The Red Wolf Conspiracy (Chathrand Voyage Series #1) [NOOK Book]

Overview

Six hundred years old, the Imperial Merchant Ship Chathrand is a massive floating outpost of the Empire of Arqual. And it is on its most vital mission yet: to deliver a young woman whose marriage will seal the peace between Arqual and its mortal enemy, the Mzithrin Empire. But Thasha, the young noblewoman in question, may be bringing her swords to the altar. 

For the ship’s true mission is not peace but war—a war that threatens to ...

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The Red Wolf Conspiracy (Chathrand Voyage Series #1)

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Overview

Six hundred years old, the Imperial Merchant Ship Chathrand is a massive floating outpost of the Empire of Arqual. And it is on its most vital mission yet: to deliver a young woman whose marriage will seal the peace between Arqual and its mortal enemy, the Mzithrin Empire. But Thasha, the young noblewoman in question, may be bringing her swords to the altar. 

For the ship’s true mission is not peace but war—a war that threatens to rekindle an ancient power long thought lost. As the Chathrand navigates treacherous waters, Thasha must seek unlikely allies—including a magic-cursed deckhand, a stowaway tribe of foot-high warriors, and a singularly heroic rat—and enter a treacherous web of intrigue to uncover the secret of the legendary Red Wolf.
 

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Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly

Insane god-kings, miniature warriors and sentient animals fight over a powerful ancient artifact in Redick's dramatic, complex debut. The Mzithrin and Arquali Empires have been locked in a 40-year cold war over the resources and riches of the Crownless Lands on their common frontier. Now the Chathrand, a floating city built as much by sorcerer as shipwright, bears young Thasha, an unwilling bride to an enemy prince. No one seems sure whether this is a sincere attempt to bind the two empires together in peace or merely a gambit in their political games. The tense atmosphere soon erupts as various factions struggle to find and control the myth-wrapped Red Wolf. Both adult and young adult readers will find much to enjoy in this tale of sea-faring and bloody diplomacy. (May)

Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
Library Journal

As the city-sized ship Chathrand sets sail on a peacemaking mission to an enemy land, its passengers and crew reflect their world's hopes and fears. A reluctant bride-to-be, a young sailor from a family accused of treason, a race of tiny humanlike stowaways, and a magical rat find their fortunes tossed to the fates as the ship is besieged by assassins, slavers, and other treacherous creatures desperate to unlock the secret of the artifact known as the Red Wolf. Redick's debut presents a unique setting for an epic fantasy and includes memorable characters. With comparisons to Geroge R.R. Martin and Philip Pullman, this is highly recommended for all fantasy collections. [Library marketing.]


—Jackie Cassada
School Library Journal

Adult/High School

Disguises, deceit, and double-crossing abound in this barn burner of a first volume of an epic fantasy. Fifteen-year-old Pazel, the son of a disgraced traitor, finds a position as a lowly lad-of-all-work aboard the mighty ship Chathrand , which is bearing newly appointed ambassador Isiq to his post, and Isiq's 16-year-old daughter, willful Thasha, to her arranged marriage with a foreign prince. Also onboard are a band of conspirators plotting to use Thasha's wedding as an excuse to start a devastating war. As Pazel and Thasha realize that danger is brewing around them, they put their heads together to find a way to avert the impending catastrophe. But whom can they trust, when everyone seems to be hiding secrets: the clan of foot-high warriors, despised as "crawlies," who have stowed away for purposes of their own; mysterious Dr. Chadfellow; mild-mannered soap merchant Mr. Ket; a talking rat? What's more, an elderly duchess's cat inexplicably keeps showing up at the most inopportune of times, and one of the passengers or crew is the powerful and evil mage they have been warned against. Mermaids, assassins, pirates, and slavers join the cast of characters as Pazel and Thasha peel away the layers of evil surrounding them, with the result that they face a danger greater than they had imagined. Like many epic fantasies, this book starts slowly, but teens will soon be engrossed in the battle of good versus evil as the protagonists and their allies take on this cunning lot of villains.-Sandy Schmitz, Berkeley Public Library, CA

