Blind Impulse (12 page)

Eleanor had made certain their breakfast was prepared appropriately - no mixing of strange foods.  Alyna asked Simon to stand at the door, certain they would need his service shortly
.  The servants carried everything upstairs.  She opened the door to find Garin shoving his strewn clothes into a large pile in the corner. 

“
Our meal, my lord,” Alyna announced.

“
Excellent.”  Surprisingly, he pulled her chair out for her.

“
Thank you.”  S
he sat and Garin took his seat next to her.

She watched the servant discretely, pretending to be absorbed in conversation with Garin.  It was the same servant who had infuriated Garin yesterday at breakfast.  She specifically requested he bring the food to
them, assuring the young man she would be present so Garin would not throw any tables at him.

Alyna could not believe the servant’s temerity as he began his jokes again.  She put her hand on Garin’s arm, stopping the conversation.

“
You...what is your name
?”

The servant looked at her startled.  “James.”

“
James, your service to the baron is pitiful.  You wish to play your little pranks on a blind man but you forget his station.”

“
Lady, what do you mean?” James asked, his face paling.

Garin stiffened next to
her.

“
You scatter everything, leaving nothing within easy reach, and you fill the baron’s cup too full.  If he picked it up, it would spill all over the place.  If the baron had his sight, you would not dare try this.”

James took a horrified step back as G
arin slowly rose, towering over him.  Alyna reached up and gently took Garin’s hand.  “’Tis not worth your effort, Baron,” she whispered.  “Sir Renwick, attend!”

Simon opened the door.  “Baroness?”

She smiled.  Normally she never would have requested such
formality with someone as dear to Garin as Simon but the servant needed a lesson that would be learned by all.

“
Sir Renwick, this young man forgets who he attends.  My husband and I find his presence insulting.  He shall be confined for three days, with on
ly bread and water.  After that his station shall be attending the chamber pots of your men.”

“
As you wish, your excellency.”  Simon bowed and strode across the room.  He grabbed the servant by the scruff of the neck.  “Off with you, boy.”

“
Lady, please. 
Forgive me.  I meant no harm.”

Simon cuffed him.  “Be grateful the baroness did not order a thrashing.  Curb your tongue or I will take it upon my own station to add to her discipline.”  He hauled the young man out the door. 

Slowly, Garin returned to his
chair.  “Well played, my wife.”  He grinned at her.

Alyna expelled her breath.  “It occurred to me that the servants do not realize you are truly baron here.”

Garin nodded.  “If things had turned out normally...they would be right.  But they did not expec
t a young lady would fight for what was right.”  His hand tightened on hers.

Alyna blinked at the unexpected compliment.  But she quickly gathered her composure and moved to fix the plates.  “In order to stop any more pranks from the servants, I will alway
s set your place after they put the food down.  I will tell you the contents.”  She paused and dumped the excess wine from his cup.  “One thing you must remember, when a servant pours your cup, hold it in your hand and put your finger in it like so.”  She
paused and demonstrated.  “This way you will feel when it is full.”

“
So that is why I always spilled it?”

“
Aye, anyone would with it that full, Garin.”  She arranged his plates and guided his hand to each.  “Soon, you will memorize this layout - I will onl
y have to tell you what is in them.”

Garin nodded.  Alyna wondered if she truly saw amazement on his face or if she imagined it.  “And when we share--” Abruptly, he bit off his words.

Alyna knew what he had wanted to ask and she also knew exactly why he st
opped.  She couldn’t control her fingers as they curled around his hand.  “I will gladly share a trencher with you, my lord.”

Garin blinked, staring into nothingness.

“
Is it not appropriate for a servant to fill it and the lord allow his lady first morsel?
”

“
Aye,” he said softly.

“
Then, I am certain in due time, we will learn how to work together.”

He grimaced, agony flashing across his features. 

Alyna feared another headache plaguing him.  “Does this not please you, my lord?”

Garin drew in a deep breath.
  “It pleases me greatly but I wish you would not have to suffer it.”

“
I do not--”

He abruptly waved her off.  “Allow me to attend this lesson in table etiquette before we trot out another.”

