Truth's Belt 1.1

Chapter One

Tobin pulled his heavy cloak tight about him as he shuffled through the empty streets of Chejiro. Long into the night, the chill breeze of winter was hard for an old man like himself to tolerate. He gripped the cloak even tighter grimacing as the breeze bit at the bare parts of his body the cloak did not cover, his neck, face, and exposed hands.

Wishing he hadn't forgotten a torch, he wondered why he'd been summoned in the middle of the night.

Such an ungodly hour, he thought to himself as he walked past a bar where raucous noise spilled onto the street from the rowdy patrons. Careful to say in the shadows, Tobin moved across the street in case any of the people from the bar chose to exit while he was near. He didn’t need anyone questioning him in the dead of night. He just wanted to answer the summons and get back the warmth of his bed. Delays from curious people hindered that desire.

After passing the bar without drawing attention, he looked up and saw he was near the city wall. He sighed deeply. He'd not been to the city wall in over a year. The wall created a boundary for Tobin, who drew a strong sense of security while within the walls. After the life he’d lived, long ago, beyond the walls of Chejiro, Tobin hoped he'd never have to venture beyond the walls again. He felt his age. The cracking of his bones. The rheumatic joints. The constant aches and pains.

He lifted his eyes to the heavens and thanked god he still had a sound mind, excellent sight, and good hearing. There was a reason he was one of the most regarded priests of the invisible god. His sharp mind, quick wit, and careful observations made him highly regarded among the other priests and the many citizens who visited the Grand Temple.

Careful to keep from making too much noise as he approached a small door in the wall, he tapped on the wooden door and waited beside it with his back to the wall. While he waited, he scanned the street that ran along in front of him. Then he looked down the street that led away from the wall, back into the depths of the city, and to the temple where he wished he were still asleep. No one else stirred.

Stifling a yawn, he jumped in surprise when the door suddenly opened, a thin strip of light flooding the street. He leaned to the side and looked at the grizzly, but familiar, old face staring out at him.

"You summoned me?" Tobin asked, hoping his annoyance was not evident.

The man that opened the door, nodded and stepped aside to open the door wider. Tobin stepped into a small room and waited for the door to shut behind him. Once the door was secured, the man who opened it moved around Tobin.

The man seemed anxious. He rubbed his hands together and wiped them down the front of a greasy apron.

"Nort, why did you summon me?" Tobin asked, this time allowing his impatience to echo in his voice.

Nort looked up at Tobin with foggy eyes. "We had a man come in. The night's watch didn't know what to do with him. He's hurt."

Tobin frowned. "So you called me? You need a healer, you old fool."

Nort shook his head, his body shaking. "Yes. A healer." But then he stopped and waved a hand in the air. "No. No. Not a healer. You. The man needs you. A priest. Someone to take the devil out of him."

Tobin suddenly perked up.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

Nort kept waving his hands around, but he turned and led Tobin deeper into the interior of the great city wall, then to a short hall and a short flight of stairs that led down below the wall. There in a cold cell, on the even colder bricks barely covered with stale straw, a man lay convulsing and mumbling.

Standing over the man, two of the night watch simply stared at the man, careful not to get to close, but also making sure the man didn't get back to his feet.

Tobin glanced about the cell. He'd not been in the vast prison below the city walls in many years. The place was still just as dismal and hopeless as he remembered it. He pointed to a low bench that had been pushed up against one wall.

"Get this man to lie down on that bench," he directed the guards.

The guards started to fuss, but then seemed to realize who he was and moved to do as he asked.

After a few minutes, the strange man was on the bench. He'd not put up a fight. He simply allowed the guards to lift him by his ankles and wrists as they plopped him onto the rough wood.

Tobin moved closer to the man. Observing the stranger's attire, he realized the man was from the far north. He stared. Rumors abounded about the warriors of the far north. The Northmen were crude, brutal, godless. Some said they ate the babies of their enemies, though Tobin assumed that was just a tale to scare children at night. Leaning closer to the man, trying to better hear what the man was muttering, he saw a pendant hanging on a dirty golden chain around the man’s thick neck.

Tobin reached out and snagged the chain, holding the bulky pendant in the palm of his hand.

"The Father God," he said in wonder.

Then he stared at the man. He'd never heard of the clans of the north worshiping god. Not his god at any rate. Yet, this man wore the cross that depicted the sacrifice of the First Son of the Father God.

Tobin let the chain and pendant fall back onto the man's exposed chest. Still trying to understand what the man was saying, he only made out a few words: truth, Word of God.

Baffled, Tobin laid a hand on the man's head. The man's skin was hot to the touch. Leaning closer, he pried one of the man's eyes open and saw it wasn't reacting to the dim light in the cell.

"I need that torch," he said to Nort who hovered in the doorway, nearly hopping from one foot to the other. Nort turned and grabbed a torch.

As he handed it to Tobin, he asked, "You'll burn the demons out?"

Tobin looked at Nort.

"You old fool,” he said in frustration, “I was right. This man needs a healer. He's not full of demons."

Nort pointed at the man, “But he says strange things."

Tobin stood upright, holding the torch over the man's body, scanning it for obvious wounds. As he surveyed the man, he asked, "Oh? What sort of things?"

Nort rolled up and down on the balls of his feet, his anxiety so high, Tobin was certain the man had been smoking some of the field-weed so popular with the soldiers when they had time off.

"Nort?" he prompted.

"Oh. Yes. Strange things. I tell you. He... He said we worship false gods. False gods, he said. We were all going to burn in a lake of fire, and the god of gods was going to judge us for our false worship."

Tobin cast a doubtful eye on the muttering but otherwise non-lucid man.

"He said all that did he?"

Nort nodded. "Yes. He said the truth... Truth would set us free."

Tobin felt his face grow hot. He'd heard that phrase. Or read it. He could not recall, but hearing it again, in that dingy cell, he felt a strange pull at his heart, and a fierce denial in his mind. He shook his head.

"Well, whatever he said then, he's not now. He's burning with fever. Have these guards take him to the healers’ center. Tell them I sent him and tell them I will come to see how he is faring after the second bells."

He stood back and handed Nort the torch. While the guards decided who would carry the man over their shoulder all the way to the other side of the city, he motioned for Nort to follow him to the hall.

Once outside the cell, he frowned at Nort.

"Never summon me like that again, Nort."

The old man dropped his head, so his chin nearly touched his chest. "I'm sorry, Tobin, but I heard the things he was saying. It sounded so much like what Mother used to say when we were children. False teachings. Right?"

Tobin laid a hand on his older brother's shoulder, "Just ramblings from a sick man, my brother. Nothing else."

He sighed heavily and turned to go. A few steps away from Nort, he turned back to his brother, who was a shadow of the warrior he'd once been. His heart ached for his brother's mind to be healed. Nort stared back at him from his war-scarred face.

"Tobin?" he asked.

Tobin gave Nort a sad smile, "Come join me for dinner sometime. I'll make sure we save you a large helping of the custard pie you like so much."

Nort's face lit up like he was a little boy, and Tobin's heart ached even more.

Not able to conceal the emotions building in him, he turned away from his brother and let himself out into the night of the city.