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

"Idiot!"
"Fool!"
"Coward!"
Wycliff jerked his tired horse to a halt. He grabbed for his sword. "No
man calls me coward!"
Roger clutched at his own hilt. He had to drag his horse backwards, for
there was no room to swing. The Nottingham road was very narrow
here, overgrown at the sides from neglect. "No man calls me fool!
Defend --"
His horse snorted.
From out of nowhere, Little John said, "You're both fools. And
loudmouths. Let's call it even."
The giant -- he was the biggest man the knights had ever seen -- filled
most of the road. He held a quarterstaff lightly across the horses'
throats. He smiled at their discomfit.
Roger was furious at the impertinence, Wycliff blind with anger. They
both raised their swords. Roger snarled, "You scut! I'll --"
A cord snagged his throat. His Adam's apple was wrenched out of joint
as an irresistable force tugged him backwards. The knight tumbled out
of the saddle and landed hard on his head and shoulder.
Sprawled in the road, Roger and Wycliff rubbed their throats and
gagged curses. Facing them were more outlaws in green. Their bows
had been slipped over the knights' heads while the giant distracted
them. Will Scarlett examined his bow, then used it to rap Wycliff on the
helmet.
Tonk! "You cut my string with your blade."
Snarling, Wycliff dove for the outlaw. Scarlett skipped aside and let him
pass. The mad knight plowed into old Will Stutly and both went
sprawling.
Will Stutly growled on his own as the knight pummeled him. Will didn't
bother to call for help -- he knew better. He tossed his bow and jammed
both thumbs into the knight's eyes. Hard-Hitting Brand crashed a fist
onto the side of Wycliff's neck and knocked him loose. Brand stamped
on the man's back and snatched away his knife. The outlaws tied his
hands with the broken bowstring.
Roger felt a rap on his helmet. He looked up, and up.
Little John pointed at the saddles. "Where's the widow's gold?"
Roger swore. "We lost it. One of our men -- old Tom -- ran off with it."
He watched Wycliff thrash on the floor like a suckling pig. Why had he
taken up thieving with these three: one mad, one stupid, one decrepit?
Next time he'd enlist real men-at-arms.
The giant rested his quarterstaff on the ground and rolled it between his
hands as if drilling. "Hmmm..."
Scarlett grinned. "This puts us up even more on Robin. We've robbed
the sheriff, paid back the widow, and now captured two of the knights."
"This ain't a contest, I tell ya. Where'd the old man get to?"
"I don't know. Away."
"Where's the other one, then? There was supposed to four of ye."
"He ran off too."
"Is that so? But no widow's gold, eh?"