Authors: Kathryn Loch
He had not realized he spoke aloud until Emily chortled. “Aye, Garin, and she’s as red as the rose now.”
Roger chuckled and Garin found himself doing the same.
Emily and Alyna continued
to return with something for Garin, and even Roger, to guess. Soon all four were laughing and having a wonderful time. While the game taught Garin some important talents, he also discovered something far more valuable. Roger, although the man could inf
uriate him, was a staunch ally.
****
Over the next few weeks, Alyna guided Garin, reintroducing him to the interior of the keep. Once he became familiar with an area, Alyna stood back and allowed him to explore on his own. But she always maintained a r
espectful distance in case the servants decided to play practical jokes on him again. Fortunately, the servants seemed to take the example of James seriously.
Garin’s constant nightmares disturbed her the most. They plagued him every night. He tossed an
d turned, muttering in his sleep. Sometimes he would awaken sharply, a cry strangling in his throat. Alyna always managed to calm him, yet she began to worry for his peace of mind.
Alyna also noticed if headaches troubled Garin, he became disoriented, ev
en if they worked in a familiar place like their room. The headaches caused him severe vertigo when he stood.
Garin did not usually allow the headaches to slow him down. He relearned the lay of the keep with a speed and accuracy that amazed her.
“
Unbeli
evable,” Alyna whispered as Garin negotiated the stairs in the north tower as easily as if he could see.
He jumped the last two stairs, landing in front of her, and grinning mischievously. “Ah, my talents surprise you now?”
“
Aye,” she said honestly. “Eve
n Roger did not memorize Salkeld Hall so quickly yet it is smaller than Kirkoswald.”
Garin thought for a long moment. “Perhaps it is due to our very different trades in life.”
“
How so?”
“
Roger does have advantages over me in certain things, especially if
it is a skill he used in his trade. Myself, as a knight, may have advantages over him. My balance, for one thing, fighting requires good balance or one usually dies. I also have a greater awareness of what is around me. That in itself saved my life oft
en in the Holy Land. I can’t tell you how many times I instinctively blocked an unseen sword launching from nowhere in the middle of a skirmish line. It was also vital for me to be aware of my position on the battlefield in regard to allies, enemies, and
terrain even though my attention was focused elsewhere.”
Alyna shivered with a deep, unexplainable chill and wrapped her arms around herself. “That makes a lot of sense, Garin. While I have seen my father training more times than I can count and sewed
his wounds closed just as often, I’ve never witnessed him in a pitched battle for his life.” She hesitated, her chill intensifying. “It would kill me to watch you or my father in that situation, the lists and tourneys alone terrify me.”
Garin stepped fo
rward, wrapping her in his arms. “Me, I can understand, especially since I am blind. But why would watching your father terrify you? He is one of the barony’s finest knights.”
“
Even if you could see, Garin, it would still frighten me. And
it’s
not becau
se I doubt yours or my father’s abilities. I can’t stand watching because I feel so terribly helpless.”
“
Aye,” he said softly. “I came to know that feeling all too well in the Holy Land as I watched friends die.” He sighed, adjusting his position so his
arm wrapped around her shoulders. “Come, let’s see if I can find my way back to the solar without your help.”
****
In the following weeks, Garin moved from the interior of the keep to the bailey and courtyard. Geoff and Simon helped him most often ou
tdoors but Alyna usually stayed with them.
Garin relearned the lay of his courtyard and every stone in the walls as he slid his sensitive fingers over them. They discovered he could even guide the training of squires and pages as Geoff described their wor
k with whalebone swords and blunted weapons. Alyna stood next to Garin her hand securely in his.
“
I don’t understand that young man,” Geoff said in irritation. “Trey a good fighter with fast reflexes but he keeps getting popped in the helm.”
Garin scowle
d. “Is it a hole in his defense?”
“
I don’t think so, he starts his attack but the other lad, who fostered with Sir
Ousby
for a time, nails Trey in the head more often than not.”
Garin abruptly chuckled. “Fostered with
Ousby
, eh? Trust me on this, Geoff,
your young man is signaling his attack before he makes it. If he’s getting hit in the head, he’s probably dropping his shield just slightly before launching the blow.
Ousby
teaches his lads to watch for that sort of thing. He used to nail me in the lis
ts before I figured it out.”
“
Good glory, why didn’t I see that?” Geoff muttered. “Trey,” he barked to the young man. “Try that attack against Marcus again.”
The two young men scuffled and Garin heard a distinctive thunk of a whalebone sword striking a m
etal helm.
“
I’ll be buggered,” Geoff growled. He stepped forward and yanked Trey aside,
speaking in low but vehement tones. Finally he returned to stand beside Garin. “Try again, Trey.”
Again the noise of a scuffle, followed by the telling thunk. Garin
fought back a laugh. “’Tis a hard habit to break, Geoff.”
“
Aye,” Geoff replied. “Again Trey, remember what I told you.”
A third time the lads battled. But this time Garin heard a whap of the whalebone sword striking chainmail, followed by a muffled gas
p for air.
“
Very good!” Geoff barked. He slapped Garin’s shoulder. “I told you the baron was right about you dropping your shield. Now keep practicing.”
“
Aye sir,” the lad said brightly.
Garin grinned and nodded.
****
The next day, Geoff and Simon too
k Garin to the barn and taught him to tend to a horse without his sight. His gray destrier was well trained and stood quietly while Garin bumbled around him. Soon he was able to groom and saddle his own mount.
