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

Will Scarlett whipped back his hand and flung the coins. Gold and silver
sparkled in the air and pelted the sheriff and his men. The sheriff
ducked. His men grabbed at the air with one hand.
Little John spun around and slung his huge quarterstaff by one end.
Crossbows thunked. The staff hummed through the air and slammed
into two soldiers behind.
Will Stutly hopped backwards into Simon, jostling him out of the way.
Another crossbowman shot. The bolt sizzled overhead. The other took
aim, too late. With arthritic hands Will nocked an arrow, half-drew, and
loosed before the man could pull the trigger. The long arrow caught him
in the upper chest. He cried out and folded, dropping his crossbow to
clutch the shaft.
Will Scarlett followed his gold-throwing with a knife. He aimed for the
one man who'd kept his head. The soldier ducked. By that time
Hard-Hitting Brand was over the wreakage and among the soldiers. He
slung his fists and bowled men over. He made sure their crossbows
went flying.
"That's it!" Little John cried. "Run!"
The giant grabbed Simon by the shoulder and spun him around towards
the road. Scarlett was already there with an arrow nocked. Will Stutly
looked for a ready victim. Brand caught at the old man as he ran past.
"Come on, Will!"
"Always hurryin'." He pegged his arrow at the most alert soldier and
scuttled along.
Ten minutes later and many trees deep into the forest, the outlaws
stopped to catch their breath. They were built for walking, and not
running.
"Fine thing," Scarlett gasped. "You get robbed selling the knights' tackle
-- and then robbed by the sheriff."
"If you hadn't been arguin' about money --" wheezed Little John, "-- we
would'a spotted the sheriff hiding."
"If you had listened to me -- we wouldn't have come -- in the first place."
"You came along. I gave you a choice."
"I don't care about the money anyway -- I just like arguin'." He grinned.
"You still going to give the widow -- ten marks when you see her?"
Little John huffed. "No, I'm going to give her you. If she's travelling the
roads, she'll need an ass. Let's get back to camp. We've done enough
today."
"What have we done?" Simon asked.
The giant snorted. Lacking his quarterstaff, his hands clasped and
unclasped. "We'll figure it out later. Let's go."
Stutly cursed. "Always hurrying."
"If you lot could shoot better, we wouldn't have this problem! Damned
slippery outlaws. Cowards. Why didn't you pot them? We'd be out a
few headaches, or I'm a fishmonger."
The sheriff berated his men in a flat uninterested monotone. His soldiers
clutched their wounds and grit their teeth and said nothing.
"We'll have more practice, I can assure you that. Up before dawn, now
that the days are longer, out there in the sun until you can knock a
mosquito off a squirrel's ear. Eighty marks down and only thirty-five