Loamhedge (Redwall Series #16) [NOOK Book]

Overview

In this sixteenth Redwall adventure, Martha Braebuck, a young hare-maid, wheelchair bound since infancy, wonders about a mysterious old poem relating to the ancient ...
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Loamhedge (Redwall Series #16)

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Overview

In this sixteenth Redwall adventure, Martha Braebuck, a young hare-maid, wheelchair bound since infancy, wonders about a mysterious old poem relating to the ancient abbey of Loamhedge--and whether it may hold the key to her cure.



 



For ages 9 and above.

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Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly
Brian Jacques's Redwall carries on with Loamhedge, a deserted abbey that a wheelchair-bound young hare-maid thinks could hold a cure to her lame condition. Two warriors traveling back to Redwall agree to seek out the legendary place, but unwittingly leave Redwall Abbey vulnerable to vermin intruders. Copyright 2003 Reed Business Information.
Children's Literature
"Best ever" is the way at least one young Redwall fan described Loamhedge to his librarian. This 16th book in the "Redwall" series tells the story of Martha Braebuck, a spunky, resourceful haremaid, who has had to use a wheelchair since she was very young, and of an odd quintet who go on a hazardous quest to Loamhedge, where they hope to find the secret to help Martha learn to walk. Enemies assault Redwall while adversaries often threaten the questing quintet. But between their own ingenuity and old friends and new, who come just at the right moment, the Redwallers get through many perilous situations. Surely many readers of this exciting, heroic story will agree with the young fan that this is the best ever. Although this book stands very well on its own, a reader who has not read anything else in the series, will miss out on reading pleasure by not starting with "Redwall," the first book to tell the thrilling adventures of those endearing woodland creatures who inhabit Redwall Abbey and the enemies who threaten their peaceful lifestyle. Mr. Jacques says that his style of writing is so vividly descriptive because he wrote the first stories for children at a school for the blind and he wanted them to "see" his settings. His knack for lyrical prose and clever songs within the story probably grow out of his love of opera. The author's web site, www.redwall.org, adds intriguing background and should not be missed by any fan. 2003, Philomel Books, Ages 9 up.
— Janet Crane Barley
KLIATT
A young haremaid has been confined to a wheelchair all her life, but a mysterious poem that refers to a long-deserted abbey named Loamhedge hints at a cure for her paralysis. Two aging Redwall warriors, an otter and a squirrel, head off on a dangerous quest to find this ancient place and the cure, accompanied by three eager but inexperienced young adventurers. Meanwhile, a giant badger seeks revenge on the vile Searats who killed another badger and wounded him. When the Searats besiege Redwall Abbey, the fierce badger comes to the aid of its residents. In between the battles and the adventures, there is much feasting, singing, and humor (one of the adventurers speaks just like Bertie Wooster.) Some of the characters speak in heavy British dialect; for example, "'Yur, Miz Marth', do ee singen us'n's ee song?'" This latest volume in Jacques' series about brave woodland creatures battling nasty vermin will be a treat for Redwall and fantasy fans; it's not necessary to have read any of the others in the saga to enjoy this suspenseful, action-filled title. Female characters are portrayed as being as brave and bold in battle as the males, making this series equally appealing to both genders. Black-and-white drawings highlight each chapter opening. (A Tale From Redwall). KLIATT Codes: JSA*; Exceptional book, recommended for junior and senior high school students, advanced students, and adults. 2003, Penguin Putnam, Philomel, 432p. illus.,
— Paula Rohrlick
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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9781101220245
  • Publisher: Penguin Group (USA)
  • Publication date: 8/31/2004
  • Series: Redwall Series , #16
  • Sold by: Penguin Group
  • Format: eBook
  • Pages: 400
  • Sales rank: 171,568
  • File size: 2 MB

Meet the Author

Brian  Jacques
"I sometimes think it ironic for an ex-seaman, longshoreman, truck driver,
policeman, bus driver, etc., to find success writing children's novels," says Brian Jacques (pronounced "Jakes"). Yet it is all too true. With the publication of his first
children's book in 1987, the award-winning Redwall, Jacques' fresh talent has received exceptional praise from reviewers in the United States and England. Newbery Award winner Lloyd Alexander called it "a fine work, literate, witty, filled with the
excitement of genuine storytelling. Young people will surely be captivated. I hope they give their elders a chance to share the delights."



