A New Direction (Book Two of The Redhawk Series)

By Brad Bohlen

When a few elves are taken prisoner by orcs from the evil city of Bellusa, Redhawk, who's already on thin ice, is expelled from the elves for his indignation toward the complacent king. Waylaid by his own conscience, Redhawk must use all that he's learned if he wants to save the elven prisoners from a morbid fate. However, being a strong mind mage just might have a few advantages. . .
Venturing toward the human city of Sartae, where he's hoping to find what he needs to return home, Redhawk makes a few "uncommon" companions.
As the small band of odd-fellows face the many challenges that lay ahead, Redhawk starts to realize that the good people of Attaireo just might be in need of some help themselves. Sometimes, the best course of action isn't always the one you were striving for.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Brad Bohlen
• Release date: Dec 13, 2021
• ISBN: 9781737845836

Brad Bohlen

Growing up on a small farm in Minnesota, Brad Bohlen is a country boy at heart. Also a Wisconsin Registered Land Surveyor, Bohlen enjoys his own battle against the elements with hunting, fishing, and hiking through the woods looking for wild edibles. The Sword of Valoarem is the first book in the Redhawk series

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Book Two of The Redhawk Series

A

NEW

DIRECTION

Brad Bohlen

A New Direction

Copyright © 2021, 2016 Brad Bohlen

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced by any mechanical, photographic, or electronic process, or in the form of a phonographic recording, nor may it be stored in a retrieval system, transmitted, or otherwise be copied for public or private use, other than for fair use as brief quotations embodied in articles and reviews without prior written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. The people, corporations, organizations, institutions, circumstances, and events depicted are fictitious and a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance of any character to any actual person, either living or dead, is purely coincidental.

ISBN 13: 978-1-7378458-2-9

Library of Congress Control Number: 2021921683

SECOND EDITION

Printed in the United States of America

First Printing: 2016

Second Edition Published: 2021

Cover illustration © Tristram Drew.

Bohlen Publishing

Farmington, MN 55024

Table of Contents

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

TWENTY-ONE

TWENTY-TWO

TWENTY-THREE

ONE

Standing just inside the doorway of the little cottage, Redhawk tried to let go of the intense emotions from the altercations of the day. Finally regaining some semblance of rational thought, he started looking around at the

unfamiliar surroundings. The inside of this small cottage wasn’t plush by any means. There was a small kitchen area to his right; a moderate-sized dining and living room, complete with furnishings, to his left; and four doorways beyond. Inspecting the rest of the cottage, Redhawk learned that three of the doorways led to bedrooms—each with two single-sized bunk beds, along with dressers and nightstands—and the remaining door led into a bathroom, which even had a tub and toilet. It’d been almost eleven weeks since he’d seen such amenities. As he marveled at them, Redhawk thought it was an amazing thing how much even the idea of small luxuries like this could brighten his day. With the sink and stool virtually straight ahead of him, and the rather large tub to his right, Redhawk noticed the silver-colored faucet protruding from the wall above the sink.

I wonder, he thought as he reached for the handle to the right of the faucet.

"They do have running water! Redhawk gasped. Now I don’t have to keep carrying it in all the time."

After trying the handle on the left side and finding that it didn’t do anything, he looked around the room again. Spotting a large metal container located above the tub, near the ten-foot-high ceiling, he easily deduced that it was some sort of water heater.

Pulling down on the handle of the pull cord dangling next to it, he learned it was how they filled the container with water. Inspecting it closer, he also learned how to operate the larger-than-normal burner. And as the water was being heated—and after trying the ineffectual sink handle again and realizing it supplied the hot water—he left the room to continue his inspection of the cottage.

In the kitchen, the cupboards along the wall above the sink and countertop were full of pots, pans, and dishes. Also, there was something that looked like a cabinet that turned out to be a type of refrigerator-freezer. And on top of the counter were two small burners similar to the ones he had. Overall, the setup reminded him of some of the hunting and fishing cabins he’d been in when he was younger.

Since everything was set up to accommodate twelve people, it didn’t take Redhawk long to conclude that this cottage must be for the housing of additional or visiting guards. As he looked out the front windows, it was obvious to him why the king had housed him here: across the cartway, within easy view of the front door, were two guardhouses, complete with guards. With a bit of a scent in the air, it was also apparent he was close to the livery stables. Having grown up on a farm, however, Redhawk was accustomed to the scent, and it rather reminded him of home.

