When Shasta fell off his horse he gave himself up for lost. But horses， even in battle， tread on human beings very much less than you would suppose. After a very horrible ten minutes or so Shasta realized suddenly that there were no longer any horses stamping about in the immediate neighbourhood and that the noise （for there were still a good many noises going on） was no longer that of a battle.
He sat up and stared about him. Even he， little as he knew of battles， could soon see that the Archenlanders and Narnians had won. The only living Calormenes he could see were prisoners， the castle gates were wide open， and King Lune and King Edmund were shaking hands across the battering ram. From the circle of lords and warriors around them there arose a sound of breathless and excited， but obviously cheerful， conversation. And then， suddenly， it all united and swelled into a great roar of laughter.
