Robin Hood Read Online Free Page B

managed to hook not only the leather sack, but also his cloak. He flailed his arms and kicked his feet, trying desperately to break free, but to no avail. Seeing this, several of the French archers leaned out over the wall again and tried to finish him.
As Will and Allan fired at the bowmen, Robin dashed toward the castle. Halfway there, he scooped up a discarded shield, practically without breaking stride. When he reached the base of the gate, he shouted Jimoen's name and tossed the shield up to the lad.
Jimoen caught it, and put it over his head, barely in time to block a bolt that would have pierced his skull.
Robin began to climb, hearing cheers behind him.
“Look what they do for the Lionheart!” he heard the king call out.
The French archers were still firing, but as he drew closer to Jimoen, Robin caught the scent of something far worse than arrows and bolts. Boiling oil. The French were preparing to pour it over them. He reached the young soldier and after a moment's struggle managed to unhook him. They dropped to the ground and rolled away just as the oil splashed down the castle walls. Grabbing hold of the shield, Robin and Jimoen sprinted back to safety, bolts and arrows pelting the ground and the shield. More cheers greeted them when at last they ducked behind the barn door.
Jimoen sunk to the ground, gasping for breath. Robin grinned at Will and Allan, who smiled back at him.
They didn't have much time to rest, though. Somewhere in the distance someone barked an order. Robin and the other archers nocked arrows to their bows once more. This time, however, the arrows had been set afire. As one, the bowmen stepped out from behind the barn doors and fired at the hanging sacks of naphtha. A hundred flaming missiles carved across the sky and struck the bags. Naphtha began to wash down the doors, tendrils of flame spreading across the wood and licking at the bags, until suddenly all the bags exploded at once. In seconds, the blaze had engulfed the doors and was blackening the castle stone like dragon's breath.

CHAPTER

FOUR
     
A s night fell, dark, acrid smoke from the fires burning on the besieged castle drifted across the camp of the English army, mingling with the smells of cooking fires. King Richard's soldiers were in high spirits, even as they made preparations for the renewal of battle in the morning. Foot soldiers oiled and sharpened blades, bright sparks leaping from steel and stone. Archers restrung their bows, testing and adjusting the tension. Fletchers made new arrows. But all the while men talked and laughed. Some sang war songs.
     
Robin, as was his wont, had taken to gaming.
Will Scarlet was by the fire, stirring a pot of stew and eyeing Robin and his companions nervously. Allan sat nearby, tuning his lute. And Robin sat before a low makeshift table, facing a cluster of gamblers. The man sitting directly across from him had placed a meager bunch of carrots on the table next to Robin'sonions. The man's eyes were fixed on Robin's hands, as Robin moved three shells around, sliding a hidden pea from shell to shell. He had started slowly, as he always did—if he started too fast, his quarry would object and he would wind up with nothing. But by now his hands were moving so quickly that the man's eyes had begun to glaze.
Allan tinkered with his lute, but he was watching Robin's hands, too, smiling appreciatively. After a few moments, Robin stopped moving the shells and sat back, looking expectantly at the man before him.
The soldier hesitated, then chose the shell on the right. Robin flipped it over revealing … nothing.
The soldier groaned. Some of the other gamblers laughed; others shook their heads. “Next!” Robin called, as another soldier took the place of the man who'd lost.
Robin grinned at this new man, showed him the pea, and began to move the shells. Slowly, to start…
R OBERT L OXLEY SAT with the king outside his pavilion, a map of Northern France and Southern England spread before them,