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A short man, wearing the dark brown, hooded robe of the monastery clerics, turned from where he stood, holding his hands out to the fire. His plain features were marked with heavy lines from what appeared to be a perpetual scowl.
“I am Cleric Norman and I have a dire message from Abbot Bennett that you must adhere to immediately,” the cleric ordered with an air of superiority. “And she,” —he pointed to Snow—“must leave. This is a discussion for men alone.”
Tarass didn’t respond. He walked his wife to a chair near the hearth and after he helped her sit, he turned to the cleric. “You do not enter my home and make demands of me.” He approached the cleric in strong strides. “And never, ever, think you can dictate to me when it comes to my wife. Now you will deliver your message and I will give you my response in the morning at which time you will take your leave from my home.”
Snow heard the well-deserved quiver in the cleric’s voice when next he spoke.
“I was given orders to remain here and see that Abbot Bennett’s message is adhered to until his arrival.”
“What makes you think that I would adhere to anything Abbot Bennett has to say when barbaric blood runs through me?” Tarass asked, turning a glare on the man that was meant to frighten. And it did.
Cleric Norman visibly began to tremble. “Think of Mistress Snow and what it would mean to her reputation if you refused to obey the Abbot.”
“Why don’t you tell us the message, Cleric Norman, then I can decide whether my reputation is threatened,” Snow said.
She didn’t see his eyes turn wide, but she certainly heard how her words affronted him.
“That is not for you to decide,” Cleric Norman chastised.
“No, it is me, her husband, to decide,” Tarass snapped sharply.
“You are not her husband, Lord Tarass,” Cleric Norman said, taking a step away from him. “Abbot Bennett’s message will explain it all and why it is necessary for you to immediately comply with his demand.”
“Tell us,” Snow said before her husband could explode with fury, since her own ire had mounted his had to be near to exploding.
“Aye, my wife is right, tell us,” Tarass ordered curtly.
“The cleric that wed you did not know that Lord Tarass is not a Christian, in which case it invalidates your marriage,” Cleric Norman said as if those few words were an explanation in itself. “Abbot Bennett had hoped that perhaps you hadn’t consummated the invalid vows, but if you have then he orders you to cease from committing any further sin. Lord Polwarth has graciously agreed to honor his commitment to Snow and wed her so that her reputation remains unsoiled. Abbot Bennett will arrive in a few days to escort Snow to Lord Polwarth’s home where they will wed and this unfortunate matter will be laid to rest.”
Snow stood so quickly that it startled the cleric.
“I will agree to no such nonsense. I am Lord Tarass’s wife, our vows properly exchanged and sealed many times over.”
Cleric Norman gasped.
“Not you, Cleric Norman, nor Abbot Bennett, or Lord Polwarth will take that from me,” Snow warned. “I remain Lord Tarass’s wife not only until the day I die, but beyond that.”
“I’ll reiterate what my wife said,” Tarass said, proud of the way his wife had spoken up and also made it clear she would remain his wife. “We are husband and wife and nothing will ever change that.”
“You would live in sin? Ruin this innocent woman?” Cleric Norman asked outraged.
“Abbot Bennett can validate the ceremony that was performed with the blessings of the church or if it’s another ceremony that would please you, I will join hands with my wife in the old ways of my mum’s people.”
Cleric Norman gasped loudly “You would partake in a pagan ceremony?”
“Let me make this simple for you, Cleric Norman,” Tarass said, going to his wife and locking fingers with hers to hold up their clenched hands for him to see clearly. “My wife and I are bound together forever and no man, no force, nothing will part us.” He lowered their hands to rest between them. “Tomorrow you will return to the monastery and deliver that message to Abbot Bennett.”
“You mean to openly defy Abbot Bennett’s orders?” Cleric Norman asked in disbelief.
“You said it yourself. I’m not Christian so I am not obligated to follow his orders,” Tarass said. “Now you will excuse us while we retire to our bedchamber. A servant will see you fed and a bed provided for you.”
“Mistress Snow, you are a Christian. You can’t mean to defy Abbot Bennett and go sin with this man,” Cleric Norman said affronted once more.
Snow couldn’t keep the smile from her face. “Loving my husband and making love with him is no sin, Cleric Norman, though enjoying it as much as I do might be.”
