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"Why do you think they locked the door behind us?" Fezzik asked as they moved.
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"To add spice to our trip, I suspect," replied Inigo. It was certainly one of his weaker answers, but the
best he could come up with.
"Here's where the turn starts," said Fezzik, and they slowed, making the sharp turn without stumbling,
continuing on down. "And they took away the candles for the same reason spice?"
"Most likely. Don't squeeze me quite so hard "
"Don'tyou squeezeme quite so hard "
By then they knew they were for it.
There has been, for many years, a running battle among jungle zoologists as to just which of the giant
snakes is the biggest. The anaconda men are forever trumpeting the Orinoco specimen that weighed well
over five hundred pounds, while the python people never fail to reply by pointing out that the African
Rock found outside Zambesi measured thirty-four feet, seven inches. The argument, of course, is silly,
because "biggest" is a vague word, having no value whatever in arguments, if one is serious.
But any serious snake enthusiast would admit, whatever his schooling, that the Arabian Garstini, though
shorter than the python and lighter than the anaconda was quicker and more ravenous than either, and
this specimen of Prince Humperdinck's was not only remarkable for its speed and agility, it was also kept
in a permanent state just verging on the outskirts of starvation, so the first coil came like lightning as it
dropped from above them and pinioned their hands so the fist and sword were useless and the second
coil imprisoned their arms and "Do something " Inigo cried.
"I can't I'm caught you do something "
"Fight it, Fezzik "
"It's too strong for me "
"Nothing is too strong for you "
The third coil was done now, around the upper shoulders, and the fourth coil, the final coil, involved the
throat, and Inigo whispered in terror, because he could hear the beast's breathing now, could actually feel
its breath, "Fight it . . . I'm . . . I'm . . ."
Fezzik trembled with fear and whispered, "Forgive me, Inigo."
"Oh, Fezzik . . . Fezzik . . ."
"What . . . ?"
"I had such rhymes for you. . . ."
"What rhymes? . . ."
Silence.
The fourth coil was finished.
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"Inigo, what rhymes?"
Silence.
Snake breath.
"Inigo, I want to know the rhymes before I die Inigo, I really want to know Inigo, tell me the rhymes,
" Fezzik said, and by now he was very frustrated and, more than that, he was spectacularly angry and
one arm came clear of one coil and that made it a bit less of a chore to fight free of the second coil and
that meant he could take that arm and bring it to the aid of the other arm and now he was yelling it out,
"You're not going anywhere until I know those rhymes" and the sound of his own voice was really very
impressive, deep and resonant, and who was this snake anyway, getting in the path of Fezzik when there
were rhymes to learn, and by this time not only were both arms free of the bottom three coils but he was
furious at the interruption and his hands grabbed toward the snake breath, and he didn't know if snakes
had necks or not but whatever it was that you called the part that was under its mouth, that was the part
he had between his great hands and he gave it a smash against the wall and the snake hissed and spit but
the fourth coil was looser, so Fezzik smashed it again and a third time and then he brought his hands back
a bit for leverage and he began to whip the beast against the walls like a native washerwoman beating a
skirt against rocks, and when the snake was dead, Inigo said, "Actually, I had no specific rhymes in mind;
I just had to do something to get you into action."
Fezzik was panting terribly from his labors. "You lied to me is what you're saying. My only friend in all
my life turns out to be a liar." He started tromping down the stairs, Inigo stumbling after him.
Fezzik reached the door at the bottom and threw it open and slammed it, with Inigo just managing to slip
inside before the door crashed shut.
It locked immediately.
At the end of this corridor, the "To Level Four" sign was clearly visible, and Fezzik hurried toward it.
Inigo pursued him, hurrying past the poisoners, the spitting cobras and Gaboon vipers and, perhaps most
quickly lethal of all, the lovely tropical stonefish from the ocean outside India.
"I apologize," Inigo said. "One lie in all these years, that's not such a terrible average when you consider
it saved our lives."
"There's such a thing as principle" was all Fezzik would answer, and he opened the door that led to the
fourth level. "My father made me promise never to lie, and not once in my life have I even been tempted,"
and he started down the stairs.
"Stop!" Inigo said. "At least examine where we're going."
It was a straight staircase, but completely dark. The opening at the far end was invisible. "It can't be as
bad as where we've been," Fezzik snapped, and down he went.
In a way, he was right. For Inigo, bats were never the ultimate nightmare. Oh, he was afraid of them, like
everybody else, and he would run and scream if they came near; in his mind, though, hell was not
bat-infested. But Fezzik was a Turkish boy, and people claim the fruit bat from Indonesia is the biggest in
the world; try telling that to a Turk sometime. Try telling that to anyone who has heard his mother scream,
"Here come the king bats!" followed by the poisonous fluttering of wings.
