The Outcasts: Brotherband Chronicles, Book 1 (The Brotherband Chronicles)
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From the author of the global phenomenon Ranger's Apprentice!
They are outcasts. Hal, Stig, and the others - they are the boys the others want no part of. Skandians, as any reader of Ranger's Apprentice could tell you, are known for their size and strength. Not these boys. Yet that doesn't mean they don't have skills. And courage - which they will need every ounce of to do battle at sea against the other bands, the Wolves and the Sharks, in the ultimate race. The icy waters make for a treacherous playing field . . . especially when not everyone thinks of it as playing. John Flanagan, author of the international phenomenon Ranger's Apprentice, creates a new cast of characters to populate his world of Skandians and Araluens, a world millions of young readers around the world have come to know and admire. Full of seafaring adventures and epic battles, Book 1 of The Brotherband Chronicles is sure to thrill readers of Ranger's Apprentice while enticing a whole new generation just now discovering the books.
Perfect for fans of J.R.R. Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings, T.H. White’s The Sword in the Stone, Christopher Paolini’s Eragon series, and George R. R. Martin’s Game of Thrones/A Song of Ice and Fire series.
further. Or to sound his horn. That was usually the way the contests began, he thought. He glanced at Tursgud and saw that he was hesitating as well, eyes intent on the chief instructor. Sigurd seemed to become aware of their scrutiny. He raised his eyebrows at them. “Was there something else?” he asked and they both shook their heads. “Well then,” he continued, “perhaps you might like to get under way. This is a race as well as a navigation test, you know.” For a second longer, they stood
from how we’re going to find Zavac?” he said. “I don’t think so.” chapter forty-four Erak was supervising the loading of stores into Wolf wind when Tursgud approached him. “Oberjarl? I wonder if I could have a word with you?” Erak regarded him. At the best of times, he had a strong dislike for Tursgud. And this was far from the best of times. “You appear to be doing that already,” he pointed out coldly, and Tursgud smiled, determined to maintain a feeling of good fellowship. “Well,
cordage littered the ground. There were work trestles and benches and a tarpaulin shelter had been rigged to provide protection during wet weather. The smell of sawdust and sawn timber permeated the air. A small, ramshackle jetty stood on the bank of the creek close by the work site. The Heron was moored alongside this jetty, her mooring lines creaking gently as they stretched then slackened with the movement of the water. She was a sleek craft, some fifteen meters long—or about half the length
members. As the older sailors said, there was very little for a lookout to do and most junior sailors were extremely capable of doing very little. There was a practical side to the arrangement, of course. Younger sailors had younger eyes and were likely to see a strange ship sooner than their older comrades. On this day, the lookout saw a very strange ship indeed. Her hull looked like a wolfship, only smaller—perhaps slightly more than half the size of a normal wolfship. And she was coming up
he said. All eyes turned to him and he continued. “Remember when we went through the assessments, we noticed that the individual tests were listed that way: ‘Wrestling, individual. Footrace, individual. Navigation, individual.’ But for the mountain race, it just said, ‘Mountain race.’ That means it’s a team event.” Hal frowned as he tried to recall the list. “I think you’re right,” he said slowly. “And if you are, that’s why they’ve put this one first. If we’d already done a few others, we’d be