Marcus: the Young Centurion

by George Manville Fenn

  CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

  IN THE TRACK OF AN ARMY.

  It was not easy to quiet down the half wild steeds. They had been goingthrough a long period of inaction since the fierce charge made on thenight of the encounter before crossing the snowy pass, and once theirdriver had, to use the horsey phrase, given them their heads, and urgedthem on to their top speed, their hot, wild blood had been bubblingthrough their veins, making them snort and tear along heedless of rock,rut, and the roughest ground. Marcus had told the driver to check themtwice over, but as soon as Lupe was in the chariot and both Marcus andSerge busy seeing to his wound, the speed began to increase, till thechariot was bumping over the open plain faster than ever; and though thecharioteer strove his best it was some time before he managed to get hislittle pair into hand again so that the pace grew moderate and theprogress was made at a gentle canter, instead of a wild gallop whichthreatened wreck over some projecting stone.

  "They were half mad with excitement," cried Marcus, who was breathinghard.

  "Yes," grunted Serge. "I thought we were going to be upset over andover again. Feel a bit frightened, boy?"

  "Frightened?" said Marcus, looking wonderingly at his companion. "No!I liked it. Why, it was glorious to rush over the plain like that."

  "Wouldn't have been very glorious if one wheel had come bump against astone, flown all to pieces, and we two had gone flying one way and thechariot the other."

  "No," said Marcus, laughing; "but that wheel did not, and we are all asright as can be, with the enemy left behind."

  "Yes, that's all very true, boy," said Serge, who was pressing hishelmet a little farther back and holding it there so that he could get agood uninterrupted look all round.

  "You didn't like it, then?" said Marcus, smiling at his companion'sperplexed expression.

  "Course I didn't," growled Serge.

  "Lupe did. Just look at him. He has curled himself up to go to sleep.That's a good sign, isn't it, that he is not badly hurt?"

  "Yes, he's not going to be bad," said Serge, without so much as a glanceat the sleeping animal. "Dogs always do curl up when they are hurt;"and he kept on staring anxiously ahead.

  "What are you looking for, Serge? More enemies?" asked Marcus.

  "No," replied the old soldier, though it was more like a grunt than areply.

  "What are you watching for, then? Not stones? It's getting smoother,and we're going on at a nice steady rate now."

  "Yes, boy, we're going along at a nice steady rate, but I want to knowwhere to?"

  "Where to?" cried Marcus, quickly. "Why, to find the main army, anddeliver the message."

  "Yes, boy," growled the old soldier; "but where is the main army?"

  Marcus stared at his companion for a few moments in completeastonishment, before gazing straight in front between the tossing manesof the cantering ponies, and then looked to right and left.

  "I don't know," he said, at last. "Somewhere in front, I suppose."

  "Somewhere in front, you suppose!" grumbled Serge. "But where's that?Nowhere, I say. We shall never come up with them if we go on like this.We may be getting farther away at every stride."

  "Oh, Serge!" cried the boy, excitedly.

  "And it's O, Marcus!" growled the old fellow, sourly.

  "What's to be done Serge?" cried the boy, despairingly. "Why, we may belosing time."

  "Most likely," said Serge.

  "And I was thinking that in flying along as we have been we were gettingnearer and nearer to the army. Now, then, what is to be done?"

  Serge was silent for a few moments, and then said slowly:

  "Well, boy, it seems to me that the best thing we can do is to bear offto the right."

  "But that may take us wrong," said Marcus, excitedly. "Why not go tothe left?"

  "Humph!" grunted Serge. "Because that may take us wrong, boy. You see,there's a lot of chance in it, and we must use our brains."

  "Of course. That's what I'm trying to do, Serge."

  "Don't seem like it, boy. We've got to track the army, haven't we?"

  "Yes," cried Marcus, "but they've left no traces."

  "Not that we have found as yet, boy, but they must have left somewounded men, or sick, belonging to the army or the enemy. If they'refighting their way, as is most likely, we may be sure that a good manymen have fallen."

  "Yes, that's reasonable enough, Serge, but we have seen no signs ofone."

  "Not one," said the old soldier. "So as there have been no traces, wemust go by guesswork, mustn't we?"

  "Yes, of course," cried Marcus. "Well, you guessed and I guessed, and Ithink my guess will be the better one."

  "I know you do; but I don't, boy."

  "Why?"

  "Because there's no reason in yours and there is in mine."

  "I can't see that," said Marcus, stubbornly. "Show me how your way canbe better than mine."

  "That's soon done, boy," said Serge. "Caius Julius will have a big armywith him, won't he?"

  "Yes, of course; a very large one."

  "With plenty of mounted soldiers and chariots."

  "Yes," said Marcus.

  "Well, would he pick out the roughest part of the country all among therocks, like you have, or the lower and more even way like mine?"

  "You are right and I'm wrong, Serge," cried Marcus, frankly. "Let's goyour way."

  The old soldier nodded, the order was given, and the driver turned hishorses' heads more to the right; but before they had gone far Marcuscaught his companion by the arm.

  "But suppose, Serge, that the army did not come this way at all? We donot know that it did."

  "How's that?" asked the old soldier.

  "Why, it might have gone by some other way."

  "Which?" growled Serge.

  "Oh, I don't know," replied the boy. "There must be plenty of waysthrough the mountains by which an army could go."

  "No, there mustn't, and there arn't, without you go a long journeyround, and that a general is not likely to do. Passes through themountains are a long way apart; and besides, of course our new captainknew the way that Caius Julius was going, and this is the way he meantto follow if he had come on."

