14 October 2016
A good day to all our readers! In today’s installment from the third book of The Redemption series, The Morgle Unmasked, we begin Chapter 5 as Tevvy reports to Klaybear, Klare, and Rokwolf what he has learned in Kilnar, but his report is interrupted by people crashing through his door and window. . . . (18 April 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 5, Part 1
All Guild members must be trained in every conceivable form of combat, both armed and unarmed: the survival and supremacy of the Guild depends upon, not the profits we amass, but the information gathered by our agents; this constant flow of information requires the hour by hour survival of our agents. Thus, combat training, along with the corollary skills to evade and escape capture, is principle to any Guild training program. . . .
from Thieves’ Guild Training Manual, adapted by Headmaster Meekor for his klitodweri school in Rykelle
“So that is what I discovered today, about the swamp and the inn bearing the image of the morgle,” Tevvy’s head said, floating above the center of the table in their sanctuary. Klaybear sat with one end of breath-giver resting upon his shoulder, the eye-shaped emerald glowing behind his head, the other end touching the table and maintaining the small archway to the awemi. Klare sat beside him, her chair turned so that she was in contact with her husband; Rokwolf stood behind and between them, the emerald’s glow illuminating his face eerily, each of them also touching breath-giver, so that on Tevvy’s end, he could see all three of their heads.
“I am more troubled by the news that the merchant caravan was turned back,” Rokwolf noted.
“The merchant said that it seemed to him as if the creatures were waiting for them,” Tevvy replied, “as if they knew when and where they would be.”
“They probably did,” Rokwolf said, “I imagine that the inn serves as a source of information for caravans traveling east, creating an easy source of goods and money for the morgle.”
“That was what I was thinking,” Tevvy said, “but I wonder how it could have gotten the news quickly enough to send the creatures in time to meet the caravan.”
Rokwolf laughed. “The same way you are passing on to us this information, over 150 miles away.”
The awemi’s small brow wrinkled. “Are you suggesting that the morgle has discovered how to communicate using the rod?” Tevvy asked.
Rokwolf shrugged. “Why not? The morgle are powerful tekson and highly intelligent creatures.”
“It certainly would not beyond the skills of his race,” Klaybear added.
Tevvy shook his head. “I still cannot fit that room into the picture.”
“The morgle must feed,” Rokwolf said. “I would bet that is what has happened to the people of Kilnar who have gone missing: they were drugged, led by the morgle’s agents into that room, where it opened a doorway from its fortress. They were led through to become its next meal.”
Klare turned pale. “It eats people?” she asked.
Rokwolf nodded. “Just their brains, yes.”
Klare fled from the room, beginning to retch.
“Isn’t it a bit late in the day for that?” Tevvy asked, raising one eyebrow.
Klaybear sighed and shook his head. “She just woke up.”
“Aah,” Tevvy said, then looked around suddenly. He stood up, and Klaybear and Rokwolf’s view of him changed, much like on the day during their trial, when the kortexi had shown the mekala, using will-giver, a view of the sacred kailu glade. They were now looking down from above on Tevvy’s small room at the Jakal, Tevvy standing ready with daggers in each hand. They heard the sound of someone crashing against the door, the door bursting open, then they saw two heavily cloaked figures leap into the small room. At the same time, a third cloaked figure rolled through the open window, landing on the bed. Without turning to look, the small klitodweri jumped and kicked out to the side, catching the figure kneeling on the bed, who was trying to get to his feet, in the side of the head. He sprawled on the bed cursing and holding his head. As Tevvy came down, one dagger flew toward the first figure through the door, hitting his throat with a sickening crunch; he crashed into the small table, reducing it to splinters.
“He’s good, isn’t he,” Klaybear noted with admiration.
The third assailant looked up and paused, staring up at Klaybear.
