Rowan Hood Returns Read Online Free PDF Page A

unfortunate tunic. But Ettarde wore the unlovely thing with the dignity of a true princess. From her pony’s saddle she scanned her uncle’s men with her usual tranquility.
    The captain bellowed, “Princess, I order you to—”
    Etty did not await her orders. Without a word she wheeled the pony and cantered out of sight over the hilltop.
    â€œTo horse!” roared the captain. “After her!”
    All the hands clutching Rowan fell away so suddenly that her arms felt curiously light, lifting like wings. She found herself standing alone while a great deal of crashing and rattling ensued in the hemlock grove to either side of her: the men-at-arms struggling to locate their concealed horses, untether them and mount them.
    From somewhere close at hand a low, gruff voice said, “Rowan, come on.”
    Rook?
    Dazedly Rowan glanced around, looking for him, but just then half a dozen men on horseback burst out of the hemlocks and galloped up the hill after Etty, with the shouting captain in the lead.
    The horses lunged, hooves clawing at the steep slope, spraying dirt and gravel. But once they got to the top... These steeds were far larger, longer of leg than the pony Etty rode.
    Marcus’s soldiers must not catch her!
    Do something.
    Rowan snatched for her bow.
    â€œCuckoo in your nest, get out of sight,” said the voice that sounded like Rook’s, although for him “cuckoo in your nest” was overspending of speech.
    Ignoring him, Rowan struggled to nock an arrow to the bowstring.
    A wolfish roar made her jump, dropping the arrow. Gawking, Rowan saw a large comet of gray-brown fur fly out from between the oaks at the top of the rise, cutting off the cavalcade, launching itself toothily at the first horse’s big pink nose.
    The horse shrieked and reared.
    â€œTykell!” Rowan screamed at the same time.
    Straight up in the air to save its tender nostrils, the horse dumped its rider, then fell over backward, almost on top of him. Belly floundering, hooves flailing, it struggled to regain its footing on the slope. The other horses swirled and plunged; their riders shouted, trying to control their mounts and at the same time draw their swords. Tykell lunged again—
    And Rowan saw no more, for someone very large and strong picked her up, bow and arrows and all, whisking her off in the opposite direction, into the cover of the hemlocks.
    â€œLionel, let me go!” Once before, when the Sheriff of Nottingham’s men had roped her arms to her sides, wrapping her like a bobbin, Rowan had been carried off bodily by Lionel, and that had been one time too many. “Tykell—”
    â€œYou know Ty can take care of himself.” Cradling her effortlessly in his arms, Lionel strode on.
    â€œPut me down!”
    Lionel merely lengthened his stride.
    But not in the right direction, Rowan thought. She squirmed, fighting his grip. “Where are you going? We have to help Etty.”
    â€œDolt, Etty’s helping you,” said Rook’s gritty voice from somewhere near Lionel’s elbow.
    â€œI’m right here,” said another voice, the dulcet voice of a princess. Without rustling so much as a single twig, Etty emerged from the brush to join them.

Five
    W hy, Ettarde, my dear little princess.“Lionel halted, set Rowan on her feet and gave Etty an exaggerated bow, sweeping off an imaginary hat to greet her. ”Fancy meeting you in such an out-of-the-way—”
    â€œHush, buffoon.” Not even bothering to scowl at Lionel, Etty instead gave Rowan her most placid smile. She still wore her oddly colored tunic, but what had become of her helm? Her brown hair streamed down around her shoulders.
    Rowan blinked and shook her head, feeling unsteady on her feet for some reason. “What’s going on?”
    â€œI jumped off Dove and gave Beau my helm,” Etty explained with quiet enjoyment. “She—”
    â€œKeep moving,”