ass of
confused native warriors. A picked group of sharpshooters remained
behind, in the concealment of the huts to pick off the warriors at the
edge of the battle with their sporadic fire.

The commander's lips were moving a little as he formed the
symbol-patterns of power almost unconsciously; a lifetime of habit had
burned them into his brain so deeply that he could form them
automatically while turning the thinking part of his mind to the
business at hand.

He soon found himself entirely surrounded by the alien warriors. Their
bronze weapons glittered in the sunlight as they tried to fight off the
onslaught of the invaders. And those same bronze weapons were sheared,
nicked, blunted, bent, and broken as they met the harder steel of the
commander's sword.

Then the unexpected happened. One of the warriors, braver than the rest,
made a grab for the commander's sword arm. At almost the same moment, a
warrior on the other side of the carrier aimed a spear thrust at his
side.

Either by itself would have been ineffectual. The spear clanged
harmlessly from the commander's armor, and the warrior who had attempted
to pull him from the carrier died before he could give much of a tug.
But the combination, plus the fact that the heavy armor was a little
unwieldy, overbalanced him. He toppled to the ground with a clash of
steel as he and the carrier parted company.

[Illustration]

Without a human hand at its controls, the carrier automatically moved
away from the mass of struggling fighters and came to a halt well away
from the battle.

The commander rolled as he hit and leaped to his feet, his sword moving
in flickering arcs around him. The natives had no knowledge of effective
swordplay. Like any barbarian, they conceived of a sword as a cutting
instrument rather than a thrusting one. They chopped with them, using
small shields to protect their bodies as they tried to hack the
commander to bits.

* * * * *

But the commander had no desire to become mincemeat just yet. Five of
the barbarians were coming at him, their swords raised for a downward
slash. The commander lunged forward with a straight stop-thrust aimed at
the groin of the nearest one. It came as a complete surprise to the
warrior, who doubled up in pain.

The commander had already withdrawn his blade and was attacking the
second as the first fell. He made another feint to the groin and then
changed the aim of his point