Blind Impulse (17 page)

“
As well you should,” Vaux said.

“
But, we must remember,” Peter said.  “The church has given you six months to prove yourself.  Kirkoswald may still fall to Juliana.”

“
True,” Garin replied, trying to maintain a casual air.  “But I am confident this b
id can succeed.  I am doing many things now people once thought impossible.”

“
Such as?”

“
Ride a horse, and tilt a quintain for example.  I even help train the men and I still work quite a bit with a sword on the list fields.”

He heard Alyna choke softly. 
“Now you have really shocked them.”

Garin took a drink of his wine, noting weariness clouded his thinking.  It had to be past midnight and he had not slept at all.  A throbbing ache grew in his temples.  “Well, gentlemen, perhaps we should continue this di
scussion tomorrow.  I imagine you are all exhausted from your delayed journey and it is growing quite late.”

“
Aye,” Baron Naworth said.  “I look forward to seeing you tilt that quintain tomorrow, Swein.”

Garin stood.  “I will have the servants show you to
your rooms.  Good night, gentlemen.” He left the library and turned for the stairs.  “Good glory,” he muttered, rubbing his aching temple.

“
Are you all right?” Alyna asked.

“
Aye.  Naworth always gives me a headache.  Unfortunately, since my illness, my hea
daches are worse.”

“
I will fix your tea.”

They entered their room and Alyna started the water to boil over the hearth.  Garin untied his belt and tugged off his tunic wearing only his braccas and boots.  He sat in a chair at the table and rubbed his head a
gain.

“
Why don’t you lie down?”  Alyna asked coming up behind him.  Her hands kneaded his sore shoulder muscles.

Garin groaned softly.  “I’m not moving as long as you keep doing that.”

She chuckled and continued.  If Garin had been a cat he would have purr
ed.

“
Alyna, about tonight....”

“
I am sorry if I embarrassed you, Garin.”

“
I see now, you have spent too much time in the company of fighting men,” he
muttered.

“
Being raised by my father, I did not have much of a choice.  He believed I should not be so eas
ily offended.  He always said men will be men especially when in their cups.  I only said what I did because I wanted Naworth to know I would not be bullied.”

Garin chuckled.  “I think he got the message.”

“
I’m sorry if I offended you.”

“
Nay,” he said pull
ing her hand to his lips.  “I just wish I could have seen their expressions.”

Alyna giggled.  “You’d thought I had slapped them.  Only Vaux seemed unruffled.”

“
Aye, Vaux had been a friend of my father’s.  I am still not sure of his role in all of this or w
hy he has allied himself with Naworth.”  He hesitated a long moment.  “Alyna, how is it you can match Naworth in a randy conversation but you cannot do it with me?”

She sucked in her breath and recoiled from him.  Inwardly, Garin cursed his foolishness.  B
ut before he finished one of his finer epithets, Alyna sank into the chair next to him.

“
Because, Garin,” she whispered.  “Your opinion of me is what matters most.  I could honestly care less of what Naworth thinks.”

His jaw went slack.  “My opinion?  How
could my opinion--”

“
Bloody hell!” she screeched, exploding from her chair so violently he heard it tumble backward.  “Why do you find it so difficult to believe?  You would rather tumble with a whore than take your own wife to bed.  How do you think that
makes me feel?  And if I speak honestly, then I am nothing more than a wench who either wants your barony or a strumpet!”

Garin recoiled, drawing himself from the chair. 
Now I can hear her father’s temper in every word,
he thought and couldn’t help but sm
ile.

“
Do not laugh at me!” she raged then suddenly began to cry.

“
Nay,
wildefyr,
” he whispered and stepped forward.  He found her arm and drew her into his embrace.  For an instant she stiffened, but then abruptly relaxed and sobbed against his chest. 

“
I
have been a fool,” Garin whispered into her hair, his lips brushing her temple.  “But I doubt mightily.  I doubt myself and I doubt those around me.  I am sorry to hurt you, Alyna, but I have no faith now.”

She lifted her head.  “Those were not the words
of the knight who wrote to me.”

He sighed bitterly.  “I am not that knight who wrote to you.”

She hauled herself back, her fists slamming into his shoulders.  “Yes, you are!  Why can’t you understand?  That same knight is right here.”  Her finger jabbed hi
s chest, just over his heart.  “But you refuse to allow him freedom, you keep him locked away and held for ransom.  And by the saints, I do not know if I can pay your price.”

He pushed away, bowing his head.  “If the price is too high--”

“
Damn you, Swein,”
she screeched.

Garin spun on his heel just as she collided with him, her fists pounding his chest.  Glory, she truly was her father’s daughter.

“
Yo
u are too absorbed in your self-pity
.  I’ll not abide it another moment.”

Garin quickly pinned her arms. 

“
Garin,” she sobbed.  “When will you understand that I cared for the heart of the man I came
to know in his letters?  A man I could not see.  It did not matter to me if the man who wrote was blind or deaf, rich or poor, maimed or whole. I can barely remember our betrothal and had no idea of the appearance of the man who courted me with his words.
  When I grew to know you I was as blind of you then as you are of me now.”

Garin felt as if she had trampled him under the hooves of a war horse.  How could this be?  How could she care for him without laying eyes upon him?

