Marcus: the Young Centurion Part 36

"Serge!" cried Marcus, fiercely. "How dare you! Captain, don't heed him; I am ready to go the moment you say the word, and--and--"

"Well, boy?"

"If I am killed," continued Marcus, struggling hard with his emotion, "and you ever see my father again, tell him, sir, that I went to my death doing my duty, as he taught me, and praying that he will forgive me for disobeying his commands."

"I will, boy," cried the chief, warmly; "but it shall not come to that, for you will reach your father, I feel sure, and bring me the help I need."

"He can't, captain, I tell you," cried Serge, fiercely. "Yes, you may punish me, a common soldier, for speaking as I do, but I tell you once again that I will not stand by and see my dear old master's son butchered, for it's nothing else. A boy like him, brave as he is, ought not to be sent, even if it is for his country's sake, when there are plenty of stout, strong men who could do the work as well or better, because they are hard and tough."

"Be silent, Serge," cried Marcus, pa.s.sionately. "Don't punish him, captain; he means well, but he is half mad to speak to you like that."

"You need not appeal, my boy," said the captain, smiling. "I should punish no man for being brave and true to those he has served."

"But I tell you, captain," raged out Serge, "that it would be like murder to send the boy like that."

"Silence, old madman," cried the captain. "Why, I should be as mad as you even to think of doing such a thing. 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' a.s.sistance 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.

It will be thought that you are deserting and seeking your safety in flight."

"Yes, yes," cried Marcus; "and now I shall be sure to succeed."

"Yes, captain, that's better," growled Serge, in his deepest tones. "I like that."

"Then take good heed to his safety, man," cried the captain, warmly, "and die for him if there is need, for I would rather lose a hundred men such as you than one like him."

"But--but--" stammered Serge, "you don't mean--"

"I don't mean!" cried the captain. "Why, the boy is right: you are an old madman to think that I would send that brave boy alone when he has such a faithful old follower as you at his side. No, no; go with him, and bring him back safely to me, along with the help I ask, or never see my face again."

Before he had finished, rough old Serge, with the big tears standing in his eyes, was down upon one knee catching at the leader's hand and carrying it to his lips.

"There, there, there," cried the captain, "time is precious. No more of this. Boy, you have the safety of this force in your hands. Old veteran, I give you charge as bodyguard of this, my young despatch bearer. I do not tell you to do your duty, both of you; I only say, remember Rome. Farewell."

The captain turned quickly away to join a knot of his chiefs who were anxiously awaiting his return, and the next minute, fixed in their positions, neither feeling as if he had the power to stir, Marcus and Serge were alone.

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

THE FIGHT BEGUN.

Marcus was the first to break the silence.

"Serge," he panted, "isn't he grand!"

"Grand!" cried the old soldier, excitedly. "Grand arn't half big enough. He's a hero, that's what he is; and only think of me with a head like the old bull at home. Just as thick and stupid. Why, if he hadn't been such a great, wise, clever general as he is, he'd have knocked me down with the hilt of his sword. But it's all right after all, and look here, boy, you've got to do it."

"We've got to do it, Serge," cried Marcus. "Why, the idea is splendid; but I say--Lupe?"

"What about him?"

"What are we to do with him?"

"Nothing," said Serge, promptly; "he'll do for himself. Why, if you made up your mind to leave him behind he'd come."

"I suppose so, Serge. There's no press-house here in which to shut him up."

"No, and there's no other way of getting rid of him but cutting off his head," said the old soldier, grimly; "and you wouldn't like to do that."

"Serge!" cried Marcus, taking for the moment his companion's words as being meant seriously.

"Ah, I thought you wouldn't, boy," said the old fellow, smiling. "He'll hop into the chariot, of course, and when the way's clear we can let him down for a run, and do him good. But no more talking; we've got to get ready."

"No," said Marcus; "we're soldiers, and all ready now. I can see nothing to do but wait till we see that it is time to go."

"And that isn't far away," said Serge, "for here comes back one of the captains. Why, Marcus, boy, I feel happy enough to begin to dance.

Just think of it: here we are off on quite a holiday, straight away for the Roman camp, to get to your father at once, and--Oh, my thick head!

I never thought of that!"

"Thought of what?" said Marcus.

"What we're going to do: both of us going straight to face the lion and put our heads into his mouth."

"You mean my father?"

"Of course."

"Nonsense! He will have no time to think of punishing us."

"Won't he?" growled Serge. "Trust the master for ever forgetting anything. We shall have it, and sharply too, after him and Julius have come and done what they've got to do in the way they know how."

"Pst! Don't talk," whispered Marcus. "Look, this officer is giving his orders to the leaders of the chariots, and here he comes to us."

The boy was right, for a few minutes later the officer came quickly to him, and his words were very short.

"You have your orders from the chief, young man?" he said. "Stand fast there among these rocks till the line of chariots has moved off, and then go down to the lower camp where the foot soldiers are as soon as they have changed their station."

He turned away directly, and as their driver sprang up, quite on the alert as he saw that something was on the way, Marcus went to one pony, Serge to the other, to see that every portion of the harness was in proper trim; and Lupe leaped out of the chariot and then back to the front, to raise himself upon his hind legs and plant his paws on the front as if he were in command and issuing his orders, which took the form of a deep bay.

Directly after a sub-officer, who was in command of the line, gave an order, each chariot was manned, and following one another in file they began rattling and b.u.mping in and out amongst the rocks and hollows, slowly and noisily in the direction of the highest point of the pa.s.s from which the way had been fought so short a time before.

"Look yonder, Serge," cried Marcus, as he gazed beyond the outposts in the direction of the hills that were dotted with the enemy.

"Was looking, boy," growled the old soldier, "It's running all round us wherever the enemy can see. Why, it's like putting a stick into a wasp's nest and giving it a stir round."

"Yes, look, look, look!" cried Marcus. "What an excitement! Does it mean that they are going to attack at once? Because if they are we shan't get off."