Ahead, a huddle of buildings came into view below the smoke-wisp.
Craig changed course a fraction.
The buildings showed clearer now—shanties straggling out behind a palisade, across a broad, hill-sheltered plain that sloped down gently to a river. For the first time, Craig could see people moving about.
He tilted the disc, coasting down towards the village in a long, looping arc.
But now those below glimpsed the saucer. A flurry of excitement flared. Fingers pointed. Men ran towards the largest of the buildings.
But not for shelter. For suddenly they were back again, out in the open, carrying discs. In seconds a whole company had taken to the air.
Craig banked sharply as they raced towards him.
But a fierce cry rang out from above him. He jerked around just in time to see a host of other discs slashing down out of the blue.
Then one peeled off, lanced closer. Craig glimpsed a lean, half-naked body ... bared teeth ... a fierce bronzed face.
The rider's arm snaked out. A long black whip flicked towards Craig. Before he could move, the lash twined about his upflung wrist.