Inigo held his magnificent sword aloft and whispered a prayer.

“Father, I have come so close to avenging you. The six-fingered man has followed the kidnapped princess and I do not know where they have gone. Please, father, I need you guide my sword again. Lead me to the six-fingered man and to the princess. Sorry to bother you again, I’ll try to leave you alone after this.”

The sword came silently to life as it had earlier in the clearing above the Pit of Despair. But this time it was in a hurry.

“Run, Fezzik!” Inigo took off across the field, pulled by the unseen hand of his father guiding the blade, running as fast as his legs could carry him. Fezzik thundered behind him with slow, clumsy strides.

The sword led them at a breakneck pace over hills and through shallow creeks, along the Gilder frontier and under the branches of golden forests. Every minute saw the poor giant fall further behind, and he had nearly lost sight of the Spaniard and his sword, when they arrived at the entrance to the Fire Swamp.