"Clayton Emery - Robin Hood's Treasure" - читать интересную книгу автора (Emery Clayton)

again below the fresh cut of the morning. "Well, let's get to it! We're
tired of wandering these damned woods for nothing."
"Me, too," Robin replied. He pointed. "That way."
The men mounted and Robin took the lead. He turned for a slight detour
so he could drink from a brook.
He pondered his new plan. He would lead the knights towards camp.
He'd make noise to alert the lookout, sing a signal, and his Merry Men
would ambush these knights. They were begging to be killed anyway.
He hoped the lookouts weren't asleep.


"`West by northwest. West by northwest.' What kind of directions are
those?"
Cnut, the boy from the Blue Boar Inn, had almost given up hope of
finding Robin Hood's camp when he saw the smoke. It spiralled up in
the middle distance, white and thick. A cook fire full of grease, he
guessed. Didn't it seem unwise to make so much smoke if they were
hiding from the sheriff's soldiers?
Cnut came to the clearing at the foot of a hill. The smoke came from an
animal carcass -- it must be a deer -- that had ignited from too hot a
fire.
A man beat at the flames with a stick. His mad flailing broke the spit
and dropped the meat into the fire. More beating whipped up flames
and ash and set the stick afire. In flailing the stick about, he set fire to
the back of his tunic.
Cnut ran up, snatched off his filthy apron, and whapped at the flames on
the forester's back.
Much the Miller's Son spun around. Someone was hitting him. He struck
back with the charred stick. The boy tried to get behind him. Robin
Hood had told Much never to turn his back on an enemy, so the idiot
danced in circles. The boy followed, shouting. Much hit him with the
stick and left black streaks on his hat and face.
Cnut finally just pushed the forester over to crash on his back. Then he
backpedaled out of range.
Much got up slowly, like a turtle. He tried to remember what all the
excitement had been. He studied the boy, a young boy from town.
(Anyone not a forester was "from town.") "Hail," Much told him, in
Robin's voice. "Wel-come to camp. What do you want? Why you wear a
skirt?"
Cnut panted as he tied his apron back on. "I don't know. It's not. We
need help. Or you do. Not us, you. There are robbers and they've got
Robin Hood. They knocked him down and kicked him --"
Much remembered. "You knocked me down."
"Y-yes, I did. You were on fire."
"Oh." Much frowned. "What do you want?"
"These robbers, knights, false knights, with horses. They've got Robin
Hood. They took him away."
"Where they take him?"
"Uh, to camp." Cnut looked around. Some crows had landed on the
lower branches of an oak tree to investigate the meat smell, but that