Kirkus Reviews
An engaging maritime fantasy adventure, set in a fully realized world. Redick's debut, the first of a trilogy, is an epic involving the I.M.S. Chathrand, a massive merchant sailing ship, which is transporting an ambassador's daughter to be married off in order to forge a peace between two enemy empires. Along the way, the independent bride-to-be and a deckhand with a magical talent uncover a monstrous conspiracy-involving a legendary and mysterious artifact called the Red Wolf-that threatens to plunge the world into chaos. The multilayered plot gets very complex, very quickly. The story is populated by witches, mermaids, talking animals, tiny foot-high warriors and more. It will keep readers avidly turning pages-and looking forward to the next installment. A quality debut. Author events in New England
From the Publisher
“What can I say about a book as exciting and fresh as The Red Wolf Conspiracy? I can't remember when I've been so enthralled. Maybe when I first read Philip Pullman. This is one terrific read.”—Terry Brooks

“Wonderfully inventive-Robert Redick is an extraordinary talent.”—Karen Miller, author of The Innocent Mage

“[An] outstanding debut . . . With its colourful cast of inhabitants, which include a band of tiny, Lilliputian-style warriors, sentient rats and archetypal ancient evil the Shaggat Ness, the Chathrand brings to mind The Scar's fantastical floating city.”—SFX magazine

“Redick joins the ranks of writers challenging the fantasy genre and making it exciting again.”—New York Review of Science Fiction

“A wondrous creation . . . an entertaining, fast-paced saga of high-seas adventure that is part fantasy quest, part political intrigue, and part coming-of-age tale.”—Fantasy Book Critic

From the Hardcover edition.

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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780345515025
  • Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
  • Publication date: 4/28/2009
  • Series: Chathrand Voyage Series , #1
  • Sold by: Random House
  • Format: eBook
  • Pages: 464
  • Sales rank: 131,036
  • File size: 3 MB

Meet the Author

Robert V. S. Redick's unpublished first novel, Conquistadors, was a finalist for the AWP/Thomas Dunne Novel Award, and his essay “Uncrossed River” won the New Millennium Writings Award for nonfiction. A former theater critic and international development researcher, he worked most recently for the antipoverty organization Oxfam. He lives in western Massachusetts.

From the Hardcover edition.

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Read an Excerpt

Chapter One


Tarboy

1 Vaqrin (first day of summer) 941

Midnight

It began, as every disaster in his life began, with a calm. The harbor and the village slept. The wind that had roared all night lay quelled by the headland; the bosun grew too sleepy to shout. But forty feet up the ratlines, Pazel Pathkendle had never been more awake.

He was freezing, to start with—a rogue wave had struck the bow at dusk, soaking eight boys and washing the ship’s dog into the hold, where it still yipped for rescue—but it wasn’t the cold that worried him. It was the storm cloud. It had leaped the coastal ridge in one bound, on high winds he couldn’t feel. The ship had no reason to fear it, but Pazel did. People were trying to kill him, and the only thing stopping them was the moon, that blessed bonfire moon, etching his shadow like a coal drawing on the deck of the Eniel.

One more mile, he thought. Then it can pour for all I care.

While the calm held, the Eniel ran quiet as a dream: her captain hated needless bellowing, calling it the poor pilot’s surrogate for leadership, and merely gestured to the afterguard when the time came to tack for shore. Glancing up at the mainsails, his eyes fell on Pazel, and for a moment they regarded each other in silence: an old man stiff and wrinkled as a cypress; a boy in tattered shirt and breeches, nut-brown hair in his eyes, clinging barefoot to the tarred and salt-stiffened ropes. A boy suddenly aware that he had no permission to climb aloft.

Pazel made a show of checking the yardarm bolts, and the knots on the closest stays. The captain watched his antics, unmoved. Then, almost invisibly, he shook his head.

Pazel slid to the deck in an instant, furious with himself. You clod, Pathkendle! Lose Nestef’s love and there’s no hope for you!