A well-known radio personality in his native Liverpool--as well as an actor, stand-up comic, and playwright--Brian Jacques is the host of "Jakestown" on BBC Radio Merseyside. Ever the performer, Jacques is well-known for applying his acting and entertainment background to his lively presentations to legions of young fans at schools
across the United States and England.



Brian Jacques was born in Liverpool, England on June 15th, 1939. Along with forty percent of the population of Liverpool, his ancestral roots are in Ireland, County Cork to be exact.


He grew up in the area around the Liverpool docks. His interest in adventure stories began at an early age with reading the books of: Daniel Defoe, Sir Henry Rider Haggard, Arthur Conan Doyle, Sir Thomas Malory, Robert Michael Ballantyne, Robert Louis Stevenson, Edgar Rice Burroughs, and Kenneth Grahame. He attended St. John's School, an inner city school that had its playground on the roof. On his first day at St. John's, at the age of ten, he had an experience that marked his potential as a writer. When given an assignment of writing a story about animals, he wrote about the bird that cleaned a crocodile's teeth. The teacher could not, and would not, believe that a ten year old could write that well. When young Brian refused to falsely say that he had copied the story, he was caned as "a liar". He had always loved to write, but it was only then, that he realized that he had a talent for writing.



Some teachers at St. John's proved to be good role models. As Mr. Jacques recalls:



"My favourite teacher was Mr. Austin Thomas. He looked like Lee Marvin. Big Man. A Captain in World War II. He came to school on a big bush bike with the haversack on back. He was a man's man. Always fair. I was fourteen at the time when Mr. Thomas introduced the class to poetry and Greek literature. (Because of him, I saved seven shillings and sixpence to buy The Iliad and The Odyssey at this dusty used book shop.)"



This interest in poetry extended to Wordsworth, Tennyson, and Goldsmith.
It was also at St. John's that Brian met a teacher, Alan Durband (who also taught two Beatles, Paul McCartney and George Harrison), who, more than thirty years later would bring about a major change in his life.



After Brian finished school at fifteen, he set out to find adventure as a merchant seaman. He travelled to many far away ports, including New York, Valparaiso, San Francisco, and Yokohama. Tiring of the lonely life of a sailor, he returned to Liverpool where he worked as a railway fireman, a longshoreman, a long-distance truck driver, a bus driver, a boxer, a bobby (Police Constable 216D), a postmaster, and a stand-up comic.



Penguin mourns the passing of celebrated children’s book author Brian Jacques

















Biography

The drawings that open the chapters in a Redwall book may look sweet, but Brian Jacques' fantasies are not for the faint of heart. Adventure, peril, betrayal, and downright slaughter abound in these hefty novels about the creatures -- mice, hares, moles, badgers, and sparrows -- who inhabit Redwall Abbey in medieval England.

Brian Jacques has had a life nearly as exciting as that of some of his characters: After dropping out of school in his native Liverpool at the age of 15, he traveled the world as a merchant seaman, visiting ports from America to Asia. Upon returning to England, he held a wide variety of jobs, from railway fireman to boxer among them. In the 1960s, he and his two brothers formed the Liverpool Fishermen, a folksinging group. Jacques also tried his hand as a playwright, producing several stage plays -- Brown Bitter, Wet Nellies, Scouse – about native Liverpudlians.

The Redwall stories, which were to earn him legions of fans, were born out of his time as a volunteer storyteller at the Royal Wavertree School for the Blind in Liverpool. Jacques maintains that his detailed writing style was developed here; he was forced to be as descriptive as possible, so his audience would be able to experience his stories as if they could see. He created the first Redwall story as a gift to the children of the school, but never intended to publish it commercially. Fortunately for his many fans on both sides of the Atlantic, a friend sent his first manuscript to a publisher, and the rousing series took off in England in 1986 and in the U.S. the following year with Redwall.

Jacques takes issue with the notion that his books are "fantasy" fiction, a description that he says "smacks of swords and sorcery and dungeons and dragons. . . . I like to think of my books as old-fashioned adventures that happened ‘Once upon a time, long ago and far away.'"

