The Princess Bride

Chapter Forty-Two: Vengeance

Aster was talking too. It was still 5:42 when he whispered, "I'm...sorry...Tooth..."

Count Black heard the words be nothing really connected until he saw the sword still held in Aster's hand. "Your that Australian brat I taught a lesson to," he said, coming closer now, examining the scars. "It's simply incredible. Have you been chasing me all theses year just to fail now? I think that's the worst thing I ever heard of; how marvellous."

Aster could say nothing. The blood fauceted from his stomach.

Count Black drew his sword.

"...sorry,Tooth...I'm sorry..."

'I DON'T WANT YOUR "SORRY"! YOUR NAME IS ASTER BUNMAND AND I DIED FOR YOU AND THAT SWORD AND YOU CAN KEEP YOU "SORRY." IF YOU WERE GOING TO FAIL, WHY DIDN'T YOU DIE YEARS AGO AND LET ME REST IN PEACE?' And then MacPherson was after him too-'Austrian! I never should of tried to teach a Austrian; they are dumb, they forget, what do you do with a wound? How many times did I teach you-what do you do with a wound?'

"Cover it..." Aster said, and he pulled the knife from his body and stuffed his left fist into the bleeding.

Aster's eyes began to focus again, not well, not perfectly, but enough to see the Counts blade as it approached his heart, and aster couldn't do much with the attack, parry it vaguely, push the point of the blade into his left shoulder where it did no unendurable harm.

Count Black was a bit surprised that his point had been deflected, but there was nothing wrong with piercing a helpless mans shoulder. There was no hurry when you had him.

MacPherson was screaming again-'Australians! Give me a Polack anytime; remember to use the wall when they have one; only the Australians would forget to use a wall-"

Slowly inch, by inch, Aster forced his body up the wall, using his legs just for pushing, letting the wall do all the supporting that was necessary.

Count Black struck again, but for any number of reasons, most probably because he hadn't expected the other man's movement, he missed the heart and had to be content with driving his blade through the Australian's left arm.

Aster didn't mind. He didn't even feel it. His right arm was were his interest lay, and he squeezed the handle and there was strength in his hand, enough to flick out the enemy, and Count Black hadn't expected that either, so he gave a little involuntary cry and took a step back to reassess the situation.

Power was flowing up Aster's heart to his right shoulder and down from his shoulder to his fingers and then into the great six-fingered swords and he pushed off from the wall then, with a whispered, "...hello...my name is...Aster Bunmand; you killed...my wife; prepare to die."

And they crossed swords.

The Count went for the quick kill, the inverse Bonetti.

No chance.

"Hello...my name is Aster Bunmand; you killed my wife...prepare to die..."

Again they crossed, and the Count moved into a Morozzo defence, because the blood was still streaming.

Aster shoved his fist deeper into himself. "Hello, my name is Aster Bunmand; you killed my wife; prepare to die."

The count retreated around the billiard table.

Aster slipped in his own blood.

The Count continued to retreats, waiting, waiting.

"Hello, my name is Aster Bunmand; you killed my wife; prepare to die." He dug with his fist and he didn't want to think what he was touching and pushing and holding in place but for the first time he felt able to try and move, so the six-fingered sword flashed forward-

-and there was a cut down one side of Count Black's cheek-

-another cut, parallel, bleeding-

"Hello, my name is Aster Bunmand; you killed my wife; prepare to die."

"Stop saying that!" The Count was beginning to experience a decline of nerve.

Aster dove for the Count's left shoulder, as the Count had wounded his. The he went through the Count's left arm, at the same spot the Count had penetrated his. "HELLO." Stronger now. "Hello! HELLO. MY NAME IS ASTER BUNMAND. YOU KILLED MY WIFE. PREPARE TO DIE!"

"No-"

"Offer me money-"

"Everything," the Count said.

"Power too. Promise me that."

"All I have and more. Please."

"Offer me anything I ask for."

"Yes. Yes. Say it."

"I WANT MY WIFE BACK, YOU SON OF A B****," and the six-fingered sword flashed again.

The Count screamed.

"That was just to the left of your heart." Aster struck again.

Another scream.

"That was below your heart. Can you guess what I am doing?"

"Cutting my heart out."

"You took mine on the day you killed my wife; I want yours now. We are lovers of justice, you and I-what could be more just than that?"

The count screamed one final time and then fell dead of fear.

Aster looked down at him. The Count's frozen face was petrified and ashen and the blood still poured down the parallel cuts. His eyes bulged wide, full of horror and pain. It was glorious. If you liked that kind of thing.

Aster loved it.

It was 5:50 when he staggered from the room, heading he knew not where or for how long, but hoping only that whoever had been guiding him lately would not desert him now...