummingbirdsandotherswiftthings.Attheendofthehallwasanotherdoorwithasignaboveitsaying,“ToLevelTwo.”Theyopenedthatdoorandsawaflightofstairsleadingverysteeplydown.“Careful,”Inigosaid;“stayclosetomeandwatchyourbalance.”

Theystarteddowntowardthesecondlevel.

“IfItellyousomething,willyoupromisenottolaughatmeormockmeorbemeantome?”Fezzikasked.

“Myword,”Inigonodded.

“I’mjustscaredtopieces,”Fezziksaid.

“Besureitceases,”Inigosaid

rightback.

“Oh,that’sawonderfulrhyme—”

“Someothertime,”Inigosaid,makinganother,feelingquitebrightaboutthewholething,sensingthepleasureinhavingFezzikvisiblyrelaxastheydescended,sohesmiledandclappedFezzikonhisgreatshoulderforthegoodfellowhewas.Butdeep,deep

inside,Inigo’sstomachwasknotting.Hewasabsolutelyappalledandastonishedthatamanofunlimitedstrengthandpowerwouldbescaredtopieces;untilFezzikspoke,Inigowaspositivethathewastheonlyonewhowasgenuinelyscaredtopieces,andthefactthattheybothweredidnotbodewellifpanictimecame.Someonewouldhavetokeephiswits,andhehadassumed

automaticallythatsinceFezzikhadsofew,hewouldfindretainingthemnotallthatdifficult.Nogood,Inigorealized.Well,hewouldsimplyhavetodohisbesttoavoidpanicsituationsandthatwasthat.

Thestaircasewasstraight,andverylong,buteventuallytheyreachedtheendofit.Anotherdoor.Fezzikgaveitapush.Itopened.Another

corridorlinedwithcages,bigonesthough,andinside,greatbayinghipposandatwenty-footalligatorthrashingangrilyinshallowwater.

“Wemusthurry,”Inigosaid,pickingupthepace;“muchaswemightliketodawdle,”andhehalfrantowardasignthatsaid,“ToLevelThree.”InigoopenedthedoorandlookeddownandFezzikpeeredoverhisshoulder.“Hmmm,”Inigo

said.

Thisstaircasewasdifferent.Itwasnotnearlyassteep,anditcurvedhalfway,sothatwhateverwasnearthebottomofitwasquiteoutofsightastheystoodatthetoppreparingtogodown.Therewerestrangecandlesburninghighonthewallsoutofreach.Theshadowstheymadewereverylongandverythin.

“Well,I’mcertainlygladIwasn’tbroughtuphere,”Inigosaid,tryingforajoke.

“Fear,”Fezziksaid,therhymeoutbeforehecouldstopit.

Inigoexploded.“Really!Ifyoucan’tmaintaincontrol,I’mgoingtosendyourightbackupandyoucanjustwaitthereallbyyourself.”

“Don’tleaveme;Imean,don’tmakemeleaveyou.Please.Imeanttosay‘beer’;Idon’tknowhowthefgotinthere.”

“I’mreallylosingpatiencewithyou;comealong,”Inigosaid,andhestarteddownthecurvingstairs,Fezzikfollowing,andasthedoorclosedbehindthem,twothingshappened:

(1)Thedoor,quiteclearly,locked.

(2)Outwentthecandlesonthehighwalls.“DON’TBEFRIGHTENED!”Inigoscreamed.

“I’MNOT,I’MNOT!”Fezzikscreamedrightback.Andthen,abovehisheartbeat,hemanaged,“Whatarewegoingtodo?”

“S-s-s-simple,”saidInigoafterawhile.

“Areyoufrightenedtoo?”askedFezzikinthedarkness.

“Not...remotely,”Inigosaidwithgreatcare.“Andbefore,Imeanttosay‘easy’;Idon’tknowhowthe‘s-s-s-s-’gotinthere.Look:wecan’tgobackandwecertainlydon’twanttostayhere,sowejustmustkeepon

goingaswewerebeforetheselittlethingshappened.Down.Downisourdirection,Fezzik,butIcantellyou’reabitedgyaboutallthis,so,outofthegoodnessofmyheart,Iwillletyouwalkdownnotbehindme,andnotinfrontofme,butrightnexttome,onthesamestep,strideforstride,andyouputanarmaroundmyshoulder,becausethatwillprobablymakeyoufeelbetter,andI,soasnotto

makeyoufeelfoolish,willputanarmaroundyourshoulder,andthus,safe,protected,together,wewilldescend.”

“Willyoudrawyourswordwithyourfreehand?”

“Ialreadyhave.Willyoumakeafistwithyours?”

“It’sclenched.”

“Thenlet’slookonthebrightside:we’rehavinganadventure,Fezzik,andmostpeopleliveanddiewithoutbeingasluckyasweare.”

Theymoveddownonestep.Thenanother.Thentwo,thenthree,astheygotthehangofit.

“Whydoyouthinktheylockedthedoorbehindus?”Fezzikaskedastheymoved.

“Toaddspicetoourtrip,Isuspect,”repliedInigo.Itwascertainlyoneofhisweakeranswers,butthebesthecouldcomeupwith.

“Here’swheretheturnstarts,”saidFezzik,andtheyslowed,makingthesharpturnwithoutstumbling,continuingondown.“Andtheytookawaythecandlesforthesamereason—spice?”

“Mostlikely.Don’tsqueezemequitesohard—”

“Don’tyousqueezemequitesohard—”

Bythentheyknewtheywereforit.

Therehasbeen,formanyyears,arunningbattleamongjunglezoologistsastojustwhichofthegiantsnakesisthebiggest.Theanaconda

menareforevertrumpetingtheOrinocospecimenthatweighedwelloverfivehundredpounds,whilethepythonpeopleneverfailtoreplybypointingoutthattheAfricanRockfoundoutsideZambesimeasuredthirty-fourfeet,seveninches.Theargument,ofcourse,issilly,because“biggest”isavagueword,havingnovaluewhateverinarguments,ifoneisserious.

Butanyserioussnakeenthusiastwouldadmit,whateverhisschooling,thattheArabianGarstini,thoughshorterthanthepythonandlighterthantheanacondawasquickerandmoreravenousthaneither,andthisspecimenofPrinceHumperdinck’swasnotonlyremarkableforitsspeedandagility,itwasalsokeptinapermanentstatejustvergingontheoutskirtsofstarvation,sothefirstcoil

camelikelightningasitdroppedfromabovethemandpinionedtheirhandssothefistandswordwereuselessandthesecondcoilimprisonedtheirarmsand“Dosomething—”Inigocried.

“Ican’t—I’mcaught—youdosomething—”

“Fightit,Fezzik—”

“It’stoostrongforme—”

“Nothingistoostrongforyou—”

Thethirdcoilwasdonenow,aroundtheuppershoulders,andthefourthcoil,thefinalcoil,involvedthethroat,andInigowhisperedinterror,becausehecouldhearthebeast’sbreathingnow,couldactuallyfeelitsbreath,“Fightit...I’m...I’m...”

Fezziktrembledwithfearandwhispered,“Forgiveme,Inigo.”

“Oh,Fezzik...Fezzik...”

“What...?”

“Ihadsuchrhymesforyou....”

“Whatrhymes?...”

Silence.

Thefourthcoilwasfinished.

“Inigo,whatrhymes?”

Silence.

Snakebreath.

“Inigo,IwanttoknowtherhymesbeforeIdie—Inigo,Ireallywanttoknow—Inigo,tellmetherhymes,”Fezziksaid,andbynowhewasveryfrustratedand,morethanthat,

hewasspectacularlyangryandonearmcameclearofonecoilandthatmadeitabitlessofachoretofightfreeofthesecondcoilandthatmeanthecouldtakethatarmandbringittotheaidoftheotherarmandnowhewasyellingitout,”You’renotgoinganywhereuntilIknowthoserhymes”andthesoundofhisownvoicewasreallyveryimpressive,deepandresonant,andwhowasthis

snakeanyway,gettinginthepathofFezzikwhentherewererhymestolearn,andbythistimenotonlywerebotharmsfreeofthebottomthreecoilsbuthewasfuriousattheinterruptionandhishandsgrabbedtowardthesnakebreath,andhedidn’tknowifsnakeshadnecksornotbutwhateveritwasthatyoucalledthepartthatwasunderitsmouth,thatwastheparthehadbetweenhisgreathands

andhegaveitasmashagainstthewallandthesnakehissedandspitbutthefourthcoilwaslooser,soFezziksmasheditagainandathirdtimeandthenhebroughthishandsbackabitforleverageandhebegantowhipthebeastagainstthewallslikeanativewasherwomanbeatingaskirtagainstrocks,andwhenthesnakewasdead,Inigosaid,“Actually,Ihadnospecificrhymesinmind;I

justhadtodosomethingtogetyouintoaction.”

Fezzikwaspantingterriblyfromhislabors.“Youliedtomeiswhatyou’resaying.Myonlyfriendinallmylifeturnsouttobealiar.”Hestartedtrompingdownthestairs,Inigostumblingafterhim.

Fezzikreachedthedooratthebottomandthrewitopenandslammedit,withInigojust

managingtoslipinsidebeforethedoorcrashedshut.

Itlockedimmediately.

Attheendofthiscorridor,the“ToLevelFour”signwasclearlyvisible,andFezzikhurriedtowardit.Inigopursuedhim,hurryingpastthepoisoners,thespittingcobrasandGaboonvipersand,perhapsmostquicklylethalofall,thelovely

tropicalstonefishfromtheoceanoutsideIndia.

“Iapologize,”Inigosaid.“Onelieinalltheseyears,that’snotsuchaterribleaveragewhenyouconsideritsavedourlives.”

“There’ssuchathingasprinciple”wasallFezzikwouldanswer,andheopenedthedoorthatledtothefourthlevel.“Myfathermademe

promisenevertolie,andnotonceinmylifehaveIevenbeentempted,”andhestarteddownthestairs.

“Stop!”Inigosaid.“Atleastexaminewherewe’regoing.”

Itwasastraightstaircase,butcompletelydark.Theopeningatthefarendwasinvisible.“Itcan’tbeasbadaswherewe’vebeen,”Fezziksnapped,anddownhewent.

Inaway,hewasright.ForInigo,batswerenevertheultimatenightmare.Oh,hewasafraidofthem,likeeverybodyelse,andhewouldrunandscreamiftheycamenear;inhismind,though,hellwasnotbat-infested.ButFezzikwasaTurkishboy,andpeopleclaimthefruitbatfromIndonesiaisthebiggestintheworld;trytellingthattoaTurksometime.Trytellingthattoanyonewhohasheard

hismotherscream,”Herecomethekingbats!”followedbythepoisonousflutteringofwings.

“HERECOMETHEKINGBATS!”Fezzikscreamed,andhewas,quiteliterally,ashestoodhalfwaydownthedarksteps,paralyzedwithfear,andbehindhimnow,doinghisbesttofightthedarkness,cameInigo,andhehadneverheardthattone

before,notfromFezzik,andInigodidn’twantbatsinhishaireither,butitwasn’tworththatkindoffright,sohestartedtosay“What’ssoterribleaboutkingbats”but“What”wasallhehadtimeforbeforeFezzikcried,“Rabies!Rabies!”andthatwasallInigoneededtoknow,andheyelled,“Down,Fezzik,”andFezzikstillcouldn’tmove,soInigofeltforhiminthedarknessasthe

flutteringgrewlouderandwithallhisstrengthheslammedthegiantontheshoulderhollering”Down”andthistimeFezzikwenttohiskneesobediently,butthatwasn’tenough,notnearly,soInigoslammedhimagaincrying,“Flat,flat,allthewaydown,”untilFezziklayontheblackstairsshakingandInigokneltabovehim,thegreatsix-fingeredswordflyingintohishands,andthis

wasit,thiswasatesttoseehowfardowntheninetydaysofbrandyhadtakenhim,howmuchofthegreatInigoMontoyaremained,for,yes,hehadstudiedfencing,true,hehadspenthalfhislifeandmorelearningtheAgrippaattackandtheBonettidefenseandofcoursehehadstudiedhisThibault,buthehadalso,onedesperatetime,spentasummerwiththeonlyScotwhoeverunderstoodswords,

thecrippledMacPherson,anditwasMacPhersonwhoscoffedateverythingInigoknew,itwasMacPhersonwhosaid,“Thibault,Thibaultisfineifyoufightinaballroom,butwhatifyoumeetyourenemyonterrainthatistiltedandyouarebelowhim,”andforaweek,Inigostudiedallthemovesfrombelow,andthenMacPhersonputhimonahillintheupperposition,and

whenthosemovesweremastered,MacPhersonkeptrighton,forhewasacripple,hislegsstoppedattheknee,andsohehadaspecialfeelforadversity.“Andwhatifyourenemyblindsyou?”MacPhersononcesaid.“Hethrowsacidinyoureyesandnowhedrivesinforthekill;whatdoyoudo?Tellmethat,Spaniard,survivethat,Spaniard.“Andnow,waitingforthechargeoftheking

bats,InigoflunghismindbacktowardtheMacPhersonmoves,andyouhadtodependonyourears,youfoundhisheartfromhissounds,andnow,ashewaited,abovehimInigocouldfeelthekingbatsmassing,whilebelowhimFezziktrembledlikeakittenincoldwater.