Alyna swallowed hard and turned her attention to her meal.

They
finished breakfast and tackled the pile of clothes.  Alyna put each one into his hands, describing it in detail.  The article then went into a specific place.  She resolved Juliana’s nonsense would be turned for good.  By the time they finished, Garin knew
exactly where everything was and could tell, just by touch, if the item was his blue tunic with fancy embroidery, or his plain brown one with no decoration.

“
So what shall we work on now?”  Garin asked.

“
I was hoping to reintroduce you to the great hall.”

Garin blanched.  She watched in shock as the blood drained from his face.  “One of these days I will break my neck on those infernal stairs.”

“
Nay, Garin,” she said softly, her voice soothing.  “You have walked the stairs before.  They are actually the ea
siest for you to master.  They do not move.”

Garin’s jaw clenched but he said nothing.  Alyna wondered if she handed him too much at once.  He was quick, easily memorizing what she taught him.  Yet he needed more confidence.  She glanced around the room.

“
I have an idea,” she said.  “We shall work more in here first.”

****

Garin swallowed hard, summoned his courage, and stood.  “What do you have in mind?”

Alyna gripped his hand and tugged him forward.  He smiled as her fingers closed confidently around hi
s, warm and soft.  He fought the urge to press them to his lips.  Impulsively, he reached out with his free hand, and touched her hair, disappointed to find it braided.

“
What are you doing?” she asked, startled.

“
I...I was hoping your hair was not braided.
”

“
Garin, pay attention to what I’m saying, not my hair.”

He frowned, her voice sounded strange, suddenly distant although he still held her hand.  He realized she had turned her head away.  An unconscious mannerism to hide her embarrassment even though he
could not see it.  His frown melted into a grin.  He imagined her cheeks were flaming red.

“
Stop smirking at me.”

Garin couldn’t help it, he chuckled.

“
Do you want me to teach you or not?”

She was mad now.  He touched her face and sure enough her chin jut
ted outward at him.  Her mouth tightened in anger.  He knew her steel gray eyes shot daggers at him, sparking brilliantly.  Good Lord, how he wished he could see it.

“
Ah, my little
wildefyr
returns.”

“
Garin, please,” she said, jerking her hand from his, he
r voice thick.

He abruptly remembered when he had hurt her feelings before.  “Alyna, my words are not meant to injure.”

“
Please,” she whispered, close to tears.  “Do not call me that.”

“
Call you what...
wildefyr
?”

“
Aye
! 
If I am so crass
and repulsive why do you tolerate me around you?”

His jaw went slack.  He reached out, found her arm, then gripped her shoulders, wishing he could look into her eyes.  “Alyna, dear God, it never meant that to me.”

“
It...it didn’t?” she asked as if she coul
d not believe him.

“
Nay, my sweet.”  He took a deep breath and pulled her closer so her body pressed intimately against his.  “Who would have stood so boldly before a priest, fighting a battle she could not win, and then actually win it?  Who would have ev
en dreamed there was hope for a blind man to be baron?  Who would marry that man even though all he could do was throw temper tantrums like a child?  Only my beautiful
wildefyr
who had
the courage to stand for what she believes in and who shares her knowle
dge and strength with me.  I need you in my life, Alyna, I need my
wildefyr
.”

Her arms wrapped tightly around him.  He held her for a long moment then slowly lowered his head and nuzzled her ear.  She stiffened and pushed away and somehow Garin knew she wa
s wiping away tears.

“
I’m sorry, Garin, I shouldn’t have overreacted like that.”

“’
Tis all right, Alyna,” he said but
emptiness
swept through him as she moved back.  “Please do not be offended if I call you
wildefyr
.  It has become a name which is very dear t
o me.”

“My father thought it might have a different meaning for you than it did for me.”

“
And he was right.”

“
Well, where were we?”

“
You were about to show me something new.”

Alyna guided him to the center of the room.  “I’
ve noticed
sometimes you drag your feet.  It’s only natural but you need to learn how to walk with confidence.”

He snorted softly.  “And confidently break my neck.”