The novels appeal generally to an audience of nine- to fifteen-year-olds, but have admirers both younger and older. The tales pivot on the conflict between good and evil; good invariably triumphs. Indeed, morality issues are always clear in Jacques' books: cruelty, greed, and avarice are eradicated in all forms; bravery, loyalty, and resourcefulness reap rewards aplenty. When it comes to characters, though, Jacques is less simplistic: Martin the Warrior, who through his courage and cunning rose to become the noblest hero in the land, is given to impetuousness, and the miscreant Cluny has both good and bad sides, a la Long John Silver.

For female readers, the Redwall books can be extra satisfying. His female creatures are as adventurous as the males: they don't faint into their male counterparts' arms, but explore, swashbuckle, and rescue on their own. In Mariel of Redwall (1991), the courageous girl mousechild Mariel, thrown overboard by the Gabool, leader of the evil pirate Searats, exacts her own brand of revenge.

Jacques' usually swift pace sometimes comes to a slogging halt with extraordinarily detailed descriptions of the legendary Redwall feasts, right down to the last acorn and drop of buttercup and honey cordial. But the author is redeemed by his delicate interweaving of subplots, his memorable menagerie, his rollicking sense of adventure, and his ability to transport the reader into an entirely different world, a world that, as one critic for The New York Times put it, "is both an incredible and ingratiating place, one to which readers will doubtless cheerfully return."

Good To Know

Brian Jacques wrote his books in longhand or on a manual typewriter, or, if the weather permits, outdoors.

Despite his success as an author, Jacques continued to broadcast the weekly radio show, Jakestown, that he hosted before he wrote the Redwall books.

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    1. Date of Birth:
      June 15, 1939
    2. Place of Birth:
      Liverpool, England
    1. Date of Death:
      February 5, 2011
    2. Place of Death:
      Liverpool, England
    1. Education:
      St. John’s School, Liverpool, England
    2. Website:

Read an Excerpt

Loamhedge


By Brian Jacques

PHILOMEL BOOKS

Copyright © 2003 The Redwall La Dita Co., Ltd.
All right reserved.

ISBN: 0399237240


Chapter One

Lashing rain, driven by harsh biting winds from the sea, scoured the land from the bleak salt marshes to the stunted scrub forest. Abruc the sea otter bent against the strain of a loaded rush basket. It was tied to his shoulders and belted across his brow to stop it from spilling backward.

Holding on to his father's paw, young Stugg trotted alongside, plying his parent with interminable questions, which Abruc did his best to answer.

"H'are you veddy veddy strong?" Scrunching his eyes against the wind, Abruc could not help smiling at his inquisitive little son. "I have t'be strong. I've got to feed you, your mamma an' the whole family. That's my job, I'm a father."

Stugg sucked his free paw, digesting this information whilst he thought up another question. "Den why can't Stugg sit atop of your basket no more?"

Abruc adjusted the belt to ease the strain on his neck. "Because you've growed since last season. Yore gettin' to be a big feller now, a fine lump of an otter. Soon you'll be carryin' yore ole dad an' the basket. Let's put a move on, Stugg, so we can make it into the woods by dark. It'll be good to take a rest out o' this weather."

With the sound of the grey northeast sea pounding in their ears, both the sea otters squelched through the desolate salt marshes toward the weather-bent scrub forest.

Daylight ebbed into early evening as they entered the shelter of the trees. With a grunt of relief, Abruc swung his basket to the ground. It was brimfull of edible seaweed, scallops, mussels and shrimp-a full two days' work, gleaned from the coast of the barren northeast waters. Abruc sat on a fallen pine. Sensing his father's weariness, Stugg climbed up behind him and began gently rubbing his brow.

Abruc relaxed, sighing gratefully. "Hmmmm, that's nice. I was beginnin' to think that strap'd cut the top off me skull. Huh, where'd I be then?"

Stugg giggled. "Wiv a half offa head, silly ole farder!" The sea otter cautioned his son. "Hush now, not so loud. There might be Coast Raiders about. Huh, they'd cut the tops off'n our skulls, just to watch us die."

Wide-eyed, Stugg crouched down against his father, speaking in a hushed whisper. "Mamma says Coaster Raiders be's naughty vermints!"

His father pushed dry pine needles into a small heap, shaking his head grimly. "Naughty ain't the word for that scum. They're evil, cold-blooded murderers. Cruelty is just fun to the likes o' them. Right, young 'un, I suppose yore hungry now?"

Nodding eagerly, Stugg whispered, "I'm starfished!" Abruc chuckled. Starfished was a word all the young ones used, a cross twixt starving and famished.

