Scimitars flashed at them, arrows struck upon their mail and the shields blazoned with the Death's-head D'Arcy crest.

Through it all they went unscathed, and while the army of the Saracens stared, at the foot of the Horn of Hattin turned their horses' heads straight for the royal standard of Saladin.

On they struggled, felling or riding down a foe at every stride.

On, still on, although Flame and Smoke bled from a score of wounds.
They were among the Mameluks, where their line was thin; by Heaven! they were through them, and riding straight at the well-known figure of the Sultan, mounted on his white horse with his young son and his emir, the prince Hassan, at his side.
"Saladin for you, Hassan for me," shouted Wulf.
Then they met, and all the host of Islam cried out in dismay as they saw the Commander of the Faithful and his horse borne to the earth before the last despairing charge of these mad Christian knights.

Another instant, and the Sultan was on his feet again, and a score of scimitars were striking at Godwin.