Taggerung (Redwall, Book 14)
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Years ago, the vermin clan of Sawney Rath kidnapped one of Redwall's own-a baby otter, destined to become their "Taggerung," a warrior hero of ancient legend. But as young Tagg grows, he rebels against his destiny. The young otter journeys in search of his birthplace, a member of Sawney's clan always near, out to destroy the deserter. With the feisty mouse Nimbalo, Tagg fends off the avenging vermin, but can he find his way back to the Redwall family from whom he was separated so long ago? Here is all of the excitement and adventure a Redwall fan could wish for!
otterbabe. Sawney watched the little creature with a fondness which was almost fatherly. ‘Look at him, sleeping like a proper old riverdog. Did you see him tearing at the fish? Not much wrong with his appetite!’ Grissoul turned the babe’s paw lightly, exposing the birthmark. ‘It is interesting that fortune chose an otterbeast to be Taggerung. An intriguing choice.’ Sawney drew his knife. Holding it by the point, he placed the handle between the tiny paws. Deyna clasped it in his sleep. The
armed and free before me. If you are going to do anything, now would be the time to do it.’ Gruven’s nerve had already failed him. He knew he was a deadbeast if he lifted the sword. Yet if he was ever to become leader of the clan he could not lose face, so he played his ace card, hoping bluster and bragging would impress the fox warrior. Swelling his chest, he snarled aloud, ‘My name now is Gruven Zann Taggerung. Eight warriors left camp to track him with me. Only I have returned; the others lie
you carried the head until you reached the old camp and threw it away there.’ Gruven drank long and slow as he prepared an answer. ‘Oh, yes. That was where I first saw him. I tracked him north for three days before I killed him. Then I returned to the old camp, to see if anybeast had come back there. There were still no signs of Juska back at the camp, so I threw the head away.’ He waited with bated breath while Ruggan considered this. ‘I see. Then you found our tracks and followed them. Tell
‘Mama, Mama, the russet apples are falling!’ Squeaking and laughing, the Dibbuns raced after her. Broggle touched a spot between his ears ruefully. ‘What was all that about, Fwirl?’ The squirrelmaid shrugged. ‘I’ve no idea. Oh, look, there are harebells growing by the old wheelbarrow. Let’s take some to Cregga.’ Between them they gathered a small bunch of the delicate drooping blue flowers and carried them to the sunny spot by the northeast wall corner. Cregga’s grave was always bedecked with
slid it into his belt pouch. ‘Nothing right now, but let me think on it. What do you say we go down and discuss this over lunch? I think Gundil’s illness is catching. I’m beginning to feel a bit woozy up here.’ Friar Bobb was sitting with the rest of the audience in front of the west wallsteps, by the gatehouse. When the friends appeared he waved for them to sit down by him, whispering, ‘Sorry about lunch, I’ll fix something later. Come and enjoy yourselves. We’ve had some marvellous