She tried to tell herself it was all just a mockery because of the terrible way that she was being forcibly married to this brigand.
Yet she could not help hoping that God would protect her and that things would not be as bad as they seemed.
Then, as the Priest turned round to kneel at the altar, Juarez took her hand in his and, drawing her to her feet, he led her to the other side of the platform.
The Indian Priest was a tall man who had, Orina thought, an arresting if rugged face.
He began to speak in a quiet deep voice.
As he did so, Juarez translated in little more than a whisper what he was saying.
“Barefoot on the living earth with faces to the living sun, a man and a woman in the presence of the Morning Star meet to be perfect in one another.”
Because the words were so beauti