Curious as to what kinds of animals they had, he went outside and walked farther west to where the livery was. Standing at the entrance, Redhawk saw animals strikingly similar to horses lined up in the stalls. Recalling the information he’d received from Treesta, he realized that these were pallades; they stood over six feet high at the back and had two sets of splayed hooves on each leg.

One of the pallades in particular stood out to him: it was reminiscent of a white, brown-spotted Appaloosa he used to have when he was younger. As Redhawk moved closer to the stall, the curious pallade let out a whinny of excitement, and all at once the whole livery came alive. Some of the pallades softly whinnied, some snorted, and some just loudly sniffed the air, each one seeming to say in its own way, Come pay attention to me!

Stroking the neck of the spotted pallade, Redhawk heard someone call out in elvish, I’ll be with you in just a moment. Turning toward the formless voice, Redhawk watched a male elf come out of one of the far stalls, busy setting some items down and wiping his hands on a towel. What can I do for— the elf said, stopping abruptly at the surprise of seeing him. What do you want? I heard there was a human in the city, but I didn’t believe it!

Just admiring your fine pallades, Redhawk replied, trying to be cordial and polite. You keep a nice livery here.

Looking at him with curiosity, the elf just grunted as if to say, What’d you expect?

I didn’t mean to bother you, Redhawk continued. I didn’t even know anyone was here. I just saw that spotted pallade and he reminded me of one I used to have.

The elf still didn’t say a word but just kept curiously looking at him.

A bit uneasy now, Redhawk said, Well, I suppose I should leave you to your chores. Thank you for letting me see your animals.

As Redhawk turned to leave, the elf called out, You looking to purchase a pallade?

Not really. I was just curious, Redhawk replied, turning back toward him. But if you happen to come across an animal that can fly, give me a holler. I might be interested.

A winged animal is hard to come by, the inquisitive elf responded. And they’re not cheap.

Quickly deducing that the elf was trying to see if he had money, Redhawk stated, "Like I said, depending upon the animal, I might be interested."

I’ll keep that in mind, the elf replied as he turned around to resume his work.

Thank you, Redhawk said as he turned to leave. Have yourself a good evening. Walking back toward the cottage, Redhawk felt a sense of accomplishment: he’d actually had a somewhat civilized conversation with an elf besides Treesta! As the thought struck him that money—or the idea of it, anyway—was probably the reason for the elf’s cordiality, he figured it was at least a good start.

Back in the cottage, with the water now hot, it was time for a bath. When Redhawk had looked around before, he’d noticed they had actual soap—for nearly three months, he hadn’t even seen a bar of soap, let alone been able to bathe with one.

Lounging in the tub with the soothing scent of the soap filling the air, he started to feel the effects of the long day. Having had only two hours of sleep last night, he was sure looking forward to getting some rest, even though it was only just the beginning of evening. However, before he could even get fully dried off, the sound of someone rapping on the door sent him scrambling to cover himself.

Just a second, he called out. I just got out of the bath. Arriving at the door in nothing but a towel, Redhawk cracked it open and asked the female guard, Yes, what can I do for you?

The king has requested your presence for dinner tonight. You’re to be at the castle in an hour, the messenger stated, then abruptly starting to leave.

Wait a minute, Redhawk called out. I don’t know if I can do that. Please tell the king I really appreciate the offer, but I won’t be able to make it.

With a bit of a scowl on her face, the guard sternly responded, "The term requested is for cordiality purposes—it does not imply a choice."

But you don’t understand, Redhawk explained. The only clothes I have are either filthy or for use under my armor. Could you at least point me to where I can purchase some new ones?

I was only told to deliver the message—which I’ve done. The rest is your problem, she flatly replied before spinning on her heels and walking away.

Oh, wonderful! Redhawk griped aloud. How am I going to do this?

Hastily donning his clothes and armor again, Redhawk attempted to mentally contact Treesta, but he couldn’t get through. Evening was just in its infancy when he left the cottage, but already the streets that’d been bustling with people earlier were now rather quiet and sparsely populated. As Redhawk passed a few shops, he noticed that most of them were wrapping things up in preparation for closing. It seemed obvious that the whole of the city of Tridesdale was winding down for the night, which didn’t do anything to ease his sense of urgency. As Redhawk hurried down one of the cartways, which in appearance seemed to be something akin to decorative cobblestones, he tried again to contact Treesta, but the end result was the same as before.

