“I myself, am Cabot the Minorian,” he said.
To which Crota added impressively: “The greatest magician of two worlds!”
The prisoner shook his head.
“I know of only one world,” he asserted, “and this man before me is dressed as a mere common soldier, as are all of you.”
“Know then, O scum of Poros,” the earth-man admonished, “that there are other worlds beyond the silver skies, and that in the world from which I come, all soldiers are gentlemen.”
But the Roy warrior was not to be subdued by language. “How did I come here?” he asked.
“You did not come here,” Myles answered. “You were brought. I brought you.”
“But how?”
“By magic.”
“What magic?”