7 October 2026
A hearty welcome to all! In today’s installment from the third book of The Redemption series, The Morgle Unmasked, we start the fourth chapter, joining Tevvy as he moves south from Holvar on his way to his father’s school in Rykelle, seeking information on the Mariskal, a salt-water swamp in which resides the morgle who has stolen Melbarth’s rod. . . . (28 March 2016) The full ebook version of this book is available for purchase from all ebook sellers. We remind all that the first book in this series, Chosen of the One, and the second book, Staff of Shigmar, are both free from Smashwords! Glossary links: Book 3, Book 2, Book 1
Chapter 4, Part 1
The power of Melbarth’s rod is phenomenal; the shortsighted fools at Melbarth had no idea what they kept in a display case! With this rod I can finally turn the wedaterem, discarded by the Great Lord and infesting this swamp, to my service, changing them from solitary creatures into a powerful army. . . .
from the Journal of Motodu, recovered by the Chosen in the Great Year
Translated by Hierarch Thalamar
Tevvy traveled south with the remnants of the seklesi army in the company of Marilee and Delgart, who were treated as heroes by most of the soldiers and officers, but when they reached Holvar after two days, he declined the offer to stay with them and join the victory party, stating that he wanted to get an early start the next morning. He spent the night in a seedy inn on the south of the river, leaving as the sun was rising. The road south followed the course of the Iorn River as it flowed toward the Inner Sea, passing a spur of the Monti-sterlastan, the Mountains of the Firm Star, to his right and west, and the Emerald Sea, to his left and east, a grassland bordered by the river to the north and west, the Inner Sea to the south, and the Skergrut Escarpment nearly 100 miles to the east. Herds of wild horses roamed the open plain, and Tevvy heard the familiar rumble of hooves about an hour after sunrise, as a herd galloped along the river bank then swerved east, deeper into the grassland, running for the pleasure of it. Tevvy shaded his eyes and watched until the herd faded to a blur of colors and a distant rumble. Legend held that at the dawn of history, the Emerald Sea ran for a thousand miles east, and that there were herds of horses large enough to carry the megatrem, largest of the giant creatures who walked on the earth. In these enlightened days, however, nobody believed such fairy-stories.
Late in the afternoon, Tevvy came to the bridge over the Iorn River, and the road leading west. There were only two passes over the Monti-sterlastan: Northpass, connecting Komfleu to Karble, and Southpass, connecting Kilnar to Loikurx, a village in the southern part of the Misty River Valley. The southern way hugged the spur of the mountains, passing just north of the Mariskal, a swamp running south to the sea, rumored to be the home of many strange and evil creatures. Parties of travelers or merchant caravans traveling west were always large and well-armed, leaving Kilnar hours before dawn and riding until they reached the Forsaken Outpost at the base of the pass many hours after sunset, a nervous journey of nearly 60 miles. The Fereghen kept an entire company of seklesem stationed at the outpost, constantly patrolling the road north of the swamp. In spite of this constant surveillance, travelers and caravans still disappeared, but many travelers and nearly all merchants preferred the southern route west to the northern, which would lead them to the uncomfortable questions and thorough searches conducted by the kortexem, who watched the road and pass more carefully than the seklesem, if that were possible, and the kortexem were well known for their strict enforcement of the law. Tevvy did not expect to meet anyone on the road at this hour, so he was quite surprised to see two travelers on the bridge, and more surprised by the fact that they were both on foot and arguing vociferously.
“You’ll ruin me, Jarell!” one shouted, pulling on the other’s arm. He was shorter, and his clothes were finer, but dirty and torn, and there was blood and dirt on his face and on the arm that was pulling on the taller wethi where the shorter wethi’s fine silk sleeve had nearly been torn off. “I hired you to guard my caravan,” he went on, “you must come back so I can salvage what is left!”
The taller wethi jerked his arm out of the shorter wethi’s grasp. He wore leather armor, helmet, and knee boots, and the boots were caked with dark mud. Scabbards for a short sword and dagger were hanging empty from the belt about his waist, and there were dark stains on his armor and tunic. He held his short sword in his right hand, and the blade was stained black, with the point broken off. “Forget it, Merik!” Jarell shouted. “You saw what happened to the others! I will not go back into that accursed swamp ever again!” he said each word slowly, and Tevvy could hear the fear in his voice. He turned and jogged away, and Tevvy got a clear view of his dirty face and the dried streaks of tears.
“You cannot leave me here!” Merik shouted. “We have a contract you are breaking!”
Jarell stopped and laughed. “Since you haven’t given me even an ayesu, I’d say we’re even.” Without another word, he turned south and jogged toward Kilnar.
Merik cursed at him, then he saw Tevvy watching him. “Young master,” his voice implored, “can you please help me? This traitor has ruined me!”