Captain Nestef was the kindest of the five mariners he had served: the only one who never beat or starved him, or forced him, a boy of fifteen, to drink the black nightmare liquor grebel for the amusement of the crew. If Nestef had ordered him to dive into the sea, Pazel would have obeyed at once. He was a bonded servant and could be traded like a slave.

On the deck, the other servant boys—tarboys, they were called, for the pitch that stained their hands and feet—turned him looks of contempt. They were older and larger, with noses proudly disfigured from brawls of honor in distant ports. The eldest, Jervik, sported a hole in his right ear large enough to pass a finger through. Rumor held that a violent captain had caught him stealing a pudding, and had pinched the ear with tongs heated cherry-red in the galley stove.

The other rumor attached to Jervik was that he had stabbed a boy in the neck after losing at darts. Pazel didn’t know if he believed the tale. But he knew that a gleam came to Jervik’s eyes at the first sign of another’s weakness, and he knew the boy carried a knife.

One of Jervik’s hangers-on gestured at Pazel with his chin. “Thinks his place is on the maintop, this one,” he said, grinning. “Bet you can tell him diff’rint, eh, Jervik?”

“Shut up, Nat, you ain’t clever,” said Jervik, his eyes locked on Pazel.

“What ho, Pazel Pathkendle, he’s defendin’ you,” laughed another. “Ain’t you goin’ to thank him? You better thank him!”

Jervik turned the speaker a cold look. The laughter ceased. “I han’t defended no one,” said the larger boy.

“?’Course you didn’t, Jervik, I just—”

“Somebody worries my mates, I defend them. Defend my good name, too. But there’s no defense for a wee squealin’ Ormali.”

The laughter was general, now: Jervik had given permission.

Then Pazel said, “Your mates and your good name. How about your honor, Jervik, and your word?”

“Them too,” snapped Jervik.

“And wet fire?”

“Eh?”

“Diving roosters? Four-legged ducks?”

Jervik stared at Pazel for a moment. Then he glided over and hit him squarely on the cheek.

“Brilliant reply, Jervik,” said Pazel, standing his ground despite the fire along one side of his face.

Jervik raised a corner of his shirt. Tucked into his breeches was a skipper’s knife with a fine, well-worn leather grip.

“Want another sort of reply, do you?”

His face was inches from Pazel’s own. His lips were stained red by low-grade sapwort; his eyes had a yellow tinge.

“I want my knife back,” said Pazel.

“Liar!” spat Jervik. “The knife’s mine!”

“That knife was my father’s. You’re a thief, and you don’t dare use it.”

Jervik hit him again, harder. “Put up your fists, Muketch,” he said.

Pazel did not raise his fists. Snickering, Jervik and the others went about their duties, leaving Pazel blinking with pain and rage.

By the Sailing Code that governed all ships, Captain Nestef would have no choice but to dismiss a tarboy caught fighting. Jervik could risk it: he was a citizen of Arqual, this great empire sprawling over a third of the known world, and could always sign with another ship. More to the point, he wore a brass ring engraved with his Citizenship Number as recorded in the Imperial Boys’ Registry. Such rings cost a month’s wages, but they were worth it. Without the ring, any boy caught wandering in a seaside town could be taken for a bond-breaker or a foreigner. Few tarboys could afford the brass ring; most carried paper certificates, and these were easily lost or stolen.

Pazel, however, was a bonded servant and a foreigner—even worse, a member of a conquered race. If his papers read Dismissed for Fighting, no other ship would have him. He would be cut adrift, waiting to be snatched up like a coin from the street, claimed as the finder’s property for the rest of his days.

Jervik knew this well, and seemed determined to goad Pazel into a fight. He called the younger boy Muketch after the mud crabs of Ormael, the home Pazel had not seen in five years. Ormael was once a great fortress-city, built on high cliffs over a blue and perfect harbor. A place of music and balconies and the smell of ripened plums, whose name meant “Womb of Morning”—but that city no longer existed. And it seemed to Pazel that nearly everyone would have preferred him to vanish along with it. His very presence on an Arquali ship was a slight disgrace, like a soup stain on the captain’s dress coat. After Jervik’s burst of inspiration, the other boys and even some of the sailors called him Muketch. But the word also conveyed a sort of wary respect: sailors thought a charm lay on those green crabs that swarmed in the Ormael marshes, and took pains not to step on them lest bad luck follow.

