The Long Patrol: A Tale from Redwall
Brian Jacques, Allan Curless
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
The murderous Rapscallion army is on the move. Dealt a humiliating defeat by Lady Cregga Rose Eyes, the Badger Lady of Salamandastron, who still pursues them, the Rapscallions are heading inland to take an even greater prize: the peaceful Abbey of Redwall. The elite fighting unit of hares, the Long Patrol, is called out to draw them off. At the forefront is the young hare Tammo, the lead sword in one of the most ferocious battles Redwall has ever faced?ready to fight to the death!
?[Jacques is] a masterful storyteller. . . . As in the other Redwall books, the combination of an absorbing plot, robust characterization, and detailed description make the novel a page-turner.?
?The Horn Book
resolutely. ‘Right, mate, what’s t’be done?’ Russa ruffled his ears, rather fondly. ‘Sleep’s to be done. Shouldn’t think they’ll be back tonight, but we’ll take turns standin’ guard. More likely they’ll try an’ ambush us out in the open tomorrow, so get y’sleep – you’ll need it.’ Night closed in on the little camp. The fire dimmed from burning flame to glowing embers, trees murmured and rustled, their foliage stirred by a westering wind. Tammo dreamed of his home, Camp Tussock. He saw the faces
done, marm?’ Tansy gestured to Diggum, and the Foremole answered for her. ‘Hurr, furstly us’n’s needs to foind out whoi ee be unsafe, on’y then’ll us be able to fixen ee wall.’ With Tansy’s permission, Arven was next to speak. ‘There’s no need for anybeast to worry, but we must set a few sensible rules for the safety of all. From tomorrow we will fence off an area isolatin’ the entire south wall. Please do not hang about near it. Carry on with your chores and pleasures as normal and see that
flatlands an’ keep y’r eyes peeled for vermin. When the blighters have recovered their nerve I wouldn’t be surprised if they chance another crack at us, wot!’ Equipment was packed away into haversacks and weapons brought to the ready as the Sergeant harangued them. ‘Right, you ’eard the h’officer, form up an’ stir yer stumps now!’ Grasshoppers rustled and bees hummed about early flowering saxifrage and heathers, and the sun shone boldly from a sky of cloudless blue. It was a glorious spring
and green figures retaliating, loosing pebbles from their own slings at the bold enemy below. Russa had reached the far side of the trees. She skipped nimbly up into a stately elm and turned towards the distant din of battle. Thrusting the hardwood stick into her mouth she bit down on it and took off like a fish skimming through water, building up her speed as she raced through the treetops. Bright eyes cut through the darkness as she travelled even faster, the limbs and leaves passing in a
raised ottertail. Far below, wispy tendrils of mist arose from where the sun’s warmth penetrated a deep rift, which ran like a jagged scar along the valley’s far edge. Small birds, redstart, stonechat and wheatear, chirruped and chattered, perching on gorse thorns with sure-clawed skill, bright beady eyes constantly searching for minute insects. Butterflies and bumblebees visited the flowers of the vale, and sunlight glinted off the iridescent wings of hoverflies seeking aphids. The life of the