Rakkety Tam: A Tale from Redwall
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There has never been a Redwall hero quite like Rakkety Tam, the roguish Highlander squirrel who sets off for Mossflower Wood on a mercenary errand and loses his heart to the charms of Redwall Abbey. And there's never been a villain quite like Gulo the Savage: a vicious beast-eating wolverine who descends upon the Abbey in search of a relic called the Walking Stone. Readers will cheer at the return of the Long Patrol, the antics of a renegade vole thief, and the emergence of a new champion to wield the sword of Martin. As fans of Brian Jacques and Redwall know, the adventures just keep getting bigger and bigger.
bag, Driftail relieved his captive of the belt and sickle sword. Grabbing some tough vines, he bound the prisoner’s paws together and slung water over the fox’s head to revive him. It took awhile for the strange creature to come around. He struggled briefly with his bonds, then looked up at the ugly, grinning faces surrounding him. Runneye sniggered nastily. “Heeheehee, gotcha self inna big troubles now, pretty white foxer!” Elbowing Runneye out of the way, Driftail leaned down and drew the
drooping. “What was that?” Armel yawned. “The path from last night. It runs straight with the direction we’re going. We’ve been struggling along through the woodlands all night, not knowing that the path was hardly a stone’s throw away. It must run southwest for quite a bit. So, Miss Puddenhead, who said that we should take to the woods because the path goes straight to the south?” The ottermaid imitated a snoring sound. “Not me, must have been you. Don’t disturb me, I’m asleep!” Armel lay
presented Ferdimond with Dauncey’s sling and pebble bag. “Take this along with you, and watch out for yourself.” He bowed gallantly. “I’ll be lookin’ out for you when I come back, if I may?” A faint smile creased Kersey’s lips. “Thank you, Mister De Mayne, that would please me.” Armel gave Tam a small satchel. “This is a few herbs and dressings in case you’re wounded, Tam.” He winked at the pretty squirrelmaid. “I’ll use ’em to bandage up Doogy’s mouth if he starts grumbling. Stay safe now,
Brigadier, what would you do with that goshawk?” Crumshaw toyed with his moustache. “I see what y’mean, Sister. Hmm, what t’do with the chap. Hah, I’ve just thought o’ the very thing—discipline!” He rose smartly and paced off wagging his swagger stick. “I say, you there, Turfill, or whatever y’flippin’ name is. Come with me! Liven y’self up now, laddie bird, I’ve got a job for you, wot!” The hawk’s gold-rimmed eye glared icily at the brigadier. “Karrraaa! This bird be named Tergen. What job
but to hear me tell the tale o’ that battle, ’twas a waste o’ time attendin’ it for the Long Patrol. Accordin’ to me, I won it single-pawed. Let ’em carry on with their tall tales, wot. They’re not doin’ harm to anybeast by boastin’. After a few days the excitement’ll wear off. Then one night they’ll cry themselves t’sleep, rememberin’ the pals they lost back there.” Tam nodded slowly. “Aye, I can remember doin’ that myself.” When they reached the hilltop, the Patrol could see the river far