George Manville Fenn

“ I’m old and ugly, while you’re young and handsome, but somehow we have always seemed to be companions like, and whatever you wanted me to do I always did.”
“Yes, that you did, Serge,” cried Marcus, laughing.
“I don’t see nothing to laugh at, boy,” said the old soldier, bitterly, as he half drew Marcus’ blade from its scabbard, and then thrust it fiercely back with a sharp snap.
“No, but I do,” said Marcus, “sad as all this is. It seems so droll.”
“What does?” cried the man, fiercely.
“For you to talk about being old and ugly—you, such a big, strong, manly fellow as you are. ”

“ He gripped the boy sharply by the wrist as he spoke.
“Why, Serge, what do you mean?” cried the boy, wonderingly.
“Mean! Why, what have I been doing? Doesn’t he want you to grow up as one who hates fighting, and a lover of peace? And here have I been teaching you how to use the sword and spear and shield, making of you one who knows how to lead a phalanx to the fight—a man of war. What would he say if he knew?”
Marcus was silent.
“I have done wrong, boy,” continued the old soldier, “and some day he’ll find us out.” ”

“ I want to be leading the horses down through this wilderness of rocks so as to get away to the open land, where we can send them off at a gallop with the wind whistling about their ears. I want to see their manes and tails flying, Serge, and feel the chariot rock as the wheels spin round and bump over the hillocks and stones. Then on and on as fast as we can go, straight for the main army, to tear up to the guards with my message and bring them back. Oh, how slowly they move! Why doesn’t the chief hurry the men, and why doesn’t the enemy follow them at a rush? ”

“ As their chief spoke loudly, Marcus caught sight through the haze of snow which seemed to hold the darkness of night above, the head of a column of the foot soldiers making a steady advance, looking as if they were wearing a fresh form of decoration, every man’s helmet plume being increased in size by a trimming of the purest, whitest swans-down or filmy, flocculent silver itself. ”

“ Your duty, Serge, is here, and I leave Marcus in your charge. Now, no more save this: Rise up like my trusted servant. Duty calls me away, not only as a counsellor, but also as one of my country’s generals. Now help me with my armour, for I go forth to fight. There have been words enough. Take the example of my son. He feels the bitterness of being left behind as much as you. Now, quick! We have lost too much time already. Caius Julius awaits my coming, and my heart is burning to be free from all this suffering and mental pain. Marcus, my boy, help him. ”

“ You, Serge, lead one pony; I’ll lead the other, and we’ll walk them slowly towards the enemy away here to the left.”
“So as to let them think we have given up trying to escape, and are going to surrender?” said Serge, quickly. “Well done, boy! That’s just about what I was going to say.”
“Then,” continued Marcus, “when we have slowly walked the ponies as near to the enemy as we dare, resting them all the while, I’ll give the word to gallop off, and as the ponies are turned we two spring into the chariot as it passes, and we’ll tear away for liberty. No stopping this time, but use our spears.” ”

“ Go back, boy? To certain death!” cried the old soldier, fiercely. “It couldn’t be done if it was to save the finest dog in the world.”
“Oh, Serge!” cried Marcus, wildly.
“The message to Julius and your father, boy. We must not think of either ourselves or the dog at a time like this.”
“You are right, Serge,” said Marcus, bitterly. “But poor old Lupe!” he continued, as he held on to the side of the chariot with his left hand and gazed back. “He’ll kill no more wolves when they come down from the mountains over the wintry snow.” ”

“ The boy’s movement was quickly and excitedly performed, a feeling of dread having attacked him that the dog might have been frozen stiff; but at the touch the animal gave a cheery bark, bounded out of the car, and began to plough his way through the snow, at first after the fashion of a pig, and then by throwing himself down first on one side and then upon the other.
“I was half afraid, Serge,” said Marcus.
“You needn’t have been, boy,” replied the old soldier. “You see, Nature’s given him a warm, thick coat, and he makes it thicker whenever he likes by setting his bristles up on end.” ”

“ I know I am young and weak—Yes, I know, only a boy, but I shall grow strong, and it is not only to fight. I want to be there to help him. He might be sick or wounded. He says I must stay at home here, but I appeal to you. You can tell him how useful I could be. You will tell him, sir, for I feel that I ought not—that I cannot stay here and let him go alone.”
“Well spoken, my brave boy!” cried Caius Julius. “Spoken like a man! So you, young as you are, would go with us?”
“Yes, yes, of course,” cried Marcus, in his wild excitement, as he listened to this encouraging reception of his appeal. ”