He patted Stugg's head fondly. "Nothin' worse'n a starfished otter. You stay here, keep yore eyes'n'ears open, an' lay low. I'll go an' find us a snug berth for the night."

He pulled a sack from under his cloak, tossing it to his son. "Sort through the rest of those rations an' see wot you want for supper. I'll be back soon."

Abruc knew the woods well, he recalled a spot not too far off. It was a good dry place, sheltered by a rock ledge. Silent as a night breeze, he weaved his way through the dark, twisted trees, straight to the exact location. He had camped there before. Halting slightly short of his destination, he paused. Something did not feel quite right about the area. Abruc sniffed the air and listened carefully, his animal instinct aroused. He caught the faint sound of ragged breathing. Drawing his long dagger, he crept forward, peering keenly into the shadows, his neck hairs bristling.

For supper Stugg had selected two flat loaves, some of his mamma's apple and blackberry preserve and their last flask of plum cordial. If his father lit a fire, they could make toasted preserve sandwiches and warm cordial. The young otter was a pretty fair cook, often having helped his mamma to prepare meals. There was not much else to do but wait in silence for his father's return. Stugg set out the food and sat next to the basket of supplies.

Abruc came speeding out of the darkness to his son's side. Crouching beside Stugg, he gripped his paws tightly. The sea otter's voice was urgent and breathless from running.

"Listen carefully, little mate. Could you find yore way back home to our holt on yore own?" Stugg was taken aback by the unusual request. "Er, I fink so, what's a matter, farder?" Abruc gripped his son's paws tighter. His voice sounded harsh. "Answer me-yes or no! Could you find yore way back home?" Stugg had never seen his father like this. He nodded, his own voice sounding small and scared. "Yes, Stugg know d'way!" Abruc released the young otter's paws. "Good, now here's wot y'must do, son. Find Shoredog. Tell him to bring the crew to the spot by the rock ledge, he'll know where I mean. Say that they best bring rope, canvas an' poles. Enough t'make a stretcher to carry a wounded, giant stripedog. That's if'n he's still alive when they reach here."

Words poured from Stugg's mouth like running water. "A giant, a stripedog, a wounded one? I never see'd a giant stripedog afore! What happened? Will he get deaded ..." Abruc grabbed Stugg and shook him, something he had ever done before. He hissed at him through clenched teeth. "Shut yore mouth, son! Don't stand here askin' questions! Go now, run, don't stop for anythin'. The life of another creature depends on you. Go!"

Young Stugg took off like a madbeast, pine needles scattering from under his paws as he tore homeward through the nighttime forest. Abruc watched until his son was out of sight, then gathered up their belongings and dashed back to the camp beneath the ledge.

Swiftly he heaped dry pine needles and cones with a few twigs. Using the steel of his knife blade against a chunk of flint, he soon had a small fire burning. It was sheltered by the overhanging rock and could not be seen from a reasonable distance. Abruc viewed the scene around him. Two badgers, one very old, the other about two seasons into his adult growth, lay stretched out, side by side. Small and grizzled, the oldest of the pair was obviously dead, slain by various weapon thrusts. As he turned to the younger badger, a brief glance at the churned-up ground and the blood-flecked rock confirmed the sea otter's suspicions. His jaw clenched angrily. "Dirty murderin' Raiders!"

The younger badger was still alive. Abruc had seen one or two badgers in his lifetime, but not as big as this fellow. He was truly a giant-tall, deep of chest and broadbacked with massive paws and powerfully muscled limbs.

The sea otter winced as he inspected the fearsome wound to the badger's head. A long jagged slash, from eartip to neck, had ripped across the badger's face. Narrowly missing the eye, it had ploughed across the brow, through the wide-striped muzzle, across the jaw line to the side of the creature's throat.

Abruc, with only a limited knowledge of healing, staunched the blood with his cloak. Lifting the badger's head, he cradled it in his lap, dabbing away at the dreadful rift and murmuring to the unconscious beast.

"Seasons o' salt, matey, 'tis a miracle yore still alive! Y'must have a skull made o' rock. I know you can't hear me, but don't worry, big feller, our crew will do the best we can for ye. There's one or two good healers at our holt."

Abruc sat rambling away to the senseless badger, knowing he could do little else until help arrived.