“Bestill!”Inigocommanded,andthatwasthelastsoundhe

made,becauseheneededhisearsnow,andhetiltedhisheadtowardtheflutter,thegreatswordfirminhisrighthand,thedeadlypointcirclingslowlyintheair.Inigohadneverseenakingbat,knewnothingofthem;howfastwerethey,howdidtheycomeatyou,atwhatangle,andhowmanymadeeachcharge?Theflutterwasdeadabovehimnow,tenfeetperhaps,perhapsmore,and

couldbatsseeinthenight?Didtheyhavethatweapontoo?“Comeon!”Inigowasabouttosay,buttherewasnoneed,becausewitharushofwingshehadexpectedandahighlongshriekhehadnot,thefirstkingbatswoopeddownathim.

Inigowaited,waited,theflutterwasofftotheleft,andthatwaswrong,becauseheknewwherehewasandso

didthebeasts,sothatmeanttheymusthavebeenpreparingsomethingforhim,acut,asuddenturn,andwithallcontrollefttohisbrainhekepthisswordjustasitwas,circlingslowly,notfollowingthesounduntiltheflutteringstoppedandthekingbatveeredinsilencetowardInigo’sface.

Thesix-fingeredsworddrovethroughlikebutter.

Thedeathsoundofthekingbatwasclosetohuman,onlyabithigherpitchedandshorter,andInigowasonlybrieflyinterestedbecausenowtherewasadoubleflutter;theywerecomingathimfromtwosidesandoneright,oneleft,andMacPhersontoldhimalwaysmovefromstrengthtoweakness,soInigostabbedfirsttotheright,thendroveleft,andtwomorealmost

humansoundscameandwent.Theswordwasheavynow,threedeadbeastschangedthebalance,andInigowantedtocleartheweapon,butnowanotherflutter,asingleone,andnoveeringthistime,straightanddeadlyforhisfaceandheduckedandwaslucky;theswordmovedupandintotheheartofthelethalthingandnowtherewerefourskeweredontheswordof

legend,andInigoknewhewasnotabouttolosethisfightandfromhisthroatcamethewords,“IamInigoMontoyaandstilltheWizard;comeforme,”andwhenheheardthreeofthemfluttering,hewishedhehadbeenjustabitmoremodestbutitwastoolateforthat,soheneededsurprise,andhetookit,shiftingpositionagainstthebeasts,standingstraight,takingtheirdiveslongbefore

theyexpectedit,andnowthereweresevenkingbatsandhisswordwascompletelyoutofbalanceandthatwouldhavebeenabadthing,adangerousthing,exceptforoneimportantaspect:therewassilencenowinthedarkness.Theflutteringwasdone.

“Somegiantyouare,”Inigosaidthen,andhesteppedoverFezzikandhurrieddownthe

restofthedarkenedstairs.

Fezzikgotupandlumberedafterhim,saying,“Inigo,listen,Imadeamistakebefore,youdidn’tlietome,youtrickedme,andfatheralwayssaidtrickingwasfine,soI’mnotmadatyouanymore,andisthatallrightwithyou?It’sallrightwithme.”

Theyturnedtheknobonthedooratthebottomofthe

blackstairsandsteppedontothefourthlevel.

Inigolookedathim.“Youmeanyou’llforgivemecompletelyforsavingyourlifeifIcompletelyforgiveyouforsavingmine?”

“You’remyfriend,myonlyone.”

“Pathetic,that’swhatweare,”Inigosaid.

“Athletic.”

“That’sverygood,”Inigosaid,soFezzikknewtheywerefineagain.Theystartedtowardthesignthatsaid,“ToLevelFive,”passingstrangecages.“Thisistheworstyet,”Inigosaid,andthenhejumpedback,becausebehindapaleglasscase,abloodeaglewasactuallyeatingwhatlookedlikeanarm.Andontheothersidetherewasa

greatblackpool,andwhateverwasinitwasdarkandmanyarmedandthewaterseemedtogetsuckedtowardthecenterofthepoolwherethemouthofthethingwas.“Hurry,”Inigosaid,andhefoundhimselftremblingatthethoughtofbeingdroppedintotheblackpool.

Theyopenedthedoorandlookeddowntowardthefifthlevel.

Stunning.

Inthefirstplace,thedoortheyopenedhadnolock,soitcouldnottrapthem.Andinthesecondplacethestairswereallbrightlylit.Andinthethirdplacethestairswereabsolutelystraight.Andinthefourthplace,itwasn’talongflightatall.

Andinthemainplace,therewasnothinginside.Itwas

brightandcleanandtotally,withouttheleastdoubt,empty.

“Idon’tbelieveitforaminute,”Inigosaid,and,holdinghisswordattheready,hetookthefirststepdown.“Staybythedoor—thecandleswillgooutanysecond.”

Hetookasecondstepdown.

Thecandlesstayedbright.

Athirdstep.Thefourth.Therewereonlyaboutadozenstepsinall,andhetooktwomore,stoppinginthemiddle.Eachstepwasperhapsafootinwidth,sohewassixfeetfromFezzik,sixfeetfromthelarge,ornategreen-handleddoorthatopenedontothefinallevel.“Fezzik?”

Fromtheupperdoor:“What?”

“I’mfrightened.”

“Itlooksallrightthough.”

“No.It’ssupposedto;that’stofoolus.Whateverwe’vegottenbybefore,thismustbeworse.”

“Butthere’snothingtosee,Inigo.”

Inigonodded.“That’swhyI’msofrightened.”Hetookanotherstepdowntowardthefinal,ornategreen-handleddoor.Another.Fourstepstogo.Fourfeettogo.

Forty-eightinchesfromdeath.

Inigotookanotherstep.Hewastremblingnow;almostoutofcontrol.

“Whyareyoushaking?”Fezzikfromthetop.

“Deathishere.Deathishere.”Hetookanotherstepdown.

Twenty-fourinchestodying.

“CanIcomejoinyounow?”

Inigoshookhishead.“Nopointinyourdyingtoo.”

“Butit’sempty.”

“No.Deathishere.”Nowhewasoutofcontrol.“IfIcouldseeit,Icouldfightit.”

Fezzikdidn’tknowwhattodo.

“I’mInigoMontoyatheWizard;comeforme!”Heturnedaroundandaround,swordready,studyingthebrightlylitstaircase.

“Nowyou’rescaringme,”Fezziksaid,andheletthedoorclosebehindhimandstarteddownthestairs.

Inigostartedupafterhim,saying“No.”Theymetonthesixthstep.

Seventy-twoinchesfromdeathnow.

Thegreenspeckledreclusedoesn’tdestroyasquicklyas

thestonefish.Andmanythinkthemambabringsmoresuffering,whatwiththeulceratingandall.Butgramforgram,nothingintheuniversecomesclosetothegreenspeckledrecluse;amongotherspiders,comparedwiththegreenspeckledrecluse,theblackwidowwasaragdoll.PrinceHumperdinck’srecluselivedbehindtheornategreenhandleonthebottomdoor.

Sherarelymoved,unlessthehandleturned.Thenshestrucklikelightning.

Onthesixthstair,FezzikputhisarmaroundInigo’sshoulder.“We’llgodowntogether,stepbystep.There’snothinghere,Inigo.”

Tothefifthstep.“Therehastobe.”

“Why?”

“BecausethePrinceisafiend.AndRugenishistwininmisery.Andthisistheirmasterpiece.”Theymovedtothefourthstep.

“That’swonderfulthinking,Inigo,”Fezziksaid,loudandcalmly;but,inside,hewasstartingtogotopieces.Becauseherehewas,inthisnicebrightplace,andhisonefriendinalltheworldwascrackingfromthestrain.And

ifyouwereFezzik,andyouhadn’tmuchbrainpower,andyoufoundyourselffourstoriesundergroundinaZooofDeathlookingforamaninblackthatyoureallydidn’tthinkwasdownthere,andtheonlyfriendyouhadinalltheworldwasgoingquicklymad,whatdidyoudo?

Threestepsnow.

IfyouwereFezzik,you

panicked,becauseifInigowentmad,thatmeanttheleaderofthiswholeexpeditionwasyou,andifyouwereFezzik,youknewthelastthingintheworldyoucouldeverbewasaleader.SoFezzikdidwhathealwaysdidinapanicsituation.

Hebolted.

Hejustyelledandjumpedforthedoorandslammeditopen

withhisbody,neverevenbotheringwiththenicetiesofturningthatprettygreenhandle,andasthedoorgavebehindhisstrengthhekeptrightonrunninguntilhecametothegiantcageandthere,insideandstill,laythemaninblack.Fezzikstoppedthen,relievedgreatly,becauseseeingthatsilentbodymeantonething:Inigowasright,andifInigowasright,hecouldn’tbecrazy,

andifhewasn’tcrazy,thenFezzikdidn’thavetoleadanybodyanywhere.Andwhenthatthoughtreachedhisbrain,Fezziksmiled.

Inigo,forhispart,wasstartledatFezzik’sstrangebehavior.Hesawnoreasonforitwhatsoever,andwasabouttocallafterFezzikwhenhesawatinygreenspeckledspiderscurryingdownfromthedoorhandle,

sohesteppedonitwithhisbootashehurriedtothecage.

Fezzikwasalreadyinsidetheplace,kneelingoverthebody.

“Don’tsayit,”Inigosaid,entering.

Fezziktriednotto,butitwasonhisface.“Dead.”Inigoexaminedthebody.Hehadseenalotofcorpsesinhistime.“Dead.”Thenhesat

downmiserablyonthefloorandputhisarmsaroundhiskneesandrockedbackandforthlikeababy,backandforth,backandforthandback.

Itwastoounfair.Youexpectedunfairnessifyoubreathed,butthiswentbeyondthat.He,Inigo,nothinker,hadthought—hadn’thefoundthemaninblack?He,Inigo,frightenedof

beastsandcrawlersandanythingthatstung,hadbroughtthemdowntheZoounharmed.Hehadsaidgood-bytocautionandstretchedhimselffarbeyondanyboundariesheeverdreamedhepossessed.Andnow,aftersucheffort,afterbeingreunitedwithFezzikonthisdayofdaysforthisonepurpose,tofindthemantohelphimfindaplantohelphimrevengehisdead

Domingo—gone.Allwasgone.Hope?Gone.Future?Gone.Allthedrivingforcesofhislife.Gone.Snuffedout.Beaten.Dead.

“IamInigoMontoya,thesonofDomingoMontoya,andIdonotacceptit.”Hesprangtohisfeet,starteduptheundergroundstairs,stoppingonlylongenoughtosnapcommands.“Come,comealong.Bringthebody.”He

searchedthroughhispocketsforamoment,buttheywereempty,fromthebrandy.“Haveyougotanymoney,Fezzik?”

“Some.TheypaywellontheBruteSquad.”“WellIjusthopeit’senoughtobuyamiracle,that’sall.”

Whentheknockingstartedonhishutdoor,Maxalmost

didn’tanswerit.“Goaway,”healmostsaid,becauselatelyitwasonlykidscometomockhim.Exceptthiswasalittlepastthetimeforkidsbeingup—itwasalmostmidnight—andbesides,theknockingwasbothloudand,atthesametime,rat-a-tatty,asifthebrainwassayingtothefist,“Hurryitup;Iwanttoseealittleaction.”

SoMaxopenedthedoora

peek’sworth.“Idon’tknowyou.”

“Aren’tyouMiracleMaxthatworkedallthoseyearsfortheKing?”thisskinnyguysaid.

“Igotfired,didn’tyouhear?That’sapainfulsubject,youshouldn’thavebroughtitup,goodnight,nexttimelearnalittlemanners,”andheclosedthehutdoor.

Rat-a-tat—rat-a-tatt.

“Getaway,I’mtellingyou,orIcalltheBruteSquad.”

“I’montheBruteSquad,”thisothervoicesaidfromoutsidethedoor,abigdeepvoiceyouwantedtostayfriendlywith.

“Weneedamiracle;it’sveryimportant,”theskinnyguysaidfromoutside.

“I’mretired,”Maxsaid,“anyway,youwouldn’twantsomeonetheKinggotridof,wouldyou?Imightkillwhoeveryouwantmetomiracle.”

“He’salreadydead,”theskinnyguysaid.