Suddenly, a memory of the Holy
Land intruded.  The noise of battle raged around him but he had been wounded, and was too spent to stir from his tent.  Their lines had
broken
and the infidel pummeled the camp.  His wounds burned and for a brief moment, he did not care if he lived or died.
... 

…
.Garin heard the agonizing screams of his comrades as they died in their recovery beds.  He did not know if he would breathe another instant.

He should have grabbed his sword, but instead reached for a small piece of parchment.  He carefully opened
it, as if handling a most precious prize.

My dearest Garin,

A small sprig of dried lavender dropped from the note onto his chest.  He picked it up, inhaled deeply, but kept reading.

I pray this letter finds you well.

His lips tugged upward, Alyna always
began her letters thusly.

I find joy receiving a note from you, no matter how hastily written.  I pray for you daily, that the saints may guide your hand and keep you safe.  You asked to hear more of my life, although the reason for your request is beyond
me, I will gladly honor it.  A month ago, my father took the prize in the baronial list, but I’m sure you expected no less.  I pray you do not think me bragging but during that list the ladies also viewed weaving.  I was most fortunate to win their favor
as well.

My father also has three new foals in the barn.  Strong war horses, he promises them to be.  I hear tale in the market of Eden as a whole, the barony prospers under your father’s wisdom, and we had a goodly harvest last year.

Yet no matter our ben
efit here, I remain concerned for you.  I fear a day may come when I receive notice that you have died in battle, or I hear nothing at all.  The latter terrifies me the most, although the former is not without
is
share of dread.  My heart is with you alway
s, keep well, and I pray you return soon.

Your betrothed,

Alyna....

…
.It wasn’t until the sound of his words faded in his own ears did Garin realize he had spoken aloud.  “I can cite every one of your letters from memory,” he said, turning away and hoping
she did not see his embarrassment.  “Because of that last paragraph...that day, I picked up my sword and fought my way out of the mayhem.  I couldn’t bear the thought of you receiving the announcement you so dreaded.  I joined with Simon, we rallied the me
n and retook the camp.”

Alyna remained still and silent.  But Garin fancied he heard her tears dripping
down her cheeks.  The water started to boil and Alyna moved, preparing his tea.  She sniffled several times.  Garin wouldn’t blame her if she dropped so
me hemlock in his tea along with the other herbs.

“
Here,” she said and wrapped his hand around the steaming cup.  She moved away and Garin returned to his chair, wanting to do or say something.

“
How long do you think Naworth and Vaux will stay?”  She asked
as she shed her clothes.

Garin rubbed his eyes, surprised at the sudden change in conversation.  He remembered his promise.  Garin’s hands clenched with the desire to touch her.  But he had the distinct impression he had ruined any chance of that happenin
g tonight. He took a gulp of tea.  He hated the stuff, it tasted awful and made him terribly groggy.

“
I have no idea,” he said, finally answering Alyna’s question.  “They will either stay long enough to cause trouble or find an excuse to have me sent to a
church.”

“
We can’t just toss them out on the stoop.”  She sat down at the small dressing table and Garin heard the soft clink of coronet as she placed it on the table.

“
I wish we could but we will just have to keep an eye on them.  Once I have a good reaso
n then I can throw them out.”

She poured water into a basin and washed her face then started brushing her hair.  Garin finished his tea.  The crisp sound of the brush and the soft crackle of the fire soothed his tattered nerves.  Garin closed his eyes.  He
should really go to bed.

****

Juliana paced restlessly in her room.  Plotting against her brother did not sit well with her no matter how Peter rationalized it.  But at least all she had to do was provide the contacts and information, Peter would do the
rest.  She had no stomach for intrigue.

She sighed bitterly and closed her eyes, the memory of one evening still vibrantly clear - the eve her father tore her heart to shreds....

...Ten year old Juliana stood in her father’s solar, cowering in terror as
he raged at her.  Never had she seen such a display from him.

“
Tell me, Juliana,” he roared.  “Why can you not be like the other girls who learn spinning and weaving under your mother’s watchful eye?  Why must you age me with these foolish stunts?  Do you
wish to send me to an early grave?”

“
Nay--”

“
Be silent!  You not only endangered your life but the lives of your brother and Simon.  How would you have felt if that boar killed Simon?”

Nausea clawed at her belly.

Her father paced the room, his hand tearing
through his graying blond hair. 

“
Father, I--”

“
I said be silent!  How I wish you were not my daughter so I would not be afflicted with such worries over you.”

Tears exploded, flooding down her cheeks.  She never heard what else he had to say.  Juliana r
an to the door and flung it open, fleeing the keep and her father’s hatred....

...Juliana wiped away the tears gathering on her lashes.  For the next few days she
wandered through Kirkoswald, saying naught to anyone, unable to fill the numb void within he
r.  Her father didn’t want her, no one wanted her, and her idiocy could have been Simon’s death.

A sennight later, Baron Naworth and his son stopped at Kirkoswald to visit with her father.  She really did not care for either of them because she knew how he
r father felt about Naworth.

But Peter had proven a surprise.  He had been a handsome youth and Juliana was stunned when he sought her out.

“
Juliana, I had heard tale of your beauty but you surpass all that I had imagined.”

She had only stared at him, her
jaw slack.  “And I thought the only tales you would have heard were those of how Simon had to risk life and limb for me.”