Rumble in the Jungle (Blood Bowl Book 4) by Matt Forbeck

Author:Matt Forbeck [Forbeck, Matt]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Black Library
Published: 2015-03-15T00:00:00+00:00

Twenty

Doarke’s boat wasn’t much larger than the Fanatic’s dinghy. ‘She’s got a sail,’ Jiminy said, pointing at the single mast, which stood bare, ‘but we’re heading into the wind and rough seas. Better to put our backs into it for such a short voyage.’

‘Whose backs?’ Dunk asked. Jiminy pointed to the four oars hanging from the side of the boat, and grinned.

Dunk, Spinne, Dirk and Lästiges sat in the middle, working the oars. Slick sat up front, along with Jiminy, who beat out a time for the rowers on the front of his guitar, and then used the rhythm to segue into a cheery song about boat drinks adorned with tiny umbrellas.

Edgar floated along behind the craft. M’Grash used him like a gigantic kickboard, propelling them both through the water.

The Island of Sacrifices seemed much like Columbo’s Island, save for the greeting party. Instead of Mr Doarke, Tat II, and their band, a sole pygmy halfling with a tubby belly and bronzed skin stood on the shore, waiting for the boat to arrive. He wore a grass skirt that reached below his knees, and nothing else.

Edgar and M’Grash hit the beach first. The ogre helped tip the treeman upright again, and then went back to haul the boat clear onto dry land. The people inside had to hold on for their lives. Jiminy hadn’t been quite ready for the big tug, and he went tumbling off into the surf. He arose a moment later, holding the guitar aloft like a trophy, a bewildered crab hanging from the strings.

‘That’s some arm you got there,’ Jiminy said to M’Grash. ‘You can crew my boat any time.’

Seeing that the singer was all right, Dunk turned to the tiny halfling, who had stood silent and still as a statue through their arrival. He strode up to the pygmy halfling and knelt before him, crouching over farther to be able to face him eye to eye.

‘I’m told you have our friends,’ Dunk said, ‘the people from the big ship.’

The pygmy halfling nodded.

‘We would like you to set them free.’

The pygmy halfling shook his head.

Dunk thrust his thumb over his shoulder at M’Grash. ‘Then give me one good reason why I shouldn’t have my friend dropkick you onto the next island.’

The pygmy halfling craned his neck back to stare up the full height of the ogre. He giggled nervously.

‘Then you will never see your friends.’

‘Have you already eaten them?’

The pygmy halfling pursed his lips. ‘We wanted to, but they are still sleeping. They taste better if they’re scared when they go into the pot.’

Dunk waved M’Grash over.

‘What’s your name?’ he asked the pygmy halfling.

‘Big Richard.’

‘Thanks for coming out to say hello, Richard,’ Dunk said. ‘Goodbye.’

As the ogre reached down for the pygmy halfling, the little man squealed. ‘Wait! We don’t have to eat your friends. We don’t want to eat your friends.’

Dunk signalled for M’Grash to stop, but not until after the ogre had grabbed Big Richard by the scruff of his well-tanned neck.

‘Explain,’ Dunk said.

‘We just want to live.

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