“Heis,huh?”Maxsaid,alittleinterestinhisvoicenow.Heopenedthedoorapeek’sworthagain.“I’m

goodatdead.”

“Please,”theskinnyguysaid.

“Bringhimin.I’mmakingnopromises,”MiracleMaxansweredaftersomethought.

Thishugeguyandthisskinnyguybroughtinthisbigguyandputhimonthehutfloor.Maxpokedthecorpse.“Notsostiffassome,”hesaid.

Theskinnyguysaid,“Wehavemoney.”

“Thengogetsomegreatgeniusspecialist,whydon’tyou?Whywastetimemessingaroundwithme,aguywhotheKingfired.”Italmostkilledhimwhenithappened.Forthefirsttwoyears,hewishedithad.Histeethfelloutfromgnashing;hepulledthefewloyaltuftsfromhisscalpinwildanger.

“You’retheonlymiraclemanleftaliveinFlorin,”theskinnyguysaid.

“Oh,sothat’swhyyoucometome?Oneofyousaid,‘What’llwedowiththiscorpse?’Andtheotheronesaid,‘Let’stakeaflyeronthatmiraclemantheKingfired,’andthefirstoneprobablysaid,‘What’vewegottolose;hecan’tkillacorpse’andtheotherone

probablysaid—”

“Youwereawonderfulmiracleman,”theskinnyguysaid.“Itwasallpoliticsthatgotyoufired.”

“Don’tinsultmeandsaywonderful—Iwasgreat—Iamgreat—therewasnever—never,youhearme,sonny,amiraclemancouldmatchme—halfthemiracletechniquesIinvented—and

thentheyfiredme....”Suddenlyhisvoicetrailedoff.Hewasveryoldandweakandtheeffortatpassionatespeechhaddrainedhim.

“Sir,please,sitdown—”theskinnyguysaid.

“Don’t‘sir’me,sonny,”MiracleMaxsaid.Hewastoughwhenhewasyoungandhewasstilltough.“Igotworktodo.Iwasfeedingmy

witchwhenyoucamein;Igottofinishthatnow,”andheliftedthehuttrapdoorandtooktheladderdownintothecellar,lockingthetrapdoorbehindhim.Whenthatwasdone,heputhisfingertohislipsandrantotheoldwomancookinghotchocolateoverthecoals.MaxhadmarriedValeriebackamillionyearsago,itseemedlike,atMiracleSchool,wheresheworkedasapotionladler.Shewasn’t,of

course,awitch,butwhenMaxstartedpractice,everymiraclemanhadtohaveone,so,sinceValeriedidn’tmind,hecalledherawitchinpublicandshelearnedenoughofthewitchtradetopassherselfoffasoneunderpressure.“Listen!Listen!”Maxwhispered,gesturingrepeatedlytowardthehutabove.“Upstairsyou’llneverguesswhatIgot—agiantandaspick.”

“Agiantonastick?”Valeriesaid,clutchingherheart;herhearingwasn’twhatitoncewas.

“Spick!Spick!ASpanishfella.Scarsandeverything,averytoughcookie.”

“Letthemstealwhattheywant;whatdowehaveworthfightingover?”

“Theydon’twanttosteal,

theywanttobuy.Me.Theygotacorpseupthereandtheywantamiracle.”

“Youwerealwaysgoodatdead,”Valeriesaid.Shehadn’tseenhimtryingsohardnottoseemexcitedsincethefiringhadallbutdonehimin.Sheverycarefullykeptherownexcitementundercontrol.Ifonlyhewouldworkagain.HerMaxwassuchagenius,they’dall

comeback,everypatient.Maxwouldbehonoredagainandtheycouldmoveoutofthehut.Intheolddays,thehutwaswheretheytriedexperiments.Nowitwashome.“Youhadnothingelsepressingonfortheevening,whynottakethecase?”

“Icould,Iadmitthat,noquestion,butsupposeIdid?Youknowhumannature;they’dprobablytrygetting

outwithoutpaying.HowcanIforceagianttopayifhedoesn’twantto?Whoneedsthatkindagrief?I’llsendthemontheirwayandyoubringmeupanicecupofchocolate.Besides,Iwashalfwaythroughanarticleoneagles’clawsthatwasverywellwritten.”

“Getthemoneyinadvance.Go.Demand.Iftheysayno,outwiththem.Iftheysay

yes,bringthemoneydowntome,I’llfeedittothefrog,they’llneverfinditeveniftheychangetheirmindandtrytorobitback.”

Maxstartedbackuptheladder.“WhatshouldIaskfor?Ihaven’tdoneamiracle—it’swhat,threeyearsnow?Pricesmayhaveskyrocketed.Fifty,youthink?Iftheygotfifty,I’llconsider.Ifnot,outtheygo.”

“Right,”Valerieagreed,andtheminuteMaxhadshutthetrapdoor,sheclamberedsilentlyuptheladderandpressedhereartotheceiling.

“Sir,we’reinaterriblerush,so—”thisonevoicesaid.

“Don’tyouhurryme,sonny,youhurryamiracleman,yougetrottenmiracles,thatwhatyouwant?”

“You’lldoit,then?”

“Ididn’tsayI’ddoit,sonny,don’ttrypressuringamiracleman,notthisone;youtrypressuringme,outyougo,howmuchmoneyyougot?”

“GivemeyourmoneyFezzik?”thesamevoicesaidagain.

“Here’sallI’vegot,”thisgreatvoiceboomed.“You

countit,Inigo.”

Therewasapause.“Sixty-fiveiswhatwe’vegot,”theonecalledInigosaid.

ValeriewasabouttoclapherhandswithjoywhenMaxsaid,“Ineverworkedforanythingthatlittleinmylife;yougottobejoking,excusemeagain;Igottobelchmywitch;she’sdoneeatingbynow.”

ValeriehurriedbacktothecoalsandwaiteduntilMaxjoinedher.“Nogood,”hesaid.“Theyonlygottwenty.”

Valeriestirredawayatthestove.Sheknewthetruthbutdreadedhavingtosayit,soshetriedanothertack.“We’repracticallyoutofchocolatepowder;twentycouldsurebeahelpatthebarterer’stomorrow.”

“Nochocolatepowder?”Maxsaid,visiblyupset.Chocolatewasoneofhisfavorites,rightaftercoughdrops.

“Maybeifitwasagoodcauseyoucouldloweryourselftoworkfortwenty,”Valeriesaid.“Findoutwhytheyneedthemiracle.”

“They’dprobablylie.”

“Usethebellowscramif

you’reindoubt.Look:Iwouldhatetohaveitonmyconscienceifwedidn’tdoamiraclewhennicepeoplewereinvolved.”

“You’reapushylady,”Maxsaid,buthewentbackupstairs.“Okay,”hesaidtotheskinnyguy.“What’ssospecialIshouldbringbackoutofallthehundredsofpeoplepesteringmeeverydayformymiraclesthis

particularfella?And,believeme,itbetterbeworthwhile.”

Inigowasabouttosay“SohecantellmehowtokillCountRugen,”butthatdidn’tquitesoundlikethekindofthingthatwouldstrikeacrankymiraclemanasaidingthegeneralbettermentofmankind,sohesaid,“He’sgotawife,he’sgotfifteenkids,theyhaven’tashredoffood;ifhestaysdead,they’ll

starve,so—”

“Oh,sonny,areyoualiar,”Maxsaid,andhewenttothecornerandgotoutahugebellows.“I’llaskhim,”Maxgrunted,liftingthebellowstowardWestley.

“He’sacorpse;hecan’ttalk,”Inigosaid.

“Wegotourways”wasallMaxwouldanswer,andhe

stuckthehugebellowswaydownintoWestley’sthroatandstartedtopump.“Yousee,”Maxexplainedashepumped,“there’sdifferentkindsofdead:there’ssortofdead,mostlydead,andalldead.Thisfellahere,he’sonlysortofdead,whichmeansthere’sstillamemoryinside,there’sstillbitsofbrain.Youapplyalittlepressurehere,alittlemorethere,sometimesyouget

results.”

Westleywasbeginningtoswellslightlynowfromallthepumping.

“Whatareyoudoing?”Fezziksaid,startingtogetupset.

“Nevermind,I’mjustfillinghislungs;Iguaranteeyouitain’thurtinghim.”Hestoppedpumpingthebellows

afterafewmomentsmore,andthenstartedshoutingintoWestley’sear:“WHAT’SSOIMPORTANT?WHAT’SHEREWORTHCOMINGBACKFOR?WHATYOUGOTWAITINGFORYOU?”Maxcarriedthebellowsbacktothecornerthenandgotoutapenandpaper.“Ittakesawhileforthattoworkitswayout,soyoumightaswellanswermesomequestions.Howwelldo

youknowthisguy?”

Inigodidn’tmuchwanttoanswerthat,sinceitmighthavesoundedstrangeadmittingthey’donlymetoncealive,andthentodueltothedeath.“Howdoyoumeanexactly?”hereplied.

“Well,forexample,”Maxsaid,“washeticklishornot?”

“Ticklish?”Inigoexploded

angrily.”Ticklish!Lifeanddeathareallaroundandyoutalkticklish!”

“Don’tyouyellatme,”Maxexplodedrightback,“anddon’tyoumockmymethods—ticklingcanbeterrificintheproperinstances.Ihadacorpseonce,worsethanthisfella,mostlydeadhewas,andItickledhimandtickledhim;ItickledhistoesandItickledhisarmpitsandhisribsandI

gotapeacockfeatherandwentafterhisbellybutton;IworkedalldayandIworkedallnightandthefollowingdawn—thefollowingdawn,markme—thiscorpsesaid,‘Ijusthatethat,’andIsaid,‘Hatewhat?’andhesaid,‘Beingtickled;I’vecomeallthewaybackfromthedeadtoaskyoutostop,’andIsaid‘YoumeanthisthatI’mdoingnowwiththepeacockfeather,itbothersyou?’and

hesaid,‘Youcouldn’tguesshowmuchitbothersme,’andofcourseIjustkeptonaskinghimquestionsabouttickling,makinghimtalkbacktome,answerme,because,Idon’thavetotellyou,onceyougetacorpsereallycaughtupinconversation,yourbattle’shalfover.”

“Tr..ooooo...luv...”

FezzikgrabbedontoInigoin

panicandtheybothpivoted,staringatthemaninblack,whowassilentagain.”‘Truelove,’hesaid,”Inigocried.“Youheardhim—trueloveiswhathewantstocomebackfor.That’scertainlyworthwhile.”

“Sonny,don’tyoutellmewhat’sworthwhile—trueloveisthebestthingintheworld,exceptforcoughdrops.Everybodyknows

that.”

“Thenyou’llsavehim?”Fezziksaid.

“Yes,absolutely,Iwouldsavehim,ifhehadsaid‘truelove,’butyoumisheard,whereasI,beinganexpertonthebellowscram,willtellyouwhatanyqualifiedtonguemanwillonlybehappytoverify—namely,thatthefsoundisthehardestforthe

corpsetomaster,andthatitthereforecomesoutvuh,andwhatyourfriendsaidwas‘toblove,’bywhichhemeant,obviously,‘tobluff’—clearlyheiseitherinvolvedinashadybusinessdealoracardgameandwishestowin,andthatiscertainlynotreasonenoughforamiracle.I’msorry,Ineverchangemymindonceit’smadeup,good-by,takeyourcorpsewithyou.”

“Liar!Liar!”shriekedsuddenlyfromthenowopentrapdoor.

MiracleMaxwhirled.“Back,Witch—”hecommanded.

“I’mnotawitch,I’myourwife—”shewasadvancingonhimnow,anancienttinyfury—”andafterwhatyou’vejustdoneIdon’tthinkIwanttobethatanymore—”MiracleMaxtriedtocalmher

butshewashavingnoneofit.“Hesaid‘truelove,’Max

—evenIcouldhearit—’truelove,’‘truelove.’“

“Don’tgoon,”Maxsaid,andnowtherewaspleadingcomingfromsomewhere.

ValerieturnedtowardInigo.“Heisrejectingyoubecauseheisafraid—heisafraidhe’sdone,thatthemiraclesare

gonefromhisoncemajesticfingers—”

“Nottrue—”Maxsaid.

“You’reright,”Valerieagreed,“itisn’ttrue—theyneverweremajestic,Max—youwereneveranygood.”

“TheTicklishCure—youwerethere—yousaw—”

“Afluke—”

“AllthedrownersIreturned—”

“Chance—”

“Valerie,we’vebeenmarriedeightyyears;howcanyoudothistome?”

“Becausetrueloveisexpiringandyouhaven’tgotthedecencytotellwhyyouwon’thelp—wellIdo,andIsaythis,PrinceHumperdinck

wasrighttofireyou—”

“Don’tsaythatnameinmyhut,Valerie—youmadeapledgetomeyou’dneverbreathethatname—”

“PrinceHumperdinck,PrinceHumperdinck,PrinceHumperdinck—atleastheknowsaphonywhenheseesone—”

Maxfledtowardthetrap

door,hishandsgoingtohisears.

