“It came to my mind.”
She smiled with a kind of wonder in her eyes, and then a hint of irony. “Of course the plan was not yours—it was clearly Wyatt’s.”
“Another rebel’s,” observed Vytal, for the first time looking off across the water with a trace of abstraction in his face.
“Rebel? How mean you rebel?”
“Naught, but that it seems my fate to be at odds with the world.”
“For instance, to rebel against bear-baiting,” she suggested, glancing at him sideways. “I heard of that, and recognized the rebel from description.”
“Readily, madam, I doubt not. They called me a long, lean wolf, a grizzled terror, with the usual flattery.”
“Yes,” she said, nodding her hooded head and pursing her lips, “they did.”
“And very truly,” he averred.