Leonidas’s spear pointed to the ivory throne, around which and him that sat thereon in blue and scarlet glittered the Persian grandees.
“Onward!”
Immortal ichor seemed in the veins of every Greek. They burst into one shout.
“The king! The king!”
A roar from countless drums, horns, and atabals answered from the Barbarians, as across the narrow plain-land charged the three hundred—and one.
CHAPTER XXII
MARDONIUS GIVES A PROMISE
“Ugh—the dogs died hard, but they are dead,” grunted Xerxes, still shivering on the ivory throne. The battle had raged disagreeably close to him.