“Butthisishisfiancée’struelove,”Inigosaidthen.“Ifyoubringhimbacktolife,hewillstopPrinceHumperdinck’smarriage—”

Max’shandslefthisears.“Thiscorpsehere—hecomesbacktolife,PrinceHumperdincksuffers?”

“Humiliationsgalore,”Inigosaid.

“Nowthat’swhatIcallaworth-whilereason,”MiracleMaxsaid.“Givemethesixty-five;I’monthecase.”HekneltbesideWestley.“Hmmm,”hesaid.

“What?”Valeriesaid.Sheknewthattone.

“Whileyouweredoingall

thattalking,he’sslippedfromsortoftomostlydead.”

ValerietappedWestleyinacoupleofplaces.“Stiffening,”shesaid.“You’llhavetoworkaroundthat.”

Maxdidafewtapshimself.“Doyousupposetheoracle’sstillup?”

Valerielookedattheclock.“I

don’tthinkso,it’salmostone.Besides,Idon’ttrustherallthatmuchanymore.”

Maxnodded.“Iknow,butitwouldhavebeennicetohavealittleadvancehintonwhetherthisisgonnaworkornot.”Herubbedhiseyes.“I’mtiredgoingin;IwishI’dknowninadvanceaboutthejob;I’dhavenappedthisafternoon.”Heshrugged.

“Can’tbehelped,downisdown.GetmemyEncyclopediaofSpellsandtheHexAppendix.”

“Ithoughtyouknewallaboutthiskindofthing,”Inigosaid,startingtogetupsethimselfnow.

“I’moutofpractice,retired;it’sbeenthreeyears,youcan’tmessaroundwiththeseresurrectionrecipes;onelittle

ingredientwrong,thewholethingblowsupinyourface.”

“Here’sthehexbookandyourglasses,”Valeriepuffed,comingupthebasementladder.AsMaxbeganthumbingthrough,sheturnedtoInigoandFezzik,whowerehovering.“Youcanhelp,”shesaid.

“Anything,”Fezziksaid.

“Telluswhatever’suseful.Howlongdowehaveforthemiracle?Ifweworkit—”

“Whenweworkit,”Maxsaidfromhishexbook.Hisvoicewasgrowingstronger.

“Whenweworkit,”Valeriewenton,“howlongdoesithavetomaintainfullefficiency?Justexactlywhat’sgoingtobedone?”

“Well,that’shardtopredict,”Inigosaid,“sincethefirstthingwehavetodoisstormthecastle,andyounevercanbereallysurehowthosethingsworkout.”

“Anhourpillshouldbeaboutright,”Valeriesaid.“Eitherit’sgoingtobeplentyoryou’llbothbedead,sowhynotsayanhour?”

“We’llallthreebefighting,”

Inigocorrected.“Andthenoncewe’vestormedthecastlewehavetostopthewedding,stealthePrincessandmakeourescape,allowingspacesomewhereinthereformetoduelCountRugen.”

VisiblyValerie’senergydrained.Shesatwearilydown.“Max,”shesaid,tappinghisshoulder.“Nogood.”

Helookedup.“Huh?”

“Theyneedafightingcorpse.”

Maxshutthehexbook.“Nogood,”hesaid.

“ButIboughtamiracle,”Inigoinsisted.“Ipaidyousixty-five.”

“Lookhere—”ValeriethumpedWestley’schest

—”nothing.Youeverhearanythingsohollow?Theman’slife’sbeensuckedaway.It’lltakemonthsbeforethere’sstrengthagain.”

“Wehaven’tgotmonths—it’safteronenow,andthewedding’satsixtonight.Whatpartscanwehopetohaveinworkingorderinseventeenhours?”

“Well,”Maxsaid,

considering.“Certainlythetongue,absolutelythebrain,and,withluck,maybealittleslowwalkifyounudgehimgentlyintherightdirection.”

InigolookedatFezzikindespair.

“WhatcanItellyou?”Maxsaid.“Youneededafantasmagoria.”

“Andyounevercouldhave

gottenoneofthoseforsixty-five,”Valerieadded,consolingly.

Littlecuthere,twentypagesmaybe.Whathappensbasicallyisanalternationofscenes—what’sgoingoninthecastle,thenwhat’sthesituationwiththemiracleman,backandforth,andwitheveryshifthegivesthetime,sonof‘therewerenoweleven

hoursuntilsixo’clock,’thatkindofthing.Morgensternusesthedevice,mainly,becausewhathe’sreallyinterestedin,asalways,isthesatiricantiroyaltystuffandhowstupidtheyweregoingthroughwithalltheseoldtraditions,kissingthesacredringofGreat-grandfatherSo-and-So,etc.

ThereissomeactionstuffwhichIcut,whichIneverdid

anywhereelse,andhere’smylogic:InigoandFezzikhavetogothroughacertainamountofderring-doinordertocomeupwiththeproperingredientsfortheresurrectionpill,stufflikeInigofindingsomefrogdustwhileFezzikisoffafterholocaustmud,thislatter,forexample,requiring,first,Fezzik’sacquiringaholocaustcloaksohedoesn’tbumtodeathgatheringthe

mud,etc.Well,it’smyconvictionthatthisisthesamekindofthingastheWizardofOzsendingDorothy’sfriendstothewickedwitch’scastlefortherubyslippers;it’sgotthesame‘feel,’ifyouknowwhatImean,andIdidn’twanttorisk,whenthebook’sbuildingtoclimax,thereader’ssaying,‘Oh,thisisjustliketheOzbooks.’Here’sthekicker,though:

Morgenstern’sFlorineseversioncamebeforeBaumwroteTheWizardofOz,soinspiteofthefactthathewastheoriginator,hecomesoutjusttheotherwayaround.Itwouldbeniceifsomebody,maybeaPh.D.candidateontheloose,didalittlesomethingforMorgenstern’sreputation,because,believeme,ifbeingignoredissuffering,theguyhassuffered.

TheotherreasonImadethecutisthis:youjustknowthattheresurrectionpillhasgottowork.Youdon’tspendallthistimewithanuttycouplelikeMaxandValerietohaveitfail.Atleast,awhizlikeMorgensterndoesn’t.

Onelastthing:Hiram,myeditor,felttheMiracleMaxsectionwastooJewishinsound,toocontemporary.Ireallylethimhaveitonthat

one;it’saverysorepointwithme,because,justtotakeoneexample,therewasalineinButchCassidyandtheSundanceKidwhereButchsaid,‘Igotvisionandtherestoftheworldwearsbifocals,’andoneofmygeniusproducerssaid,‘Thatline’sgottogo;Idon’tputmynameonthismoviewiththatlineinit,’andIsaidwhyandhesaid,‘Theydidn’ttalklikethatthen;it’sanachronistic.’I

rememberexplaining,‘BenFranklinworebifocals—TyCobbwasbattingchampionoftheAmericanLeaguewhentheseguyswerearound—mymotherwasalivewhentheseguyswerealiveandsheworebifocals.’Weshookhandsandendedenemiesbutthelinestayedinthepicture.

Andsoherethepointis,ifMaxandValeriesound

Jewish,whyshouldn’tthey?YouthinkaguynamedSimonMorgensternwasIrishCatholic?Funnything—Morgenstern’sfolkswerenamedMaxandValerieandhisfatherwasadoctor.Lifeimitatingart,animitatinglife;Ireallygetthosetwoconfused,sortoflikeIcanneverrememberifclaretisBordeauxwineorBurgundy.Theybothtastegoodistheonlythingthatreallymatters,

Iguess,andsodoesMorgenstern,andwe’llpickitupagainlater,thirteenhourslater,tobeprecise,fourintheafternoon,twohoursbeforethewedding.

“Youmean,that’sit?”Inigosaid,appalled.

“That’sit,”Maxnoddedproudly.Hehadnotbeenupthislongastretchsincethe

olddays,andhefeltterrific.

Valeriewassoproud.“Beautiful,”shesaid.SheturnedtoInigothen.“Yousoundsodisappointed—whatdidyouthinkaresurrectionpilllookedlike?”

“Notlikealumpofclaythesizeofagolfball,”Inigoanswered.

(Meagain,lasttimethischapter:no,thatisnotanachronisticeither;thereweregolfballsinScotlandsevenhundredyearsago,and,notonlythat,rememberInigohadstudiedwithMacPhersontheScot.Asamatteroffact,everythingMorgensternwroteishistoricallyaccurate;readanydecentbookonFlorinesehistory.)

“Iusuallygivethemacoatingofchocolateatthelastminute;itmakesthemlookalotbetter,”Valeriesaid.

“Itmustbefouro’clock,”Maxsaidthen.“Bettergetthechocolateready,soit’llhavetimetoharden.”

Valerietookthelumpwithherandstarteddowntheladdertothekitchen.“Youneverdidabetterjob;smile.”

“It’llworkwithoutahitch?”Inigosaid.

Maxnoddedveryfirmly.Buthedidnotsmile.Therewassomethinginthebackofhismindbotheringhim;heneverforgotthings,notimportantthings,andhedidn’tforgetthiseither.

Hejustdidn’trememberitintime....

At4:45PrinceHumperdincksummonedYellintohischambers.Yellincameimmediately,thoughhedreadedwhatwas,heknew,abouttohappen.Asamatteroffact,Yellinalreadyhadhisresignationwrittenandinanenvelopeinhispocket.“YourHighness,”Yellinbegan.

“Report,”PrinceHumperdincksaid.Hewasdressedbrilliantlyinwhite,

hisweddingcostume.Hestilllookedlikeamightybarrel,butbrighter.

“Allofyourwisheshavebeencarriedout,Highness.PersonallyIhaveattendedtoeachdetail.”Hewasverytired,Yellinwas,andhisnerveslongpastfrayed.

“Specify,”saidthePrince.Hewasseventy-fiveminutesawayfromhisfirstfemale

murder,andhewonderedifhecouldgethisfingerstoherthroatbeforeeventhestartofascream.Hehadbeenpracticingongiantsausagesalltheafternoonandhadthemovementsdownprettypat,butthen,giantsausagesweren’tnecksandallthewishingintheworldwouldn’tmakethemso.

“Allpassagestothecastleitselfhavebeenresealedthis

verymorning,savethemaingate.Thatisnowtheonlywayin,andtheonlywayout.Ihavechangedthelocktothemaingate.ThereisonlyonekeytothenewlockandIkeepitwhereverIam.WhenIamoutsidewiththeonehundredtroops,thekeyisintheoutsidelockandnoonecanleavethecastlefromtheinside.WhenIamwithyou,asIamnow,thekeyisintheinsidelock,andnoonemay

enterfromtheoutside.”

“Follow,”saidthePrince,andhemovedtothelargewindowofhischamber.Hepointedoutside.Belowthewindowwasalovelyplantedgarden.BeyondthatthePrince’sprivatestables.Beyondthat,naturally,theoutsidecastlewall.“Thatishowtheywillcome,”hesaid.“Overthewall,throughmystables,pastmygarden,to

mywindow,throttletheQueenandbackthewaytheycamebeforeweknowit.”

“They?”Yellinsaid,thoughheknewtheanswer.

“TheGuilderians,ofcourse.”

“ButthewallwhereyousuggestisthehighestwallsurroundingallofFlorinCastle—itisfiftyfeethighatthatpoint—sothatwould

seemtheleastlikelypointofattack.”Hewastryingdesperatelytokeephimselfundercontrol.

“Allthemorereasonwhytheyshouldchoosethisspot;besides,theworldknowsthattheGuilderiansareunsurpassedasclimbers.”

Yellinhadneverheardthat.HehadalwaysthoughttheSwissweretheoneswho

wereunsurpassedasclimbers.“Highness,”hesaid,inonelastattempt,“Ihavenotyet,fromasinglespy,heardasinglewordaboutasingleplotagainstthePrincess.”

“IhaveitonunimpeachableauthoritythattherewillbeanattemptmadetostranglethePrincessthisverynight.”

“Inthatcase,”Yellinsaid,

andhedroppedtoonekneeandheldouttheenvelope,“Imustresign.”Itwasadifficultdecision—theYellinshadheadedenforcementinFlorinforgenerations,andtheytooktheirworkmorethanseriously.“Iamnotdoingacapablejob,sire;pleaseforgivemeandbelievemewhenIsaythatmyfailureswerethoseofthebodyandmindandnotoftheheart.”

