The Legend of Luke: A Tale from Redwall
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In this twelfth book of the masterful Redwall epic, storyteller Brian Jacques goes back in time to the days before Redwall, revealing with dramatic poignancy the legend of the first of the magnificent Redwall warriors--Luke, father of Martin.
Joined by Trimp the Hedgehog, Dinny Foremole, and Gonff--the ever-mischievous Prince of Mousethieves--it is that legend Martin hopes to discover when he embarks on a perilous journey to the northland shore, where his father abandoned him as a child. There, within the carcass of a great red ship--broken in half and wedged high up between pillars of stone--he finally uncovers what he has been searching for: the true story of the evil pirate stoat, Vilu Daskar, and the valiant warrior who pursued him relentlessly over the high seas, seeking to destroy Vilu at all costs, even if it meant deserting his only son.
Book Three: A Warrior’s Legacy Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Epilogue About the Author Also by Brian Jacques Copyright About the Book Martin the Warrior leaves Redwall Abbey on a journey to discover the truth about Luke, the father he barely knew. His voyage takes him home to the northland shore where, from a dusty old book, he learns of Luke’s dramatic pursuit of the evil pirate stoat, Vilu Daskar. A TALE OF REDWALL THE LEGEND OF LUKE
barley and carrot broth. Vurg lay behind them, close to the oven, wrapped snugly in his cloak, sleeping off the feast he had consumed. Gonff sat Chugger on his lap, allowing him to steal his beaker of broth. ‘You finish that all up, matey, an’ don’t be dashin’ about kickin’ up a rumpus. Old Vurg needs lots o’ sleep. Well, Martin, did y’ find out what you needed to know from the ole feller, about yore dad an’ so on?’ Martin shook his head as he watched Vurg sleeping. ‘Didn’t want to rush him.
an’ to the wonderful vittles an’ good hospitality showed to us by the crew of the Arfship!’ Everybeast raised their beakers and drank cheerfully. As they ate, Furmo could not resist asking the question which was puzzling him greatly. ‘Tell me, Vurg, ’ow did the for’ard half of a great ship land up ’ere? It just don’t seem possible.’ Vurg munched shrewbread and cheese as he explained. ‘Yore right, mate, I wouldn’t ’ave believed it meself if’n I hadn’t been aboard at the time, but ’ere’s how it
bow their heads before the master of the red ship. Vilu stayed silent until the pitiful heap of provisions and plunder was piled in front of him. Lazily the stoat’s eyes flicked over the crewbeasts standing around the pile. ‘Is this the best you could do?’ One, a burly weasel called Rippjaw, shrugged. ‘Dat’s all we be findin’, cap’n!’ Vilu stood slowly, his eyes fixed on a necklace of yellow beads, which Rippjaw sported about his neck. ‘So, where did you get that trinket, my illiterate
didn’t it! Oh I say, nothin’ to ruin a perfect evenin’ like a great pack o’ sharks. Just look at that lot!’ Vurg saw the ominous fins cutting through the water until they surrounded the raft. Suddenly the whole craft swayed threateningly as Bolwag flopped aboard. Beau threw himself on top of the sea lion, grabbing at his slippery hide with all paws and roaring heroically. ‘I’ve got you, old fellow. They’ll have t’deal with me before I’ll let ’em get to you. Ahoy an’ belay, you slabsided swabs.