‘What’s a doxy?’ asked Yori.

‘His girlfriend, only a lot more vicious!’

‘We might have to – mess with him, I mean,’ Jack said, as he noticed the flintlock gun on the upright-man’s hip.

Rose stared at Jack. ‘This isn’t our problem. Why get involved?’

‘Because if we don’t, no one else will.’

‘But there must be ten or more of them!’ protested Rose.

‘We’ve battled worse odds,’ said Akiko, nocking an arrow in preparation. ‘You stay here if you’re scared.’

Rose bristled. ‘I ain’t scared. Just realistic! I mean, why risk our lives for two nobles we don’t even know?’

‘Next to creating a life, the greatest thing a man or woman can do is save one,’ explained Yori, his hands clutching the shaft of his shakujō so tightly that his knuckles were white.

In the clearing, the upright-man approached his bound victims. ‘Today’s your lucky day, sirrah.’

‘Lucky?’ growled Lord Percival, struggling against his bonds. ‘How can you call this lucky?’

‘Well, I ain’t in a killing mood this morning,’ the thief replied with a grunt of a laugh. ‘However, Hazel ’ere does need some target practice with my pistol.’ He drew the flintlock gun from his belt and handed the weapon to his doxy. Then he pulled an apple from his pocket, and took a large bite out of it before placing the fruit upon Lady Catherine’s head.

‘Don’t move,’ advised the upright-man. He strode over to where his doxy now waited a dozen metres from the tree. ‘I’m sure you’ve heard the story of William Tell? Well, if Hazel manages to shoot the apple from your wife’s head … I’ll let her go free.’

‘Est-ce vrai?’ asked Lady Catherine, glancing in hope at her husband.

The gang leader nodded. ‘Except Hazel ain’t a very good shot.’

‘No, I don’t see so well, do I, Guy?’ his doxy said. She adopted a wide-legged stance, raised the pistol, closed one eye and took an unsteady aim.

‘No … no … wait!’ begged Lord Percival, as his wife trembled so much that the apple threatened to tumble to the ground.

Hazel pulled the trigger. The flintlock ignited the powder and a loud crack rang out. Lady Catherine yelped as the bullet struck the tree, bark exploding in a shower of splinters just above the apple – and her head.

‘Not bad,’ encouraged Guy, grinning at his girl. ‘Have another go.’

Hazel began the process of refilling the pistol barrel with powder and shot. Lady Catherine, her face pale as a lily, started sobbing, while her husband pleaded for her life.

‘If we don’t rescue them,’ said Jack, ‘that girl’s going to blow that poor woman’s head off sooner or later.’

‘Rather her than one of us!’ replied Rose. ‘You’re here to find your sister, not be a hero.’

An ominous click signalled that the gun was ready to fire.