Superstition had not stopped Jervik and his gang from striking or tripping Pazel behind the captain’s back, however. And in the last week it had grown worse: they came at him in twos and threes, in lightless corners belowdecks, and with a viciousness he had never faced before. They may really kill me (how could you think that and keep working, eating, breathing?). They may try tonight. Jervik may drive them to it.

Pazel had won the last round: Jervik was indeed afraid to stab him in front of witnesses. But in the dark it was another matter: in the dark things were done in a frenzy, and later explained away.

Fortunately, Jervik was a fool. He had a nasty sort of cunning, but his delight in abusing others made him careless. It was surely just a matter of time before Nestef dismissed him. Until then the trick was to avoid getting cornered. That was one reason Pazel had risked climbing aloft. The other was to see the Chathrand.

For tonight he would finally see her—the Chathrand, mightiest ship in all the world, with a mainmast so huge that three sailors could scarce link arms around it, and stern lamps tall as men, and square sails larger than the Queen’s Park in Etherhorde. She was being made ready for the open sea, some great trading voyage beyond the reach of Empire. Perhaps she would sail to Noonfirth, where men were black; or the Outer Isles that faced the Ruling Sea; or the Crownless Lands, wounded by war. Strangely, no one could tell him. But she was almost ready.

Pazel knew, for he had helped in his small way to ready her. Twice in as many nights they had sailed up to Chathrand’s flank, here in the dark bay of Sorrophran. Both had been cloudy, moonless nights, and Pazel in any case had been kept busy in the hold until the moment of arrival. Emerging at last, he had seen only a black, bowed wall, furred with algae and snails and clams like snapped blades, and smelling of pitch and heartwood and the deep sea. Men’s voices floated down from above, and following them, a great boom lowered a platform to the Eniel’s deck. Onto this lift went sacks of rice and barley and hard winter wheat. Then boards, followed by crates of mandarins, barberries, figs, salt cod, salt venison, cokewood, coal; and finally bundled cabbages, potatoes, yams, coils of garlic, wheels of rock-hard cheese. Food in breathtaking quantities: food for six months without landfall. Wherever the Great Ship was bound, she clearly had no wish to depend on local hospitality.

When nothing more could be stacked, the lift would rise as if by magic. Some of the older boys grabbed at the ropes, laughing as they were whisked straight up, fifty feet, sixty, and swung over the distant rail. Returning on the emptied lift, they held bright pennies and sweetmeats, gifts from the unseen crew. Pazel cared nothing for these, but he was mad to see the deck of the Chathrand.

His life was ships, now: in the five years since Arqual swallowed his country, Pazel had spent less than two weeks ashore. The previous night, when the lift rose for the last time, caution had deserted him: he had seized a corner rope. Jervik had pried his fingers loose, sending him crashing back to the deck of the Eniel.

But tonight the little ship bore no cargo, just passengers: three quiet figures in seafarers’ cloaks, on this passage of a single night from Besq to Sorrophran. They kept apart from the crew, and even one another. Now, as the blue gaslights of the Sorrophran Shipworks came into view, these three pressed forward, seemingly as eager as Pazel himself for a glimpse of the legendary ship.

One of the three, to Pazel’s great excitement, was Dr. Ignus Chadfallow. He was a slender man with worried eyes and large, educated hands. An Imperial surgeon and scholar of note, Chadfallow had once saved the Emperor and his Horse Guard from the deadly talking fever by placing men and horses alike on a six-week diet of millet and prunes. He had also, single-handedly, saved Pazel from slavery.

The three passengers had boarded at sunset. Pazel and the other tarboys had shoved and shouldered one another at the rail, competing for the chance to lug footlockers aboard for a penny or two. Spotting Chadfallow, Pazel had leaped, waving, and nearly shouted Ignus! But Chadfallow shot him a dark look, and the greeting died in his throat.