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"HERE COME THE KING BATS!" Fezzik screamed, and he was, quite literally, as he stood halfway
down the dark steps, paralyzed with fear, and behind him now, doing his best to fight the darkness, came
Inigo, and he had never heard that tone before, not from Fezzik, and Inigo didn't want bats in his hair
either, but it wasn't worth that kind of fright, so he started to say "What's so terrible about king bats" but
"What" was all he had time for before Fezzik cried, "Rabies! Rabies!" and that was all Inigo needed to
know, and he yelled, "Down, Fezzik," and Fezzik still couldn't move, so Inigo felt for him in the darkness
as the fluttering grew louder and with all his strength he slammed the giant on the shoulder hollering
"Down" and this time Fezzik went to his knees obediently, but that wasn't enough, not nearly, so Inigo
slammed him again crying, "Flat, flat, all the way down," until Fezzik lay on the black stairs shaking and
Inigo knelt above him, the great six-fingered sword flying into his hands, and this was it, this was a test to
see how far down the ninety days of brandy had taken him, how much of the great Inigo Montoya
remained, for, yes, he had studied fencing, true, he had spent half his life and more learning the Agrippa
attack and the Bonetti defense and of course he had studied his Thibault, but he had also, one desperate
time, spent a summer with the only Scot who ever understood swords, the crippled MacPherson, and it
was MacPherson who scoffed at everything Inigo knew, it was MacPherson who said, "Thibault,
Thibault is fine if you fight in a ballroom, but what if you meet your enemy on terrain that is tilted and you
are below him," and for a week, Inigo studied all the moves from below, and then MacPherson put him
on a hill in the upper position, and when those moves were mastered, MacPherson kept right on, for he
was a cripple, his legs stopped at the knee, and so he had a special feel for adversity. "And what if your
enemy blinds you?" MacPherson once said. "He throws acid in your eyes a nd now he drives in for the
kill; what do you do? Tell me that, Spaniard,survive that, Spaniard. " And now, waiting for the charge of
the king bats, Inigo flung his mind back toward the MacPherson moves, and you had to depend on your
ears, you found his heart from his sounds, and now, as he waited, above him Inigo could feel the king [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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"Why do you think they locked the door behind us?" Fezzik asked as they moved.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
"To add spice to our trip, I suspect," replied Inigo. It was certainly one of his weaker answers, but the
best he could come up with.
"Here's where the turn starts," said Fezzik, and they slowed, making the sharp turn without stumbling,
continuing on down. "And they took away the candles for the same reason spice?"
"Most likely. Don't squeeze me quite so hard "
"Don'tyou squeezeme quite so hard "
By then they knew they were for it.
There has been, for many years, a running battle among jungle zoologists as to just which of the giant
snakes is the biggest. The anaconda men are forever trumpeting the Orinoco specimen that weighed well
over five hundred pounds, while the python people never fail to reply by pointing out that the African
Rock found outside Zambesi measured thirty-four feet, seven inches. The argument, of course, is silly,
because "biggest" is a vague word, having no value whatever in arguments, if one is serious.
But any serious snake enthusiast would admit, whatever his schooling, that the Arabian Garstini, though
shorter than the python and lighter than the anaconda was quicker and more ravenous than either, and
this specimen of Prince Humperdinck's was not only remarkable for its speed and agility, it was also kept
in a permanent state just verging on the outskirts of starvation, so the first coil came like lightning as it
dropped from above them and pinioned their hands so the fist and sword were useless and the second
coil imprisoned their arms and "Do something " Inigo cried.
"I can't I'm caught you do something "
"Fight it, Fezzik "
"It's too strong for me "
"Nothing is too strong for you "
The third coil was done now, around the upper shoulders, and the fourth coil, the final coil, involved the
throat, and Inigo whispered in terror, because he could hear the beast's breathing now, could actually feel
its breath, "Fight it . . . I'm . . . I'm . . ."
Fezzik trembled with fear and whispered, "Forgive me, Inigo."
"Oh, Fezzik . . . Fezzik . . ."
"What . . . ?"
"I had such rhymes for you. . . ."
"What rhymes? . . ."
Silence.
The fourth coil was finished.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
"Inigo, what rhymes?"
Silence.
Snake breath.
