By Brian Jacques
During this 12th ebook of the masterful Redwall epic, storyteller Brian Jacques is going again in time to the times sooner than Redwall, revealing with dramatic poignancy the legend of the 1st of the terrific Redwall warriors--Luke, father of Martin.
Joined through Trimp the Hedgehog, Dinny Foremole, and Gonff--the ever-mischievous Prince of Mousethieves--it is that legend Martin hopes to find while he embarks on a deadly trip to the northland shore, the place his father deserted him as a baby. There, in the carcass of a very good crimson ship--broken in part and wedged excessive up among pillars of stone--he eventually uncovers what he has been trying to find: the real tale of the evil pirate stoat, Vilu Daskar, and the valiant warrior who pursued him relentlessly over the excessive seas, looking to break Vilu in any respect expenses, whether it intended deserting his basically son.
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Extra info for The Legend of Luke: A Tale from Redwall
I’ll identify the stew. positioned it down the following! ’ They watched as Luke ladled a component into his bowl. Blowing on a spoonful he sampled it gingerly, along with his group reckoning on anxiously. Bravely Luke chewed on the stew, his face expressionless. He placed down the spoon and took a deep draught of ale. all of them spoke the notice right now. ‘Well? ’ Luke picked whatever from among his enamel and checked out it quizzically earlier than returning his verdict. ‘I imagine it's going to be referred to as crunchy barley, part cooked carrot lump, a ways too salty ’otwater stew. So if you’ll excuse me I’ll simply follow oatcake an’ ale for tonight’s meal, friends. consume up, an’ see the way you lot love it! ’ Luke wandered out on deck together with his frugal meal. ‘I’ll take the tiller for your time, mate. You pass an’ get somethin’ to consume. ’ Denno instantly stopped staring at on the peaceable moonflaked waves and relinquished his watch. ‘Certainly smelled nice once they carried it to the cabin, Luke. Thankee, mate. I’ll take pleasure in a few o’ that stew. ’ Luke smiled wryly. ‘Oh aye, I’m yes you'll! ’ smooth pastel-hued skies heralded the sunrise. A mouse named Cordle dozed on the tiller, a canteen of water held loosely in his paw. Coll got here to alleviate him, sipping from a beaker. ‘Huh, fantastic one you're, sleepin’ on watch. sturdy task Luke by no means stuck ye or he’d ’ave whacked yore tail off! ’ Cordle blinked sleepily and took a brief swig of water. ‘Leastways whereas I’m sleepin’ I’m now not drinkin’. I inform ye, Coll, I by no means drank rather a lot water in all me existence! ’ ‘Aye, not more o’ that blinkin’ stew fer me, mate. You could’ve stood a spoon up within the salt that went into it! If we catch any Sea Rogues, I reckon we must always feed it to ’em, that’d train ’em a lesson. ’ yet Cordle used to be now not listening – he was once staring eagerly out to sea. ‘What’s up, Cordle? ’ ‘Look, land! I’m certain of it, that’s land of a few variety lifeless forward. Laaaaand hoooooooo! ’ immediately the send got here alive. The mousecrew tumbled from their bunks and staggered out on deck, rubbing sleep from their eyes as they the outstretched paw of Cordle. ‘It’s land! Land! ’ ‘Dead forward, Luke. Cordle’s noticed land! ’ Luke climbed to the bowsprit and considered the darkish blot at the horizon. ‘Aye, ’tis land definite adequate, an island via the glance of it. take up the bow an’ mainsails, Coll, an’ steer north. We’ll sail in nice’n’easy around the different facet of that island. No experience in chargin’ at it complete sail. correct, friends, i would like you all armed an’ alert. Cordle, Denno, Dulam, stick with the send an’ shield it shut, the remainder of you’ll come ashore with me. Make no noise, tread cautious an’ stick with my lead. There’s no tellin’ what we'd meet! ’ The Sayna dropped anchor in a sheltered inlet at the island’s west part at early noontide. It was once sunny, silent and windless. Luke inspected the excessive rocks surrounding the cove. Seabirds nested within the crags underneath a jumble of timber and crops starting to be at the clifftops. hiking over the ship’s aspect, the shore get together waded via transparent sunwarmed shallows to a slender strip of sandy seashore. Vurg gripped his spear tight, whispering to Luke, ‘I don’t love it, mate.