The Legend of Luke

Начало книги

The echo rolls onward, it seldom ends.

Who never turned and ran, but stayed?

This is a warrior born, not made!

Living in peace, aye many a season,

Calm in life and sound in reason,

'Til evil arrives, a wicked horde,

Driving a warrior to pick up his sword,

The challenger rings then, straight and fair,

Justice is with us, beware. Beware!

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Book 1

Martin

Chapter 1

Summer's first morn was like no other!

Trimp the roving hedgehog wandered through the woodlands like one in a dream, drinking in the beauty of Mossflower Country, so different from the cold north-land coast whence she had traveled. Dew was still upon each leaf, delicate mist tendrils wreathed into greengold sun shafts 'twixt mighty oak, slender rowan and stately elm. Birds trilled sweetly, butterflies fluttered silently, bees hummed busily over flowers, ferns and lichen-clad rocks. Trimp's heart felt as light as the haversack on her back. She ignored hunger, feasting her senses on the glory of her surroundings and the delight of the new season. Swinging her ash stave jauntily, she skipped a little jig and broke out into song.

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