Lord Brocktree: A Novel of Redwall

By Brian Jacques

Now an lively sequence on public television!

In which the effective badger warrior Lord Brocktreewith the aid of the lively younger haremaid Dottimust reclaim the mountain land of Salamandastron from the military of a villainous wildcat…

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Hootooh! you then wasted a while coming right here, longears. ’ Fleetscut had submit with adequate. ‘Just a tick there, featherbag, i believe you’re the only wishes a lesson in courtesy. It’s no blinkin’ ask yourself that different creatures keep away from comin’ right here, wot, y’bad-mannered outdated swindler. I wouldn’t provide the airborne dirt and dust off me paws after the way in which you’ve taken care of me! ’ a puff arose from the squirrels. Udara stalked slowly around the fireplace till his beak used to be point with the hare’s eye. ‘Kurruhum! it really is then, longears. you're a perilous beast – i've got slain many for only what you stated to me.

Fleetscut lay at the tough floor, the tongue putting dry from his mouth, footpaws nonetheless relocating in a working motion, kicking up small dustclouds. In his delirium he squinted at a rock, imagining it was once Lord Stonepaw looking at sternly at him. ‘Sire, there ain’t a hare nowheres t’be found,’ he croaked feebly. ‘I attempted, I did my good for you, yet unfortunately, lord, the younger hares are long gone from the land . . . ’ Fleetscut’s eyes glazed over and he fell again mindless. From a rocky outcrop a crow were observing the previous hare, ready.

Everybeast move! ’ Karangool, the guards within sight, Doomeye and the others scattered, leaving Trunn and Ripfang jointly, on my own at the shore. The tail flicked out and pulled the searat shut. ‘I won't slay you. i've got a half-cask of wine; it really is yours for those who inform me all. What did he seem like, what did he say, who used to be with him, what demeanour of beasts? inform me. ’ Ripfang secure and squinted up on the sunlight. ‘Er, an’ I’m nonetheless a cap’n, an’ me brother Doomeye too? ’ ‘Yes, in fact. Now inform me . . . please. ’ The searat pulled Trunn’s tail from around his neck.

Hurr! ’ while the shouting had died down, Lord Brocktree refused a number of deals for Dotti to wait feasts and events in her honour. He whisked the haremaid again to their camp underneath the willows. Deaf to her protestations and appeals for meals, Brocktree and Grenn ordered her to mattress down in a shrew logboat. in addition, they published sentries at the streambank, to make sure that she did as she used to be instructed. Log a Log Grenn used to be as stern a taskmistress as any badger. ‘You get a few sleep now, younger ’un. Fergit foodstuff.

What’s that they are saying on yon mountain, thou artwork a deadly creature. relaxation now, longears, drink a few soup an’ sleep. We’ll speak at the morrow. ’ relaxation was once the final proposal on Fleetscut’s brain, yet no had he inebriated part a beaker of mushroom soup than the vessel slipped from his paws and he went right into a deep shut eye. Morning and noontide got here and handed, and it used to be night whilst Fleetscut awoke. ‘How do thy paws believe? Sore, I’ll bet? ’ The outdated hare struggled to a sitting place, permitting Ruro to alter the dressings.

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