As Nestef welcomed his passengers, Pazel tried in vain to catch the doctor’s eye. When the cook shouted, “Tarry!” he sprang down the ladderway ahead of the other boys, for it was Nestef’s habit to greet new passengers with a mug of blistering spiced tea. But tonight there was more to the offerings: the cook loaded the tea-tray with muskberry biscuits, red ginger candies and lukka seeds to be chewed for warmth. Balancing these delicacies with great care, Pazel returned to the topdeck and walked straight to Chadfallow, his heart thumping in his chest.

“If you please, sir,” he said.

Chadfallow, his eyes on the moonwashed rocks and islets, seemed not to hear. Pazel spoke again, louder, and this time the doctor turned with a start. Pazel smiled uncertainly at his old benefactor. But Chadfallow’s voice was sharp.

“Where’s your breeding? You’ll serve the duchess first. Go on!”

Cheeks burning, Pazel turned away. The doctor’s coldness hurt him more than any blow from Jervik could. Not that it was altogether a surprise: Chadfallow often appeared frightened of being seen with Pazel, and never spoke to him at length. But he was the closest thing to family Pazel had left in the world, and he had not laid eyes on him for two years.

Two years! His hands, blast them, were trembling. He had to swallow hard before he spoke to the duchess. At least, he hoped she was the duchess, a bent and ancient woman three inches shorter than Pazel himself, who stood by the foremast mumbling and worrying the gold rings on her fingers. When Pazel spoke she raised her head and fixed him with her gaze. Her eyes were large and milky blue, and as she stared at him, her dry lips twisted into a smile.

“Ehiji!”

Her crooked hand shot out; a nail scraped his cheek. He had shed tears. The crone put her moistened finger to her lips and grinned all the wider. Then she fell upon the tea service. First she popped the three largest ginger candies into her mouth, and slid a fourth into her pocket. Next she produced an old, scorched pipe from the folds of her cloak. As Pazel watched, aghast, she tapped the half-burned plug of tobacco into the bowl of lukka seeds, stirred with a thumb and then crushed the whole mixture back into her pipe, whispering and squeaking to herself all the while. Her eyes found Pazel’s again.

“Got a flint?”

“No, ma’am,” said Pazel.

“That’s Lady Oggosk to you! Fetch a lamp, then.”

It was difficult to fetch anything while holding the tea-tray. Pazel thought his arms would break, hoisting a brass deck lamp heavy with walrus oil as Lady Oggosk struggled with her pipe. Wafts of burning walrus, tobacco and lukka seeds flooded his nostrils, and the Lady’s breath as she puffed and hiccuped was like a draft from a ginger-scented tomb. At last the pipe lit, and she cackled.

“Don’t cry, my little monkey. He hasn’t forgotten you—oh, not for an instant, no!”

Pazel gaped at her. She could only mean Chadfallow, but what did she know of their connection? Before he could find a way to ask, she turned from him, still chuckling to herself.

The third passenger was a merchant, well groomed and well fed. At first glance, Pazel thought him ill: he had a white scarf wrapped tight about his neck, and one hand rested there as if nursing a sore spot. He cleared his throat with a painful noise—CHHRCK!—nearly making Pazel spill the tea. The man had an appetite, too: four biscuits vanished into his mouth, followed by the next largest ginger candy.

“You’re not very clean,” he said suddenly, looking Pazel up and down. “Whose soap do you use?”

“Whose soap, sir?”

“Is that a difficult question? Who makes the soap you scrub your face with?”

“We’re given potash, sir.”

“You’re a servant.”

“Not for much longer, sir,” said Pazel. “Captain Nestef has extended me his hand of friendship, for which I bless him thrice over. He says I have genuine prospects, with my flair for languages, and—”

“My own prospects are excellent, of course,” the man informed him. “My name is Ket—a name worth remembering, worth jotting down. I am about to make transactions valued at sixty thousand gold cockles. And that is just one trading voyage.”

