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Authors: Kathryn Loch

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BOOK: Blind Impulse
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Dark eyes regarded Garin with happiness.  But Garin was surprised to note he now looked Geoff in th
e eye and was a bit broader of shoulder.  He gripped Geoff’s forearm warmly.  “Good to see you, sir.”


Well met, your excellency.”

Garin’s mother wrapped her arm around his.  “Come, I’m sure you long for a bath and change of clothes before this evening’s m
eal.”


Aye,” Garin said gratefully.  “’Tis been a difficult journey.” He escorted the two women into the keep, gazing up at the huge stone towers.  Despite grieving over the death of his father, joy filled Garin’s heart.

I am home!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

 

Alyna leaned against the wall, praying it would support her, as servants hustled Garin off to prepare for the evening meal.  She dimly remembered their betrothal years ago.  Garin had been a handsome, if gangly y
oung lad, but now...Sweet Mary...it
was as if a Viking god had ridden
into the bailey.

Garin stood taller than even her father, who towered over men.  His long blond hair fell past his shoulder blades.  Deep blue eyes rivaled the intensity of the summer sky
and his face appeared as if chiseled from brown stone.  The time under the sun in the Holy Land darkened Garin’s skin into a rich bronze but his high cheekbones and strong jaw line bespoke every aspect of his Nordic heritage.

Alyna glanced down at herself.
  She was a royal mess, not a lady betrothed to the next baron of East of Eden.  Why had Emily chosen today to play hide and seek and get stuck?  Alyna had been absolutely mortified when Garin called her
wildefyr
again.  She was determined to shed that per
ception of her but instead announced it to all.


Alyna?” h
er father asked softly.  “Are you all right?”


I am,” she replied and ducked her head.  She felt terrible about embarrassing him today.

Geoff’s fingers tugged her chin up and his lips lifted in a sm
ile.  “Sometimes things never go as planned.  But worry not, from the look on Garin’s face, I don’t think he was displeased with you.”


He called me
wildefyr
again, father.”

Geoff struggled to keep his expression neutral.  “Did he?  Well, Alyna, perhaps it
has a different meaning for him than it does for you.”

She arched an eyebrow and her father finally broke into his familiar grin.  “I don’t think his excellency was displeased with you today, but if you appear like this at his table then he will be.”


Aye
, father,” she said and hurried upstairs to change.  Alyna vowed she would not give Garin a reason to call her wildefyr again.

****

Garin paused at the top of the stairs, his hand clutching the banister, as a wave of dizziness clouded his vision complete
ly.  While it felt wonderful to have bathed and donned a fresh set of clothes, the actions caused the wound on his chest to bleed anew.  He had a grisly time getting it to stop and had been forced to put a heavier bandage on it than normal.  But at least t
he bandage was unnoticeable under his elaborate tunic. 

It bothered Garin that the wound refused to heal.  Normally, he recovered from such things quickly.  Of course, now he was home instead of suffering through the fiasco of a losing Holy War, and the w
ound should heal without a problem.

Garin knew he should rest but he was determined to at least attend the revel.  It seemed like years since he quit a meal with a full belly.  Tonight would be exactly what he needed.  Good food, his family and friends aro
und him, and the peace of mind only home could bring.  He straightened his shoulders and walked down the stairs.

Guests gathered in the great hall.  Minstrels played lively tunes and an atmosphere of celebration
settled over the castle.  T
omorrow Garin
would attend a memorial to his father.  A bitter pang swept through him.  Because Garin had been in the Holy Land when his father had died, he had missed the funeral. 
T
he memorial would allow Garin to say goodbye and also announce his right to inheri
t.  In a sennight would be Garin’s investiture as baron and his marriage to Alyna.

A surprising warmth coursed through Garin’s veins.  His gaze swept over the crowd but he did not see Alyna.  He smiled to himself.  What mischief had his
wildefyr
gotten her
self into now?


Garin,” his mother said as she approached.

