Krull Page #6

COLWYN:

A forest near the Valley of Needles.

ERGO:

Blast! A thousand miles off course.

Well, I was rushed. There was a

certain difference of opinion

concerning a venison pie. The

foolish man left it sitting on his

windowsill. What did he expect?

COLWYN:

Perhaps he expected to eat it.

ERGO:

For that rudeness, peasant lout, I

am going to leave you hanging by

your heels when I depart. Which is

right now.

>From the folds of his voluminous clothing, Ergo produces a

tattered spellbook. He peers at a page, mumbles to himself,

and pokes his head toward Colwyn - whereupon he vanishes.

Colwyn glances around but the little man is nowhere to be

seen.

ERGO (O.S.)

Get me down from here!

Colwyn turns and sees Ergo hanging upside-down from a tree

limb directly behind him. He lifts him down.

ERGO:

My spells always go wrong when I am

observed. Be gone!

YNYR:

The forest is not safe these days.

You'd best travel with us.

ERGO:

Me? Travel with you? I am Ergo the

Magnificent ...

(flattens hand)

... short in stature ...

(points to the sky)

... tall in power ...

(opposes thumb and forefinger)

... narrow of purpose ...

(shades eyes)

... wide of vision. And I do not

travel with peasants and beggars.

Goodbye!

We follow Ergo as he sets off down the forest path, heading

in the opposite direction from Colwyn and Ynyr. After a few

yards, the forest seems to grow darker, the sounds more

ominous. Ergo glances around apprehensively. Suddenly,

through an opening in the leaves, he sees a face with a

single eye in the middle of it.

With a yelp, he turns and races back up the path after

Colwyn and Ynyr. When he catches up, he wedges himself

between them to get as much protection as possible.

ERGO:

I just remembered I have urgent

business in this direction.

COLWYN:

What business?

ERGO:

(fearful glance behind)

Staying alive.

EXT. FOREST CLEARING - DAY

As Colwyn, Ynyr, and Ergo cross the clearing, Ergo steps on

a snare-trigger and is suddenly hoisted into the air by his

foot. Colwyn draws his sword and turns to face five armed

men who step out of the forest. They're a rag-tag bunch,

garbed in various kinds of chain-mail and armed with a

bizarre variety of weapons.

TORQUIL (O.S.)

The lad is quick, very quick.

Colwyn wheels to see TORQUIL THE ROBBER leaning against a

tree, his huge battle-axe resting casually across his

shoulders. His cheek bulges with a wad of chewing tobacco.

TORQUIL:

But also very young. Six to one is

no odds, boy.

ERGO:

(yelling as he hangs upside-

down)

Get me down from here you louts or

I'll turn you all into pigs!

Torquil glances up at Ergo, then spits a stream of brown

juice at the ground and steps forward to investigate his

prisoners.

ERGO:

(muttering as he fumbles for

his spellbook)

They'll soon learn the price of

snaring Ergo the Magnificent.

Torquil walks a circle around Colwyn and Ynyr.

TORQUIL:

When your enemies outnumber you,

boy, craft is more profitable than

courage. Smile and go along and,

sooner or later, they will grow

careless. And then ...

(throat-cutting gesture)

... sst!

Colwyn sheaths his sword.

COLWYN:

(little smile)

I don't think you'll grow careless.

TORQUIL:

(grins)

Smart as well as quick. Now what do

you have to give us?

COLWYN:

Fame.

TORQUIL:

Fame?

(laughs)

Thank you, no. Fame is the burial

ground of contentment. Eat it and go

hungry; count it and go broke; seek

it and grow mad. Fame is what fools

yearn for and wise men shun.

COLWYN:

Fame is what you leave to your sons.

TORQUIL:

(taken aback)

How did you know I had sons?

COLWYN:

Because you would not rob if you had

no children to provide for.

TORQUIL:

Hah! You don't know me, boy.

COLWYN:

(fixes him with a look)

I know you.

YNYR:

(to Colwyn)

You choose these?

COLWYN:

Yes. They will be more help than

high-born barons.

TORQUIL:

They stand at the edge of the grave

and make jokes.

(shouts)

Do you know who I am, sprout? I am

Torquil, Lord of the forest. My men

follow no man but me, and I follow

no man at all.

COLWYN:

You will follow me.

TORQUIL:

(shifts his axe)

And in the few seconds before I dice

you to crow-food, tell me why I am

going to follow you.

COLWYN:

So your sons will speak of you to

your grandsons, and your grandsons

to their grandsons.

Torquil plunks the handle of his long battle-axe into the

ground, then folds his hands across the top of the blade and

rests his chin on his hands. He stares hard at Colwyn, who

returns his gaze calmly.

TORQUIL:

And where do you lead, boy?

COLWYN:

To the place where Death lives.

TORQUIL:

(grins)

It should be an interesting journey,

then.

COLWYN:

(answering smile)

That I promise you.

TORQUIL:

(to his men)

I compel no man to follow me on this

journey.

KEGAN:

We owe you our lives, Torquil. If

you follow the boy, so also do we.

Rate this script:2.7 / 3 votes