It was close to midnight. Rainladen wind hissed through the scrub forest, carrying with it salt spray from the thundering seas. Beside the guttering embers of his little fire, Abruc had dozed off, still holding the badger's head.

At the front of the otter crew, Shoredog pointed with his lantern, hurrying forward. "There they are, mates!"

Little Stugg reached his father first. "I bringed them, farder!"

Abruc patted the youngster's paw. "Yore a good ole scout. Unnh, somebeast get me out from under this giant's head. Me limbs have gone asleep on me from holdin' his weight."

Willing paws assisted him upright. Shoredog shook his head as he viewed the injured badger. "Great seasons, lookit the mess the pore creature's in. I fears there ain't much hope for 'im. I never set eyes on a wound bad as that 'un!"

Stugg caught sight of his mother and tugged at her paw. "Issa giant stripedog goin' to die, mamma?"

Abruc's wife Marinu nodded at Shoredog's grandma, Sork. "Not if'n we can help it, Stugg. Come on, crew, get some warm blankets around that badger an' strap him to a stretcher. Easy now, don't jolt the pore beast too much."

Everybeast knew that Marinu and Sork were the best healers in all the southeast.

Stugg grinned broadly. Now that he had succeeded in his mission, he proceeded to take charge of the situation, striding about and issuing orders. "You all hear my mamma, pick dat stripedog up careful!"

Marinu was about to pull her son to one side when Abruc murmured to her, "Let the young 'un be, he did well tonight."

As the otter crew manoeuvred the huge badger onto the huge stretcher, Shoredog gave a surprised bark. "Blood'n'thunder, lookit that!"

Beneath the injured creature a mighty bow and a quiver of long arrows lay half covered in the loose sand and pine needles. The badger had fallen backward upon the bow, his hefty bulk breaking the weapon in two pieces. One jagged half was stuck into his hip. Marinu halted the bearers until she and Sork had extracted the splintered yew wood. The big fellow grunted faintly as they padded and dressed the wound.

Stugg jumped up and down triumphantly. "He be's alive, d'stripedog maked noise!"

Old Sork looped the birchbark quiver over Stugg's head. It scraped the ground, the arrows were taller than he. Sork shooed the young one aside. "Aye, mayhap he is. Now you carry those an' stay out the way."

A score of otters bore the badger off on a litter of pine poles, sailcloth and rope, padded with dead grass and soft moss. Stugg stayed behind with his father and Shoredog to bury the dead badger. It was only a shallow grave, but they found slabs of rock to top it off with. Abruc wedged the two pieces of broken bow, with the string still joining them, into the foot of the grave. They would serve as a marker. All three sea otters gazed down at the sad resting place.

Abruc shook his head. "Pore old beast, we don't even know wot name he went by. He looked weak, an' small. A badger that age should've spent out his seasons restin' in the sun. I wonder wot kin he was t'the big 'un. Mebbe his father?"

Stugg pressed his face against Abruc and wept. He could not imagine anybeast losing a father. He sobbed brokenly. "Who would kill someone's farder like that?"

Shoredog looked up from smoothing the earth around the stones. "Only beast I knows who kills like that is Raga Bol." The name struck fear into Abruc. "Raga Bol! Has he been here?" Shoredog stood upright, dusting off his paws. "While you an' Stugg were gone, Rurff the grey seal visited our holt. He saw the Searats' ship wrecked on the rocks, further north up the coast. Raga Bol an' about fifty vermin crew came ashore. They headed down this way, but pickin's are scarce on this northeast coast, so they've probably marched inland. They ain't got a ship anymore. I was just rousin' our crew to search for you an' Stugg, when the young 'un comes runnin' to tell me you need help."

Shoredog took one of the straps on Abruc's basket. "Let me help ye with this, mate, 'tis a good haul."

They set off back to their holt, with Stugg stumbling over the quiver of long arrows. Abruc shrugged philosophically. "It's a bad spring, cold an' stormy. Let's hope summer's a bit better when it comes. At least we won't have Raga Bol an' his villains to worry about. I suppose we should count ourselves lucky, really."

Young Stugg hitched the arrows higher on his back. They still dragged along the ground as he muttered aloud. "More luckier than d'poor stripedogs, I appose."

A brief smile crossed Shoredog's weathered face. "That young 'un of yores is growin' up quick mate!"

