Broken Dove (Fantasyland 4)

“Yes, sir,” she replied and he felt her dashing out of the study behind him.

But he didn’t look to see where she’d gone. He didn’t look back to Madeleine.

He moved with purpose to find his men, give orders and then find his son.

* * * * *

Apollo on Torment dashed through the forest at a full gallop, so fast he could feel his cloak flying out behind him.

He was guiding his horse, his eyes riveted to the tracks in the snow.

But he let his steed avoid the trees and low hanging branches.

There were two sets of small tracks.

Two sets of small tracks that stated that unless Christophe was abducted by a dwarf, he’d run away with Nathaniel.

And if he’d done this, once they found him, he would embrace his son.

Then he’d tan his arse.

As if sensing these were his thoughts, he heard Achilles call out from behind him, “Stay calm, Lo.”

Easy advice to give, not having a son in these times…or ever.

Not advice he could, or would, take.

“Apollo!” He heard Frey shout, also from behind him, these two being the two Apollo had chosen to search with him as the men separated in order to cover more ground.

It was not luck but good tracking skills that they’d noted quite close to the house how the boys had swept the snow to hide their tracks. They’d followed the well-disguised (but not well enough) trail. Then they’d found where the boys had thought they were safely away and had stopped bothering to hide their tracks.

At Frey’s shout, he looked up from the snow and caught sight of what was approaching them.

It was a horse and on it was a man who did not look like he belonged on a horse in a frozen forest, but instead would look perfectly at home on the deck of a ship.

And this was because he was the man who taught Frey everything he knew about ships.

The man who was now first mate on Frey’s ship.

And a man who’d mastered the art of curmudgeonry.

Kell.

Kell’s horse was dragging a narrow pack sleigh and perched precariously on top of its load was Nathaniel.

In front of Kell on the horse was Christophe.

Bridling fear that had turned into anger, Apollo reined in Torment and felt Frey and Achilles rein in on either side of him.

Kell approached and stopped his horse and sleigh but feet from the men.

Without a greeting, Kell looked right at Apollo and called out, “Found these two settin’ up a tent and tryin’ to build a fire. Seein’ as I didn’t ‘spect you’d want your boy, and whoever that lad is”—he jerked his head to indicate Nathaniel behind him—“to be bear food, I convinced ‘em to come with me.”

From the mutinous look on his son’s face, and the terrified one on Nathaniel’s as he eyed the Head of the House where he was employed, Apollo wondered briefly how Kell had convinced them of anything.

He had no opportunity to ask for Frey spoke.

“Bears are hibernating, Kell.”

“Aye.” Kell nodded. “Too true. But I reckon they’d come out for a tender morsel of boy meat.”

Apollo watched his son pale and knew how Kell convinced them to go with him.

He dug his heels into Torment and his horse led him to the side of Kell’s.

“Put him down,” he commanded.

Kell’s eyes in his weathered face gave Apollo a once-over.

And Apollo knew what he saw when he said, “Will do after you tell me your feelin’s about corporal punishment.”

Apollo speared him with his scowl.

“Put. Him. Down.”

Kell held his angry gaze for a moment before his went to Frey and finally he slid Christophe to his boots in the snow.

The minute Apollo heard the crunch, the leather of his saddle creaked as he dismounted.

He put a hand to his boy’s shoulder and led him away from the horses and into the trees.

He felt his son’s tight muscles and saw his set face but when Apollo stopped them, Christophe didn’t hesitate to tip his head back and look right into his father’s eyes.

Now he felt pride, as well as anger.

Bloody hell.

Apollo took a deep breath and let it out before he said quietly, “You are very aware there is danger.”

Christophe’s eyes flashed but he said nothing.

Apollo did not do the same.

“Thus you would be very aware that the news you were missing would cause panic and distress.”

He saw his son swallow but he remained silent.

“Bella was beside herself,” Apollo told him, and at that, he lost his son’s eyes. “Look at me, Chris.” Christophe looked back to him. “The news of your disappearance was kept from your sister. But if it had not been, if she was the one to discover you were gone, how do you think she’d feel?”

Finally, he spoke.

“Bella told us she was lunching with us.”

“She?”

He watched Christophe clench his teeth but he said nothing.

“So, you’re not saying Maddie’s name now?” he asked.

Christophe looked to the side.

“Give me your eyes, son,” Apollo ordered on a squeeze of his shoulder.

Christophe looked back.

“Why did you run away?” he queried.

“I didn’t want to be around her.”

“Why did this make you run away?” Apollo pushed.

“I just didn’t want to be around her.”

“And you ran away instead of discussing this with me?”

His lips twisted into a half-sneer when he stated, “You want to be around her.”

“I do,” Apollo agreed. “She makes me laugh. She makes me happy. She—”

“She does all that because she looks like Mum,” he bit out.

Apollo took in another deep breath and let it out.

Only then did he speak.

“You know that’s not true.”

“Yes?” he asked, his boy’s voice filled with sarcasm. “How?”

“You’ve spent time with Maddie. You’re very aware she isn’t your mother.”

“Yes. I’m very aware of that, Father. Are you?”

His hand again tensed on Christophe’s shoulder but this time it did it of its own accord.

By the gods.

That grief.

That anger.

Apollo had been mistaken.

He should not have left it this long.

He stared into Christophe’s eyes.

“Yes, son,” he whispered. “I’m very aware of that. I’m very aware that losing your mother felt like half my soul had been torn away. I’m very aware that the only moments since she passed that gave me joy were the moments I spent with your sister and you. I’m very aware that I had grown so accustomed to feeling joyless that I lost hope I’d ever feel that way again, the way only your mother could give to me. And I’m also very aware that at first, I was much like you. I felt anger that Madeleine could look so like your mother and not be her. This anger came after I held hope, even though I knew it was wrong, perhaps even cruel to expect that of Maddie, that she would be your mother returned. And I treated Madeleine to that anger when I understood she was not.”