  "Are you sure?" said the boy, doubtingly.

  "Certain, my lad, or I wouldn't go this way."

  Serge had struck for the right, and he proved to be right indeed, forbefore an hour had passed the adventurers had good proof, the oldsoldier suddenly giving vent to a grunt of satisfaction.

  "What is it, Serge?" cried Marcus, eagerly, seeing that the old man wassmiling.

  "I'm right," he said.

  "What! Can you see anything?"

  "Yes; look yonder, boy."

  Marcus gazed in the direction the old man pointed, carefully scanningthe distance, but seeing nothing save the undulating stony plain withhere and there a stunted tree, and in one part a depression like an oldriver bed.

  "Well," he said; at last; "I can see nothing."

  "Not looking right," said Serge.

  "I've looked right and left, and down that hollow too," said Marcus.

  "That's what I say. You haven't looked right up. Look up."

  "Up?" cried Marcus, who felt puzzled. "I do wish you would speak.There is nothing to see there but those crows circling slowly round andround."

  "That's right," grunted Serge; "you have seen what I mean."

  "What, the crows?"

  Serge grunted, and Marcus stared.

  "I don't know a bit what you mean," said Marcus, irritably. "Don't,pray don't, waste time."

  "I'm not wasting time. I say we're on the right track, boy. Look atthe crows."

  "What for?" cried Marcus, angrily.

  "What for?" growled Serge. "S'pose you and me was at home and were outamong the pastures and up the lowest slopes of the mountains where wedrive the goats."

  "Well, what then?" cried Marcus, impatiently.

  "And suppose we saw crows flying round and round. What would you say
then?"

  "That there was a dead lamb or a kid lying somewhere about, or that thewolves had been down and killed a sheep."

  "Well?" said Serge, with a dry look on his wrinkled face.

  Marcus was silent for a few moments, and then, "Oh, Serge," he cried,with a look of horror, "you don't think--"

  "Yes, I do, boy. Nay, I feel sure. There's been a big fight yonderwhere those crows are flying about."

  "Yes: I see," cried Marcus. "But--but which side has won?"

  "Ah, that we are going to see, my boy, and before long too. Turn a bitmore to the right, my man," he continued, laying his hand upon thedriver's shoulder, and their direction was a trifle altered, with theresult that before long they were passing by the side of a portion ofthe plain where it was evident that a desperate encounter had takenplace from the large number of ghastly relics of the engagement that layscattered about, spread over the space of quite a mile.

  The scene was passed in silence, Marcus pressing their driver to urge onthe ponies till they were well ahead, after grasping the fact that astubborn stand must have been made, and that the action had beencontinued onward to where they stood.

  "Well," said Serge, "you see all clearly enough now, don't you, boy?"

  "I'm not quite sure," said Marcus, thoughtfully, "though I think ourarmy must have won the day."

  "There's no doubt about that, boy, and in such a fight as it has beenthey could not help losing heavily; but I haven't seen the body and armsof a single Roman soldier, and that is a sure sign that they won theday, and then stopped to carry away their wounded and bury their dead."

  Marcus shuddered, and they rode on for a time in silence, passing hereand there a little mound, and as soon as they had cleared one the oldsoldier swept the distance with his eyes in search of another.

  Marcus looked at him questioningly.

  "Yes, boy," said the old fellow, softly; "an ugly way of tracking ourroad, but a sure. Those hillocks show where they've laid some of ourpoor fellows who fell out to lie down and die, and there their comradesfound them."

  "War is very horrible," said Marcus, after a pause.

  "Well, yes," replied Serge, "I suppose it is; but soldiers think it'svery glorious, and as a man's officers say it is, why, I suppose they'reright. But there; that's not for us to think about. It's not horriblefor our Roman soldiers to stop and bury their slain, and their doingthis has made it easy for us to follow the track of the army."

  "Yes," said Marcus, who was gazing straight before him; "and lookthere."

  Serge shaded his eyes, and gazed in the direction pointed out.

  "Yes," he said, "that's another sign-post to show us our way, and I daresay we shall come upon some more, ready to prove that we are on theright track. The crows seem to have been pretty busy there, boy."

  "The crows and the ants," said Marcus.

  "Yes, and maybe the wolves have been down from the mountains to havetheir turn."

  "Whoever would think, Serge, that those scattered white bones had onceformed a beautiful horse, just such a one as these we have in thechariot?"

  "Ah, who indeed?" replied the old soldier. "But I don't know that wewant to think about it, boy. Let's think about your message and gettingon to deliver it. We must make the best of our way while the lightlasts, so as to get on as far as we can, as we know now that we're goingright. I should like to get down to some hilly or mountainous hit."

  "What for, Serge?"

  "To climb up when it's dark."

  "Because you think it will be safe to sleep there?"

  "No, boy; I was not thinking of sleeping till we get our messagedelivered. I was wondering whether we should be lucky enough to get sofar that after dark, if we climbed up high enough, we might be able tosee our people's watch fires twinkling like stars in the distance."

  "Oh, Serge, that would be capital!" cried Marcus, excitedly. "Do youthink we shall be so fortunate?"

  "Don't know, boy," growled the old soldier; "but hurry the ponies alongwhile we can see that we are on the right track. There's no reason whywe shouldn't be fortunate."

  "Oh, we must be, Serge," cried Marcus. "It's horrible to think of ourgeneral and all his men shut up in that bitter snowy pass, fighting hardfor life, and always watching for the help that does not come.Forward!" shouted the boy, and at his word the driver seemed to make thehorses fly.