“ Marcus planted his spear shaft sharply down upon the floor of the chariot to steady himself, as he leaned down to the driver to utter his commands, and the next minute the fiery little steeds were tearing away at full gallop along the open space, as if in their wild excitement they were eager to escape from the savage scenes and bloodshed going on around. ”

“ Well, our army has invaded the country of these Gallic tribes. The Gauls are no fools. They know Caius Julius has come to conquer them, and they don’t want to be conquered. Their idea is to invade Rome and conquer us. Well, my boy, we have come into their country, and every man who can fight has been called upon to come and fight against us, so that like a big crop in a cultivated land, what has been planted has come up all over. And this crop is fighting men with swords and spears. ”

“ I’m only a poor sort of labouring man here and servant, but I have been a soldier, and once a soldier always a soldier at heart, a man who thinks about his honour. Ah, you smile; and it does sound queer for a man dressed like this and handling a herdsman’s crook to talk about his honour; but inside he’s just the same man as wore the soldier’s armour and plumed helmet and marched in the ranks, erect and proud, ready to follow his general wherever he led. You wouldn’t think it strange for a proud-looking man like that to say his honour was touched.”
“No,” said Marcus, thoughtfully. ”

“ How beautiful it must be to throw oneself off the very top of a tree and go floating and gliding about just where one likes, with no books to study, nothing to write, only play about in the sunshine, covered with clothes of the softest down; no bother about a house to live in or a bed, but just when the sun goes down sing a bit about how pleasant life is as one sits on a twig, and then tuck one’s head under one’s wing, stick one’s feathers up till one looks like a ball, and go to sleep till the Sun rises again. ”

“ Cracis was silent for a few moments, and he sighed deeply as he laid his hand upon his son’s head.
“No, my boy; I must leave you behind. I am going to take part in a great struggle.”
“A great struggle, father? You don’t mean a war?”
“Yes, my boy, I do mean a war.”
“Oh!” exclaimed Marcus, and he turned sharply upon their visitor, looking the question he longed to put, while Caius Julius met his eyes and bowed in silence.
“You are too young,” said Cracis, slowly; “and now I want you to help me for the short time I am here making my preparations.” ”

“ Serge sheltered his eyes on the instant, and gave a satisfied nod.
“Right, captain,” he whispered; “but your force isn’t strong enough to surround the enemy. You must advance in line. It’s an ambuscade.”
The half-concealed figure was nearly a hundred yards away, and, by the time they had covered half the distance, Marcus’ keen young eyes sent a message to his brain, and he whispered to his companion in an awe-stricken voice:
“It’s that wounded man. He has lain down to die.”
The old soldier uttered a low grunt, and sheltered his eyes again. ”

“ The country ahead is in a state of war, and swarms with ruffians hanging about the heels of the army like wolves following a drove of sheep—worse, these, than the enemy. Boy, before many days had passed you’d be stripped of all your bravery, robbed for the sake of your weapons, and left dead or dying somewhere in the forest.”
“I can fight, sir,” said Marcus, proudly, “and my sword and spear are sharp.” ”

“ Those cries were auxiliaries, for they pierced the ears of those who attacked, making them turn in their surprise to find amongst them a fully-armed warrior whose arms flashed in the morning sun, as, advancing his shield ready for a blow, he darted his spear forward at another, who avoided the thrust by a backward leap, and, once started, dashed away as hard as they could go. Fighting men are prone to follow their leader, sometimes to victory, sometimes in panic flight. ”

“ Listen, boy; be ready, and when the rest of the chariots are moved off towards the upper part of the track along with the rest of the force, you will keep back amongst the rocks. I shall lead the men myself and make a feigned attack as if I were going to retreat back by the way we came; and in the excitement and confusion, when the enemy yonder have drawn off to go to their companions’ assistance and take me in the rear, you will watch your chance and escape.”
“Yes, I see,” cried Marcus, excitedly; and the captain went on:
“The chances are that if you are noticed no one will try to stop you. ”

“ For a few moments, as he watched the encounter in the bright morning light, Marcus was full of admiration for the brave and clever way in which, hemmed in though he was, the big warrior interposed his shield and turned off blow after blow. But all the same it was very evident that numbers would gain the day and some desperate thrust lay the poor fellow low.
Marcus’ thoughts passed very quickly in his excitement, and now another came like a question: You are in armour, with a good shield, a sharp sword and spear. ”

“ It seemed to be some long space of time, all horror and death, during which men fought and heaved and swayed, sometimes beaten back a few feet, then recovering themselves, regaining the lost ground, and pressing on, till in regular rhythmic pulsation rank after rank of warriors tramped on, opening out as they reached the group of dead and wounded men whose core was the spear-slain horse. ”

