The Princess Bride

The Princess Bride Page 69

“There was a mighty duel,” Prince Humperdinck said, directing his comment toward Count Rugen, who had finally caught up, together with a contingent of a hundred mounted men-at-arms. “My guess would be…” And for a moment the Prince paused, following footsteps. “Would be that whoever fell here, ran off there,” and he pointed one way, “and that whoever was the victor ran off along the mountain path in almost precisely the opposite direction. It is also my opinion that the victor was following the path taken by the Princess.”

“Shall we follow them both?” the Count asked.

“I think not,” Prince Humperdinck replied. “Whoever is gone is of minimal importance, since whoever has the Princess is the whoever we’re after. And because we don’t know the nature of the trap we might be being led into, we need all the arms we have in one band. Clearly, this had been planned by countrymen of Guilder, and nothing must ever be put past them.”

“You think this is a trap, then?” the Count asked.

“I always think everything is a trap until proven otherwise,” the Prince answered. “Which is why I’m still alive.”

And with that, he was back aboard a white and galloping.

When he reached the mountain path where the hand fight happened, the Prince did not even bother dismounting. Everything that could be seen was quite visible from horseback.

“Someone has beaten a giant,” he said, when the Count was close enough. “The giant has run away, do you see?”

The Count, of course, saw nothing but rock and mountain path. “I would not think to doubt you.”

“And look there!” cried the Prince, because now he saw, for the first time, in the rubble of the mountain path, the footsteps of a woman. “The Princess is alive!”

And again the whites were thundering across the mountain.

When the Count caught up with him again, the Prince was kneeling over the still body of a hunchback. The Count dismounted. “Smell this,” the Prince said, and he handed up a goblet.

“Nothing,” the Count said. “No odor at all.”

“Iocane,” the Prince replied. “I would bet my life on it. I know of nothing else that kills so silently.” He stood up then. “The Princess was still alive; her footprints follow the path.” He shouted at the hundred mounted men: “There will be great suffering in Guilder if she dies!” On foot now, he ran along the mountain path, following the footsteps that he alone could see. And when those footsteps left the path for wilder terrain, he followed still. Strung out behind him, the Count and all the soldiers did their best to keep up. Men stumbled, horses fell, even the Count tripped from time to time. Prince Humperdinck never even broke stride. He ran steadily, mechanically, his barrel legs pumping like a metronome.

It was two hours after dawn when he reached the steep ravine.

“Odd,” he said to the Count, who was tiring badly.

The Count continued only to breathe deeply.

“Two bodies fell to the bottom, and they did not come back up.”

“That is odd,” the Count managed.

“No, that isn’t what’s odd,” the Prince corrected. “Clearly, the kidnapper did not come back up because the climb was too steep, and our cannons must have let him know that they were closely pursued. His decision, which I applaud, was to make better time running along the ravine floor.”

The Count waited for the Prince to continue.

“It’s just odd that a man who is a master fencer, a defeater of giants, an expert in the use of iocane powder, would not know what this ravine opens into.”

“And what is that?” asked the Count.