Bittie MacLeod, carrying a blastrifle as tall as himself, followed along behind Sir Jonnie into the main Brigante encampment.
Sir Jonnie had sent him back twice, but wasn’t the proper place of a squire to follow his knight with his weapons into a place of danger?
And Bittie admitted to himself that it did look dangerous! There must be twenty-five hundred or three thousand of these people scattered around this clearing deep in the forest.
They had landed at the top edge of the open space. The prisoners—ooh, how they had stunk up the ship!—had been held in a lump in the big marine-attack plane, well separated from their weapons, and when they landed, the prisoners had been put on the ground first. Then Sir Robert had looked over the place and made some defense dispositions to cover their
