"Brotherhood Of The Sword - 04 - A Dark Champion" - читать интересную книгу автора (MacGregor Kinley)

The other women stepped over her while one tried to swipe his hank of hair from
the fallen woman's grasp. The "unconscious" woman quickly bit her and then ran
off with her trophy.
That only started a frenzy as other women tried to get their own piece of his
flesh.
Stryder didn't want to hurt any of the women, but disengaging them without
violence was proving to be nearly impossible.
"Ladies, ladies!" a loud male voice boomed. "Please, a moment for his lordship
who needs confess the multitude of sins he has committed."
Stryder gave a rare smile as he recognized the heavily accented voice of
Christian of Acre. It had been nigh to three years since he last had the
pleasure of seeing his old friend.
The women pouted in unison as they fell back and made room for the man who was
dressed in a friar's homespun black habit.
But as they caught a look at Christian's tall, muscular form, their faces
brightened considerably.
" 'Tis a pity he's a monk," one of the women said rather loudly.
"Aye," another agreed.
Little did they know there was no holy oath binding the blond man in their
midst. Christian wore a monk's clothes to keep his identity secret.
It was evidenced by the spurs that occasionally flashed from beneath the black
hem that trailed on the ground and the black cowl that was drawn over his head
to hide the fact that Christian lacked a tonsure. This was no cleric, but rather
one of the finest swordsmen Stryder had ever beheld.
Not to mention that in his mother's homeland of Byzantium, Christian of Acre was
a royal prince who was only one step away from the throne.
"Abbot," Stryder said in greeting as he shook Christian's proffered arm. "It's
been too long."
"Aye," Christian agreed, gripping Stryder's arm tightly and patting him roughly
on the shoulder. "It has indeed. But it appears little has changed with you."
Christian's blue gaze swept through the women, who were still reluctant to leave
them.
Stryder let out a tired breath. "True, very true."
"Brother?" one of the women asked Christian. She was a petite brunette with lush
curves. The open invitation on her face said that if Christian agreed to it they
would both be needing a priest to confess to by morning. "Might I give my
confession later?"
A devilish look flashed in Christian's eyes. Stryder could see him weighing his
answer carefully.
When he spoke, his words were what Stryder had expected. Christian might be a
heathen in his current beliefs, but he still bore enough respect for the clergy
who had raised him that he would never dishonor their reputation by accepting a
woman's invitation while he wore a holy man's garb. "Aye, my lady. I am told the
local priest here has quite a few openings."
Her face fell with disappointment.
"If you ladies will forgive us" Christian led the way out of the group, toward
the brightly colored tents that the knights had pitched on a hill outside the
castle walls.
More than three hundred knights had ventured to Hexham for the monthlong games
that were held every year in the fall. Unlike the other knights, Stryder hadn't