Pirate Wars Read Free Page A

pulling him along through the bog, through puddles and mud holes, over hard wooden edges, fish skeletons, and bones, which broke beneath him and tore his clothing and his skin. Once it seemed to him that his face was being brushed by grass—until he realized he was lying with his head on the matted fur of a lion cadaver.
    The cries of the wounded kobalin behind him became softer, turned to gurgling and sobbing. Then they broke off.
    Suddenly Griffin’s leg was free.
    Stuffy darkness surrounded him on all sides.
    Smacking steps to his right.
    Before he could spring up, claws seized his braids and pulled his head back into the mud. But still the kobalin did not kill Griffin. It snatched the saber from his victim with one grab. In a twinkling, Griffin was disarmed. Steel clattered in the distance. The kobalin had thrown the blade away.
    Dumb , thought Griffin. Kobalins are really terribly dumb.
    Not that this insight was of any help to him now.
    He tensed his neck muscles, supported himself on his arms, and sat up swiftly. There was a fearful jerk, and with a yell he realized that he had sacrificed patches of his scalp and at least one or two braids—they remained behind in his opponent’s claws. But he was free.
    Somehow he got onto his feet, while behind him the muscular kobalin arms snapped into emptiness like scissors.
    This time Griffin didn’t stop to fight. He’d learned his lesson. He ran, almost blind in the darkness. Suddenly in the blackness he saw a narrow strip of light, floating behind the parts of a wreck, which looked like huge ribs: Ebenezer had opened the magic door, a torch of light by which Griffin could orient himself in the darkness. The monk must have noted that the lantern was out. He knew that Griffin needed a signal that would point the direction to him.
    “One’s still alive!” Griffin called, panting, toward the doorway. “At least.”
    If he received an answer, it was lost in the smacking andsplashing of his steps. The kobalin storming behind Griffin was also now entangled in pieces of wrecks and trails of algae. A shrill gabbling sounded at Griffin’s back. Was the kobalin laughing? Or was he summoning other survivors of his brood?
    Griffin ran. Stumbled. Fell. Jumped up again and rushed on.
    He reached the foot of the hill. The door at the top stood wide open. Flickering light poured over the slope and the makeshift board steps. The door stood isolated at the highest point of the rise, merely a frame with an oak panel and, except for the brightness, betraying nothing of what could be found behind it. Quite certainly not a room, for the hill on the other side was empty. Nevertheless, the glow of the great fireplace fell through the frame.
    Where was Ebenezer?
    Griffin was now clambering up the steps on all fours. His boots were full of mud, and he was afraid of slipping off the boards if he didn’t support himself with his hands, too. He looked over his shoulder and saw the kobalin not six feet behind him—also on front and back claws, except that this posture looked natural for him. The light from the doorway bathed him in a scaly shimmer, an iridescent play of color. Even while climbing he waved his claws, trying to grab Griffin’s leg, feeling, snapping, and snarling.
    “Griffin!” Ebenezer’s voice. “Stay where you are!”
    Stay where he was? He wasn’t about to.
    “Watch out!”
    Something large flew over him, missing him by only ahairsbreadth. Because that did make him halt, it didn’t hit him. It hit the kobalin instead.
    There was a hollow klong , then the creature cracked backward onto the steps, finally lost his grip, and disappeared into the depths. Griffin turned around and saw him land at the edge of the light, caught between two timbers and half buried under a mighty sphere, almost as big as he was.
    Ebenezer’s globe! The monk must have rolled it out of the back room and flung it out the door with both hands.
    The kobalin stretched out a trembling claw, then the