The 'who' is lost to time now.
Because it was at that moment of poetic inspiration that Prince Humperdinck's razor-sharp, metal-tipped arrow ripped through Fezzik's clothing on its way to his great heart....
ONCE HE REALIZED they had taken the left turning, Prince Humperdinck knew they were his. He turned to Yellin, the Chief Enforcer of Florin, a finger to his lips. Yellin raised a hand and the fifty trailing members of the Brute Squad slowed.
The moon's perfect yellow dusted the thickening trees. Humperdinck could not help but stare at their beauty. Only the trees of Florin could interrupt, however briefly, a blood hunt. Was there any place on earth with such trees, Humperdinck wondered? No; resoundingly no. They ranked among the treasures of the universe.
During the Prince's contemplative moment, Yellin gestured for the Brute Squad to get into their attack groups: the knifers here, the stranglers there, the crushers in between.
The Prince rounded the last small turning—and there in front of him, so beautifully framed by the perfect trees, was the death tableau. His weeping runaway bride, the two still men on the buckling horse, held there in the arms of the giant. 'Damn,' he told himself. 'If only I'd brought the Royal Sketcher.' Well, he would just have to hold this in memory.
In the Prince's world, the world of scourge and pain, there was still great controversy who to initially attack. Should the nearest be selected? Or should it be the leader? Clearly Westley was that, but at the moment, a frail one at best. And the other still man must have had power, since he had killed Rugen—not the easiest task. It was standard to leave the women for last, they were not expert at blood; they also whimpered and looked to the Heavens for escape—always good for chuckles around future campfires.
Leaving the giant.
The Prince unsheathed his bow, selected his sharpest metal tip, made the insertion. He was a great archer, but at night, with moonlight and shadow, he was a good deal more. He had not missed a night kill in ever so long.
An inhale for balance.
A final smile to the trees.
Then the pull back, the release, and the arrow was on its straight way. The Prince held his breath until he saw the arrow rip the cloth of the giant, at the heart site.
The giant cried out loud in shock and fell backward off his horse.
As he fell, Yellin led the Brute charge and the Battle of the Trees, brief though it was, was on—the fifty Brutes at full cry charging the three men lying sprawled on the ground, the lone woman trying to somehow hold them all in her arms....
As her attackers came eyeball close, Buttercup had this thought: if she had to die, what better way existed than with her true love in her arms and the beauty of her beloved Florinese trees covering her with their branches? Even as a child, nothing pleased her more than the glorious trees at the bottom of her farm, and when her chores for the day were done, that is where she went to wander so happily. What peace they gave. And they would continue to give that peace to her fellow Florinese forever and—
*** Time out. Can you believe that last paragraph? Buttercup's about to die and she thinks of foliage? Horrible, horrible. So do not hold your breath waiting for the stupid Battle of the Trees. I went nuts when I first read this. I'm like you probably, zooming happily along, and Morgenstern was clearly a master of narrative, but right now I bet you are wondering this: what happened?
My God, Fezzik shot in the heart, the two other guys drifting away, Buttercup trying to hold it all together while these FIFTY ARMED BRUTES come charging in—we all want to know what happened, right?
Here is what you are not reading: sixty-five pages on Florinese trees, their history and importance. (Morgenstern had already started, if you noticed—-just when he realizes he's got them, Prince Humperdinck does an entire dumb paragraph about trees.) Even his Florinese publishers begged him to cut it. So I don't care what grief those Morgenstern whizzes at Columbia give me, if ever anything needed getting rid of, it was this.
Want to know why he put it in?
It actually has to do with The Princess Bride. Or rather, its success in Florin. Morgenstern was suddenly flush so he went right out and bought this country house that was off by itself and abutted this huge government-owned forest preserve. He was, indeed, master of all he surveyed.
However...
He had been misinformed. This lumber company had title and not long after he moved in, guess what, they began sawing down all these trees. Morgenstern went nuts. (He really did. His entire correspondence with the lumber company is right there in the Morgenstern Museum, just to the left off Florin Square.)
He couldn't make them stop and in a year or two, his house was all naked and alone and kind of dumb-looking, so he sold it (at a loss, which just killed him) and moved back into town.
But from then on, he became the country's best-known tree savior. (He had his eye on another country place, it turns out, similarly secluded, and he wouldn't buy it until he felt he was safe from the lumber interests.)
So what he did here in Buttercup's Baby was carefully build this huge suspense moment confident that his readers would have to read his tree essay in order to find out who lived and died.
Briefly now, in terms of narrative, this is what you found out: (A) Fezzik survived Humperdinck's metal-tipped arrow because of Miracle Max's holocaust cloak, which Fezzik kept tucked inside his tunic, and the folds of it blunted the arrow's impact, saving his life. (B) The pirates from the ship Revenge were hiding in the trees so when the Brutes were about to slaughter our quartet, they rained down on them like a rage from Heaven and took care of them all in just a couple of minutes, and when Humperdinck and Yellin saw this, they both fled. Then, (C) the pirates, headed by Pierre—their number one guy and next in line to become the Dread Pirate Roberts—took the four and scooted out to the Revenge with them, hoping everyone would be alive when they all got there.
Time back in.
*** AS SOON AS the four were safely aboard, Pierre signaled for the anchor raising and the great pirate ship Revenge slipped through the waters of Florin Channel toward open sea. A snap of his fingers brought the Blood Clogger, who set to work on Inigo while Pierre himself, chief medico and second in command, turned his attention to Westley, or as he was known on the ship, the Dread Pirate Roberts. Fezzik and Buttercup stood close by. Buttercup could not stop trembling so she reached out, tried to hold Fezzik's hand, realized the size discrepency, held his thumb instead.
The Clogger ripped off Inigo's shirt, examined the bleeding man. There were minor sword wounds near each shoulder, but they were nothing. The stomach drew his attention. 'A three-sided Florinese dagger,' he said to Pierre, then turned to Fezzik. 'When?'
'A few hours ago,' Fezzik answered. 'While we were storming the castle.'
'I can clog him,' the Clogger said. 'But he will have little use for this.' He indicated the six-fingered sword still clutched in Inigo's right hand. 'Not for a very long time.' And with that he scurried off, returned in a moment with flour and tomato puree, mixed them expertly, began filling the wound. He looked at Pierre then, nodded in the direction of Westley. 'Want me to work on him?'
'This is not a matter of blood. Listen.' He pounded on Westley's chest, listened to the awful empty sound. 'His life has been sucked away.'
'It happened yesterday,' Fezzik said carefully, trying not to upset Buttercup any more. 'If you were in town you probably heard his death scream.'
