"Aha! This is the tree I sought." Aramis let go the Queen's hand and gestured ahead.
Anne looked around. "Your horse -?"
Aramis waved a hand dismissively. "Elsewhere. This is the real key to getting safely back to Paris."
He parted the branches of a low-slung hazel and brought out a small wicker cage. Inside, a grey bird blinked mildly at them.
"Breakfast?" asked Anne, lifting her eyebrows.
But before Aramis could reply, there was the noise of running feet and then two men in broad-brimmed hats burst from the trees.
"Get back!" Aramis pushed Anne behind him, drawing his pistol as he did. "Come no nearer," he warned the strangers.
Anne straightened and ducked out from behind Aramis. "They are not the Duke's men," she said.
"Stay back! Please."
"Your valuables. Now." The larger of the two men pointed a rough arqubus at Aramis and scowled. The smaller man offered the point of his sword.
"I am a poor man," said Aramis in a quavering voice, "rich only in the company of my beloved sister. Anything of mine you can have, only spare her."
Anne was shocked at his easy defeat. "Resist them!" she said as Aramis began to unfasten his purse. But he nudged her and then she saw that under cover of fumbling with the buckle, he was closing his hand around his own pistol. "Stay back, sister," he said loudly, "these scoundrels stop at nothing."
In fact they had stopped already, pleased at their easy prey.
Anne retreated to give Aramis more space to fire.
He drew out the pistol and took aim at the strangers, firing a shot before they could react. The leader fell, screaming. His friend rushed forward, sword in hand.
Aramis sighed and drew his sword also. "I won't be long," he said to Anne. "Can you release the pigeon?"
She ran to the wicker cage and unlatched it. "Come on, come out - "
"Put down your weapon," Aramis said to the robber, who was making thrusts to no effect. "I can parry for an hour if need be, but I will become bored."
He darted at the man, and made a scratch. The man yelped, thrust again, and missed.
"I am already finding this very dull," said Aramis.
Then his opponent made a hit, and Aramis, enraged, thrust at him. Anne saw the robber strike, a great slash across Aramis' chest. Then as Aramis staggered back, the robber drew a pistol.
Anne shrieked, and grasping the pigeon threw it into the face of the attacker. The bird flew up at once in a flurry of clapping wings, and the man, surprised, let his shot fly wild.
Aramis leapt forward but before he could lay the deadly blow a shot from within the trees struck the robber, felling him.
"That wasn't meant for him," said Aramis, shepherding Anne behind him.
He aimed his pistols in the direction of the shot as Anne, trembling, held the empty pigeon cage. "At least the bird is away. Its message will bring help."
There was silence, just an urgent cawing and flapping from the treetops over their heads.
"Oh," said Aramis, glancing up.
And the pigeon fell dead at his feet.