By Brian Jacques
Acclaimed delusion author Brian Jacques back welcomes readers to the staggering global of Redwall.
Enslaved through the evil ferret King Agarno and his daughter, Princess Kurda, the courageous squirrelmaid Triss, in addition to Shogg the otter and Welfo the hedgehog, plans a bold get away through sea. In her flights, Triss occurs upon Redwall, and the abbey creatures find a new hero in her. somebody courageous sufficient to hold the sword of Martin and face the evil that threatens them.
"Scrumptious feasts, rollicking humor, swashbuckling heroes, trustworthy acquaintances, and treacherous villains magically mix via 3 intertwined action-packed plots into one unforgettable, spellbinding story." --VOYA
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Extra resources for Triss: A Tale from Redwall
You are inclined to the pore creature, Triss. I’m goin’ up on deck for a glance approximately, see if’n i will repair our place. ” It used to be absolutely evening, with only a sliver of moon, like a silvery nail paring, surrounded by means of stars in a cloudless sky. Shogg sat on the tiller, his head thrown again, exploring the numerous issues of starlight that dotted the velvet darkish skies in dizzying numbers. After it slow, the otter’s neck started to pain, yet he had made his selection. Pointing up at one vivid, nonetheless jewel of the evening, he spoke aloud to himself. “That’n’s the North celebrity, it’s acquired t’be! ” atmosphere the tiller heading in the right direction, he trimmed the one sail and commenced heading clear of the superstar. Triss tended to Welfo until eventually the hogmaid lay nonetheless. in order that she wouldn't roll out of the bunk back, the squirrelmaid lay down beside her. It used to be now not lengthy ahead of Triss closed her weary eyes and fell right into a shut eye. In her goals she observed the ocean, ever stressed, wave lapping upon wave, murmuring with that soothing noise that basically the enormous deeps can produce. progressively she realised voice was once calling her, softly before everything. “Triss . . . Trisscar, my daughter . . . I see you. ” A squirrel and a mouse have been floating in the direction of her, their paws now not touching the water, which flattened itself to make a direction for them. even though she couldn't keep in mind his face, Triss knew that the squirrel was once her father. She referred to as to him. “Father . . . Father! ” He smiled at her and pointed to the mouse. Triss felt tears spill down her face as she heard herself asserting, “Trisscar, i'm known as Trisscar? I by no means knew . . . ” similar to her father started to fade as he spoke back. “Drufo may have instructed you . . . whilst the day got here . . . ” He light altogether, and Triss used to be left by myself with the mouse. She sensed instantly that this used to be no usual mouse. He used to be clad in shining armour and held a wondrous sword, the like of which she had by no means noticeable. now not even the most effective blades in Princess Kurda’s armoury. The mouse had a kindly face, even supposing Triss may well see the sunshine of a warrior shining in his eyes. He reached out with the sword and touched her correct paw lightly with its tip. His voice was once hot and pleasant, yet stirring by some means. “Trisscar, that could be a identify for an excellent swordmaid. Sleep, my little Trisscar. Sleep! ” Then the imaginative and prescient used to be long gone and she or he descended into the comforting darkness of deep shut eye. It used to be vibrant day whilst she aroused from sleep. Welfo used to be nonetheless dozing, yet her respiring used to be shallow and laboured. Triss hauled herself stiffly from the bunk. Her mouth felt dry as a bone, her tongue swollen and awkward. Blundering up on deck, she stood dumbly, gazing Shogg. He was once sitting on the tiller, shredding the strands from a quick size of rope. It used to be numerous moments prior to he realised she used to be there. The otter blinked wearily. “Jus’ seein’ if i'll placed t’gether a fishin’ line. Don’t be aware of wot I’m imagined to use for bait. How’s Welfo t’day? ” The squirrelmaid sat down beside him, drawing her ragged dress approximately her within the moderate morning breeze. “Hmm, what? Oh, Welfo, she’s dozing.