The_Complete_Chronicles_of_Narnia_(volumes_1-7,_in_order_of_publication)

King Lune from their rear. The Calormenes are a little knot now, fighting back to back.
Your Tarkaan's down, Bree. Lune and Azrooh are fighting hand to hand; the King looks
like winning - the King is keeping it up well - the King has won. Azrooh's down. King
Edmund's down - no, he's up again: he's at it with Rabadash. They're fighting in the very
gate of the castle. Several Calormenes have surrendered. Darrin has killed Ilgamuth. I
can't see what's happened to Rabadash. I think he's dead, leaning against the castle wall,
but I don't know. Chlamash and King Edmund are still fighting but the battle is over
everywhere else. Chlamash has surrendered. The battle is over. The Calormenes are
utterly defeated."
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.
Shasta. picked himself up, feeling uncommonly stiff, and ran towards the sound to see
what the joke was. A very curious sight met his eyes. The unfortunate Rabadash appeared
to be suspended from the castle walls. His feet, which were about two feet from the
ground, were kicking wildly. His chain-shirt was somehow hitched up so that it was
horribly tight under the arms and came half way over his face. In fact he looked just as a
man looks if you catch him in the very act of getting into a stiff shirt that is a little too
small for him. As far as could be made out afterwards (and you may be sure the story was
well talked over for many a day) what happened was something like this. Early in the
battle one of the Giants had made an unsuccessful stamp at Rabadash with his spiked
boot: unsuccessful because it didn't crush Rabadash, which was what the Giant had
intended, but not quite useless because one of the spikes tore the chain mail, just as you
or I might tear an ordinary shirt. So Rabadash, by the time he encountered Edmund at the
gate, had a hole in the back of his hauberk. And when Edmund pressed him back nearer
and nearer to the wall, he jumped up on a mounting block and stood there raining down
blows on Edmund from above. But then, finding that this position, by raising him above
the heads of everyone else, made him a mark for every arrow from the Narnian bows, he
decided to jump down again. And he meant to look and sound - no doubt for a moment
he did look and sound - very grand and very dreadful as he jumped, crying, "The bolt of
Tash falls from above." But he had to jump sideways because the crowd in front of him
left him no landing place in that direction. And then, in the neatest way you could wish,
the tear in the back of his hauberk caught on a hook in the wall. (Ages ago this hook had
had a ring in it for tying horses to.) And there he found himself, like a piece of washing
hung up to dry, with everyone laughing at him.