He again took her hand in his.  “I must
apologize for my late arrival, M
other.  It took some time for the herald to reach me with your letter.  We returned with all haste but it took longer than ex
pected.”


That’s all right, Garin,” she said and sat with him on a small divan away from the tables. 

He studied her a moment, not liking the paleness of her features or the bleakness in her eyes.  Garin took a deep breath, remembering the love and respec
t his mother and father had shared for each other.  How terrible it must be for her to lose him.  Somehow, Garin found the courage to broach a painful subject.  “Your letter did not specifically say what happened.”

Tears filled her eyes and she quickly loo
ked away.  “It was a terrible fever, Garin.  We have no idea what caused it but it hit without warning.  Your father was not the only one to die from it.”

Garin’s mouth went dry.  “A plague of some sort?”  He shivered.  He had seen too much of that in the
Holy Land.

She lifted her hands helplessly.  “I do not know.  But all who caught the fever had the same symptoms.  The villagers were the hardest hit.  Unfortunately, it struck myself and three other people in the castle, including your father.  But we bel
ieve it has passed now.”

He shook his head sadly.  It was hard to imagine his father, a robust man who loved life and laughter, falling to an illness.


And Juliana?” h
e asked.

Eleanor’s mouth tightened.  “Your sister is still fostering with the
Naworths
a
nd was spared.” 

Garin scowled.  “Don’t tell me--”


Her attitude grows more surly each day.  I shall always regret allowing your father to send her to foster with them.”


She wa
s once a kind and loving girl, M
other.  Perhaps she will be as such again.”

Th
e cry of a herald announcing the arrival of more guests startled Garin.

His mother rolled her eyes.  “That would be them,” she said and stood.

Garin also rose.  As children, he and Juliana had been as close as brother and
sister could be but her fostering
with Naworth had changed her.  For a reason Garin could not fathom, Juliana fancied Naworth’s eldest son.  Unfortunately for her, Naworth did not approve of the union simply because Juliana’s dowry was not extensive enough.  East of Eden was a small barony
but with good lands.  Garin’s father had done his best, but in his own words,
needed to leave something for my son to inherit.
 

That was the crux of the matter.  Naworth wanted all of East of Eden, not a portion of it.  Juliana turned a blind eye to the
greed, deciding that Garin had been born first and male simply to ruin her happiness.  He sighed softly, wondering what had happened to the wonderful sister he had known as a child, one who always looked up to her older brother, and who tried valiantly to
match him at every game.

Juliana, her arm entwined with Peter Naworth’s, entered first.  Baron Naworth and his wife followed her.  Garin took a deep breath, suddenly feeling as if his homecoming had turned into a full blown coronation ceremony.

His sister
was beautiful as always.  Her ivory gown simple but regal with gold embroidery that accented her golden hair.  Her blue eyes were lighter than Garin’s but glinted with a hint of animosity.  He had the distinct impression Juliana wished fervently he had not
returned alive from the Holy War.

Garin took Juliana’s hand and pulled it to his lips.  “I have missed you,” he said honestly, longing for the sister he once knew.

For an instant, her steely gaze softened but her jaw tightened and the mask returned.  “How
went the war, B
rother?”


Beastly,” he replied and turned to Peter.  Garin inclined his head.  “Greetings, Peter.”


Well met, Swein,” Peter said stonily.  “Where is your betrothed?  I hear tale she is quite a feast for the eyes.”

Garin’s hackles bristled a
t Peter’s comment and the fact that his betrothed should be by his side greeting guests. 
But that is my wildefyr,
he thought dryly. 


I guess you did not see me, my lord,” a soft voice said next to him and Garin almost jumped sideways.


My lady,” he said
and grinned at Alyna.  “I pray forgive me.”  Garin made the introductions but it was by habit, his attention completely captivated by the beauty next to him. 

