"Robin McKinley - The Outlaws of Sherwood" - читать интересную книгу автора (McKinley Robin)

and toys, the spices and wines; and everything would please them.
Robin had contrived to finish off another couple dozen arrows since Nobble had
called out his name a fortnight ago, working late into the evenings at great expense of
sleep and strengthтАФand of eyesight, crouched over one flickering candle till his head
ached so badly that he saw twenty fingers and forty arrows. But he knew he would
be able to sell them to Sir Richard of the Lea, his best customerтАФand the kindest,
though Robin tried not to think about that too much in the fear that he might realise
he should not accept the kindness. Sir Richard was unusual in that he permitted
himself, a knight, to be interested in this commonerтАЩs sport. He had first bought
arrows from RobinтАЩs father, and had not only organised his own levies to practise
with their bows, but he even learnt to shoot himself, and had caused something of a
ripple in local aristocratic society by claiming that he quite enjoyed it. But, he said, it
was only sense to wish to send archers to the Lionheart in Palestine since the news
of the SaracensтАЩ at-the-gallop harassment of properly armed knights had come home
to England.
It was a great pity, as everyone said, that such a good man (and forward-looking,
said those who approved of his archery; if misguided, said those who did not)
should have such a worthless son. There was a good deal of local consternation,
among both the high and low, at the prospect of the sonтАЩs eventual inheritance of the
fatherтАЩs estates. The sanguine held that, barring an unlucky pox or dropsy, the son
would kill himself at one of his headlong games before such a fate came to be. And
there was no point in speculatingтАФwhich everyone then immediately didтАФwhom the
king might in such a case assign the estates to.
Robin himself was keeping an eye out for the son as he walked toward Mapperley
Castle; he bore a small but slow to fade scar on the back of his neck where young
Richard had laid his hunting-whip when Robin had not gotten out of what Richard
perceived as his way quickly enough to suit. The son might have had more trouble if
his father were less loved; as it was, yeoman farmers got both their flocks and their
daughters under cover when young Richard was heard of, and elegant dinner parties
in several counties were enlivened by tales of his exploits.
Sir Richard, who had not ordered any new arrows, still let his man show Robin at
once into the room where he sat. He said, with the smallest trace of amusement in his
gentle voice, тАЬHave you an especial need for ready money, perhaps? Have you
permission to go to the fair?тАЭ
Robin acknowledged, somewhat guiltily, that this was true. But Sir Richard
willingly examined the arrows, as carefully as if he had long awaited them. тАЬYou have
more than earned your fee with these,тАЭ he said. тАЬThey are very fine.тАЭ A blessing on
that wandering goose, Robin thought, whose feathers he had ransacked before
returning it, only a little the worse for wear, to its coop. Sir Richard stood up from
behind his great desk and fumbled for his purse; and he pressed coins into RobinтАЩs
hand and curled the young manтАЩs fingers around them as he turned him toward the
door to the long hall that led down stairs and at last to the kitchens.
The smell of cooking made RobinтАЩs head swim. He knew he was accepting
charity, but he was also relentlessly hungry and almost never ate meat; and Sir
Richard had enough money to support not only his lands but his wastrel son. The
odd extra meal for a craftsman worth his salt (Robin told himself) was no ignominy,
on either side. It was not until his mouth was already full of beef and gravy and
bread that he thought to look at the coins Sir Richard had given him; and found that
he had been paid half again his usual price.
So Robin had enough money in his pouch to throw to a juggler who might