He began to scurry along cartway after cartway, scanning the ground level shops, as well as those in the intertwining tree network above, desperately searching for a clothing shop. He was too wound up to pay much attention to some of the elves’ derogatory comments about having a human in their city, but their comments did sway him from seeking their assistance. Finally spotting a ground level shop that seemed to sell apparel, Redhawk breathed a sigh of relief. As he entered, however, the curator took one look at him, told him they were closing, and briskly ushered him out the door. At wits’ end, he began asking some elves on the streets where another shop was, but that proved equally fruitless—with some of them being downright rude.

After a while of searching, Redhawk contacted Treesta again and finally managed to get through. Frustrated and frantic, he stated with exasperation, Treesta, I need your help! The king has invited me to dinner, and I don’t have any clothes fitting for the occasion. You have to talk to him and tell him I can’t make it.

But you have to go, Treesta gasped in disbelief. Can’t you just buy some?

I’ve been to three different shops now, Redhawk explained. One said they were closing, one was closed, and the last one told me they won’t sell anything to a human. I’m out of options; I’m supposed to be at the castle in just a few minutes!

I don’t know what I can do to help, Treesta replied, her ‘voice’ conveying her concern.

Oh, I don’t think it matters anymore, Redhawk replied, throwing up his arms. I have to get going or I’m going to be late. I’ll just have to apologize to the king and hope for the best.

Hurrying through the city, Redhawk made his way back to the castle. As he was about to enter the great hall, however, an astonished guard halted his progress by drawing his sword and barking, What do you think you’re doing? You were told to come and dine with the king…and you show up in armor?

Redhawk started to reply, Please, just let—

Guards! Escort him in here! bellowed the king. And once Redhawk was ushered forward, the upset king asked, You were invited to dine with me tonight, and you show up in armor and carry weapons? Explain yourself!

Your Majesty, Redhawk uneasily replied, please forgive my attire. I tried to make my apologies, but I was told your invitation was not a request. I don’t own any clothes fitting for your presence; and when I tried to purchase some, I was met with closed doors. As for the weapons, again I apologize. I’ve noticed that many elves in your city carry weapons, even many of those who are seated at your table now. I was unaware I’d be under a different set of rules. It was also unintentional on my part; in my haste to attempt to find clothing, I neglected to take them off…Please, if I may give my apologies, I’ll leave your presence and not interrupt your evening any further.

Didn’t you think to ask the guard I sent for assistance? the king scowled.

Yes, Your Majesty, I did. But I was told it was my problem to figure out, Redhawk replied.

With his countenance softening a little, King Lemshee stated, I’ll overlook the offense this once. Now take your seat at the table so we may eat before everything gets cold.

Thank you, Your Majesty, Redhawk responded.

The king then nodded toward the guards, and Redhawk was ushered to an empty chair two places to the left of him.

With an elegantly dressed Treesta seated between him and the king, a nervous Redhawk managed to squeak out a quick hi before taking his seat.

After waving the guards out and quieting everyone down, the still standing king announced, "Tonight’s meal is given in celebration of the safe return of my niece, Treesta. And also—despite his armored appearance—as a means of saying thank you to the man who helped her. Without any further delay, let the feast begin!"

Uneasy in his chair—in spite of Treesta’s encouragement—Redhawk was unable to calm down much as the meal progressed. Clearly, he was the outsider, and although the other elves were cordial, their attitudes were derogatory and negative. After a lot of light conversation and a few uneasy questions, Redhawk left the castle to return to his cottage; he couldn’t even remember what he’d eaten. He’d been so uncomfortable that his usual admiration for fine delicacies just hadn’t been there. Glad that the whole ordeal was over, Redhawk retired for the night, hoping that tomorrow would be better.

TWO

About an hour past sunrise, Redhawk was dressed in his armor again and sitting at the cottage table, trying to figure out how to accomplish the things he wanted to do. Hearing another soft rap on the door, he opened it and saw the same female guard. Yes, what is it this time? he asked.

I’ve been sent by the king to guide you through the city and assist you in your endeavors, replied the guard. Please tell me what you’d like to accomplish, and I’ll do my best to help you.

Ah, I see, Redhawk stated. You must’ve drawn the short stick.

The king wasn’t pleased with my not assisting you yesterday, if that’s what you mean, she replied, her checks flushing a bit.

