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Summary
Summary
Middle-earth for middle graders! This young reader fantasy series proves you don't have to be brave or powerful to do great things.
In a classic fantasy world of anthropomorphic rabbits, three young siblings are on the run from the villainous Gorm tribe who have killed and enslaved their clan. Podkin, once destined to be clan leader, has always been spoiled, but now he must act bravely as he, his older sister, and baby brother flee for their lives.
Facing pursuit and treachery, the three collect allies in their search for refuge, until at last they are ready to fight back against the Gorm and attempt to rid the land of an evil scourge.
For young fans of Redwall, Warriors, and other classic animal fantasy favorites.
Author Notes
Kieran Larwood has been passionate about stories and storytelling since reading The Hobbit at age six. He is now a primary school teacher, father, and author of novels for children. He lives on the Isle of Wight in Great Britain. www.kmlarwood.com
Reviews (4)
Horn Book Review
A mysterious hooded bard enters a warren on a wintry night and spins a tale of Podkin, a spoiled little rabbit who becomes a reluctant hero. With its distinct storyteller's voice, tight pacing, and detailed full-spread illustrations, this engaging animal fantasy (first in a series) will immediately draw readers into an intricate world populated with imperfect heroes and warped villains. (c) Copyright 2018. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Booklist Review
*Starred Review* On Bramblemas Eve, a bard arrives at Thornwood Warren and enthralls the rabbits there by telling of Podkin, the lazy first son of his warren's chieftain, surviving an attack by the terrifying Gorm (mutant, militant rabbits), who slay his father. Instructed to protect the burrow's secret treasure a magical dagger and one of the Twelve Gifts that the Gorm are seeking Podkin flees along with Paz, his older sister, and Pook, their younger brother. Though his father's death has made him a chieftain, terrified Podkin feels ill-equipped for leadership, and he is. Still, he perseveres, gaining the understanding and courage to face what he fears most. The story comes to a satisfying conclusion and so does the framework tale, but Podkin's saga is to be continued. Quickly sketched initially, the character portrayals gradually become more complete and convincing. The rabbits' many close calls, escapes, and battles will captivate adventure fans, while the slower paced scenes enable readers to understand the individual rabbits, their society, and its mythology. A detailed map and eight softly shaded pencil drawings illustrate the story effectively. In a simply written, accessible chapter book, Larwood tells a rousingly good tale while creating a sturdy narrative structure for the Longburrow series.--Phelan, Carolyn Copyright 2017 Booklist
School Library Journal Review
Gr 4-6-In this action-packed middle grade allegorical fantasy, a wandering rabbit bard recounts the legendary tale of Podkin One-Ear to a rapt group of bunnies on Bramblemas Eve. He tells how Podkin defeated the evil, armored rabbits called the Gorm and their Lord Scramashank. When Podkin was eight, he, his older sister Paz, and his baby brother Pook fled their warren when the Gorm invaded and killed their chieftain father. The Gorm were once normal rabbits but mutated into deformed, metal-plated rabbits who kill, transform, or enslave the conquered rabbits. Podkin is unprepared for the role of hero, unlike Paz, who's a skilled fighter. Podkin's one advantage is the copper dagger his aunt thrust into his paws as the Gorm overran his warren. It's magical, with the power to cut through anything, except iron. It's one of the Twelve Gifts given to the first rabbit tribes at the start of time. The Gorm are hunting for these Gifts, and Podkin instinctively knows he mustn't let them get the dagger. With the Gorm on their tails, the siblings go from warren to warren, looking for refuge, navigating dangerous situations, and gathering friends and foes along the way. With the help of his family and newfound friends, Podkin finds the courage and strength to believe in himself and defeat the Gorm. VERDICT Adventure-seeking fantasy lovers, especially "Redwall" fans, will enjoy this nicely illustrated tale of rabbits fighting oppression and succeeding despite great odds.-Sharon Rawlins, New Jersey State Library, Trenton © Copyright 2017. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Kirkus Review