Dawn glimmered chili and blustery over the heathlands some two leagues west of the northeast sea. Wet, hungry and dispirited, Raga Bol's crew of Searats huddled round a smoking fire down a ravine. They stared miserably at a deep, rain-swollen stream running nearby. From further up the bank the vermin could hear their captain's shrieks and curses rending the air.

Rinj, a sly-faced female, gnawed at a filthy clawnail, glancing from one to the other. "Ye t'ink Bol's lost the paw? It'ought Wirga cudda sewed it back on, she's a good 'ealer."

A lanky, gaunt rat named Ferron picked something from his teeth and spat it into the stream. "Sewed it back on! Have ye gone soft in the skull? Last I saw, Cap'n Bol's paw was 'angin' on by a string o' skin. We should've stayed well clear o' those two stripedogs!"

Rinj wiped firesmoke from her blearing eyes. "The little ole one wuz no trouble, he didn't know wot 'it 'im, gone afore ye could wink."

Ferron winced as Raga Bol's screeches and curses redoubled. "Aye, but wot about the big 'un, eh? I thought Cap'n Bol killed him wid the first blow of his big sword!"

Glimbo, the captain's first mate, pushed Rinj away from the fire and installed his fat, greasy bulk close to the flames. One of his eyes was a milky sightless orb; the other roved around the crew as he warmed his paws.

"Never in me days seen Bol 'ave to strike a beast twice wid that blade. But that big stripedog came back after the first whack an' got his teeth in good. Just as well that Bol struck again, or he would've lost more'n one paw. Mark my words, stripedogs are powerful dangerous beasts!"

The heathland was a barren region, made drearier by the day's unabated rain. Down in the ravine a huge bonfire blazed to dispel the harsh weather. Every Searat of the crew sat watching their captain. Tall and sinewy, with a restless energy that could be glimpsed in his fiery green eyes, Raga Bol was an impressive rat by any measure. He sat wrapped in a fur cloak, his left pawstump hidden from view. The Searat's right paw rested on the carved bone hilt of a heavy, wide-bladed scimitar, protruding from his waistband. The crewbeasts could feel Raga Bol's eyes on them. Rain sizzling on the fire and wind fanning the flames were the only sounds to be heard as they waited on their captain's word.

Finally, Raga Bol rose and snarled bad-temperedly at them, firelight reflecting from his hooped brass earrings and gold-plated fangs. "We march west at dawn. Anybeast who don' want to go, let 'im speak now, an' I'll bury 'im right'ere!"

Not one of the Searat crew said a word. Raga Bol nodded. "West it is then. Blowfly, get me two runners."

Continues...


Excerpted from Loamhedge by Brian Jacques Copyright © 2003 by The Redwall La Dita Co., Ltd.. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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Customer Reviews

Average Rating 4.5
( 76 )
Rating Distribution

5 Star

(62)

4 Star

(7)

3 Star

(3)

2 Star

(2)

1 Star

(2)

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See All Sort by: Showing 1 – 20 of 76 Customer Reviews
  • Anonymous

    Posted January 30, 2013

    Great book!

    This book is one of the best in the Redwall series!

    2 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted July 18, 2006

    the best of the best

    This is by far the best I have read of Jaques! Bravo! Bravo! I cried, laughed, bit my lip, and had chills sent down my spine! Wonderful!

    2 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted July 3, 2004

    Redwall

    I rate Redwall right along with Harry Potter, Kingdoms and the Elves, and Unfortunate Events. Loamhedge was one of the best in the series in my opinion. Loved it! Everyone should read it.

    2 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted August 11, 2012

    My third favourite Redwall book!

    Great book! My first favourite is Martin the Warrior, and my secand favourite is The Rogue Crew, and Loamhege is my third favourite. I think that it has some qwalites that the other books in the Redwall series. Five stars defunatly!

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted December 29, 2011

    Amazing

    Loved it!!! Probably the best in the whole series. I thank brian with all my heart for giving me an awesome childhood and wish for him to rest in peace and happiness.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted May 12, 2009

    more from this reviewer

    Loamhedge Review by an 8th Grader at Barrackville

    This book is about a group of otters that live in Loamhedge. One otter is bound to be in a wheelchair her entire life. She learns that there might be a cure for her, at the lost Abby. This book is intended for audiences ages ten through sixteen. I, myself, was not a big fan of the book. I need more excitement from a book


    A band of searats attack two badgers. They killed one, and they left the other to die. Luckily, an otter searching for food finds the two badgers and sends for help. Meanwhile, in a village of otters, one otter is sentenced to be in a wheelchair her entire life, but she thinks there is a cure somewhere. She learns that there might be a cure in the lost Abby. The village then sends their two best warriors to find the lost Abby, and a cure. During their search, the band of searats attack Loamhedge. The village does not know what to do with their two best warriors gone.


