galloped together down from the hillock and between the armies that were forming up to march.
The solid mass of the Roman legion lay in the center of the great host, with the Assyrian spearmen and Napoleonic infantry on its right, and the Spartans and Northmen on its left. The cavalry formed two wings extending from either flank — the Arabs and Mongols forming one wing, and the Sioux and Crusaders the other.
Ethan raised his arm and waved it in signal.
"Forward!" he yelled, spurring ahead.
His cry was echoed by bellowing of Roman buccinas, braying of Mongol horns, fierce Sioux war-cries and silver blare of French bugles.
The plain quivered to the resounding thunder of thousands of feet and hooves trampling forward. The whole great host was moving west, horsemen in a trot, the footmen in a rapid march.
"Yippee!" yelled Hank Martin excitedly. "With this outfit, we'll clean up them Masters an' their soldiers like rollin' off a log."
"There are many thousands of the Luunians," warned Ptah. "And they'll have been warned of our coming by their horsemen who fled back to the city."
"We must concentrate on getting into the city and storming that fortress," Ethan declared tautly. "Chiri and John Crewe will be in there—if they still live."
"We'll tear the cursed place down stone by stone if we have to!" swore Lopez.
Dust arose in a great cloud as the trampling host moved onward. Mile after mile fell behind them, while Ethan's anxiety rose to fever pitch as he saw the red disk of the sun swinging ever higher.
"We're going to be too late!" Kim Idim cried, the old man's face deathly as he rode. "It lacks but an hour of noon—we shall never make it in time."
"We've got to," Ethan declared violently. "Chiri and John Crewe await death there—we must go faster."
Ptah shook his head. "The footmen cannot march faster than this. They would fall exhausted if they tried."
"Then I'm going to ride ahead to Luun with only the horsemen!" Ethan exclaimed desperately. "By riding hard, we can make it in time."
"You can't attack that great city with only a couple of thousand horse-men!" cried Ptah, aghast. "You'll be outnumbered by a hundred to one."
Maybe we can cut our way into the fortress," Ethan insisted. "Hank, you and Pedro will come with me—ride out now to our horsemen and tell them we're going ahead.
"Ptah, you and Swain and Kim Idim bring the footmen along as fast as you can. If we fail to get into the fortress, we may at least hold up that cursed Feast until you come up with our main forces."
Pedro Lopez and the trapper had ridden hastily to the wings. Now the four bands of horsemen began to forge forward on either side, as they galloped their steeds. They converged together in front of the main host.
Ethan spurred to the van of the gathered cavalry, and shouted back to them, using the Arabic, and Hank Martin repeated in the Indian tongue.
"We ride ahead to force the strong-hold of our enemy! Follow me!"
Wild Sioux war-whoop and fierce Mongol shout, deep Crusader battle-cry and fanatic Arabic yell, answered