PrinceHumperdinckfoundhimself,quitesuddenly,inagenuinepickle,foroncethewarwasfinished,heneededsomeonetostayinGuilderandrunit,sincehecouldn’tbeintwoplacesatonce,andtheonlymenhetrustedwereYellinandtheCount,andtheCountwouldnevertakethejob,beingobsessed,ashewasthesedays,withfinishinghisstupidPainPrimer.“Idonotacceptyour

resignation,youaredoingacapablejob,thereisnoplot,IshallslaughtertheQueenmyselfthisveryevening,youshallrunGuilderformeafterthewar,nowgetbackonyourfeet.”

Yellindidn’tknowwhattosay.“Thankyou”seemedsoinadequate,butitwasallhecouldcomeupwith.

“Oncetheweddingisdone

withIshallsendherheretomakereadywhileIshall,withbootscarefullyprocuredinadvance,maketracksleadingfromthewalltothebedroomandreturningthenfromthebedroomtothewall.Sinceyouareinchargeoflawenforcement,IexpectyouwillnottakelongtoverifymyfearsthattheprintscouldonlybemadebythebootsofGuilderiansoldiers.Oncewehavethat,we’ll

needaroyalproclamationortwo,myfathercanresignasbeingunfitforbattle,andyou,dearYellin,willsoonbelivinginGuilderCastle.”

Yellinknewadismissalspeechwhenheheardone.“Ileavewithnothoughtinmyheartbuttoserveyou.”

“Thankyou,”Humperdincksaid,pleased,because,afterall,loyaltywasonethingyou

couldn’tbuy.Andinthatmood,hesaidtoYellinbythedoor,“And,oh,ifyouseethealbino,tellhimhemaystandinthebackformywedding;it’squiteallrightwithme.”

“Iwill,Highness,”Yellinsaid,adding,“butIdon’tknowwheremycousinis—Iwentlookingforhimlessthananhouragoandhewasnowheretobefound.”

ThePrinceunderstoodimportantnewswhenhehearditbecausehewasn’tthegreatesthunterintheworldfornothingand,evenmore,becauseiftherewasonethingyoucouldsayaboutthealbinoitwasthathewasalwaystobefound.“MyGod,youdon’tsupposethereisaplot,doyou?It’saperfecttime;thecountrycelebrates;ifGuilderwereabouttobefivehundred

yearsold,IknowI’dattackthem.”

“Iwillrushtothegateandfight,tothedeathifnecessary,”Yellinsaid.

“Goodman,”thePrincecalledafterhim.Iftherewasanattack,itwouldcomeatthebusiesttime,duringthewedding,sohewouldhavetomovethatup.Stateaffairswentslowly,but,still,hehad

authority.Sixo’clockwasout.Hewouldbemarriednolaterthanhalfpastfiveorknowthereasonwhy.

Atfiveo’clock,MaxandValeriewereinthebasementsippingcoffee.“Youbettergetrighttobed,”Valeriesaid;“youlookalltroubled.Youcan’tstayupallnightasifyouwereapup.”

“I’mnottired,”Maxsaid.“Butyou’rerightabouttheother.”

“TellMama.”Valeriecrossedtohim,strokedwherehishairhadbeen.

“It’sjustIbeenremembering,aboutthepill.”

“Itwasabeautifulpill,honey.Feelproud.”

“IthinkImesseduptheamounts,though.Didn’ttheywantanhour?WhenIdoubledtherecipe,Ididn’tdoenough.Idon’tthinkit’llworkoverfortyminutes.”

Valeriemovedintohislap.“Let’sbehonestwitheachother;sure,you’reagenius,butevenageniusgetsrusty.Youwerethreeyearsoutofpractice.Fortyminutes’llbeplenty.”

“Isupposeyou’reright.Anyway,whatcanwedoaboutit?Downisdown.”

“Thepressuresyoubeenunder,ifitworksatall,it’llbeamiracle.”

Maxhadtoagreewithher.“Afantasmagoria.”Henodded.

Themaninblackwasnearly

stiffwhenFezzikreachedthewall.Itwasalmostfiveo’clockandFezzikhadbeencarryingthecorpsethewholewayfromMiracleMax’s,backstreettobackstreet,alleywaytoalleyway,anditwasoneofthehardestthingshehadeverdone.Nottaxing.Hewasn’tevenwinded.Butifthepillwasjustwhatitlookedlike,achocolatelump,thenhe,Fezzik,wasgoingtohavealifetimeofbaddreams

ofbodiesgrowingstiffbetweenhisfingers.

Whenheatlastwasinthewallshadow,hesaidtoInigo,“Whatnow?”

“We’vegottoseeifit’sstillsafe.Theremightbeatrapwaiting.”Itwasthesamepartofthewallthatled,shortly,totheZoo,inthefarthestcornerofthecastlegrounds.Butifthealbino’sbodyhadbeen

discovered,thenwhoknewwhatwaswaitingforthem?

“ShouldIgoupthen?”Fezzikasked.

“We’llbothdoit,”Inigoreplied.“Leanhimagainstthewallandhelpme.”FezziktiltedthemaninblacksohewasinnodangeroffallingandwaitedwhileInigojumpedontohisshoulders.ThenFezzikdidtheclimbing.

Anycrackinthewallwasenoughforhisfingers;theleastimperfectionwasallheneeded.Heclimbedquickly,familiarwithitnow,andafteramoment,Inigowasabletograbholdofthetopandsay,“Allright;goonbackdown,”soFezzikreturnedtothemaninblackandwaited.

Inigocreptalongthewalltopindeadsilence.Faracrosshecouldseethecastleentrance

andthearmedsoldiersflankingit.AndcloserathandwastheZoo.Andoffinthedeepestbrushinthefarthestcornerofthewall,hecouldmakeoutthestillbodyofthealbino.Nothinghadchangedatall.Theywere,atleastsofar,safe.HegestureddowntoFezzik,whoscissoredthemaninblackbetweenhislegs,beganthearmclimbnoiselessly.

Whentheywerealltogetheronthewalltop,Inigostretchedoutthedeadmanandthenhurriedalonguntilhecouldgetabetterviewofthemaingate.Thewalkfromtheouterwalltothemaincastlegatewasslantedslightlydown,notmuchofanincline,butasteadyone.Theremustbe—Inigodidaquickcount—atleastahundredmenstandingattheready.Andthetimemustbe

—heestimatedclosely—fiveafterfivenow,perhapsclosetoten.Fiftyminutestillthewedding.InigoturnedthenandhurriedbacktoFezzik.“Ithinkweshouldgivehimthepill,”hesaid.“Itmustbearoundforty-fiveminutestilltheceremony.”

“Thatmeanshe’sonlygotfifteenminutestoescapewith,”Fezziksaid.“Ithinkweshouldwaituntilatleast

five-thirty.Halfbefore,halfafter.”

“No,”Inigosaid.“We’regoingtostoptheweddingbeforeithappens—that’sthebestway,atleasttomymind.Beforethey’reallset.Inthehustleandbustlebeforehand,that’swhenweshouldstrike.”

Fezzikhadnofurtherrebuttal.

“Anyway,”Inigosaid,“wedon’tknowhowlongittakestoswallowsomethinglikethis.”

“Icouldnevergetitdownmyself,Iknowthat.”

“We’llhavetoforcefeedhim,”Inigosaid,unwrappingthechocolate-coloredlump.“Likeastuffedgoose.Putourhandsaroundhisneckandkindofpushitdowninto

whatevercomesnext.”

“I’mwithyou,Inigo,”Fezziksaid.“Justtellmewhattodo.”

“Let’sgethiminasittingposition,Ithink,don’tyou?Ialwaysfindit’seasierswallowingsittingupthanlyingdown.”

“We’llhavetoreallyworkatit,”Fezziksaid.“He’s

completelystiffbynow.Idon’tthinkhe’llbendeasyatall.”

“Youcanmakehim,”Inigosaid.“Ialwayshaveconfidenceinyou,Fezzik.”

“Thankyou,”Fezziksaid.“Justdon’teverleavemealone.”Hepulledthecorpsebetweenthemandtriedtomakehimbendinhalf,butthemaninblackwassostiff

Fezzikreallyhadtoperspiretogethimatrightangles.“Howlongdoyouthinkwe’llhavetowaitbeforeweknowifthemiracle’sonornot?”

“Yourguessisasgoodasmine,”Inigosaid.“Gethismouthaswideopenasyoucanandtilthisheadbackalittleandwe’lljustdropitinandsee.”

Fezzikworkedatthedead

man’smouthawhile,gotitthewayInigosaid,tiltedtheneckperfectthefirsttime,andInigokneltdirectlyabovethecavity,droppedthepilldown,andasithitthethroatheheard,“Couldn’tbeatmealone,youdastards;well,Ibeatyoueachapart,I’llbeatyoubothtogether.”

“You’realive!”Fezzikcried.

Themaninblacksat

immobile,likeaventriloquist’sdummy,justhismouthmoving.“ThatisperhapsthemostchildishlyobviousremarkIhaveevercomeacross,butwhatcanyouexpectfromastrangler.Whywon’tmyarmsmove?”

“You’vebeendead,”Inigoexplained.

“Andwe’renotstranglingyou,”Fezzikexplained,“we

werejustgettingthepilldown.”

“Theresurrectionpill,”Inigoexplained.“IboughtitfromMiracleMaxanditworksforsixtyminutes.”

“Whathappensaftersixtyminutes?DoIdieagain?”(Itwasn’tsixtyminutes;hejustthoughtitwas.Actuallyitwasforty;onlytheyhaduseduponealreadyin

conversation,soitwasdowntothirty-nine.)

“Wedon’tknow.Probablyyoujustcollapseandneedtendingforayearorhoweverlongittakestogetyourstrengthback.”

“IwishIcouldrememberwhatitwaslikewhenIwasdead,”themaninblacksaid.“I’dwriteitalldown.Icouldmakeafortuneonabooklike

that.Ican’tmovemylegseither.”

“Thatwillcome.It’ssupposedto.Maxsaidthetongueandthebrainwereshoo-insandprobablyyou’llbeabletomove,butslowly.”

“ThelastthingIrememberwasdying,sowhyamIonthiswall?Areweenemies?Haveyougotnames?I’mtheDreadPirateRoberts,butyou

cancallme‘Westley.’“

“Fezzik.”

“InigoMontoyaofSpain.Letmetellyouwhat’sbeengoingon—”Hestoppedandshookhishead.“No,”hesaid.“There’stoomuch,itwouldtaketoolong,letmedistillitforyou:theweddingisatsix,whichleavesusprobablynowsomethingoverhalfanhourtogetin,stealthegirl,

andgetout;butnotbeforeIkillCountRugen.”

“Whatareourliabilities?”

“Thereisbutoneworkingcastlegateanditisguardedbyperhapsahundredmen.”

“Hmmm,”Westleysaid,notasunhappyashemighthavebeenordinarily,becausejustthenhebegantobeabletowigglehistoes.

“Andourassets?”

“Yourbrains,Fezzik’sstrength,mysteel.”

Westleystoppedwigglinghistoes.“That’sall?That’sit?Everything?Thegrandtotal?”

Inigotriedtoexplain.“We’vebeenoperatingunderaterribletimepressurefromtheverybeginning.Just

yesterdaymorning,forexample,IwasahopelessdrunkandFezziktoiledfortheBruteSquad.”

“It’simpossible,”Westleycried.

“IamInigoMontoyaandIdonotacceptdefeat—youwillthinkofsomething;Ihavecompleteconfidenceinyou.”

“She’sgoingtomarry

HumperdinckandI’mhelpless,”Westleysaidinblinddespair.“Laymedownagain.Leavemealone.”

“You’regivingintooeasily,wefoughtmonsterstoreachyou,weriskedeverythingbecauseyouhavethebrainstoconquerproblems.Ihavecompleteandabsolutetotalconfidencethatyou—”

“Iwanttodie,”Westley

whispered,andheclosedhiseyes.“IfIhadamonthtoplan,maybeImightcomeupwithsomething,butthis...”Hisheadrockedfromsidetoside.“I’msorry.Leaveme.”

“Youjustmovedyourownhead,”Fezziksaid,doinghisbesttobecheery.“Doesn’tthatupyourspirits?”

“Mybrains,yourstrengthandhissteelagainstahundred

troops?Andyouthinkalittlehead-jiggleissupposedtomakemehappy?Whydidn’tyouleavemetodeath?Thisisworse.Lyingherehelplesswhilemytruelovemarriesmymurderer.”

“Ijustknowonceyou’reoveryouremotionaloutbursts,you’llcomeupwith—”

“Imeanifweevenhadawheelbarrow,thatwouldbe

something,”Westleysaid.

“Wheredidweputthatwheelbarrowthealbinohad?”Inigoasked.

“Overbythealbino,Ithink,”Fezzikreplied.

“Maybewecangetawheelbarrow,”Inigosaid.

“Wellwhydidn’tyoulistthatamongourassetsinthefirst

place?”Westleysaid,sittingup,staringoutatthemassedtroopsinthedistance.