A traveling bard tells the story of how legendary warrior rabbit Podkin lost his ear and confronted the treacherous Gorm.When rabbits walked upright and lived in elaborate underground villages, Podkin "was perhaps the laziest, most spoiled son of a chieftain in the whole Five Realms." One Bramblemas Eve, the Gormmutant, evil, iron-infused, red-eyed rabbitsinvade Munbury Warren searching for Starclaw, a magical knife. While the Gorm murder his father, Podkin flees with his sister, brother, and Starclaw. With the Gorm in pursuit, the siblings barely escape (Podkin sacrificing his ear in the process) and are rescued by an ancient rabbit healer/seer who seems to know everything about them. She sends them to an underground warren of other refugees from the Gorm, where they find allies, but can Podkin, now chieftain of Munbury Warren, hope to avenge his father and rescue his mother from the seemingly invincible Gorm? An omniscient third-person narrator speaks directly to readers, inviting them to listen to the mysterious storyteller who relates Podkin's gripping tale in language replete with amusing asides, rabbit lore, stories within stories, and a curious insider perspective. Realistic black-and-white illustrations highlight dramatic scenes. An original fantasy with warrior rabbits, fierce foes, sibling loyalty, riveting adventure, and genuine storytelling. (map) (Animal fantasy. 10-12) Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Excerpts
Excerpts
CHAPTER ONE A Bard for Bramblemas Crunch, crunch. Crunch, crunch . The sound of heavy footsteps trudging through knee-deep snow echoes through the night's silence. A thick white blanket covers the wide slopes of the band of hills known as the Razorback Downs. Moonlight dances over it, glinting here and there in drifts of sparkles, as if someone has sprinkled the whole scene with diamond dust. It is perfect--untouched except for one spidery line of tracks leading down from the hills toward the frosted woodland beneath. Crunch, crunch. Crunch, crunch go the footsteps of the track maker. He is hunched and weary, using a tall staff to help him through the snow. He might have been an old man if it hadn't been many hundreds of moons since men trod these lands. Move closer, and instead you will see he is a rabbit, walking upright in the way people once did, his ears hidden beneath the hood of a heavy leather cloak, fierce eyes peering out at the wintry midnight world. The thick fur on his face and arms is dyed with blue swirls and patterns, which marks him as a bard. A traveling, storytelling rabbit. A wanderer with nothing on his back but a set of travel-worn clothes and a head stuffed full of tales and yarns: old, new, broken, and mended. Just about every story you ever heard, and many more yet to be told. Don't worry about him being out in the cold on such a wintry night. His trade will see him welcomed in any warren. That is the tradition and the law throughout the Five Realms of Lanica, and woe betide anyone who doesn't keep it. Crunch, crunch. Crunch, crunch . His breath steams out behind him as he forces his way through the snow. Listen closer and you can hear him mumbling curses with each hard-fought step. Closer still and you can hear the strings of wooden beads around his neck clicking and clacking, the bone trinkets and pouches around his belt knocking and niggling. He marches with a purpose, as if he has someplace to be and he is already late. But where is there for him to go? There is nothing but snow and trees from here all the way to the horizon. Until, of course, you remember that he's a rabbit. Rabbits live underground, in warrens and burrows: warm and safe, out of the winter ice and frost. And that is indeed where he is heading. Into the woods and through the trees until he stops before a pair of huge entrance doors set into the side of a little hill. Behind them is Thornwood Warren, and there had better be a warm welcome for him, or there will be serious trouble. Boom, boom, boom! He smacks the end of his staff against the oak and waits for an answer. Back when rabbits were small, twitchy, terrified things, warrens were little more than a collection of holes and tunnels in the ground. Now, in this new age, they are something different altogether: there are entire villages and cities built under the earth, completely out of sight. The bard knows that behind those wooden doors will be nest burrows and market burrows, workshops, temples, libraries, larders, pantries, and a dozen kitchens to feed them all. There will be soldiers and healers, servants, cooks, smiths, weavers, tailors, potters, and painters. Old rabbits, young rabbits, poor rabbits, and noble rabbits. All walks of life hidden away in cozy, torch-lit underground houses; all arranged around every warren's hub: the longburrow, a great feasting hall with a huge