“ That fight was bitter and long sustained, and as the turmoil came echoing up the gorge to where Marcus and Serge were striving hard to master the difficulties before them and urge their willing little chariot horses on, the latter frowned as he rubbed his blue nose and responded to something Marcus had said.
“No, my lad,” he replied; “they’re not getting the better of our men, and they will not. We hear so much of what is going on because the sound comes up as if through a trumpet.” ”

“ So’s a soldier. Look here, boy; we are getting seasoned, and I’m proud to say that I am what a man’s officer would call a veteran, and that’s the finest title there is in an army. Then, too, look at our lad here. See what a splendid driver he’s turned out, and how he can send that chariot in and out among the rocks so close as almost to shave them, and right in between pairs of them where you or I would think there wasn’t room to pass. And then there’s the ponies! They are a bit thin, certainly, but they are as fine as bronze, and can gallop farther and better than ever. ”

“ And springing up, the old soldier took a few steps up and down like a sentry, before stopping short and going down on one knee, steadying himself the while by means of his spear, and bending over Marcus, who was sleeping heavily, his breath coming regularly as he lay there deaf to everything that was going on around, while the dog uttered a low whine and lifted his heavy tail slowly, to beat with it softly upon the ground. ”

“ At that moment the deadly wave of destruction was checked in its onward sweep by the rebound of a line of Roman veterans, the Gauls fell back, and the officer drew himself up panting and waving one arm on high, when a couple of officers rode up, one of whom dismounted and held his stirrup, when, without a word, the companion of Marcus in peril sprang upon the charger’s back and dashed forward, the late rider holding on by the mane. ”

“ Why, you know what a scrap of road there was where the captain halted his men.”
“Yes,” said Marcus; “just like a gash cut through the rock.”
“That’s right,” said the old soldier. “Well, a line of twenty men would have been sufficient to guard that bit.”
“More than enough,” said Marcus.
“Right, boy. Well, he has got six or seven hundred there, and no army that the enemy can bring up can drive our men from that stronghold. There are only two things that can master them.” ”

“ Tell him I am in a perilous strait, and that help must come to save me and give the enemy a lesson that they will not forget.”
“Yes—yes,” cried Marcus; “and I start at once?”
“Not yet, only be quite ready to dash off yonder by the lower track which you can see leading downward through those hills. I say dash off, but only if the enemy make for you. If you are not followed hasten slowly for your horses’ sake. Remember that he who goes softly goes far, and I want sureness more than speed.”
“But he can’t get out yonder, captain,” growled Serge, fiercely. “You are going to kill the boy.” ”

“ That’s how we conquered and made the fame of grand old Rome. Bah! What an old fool I am!” he cried, as he stamped the end of his crook down once more, “I forget I’m not a soldier now, boy, only Cracis’ man who tends his farm and keeps his swine.”
“Never mind, Serge; we are very nice and happy here. The place is so beautiful. Father likes you.”
“Bah! Not he! He only looks upon me as a slave.” ”

“ But not alone from the front; fainter, but minute by minute gathering strength, similar sounds came from the rear, telling plainly enough of the fight that was going on where the foot-men were holding back the advancing enemy during a steady retiring movement that could hardly be called a retreat.
“I don’t like this, boy,” whispered Serge, who was resting against the other side of the chariot.
“Are we being beaten, Serge?” asked Marcus.
“Oh, no, boy; they can’t beat us. But they have got us in this narrow gully where only a few men back and front can fight at once. ”

“ But the pass was opening more and more, and during the next few hours the progress of the little force had been slow but steady, the first rays of the sun shining upon the jaded men and horses halted in a sterile amphitheatre surrounded by rocks which afforded a fair amount of protection, Nature having formed the hollow with but one entrance and one exit, her instrument for carving out the depression having probably been a huge river of ice descending from the heights behind towards the plains below, of which glimpses now began to appear. ”

“ Lupe leaped out of the chariot, the driver involuntarily shook the reins to urge the ponies forward forgetful of the fact that they were held on either side, and the beautiful little animals tried to plunge onward, but feeling the check upon their bits, snorted and began to rear while both Marcus and Serge had to make a struggle to control the desire within their breasts which urged them to break forward into a run. ”

“ But now as they moved on towards the north and west, the pass they had entered and which wound or zig-zagged its way more into the mountain chain which divided the land of the Gauls from the Roman dominions, closed in more and more, beginning as a beautiful open valley and gradually changing its nature as it rose till it assumed the nature of a gorge or rift. ”