“How grand for you, sir. I say, sir! Would you be sailing on the Chathrand?”

“You will not see sixty thousand in your lifetime—nor even six. Go now.”

He placed something on the tea-tray and waved Pazel off. Pazel bowed and withdrew, then looked at the object. It was a pale green disc, stamped with the words ket soap.

One of those sixty thousand coins would have suited him better, but he hid the soap in his pocket nonetheless. Then he looked at the tray and his heart sank. He had nothing left for Chadfallow but a small rind of ginger and a broken biscuit.

The doctor ignored these, but pointed at the tea flask. Carefully, Pazel filled a mug. The doctor wrapped his long fingers around it, raised it to his lips and inhaled the steam, as he had told Pazel one should in cold weather, to “vivify the nostrils.” He did not look at the boy, and Pazel did not know whether to stay or leave. At last, very softly, the doctor spoke.

“You’re not ill?”

“No,” said Pazel.

“Your mind-fits?”

“They’re cured,” said Pazel quickly, very glad they were alone. No one on the Eniel knew about his mind-fits.

“Cured?” said the doctor. “How did you manage that?”

Pazel shrugged. “I bought some medicine in Sorhn. Everyone goes to Sorhn for that kind of thing.”

“Everyone does not live under the influence of magic spells,” said Chadfallow. “And how much did they charge you for this . . . medicine?”

“They took . . . what I had,” admitted Pazel, frowning. “But it was worth every penny. I’d do it again tomorrow.”

Chadfallow sighed. “I dare say you would. Now what about your teeth?”

Pazel looked up, startled by the quick change of focus: his mind-fits were the doctor’s favorite subject. “My teeth are just fine,” he said carefully.

“That’s good. But this tea is not. Taste it.”

Chadfallow passed him the cup, and watched as he drank.

Pazel grimaced. “It’s bitter,” he said.

“More bitter for you than me. Or so you may well imagine.”

“What do you mean by that?” Pazel’s voice rose in confusion. “Why are you all so odd?”

But like the duchess and the soap man, Chadfallow merely turned to face the sea. And all through that night’s crossing he showed no more interest in Pazel than in the common sailors who bustled around him.

From the Hardcover edition.

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Customer Reviews

Average Rating 4
( 46 )
Rating Distribution

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(15)

4 Star

(22)

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(6)

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See All Sort by: Showing 1 – 20 of 46 Customer Reviews
  • Posted March 1, 2010

    I Also Recommend:

    A classic adventure and a fun read

    This is a great modern fantasy with a traditional adventure flavor a la Melville or even Dickens. The world building is first rate, descriptions are vivid, and the pace quickly builds into a page-turner. If you find it slow going at first, just keep going and you'll get sucked up in it soon enough.

    It has quality world building, strong characters, and a rollicking story.

    The only downfalls are the rushed and jumbled ending, and the tendency to get a bit sappy and YA novelish. Then again, the warm n fuzzy factor makes it a nice chaser for something like George R R Martin or Joe Abercrombie, and also makes it a nice choice to read with your whole family (death and gore are both limited, sex is apparent to adults but not to children because the young protagonists don't really know what it is, beyond kissing).

    I'm not sure i'd place this up with the works of Scott Lynch, Pat Rothfuss, or George R. R. Martin, but then again, those aren't books i'd read with my children. If you ever in your life enjoyed Treasure Island, give this a shot. It's a good old fashioned adventure, with fantasy added in.

    4 out of 5 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Posted March 13, 2009

    more from this reviewer

    This is an exhilarating seafaring young adult fantasy

    The four decade old hot and cold war between the Mzithrin and Arquali Empires remain unabated as both claim Crownless Lands that borders each nation and is abundant in natural resources. However, the first dramatic change between the hostilities in years occurs when the sorcerer's floating city fortress the Imperial Merchant Ship Chathrand brings the ambassador's daughter Thasa as a bride prize to marry a royal and forge a treaty between the empires.

