King Louis XIII is a weak leader with no love for his wife Queen Anne. Power, saving face, and honor are paramount, always. Laurel — the secret leader of France's spy network — has absolutely no doubt that he would plunge France into another devastating war if he learns Queen Anne has been kidnapped. Laurel and the musketeers attempt to find and rescue the queen, all without telling the king that his wife, pregnant with Louis XIV, has been abducted. God may save the queen, but who will save the heroes? Excerpt 1: The woman shook her head. “I will slow you down too much. You’ve got to find Laurel, Athos, and Porthos. Go on ahead. Bring them back here. Please. Please,” she pleaded. “And how will you defend yourself?” Aramis pressed. The woman shifted and pulled the pistol from her waistband. She cocked and primed it. “I am still well enough to shoot,” she replied. Aramis grabbed his sword and stood. Porthos’ sister was far more courageous and self-sufficient than he ever would have suspected. “I’ll be back as quickly as I can. Try to stay out of sight.” The musketeer dashed off down the corridor, Yvette watching, holding tight to the gun as if it were her lifeline. “God, please, let Aramis come back soon.” She was not brave enough for this. Already shock was setting in, and she felt ready to burst into tears. She would have called Aramis back, but he was already gone. Excerpt 2: Athos! Laurel charged forward, yelling like a woman gone crazy. It was enough to distract an opponent who had been about to deliver a blow that would have sliced Athos’ left arm off at the shoulder. The fighter glanced at her with contempt and turned his back on the woman, returning to his attack on the tired musketeer. Yet Athos remained remarkably persistent despite the ragged wound that had pierced his right shoulder. And he could have warned the man not to turn his back on Mademoiselle Laurel, but he rather preferred it this way. For with one clean stroke Laurel slashed the attacker’s arm, causing him to clutch at the bleeding limb and drop his sword. He’d never be able to use the arm again. Laurel had severed every muscle and tendon clear to the bone. “Never turn your back on an opponent, and never underestimate a woman,” she advised as she sidestepped the wounded man and came to stand by Athos’ side. “I must confess, it is very good to see you, mademoiselle,” Athos said, taking advantage of the brief respite.