Well, why don’t we start with introductions? he said. My name is Redhawk. And you are?

My name is Felecia, but don’t think this makes us friends, she responded. "I just don’t want to be called hey, you. Now, where would you like to go?"

Redhawk didn’t even have to think about it. I think the first order of business should be to get some decent clothes. That way, I won’t have to go through last night’s mess again. I’m ready if you are. Shall we?

Following a fully armored Felecia, Redhawk was led through an unfamiliar part of the city to a clothing shop that’d just opened its doors. Felecia reminded the shop owner of the king’s orders concerning Redhawk—that he was to be treated justly and fairly, without regard to his race—and then she watched silently as Redhawk selected several outfits, including one that was quite majestic.

As Redhawk was stowing the clothes in his pack, Felecia stated with surprise, You must be rich. In less than an hour, you’ve spent more on clothes than I make in months. And your armor—where did you get that? I’ve never seen anything like it.

Thinking it best to be evasive, Redhawk just replied, Why don’t we take these back to the cottage? Then I’d like to know if there’s a tannery in town. I have a few hides I’d like to sell.

After returning to the cottage and dropping off the clothes, Redhawk then grabbed the bag of storage with the hides in it and again followed Felecia through the city until they arrived at a tannery. Pulling out the three darffy skins as well as the two scoarth skins, he inquired as to how much they were worth.

The elderly male elf replied, I’ll give you ten gold for all of them.

Before Redhawk could even think of a reply, Felecia barked at the curator, The king’s orders are that Mr. Redhawk is to be treated fairly! You know these are worth far more than what you’ve offered!

The elderly owner snottily responded, "That’s my final offer! It’s all I’m willing to pay to a human."

The king will hear about this! Felecia bellowed, her jaw clenched as she shook her finger in the curators’ direction. Mr. Redhawk, let’s take your business elsewhere. I know of another place where I believe you’ll get a fair price.

While a rather surprised Redhawk was placing the skins back in the bag, the now concerned shop owner started offering more for them in an attempt to appease Felecia. Felecia again pointed a finger at him and barked, It’s too late for that! The king will hear of your insolence! Now you’ll have to take up the matter with him.

Outside, Redhawk thanked her, and Felecia replied, Don’t flatter yourself; I didn’t do it for you. I did it because he defied the king’s orders.

Silently following an upset Felecia as she briskly made her way along, Redhawk was escorted to another part of the city. After some distance, Felecia broke the silence and explained that the tannery they were just at was the only one in the city, but the armories dealt with a lot of leather. Pointing to the shop just ahead, she thought it’d be a good spot to get a fair price. Entering, Felecia took the lead and asked the curator if he’d be interested in some skins. After receiving a yes, she motioned Redhawk forward.

Inspecting the skins, the owner seemed especially impressed with the darffy skins: apparently, they were only found higher in the mountains and were fairly rare and highly valued in these parts. Talking aloud to seemingly no one while adding things up in his head, the owner finally offered Redhawk a total of 105 gold for them all.

Quite surprised, Redhawk eagerly accepted his offer and lingered in the shop, looking at the many items for sale: Normally, he didn’t care for shopping, but with swords, knives, bows and arrows, and more adorning the walls and racks, Redhawk wasn’t in any too big of a hurry to leave. However, after concluding it’d be best to learn more about the types of energies before he spent money on things he may not need, Redhawk thanked the owner and told him he’d probably be back.

Outside, Felecia asked, What’s next on your list?

As Redhawk was just about to respond, Treesta mentally contacted him.

Holding up a finger and telling Felecia just a moment, Redhawk bent down to fiddle with his boot and responded to Treesta, What’s up, little one? I can’t talk for very long. I’m with one of the guards the king assigned to show me around.

I wanted to apologize for not having much time to talk, Treesta replied. Everything’s been so hectic since we arrived…What are you doing right now? Is there a place where we can meet?

I was just about to go to the library, Redhawk answered. If you wanted to meet me there, that’d be great.

Sure, I’ll see you there in a few minutes, Treesta responded, seemingly excited for the opportunity.

Standing up, Redhawk asked Felecia, Could you show me to the library?

It’s this way, was all Felecia said, and she turned and started down another cartway. Silently moving along at a brisk pace again, Redhawk was led through the city to a building east of the castle.

Entering, Felecia briefly spoke with the librarian before telling Redhawk, I’ll be outside. Just let me know when you’re ready to leave.

