Road to Apple Dumpling Bridge , livre ebook

Andrews UK - L Knowles K

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77 pages

English

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It's 1939. The woodland creatures of Gosport are enjoying their annual fete at Fort Rowner, with dancing, cake-baking, and a dazzling air display by the Red Sparrows. But war will soon shatter their joy. Admiral Gizor, the evil grey squirrel that rules Portsmouth, dreams of a 'pedigree' society and invades Gosport in order to exterminate its red squirrels. Gosport is alluring for another reason too: Gizor has long suspected that an ancient holy relic - an acorn carved by Hudsonicus, the animal god - is hidden there. With that in his grasp, he could rule the world.Agatha Mumby, a feisty red squirrel, joins a small band of resistance fighters. With her comrades - a moody mole, a dopey white rabbit and an eager-to-please seagull - she sets out on a perilous journey that will take her into the heart of enemy territory. Armed only with a riddle given to her by a friendly squirrel monk, can she crack the code in time?In this gripping novel for young adults (12+) and adults too, K L Knowles draws you into a world where the landscape seems familiar - from the Alver Valley and Priddy's Hard to Portsmouth Dockyard and Portchester Castle - but is not the world you know.

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Publié par	Andrews UK
Date de parution	09 avril 2019
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781911105435
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	1 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0300€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

The Road to
Apple Dumpling Bridge
by
K L Knowles

First published in 2019 by
Chaplin Books
www.chaplinbooks.co.uk
Digital edition converted and distributed by
Andrews UK Limited
www.andrewsuk.com
© Copyright 2019 K L Knowles
The right of K L Knowles to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1998.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. Any person who does so may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
This is a work of fiction. Although the novel uses real locations, its characters and events are solely the invention of the author and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The use of surnames that are well-known in the Gosport area does not indicate or imply any connection with the real people who hold or held these surnames.
Map illustrations by K L Knowles
www.appledumplingbridge.co.uk

For my family

Foreword
Hidden safe somewhere in the corner of the world lies a holy relic carved by the paws of the Animal God himself. A mystic Acorn fashioned from the wood of a tree that grew in the Alver Valley in the Country of Gosport, its possession guarantees eternal life, peace and happiness. Generations of animals have hunted far and wide for the Acorn, religious wars have raged and quests have been founded by mighty kings. But not everyone who seeks the Acorn does so for the right reasons. Although the animals of Gosport hold fast to what Hudsonicus Holozoa, their God, taught them - that kindness is everything - they know that others hunger for more.
Everyone likes to think that the Acorn is hidden in their own little corner of the world. But perhaps it is right here in southern England, where the map of the coast wiggles up and down to form a harbour - a city on one side and a town on the other? If so, then who can prevent the acorn from falling into the paws of evil?
The animals will receive no help from humankind: generations before, cholera spread through the lands, killing the people, leaving another kind to evolve and take their place, to live in their houses, run their businesses, farm the land, fish the seas, protect the shores, and govern their countries.
Our story begins in 1939 in a world that you never knew existed. A world under threat that only a Chosen One can save.

