The Princess Bride

The Princess Bride Page 104

It was much worse than the scream of the wild dog. In the first place, the dial for the wild dog had only been set at six, whereas this was more than triple that. And so, naturally enough, it was more than three times as long. And more than three times as loud. But none of this really was why it was worse.

It was the scream from a human throat that made the difference.

In her chamber, Buttercup heard it, and it frightened her, but she had not the least idea what it was.

By the main door of the castle, Yellin heard it, and it also frightened him, though he couldn’t imagine what it was either.

All the hundred Brutes and fighters flanked by the main door heard it too, and, to a man, they were bothered by it, and they talked it over for quite a while, but none of them had any sound notions as to what it might have been.

The Great Square was filled with common people excited about the coming wedding and anniversary, and they all heard it too, and no one even made the pretense of not being scared, but, again, none of them knew at all what it might have been.

The death scream rose higher in the night.

All the streets leading into the Square were also filled with citizens, all trying to crowd into the Square, and they heard it, but once they admitted they were petrified, they gave up trying to guess what it might have been.

Inigo knew immediately.

In the tiny alley that he and Fezzik were trying to force their way through, he stopped, remembering. The alley led to the streets that led to the Square, and the alley was jammed too.

“I don’t like that sound,” Fezzik said, his skin, for the moment, cold.

Inigo grabbed the giant and the words began pouring out: “Fezzik—Fezzik—that is the sound of Ultimate Suffering—I know that sound—that was the sound in my heart when Count Rugen slaughtered my father and I saw him fall—the man in black makes it now—”

“You think that’s him?”

“Who else has cause for Ultimate Suffering this celebration night?” And with that, he started to follow the sound.

But the crowds were in his way, and he was strong but he was thin and he cried, “Fezzik—Fezzik—we must track that sound, we must trace it to its source, and I cannot move, so you must lead me. Fly, Fezzik; this is Inigo begging you—make a path—please!”

Well, Fezzik had rarely had anyone beg him for anything, least of all Inigo, and when something like that happened, you did what you could, so Fezzik, without waiting, began to push. Forward. Lots of people. Fezzik pushed harder. Lots of people began to move. Out of Fezzik’s way. Fast.

The death scream was starting to fade now, fading in the clouds.

“Fezzik!” said Inigo. “All your power, NOW.”

Down the alley Fezzik ran, people screaming and diving to get out of his way, and in his footsteps Inigo kept pace, and at the end of the alley was a street and the scream was fainter now but Fezzik turned left and into the middle of the street he went and he owned it, no one was in his way, nothing dared block his way, and the scream was getting just so hard to hear, so with all his might Fezzik roared, “QUIET!” and the street was suddenly hushed and Fezzik pounded along, Inigo right behind, and the scream was still there, still faintly there, and into the Great Square itself and the castle beyond before the scream was gone…

Westley lay dead by the Machine. The Prince kept the dial by the twenty mark long long after it was necessary, until the Count said, “Done.”

The Prince left without another look at Westley. He took the secret underground stairs four at a time. “She actually called me a coward,” he said, and then he was gone from sight.

Count Rugen started taking notes. Then he threw his quill pen down. He tested Westley briefly, then he shook his head. Death was not of any intellectual interest to him at all; when you were dead, you couldn’t react to pain. The Count said, “Dispose of the body,” because, even though he couldn’t see the albino, he knew the albino was there. It was really a shame, he realized as he mounted the stairs after the Prince. You just didn’t come across victims like Westley every day of the year.