Redhawk was still getting acclimated to the library’s system of organization when Treesta entered and virtually bounced her way over to him. Then she gave him a big hug.

That leg seems to be working fine, Redhawk stated. So how’s everything else been going?

Wonderful! Treesta replied. I just wanted to say thank you for helping me. I’m so happy; I can hardly contain myself…How’s everything with you?

Well, let’s just say I’m still alive, Redhawk flatly replied. Right now I was trying to see if I could find some information about the name Valoarem. And I also thought the library might be the best place to start looking for information regarding that blue gemstone.

I can give you a hand with that, if you want? Treesta asked.

Sure, that’d be great, Redhawk answered. I’d appreciate the help.

As they riffled through the papers, looking for anything pertaining to the name Valoarem, Treesta suddenly asked, I thought you said one of the guards was with you?

Yeah, she’s waiting outside, Redhawk replied without even looking up.

"Ah, you didn’t say it was a female guard, Treesta said with a playful mien. If she was the one I saw on my way in, she’s pretty. What’s her name?"

Her name’s Felecia, Redhawk responded, still wading through the papers.

Well, don’t you think she’s pretty? Treesta queried.

Looking up and seeing Treesta’s beaming, inquisitive face, which seemed to say, ‘I’m not going to let this go until you answer me’, Redhawk replied, Yes, Treesta. I think Felecia is pretty. Now… Hearing an ahem behind him, Redhawk felt a streak of embarrassment course through his body as he turned and saw Felecia standing there. Yes? he managed to stammer out as a flush lit up his cheeks.

I was wondering, asked Felecia with a slight grin. If the princess is going to be with you for a while, would it be all right if I left to accomplish some other tasks? If you need me, you can just send word to the north gate.

Without hesitation Treesta playfully replied, That’ll be just fine, Felecia. I’ll make sure he gets home safely.

I guess so, Redhawk responded, the heat in his cheeks slowly abating. I think we’re going to be here awhile.

As Felecia was leaving, Redhawk mentally contacted Treesta and said, You little stinker; you did that on purpose! You knew she was standing behind me!

Yep, came the playful response from a beaming, bright-eyed Treesta, quite pleased with her success.

Shaking his head and chuckling, Redhawk thought, If given the opportunity, I just might have done the same thing. But after a moment, he sighed and said, All right, Treesta, I don’t know who put the lightning in your sock, but you’ve had your fun. Now we really need to concentrate on finding whatever information we can. I know it’s not fun, but I need to do this.

I know, Treesta replied, still grinning. I just couldn’t help myself. I’ll try to concentrate now.

After a couple of hours of searching, and more than a little help from the librarian, they finally found some information. At first it was a bit confusing to understand, considering the fact that the writing referred to different dispositions as distinctly separate classes: one entry might say something about the good humans, elves, or dwarves, while the next entry might include a passage regarding evil this or that—and it certainly didn’t help matters that the scribes didn’t always indicate which class they were talking about. However, with time, Redhawk got used to it and was able to follow it fairly readily. Reading through the bits and pieces of information that still survived, they learned that Valoarem had indeed been a good king who’d lived about fifteen hundred years ago—he’d been the king of a good human city called Taboria, which was described as being powerful and majestic. They also learned that, just like in Treesta’s story, the king had somehow opened a gateway to another land, described as the Land of The Lonely Moon; a land of pristine beauty that didn’t have the extreme dangers found in Attaireo. King Valoarem had been greatly pleased with his find and had taken many good dignitaries on trips to this new land. And all who ventured there had enjoyed the peaceful beauty and serenity it had to offer.

The dignitaries of the good races wanted to set up settlements in this new land, and it seemed from the writings that King Valoarem had been, at first, agreeable to this idea. However, something then changed, and King Valoarem had vehemently refused even the slightest access to the new land. The writings didn’t explain what changed, but it was expressly clear that the elven scribes’ attitudes and writing styles had changed as well: before the king’s refusal, the elven scribes had written about humans and dwarves in a cordial, respectful fashion. After this, however, the scribes’ writings had become more demeaning and cynical, especially toward humans.

It was difficult to determine an exact timeline from the bits and pieces of information, but it seemed to Redhawk that it wasn’t more than a few years after King Valoarem’s refusal that he’d sent an envoy to the elves; at first requesting and then pleading for assistance. There wasn’t a lot of detail in the writings, but it seemed clear