Riding proved a different challenge howeve
r. While the horseman in Garin knew how to sit a mount, even if the animal spooked unexpectedly, Garin now had to rely on the horse to be his eyes. He learned to pay even more attention to the horse’s body, feeling the cues it gave him.
Then the mornin
g came when Geoff handed Garin a lance. Garin’s mouth went dry but he said nothing. Geoff slowly led the horse forward.
“
Bring the point of the lance across your body a little more,” Geoff said.
Garin did so.
“
Good, now, just a little lower....There!”
The horse moved forward another step and Garin felt the lance tip bump the wooden shield of the quintain. Geoff moved the horse away and back toward the starting line. “Now just remember the position of the lance and you should be able to hit it.” Agai
n he turned the horse and led it forward.
“
A little lower...lower....”
The horse continued to walk. The lance bumped the shield and Geoff led the horse past as the quintain squeaked on its pivot hinge, turning away.
“
That’s it!” Geoff said. “Now, I’ll le
ad you one more time and then we will let you try it on your own.”
Garin, his heart rattling, hit the quintain a second time but his stomach balled into a knot when Geoff moved away.
“
Now, walk your mount straight again. Trust him, Garin, you know he’s tr
ained for this.”
Summoning his courage, Garin walked the mount forward, paying close attention for any shift in weight that might signal if his mount drifted slightly.
“
Remember the distance.”
Garin had forgotten to count. He automatically lowered the lan
ce.
“
Too low, Garin, bring it up.”
He did so and felt the lance touch the quintain but then the tip slipped of the edge.
“
Try it again.”
Garin sighed and returned to the starting line where Geoff made sure he was
straight with the quintain. This time he r
emembered to count and his lance touched the quintain properly.
“
All right, keep this up and we can try a trot.”
Garin actually found the trot easier to gauge. The cadence of the horse’s hooves, a solid two beat count, brought him to the quintain quicker
but made the distance more constant and simpler to judge.
He hit the quintain solidly and heard the pivot hinge squeak as it took a better turn.
“
Nicely done, Swein,” Geoff said. “Soon, you’ll be doing that at a gallop just like usual.”
Garin found himsel
f looking forward to the challenge. He could once again do some of things he enjoyed in the past.
****
Alyna awoke one morning to find Garin already gone. His riding skills and confidence grew daily. A low rumble of thunder echoed and she frowned. Sh
e glanced at the glazed window. Rain descended from the skies in torrents. No work outside today. She heard another rumble but this one was of laughter and voices in the hall. Oh glory, the rain meant the men sought entertainment indoors.
Quickly dre
ssing, Alyna went downstairs, stopping in surprise. The servants had moved the huge tables. A large open square now graced the middle of the hall, the tables pushed against the walls. People crowded around the square, some standing on the tables so they
could see. Alyna’s mouth went dry - wrestling was a popular sport indoors and no doubt the wine cups were full and money exchanging hands. She frowned, she could not see Garin or her father. Slowly, Alyna made her way through the crowd.
She arrived i
n the front. Clean rushes were spread thick across the floor to protect the wrestlers but there were swashes of bare patches where the rushes had been pushed aside by the tumbling. She shook her head then froze. The two wrestlers were none other than Ga
rin and her father.
Both wore only boots and braccas, their torsos bare and glistening with sweat. Her father, still in his prime, was nearly as strong as Garin but she could plainly see the many scars that marred his chest and back from battle. The two
circled each other warily. Garin cocked his head slightly trying to listen over the sound of the cheering people. Alyna’s breath caught. He moved with a feline grace and balance that even her father did not possess.
Geoff lunged, his hands locking on Ga
rin’s left arm, trying to twist him off balance. Alyna clapped her hand over her mouth so she would not scream. There was murder in his gaze. Abruptly her memory returned to the day Garin had thrown the chair. Her father had the same look in his eyes.
Oh, Sweet Mary, what had happened?
Garin shoved his weight back and down, stepping slightly to the side. Geoff lurched forward. Garin, with a bellow, turned the move into a hip throw, tossing her father across his body as if he were nothing more than
a child.
Geoff hit the ground hard, grunting with the air knocked from his lungs. Everyone in the room flinched in sympathy but he quickly rolled to his stomach as Garin dove on top of him. Garin wrapped his arms around Geoff’s chest and tried to find th
e leverage to flip him. They scrambled for a long moment, a stalemate reached.
Alyna suddenly felt dizzy. In the press of people, she couldn’t breathe. She wanted to look away but she could not tear her gaze from the contorted faces of her father and he
r husband. They were going to kill each other.
With a burst of strength, Geoff pitched forward, loosening Garin’s grip. But as he sought to slide away, Garin shifted his weight and spun over his back, adjusting his hold. He lifted Geoff and flipped him.
Geoff strained to keep his back from touching the ground but Garin’s weight descended and held him motionless. For a span of three heartbeats they remained, frozen in time.
“
Winner!” Simon bellowed.
Abruptly Garin released her father and rolled away la
ughing.
Alyna blinked. Laughing?
Her father sat up, grinning broadly. “Blast you, Swein, I had forgotten how slippery you are.”
Garin got to his feet, bending with his hands on his knees, and breathing hard. “I picked up a few tricks in the Holy Land.”
He laughed again and offered his hand. Geoff accepted it and Garin hauled him to his feet. “Care to go again? Best two out of three.”