"Of course. How do you suppose we plan our attacks? How do you suppose we learn the things we must know, including enough of the language to be able to communicate with the people after the invasion? In the normal course of events I would have considered you an especially valuable find. The accessible ones have all been herders of animals or fishermen or primitive tribesmen or poor wanderers, who could not tell us much beyond their own language and their own calling."
"You mean," said Wyatt, "that if you hadn't decided to give me the warning instead, you'd have kidnapped me? Taken me—" he nodded at the window, "—out there? Or tried to?"
"Of course."
"Well," said Wyatt. "I'll be damned."
He was enraged, and more alarmed than ever. "Don't forget for a second that I've got this gun in your back."
"I'm not likely to," she said in a curiously calm voice. "How are you called?"
He told her.
"I am Brinna Halphard—Brinna the Dark, I think you would say."
It seemed a little ridiculous to say, How do you do? Wyatt grunted uneasily and asked, "Why the sudden friendliness?"
"I'm a soldier, and I know it is impossible to win every skirmish. I've learned to make the best of things."