Alyna wore a dark blue velvet gown and mantle with elaborate silver embroidery.  The color made
her eyes glow like moonlight in the deep blue of the evening sky.  A gauzy white veil covered her unbound hair, accenting the blue-black sheen.  Garin longed to run his fingers through it.  He discovered his heart slamming against his ribs like a batterin
g ram as he gazed at her gentle features, matchless in their perfection.

His mother looked from him to Alyna and back again, a faint smile tugging at her lips.  “I must see if the servants have things in hand,” she said and hurried to the kitchens.

Simon s
tepped next to Garin and Juliana’s expression again changed as she awarded him with a bright smile.  “Simon,” she said, her voice soft.  She lowered her eyes and inclined her head.

He took her hand and bowed over it, his dark eyes regarding her intently. 
“My lady,” he said, “I vow you have grown even more lovely in the days I was gone.”

Her cheeks blossomed with a sweet blush.  “You are too kind, Simon.”

Peter scoffed.  “Aye, this constable would do well to remember his place, but war does that to a man an
d he forgets his station.”

Simon straightened, glaring at Peter, and Garin clenched his teeth with the insult to his best friend.  Peter’s rank was higher than Simon’s, but not so high he could insult the constable of Kirkoswald with nary a worry.  Garin h
oped Simon would put him in his place.   

Simon did not disappoint.  “And I realize you would understand of war, considering how many battles and lists you have joined.  Tell me, do you still avoid the tourney since I unhorsed you four consecutive times,
or has that changed?”

Garin slapped Simon’s shoulder, grinning broadly.  “Aye, my friend, perhaps I should declare a tourney to celebrate my marriage.  We can see if Peter’s skills have improved, although I doubt they could have grown any worse.”

Simon’s l
ips tugged upward.  “Perhaps, Garin.  If Lady Juliana bestows her favor upon me again.”

Juliana’s cheeks turned crimson and she smiled shyly at Simon.

Peter’s cold eyes sparked furiously.  “Come, Juliana,” he snapped.

She glanced at Simon over her shoulder
as Peter led her away.  Garin had a fleeting notion she wanted to remain.

Simon looked at him, shaking his head in disgust.  Garin managed to control his smile then quickly greeted Baron Naworth and his lady.  As soon as he was able, Garin excused himself
and his betrothed to circulate among the other guests.  Conversing with Naworth for any length of time only led to one discussion - Juliana’s dowry.  Simon also strode away, moving to the table where a servant poured him a cup of wine.


My apologies for b
eing late,” Alyna said.  “But I did not wish to appear like the unwashed urchin I was earlier.”

Garin chuckled softly.  “No apology necessary, Alyna, you are most exquisite this eve.”

Her cheeks colored with a soft blush and Garin was certain he would go m
ad on the spot.  The immediate future of his marriage looked better all the time.

The guests gathered around the table to be seated.  Garin saw a young man, with hair as black as a Alyna’s, move awkwardly to take his seat, assisted by the rotund woman Gari
n had spotted before and who appeared to be the man’s wife.  It took a moment for Garin to realize the young man was blind.

He watched them a moment, thinking the man looked somehow familiar.  He was tall but not as tall as Garin.  His eyes were dark brown
and his face refined.  He was built well but did not have the bulk of a warrior or knight.  Garin’s brow furrowed.  He could not remember knowing a blind nobleman yet he could not shake the feeling they had met before.

Alyna seemed to notice his gaze.  “M
y lord,” she said softly.  “Do you not remember my uncle, Roger Salkeld?”

Garin’s eyes widened in shock.  He did remember meeting Geoff’s younger brother at the betrothal.  Roger had not been blind then, in fact, he had been an aspiring artisan.  A goldsmi
th if he remembered correctly.


What happened?”  Garin asked.

Alyna’s jaw tightened and her beautiful eyes filled with sorrow.  “It was an
accident, my lord, only months after our betrothal.  Roger was struck down by a runaway wagon.  He almost died but wh
en he recovered he was blind.”

BOOK: Blind Impulse
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