[Redwall 06] - Martin the Warrior by Brian Jacques

Author:Brian Jacques [Jacques, Brian]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2010-10-09T19:18:09.095000+00:00

fibber, miss! You were coming this way because a band of ruffians

were chasing you."

"O them!" Celandine tossed her tail huffily. "I knew they wouldn't

get me!"

Felldoh turned around from the dune rim. "But how did you know?

"

Celandine clasped both his paws, fluttering her eyelids wildly.

"Because I knew in my heart that my brave Felldoh would come to my

rescue, and you did."

Rowanoak smiled and shook her huge head. "Come on, brave

Felldoh, let's get this ruthless charmer back to camp!"

Felldoh felt his face burning as Celandine hung on his paws,

praising him outrageously.

"You're so strong, so courageous, and so accurate with your sharp

little sticks. Ooh look, I pricked my paw on one!

When they had gone, Brome emerged from hiding. He had followed

Felldoh with the intention of joining him, until the badger and the

hare decided to help his friend. Brome had stayed out of sight,

knowing that Ballaw and Rowanoak would have sent him packing,

back to camp. So he secreted himself in a clump of tor grass and

watched them rescuing Celandine. Brome had grown a lot bolder since

his escape from Marshank. He admired Felldoh and wanted to be like

him, but he was treated as a young one in the camp. Brome climbed

the dune and peered down on the three dead corsairs, imagining

himself launching lances alongside Felldoh and simmering with

resentment at being left out.

He slid down the dune on his bottom and sat looking at the three

lifeless figures. After a while the young mouse ventured to pick up the

sword which lay near Gritter. He swung it in the air, trying a few fancy

strokes, an idea forming in his head as he did. There were still a good

number of slaves to be freed from Marshank. Imagine the looks on the

faces of Felldoh, Ballaw and Rowanoak if he, Brome, came marching

back with a score or so of slaves that he had rescued.

The more Brome swung the sword the more he liked the idea. He

would do it!

Arming himself with the sword and a dagger from Floater's belt, he

dressed himself up in an assortment of corsair gear which he took

from the three bodies. Smudging up his face with a few pawfuls of

dust, Brome pulled the brim of Crableg's floppy hat down at a rakish

angle and set off for Fortress Marshank. Swaggering along like a

villainous searat, he practised the brogue.

"Haharr, I'm Bucktail, as good a matey that ever sailed the seas an'

plundered landlubbers. Haharr an' hoho!"

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