Уильям Голдман - The Princess Bride

"It happened yesterday," Fezzik said carefully, trying not to upset Buttercup any more. "If you were in town you probably heard his death scream."

"That was him?" Pierre cried out. "They did that to my master? Where was this?"

"At the bottom of the Zoo of Death." Fezzik indicated Inigo. "We found him there."

Pierre studied Westley a moment longer before he sagged. "He must have been tortured beyond human endurance." He shook his head. "If only I'd been with you. I would have known what to do. I would have rushed him to Miracle Max."

Fezzik started bouncing up and down. "But that's what we did. We went straight there. For a resurrection pill."

Energy began to flow back into Pierre's body. "If Max worked on him, then we have hope."

"We have more than hope," Buttercup said. "There is true love."

"Princess," Pierre said, "you work your side of the street and I'll work mine." He looked at Fezzik, thinking. Then this question: "Did Max tell you how dead he was?"

"'Sort of.' But then he slipped to 'mostly.'"

Pierre nodded. "'Mostly' is not ideal, but I can work around that. Was it a new resurrection pill, not an old one Max had hanging around?"

"Made fresh—I had to gather the holocaust mud," Fezzik said.

Pierre was getting excited now. His eyes blazed at Fezzik. "Last and most important question: did Valerie have time to do the chocolate coating?"

"She let me lick the pot," Fezzik said, happy because he knew he was giving the right answer. "It was duh-licious."

Little cut here. (I already said in the introduction that they went to One Tree Island to get their health back so there's not a lot of nail-biting tension in the air concerning Westley's survival at this point.)

What you're not going to read is a six-page sequence in which Pierre—and we all care desperately about spending time with him, right?—does all these wondrous modern Florinese medical things to help Westley. None of which work, natch, because at this point in his life, Morgenstern had a hate on for doctors because he had developed gas (and I'm sorry if this is disgusting to you but I promised King I would research the hell out of it, and I did a lot of legwork before I found that Morgenstern's entire medical record is on view in the Museum, but not everyone can see the personal stuff like this, you have to have some kind of scholarly interest to read it, and even then you can't take it out of the place). I forget where this sentence began, sorry, but anyway, he had gas, couldn't shake it, and gave Pierre this sequence to get his own back. (When nothing worked, by the way, Fezzik picked Westley up and hung him by the feet over the side till his lungs filled with seawater, a famous cure in Turkey—not for death but rather gout, which Fezzik's father suffered from. Westley coughed like crazy but it got him talking again.)

INIGO WAS STILL unconscious but had stopped bleeding when Westley finally opened his eyes. Middle of the night. Buttercup lay alongside him on the deck while Fezzik watched over them all. Pierre approached, knelt, spoke softly. "I have the worst of all news."

" 'Worst' does not exist," Westley whispered. He studied Buttercup's face. "We are together."

Pierre took a breath, then said it. "You must leave the ship. And you must do so this night."

Before Buttercup could voice her outrage, Westley put a finger to her lips. "Of course. I understand. Humperdinck is after us."

"His entire armada. We can outrun them for a while, but sooner or later, as long as you are here..."

"We are not in the best of shape for travel," Buttercup said. "Give us a few days. My husband is the most powerful man for a thousand miles. No place on earth is safe from him."

"Not possible. Much as I would like to. The crew would panic, as well they should, and I cannot have them losing faith in me."

Westley nodded. Then he was silent. Then he said Fezzik's name. Fezzik waited. "Do you remember the climb up the Cliffs of Insanity?"

"I don't want to go back there," Fezzik said. "I'm afraid of heights."

"Fezzik," Westley said patiently. "I don't want to live there either. Just answer me this. You were carrying three people when you did it, and please think before you answer me: were you tired? "

Fezzik waited 'til he was sure he had it right. Then he said, "No."

"Why weren't you? Our lives depend on this, so please take your time."

Fezzik didn't need time. "My arms," he said quietly.

Westley looked at him only a moment more. Then he turned to Pierre. "We will need chains and a small boat." He paused. "Go quickly now. You must get us close to One Tree Island by dawn."

THE REVENGE MADE spectacular time, full sail and a favoring wind, and soon they were sailing through a remote part of Florin Sea. Before dawn, the small boat was lowered and the four, all heavily chained to Fezzik now, got in. Neither Westley nor Inigo was capable of much movement. Fezzik took the oars, Westley nodded, and Fezzik began to row.

From the bridge, Pierre said, "I pray to see you again."

"Do," Westley told him.

Buttercup cradled him in her lap. "That was so sweet of him," she said. "He did not seem a man of great religious conviction."

"This will be his first prayer. And it could not be for a more needy group."

"Why do you say that?" Buttercup asked.

"Let us just hold each other," Westley said. "While we can."

"That's fairly ominous of you, don't you think?"

Fezzik listened. Terrified. But he had so many questions he did not know where to begin. So he just rowed. And every so often he smiled down at Inigo. Who every so often was able to smile back.

They were silent then, the four. For what seemed a very long time. The night could not have been prettier. The weather balmy. The waves all but nonexistent. A sweet caressing wind.

Ahhhhhh.

Fezzik rowed on, getting into a fine rhythm, his great arms enjoying the outing. He rowed harder for a moment and, of course, the tiny boat went faster. Then back to normal pace and, of course, the tiny boat slowed. Fezzik enjoyed doing that—it got rid of the monotony; harder, faster, normal, slower, harder, faster, normal. Faster.

Hmm, Fezzik thought, I wonder why that happened?

He rowed harder again and this time the vessel seemed close to flight, and it was then that Fezzik pulled the oars entirely out of the water—

—and the boat careened on faster than before.

Much faster than before. And then in the distance, but approaching quickly, came the roar. And Fezzik said, "Oh, Westley, I did something wrong, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to zoom like this. I was just sort of breaking the monotony, faster slower, that kind of thing, and I never meant for this to happen."

"It is not you," Westley replied, keeping his voice as steady as he could so as not to make things worse for his comrades. "The whirlpool has us now."

Inigo blinked awake on the word. "Fezzik ... row around it."

"We can't do that," Westley said then.

Buttercup spoke all their thoughts then. "Westley, my hero and savior, what's the deal here?"

"I'll be very brief. Humperdinck's armada is after us. We need to disappear and mend. One Tree Island, from all I've heard, may well be the best spot on earth for us."

"And just what makes it so special?" Buttercup asked, louder now, because the small boat was rocketing now and the roar was growing loud.

"I can't be specific because I've never been there," Westley explained, half shouting, holding tight to the side so as not to be pulled overboard. "No one has ever been there. It is shrouded by mist with just the top of the single tree visible above the clouds. The mist is caused by the whirlpool. The island is surrounded by the whirlpool. And rocks. No boat can sail through—the rocks crush it or the water sucks it down. Now do you see why it is perfect for us? Humperdinck cannot get there and soon he will lose interest in trying to."