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The man who had refused them entrance was on his feet and spoke up. “Lord Varrick demands shelter for his warriors and the witch who harmed one of ours.”

“Do you think a witch has more power than the good Lord, Brother Luke?” the man chastised.

“Nay, Abbott John, never would I think that,” the monk said, his head bent apologetically.

“The Lord sends us those in need and perhaps he sends the witch to us to help her see the evil of her ways,” Abbott John said. “We will grant lodgings to the witch and these good men, and we will pray for them all.”

“Aye, Abbott John, I will see the refectory made ready,” Brother Luke said, though did not hide his disdain with the abbott’s decision, his face pinched tight as he went to walk away.

“You will see that these good people get food and drink first, then you will ready it for Lord Varrick’s men to sleep. And you will also see a private room made ready for Lord Varrick and his wife,” Abbott John ordered.

Brother Luke stared at him a moment, then bobbed his headed and hurried away.

“You and yours are welcome here, Lord Varrick,” Abbott John said as he approached Varrick slowly, his hands tucked into the large sleeves of his robe, leaving his crossed arms to rest against his chest.

“A wise decision, Abbott John,” Varrick said.

“We are here to serve, my son, though I do ask you to grant me a favor.”

“It depends on the favor?”

“I would appreciate a chance to speak with your wife, with you present of course,” Abbott John said. “Perhaps I can make her see the evil of her ways and help her to make you a good wife.”

“I wed her because of her evil ways, Abbott John,” Varrick said.

The Abbott, startled by his response, said, “Then perhaps it is you I should speak to.”

“A waste of time, Abbott, I lost my soul many years ago.” Varrick turned away from the Abbott but heard him mumble a prayer as he walked away.

Varrick favored the sting of the cold that hit his face when he stepped outside. He was a man of no faith and little trust, so Abbott or not, he would keep a keen eye on the man.

He went to his wife, reached up, his hands going to her waist that had an inviting curve to it and the unexpected thought disturbed him. He was not interested in coupling with her, so why the thought? He chased the unwanted thought away annoyed for having had it.

He lifted her off the horse, his hands leaving her as soon as her feet touched the ground. “You will not leave my side the whole time we are here. Do you understand?”

“Aye, my lord,” she said, fearful that she understood him all too well, though wondered why his hands had lingered at her waist. Had something troubled him and caught him in thought?

Varrick placed his hand on her back and guided her to the door and inside.

Fia’s steps halted upon seeing the snarling faces of the few monks gathered there. They appeared more like demons than holy men. She moved closer to her husband as a tall monk approached her, and she was relieved when Varrick slipped his arm around her.

“All are welcome in the Lord’s house, my child,” Abbott John said. “I look forward to talking with you. But first food and a hot brew to warm you.”

When Varrick’s arm slipped away from her waist, she hurried to reach for his hand and was pleased to realize he was already reaching for hers. His strong grip did not feel like a shackle, it felt more like a shield that he would let no one penetrate, and the sensation surprised her.

They were escorted to the refectory where the monks took their meals. It was a large room that had two long tables with benches running down the middle of it. Food and drink waited on both tables and her husband directed her to the table that sat closest to the hearth.

Varrick helped her off with her cloak before he helped her to sit. He remained at her side, though stood, watching all that went on around them. When several of his warriors entered the room, he moved to sit beside her.

He shed his cloak, tossing it on top of hers next to him on the bench and sat, planting himself firmly against Fia. His arm did not simply brush her arm. It was as if it was stuck to her, not a sliver of space separating them. The rest of his body followed suit, his hip and leg just as firmly planted against her.

The monks were not the only faces to show disapproval with him sitting as if attached to her, his warriors did as well.

Abbott John soon joined them, slipping onto the bench opposite them. “Eat, drink. You must be hungry.”

When the Abbott began to eat, only then did Fia reach out for a chunk of cheese and bread while her husband waited for no one, stabbing a piece of meat with his dagger.

“I am curious, my child, what led you down an evil path,” Abbott John asked.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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