“Master?” he said, “but you haven’t spoken . . . you’re not the. . . ,” but what he was going to say was lost as he was surrounded by red light, and he began to writhe and scream in agony, as if he were being crushed by some giant, although invisible, hand. They heard the sound of crunching bones, then he went silent and limp, dropped to the floor like a life-sized, rag doll. The remaining thug, still crouched on the bed, tried to scramble to the window; the cloud of red light did not try to grab him, as it had the first: it struck him, like a naughty child, with enough force to knock out the wall of Tevvy’s small room. He nearly went out by the window, smashing through both window and wall, landing on the roof of the building next door. The red light momentarily touched the third thug, then surrounded Tevvy. The awemi braced himself for what he could not fight against; Klaybear frantically thought through the ortheks he knew, trying to think of something that would help, but the moment the red light tried to touch Tevvy, a brilliant white light erupted from Tevvy’s verghrenum, surrounding him.
The awemi looked down at his wrists, startled by what was happening, then looked up at Klaybear and Rokwolf, a surprised look on his face. Red sparks crackled around him as the red light, and the mind driving it, attempted to break his shield. This battle did not last for long; the sparks became fewer and feebler; the red light weakened, dimmed, and then finally winked out. For a moment more, the white light surrounded Tevvy, then it, too, winked out. The awemi shook his head.
“I was hoping we could question them,” Tevvy sighed, looking around at his wrecked room.
“I doubt we would have learned much from them,” Rokwolf noted. “You better move on tonight.”
Tevvy nodded. “Yes, I’m sure there are others. The innkeeper is a friend of my father’s . . . ,” he looked toward the door, “I hear him coming; I’ll have him sneak me out the back and let out that I was taken by parties unknown.”
“Right,” Rokwolf said. “We’ll contact you tomorrow and pass word on to the others.”
Klaybear lifted the staff just as the innkeeper pounded into the room.
“It would have been useful to question them,” Klaybear noted to his twin.
“As I said,” Rokwolf sighed, “I doubt that they could have told us more than they did.”
Klaybear looked up at his brother. “What do you mean?”
“Did you notice the reaction of the one who saw us floating in the air as disembodied heads?”
“He paused to look up at us,” Klaybear replied.
“Do you have any idea what a shock it is,” Rokwolf replied, “to see someone’s head floating in the air in front of you? When Blakstar did it to me the first time, I thought I had gone mad, but I had seen the sword open archways before, so I managed not to shout in fright. What would be the reaction of someone unfamiliar with the archways with which you and I are familiar?”
Klaybear laughed. “You’re right,” he said, “he probably would go mad.”
“And yet,” Rokwolf went on, “that wethi, whoever he was, not only was not surprised by it, he acted as if it had happened before.”
“Yes,” Klaybear said, catching on, “he even thought we were his ‘master.’”
“And he wondered why his master had not contacted him recently,” Rokwolf said.
“But what is recently?” Klaybear asked.
Rokwolf thought for a moment, still leaning on the back of his twin’s chair. “Maybe only a few days,” he said.
“Why?” Klaybear asked.
“The wethi Tevvy found, whose caravan had been attacked,” Rokwolf explained, “might have been gathering mercenaries for a week or two before he hired enough to guard his caravan. We can guess that he would have found enough within the last few days, then set the date for their departure. That information could have been passed on to the morgle by his agent, which was the last time that agent spoke to his master. Since then, the agent has not heard from his master, which is unusual.”
“How did they know to attack Tevvy?” Klaybear asked.
“Tevvy did say that he felt someone was watching him as he left the cellar,” Rokwolf went on. “The agent had standing instructions to capture anyone snooping around, and I would bet that the agent was probably given descriptions of each of us, in case he came across one of us.”
“How likely is that?” Klaybear asked.
“I’d bet that there is a Green Beast in every city of the realm,” Rokwolf replied.
“It makes sense,” Klaybear said, “but is rather frightening, for us.”
Rokwolf shrugged and grabbed his twin’s shoulder. “It keeps us on our toes,” he said, grinning, then turned to leave. “I won’t be long.”
We will continue with Klaybear and Klare on Friday, as Klaybear tries to recount to his wife all that she has forgotten. 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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