Part One

Gosport - God’s Port Our Haven
1: The Greatest Show in Town
Every year throughout Gosport, grand celebrations took place to mark the start of the summer season. Lashings of food were served, together with wine made from every berry, and the animal folk gathered to enjoy great feasts and entertainment. Fort Rowner was the venue for one of the largest of these celebrations and drew animals from far and wide.
Led by Lady Ellen Prideaux-Brune, a bubbly badger, the Doe-hen Institute of Ladies prepared diligently, almost as if it were a military operation. For some it was the highlight of their social calendar and a feather in the cap of the D.I. but for Lady Prideaux-Brune it was more about upholding tradition. With her brother, Brigadier Brune, she had inherited land throughout Gosport; both were wealthy but generous to those in need. Lady Prideaux-Brune was full of community spirit and was never too proper to get stuck in. Indeed, if she saw that there was a job to do she would simply get on and do it, rallying everyone around her to help, of course. A no-nonsense, paws-on old gal, she was eccentric to the core. Her whiskery brother was equally well respected within the community, who thought him loveable and jolly, though Lady Prideaux-Brune made no bones about her views - she thought him a bumbling old fool at times, forever twittering on about battles gone by.
“Marvelous!” declared Brigadier Brune sitting at his table surrounded by a feast. “Absolutely scrumptious. Well done, ladies.” He patted his stomach and drank more from his goblet of elderberry wine.
The fort was buzzing with activity for the 1939 festivities - there was music, dancing, D.I. competitions and bake sales, games for the children, laughter and fun. It was a day for little ones to remember and for their parents to relax.
Through the throng of the crowd came two old friends walking together carrying plates of food in their paws towards the table where their families were waiting.
“I hear that Jane Priddy is buying more land for additional dock space,” said Mary Camper, a rather pompous red squirrel who was overfond of a bit of gossip, to her friend Gertie Nicholson.
“Well yes, I heard that too. But I also heard that she only had to pay Bernard Hardway a couple of farthings and a smile for it,” replied Gertie as they joined Mary’s husband at the table.
“Well, it makes you wonder, doesn’t it?” said Mary. “Pass the salt, dear,” she asked her husband.
“What are we wondering about this time?” said the gentleman squirrel in a despairing tone.
Ignoring her husband, Mary added: “Well, he always did have a soft spot for Jane and for other fieldmice in general. I’ll never understand it. I mean, she is practically a recluse on that big old estate of hers. When was the last time we saw her at a D.I. meeting - 1935 wasn’t it? And what does it say about him - carrying on like that?”
“Oh I agree, dreadful business,” said Gertie, utterly compliant as always.
Breaking up the gossip was the squeaky voice of Ethel Knight, one of the few grey squirrels in their community, declaring a magic show and introducing her best friend and conjurer, Agatha Mumby. Of course Mary and Gertie had something to say about that.
“Oh really, why does she insist on putting on this dreadful show each year?” said Mary, twitching her tail in indignation. “We really must discuss this at next month’s meeting. How are we to pass on the traditional animal ways when Agatha dresses like a wizard? It simply will not do.”
“Ladies and gentleman, gather round, gather round!” said Ethel to the crowd, struggling to make herself heard. “You are about to see the greatest show in town. You won’t believe your eyes, folks. Please welcome the greatest conjurer of them all - Aggy Mystic Mumby!”
Agatha, who had donned an oversized wizard’s cloak and pointy hat over her red squirrel fur, was welcomed with rapturous applause. She took up her position next to a big haphazard-looking wooden contraption with a large handle on the side of it.
“Thank you, and thank you to my apprentice friend, Ethel. I will now attempt something you have never seen before. For your viewing pleasure I will make Ethel disappear. Please do not try this at home.” The crowd played along, ‘ooh-ing and aah-ing’ in all the right places. The little ones who had gathered at the front were loving the spectacle. “Ladies and gentleman, for this to work we must all say the magic words together: - ‘Magical-is, Disappear-is, Ethel-is’.”
“Oh please,” mocked Mary Camper.
“Ethel, if you will, stand on the ‘Disapearis Apparatus Generator’ and on my word, everyone, shout as loud as possible - one, two, three, Magical-is, Disappear-is, Ethel-is.” Agatha began turning the crank at the side of the machine as fast as she could. “Repeat the words!” she cried to the crowd of woodland creatures.
“MAGICALIS, DISAPPEARIS, ETHELIS
MAGICALIS, DISAPPEARIS, ETHELIS
MAGICALIS, DISAPPEARIS, ETHELIS.”
Suddenly there was a loud bang like a cannon and a huge puff of smoke formed around Agatha’s machine. It silenced the crowd. They were not sure if it was part of the show or something they should be worried about. Agatha rushed to the back of the rumbling machine to try and find Ethel. The explosion had flung her into the air and when she landed she had rolled into one of the tunnels of the fort at the back.
“I knew we had used too much gunpowder, Agatha,” said Ethel getting to her feet and dusting off her grey fur. Agatha ran back for her applause from the crowd as the smoke cleared.
“Thank you, thank you - I will now attempt to bring her back.”
Ethel scampered undetected up the side of the fort to the covered way - a high grassy platform overlooking the festivities. Agatha cranked the machine once more and worked the crowd again. Again there was a bang followed by a huge puff of smoke. Agatha pointed to the covered way where Ethel was standing above the crowd waving. The crowd broke into even more rapturous applause. As they watched, she pointed to the sky behind them. All the creatures turned and the tannoy introduced The Red Sparrows in a magnificent display.
“You can’t beat The Red Sparrows,” declared Brigadier Brune. “Fantastic squadron, brave men. Good soliders too, you know.”
As the crowds settled back to their tables to enjoy the rest of the summer evening, Agatha and Ethel began packing away the machine.
Lady Prideaux-Brune bustled up. “Fantastic show, Agatha. Well done,” she said. “Will we be seeing you at the next D.I. meeting? Important issues to discuss and next year’s festivities to plan. I want more explosions, more dancing and music. And baking of course, which reminds me I must remember to collect a slice of that scrumptious walnut loaf before I leave. Anyway, must dash - a competition to judge and I have a couple of farthings on the snails today.” Lady Prideaux-Brune had always liked a flutter on the snails.
“Oh Agatha! Is that really s