Loamhedge: A Tale from Redwall
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The sixteenth full length Redwall novel sheds light on the Abbey's ancient origins in a thrilling adventure. Loamhedge, the deserted Abbey, has been forgotten for countless seasons. What secrets do it's ruins hold? When it becomes clear that wheelchair-bound Martha might be cured by a formula buried there, two old warriors are inspired by the spirit of Martin the Warrior himself to go on a quest for the ancient Abbey and three young rebels are determined to go with them. Meanwhile. the giant badger Lonna Bowstripe thirsts for vengeance as he relentlessly pursues Raga Bl and his murdering crew of Searats...who are on their way to attack Redwall itself. The valiant Abbeybeasts must defend their home, but how can they, when their boldest warriors are away on their quest? Will Redwall fall to vermin invaders at last?
g’night!” Bragoon settled down with the sword close to paw. “I’ll stay awake for first watch, mates.” Toobledum’s voice came from under the hat. “You git some sleep, I’ve taken Bubbub off ’is lead. That likkle feller’s better’n any sentry, ’e’ll stand guard all night for ye.” Horty grinned with relief at Fenna. “Saves us a job, wot!” The squirrelmaid curled up in her cloak beneath the cart. “Indeed it does. Goodnight, Cooky.” The young hare’s ears shot up stiffly. “Cooky yourself, miss! Go
into the gatehouse and slammed the door. The timbers shook as an arrow hit the door, its barbed point showing through the wood. Firzin wailed, “We’re all deadbeasts if’n we stay in this place. There ain’t nowhere to ’ide from the stripedog!” One icy glare from his captain was sufficient to frighten the Searat into silence. Bol looked from one to the other, his face deadly calm, his voice low. “Wot’s the number o’ crew left d’ye reckon, Rinj?” The rat thought for a moment. “Just over a score,
her brother’s bandaged right footpaw, having noticed he was sporting a gallant limp. “You’ll get to know all about it later. But what happened to you, Horty, are you hurt?” Trying to look brave and nonchalant at the same time, Horty waffled. “Oh this, line o’ duty an’ all that, y’know!” Springald raised her eyebrows scathingly. “Line of duty, my tail! You great fibber, tell the truth. He was messing about with Martin’s sword, showing off to the shrews, when he dropped it, tripped up and cut his
it, mate, nice an’ snug, see!” The small fox lay down, gesturing. “There’s plenty o’ room for both of us. I can guard ye good from here, mate.” Skrodd shook his head disapprovingly. “Nah, ye go an’ lay by the fire with the others. That’ll put ye halfway twixt me’n Dargle. But don’t go sleepin’, keep yore eyes peeled on those ferns where he’s layin’ low. Soon as Dargle makes a move, come runnin’ an’ let me know.” Little Redd rose reluctantly. “I kin watch him just as well if’n I stop ’ere with
disbelievingly. “You, Little Redd, took off Dargle’s block in one go?” Redd was getting the feel of the heavy sword now. He took a pace back, then leaped forward, swinging the cutlass in both paws, shouting fiercely. “Aye, one swipe! D’ye want me to show ye how? I’m the chief now, this sword’s mine, I killed to get it!” He was gratified to see fear shining from Crinktail’s eyes as she backed away from him swiftly. “No, no,” she pleaded, “if you say ye did it, I’m not one to argue with ye!”