“
Nay, Garin,” she replied and he heard the smile in her voice.  “
Picking up your feet will lower the risk of you stumbling.”

He heard her move away.  “Now, walk toward me, count your steps.”

Garin did as she asked trying to keep his stride normal but he had the terrible feeling he would walk off a cliff at any moment. 
Alyna’s hands gripped his arms and he stopped.

“
Very good.  How many paces?”

“
Five.”

“
Now, turn around and walk five paces back.”

He did as she asked confused at the reason for this strange game.

She sighed softly.  “You are still hesitating.  The only tim
e you do not is when you are angry at someone.”

He chuckled.  “Perhaps we should bring in some servants.”

Alyna laughed.  He turned to face her and cocked his head slightly.  She moved to the left, he heard the rustle of her skirts and the tread of her sli
ppers on the rugs.  Her step hesitated then continued.

“
Wait, Alyna,” he said frowning.  “What did you just do?”

“
What do you mean?”

“
Your step paused for an instant.  Why?”

There was a long moment of silence.  “I wasn’t paying attention and almost ran int
o the table.”  Another long pause.  “You heard me?” 

“
Aye.  Your step changed.”  Because of the sound, he knew approximately where the table stood.  He took three steps forward and stopped.  He reached out with his hand and touched a chair.

“
Very good,” A
lyna said.  “Listening to someone move about a room can help you get your bearings but you will drive yourself mad if you try it with more than two people.”

“
Not if I focus solely on you.”

“
True but it will still be difficult.  We need a better way.  Now,
try walking across the room again.”

Garin sighed but did as she asked, knowing it was going to be a very long day.

Chapter Seven

Garin tried to force down his panic as Alyna gently led him down the stairs.  Each step thr
eatened to send him tumbling.  He clung to the banister and Alyna’s arm.  He had no idea how much his vision affected his balance.  But Alyna’s hands gripped his arm firmly.  Abruptly he noticed that she tugged slightly in the direction his foot was suppos
ed to go.  If she pulled backward he was going to overshoot the step, if she tugged forward he was going to catch his heel.  Gentle motions also signaled left and right to keep him in a straight line.  Still, he breathed a sigh of relief when his foot hit
solid ground.

“
Now,” Alyna said.  “A quarter turn to the tables.  Count your steps while I guide you.” 

Garin counted seven steps when Alyna stopped.  He reached out and felt the edge of a table.  “I know this is the high table because it is raised on the
dais.”

“
Very good,” Alyna said.

Garin heard the swish of skirts but it was not Alyna who moved.  He stiffened and turned his head.  Alyna should know not to bring him into a room with others in it.  He caught a scent of lotus, his mother’s favorite perfum
e.

“
Hello, mother.”

“
Garin?” his mother asked, shocked.

He heard the rustle of chainmail and the tread of a heavy boot.  “Simon.”

“
Hello, Garin,” Simon said in surprise.

He felt Alyna’s fingers tighten on his arm and sensed she was fair beaming with pride.

Another hard soled boot resounded with the creak of armor.  But there was more time between each stride.  Only one man walked like that.  “Hello, Geoff.”

“
Good morrow, Swein,” Geoff said unruffled.  He turned and took the stairs two at a time.

Alyna giggl
ed.  “He’s used to it with Roger.”

“
How...?” his mother’s voice faded in confusion.

Garin grinned at her.  “How did I know it was you?”

“
Aye.”

“
I heard the rustle of your skirts and smelled your perfume.  With Geoff I recognized his long stride.  As for Si
mon, I heard the armor and his boots.  Aside from Geoff, who else would be with you wearing chainmail?”

“
Certainly not I,”
Lyssa
said as she swooped into the room.  Her step was heavier than his mother’s and faster.  She scurried like a plump little mouse.
  Garin turned away
to hide his grin.

“
What’s so funny?”  Alyna whispered in his ear.

He should have known he could not keep his amusement from her.  “I’ll tell you later,” he whispered back.

“
This is a wonderful surprise,” his mother said.