Tevvy pulled on the reins, stopping his pony in the entrance to the bridge, then he threw his left leg over the pommel of his saddle so that he was sitting sideways on his pony, looking down at the distraught merchant. He smiled as innocently as he could. “My good merchant, Merik, was it?” The merchant nodded. “What could a small, humble thief do that a large, mercenary like Jarell could not?”
Merik thought about this for a moment, put his hands on the pouches hanging from his belt, and took a step back. “A thief, you say?” he asked.
Tevvy nodded once. “Some have named us so,” he replied, “but I prefer professional scout and treasure finder, although I have learned recently that we were called the klitodwerem by the founders, so if you think that I will go back to your wagons and take your goods back from the monsters that killed and drove off all of your guards . . . ,” Tevvy left it hanging in the air.
Merik looked at him for a moment before responding. “No, I suppose not.”
“However,” Tevvy went on, “I’m guessing that you gave that oaf some sort of surety, a part of his fee, which you would like me to recover? Or perhaps, you simply want an escort into Kilnar, which I would be more than happy to do, in exchange for information?”
Merik looked more wary than before. “What kind of information?” he asked.
“What has happened to leave you in these dire circumstances?” Tevvy asked.
Merik’s face softened, and then turned bleak. “Horrible monsters! From the swamp!”
“Hold on,” Tevvy interrupted, “you’re starting in the middle! Were you traveling east or west?”
“West,” Merik replied, “we left Kilnar this morning, two hours after midnight, as is customary, so that we were entering the fringes of the Mariskal, the swamp, right at sunrise, but the monsters were there, waiting for us; they somehow knew we were coming.”
“Monsters? What kind of monsters?” Tevvy asked and slid down off his pony. “We should start walking toward Kilnar while we talk,” he suggested, gesturing south.
“No!” Merik exclaimed. “I have to go back! The monsters will have all my merchandise! They’ll ruin me!”
“You need to get help first,” Tevvy replied in a calm voice, seeing that the merchant was more than a little unbalanced. “Let me take you back to Kilnar . . . ,” he started to say, but Merik interrupted him again.
“No!” Merik exclaimed, grabbing and pulling on Tevvy’s arm. “You must help me save my goods from the monsters!”
“Okay, okay!” Tevvy said, seeing that he would get nowhere. He suddenly understood why Jarell had run off. “Here’s what we’ll do,” he said, thinking fast, “I’m guessing you haven’t had time to eat or drink anything? No? I just came from Shigmar,” he said, opening one of his saddlebags and digging for one of the sleeping potions he had borrowed from Klaybear, “where I’m good friends with a couple of green kailum,” Tevvy winked, “you know how trustworthy the green kailum are?” he asked. Merik nodded, confused. “Well, they gave me this special potion,” Tevvy went on, “a new energy drink that will sustain a person on long journeys, better than rations, cheaper to make.”
“Really?” Merik said, looking interested. “Are they looking for a way to market it? I might be able to help.”
“Here it is,” Tevvy said, pulling out the small vial and holding it up. “This is enough energy to keep a large wethi like yourself running all day long, or fighting monsters to save your goods,” he added slyly.
Merik held out his hand eagerly. “Let me try it.”
“Not so fast,” Tevvy replied, pulling back his arm. “It still behaves strangely sometimes,” he went on, “you see, the formula is not quite perfect, so you’ll need to climb onto my pony.”
Merik looked wary again. “Why?”
“Well, what usually happens,” Tevvy replied, “is the person gets really weak for the first few minutes, until the potion begins to work, then you will feel great.”
“Weak? Couldn’t I just sit down?” Merik asked, looking suspicious.
“No, some have actually fallen asleep for a time,” Tevvy admitted, “so if I put you on the pony and you are one of those who fall asleep, I can still start walking toward your wagons and not waste any of your time and valuable energy, since I know you really want to catch the monsters before they make off with all of your merchandise.”
Merik tried to jump onto Tevvy’s pony, snatching the sleeping potion out of his hand and popping the cork. Tevvy put a hand on his arm to stop him. “Please try and remember any odd feelings, sensations, or thoughts that you have while under the potion’s influence: it is, after all, experimental,” he said, smiling at him. Merik smiled back, drank the potion, and climbed onto the pony. Within seconds, Merik sank onto the pony’s neck, hands draped on either side. Tevvy quickly tied the sleeping merchant to the saddle, picked up the reins and led his pony south toward Kilnar.
On Friday, we will follow Tevvy into the village of Kilnar, where he discovers an inn with a familiar figure on its sign. Until then, we remind all that the first two books of this series, Chosen of the One and Staff of Shigmar, are free from Smashwords. Get this book, The Morgle Unmasked, from the links provided. Good reading!
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