"Inigo, I want to know the rhymes before I die Inigo, I really want to know Inigo, tell me the rhymes,
" Fezzik said, and by now he was very frustrated and, more than that, he was spectacularly angry and
one arm came clear of one coil and that made it a bit less of a chore to fight free of the second coil and
that meant he could take that arm and bring it to the aid of the other arm and now he was yelling it out,
"You're not going anywhere until I know those rhymes" and the sound of his own voice was really very
impressive, deep and resonant, and who was this snake anyway, getting in the path of Fezzik when there
were rhymes to learn, and by this time not only were both arms free of the bottom three coils but he was
furious at the interruption and his hands grabbed toward the snake breath, and he didn't know if snakes
had necks or not but whatever it was that you called the part that was under its mouth, that was the part
he had between his great hands and he gave it a smash against the wall and the snake hissed and spit but
the fourth coil was looser, so Fezzik smashed it again and a third time and then he brought his hands back
a bit for leverage and he began to whip the beast against the walls like a native washerwoman beating a
skirt against rocks, and when the snake was dead, Inigo said, "Actually, I had no specific rhymes in mind;
I just had to do something to get you into action."
Fezzik was panting terribly from his labors. "You lied to me is what you're saying. My only friend in all
my life turns out to be a liar." He started tromping down the stairs, Inigo stumbling after him.
Fezzik reached the door at the bottom and threw it open and slammed it, with Inigo just managing to slip
inside before the door crashed shut.
It locked immediately.
At the end of this corridor, the "To Level Four" sign was clearly visible, and Fezzik hurried toward it.
Inigo pursued him, hurrying past the poisoners, the spitting cobras and Gaboon vipers and, perhaps most
quickly lethal of all, the lovely tropical stonefish from the ocean outside India.
"I apologize," Inigo said. "One lie in all these years, that's not such a terrible average when you consider
it saved our lives."
"There's such a thing as principle" was all Fezzik would answer, and he opened the door that led to the
fourth level. "My father made me promise never to lie, and not once in my life have I even been tempted,"
and he started down the stairs.
"Stop!" Inigo said. "At least examine where we're going."
It was a straight staircase, but completely dark. The opening at the far end was invisible. "It can't be as
bad as where we've been," Fezzik snapped, and down he went.
In a way, he was right. For Inigo, bats were never the ultimate nightmare. Oh, he was afraid of them, like
everybody else, and he would run and scream if they came near; in his mind, though, hell was not
bat-infested. But Fezzik was a Turkish boy, and people claim the fruit bat from Indonesia is the biggest in
the world; try telling that to a Turk sometime. Try telling that to anyone who has heard his mother scream,
"Here come the king bats!" followed by the poisonous fluttering of wings.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
"HERE COME THE KING BATS!" Fezzik screamed, and he was, quite literally, as he stood halfway
down the dark steps, paralyzed with fear, and behind him now, doing his best to fight the darkness, came
Inigo, and he had never heard that tone before, not from Fezzik, and Inigo didn't want bats in his hair
either, but it wasn't worth that kind of fright, so he started to say "What's so terrible about king bats" but
"What" was all he had time for before Fezzik cried, "Rabies! Rabies!" and that was all Inigo needed to
know, and he yelled, "Down, Fezzik," and Fezzik still couldn't move, so Inigo felt for him in the darkness
as the fluttering grew louder and with all his strength he slammed the giant on the shoulder hollering
"Down" and this time Fezzik went to his knees obediently, but that wasn't enough, not nearly, so Inigo
slammed him again crying, "Flat, flat, all the way down," until Fezzik lay on the black stairs shaking and
Inigo knelt above him, the great six-fingered sword flying into his hands, and this was it, this was a test to
see how far down the ninety days of brandy had taken him, how much of the great Inigo Montoya
remained, for, yes, he had studied fencing, true, he had spent half his life and more learning the Agrippa
attack and the Bonetti defense and of course he had studied his Thibault, but he had also, one desperate
time, spent a summer with the only Scot who ever understood swords, the crippled MacPherson, and it
was MacPherson who scoffed at everything Inigo knew, it was MacPherson who said, "Thibault,
Thibault is fine if you fight in a ballroom, but what if you meet your enemy on terrain that is tilted and you
are below him," and for a week, Inigo studied all the moves from below, and then MacPherson put him
on a hill in the upper position, and when those moves were mastered, MacPherson kept right on, for he
was a cripple, his legs stopped at the knee, and so he had a special feel for adversity. "And what if your
enemy blinds you?" MacPherson once said. "He throws acid in your eyes a nd now he drives in for the
kill; what do you do? Tell me that, Spaniard,survive that, Spaniard. " And now, waiting for the charge of
the king bats, Inigo flung his mind back toward the MacPherson moves, and you had to depend on your
ears, you found his heart from his sounds, and now, as he waited, above him Inigo could feel the king [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]