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

on his face. There was what appeared to be the remains of a meal spread out around
them; one or two were still chewing, and Robin could smell the sharp tang of the ale
in the small open cask that lounged on the greensward among them.
тАЬA very good day to you, Master Robin,тАЭ said Bill, his arms folded across his
negligible chest, the sole of one foot cocked nonchalantly against his tree. тАЬIтАЩm
afraid I canтАЩt suggest that you join our feedтАФI fear there is little left but crumbs.тАЭ
Tom stood up, and Robin recalled that Tom was the only forester his father, who
could see goodness in almost anybody, had called bad. Tom was still grinning; there
were small strings of meat caught between his teeth. He shot the kingтАЩs deer for his
own belly whenever he chose, and the Chief Forester looked the other wayтАФso long
as he got a haunch of it. тАЬPerhaps young Robin would like the crumbsтАФheтАЩs a little
too thin, donтАЩt you think, lads?тАЭ He reached out as Robin stood hesitating a few
paces from where Bill leaned against his tree, and seized his arm.
Robin could not stop the spasm of disgust that crossed his face as the manтАЩs
fingers touched him, and he jerked himself free with an unnecessary violenceтАФa
violence that he knew at once had cost him any chance he might have had in
escaping this meeting without some kind of skirmish.
Tom laughed, for he knew it too, and it was what he wanted; and he was pleased
that his prey had proved so easy to bait. He pawed at Robin again, circling the
young manтАЩs upper arm with his thick fingers. тАЬToo thin, eh, lads? Too thin to do a
manтАЩs work as a forester?тАЭ
Robin flushed but stood stiffly and said nothing, hoping against his better
judgement that Tom might yet let him pass.
But Tom only stretched out his other hand, and pulled one of RobinтАЩs arrows half
out of the quiverтАФby the feathers, Robin knew, and he gritted his teeth, for he could
not afford damage to even one of his arrowsтАФand then let it drop again, and Robin
heard the protest of the other stiff pinions as the dropped shaft forced its way
downward. тАЬAnd certainly too thin and weak to draw a manтАЩs bow like a man.тАЭ
He laughed again, and the hot foul wash of his ale-smelling breath over RobinтАЩs
face brought all the young manтАЩs frustrations to a boil. Tom knew as well as he
himself did that he could not easily draw his fatherтАЩs bow, which was a
handтАЩs-length longer and better than a stone heavier to pull than the plainer, lighter
bow he carried. He kept his fatherтАЩs bow in what had been his fatherтАЩs room,
carefully wrapped and stored against damp and rodent teeth; and occasionally he
took it out and practised with it, when no one was near. But he could not bear it that
this man should gibe at him so, now, and just before anger stopped thought
altogether he said to himself: They are here to trap meтАФwell, let them do their worst.
And then the anger overcame him, and he snarled at his tormentor: тАЬI can draw a
bow as well as you, or any other fat forester who can barely sight down his arrow
for fear of stinging his paunch with the released string.тАЭ
 Now Tom let go of Robin and his own face began to flush up with anger, and Bill
dropped his crossed arms and stood warily, and the other four men stopped
chewing and got to their feet. What they thought of doing or might have done Robin
did not know; but anger still darkened his mind and while it did he felt no fear. тАЬIf
you choose to doubt me, then I will happily meet you at the Nottingham Fair later
today, for I go now to that place that I may see how I fare at the archery contest.
And I will say that I will shoot far more handsomely than you, whose greasy hands
will let his bow slip, and mayhap his arrow shall pierce the sheriffтАЩs hat where he sits
watching the performance, and then you shall win a prize specially for you, and yet
like not what you might have chosen.тАЭ