*

Jirvel was not pleased. The priest was asking for a much higher tithe than usual and she was not about to pay it. He sat his horse in her small courtyard wearing a long brown robe made of soft wool with an attached floppy hood over his head and a cloth rope tied around his middle. "Father, was it not ye who said greed was one o' the seven deadly sins?" she asked.

"Precisely what are ye accusing me o', lass?"

"Not ye father, me."

He got down off his horse, clasped his hands together in a priestly way and rocked up on his tip-toes. "Are ye asking me to hear yer confession?"

"Perhaps, but moreover I am asking ye to help me understand. Is greed not one o' the seven deadly sins?"

"Aye."

"Then I confess I am guilty. Ye see, the good Lord sent us a laddie to help with the land and he needs to be fed. Yet ye are asking me to give over a larger amount o' our food for the tithe and …and my greed forbids it."

The priest studied her eyes for a moment and then gave Stefan a slow look up and down. "Tis a growing laddie at that."

"I dinna know a laddie could eat so much."

As was his habit, the priest started collecting tithes at the eastern edge of Macoran land and worked his way to the village. That meant he would see Ronan next. She handed a small basket of vegetables to him and smiled. "I have heard there are lads who want to marry me, but I think…"

"Ye are already married."

"And happily until recently. But I think the lads who say they prefer me truly want the land instead. 'Tis that not also greed, father?"

He tried to think what she was getting at and hesitated. "But yer married."

"True enough and I wish to stay married. I took a sacred vow and a good wife should wait for her husband no matter how long it takes. Perhaps he be only lost somewhere."

"'Tis possible, I suppose. A man would be daft not to come back to ye if he were able, Jirvel." He noticed her blush and took the small basket she offered. Then he emptied the contents into a much larger basket tied to the back of his saddle. "Feed that laddie well, Jirvel or ye will answer to me!" With that, he mounted and rode away.

Jirvel smiled. She trusted Macoran not to betroth her, but not letting Ronan talk the priest into setting aside her marriage would be an added measure of protection. For days, all three held their breath waiting for news of Jirvel's marriage circumstances, but nothing more was said and they were relieved.




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