“Youjustsatup,”Fezziksaid,stilltryingtobecheery.

Westleycontinuedtostareatthetroopsandtheinclineleadingdowntowardthem.Heshookhishead.“WhatI’dgiveforaholocaustcloak,”hesaidthen.

“Therewecan’thelpyou,”Inigosaid.

“Willthisdo?”Fezzikwondered,pullingouthisholocaustcloak.

“Where...?”Inigobegan.

“Whileyouwereafterfrogdust—”Fezzikanswered.“ItfitsonicelyIjusttuckeditawayandkeptit.”

Westleygottohisfeetthen.“Allright.I’llneedaswordeventually.”

“Why?”Inigoasked.“Youcanbarelyliftone.”

“True,”Westleyagreed.“Butthatishardlycommonknowledge.Hearmenow;theremaybeproblemsoncewe’reinside—”

“I’llsaytheremaybe

problems,”Inigocutin.“Howdowestopthewedding?Oncewedo,howdoIfindtheCount?OnceIdo,wherewillIfindyouagain?Oncewe’retogether,howdoweescape?Onceweescape—”

“Don’tpesterhimwithsomanyquestions,”Fezziksaid.“Takeiteasy;he’sbeendead.”

“Right,right,sorry,”Inigosaid.

Themaninblackwasmovingverrrrrryslowlynowalongthetopofthewall.Byhimself.FezzikandInigofollowedhimthroughthedarknessinthedirectionofthewheelbarrow.Therewasnodenyingthefactthattherewasacertainexcitementintheair.

Buttercup,forherpart,feltnoexcitementwhatsoever.Shehad,infact,neverrememberedsuchawonderfulfeelingofcalm.HerWestleywascoming;thatwasherworld.EversincethePrincehaddraggedhertoherroomshehadspenttheinterveninghoursthinkingofwaystomakeWestleyhappy.Therewasnowayhecouldmissstoppingherwedding.Thatwastheonly

thoughtthatcouldsurvivethetripacrossherconsciousmind.

Sowhensheheardtheweddingwastobemovedup,shewasn’ttheleastupset.Westleywasalwayspreparedforcontingencies,andifhecouldrescueheratsix,hecouldjustashappilyrescueherathalfpastfive.

Actually,Prince

Humperdinckgotthingsgoingevenfasterthanhehadhoped.Itwas5:23whenheandhisbride-to-bewerekneelingbeforetheagedArchdeanofFlorin.Itwas5:24whentheArchdeanstartedtospeak.

And5:25whenthescreamingstartedoutsidethemaingate.

Buttercuponlysmiledsoftly.HerecomesmyWestleynow,

wasallshethought.

Itwasnot,inpointoffact,herWestleythatwascausingthecommotionoutfront.Westleywasdoingallhecouldtosimplywalkstraightdowntheinclinetowardthemaingatewithouthelp.Aheadofhim,Inigostruggledwiththeheavywheelbarrow.ThereasonforitsweightwasthatFezzikstoodinit,arms

wide,eyesblazing,voiceboominginterriblerage:“IAMTHEDREADPIRATEROBERTSANDTHEREWILLBENOSURVIVORS.”HeSaidthatoverandover,hisvoiceechoingandreverberatingashisrageincreased.Hewas,standingthere,glidingdownthroughthedarkness,quiteanimposingfigure,seeming,allinall,probablyclosetotenfeettall,withvoicetomatch.

Buteventhatwasnotthecauseofthescreaming.

Yellin,fromhispositionbythegate,wasreasonablyupsetattheroaringgiantglidingdowntowardthemthroughthedarkness.Notthathedoubtedhishundredmencoulddispatchthegiant;theupsettingthingwasthat,ofcourse,thegiantwouldbeawareofthattoo,and

logicallytheremustsomewhereinthedimnessouttherebeanynumberofgianthelpers.Otherpirates,anything.Whocouldtell?Still,hismenheldtogetherremarkablystaunchly.

Itwasonlywhenthegiantgothalfwaydowntheinclinethathesuddenly,happily,burstintoflameandcontinuedhistripsaying,“NOSURVIVORS,NO

SURVIVORS!”inamannerthatcouldonlyindicatedeadlysincerity.

ItwasseeinghimhappilyburningandadvancingthatstartedtheBruteSquadtoscreaming.Andoncethathappened,why,everybodypanickedandran....

Eight -HONEYMOON

Oncethepanicwaswellunderway,Yellinrealizedhehadnexttonochanceofbringingthingsimmediatelyundercontrol.Besides,thegiantwasterriblyclosenow,andtheroarof“NOSURVIVORS”madeitvery

hardtodoanysolidthinking,butfortunatelyhehadthesensetograbtheoneandonlykeytothecastleandhideitonhisperson.

Fortunatelytoo,Westleyhadthesensetolookforsuchbehavior.“Givemethekey,”WestleysaidtoYellin,onceInigohadhisswordsecurelypressuringYellin’sAdam’sapple.

“Ihavenokey,”Yellinreplied.“Iswearonthegraveofmyparents;maymymother’ssoulforeversizzleintormentifIamlying.”

“Tearhisarmsoff,”WestleysaidtoFezzik,whowassizzlingabithimselfnow,becausetherewasalimitastojusthowlongaholocaustcloakwasreallygoodfor,andhewantedtostripabit,butbeforehedidthat,he

reachedforYellin’sarms.

“Thiskeyyoumean?”Yellinsaid,andhedroppedit,andafterInigohadtakenhissword,theylethimrunaway.

“Openthegate,”WestleysaidtoFezzik.

“I’msohot,”Fezziksaid,“canIpleasetakethisthingofffirst?”andafterWestley’snod,hepulledtheflaming

cloakawayandleftitontheground,thenunlockedthegateandpulledthedooropenenoughforthemtoslipthrough.

“Lockitandkeepthekey,Fezzik,”Westleysaid.“Itmustbeafter5:30bynow;halfanhourlefttostopthewedding.”

“Whatdowedoafterwewin?”Fezziksaid,working

withthekey,forcingthegreatlocktoclose.“Whereshouldwemeet?I’mthekindoffellowwhoneedsinstructions.”

BeforeWestleycouldanswer,Inigocriedoutandreadiedhissword.CountRugenandfourpalaceguardswereroundingacornerandrunningtowardthem.Thetimewasthen5:34.

Theweddingitselfdidnotenduntil5:31,andHumperdinckhadtouseallofhispersuasiveabilitiestogeteventhatmuchaccomplished.Asthescreamingfromoutsidethegateburstallboundsofpropriety,thePrinceinterruptedtheArchdeanwithgentlestmannerandsaid,“Holiness,myloveissimplyoverpoweringmyabilitytowait—pleaseskipondownto

theendoftheservice.”

Thetimewasthen5:27.

“HumperdinckandButtercup,”theArchdeansaid,“Iamveryoldandmythoughtsonmarriagearefew,butIfeelImustgivethemtoyouonthismosthappyofdays.”(TheArchdeancouldhearabsolutelynothing,andhadbeensoafflictedsincehewaseighty-fiveorso.The

onlyactualchangethathadcomeoverhiminthepastyearswasthat,forsomereason,hisimpedimenthadgottenworse.“Mawidge,”hesaid.“Vewyold.”Unlessyoupaidstrictattentiontohistitleandpastaccomplishments,itwasveryhardtotakehimseriously.)

“Mawidge—”theArchdeanbegan.

“Again,Holiness,Iinterruptinthenameoflove.Pleasehurryalongasbestyoucantotheend.”

“Mawidgeisadweamwiffinadweam.”

Buttercupwaspayinglittleattentiontothegoingson.Westleymustberacingdownthecorridorsnow.Healwaysransobeautifully.Evenbackonthefarm,longbeforeshe

knewherheart,itwasgoodtowatchhimrun.

CountRugenwastheonlyotherpersonintheroom,andthecommotionatthegatehadhimonedge.Outsidethedoorhehadhisfourbestswordsmen,sonoonecouldenterthetinychapel,but,still,therewerealotofpeoplescreamingwheretheBruteSquadshouldhavebeen.Thefourguardswere

theonlyonesleftinsidethecastle,forthePrinceneedednospectatorstotheeventsthatweresoontohappen.Ifonlytheidiotclericwouldspeedthingsalong.Itwasalready5:29.

“Thedweamofwuvwappedwiffinthegweaterdweamofeverwastingwest.Eternityisourfwiend,wememberthat,andwuvwiwfowwowyoufowever.”

Itwas5:30whenthePrincestoodupandapproachedtheArchdeanfirmly.“Manandwife,”heshouted.”Manandwife.Saythat!”

“I’mnotthereyet,”theArchdeananswered.

“Youjustarrived,”thePrincereplied.“Now!”

ButtercupcouldpictureWestleyroundingthefinal

corner.Therewerefourguardsoutsidewaiting.Attensecondsperguard,shebeganfiguring,butthenstopped,becausenumbershadalwaysbeenherenemy.Shelookeddownatherhands.Oh,IhopehestillthinksI’mpretty,shethought;thosenightmarestookalotoutofme.

“Manandwife,you’remanandwife,”theArchdeansaid.

“Thankyou,Holiness,”thePrincesaid,whirlingtowardRugen.“Stopthatcommotion!”hecommanded,andbeforehiswordswerefinished,theCountwasrunningforthechapeldoor.

Itwas5:31.

IttookafullthreeminutesfortheCountandtheguardstoreachthegate,andwhenthey

did,theCountcouldnotbelieveit—hehadseenWestleykilled,andnowtherewasWestley.Andwithagiantandastrangelyscarredswarthyfellow.Somethingaboutthetwinscarsbankeddeepintohismemory,butnowwasnotthetimeforreminiscing.“Killthem,”hesaidtothefencers,“butleavethemiddle-sizedoneuntilItellyou”andthefourguardsdrewtheirswords—

—buttoolate;toolateandtooslow,becauseasFezzikmovedinfrontofWestley,Inigoattacked,thegreatbladeblinding,andthefourthguardwasdeadbeforethefirstonehadhadsufficienttimetohitthefloor.

Inigostoodstillamoment,panting.ThenhemadeahalfturninthedirectionofCountRugenandexecutedaquickandwell-formedbow.

“Hello,”hesaid.“MynameisInigoMontoya.Youkilledmyfather.Preparetodie.”

Andinreply,theCountdidagenuinelyremarkableandunexpectedthing:heturnedandran.Itwasnow5:37.

KingLotharonandQueenBellaarrivedattheweddingchapelintimetoseeCountRugenleadingthefour

guardsinachargedownthecorridor.

“Arewetooearly?”QueenBellasaid,astheyenteredtheweddingchapelandfoundButtercupandHumperdinckandtheArchdean.

“Thereismuchgoingon,”thePrincesaid.“All,induetime,willcomematchlesslyclear.ButIfearthereisastrongpossibilitythat,atthis

verymoment,theGuilderiansareattacking.Ineedtimealoneinthegardentoformulatemybattleplans,socouldIprevailuponyoutwotopersonallyescortButtercuptomybedchamber?”

Hisrequestwas,naturally,granted.ThePrincehurriedoffthen,and,afteronestoptounlockaclosetandremoveseveralpairsofbootsthathadoncebelongedtoGuilderian

soldiers,hehurriedoutside.

Buttercup,forherpart,walkedveryslowlyandpeacefullybetweentheoldKingandQueen.Therewasnoneedevertoworry,notwithWestleytheretostopherweddingandtakeherawayforever.ThetruthofhersituationdidnottakegenuineeffectuntilshewashalfwaytoHumperdinck’sroom.

TherewasnoWestley.

NosweetWestley.Hehadnotseenfittocomeforher.

Shegaveaterriblesigh.Notsomuchofsadnessasoffarewell.OnceshegottoHumperdinck’sroom,itwouldallbedone.Hehadasplendidcollectionofswordsandcutlery.

Shehadneverseriously

contemplatedsuicidebefore.Oh,ofcourseshe’dthoughtaboutit;everygirldoesfromtimetotime.Butneverseriously.Toherquietsurprise,shefounditwasgoingtobetheeasiestthingintheworld.ShereachedthePrince’schamber,saidgoodnighttotheRoyalFamily,andwentdirectlytothewalldisplayofweaponry.Thetimewasthen5:46.

Inigo,at5:37,wassostartledattheCount’scowardicethatforamomenthesimplystoodthere.Thenhegavechaseand,ofcourse,hewasfaster,buttheCountmadeitthroughadoorway,slammedandlockedit,andInigowashelplesstobudgethething.“Fezzik,”hecalledoutdesperately,“Fezzik,breakitdown.”

ButFezzikwaswithWestley.