“
This is Garin’
s home,” Alyna said softly.  “There is no reason why he cannot move freely about.  Roger knows every step of Salkeld Hall and the servants are not allowed to move anything without telling him.”

“
Do you think we can trust them to do that here?” Garin asked.

She chuckled.  “After Simon makes an example of the servant from breakfast, I’m sure we won’t have a problem.”

Simon laughed.  “Trust me, my baron and baroness, I have made a fine example indeed.”

Garin scowled.  “Yet it is not well to have Simon exercisi
ng discipline for a blind man.”

“
Think about it, Garin.  If your father needed someone disciplined who did it fall to?”

“
My father, as constable, before he passed away,” Simon replied.

“
It’s all the same protocol to a baron.  We have done nothing different
than your own father would.”

Garin smiled, his arm tightening around hers.  “Very true.”

“
Now,” Alyna said, placing his hand on the table.  “How many steps was it from the stairs to here?”

He thought for a moment, distracted by the others.  “Seven,” he sa
id finally.

“
All right.  Remember, everyone’s pace changes slightly but the table will always be the same general count.  Once you solidify your memory, it will become automatic.”  She guided him to the back of the dais, before the large hearth.  Garin tou
ched the huge tapestries on the walls, remembering each of them in vivid detail.  All were heraldic devices of the
Sweins
who had gone before, five generations back.  Beside each one was the heraldic tapestry of the man’s wife.  He stopped at his father’s.

“
What is it, Garin?”

His fingers caressed the fine work.  “This is my father’s tapestry.”  He drew a deep breath.  “It is tradition when the son succeeds the barony, his wife makes the tapestries.  In six months, I wonder if you will be able to begin maki
ng ours.”

Alyna hesitated a long moment, her fingers tightening on his.  “I shall start it tomorrow, Garin.  I am very good at weaving and your tapestry will hang beside your father’s before the six months are out.”

His jaw went slack in surprise.  “But wh
y go to all that work if it might be wasted?”

“
Nothing will be wasted, Garin.  You will see.”

Stunned, Garin allowed her to lead him away.

The tables in the great hall formed an open-ended rectangle.  Alyna guided him around, refreshing his memory to a sig
ht that he had seen so often he grew to ignore it.  Now, it felt as if this familiar hall was as foreign to him as the Holy Land.

“
Good morning, Roger,” Alyna said, startling Garin.  “How goes your breakfast?”

“
Just fine,” Roger replied.  “Good morrow, Gar
in.”

Garin felt Alyna guide his hand into Roger’s.  “My apologies, I did not realize you were here.”

Roger chuckled.  “Like you, I have learned to keep silent so I can better hear the goings on around me.”

“
Hello, cousin,” little Emily said.

Garin smiled.
“Well met, cousin.”

“
How go the lessons?” Roger asked.

“
Daunting, but Alyna is an excellent teacher.”

“
That she is,” he said and Garin heard the smile in his voice.  “As a little girl, she was the one who first introduced me to her
games
that eventually h
elped me see with my other senses.”

Garin chuckled.  “Aye, she has already shown me her game of tag.”

“
Alyna, have you worked with the stones yet?”

“
Not yet, uncle.”

“
I would advise you do it quickly.  Garin being a knight is not accustomed to using his se
nse of touch as greatly as I was.  It is difficult to feel things if your hand is covered in mail.”

“
This sounds intriguing.”

“
Alyna, is it all right if we try it now?”

“
Of course, uncle.”

“
Sit with me, Garin,” Roger said.  “Emily, please go to my room and
fetch the black velvet bags.”

“
Yes, Papa,” the little girl said and scampered off.

Garin sat beside Roger and heard him moving his plates away.  Alyna sat on Garin’s other side.

“
When I was first recovering, little Alyna was the only one who could stay wi
th me for any length of time.  I had a terrible habit of raging at everyone.  But Alyna accepted my blindness with the innocence of a child and I discovered I could not find it in my heart to be as harsh with her.”

Garin smiled and squeezed Alyna’s hand. 
“I know what you mean.”

