One, they were even more beautiful out in the sun, doing things they enjoyed, not cowering in a bed, terrified out of their minds.
The other was that they both needed to put on hats.
“They should have hats,” I murmured, staring at them, my heart pounding, my eyes beginning to hurt from just looking at all the beauty that was them.
“Try getting a hat on young master Christophe,” Loretta mumbled. “I’ve heard he’s stubborn, that one. His father doesn’t wear a hat, he won’t either.”
At her words, I felt my lips curve even as my eyes kept burning.
“They’re beautiful,” I whispered.
“They are indeed, Maddie,” Meeta agreed from up close, her hand coming out to hold mine.
Christophe let his arrow fly. It hit just outside the bulls-eye and I fought against cheering at the same time I fought against crying.
“They need a mother,” Meeta went on and my heart squeezed just as her hand squeezed mine. “A mother would put hats on them.”
She would. A mother would put hats on them. And tell them to eat their vegetables. And cheer when they made an almost bulls-eye. And help them make snow castles.
My throat started burning at the same time my scalp prickled in a weird warning and it was the latter that caught my attention.
I tore my eyes away from the children to do a scan of the area and I saw two men I’d never seen before in the forest by the furthest gazebo.
And they, too, were skulking, their eyes, I was sure even though I was far away, aimed at the kids.
Shit!
Apollo’s men wouldn’t skulk. They would have no need to skulk. It surprised me to know it, but with the presence of two skulking men, men obviously who weren’t supposed to be there, it was apparent Apollo’s men were falling down on the job at keeping Ulfr land safe.
But I couldn’t think of that.
All I could think was that two rough-looking men were skulking towards the kids. And (except the way Loretta, Meeta and I were doing it), I knew skulking led to no good.
Therefore, quickly, I let Meeta’s hand go and moved away from the tree I was hiding behind, looking this way and that, ordering in a quiet but urgent voice, “Go! Around the front. Head to the house. Find someone and tell them there’s a threat to the children in the back garden.”
“Maddie—” Loretta started as I found what I was looking for, dashed forward and pulled a stout, fallen branch out of the snow.
I whipped around to the girls. “Go!” I snapped, and didn’t wait to see if they did as I told them to do.
I moved.
Darting through the trees on the edge of the clearing, I kept my eyes to the men who were rounding the kids the other way. They weren’t rushing (one couldn’t rush while skulking) and I was, so I got close fast as they moved into the clearing, their eyes on the kids, their bodies bent low in a threatening way, their clothing warm but rough, heavy beards on their faces.
I moved in from behind.
The one coming up the rear heard my boots in the snow, turned and I saw his eyes widen in surprise because I was ready to strike. I had the branch back; I closed in on him quickly, and swung at him with everything I had.
Unfortunately, he had time to lift up a forearm so he caught the force of my blow there when I was aiming at his head.
Fortunately, I had another weapon at my disposal, my big mouth.
“Kids! Run!” I shouted just as the big guy with his scruffy beard caught the branch and wrested it from my hands. “Run!” I shrieked, launching myself at him, uncertain what I intended to do, just that I intended to do something.
I didn’t make it.
Not because he fended me off.
No, because an iron arm clamped around my waist from behind and I was hauled back into a strong body.