Flame roared from Kimball Trent's gun, and the iron shaft of the blond giant's spear melted and dripped in splattering white-hot globules where the energy touched. Low cries of fear whirled from the other two men, and the blond stared stupidly at his useless spear, dropped it as the heat crept along the haft. He stared at Trent, and no fear was in his eyes; only a growing respect and hate. "Traitor!" he snarled, came driving in. Trent went spinning to one side, slipping in the way that all army men were trained, then chopped with a cool calculating skill at the base of the giant's neck with the pistol butt. The giant dropped inertly, and Kimball Trent faced Lura and the spearmen again. "One!" he said grimly. "The next to attack me dies. Now take me to the Elder." There was a shadow in the doorway that materialized into the figure of a man. "I am the Elder, Barb," he said. "Who are you?" He was tall, the loose robe hanging straight from lean shoulders, his thin features stern as he gazed at the scene. His hands were empty, yet they gave a sense of power to him, for the fingers were long and tapering, the palms broad. He watched Trent quietly through eyes that gave the uncanny impression of seeing much and retaining all. He stepped from the doorway, stood waiting quietly, pale eyes appraising the man from the past, features tightening in puzzled memory, as though he was trying to recall someone he had seen before. "He is a spy, Elder," Lura cried. "He appeared from nowhere, _overcame a Master_, and slew a brok. He carries weapons such as only the Masters have--and he has a double name." "My name is Trent, Kimball Trent," Trent said evenly. "I was searching for anyone alive--" The blond giant stirred at his feet, moaned, then came groggily to his feet. He blinked dazed eyes, saw Trent, instantly fell to a half-crouch, hands knotting into blocky fists. "Enough, Korm," the Elder snapped, and the giant relaxed. The tension was easing now, dispersed by the calmness of the Elder. Quietly, Trent holstered his flame gun, then crossed his arms, stood quietly waiting for the old man to speak. "I have seen you somewhere before," the Elder said, "and your double name is familiar in the depths of my mind." His voice changed subtly, grew desperately grim. "What do you here?" he finished. "Let us talk somewhere else," Trent said. "I shall be glad to tell my story then." The Elder nodded, turned and stepped through the door. Kimball Trent followed, the remaining four coming directly after. The blond giant touched a stud on the wall, and the door came softly closed, mantling all with sable darkness.