Roger chuckled.  “She began bringing me things to hold and had me guess what they were.  At first they were simple things, her favorite toy, or some bauble, but then the games became more challenging.  One time she brought me someth
ing that felt very familiar but I couldn’t identify it.  That about drove me to distraction.  When I struggled, she gave me hints, but I still couldn’t guess what it was.”

Emily ran back to the table.  “Here, Papa.” 

“
Thank you.”  He paused. 

Garin felt
a velvet bag pushed into his hand.  He moved his fingers to the drawstring tie and found a complicated knot.  “What is this?”

Roger deftly untied the knot.  “I use the knots to identify the exact contents of each since the bags are too similar to tell apar
t.”  He placed something round, smooth, and hard into Garin’s palm.

Garin scowled, his fingers exploring the strange object.  It was about the diameter of a coin, roughly flat on one side, but raised on the other.  It was slick, as if highly polished with
simple planes and a smaller flat top.  The edges of the planes joined with straight lines, perfect in their angles.  Garin’s brows flew up his forehead.  “A gemstone?”

“
Excellent,” Roger said, happily.  “You are better at this game than I was.”

Garin’s fin
gers studied it a bit more.  “It is large, it must be worth quite a bit.”

“
Aye,” Roger replied.  “In this bag are the rubies I use for my work.  Imagine my shock when I discovered little Alyna had not only been in my workshop but had brought me some of the
most expensive items to
play
with.”

Garin laughed.

“
Uncle Roger,” Alyna scolded.

“
Unfortunately,” Garin said, “while I can recognize a gemstone, I do not know if it is a ruby or a sapphire.  How do you know the color?”

“
That is where I needed Alyna or Cec
ily to be my eyes.”  He paused for a long moment.  “This is something you must accept Garin.”

Garin’s stomach twisted painfully.  Begging for help, needing someone else to do what he had once done since birth and every day of his life, never questioning it
.

I will know only darkness for the rest of my days.

“
Garin,” Roger said softly.  “As hard as it is, learn this well.  You have lost a valuable sense, your vision.  You can learn to adapt and trust your other senses but some things will remain beyond your
grasp.  There is no shame in asking for another person to relate what they see.  There is no humiliation in admitting one single fact...you are blind.”

A deep rage rose within Garin.  His body trembled, he suddenly wanted to lunge to his feet and storm fro
m the room.

“
Aye, galls you like a hot iron, I know.  But does your rage and pain change the facts?”

Garin kept his jaw clamped shut.

“
Answer me, does it change the facts?”

“
Nay,” he snapped, struggling to control his fury before he ripped Roger limb from
limb.

“
Then adapt and learn.  Trust those you love for they will love you no less.”

He sighed and rubbed his temple, his anger fading and a headache threatening to replace it.

Roger remained silent then abruptly thrust something else into his hand.  “You w
ill find, Garin, that this exercise is very good for heightening your sense of touch.  For example....”

Garin scowled, this object was round, also smooth, but uneven with no flat surfaces.  “I have no idea.”

“
This is a pearl.”

“
Ah, now I understand.”

Roger
continued handing him various stones and Garin was amazed in the subtle differences his touch revealed, especially regarding the type of cut, and the quality of workmanship.  He forgot his anger became entranced with the game.  Emily and Alyna also joined
in when Roger ran out of stones.

Emily, with her youthful enthusiasm, rushed up to him.  “Garin,” she cried, dropping all pretense of formality.  “Guess what this is.”

Garin grinned, the girl was fair bounding with exuberance.  “Aye, lass?”

“
Here!”  She t
hrust something into his hands.

Garin winced as a sharp thorn gouged his finger.  It took him only an instant to feel the stem and flower.  “’Tis a rose.”

Emily clapped her hands and giggled.

Garin’s smile faded as he remembered Roger’s admonition.  His fi
ngers felt the silky petals.  “But what color is it, Emily?”

“’
Tis red, Garin, the deepest red ever created.”

His smile returned, now he understood why Roger could never truly be angry with Alyna when she was a child.  His fingers continued to explore the
rose.  “’Tis a fine bloom,” he said.  “As soft as Alyna’s fair skin.”