The larger afternoon crowd filled its ranks from the mothers who had laundry to wash in the morning, farmers done with their chores sent into town for supplies, and other local folk who'd heard the preacher was back after some months. They pressed close, some elbowing their way through onlookers to get nearer to the table to get a look at the thief. A gaunt, dirty youth - past his adolescent years but not quite a man - shielded himself behind Norben's shoulder. His left arm was being tugged by an older, grizzled man in studded leather and a leather cap, club at his side hanging off a firm tanned belt. Some of the men in the crowd were shouting encouragement; volume was quickly rising, and Norben knew the dangerous strengths of a mob.
"Now Constable," he began, speaking quietly enough that the audience would need to hush to hear. And they did. "I understand this young man has committed sin in Tresco. I understand that the letter of the law says he should face punishment for his crimes." The young thief was the only person present to glance over at the pile of fist-sized stones that had been heaped up against the village well. "However, he's given himself up to the lord. The Light above has caused him to see the sin of his ways, and he just wants a chance to explain. Surely the wise Constable's heart isn't so black to allow this child a chance at redemption."
"Now look here, preacher. The Angel of Justice is the patron of Tresco, and I can't rightly let this boy - this thief - slip by without the Hall deciding his fate. Wouldn't be right. I'm a religious man, and my conscience says this boy needs t'answer for his crimes."
Norben frowned plaintively at the gathered crowd as they murmured support, some nodding silently. "Angel o' Justice." *yeah* "'bout two weeks back, I passed through a town called Westshine. Farmin' town jus like this one here. Folks there caught a thief, jus like this child here, stealin' livestock. Know what they did? Prayed real hard for him, made'em pray too. Said Angel o' Mercy wouldn't abide by punishment." *justice here - yeah* "So which one's right? Which one walks the path o'the Lord?" *.....* "Son, let me tell you what for," he spoke to the Constable, turning back away from the placated villagers. "This boy look like a Demon to you? Think he wants to do you an' yours harm? The Lord's light shinin' on him right now, showin' me he's good inside. Game himself up, didn't he? Right here in the square, walked right up, told everyone himself. Are you a bettin' man, Constable? I bet this boy's tryin' to do right by someone, might be in some trouble you don't know. Should hear him out, outa the goodness of your heart, shouldn't you?"
"But the Angel of Justice says..."
"Boy, I'm a servant of the Lord too, you wanna worship me? You worship the deacon that runs that chapel down the road? You gonna listen to one facet of the gospel an' ignore the rest? I don't see no angels here. You ever see an angel? You ever see an angel?" *no...nuh-uh..* "Well alright then. Know what you do see? Ever'day? Those suns up there, the light of the Lord, ever'day, shinin down on you, giving you sustenance, light, life, warmth. Settin' the path of the righteous is the Lord's and his alone. The rest of us just walk it. You got that?"
*But what about the Angel of the Heavens up there with him?*
"You folks don't even know the gospel, the proper one," he chastised, frowning again, drawing silence. "Imma tell you. Back before there even was light, there were only four things. The Earth, our ancestors, darkness, and the Demons. They walked the surface like us, tortured us, slaughtered us, bathed in our blood. For centuries they bred us for their pleasure, 'till one day, one man stood up. One man, heart o' gold, said no, this isn't right. He fought back, tought men how to fight, how to hope. Tought them dignity and faith and honor and community. Showed them how to make cities, how to defend themselves. Well this made the Demons rightful angry, and they warred, Demons 'n humans, for decades, till finally the Devil himself crawled up from the blackest pits of night. This man himself fought the Devil.." *Devil?* "The Prince of Demons, ma'am. So evil just looking at him can turn a man's soul black. But this one man, he had the Light in 'em. He fought the Devil across the Earth for weeks till finally he push'em to the edge of the Earth, to the final cliff, end o' the world. But the Devil fought hard, and the only way he could push'em off was to take a blow himself. Devil's black finger ripped through him, took out his guts, but it left enough opening for the man to land a final knock that sent the Devil falling into the Void where he belongs. Man fell down on the edge of the Void, bleedin' t'death, until one woman who'd followed him all those weeks found him, wrapped his wound, held'em tight right there in the night 'n sang to him. She cried and she sang to soothe him knowing he'd die right there. When he'd spilled his last drop of blood, the Light tore out from his chest. The First Light, they called it, an' they saw the Earth for true. It burned so bright it melted the skin right off the Demons, and they ran back underground. Folks, the Daylord was born anew, and he ascended to the sky so he could illumine the whole Earth. Man was free to live, and the Light of the Lord kept the men from sin and inviting the Demons back into their world."
