The Last of the Legions and Other Tales of Long AgoDoyle, Arthur Conan
General
The Last of the Legions and Other Tales of Long Ago
Doyle, Arthur Conan
Adventure stories, English; Historical fiction, English; Short stories, English
The whole vast expanse was covered with horsemen, hundreds and thousands
and tens of thousands, all riding slowly and in silence, out of the
unknown east. It was the multitudinous beat of their horses' hoofs
which caused that low throbbing in his ears. Some were so close to him
as he looked down upon them that he could see clearly their thin, wiry
horses, and the strange humped figures of their swarthy riders, sitting
forward on the withers, shapeless bundles, their short legs hanging
stirrupless, their bodies balanced as firmly as though they were part of
the beast. In those nearest he could see the bow and the quiver, the
long spear and the short sword, with the coiled lasso behind the rider,
which told that this was no helpless horde of wanderers, but a
formidable army upon the march. His eyes passed on from them and swept
further and further, but still to the very horizon, which quivered with
movement, there was no end to this monstrous cavalry. Already the
vanguard was far past the island of rock upon which he dwelt, and he
could now understand that in front of this vanguard were single scouts
who guided the course of the army, and that it was one of these whom he
had seen the evening before.
All day, held spell-bound by this wonderful sight, the hermit crouched
in the shadow of the rocks, and all day the sea of horsemen rolled
onward over the plain beneath. Simon had seen the swarming quays of
Alexandria, he had watched the mob which blocked the hippodrome of
Constantinople, yet never had he imagined such a multitude as now
defiled beneath his eyes, coming from that eastern skyline which had
been the end of his world. Sometimes the dense streams of horsemen were
broken by droves of brood-mares and foals, driven along by mounted
guards; sometimes there were herds of cattle; sometimes there were lines
of waggons with skin canopies above them; but then once more, after
every break, came the horsemen, the horsemen, the hundreds and the
thousands and the tens of thousands, slowly, ceaselessly, silently
drifting from the east to the west. The long day passed, the light
waned, and the shadows fell, but still the great broad stream was
flowing by.
But the night brought a new and even stranger sight. Simon had marked
bundles of faggots upon the backs of many of the led horses, and now he
saw their use. All over the great plain, red pin-points gleamed through
the darkness, which grew and brightened into flickering columns of
flame. So far as he could see both to east and west the fires extended,
until they were but points of light in the furthest distance. White
stars shone in the vast heavens above, red ones in the great plain
below. And from every side rose the low, confused murmur of voices, with
the lowing of oxen and the neighing of horses.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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