    The characters are all animals, like otters, rats, and badgers. The setting is mainly in a small village called Loamhedge. Part of the story is set along an ocean, and in the hoom of three outers. The plot did not make any sence to me. I have no idea what the authors point in writing this book was. The book made no sence and I did not enjoy it.


    I did not enjoy this book as much as I thought I would. Others said that this was a good book, but I disagree. I could not get into this book as much as I usually get into books.

    1 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted May 17, 2014

    Very good book

    A very good redwall book.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted February 8, 2014

    To all

    The proper wary cry for hares should be
    Eulalia tis death on the wind, foward the bufs, givem blud and vinigar, eulaliaaa charrrrrrrrge. All fo that is the same war cry

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  • Anonymous

    Posted March 31, 2013

    I love this!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

    Thi book is very exciting with lots of detail,description,aand action!!!!!!!!!!!

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  • Anonymous

    Posted February 13, 2013

    Spell it right!!!!!!!!!!!

    Jacques

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  • Anonymous

    Posted January 31, 2011

    Brian Jacques u write the best books(this spoils)

    well u've done it agian!another geat book.
    martha braebuck stuck in a wheelchair wants to discover how she can walk
    while lonna tracks down raga bol
    wel well who r those two seaching for how martha can walk but then agian ther r 3 others with them.

    will martha ever walk? will saro and bragoon die and/or find the cure?
    y want the spoiler?



























    martha walks without the cure!!!!!!!!!!:)

    0 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted July 11, 2008

    Oh my gooodnes...

    I'm speechless. Out of the eight Redwall books I've read so far The Long Patrol and Loamhedge are the best by far. Brian Jaques (sorry if I spelled his name wrong) is one of the best authors ever. When the two travelers perished, I cried. But I couldn't tell if they were tears of sadness or joy. That just shows you how good of an author he his. I totally love this book.

    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted January 15, 2008

    Redwallrules!!!!!!!!!!!

    I love this series!!!!!!!!!!!!There are 19 books in the series and more coming!!Keep it up Brian!!The series titles are the best books I've ever read!

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  • Anonymous

    Posted March 24, 2007

    My Opinion:

    Okay, so I really liked this book-it was one of my all time favorites. I read ALL the time so thats a lot of books.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted October 11, 2005

    Need help!

    I was wondeing if anyone could tell me how many are there in this series? My boyfriend has read 'half' of them (is what his mom told me) so... I'm trying to decide what one to buy him. Hope someone can help!

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  • Anonymous

    Posted October 24, 2004

    Truly Amazing!

    The Book Loamhedge by Brian Jacques is an amazing book, the best in the Redwall series so far. It enraptures the reader into an interesting adventurous story. If you like Brian Jacques, this is a must read novel.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted June 16, 2004

    Another Winner

    Jacques did it again. I began reading the Redwall books in the 5th grade and I just graduated from high school. They hold the same magic for me then as they do now. Keep up the good work!

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  • Anonymous

    Posted February 24, 2004

    sweet

    I love the Redwall books especially this one. They have a lot of adventure in them and Jacques describes them really well. This is one of the better books I've read besides Triss, Salamandastron, Lord Brocktree, and The Long Patrol. This book is AWSOME!!!!

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  • Anonymous

    Posted January 3, 2004

    This is what books should be like!!!

    This is a great book full of good old Redwall!!! Loamhedge is an awesome example of the wonderful Redwall series. I think it ranks right next to Taggerung! (Taggerung is still my favorite Redwall book though!)

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  • Anonymous

    Posted February 4, 2004

    So good! uh uh! So good! uh uh(u know the rest)

    alli can say is that.... I'm lovin it, I'm lovin it, lovin, lovin lovin it... lovin lovin lovin it... Im LOVIN it! Sorry. Had to have my moment. It was awesomeness!!!!! I knew it was going to be so good, i bought it b4 i even read it. And it was worth it! But..... Triss was the BEST!!!!! (look for my review on Triss)

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