*But the other sun..*
"Ma'am, that's the light of Love. That woman who sang, who was there when the Light came to be, well she got blinded. She lived the rest of her life without again knowing the Light's beauty. When she finally passed, the Lord took pity on her, an he brought her soul up to the heavens with him, so she could see the Earth from up high. Now together they dance the sky for eternity, the Lord's sun and that little one, that's the little bit he gave over to her. Ain't no angels about it, ma'am. That's husband an' wife up there."
Norben let the crowd whisper amongst themselves, neighbors and friends arguing or confirming their opinions on the story he'd just told. There were some stifled tears, primarily from the womenfolk - that story always got'em. The Constable had released his grip on the thief, opening his mouth to speak again, but was interrupted.
"It's my pa, good sir. I did it for my pa. He's sick somethin' fierce, he's...well he's a cutler, but he'd taken a job from...well, those Bloodhound Gang toughs up near the hills. Said they'd pay good money to sharpen their swords, and he didn't have a choice, but he didn't want the folks to know he'd taken a job from the Bloodhounds. Constable'd see him in the gallows. Well pa did the job, but then they just stabbed him, right there in the house. They took off laughting, n' he was bleedin', and I couldn't tell anyone 'cause then I'd have to say what happened. I wrapped him up best I could, but there was so much blood. And they never paid, and we didn't have any money, and we needed herbs, and he was cold so I took some blankets, and some food, and..."
"Child, I'll take it from here. You see, this boy ain't got the Demon in him. He maybe stole some of your food and blankets, but he was doing it for love, for his pa. And your Angel of Justice would'a seen him and his pa hanged. That's not the way of the Lord. But you can atone, folks of Tresco. Boy, you take some big men, you go run to your pa, carry his bed out into the Light. Tresco will know both justice and mercy today, and will also come to understand the love of the Lord."
******
Everybody not working a field was circling the small dusty road outside the cutler's thatched home. A pallet had been placed out of the lengthening shadows, supporting a pale man in his red-stained clothes. He hadn't even been changed or washed. His breath was raspy, the wet gasps of a man approaching twilight. It seemed that he'd taken a stab in the thigh, but without proper bandaging it was allowed to bleed out, likely infected by now. It was a miracle he'd survived this long.
"Child," he began, speaking to the aged father laying below him, "a soul must be cleansed before it can pass to the Lord. You have sin you must atone for. As such, this is not your time. I call upon the blessing of the Daylord, as his radiance shines down upon this body, to reject this soul, to restore this flesh. The Tears of the Lord cleanse you..." He laid one hand down on the man's chilled forehead, the other pulling a tiny glass vial from his pocket and flicking off the waxed cork. "Tears of the Lord replenish you. Tears of the Lord fill your veins, become your blood and flesh, slake your fever. You shall not know death today. You shall not know death. You shall not know death! Be healed and drink of his Light!" He poured the meager contents of the vial over the exposed wound as the light overhead seemed to concentrate over the pallet. Dropping the vial, he clutched his dual-disc emblem hanging off a silver chain from his nexk. A beam of effulgent splendor encapsulated Norben and the dying man for but a moment before it became a circular wave of raw energy, pulsing out through the dozens that had gathered to witness the scene. When the light faded, the washed wound was now whole. Reverent whispering spread through the assembly; the tailor's small finger cuts had mended, Old Brin's aches and pains had subsided just slightly.
"Those who worship the Lord and only the Lord shall know his Love. He watches over the faithful." Norben smiled, slyly pocketing the spent vial again, as he looked out onto a suddenly adoring crowd. "Let us praise Him." He turned his face skyward, opening his palms to the sun and began chanting. "O Lord, blinded by your light, yet I see. Warmed by your sun..."
******
"Now child," he hushed, opening the lid on the wooden box he'd left behind in the square, faithful that none of the many deposited coins had been taken during his absence. "You listen good. It's between you and the Lord to find forgiveness, it don't happen just one day 'cause I say so. You take this money and you do right by your pa. You pay back everyone you done stole from and you apologize. From the heart, mind. If you don't mean it, they'll know. You settle up your debts and get some food in your pa. And you stay away from those Bloodhounds, y'hear? Agents o' the demons, they are. Sneakin' into town under the cover o'night, secret business. They come back you say no, scream bloody murder 'till they go." He spared a quick glance to the horizon; he'd little time left before he needed to be back on the road. He didn't want to have to sing the Dusk Song here in town and be stuck for the night. Hastily he stacked ten golden coins and an uncounted pile of silver and copper on the otherwise cleared table. "You take this and you walk in the Light, son." Any price was worth that look of dawning conversion. Another soul had been saved from the Demons, and perhaps a few more besides.
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