fireplace, rows of tables, and nearly always music. Music, noise, and merriness--that is what rabbits love. Especially tonight, for this is Bramblemas Eve: the night on which the winter solstice is celebrated with a special feast and the promise of presents in the morning, left behind by the mysterious Midwinter Rabbit. And stories, of course. Special stories, told by a visiting bard--that is, if he ever got inside the place. Boom, boom, boom! He smacks the doors again and is about to do so a third time when he hears a muffled voice on the other side. "All right, all right, keep your ears on, I'm coming!" There are more words about stupid people being outside on this kind of night, but luckily the heavy wood absorbs most of those. Finally, the doors creak open, spilling golden torch light onto the snow, and the face of a burly soldier rabbit pokes out. "Who in the Goddess's name are you?" he says, glaring at the stranger. Underneath the hood, pale green eyes glare back. "Is that any way to treat a bard come to tell tales on the Eve of Bramblemas? Is that how the old ways are kept here at Thornwood?" Even though the soldier rabbit is the size of a small armor-clad mountain, something about the bard makes him tremble a little. "Sorry, sir," he says, and pushes the door open farther with his shoulder. "Come in and share our hearth on this Middlewinter night . . ." " Mid winter, turnip head," corrects the bard, stepping into the torch light and the warmth. The warren doors close behind him, and he shakes the snow from his cloak with a shudder. "Now. Which way to the fireside?" And he strides off down the paved entrance hall as if he has been here a hundred times before. "What's a Midwinter turnip head?" mumbles the puzzled guard before turning to trot after him. Just as every warren is carefully built around the longburrow at its center, the rabbits inside are organized around their chieftain. He is the leader of the tribe, just as his father was before him, and his son will be after. All the warren decisions are made between him and his wife, all the arguments settled, and all the feasts and festivals organized. In Thornwood, the chieftain is Hubert the Broad. A great, big-bellied lop rabbit, with brown-and-white-patched fur, ears down to his knees, and a stomach you could build a house on. He is currently sitting on his throne in its place of honor at the feasting table, a bramble crown on his head and his great piebald stomach bursting the seams of his tunic. He is singing a merry song about the Midwinter Rabbit getting stuck in his burrow, while all the little rabbits sit laughing at his feet. When he sees the bard enter, he stops, stands, and raises his drinking horn in salute. "Welcome, bard!" he shouts in a voice that shakes earth from the ceiling. "Welcome, on Bramblemas Eve!" "That's more like it," mutters the bard, shrugging off his leather cloak. He keeps his hood on, but the light from the fire still shows off the swirls and whorls of blue patterns dyed into the fur on his bare arms. "We thought you weren't coming," says Hubert. "But Bramblemas Eve is full of surprises. Will you sing for your supper?" The bard chuckles. "My voice is too old and cracked for singing." He takes a seat by the fireside and warms his hands. "But I might be persuaded to tell a tale or two." "Bring this man some food! Quick! Sharp!" Hubert shouts, flicking his ears at his cupbearers. They scurry off and return moments later with a bowl of buttery turnip soup and a platter of cornbread. The bard tucks into it like a rabbit starved and, finishing it, wipes his mouth with the back of his paw. "I suppose that deserves a tale," he says. "What would you like to hear?" The little rabbits swarm to his feet, all crying out at once. "Beobunny!" "The Fisher Rabbit!" "Podkin One-Ear!" "Did I hear someone mention Podkin One-Ear?" says the bard, settling farther into his chair. "Podkin the Horned King? The Moonstrider? Podkin of the magic knife?" When the little ones nod their heads and shriek with excitement, he folds his painted arms and tugs at his beard. "I do know some tales of that one, but they will be different from those you have heard. Nothing about shooting fire from his eyes or wrestling giant rabbits with bare hands. Nothing like that at all." "What kind of tales, bard?" "Why are they different?" "Why won't there be fiery eyes and giants?" "They're different," he says, "because they are true. And because fiery eyes don't exist anywhere except in fairy tales and the heads of silly young rabbits." The bard waves a hand for silence, and then he begins. Excerpted from Podkin One-Ear by Kieran Larwood All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.