Free Blind Impulse by Kathryn Loch Page A

he sat .  “Let me help you with your boots,” she said.  “I have a tea for your headaches.  Would you like me to prepare it?”
    “ Please.”
    She tugged off his boots and moved away.  Garin removed his belt, tunic, and braccas, wearing only his brai es.  His head spun.  What was he going to say?  What was he going to do?  He suddenly felt like a novice - a sensation he thought to never feel again.  He knew well how to pleasure a woman.  But now, without his sight, he would be a an uncoordinated idiot.   How could he even think that Alyna would want him to touch her?  A blind man should not expect such luxury. 
    He rubbed his throbbing temples.  Alyna returned to his side.  “The tea will be ready in a moment.”
    “ Alyna...,” he said, his voice strained.
    “ I know.”  Her voice was just as tight.  “I’m not sure if I’m ready either.”
    Relief and anger surged through him leaving only massive confusion in its wake.  Alyna did not want him to do anything so he did not have to worry about making a fool of himself.  Bu t how long had he dreamed of this moment?  How long had he wanted to sweep her into his arms and love her until she could only whimper his name?  But Alyna did not want him because he was blind.
    He pressed the heels of his hands against the sides of his he ad before it exploded.  Alyna took one of his hands and guided it to a cup.  He drank the bitter tea quickly.  He had a feeling it would knock him senseless but he did not care.
    “ Lay back,” she said softly.  He did so then heard her disrobing, gently she c rawled into bed with him.  He felt the soft material of her shift against his skin.  She propped herself up with her pillows and guided his head to her lap.  Her fingers ran through his hair and she gently massaged his head and neck, humming softly. 
    Star tled, he lay coiled next to her, wondering what she was about.  But her hands kept working and Garin soon found his eyes growing heavy.  The band of pain around his head broke free and he slipped into a deep sleep.
    ****
    Garin’s horse squealed in agony.  Pain surged through his body as the animal collapsed in its headlong rush through enemy lines.  Garin slammed into the ground, the breath knocked from his lungs.  His vision turned black but he felt blood on his face.  His comrades fell around him, screami ng in anguish.
    Garin’s mount thrashed in its death throes then abruptly fell still.  Garin tried to move, but fire shot through his left leg, the huge destrier on top of it, pinning him to the ground.
    A man shrieked in terror and something landed heavily on top of him.  Garin blinked his bloody vision clear and strangled on a cry as he focused on dead eyes staring into his, the dead crusader’s face less than an inch from his own.
    Garin tried to knock the body off of him but his shield, pinned his left arm against his chest.  The dead man trapped Garin’s right arm and he could not find the leverage to shove the body away.  Garin squeezed his eyes closed, trying to suck in a breath.  Bodies of his knightly brothers piled around and on top of him.  The stench of blood and death assailed him.
    The horrible screams of man and horse, the sharp clash of weapons, and the thunder of heavy cavalry colliding with shield walls gradually faded.  Garin continued to struggle, trying to free himself from the mound of death t hat covered him.
    Then he heard the sharp voices of the enemy and realized a handful walked through the dead, killing those who were mortally wounded, taking prisoners of those who were not, and looting the bodies.  He fell still and kept his eyes closed, s uddenly grateful for the shield and bodies covering him.  He prayed Simon would search for him; if his friend had survived the day.
    He felt something shoved into his back and a scream resounded in his ears.  One man who lay near him had been alive but was no longer.  Hands searched the bodies around him, roughly