Thatwashisjob,tostayandprotectWestley,andthoughtheywerestillwithinviewofInigo,Fezzikcoulddonothing;Westleyhadalreadystartedtowalk.Slowly.Weakly.Buthewas,underhisownpower,walking.

“Chargeit,”Fezzikreplied.“Slamyourshoulderhard.Itwillgiveforyou.”

Inigochargedthedoor.He

slammedandslammedhisshoulder,buthewasthin,thedoorotherwise.“He’sgettingawayfromme,”Inigosaid.

“ButWestleyishelpless,”Fezzikremindedhim.

“FezzikIneedyou,”Inigoscreamed.

“I’llonlybeaminute,”Fezziksaid,becausethereweresomethingsyoudid,no

matterwhat,andwhenafriendneededhelp,youhelpedhim.

Westleynodded,keptonwalking,stillslowly,stillweak,butstillabletomove.

“Hurry,”Inigourged.

Fezzikhurried.Helumberedtothelockeddoor,threwhisbulkagainstithard.

Thedoorheld.

“Please,”Inigourged.

“I’llgetit,I’llgetit,”Fezzikpromised,andhetookafewstepsbackthistime,thendrovehisshoulderagainstthewood.

Thedoorgavesome.Alittle.Butnotenough.

Fezzikbackedawayfromit

now.Witharoarhechargedacrossthecorridorandwhenhewascloseheleftthecastlefloorwithbothfeetandthedoorsplintered.

“Thankyou,thankyou,”Inigosaid,alreadyhalfwaythroughthebrokendoor.

“WhatdoIdonowthough?”Fezzikcalled.

“BacktoWestley,”Inigo

answered,infullflightnow,beginningchasingthroughaseriesofrooms.

“Stupid,”Fezzikpunishedhimselfwith,andheturnedandrejoinedWestley.OnlyWestleywasnolongerthere.Fezzikcouldfeelthepanicstartinginsidehim.Therewerehalfadozenpossiblecorridors.“Whichwhichwhich?”Fezziksaid,tryingtofigureitout,tryingforonce

inhislifetodosomethingright.“You’llpickthewrongone,knowingyou,”hesaidoutloud,andthenhetookacorridorandstartedhurryingalongitasfastashecould.

Hedidpickthewrongone.

Westleywasalonenow.

Inigowasgaining.Hecouldsee,instanttoinstant,flashes

ofthefleeingnobleinthenextroom,andwhenhereachedthatplace,theCountwouldhavemadeitintotheroombeyond.Buteachtime,Inigowasgaining.By5:40,hefeltconfidenthewould,afterachaseoftwenty-fiveyears,bealoneinaroomwithhisrevenge.

By5:48,Buttercupfeltquitesureshewouldbedead.It

wasstillaminutebeforethatasshestoodstaringatthePrince’sknives.Themostlethallookedtobetheonemostused,theFlorinesedagger.Pointedatoneend,itenteredeasily,growingintoatriangularshapebythehilt.Forquickerbleeding,itwassaid.Theyweremadeinvaryingsizes,andthePrince’slookedtobeoneofthelargest,beingwristthickwhereitjoinedthehandle.

Shepulleditfromthewall,putittoherheart.

“Therearealwaystoofewperfectbreastsinthisworld;leaveyoursalone,”sheheard.AndtherewasWestleyonthebed.Itwas5:48,andsheknewthatshewouldneverdie.

Westley,forhispart,assumedhehadtill6:15forhishourtobeup.Thatwas,

ofcourse,whenanhourwasup,onlyhedidn’thaveanhour;onlyfortyminutes.Till5:55,actually.Sevenminutesmore.But,ashasbeensaid,hehadnowayofknowingthat.

AndInigohadnowayofknowingthatCountRugenhadaFlorinesedagger.Orthathewasexpertwiththething.IttookInigountil5:41

beforeheactuallycorneredtheCount.Inabilliardroom.“Hello,”hewasabouttosay.“MynameisInigoMontoya;youkilledmyfather;preparetodie.”Whatheactuallygotoutwassomewhatless:“Hello,mynameisIni—”

Andthenthedaggerrearrangedhisinsides.Theforceofthethrowsenthimstaggeringbackwardintothewall.Therushofblood

weakenedhimsoquicklyhecouldnotkeephisfeet.“Domingo,Domingo,”hewhispered,andthenhewas,atforty-twominutesafterfive,lostonhisknees....

ButtercupwasbaffledbyWestley’sbehavior.Sherushedtohim,expectingtobemethalfwayinawildembrace.Instead,heonlysmiledatherandremained

wherehewas,lyingonthePrince’spillows,aswordbesidehisbody.

ButtercupcontinuedthejourneyaloneandfellontoherveryoneanddarlingWestley.

“Gently,”hesaid.

“Atatimelikethisthat’sallyoucanthinktosay?‘Gently’?”

“Gently,”Westleyrepeated,notsogentlythistime.

Shegotoffhim.“Areyouangryatmeforgettingmarried?”shewondered.

“Youarenotmarried,”hesaid,softly.Strangehisvoicewas.“Notinmychurchoranyother.”

“Butthisoldmandidpronounce—”

“Widowshappen.Everyday—don’tthey,YourHighness?”AndnowhisvoicewasstrongerasheaddressedthePrince,whoentered,muddybootsinhand.

PrinceHumperdinckdoveforhisweapons,andaswordflashedinhisthickhands.“Tothedeath,”hesaid,advancing.

Westleygaveasoftshakeofhishead.“No,”hecorrected.“Tothepain.”

Itwasanoddphrase,andforthemomentitbroughtthePrinceupshort.Besides,whywasthefellowjustlyingthere?Wherewasthetrap?“Idon’tthinkIquiteunderstandthat.”

Westleylaywithoutmovingbuthewassmilingmore

deeplynow.“I’llbeonlytoodelightedtoexplain.”Itwas5:50now.Twenty-fiveminutesofsafetyleft.(Therewerefive.Hedidnotknowthat.Howcouldheknowthat?)Slowly,carefully,hebegantotalk....

Inigowastalkingtoo.Itwasstill5:42whenhewhispered,“I’m...sorry...Father....”

CountRugenheardthewordsbutnothingreallyconnecteduntilhesawtheswordstillheldinInigo’shand.“You’rethatlittleSpanishbratItaughtalessonto,”hesaid,comingclosernow,examiningthescars.“It’ssimplyincredible.Haveyoubeenchasingmealltheseyearsonlytofailnow?Ithinkthat’stheworstthingIeverheardof;howmarvelous.”

Inigocouldsaynothing.Thebloodfaucetedfromhisstomach.

CountRugendrewhissword.

“...sorry,Father...I’msorry....”

‘IDON’TWANTYOUR“SORRY”!MYNAMEISDOMINGOMONTOYAANDIDIEDFORTHATSWORDANDYOUCAN

KEEPYOUR“SORRY.”IFYOUWEREGOINGTOFAIL,WHYDIDN’TYOUDIEYEARSAGOANDLETMERESTINPEACE?’AndthenMacPhersonwasafterhimtoo—”Spaniards!InevershouldhavetriedtoteachaSpaniard;they’redumb,theyforget,whatdoyoudowithawound?HowmanytimesdidIteachyou—whatdoyoudowithawound?”

“Coverit...”Inigosaid,andhepulledtheknifefromhisbodyandstuffedhisleftfistintothebleeding.

Inigo’seyesbegantofocusagain,notwell,notperfectly,butenoughtoseetheCount’sbladeasitapproachedhisheart,andInigocouldn’tdomuchwiththeattack,parryitvaguely,pushthepointofthebladeintohisleftshoulderwhereitdidnounendurable

harm.

CountRugenwasabitsurprisedthathispointhadbeendeflected,buttherewasnothingwrongwithpiercingahelplessman’sshoulder.Therewasnohurrywhenyouhadhim.

MacPhersonwasscreamingagain—”Spaniards!GivemeaPolackanytime;atleastthePolacksremembertousethe

wallwhentheyhaveone;onlytheSpaniardswouldforgettouseawall—”

Slowly,inchbyinch,Inigoforcedhisbodyupthewall,usinghislegsjustforpushing,lettingthewalldoallthesupportingthatwasnecessary.

CountRugenstruckagain,butforanynumberofreasons,mostprobably

becausehehadn’texpectedtheotherman’smovement,hemissedtheheartandhadtobecontentwithdrivinghisbladethroughtheSpaniard’sleftarm.

Inigodidn’tmind.Hedidn’tevenfeelit.Hisrightarmwaswherehisinterestlay,andhesqueezedthehandleandtherewasstrengthinhishand,enoughtoflickoutattheenemy,andCountRugen

hadn’texpectedthateither,sohegavealittleinvoluntarycryandtookastepbacktoreassessthesituation.

PowerwasflowingupfromInigo’shearttohisrightshoulderanddownfromhisshouldertohisfingersandthenintothegreatsix-fingeredswordandhepushedofffromthewallthen,withawhispered,“...hello...mynameis...InigoMontoya;

youkilled...myfather;preparetodie.”

Andtheycrossedswords.

TheCountwentforthequickkill,theinverseBonetti.

Nochance.

“Hello...mynameisInigoMontoya;youkilledmyfather...preparetodie....”

Againtheycrossed,andtheCountmovedintoaMorozzodefense,becausethebloodwasstillstreaming.

Inigoshovedhisfistdeeperintohimself.“Hello,mynameisInigoMontoya;youkilledmyfather;preparetodie.”

TheCountretreatedaroundthebilliardtable.

Inigoslippedinhisownblood.

TheCountcontinuedtoretreat,waiting,waiting.

“Hello,mynameisInigoMontoya;youkilledmyfather;preparetodie.”Hedugwithhisfistandhedidn’twanttothinkwhathewastouchingandpushingandholdingintoplacebutforthefirsttimehefeltabletotrya

move,sothesix-fingeredswordflashedforward—

—andtherewasacutdownonesideofCountRugen’scheek—

—anotherflash—

—anothercut,parallel,bleeding—

“Hello,mynameisInigoMontoya;youkilledmy

father;preparetodie.”

“Stopsayingthat!”TheCountwasbeginningtoexperienceadeclineofnerve.

InigodrovefortheCount’sleftshoulder,astheCounthadwoundedhis.ThenhewentthroughtheCount’sleftarm,atthesamespottheCounthadpenetratedhis.“Hello.”Strongernow.

“Hello!HELLO.MYNAMEISINIGOMONTOYA.YOUKILLEDMYFATHER.PREPARETODIE!”

“No—”

“Offermemoney—”

“Everything,”theCountsaid.

“Powertoo.Promisemethat.”

“AllIhaveandmore.Please.”

“OffermeanythingIaskfor.”

“Yes.Yes.Sayit.”

“IWANTDOMINGOMONTOYA,YOUSONOFABITCH,”andthesix-fingeredswordflashedagain.

TheCountscreamed.

“Thatwasjusttotheleftofyourheart.”Inigostruckagain.

Anotherscream.

“Thatwasbelowyourheart.CanyouguesswhatI’mdoing?”

“Cuttingmyheartout.”

“YoutookminewhenIwasten;Iwantyoursnow.Weareloversofjustice,youandI—whatcouldbemorejustthanthat?”

TheCountscreamedonefinaltimethenfelldeadoffear.

Inigolookeddownathim.TheCount’sfrozenfacewaspetrifiedandashenandthebloodstillpoureddowntheparallelcuts.Hiseyesbulged

wide,fullofhorrorandpain.Itwasglorious.Ifyoulikethatkindofthing.

Inigolovedit.

Itwas5:50whenhestaggeredfromtheroom,headingheknewnotwhereorforhowlong,buthopingonlythatwhoeverhadbeenguidinghimlatelywouldnotdeserthimnow....

“I’mgoingtotellyousomethingonceandthenwhetheryoudieornotisstrictlyuptoyou,”Westleysaid,lyingpleasantlyonthebed.Acrosstheroom,thePrinceheldtheswordhigh.“WhatI’mgoingtotellyouisthis:dropyoursword,andifyoudo,thenIwillleavewiththisbaggagehere”—heglancedatButtercup—”andyouwillbetiedupbutnotfatally,andwillsoonbefree

togoaboutyourbusiness.Andifyouchoosetofight,well,then,wewillnotbothleavealive.”

“Iexpecttobreatheawhile,”thePrincesaid.“Ithinkyouarebluffing—youhavebeenprisonerformonthsandImyselfkilledyoulessthanadayago,soIdoubtthatyouhavemuchmightleftinyourarm.”

“Possiblytrue,”Westleyagreed,“andwhenthemomentcomes,rememberthat:Imightindeedbebluffing.Icould,infact,belyingrightherebecauseIlackthestrengthtostand.Allthat,weighcarefully.”

“Youareonlyalivenowbecauseyousaid‘tothepain.’Iwantthatphraseexplained.”

