This happened silently and swiftly, with none of the screaming and fumbling that marks the rare battles between Terrestrial women. Planter stared, half aghast and half admiring. Another girl whispered behind him: "Let them fight, send them ill days! Look at me, I am not ugly."
Perhaps to flee this new admirer, Planter threw himself between the two fighters. As Mara attempted to stab Sala, Planter caught her weapon wrist and wrenched the knife from her. Meanwhile, Sala snatched up a crossbow. Leaving Mara, Planter struck the thing out of aiming line just in time. The pen-missile tore through the baskety wall of the Nest, and Planter gained possession of the crossbow, not without trouble.
"Are you girls fighting over me?" he demanded.
"Egad, what else?" challenged Mantha, who had also sprung forward. "Art a man of height and presence. For any man these my manless girls would contend."
"Aye, would we," agreed one of the bevy, with frightening candor.
"He's mine," snapped Mara, holding her own crossbow at the ready. "Step forth who will, and I speak true."
"I'm nobody's," exploded Planter. "Anyway, I'm going—I've two friends near here that I've got to find, and soon!"
"More men!" ejaculated Sala, forgetting her anger.
"Fighters, with weapons," said Planter, ignoring her. "They'll help you smoke out these Skygors and set free your kinsmen."
Happy cries greeted his words.