e dissimilar. The one of greater skill was dark
and possessed of a cruel mouth and venomous dark eyes. The other was
slim and fair with contemptuous blue eyes. He fought with an erect
stiffness in his shoulders which was both awkward and dignified at the
same time.

The sympathy of Bram Forest went out instinctively to the fair one but
the dark, sinister swordsman held his attention. There was something
naggingly familiar about the dark one's cruel face. A tantalizing
familiarity that bemused Bram Forest even as the singing swords
thrust and parried with that of the dark warrior always on the
offensive and the other fighter striving more for self-preservation
than for aggressiveness.

Where, Bram Forest wondered, had he seen the dark one before? Nowhere,
of course. Any previous contact was impossible. Or was it? Dared he,
Bram Forest, call anything impossible after what had already occurred?

Bram Forest glanced down and realized he had been removing the disc
from his left wrist and placing it on his right. He had committed the
act instinctively, in the same manner he breathed and moved and his
mind went back momentarily to the two tubes he had found in his ears
when he awoke in the cavern back on Earth.

Back on Earth? How did he know he was not still on that planet? I've
got to stop questioning these things I possess knowledge of but know
not why. I must take them at face value and without wonder. Otherwise
I shall spend all my years in conflict with my own mind.

At that moment, the dark warrior's whip-sword whined in a skillful arc
and entered the body of the fair one. A moan of sympathy arose from
the waiting group as the defeated warrior sank to the ground, his face
strained in agony and fast becoming a death-mask.

The dark warrior stepped back, a cruel sneer of satisfaction gleaming
in his eyes. Bram Forest, sickened by the unequal contest rose up from
where he lay and moved forward. This drew the attention of both the
group and the victorious warrior and the effect was electric.

The huddled observers reacted with a mixture of consternation, awe,
and fear that would have been comic under less tense circumstances.
They dropped as one to their knees. They placed their foreheads upon
the ground. A concerted moan escaped them that far transcended in
depth and feeling the one with which they had reacted to the death of
the fair warrior.

* * * * *

In a language Bram Forest