“They ride like the Walküre!” exclaimed the Goth.
They galloped on, breathlessly, but with uncanny noiselessness, past huts and isolated villas, trees and hedge-rows, till they reached the wooden bridge over the Almo, across which Magus led the way and the others followed. An interminable line of houses, standing out in silhouette against the western sky, here marked the line of the Via Appia. From thence it was only a few hundred paces to the Via Ardeatina.[60] Meanwhile the distance between the pursued and the pursuers had neither increased nor diminished perceptibly; only one of the city-prefect’s horsemen had left his comrades behind and gained upon them every minute. They were just crossing the Via Appia, when this man threw his spear and it passed close by the head of Herodianus’s horse. The beast shied on one side and reared; then it rushed on with increased swiftness after Magus and the Batavian.
Five or six minutes more slipped by. Neither of the fugitives now thought of depending in any way on the others; a glance backwards, a movement, might be fatal. The distance between the foremost horseman and his company might now be about two thousand paces, and he was close on the freedman’s heels. They had long since struck into the Via Ardeatina, and could not now be very far from the Oracle of the Faun,[61] where the road turned off that led to Lavinium and from thence to Laurentum[62] and Ostia. The soldier urged his horse with a desperate effort to overtake Herodianus, and drawing his sword he drove it up to the hilt into the Cappadocian’s flank. The horse fell as if struck by lightning, while Herodianus flew head foremost out of the saddle, and must have broken every bone in his body, if a hillock covered with soft turf had not lain in the way. The horseman, who could not at once check his pace, shot over the mound and some paces farther. This gave Herodianus time to pick himself up and draw his sword, and hardly had he got on his feet and made ready to defend himself, when the man sprang back upon him; desiring him to give up his sword and surrender.
“Not so fast!” said Herodianus, whose anger had risen as he got over the shock. “This hillock will serve for a fortress, and you may besiege me in it if you will.”
“Idiot!” shouted the man. “I give you one more chance; throw down your sword, or I will kill you.”
He put spurs to his horse, to take the mound at a leap and ride down Herodianus; but at this instant Aurelius appeared on the field, sword in hand. He was only just in time to save his worthy retainer, but he fell with such fury upon the mercenary that, after attempting a short defense, he hastened to withdraw; Aurelius had, however, given him a deep cut on the arm.
“Where is your horse?” asked he.
“There—by the ditch; the villain has killed it.”
“Come and mount behind me,” said Aurelius. “Hi! Magus—what are you doing?”
The Goth had dashed past with his bridle hanging loose.