"Clayton Emery - Robin & Marian - Floating Bread and Quicksilver" - читать интересную книгу автора (Emery Clayton)

fourteen named Madge.
Robin rowed, for he liked the feel of the waves
under the wooden blades, while Peter manned the
tiller and sheets for the triangular sail. Madge
watched from the bow. Other boats from Wigby had
put out, a dozen of them, and farther off bobbed
boats from other villages and towns: Aldbrough,
Patrington, Hedon, Grimsby. Peter occasionally
sheared by another boat, yelled a welcome or a
friendly insult, asked for news, passed on gossip.
Yet no one from Wigby mentioned that two brothers
were drowned and missing, that two families had
been wiped out.
After a time, Madge reported this spot might do.
Robin glanced over the side and gasped.
The boat floated on a sea of silver backs.
Herring jammed the water nose to tail, tight-packed
as if already in the barrel. Alike as leaves on a tree,
all were a foot long, mouths open and eyes like jet
targets.
With no sign of elation, Peter donned an oilskin
apron and unfolded the nets with an easy grace.
Robin helped, so clumsy he almost pitched overside.
Madge took the tiller and steered a lazy circle. In
minutes Robin felt the boat slow as the nets
dragged. Peter grunted to Madge, snapped at Robin,
then tilted inwards a tiny corner of a net.
A silvery cascade washed the bottom of the boat.
Fish boiled and roiled and flopped and flapped, some
so hard they flipped over the gunwale back to their
haven. In two hours of back-breaking,
fingernail-ripping, clothes-soaking labor, the tiny
crew made four more passes, hauling in nets until
the gunwales were awash and Robin Hood was
knee-deep in fish.
"S'enough," said Peter. He and Robin sat near the
bow to keep the nose down and prevent the stern
from foundering, while Madge turned her cheek to
the wind and aimed for home.
Yet the fisherman took no ease, but honed a knife
on a sea stone, handed it to Robin with a few terse
instructions. Robin Hood knew better how to dress
deer than clean fish, but managed to behead and
gut, yet keep the fillet intact along the spine for
hanging, all without losing fingers.
Always curious, Robin looked to expand his
knowledge. "How many trips will you make today,
Peter?"
Hands busy, the fisherman glanced instinctively at
the sky. Gulls followed them, soaring and banking,