“Mypleasure.”Itwas5:52now.Threeminutesleft.Hethoughthehadeighteen.Hetookalongpause,thenstartedspeaking.“Surely,youmusthaveguessedIamnoordinarysailor.Iam,infact,Robertshimself.”

“Iam,infact,nottheleastsurprisedorawed.”

“Tothepainmeansthis:ifweduelandyouwin,deathfor

me.IfweduelandIwin,lifeforyou.Butlifeonmyterms.”

“Meaning?”Itcouldallstillbeatrap.Hisbodywasattheready.

“Therearethosewhocredityouwithskillasahunter,thoughIfindthatdoubtful.”

ThePrincesmiled.Thefellowwasbaitinghim.Why?

“Andifyouhuntwell,thensurely,whenyoutrackedyourlady,youmusthavebegunattheCliffsofInsanity.Aduelwasfoughtthereandifyounotedthemovementsandthestrides,youwouldknowthatthoseweremastersbattling.Theywere.Rememberthis:Iwonthatfight.AndIamapirate.Wehaveourspecialtrickswithswords.”

Itwas5:53.“Iamnotunfamiliarwithsteel.”

“Thefirstthingyoulosewillbeyourfeet,”Westleysaid.“Theleft,thentheright.Belowtheankle.Youwillhavestumpsavailabletousewithinsixmonths.Thenyourhands,atthewrist.Theyhealsomewhatquicker.Fivemonthsisafairaverage.”AndnowWestleywasbeginningtobeawareof

strangechangesinhisbodyandhebegantalkingfaster,fasterandlouder.“Nextyournose.Nosmellofdawnforyou.Followedbyyourtongue.Deeplycutaway.Notevenastumpleft.Andthenyourlefteye—”

“Andthenmyrighteyeandthenmyears,andshallwegetonwithit?”thePrincesaid.Itwas5:54.

“Wrong!”Westley’svoicerangacrosstheroom.“Yourearsyoukeep,sothateveryshriekofeverychildatseeingyourhideousnesswillbeyourstocherish—everybabethatweepsinfearatyourapproach,everywomanthatcries‘DearGod,whatisthatthing?’willreverberateforeverwithyourperfectears.Thatiswhat‘tothepain’means.ItmeansthatIleaveyoutoliveinanguish,

inhumiliation,infreakishmiseryuntilyoucanstanditnomore;sothereyouhaveit,pig,thereyouknow,youmiserablevomitousmass,andIsaythisnow,andliveordie,it’suptoyou:Dropyoursword!“

Theswordcrashedtothefloor.

Itwas5:55.

Westley’seyesrolledupintohisheadandhisbodycrumpledandhalfpitchedfromthebedandthePrincesawthatandwenttothefloor,grabbingforhissword,standing,startingtobringithigh,whenWestleycriedout:“Nowyouwillsuffer:tothepain!“Hiseyeswereopenagain.

Openandblazing.

“I’msorry;Imeantnothing,Ididn’t;look,”andthePrincedroppedhisswordasecondtime.

“Tiehim,”WestleysaidtoButtercup.“Bequickaboutit—usethecurtainsashes;theylookenoughtoholdhim—”

“You’ddoitsomuchbetter,”Buttercupreplied.“I’llgetthesashes,butIreallythinkyoushoulddotheactualtying.”

“Woman,”Westleyroared,“youarethepropertyoftheDreadPirateRobertsandyou...do...what...you’re...told!”

Buttercupgatheredthesashesanddidwhatshecouldwithtyingupherhusband.

Humperdincklayflatwhileshedidit.Heseemedstrangelyhappy.“Iwasn’tafraidofyou,”hesaidto

Westley.“Idroppedmyswordbecauseitwillbesomuchmorepleasureformetohuntyoudown.”

“Youthinkso,doyou?Idoubtyou’llfindus.”

“I’llconquerGuilderandthenI’llcomeforyou.Thecorneryouleastexpect,whenyouroundit,youwillfindmewaiting.”

“IamtheKingoftheSea—Iawaityouwithpleasure.”HecalledouttoButtercup.“Ishetiedyet?”

“Sortof.”

TherewasmovementatthedoorwayandthenInigowasthere.Buttercupcriedoutattheblood.Inigoignoredher,lookedaround.“Where’sFezzik?”

“Isn’thewithyou?”Westleysaid.

Inigoleanedforamomentagainstthenearestwall,gatheringstrength.Thenhesaid,“Helphimup,”toButtercup.

“Westley?”Buttercupreplied.“Whydoesheneedmetohelphim?”

“Becausehehasnostrength,

nowdowhatyou’retold,”Inigosaid,andthensuddenlyonthefloor,thePrincebeganstrugglingmightilywiththesashesandhewastied,andtiedwell,butpowerandangerwerebothonhisside.

“Youwerebluffing;Iwasrightthefirsttime,”Humperdincksaid,andInigosaid,“Thatwasnotacleverthingofmetoletslip;I’msorry,”andWestleysaid,

“Didyouatleastwinyourbattle?”andInigosaid,“Idid,”andWestleysaid,“Letustrytofindsomeplacetodefendourselves;atleastperhapswecangotogether,”andButtercupsaid,“I’llhelpyouup,poordarling,”andFezziksaid,“Oh,Inigo,Ineedyou,please,Inigo;I’mlostandmiserableandfrightenedandIjustneedtoseeafriendlyface.”

Theymovedslowlytothewindow.

WanderinglostandforlornthroughthePrince’sgardenwasFezzik,leadingthefourgiantwhites.

“Here,”Inigowhispered.

“Threefriendlyfaces,”Fezziksaid,kindofbouncingupanddownonhisheels,whichhealwaysdidwhenthingswere

lookingup.“Oh,Inigo,IjustruinedeverythingandIgotsolostandwhenIstumbledintothestablesandfoundtheseprettyhorsesIthoughtfourwashowmanyofthemtherewereandfourwashowmanyofusthereweretoo,ifwefoundthelady—hello,lady—andIthought,Whynottakethemalongwithmeincasewealleverrunintoeachother.”Hestoppedamoment,considering.“AndIguesswe

did.”

Inigowasterriblyexcited.“Fezzik,youthoughtforyourself,”hesaid.

Fezzikconsideredthatamomenttoo.“Doesthatmeanyou’renotmadatmeforgettinglost?”

“Ifweonlyhadaladder—”Buttercupbegan.

“Oh,youdon’tneedaladdertogetdownhere,”Fezziksaid;“it’sonlytwentyfeet,I’llcatchyou,onlydoitoneatatime,please;there’snotenoughlight,soifyouallcomeatonceImightmiss.”

SowhileHumperdinckstruggled,theyjumped,oneatatime,andFezzikcaughtthemgentlyandputthemonthewhites,andhestillhadthekeysotheycouldgetout

thefrontgate,andexceptforthefactthatYellinhadregroupedtheBruteSquad,theywouldhavegottenoutwithoutanytroubleatall.Asitwas,whenFezzikunlockedthegate,theysawnothingbutarmedBrutesinformation,Yellinattheirlead.Andnoonesmiling.

Westleyshookhishead.“Iamdryofnotions.”

“Child’splay,”ofallpeople,Buttercupsaid,andsheledthegrouptowardYellin.“TheCountisdead;thePrinceisingravedanger.Hurrynowandyoumayyetsavehim.Allofyou.Go.”

NotaBrutemoved.

“Theyobeyme,”Yellinsaid.“AndIaminchargeofenforcement,and—”

“AndI,”Buttercupsaid,”I,”sherepeated,standingupinthesaddle,acreatureofinfinitebeautyandeyesthatwerestartingtogrowfrightening,”I,”shesaidforthethirdandlasttime,“am

the

QUEEEEEEEEEEEEN.”

Therewasnodoubtinghersincerity.Orpower.Or

capabilityforvengeance.ShestaredimperiouslyacrosstheBruteSquad.

“SaveHumperdinck,”oneBrutesaid,andwiththattheyalldashedintothecastle.

“SaveHumperdinck,”Yellinsaid,thelastoneleft,butclearlyhisheartwasn’tinit.

“Actually,thatwassomethingofafib,”

Buttercupsaidastheybegantorideforfreedom,“seeingasLotharonhasn’tofficiallyresigned,butIthought‘IamtheQueen’soundedbetterthan‘IamthePrincess.’“

“AllIcansayis,I’mimpressed,”Westleytoldher.

Buttercupshrugged.“I’vebeengoingtoroyaltyschoolthreeyearsnow;somethinghadtoruboff.”Shelookedat

Westley.“Youallright?Iwasworriedaboutyoubackonthebedthere.Youreyesrolledupintoyourheadandeverything.”

“IsupposeIwasdyingagain,soIaskedtheLordofPermanentAffectionforthestrengthtolivetheday.Clearly,theanswercameintheaffirmative.”

“Ididn’tknowtherewassuch

aFellow,”Buttercupsaid.

“NeitherdidI,intruth,butifHedidn’texist,Ididn’tmuchwanttoeither.”

ThefourgreathorsesseemedalmosttoflytowardFlorinChannel.

“Itappearstomeasifwe’redoomed,then,”Buttercupsaid.

Westleylookedather.“Doomed,madam?”

“Tobetogether.Untiloneofusdies.”

“I’vedonethatalready,andIhaven’ttheslightestintentionofeverdoingitagain,”Westleysaid.

Buttercuplookedathim.“Don’twesortofhavetosometime?”

“Notifwepromisetooutliveeachother,andImakethatpromisenow.”

Buttercuplookedathim.“OhmyWestley,sodoI.”

‘Andtheylivedhappilyeverafter,’myfathersaid.

‘Wow,’Isaid.

Helookedatme.‘You’renot

pleased?’

‘No,no,it’sjust,itcamesoquick,theending,itsurprisedme.Ithoughtthere‘dbealittlemore,isall.Imean,wasthepirateshipwaitingorwasthatjustarumorlikeitsaid?’

‘ComplaintoMr.Morgenstern.“Andtheylivedhappilyeverafter”ishowitends.’

Thetruthwas,myfatherwasfibbing.Ispentmywholelifethinkingitendedthatway,upuntilIdidthisabridgement.ThenIglancedatthelastpage.ThisishowMorgensternendsit.

Buttercuplookedathim.“OhmyWestley,sodoI.”Frombehindthemsuddenly,closerthantheyimagined,theycouldheartheroarof

Humperdinck:“Stopthem!Cutthemoff!”Theywere,admittedly,startled,buttherewasnoreasonforworry:theywereonthefastesthorsesinthekingdom,andtheleadwasalreadytheirs.

However,thiswasbeforeInigo’swoundreopened;andWestleyrelapsedagain;andFezziktookthewrongturn;andButtercup’shorsethrewashoe.Andthenightbehind

themwasfilledwiththecrescendoingsoundofpursuit....

That’sMorgenstern’sending,a‘LadyortheTiger?’-typeeffect(thiswasbefore’TheLadyortheTiger?,’remember).Now,hewasasatirist,soheleftitthatway,andmyfatherwas,IguessIrealizedtoolate,aromantic,soheendeditanotherway.

Well,I’manabridger,soI’mentitledtoafewideasofmyown.Didtheymakeit?Wasthepirateshipthere?Youcanansweritforyourself,but,forme,Isayyesitwas.Andyes,theygotaway.Andgottheirstrengthbackandhadlotsofadventuresandmorethantheirshareoflaughs.

Butthatdoesn’tmeanIthinktheyhadahappyendingeither.Because,inmy

opinionanyway,theysquabbledalot,andButtercuplostherlookseventually,andonedayFezziklostafightandsomehot-shotkidwhippedInigowithaswordandWestleywasneverabletoreallysleepsoundbecauseofHumperdinckmaybebeingonthetrail.

I’mnottryingtomakethisadowner,understand.Imean,I

reallydothinkthatloveisthebestthingintheworld,exceptforcoughdrops.ButIalsohavetosay,fortheumpty-umpthtime,thatlifeisn’tfair.It’sjustfairerthandeath,that’sall.

NewYorkCity

February,1973

AlsobyWilliamGoldman

Novels

TheTempleofGoldYourTurnToCurtsy,My

TurnToBowSoldierintheRain

BoysandGirlsTogetherNoWaytoTreataLadyTheThingofItIs...

Father’sDay

Nonfiction

TheSeason:ACandidLookatBroadway

PlaysandMusicals

Blood,SweatandStanleyPoole

(withJamesGoldman)AFamilyAffair

(withJamesGoldmanandJohnKander)

Movies

HarperButchCassidyandthe

SundanceKid

TableofContents

One-THEBRIDE.24Two-THEGROOM...39Three - THE COURTSHIP .42

Four - THEPREPARATIONS.47

Five - THEANNOUNCEMENT.48

Six - THE FESTIVITIES .107

Seven - THE WEDDING ..140

Eight-HONEYMOON..161