    However, though both emperors agree to this marriage, neither side trusts the other. Both kingdoms also remain ignorant of stowaways on the vessel. Soon on board "The Great Ship", which seems to have vanished without wreckage anywhere, simmering distrust ignites into battles. Assassins lurk everywhere and no one is safe especially when each of the major sides and a few outsiders like Pazel the blessed-cursed tarboy, miniature sized warriors and sentient beasts learn of the Red Wolf artifact thought mythical but on "The Wind Palace" Chathrand believed real.

    This is an exhilarating seafaring young adult fantasy that grips the audience from the onset as everyone on board "The Great Ship" knows lethal stalkers and betraying rats lurk around every corner. No one is safe as the stakes rise from two empires seeking peace after four decades of hostility to THE RED WOLF CONSPIRACY. Fans will want to follow the adventures of those on board the vanished Chathrand as the vessel goes where no one recently has gone before and those who once did never returned.

    Harriet Klausner

    2 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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

    Posted July 2, 2013

    Very slow read

    The author works to hard to try to dress up a mediocre storyline with too many charsctors introduced too early. You wind up having to almost take your own notes in order to remember all the complex names. I gave up at 230 pages in.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Posted June 13, 2013

    more from this reviewer

    The Red Wolf Conspiracy Book One of the Cathrand Voyages By Robe

    The Red Wolf Conspiracy
    Book One of the Cathrand Voyages
    By Robert V.S. Redick




    Pazel is stranded by those he trusted and is left to fend for himself he soon finds himself on board The Cathrand, a six hundred year old behemoth of a ship. Also on board the ship is Thasha who is on her way to her betrothed in order to seal the unity of Arqual and Mzithrin Empire, but it soon becomes apparent that the true mission of the Cathrand is not peace but war Thasha and Pazel along with the help of some extraordinary companions can put a stop to it. 




    There is no way I could have done this book justice in my brief synopsis, so much takes place and there are so many varied and interesting characters. The book itself starts off a bit slow but this is due to introducing us to the characters, once the book does kick off though it is one twist and turn after another keeping you on the edge of your seat as you wait to see what will happen next. Robert V.S. Redick does a magnificent job of bringing each of his characters and even the side characters to life, but not only this he also adds in some stunning scenery on top of it being a high paced adventure. This is definitely one of the best fantasy novels I have come across and with an ending like this one I cannot wait to see what will be in store.  I was sent a free copy of this book for an honest review. 

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  • Posted December 31, 2012

    I thoroughly enjoyed this book.

    I thoroughly enjoyed this book.

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  • Posted November 14, 2012

    more from this reviewer

    THE RED WOLF CONSPIRACY by Robert Redick is a intricate fantasy

    THE RED WOLF CONSPIRACY by Robert Redick is a intricate fantasy revolving around a young cabin boy aboard a ship named Pavel who has the ability to 'understand' different languages. The attention to detail almost slows the story down, especially when trying to remember different kingdoms, peoples, characters, customs, and whose on who's side at what time!

    The author's imagination is amazing as he weaves his tale. The twists and turns, number of characters, places and events-astounding! We have tiny little people, giants, mages, sorcerers, kings, sailors, buried treasure, underwater creatures, curses, spells...and this is just book one of a trilogy!

    Through all of this, little Pavel is just trying to survive while somehow getting placed right in the middle of the tensions between two kingdoms.

    If you love a good fantasy read that will take you completely out of the world as we know it, this is your book! I can only say, "Pay Attention!" This is NOT a book that can be read quickly.

    This copy of The Red Wolf Conspiracy was provided by Netgalley and Random House Publishing Group - Del Rey Spectra in exchange for an honest review.

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  • Posted July 23, 2012

    Highly Enjoyable Read

    An amazing fantasy world built by the author.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted July 12, 2012

    LOVED IT!

    This was a great book. I have read all the books in the series so far, and they have been a good read. It does drag at times, but I like the characters and overall the writing flows well.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted May 27, 2012

    From The Red Wolf

    I know my title isn't very good or creative, its never been my stron suit. I found this book hard to put down. I just finished The Ruling Sea, and if the third book is just as good, I will gladly read anything the author writes.

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