It was plain enough to hear: a confused rush of galloping hoofs away in front beyond the line of infantry, another thunder of galloping horses panting and snorting as they rushed by in the darkness close at hand, and another body away to Marcus’ left, beyond the second half of the line of chariots. This ceased directly afterwards, and, as the boy glanced back, he could see a mass of horsemen forming up behind the cars, while, at the same moment from away in front, there was a terrific burst of savage yells, answered by shouts of defiance and the clatter of spears and shields, mingled with a confused clash as the enemy’s horsemen charged home upon the infantry.
Marcus’ ears rang with the confusion of sounds which followed—cries of agony, shouts of triumph, and the trampling of horses, and then a roar, above which rang out somewhere near at hand the shrill note of a clarion, whose effect was to make the chariot horses burst into a gallop.
“Now we are off,” shouted Serge into the boy’s ear. “Your spear, lad. Throw when you get a chance; I have another ready for you. But don’t waste your stroke.”
Marcus heard, but he did not heed, for his heart was beating violently, his head swimming with excitement, and he felt half stunned, half maddened, as he was borne onward, his chariot about the middle of the little line so close together that, moment by moment, it seemed as if the wheels of the cars on either side must come into collision.
But the collision was not to be there, for as, excited by the yells of their drivers, the little pairs tore on, there suddenly seemed to spring up out of the darkness ahead a confused crowd of mounted men; and then there was a shock, and Marcus felt his car leap forward on its wheels, rising on one side as if to overturn, but coming down level directly and bounding oh again at the heels of his excited steeds.
He could not see to right or left, but he was conscious that there were other chariots tearing on beside him, and there was another shock, and another, mingled with yells and cries, and then they were racing on again apparently being hunted by a body of horse, and it seemed to the boy as if his and his fellow chariots were in full flight.
But just then there were the faint notes of a trumpet, and, as they tore on, the line of chariots swung round as upon a pivot and began to tear back.
And now it seemed to Marcus that the horsemen who had been pursuing them were taking flight in turn, and, as he realised this, the boy shouted to his driver to drive more swiftly.
“No, no!” yelled Serge, furiously. “Steady! Steady! And keep in line.”
“But they will get away!” cried the boy, mad now with excitement.