“Yes, boy, and I should be sorry for the one or two who tried to stop your way. But wolves hunt in packs, and can pull the bravest down. Are you heeding what I say?”
Marcus nodded. He could not speak, but stood gazing at Serge, who had taken off his helmet and with a face full of perplexity was vigorously scratching at his grizzled head.
“Well, boy,” continued the captain, “I have thought it over and I must do my duty, which is to send you back.”
“Oh!” cried Marcus, and throwing his spear sharply into his left hand he held out his right to Serge.
“But if I do that duty,” continued the captain, “it will be to expose you to greater risks amongst the marauders gathering everywhere now than if I take you with me.”
“And you will let me come?” cried Marcus.
“I am obliged to, boy,” said the captain, smiling, “for I can’t help feeling that Cracis, if we meet, would blame me more for doing my duty than for letting you come. Here, old man, you shall not tramp after our horse to come in weary and distressed at every halt. I’ll put the boy, as he is Cracis’ son, in one of the chariots, one of the light ones drawn by Thracian horses. There are several with their drivers yonder that I have not yet manned. You as his spearman may accompany him, of course. There, boy, no thanks,” continued the captain, sternly. “I have no time for more. Off with you to your place. One of my officers will see that all is right. What is that man? Away with you!” he shouted to the old crippled soldier, who had heard all and now hobbled forward to speak. But a couple of soldiers placed their spear shafts before him and drove him back.
But Marcus had seen, and sprang after him, dived under the spears and pressed a few coins into his hand before he was hurried away, babbling his thanks.
“I’d about given it up, Marcus, boy,” said Serge just then. “Here, come along; here’s a young captain waiting to show us where to go, and my word, talk about a piece of luck! I thought I was going to be taken away, never to see you again, and here we are. A chariot and pair with our own driver, and me to sit behind you and do nothing but tell you how to fight. Here, come along. Talk about a piece of luck! How old are you? Eighteen. Why, you’ll be a general at the end of another week!”