Harold Lamb

“ Stung by the flying steel, the shaggy ponies of the Mongols began to rear and plunge before the first line crashed against the spears and shield of the Georgians. Still the arrows whistled. Hugh heard the clash of armor when men dropped near him, heard the oaths of their comrades who pressed on, heedless of hurt, with the single thought of closing with the horsemen. ”

“ He forced the weapon from her hand, thrust it into its scabbard, glanced from the raging girl to the crusader.
“Nay, little Rusudan,” he said smiling, “there will be blows enough struck this day. Nor will I permit you to go forward into peril. See, the pagans give way before our horse.”
The onset of the Circassians—daring riders, loving well just such a charge as this—had carried them into the retreating squadrons of the Horde. Only Hugh noticed that no arrow flights greeted the constable's cavalry and that the Mongols scattered to the sides rather than fled ahead. ”

“ A chieftain had come up to him, a bearded Circassian who checked his steed with a jangle of bit-chains and thudding of hoofs and pointed down the valley beseechingly. The wild horsemen, held in restraint, were growing resentful of inaction, and the Circassian crâl had come to beg for leave to charge. ”