Squaring
his shoulders, Moravin entered the darkened space. “Lord Lorn.”
“Sit,
Fenn. We are quite safe. My brother is with his new physician.” Lorn Makar
waved a slender hand at the second stone bench; ornate rings sparkled even in
this shadowy atmosphere. “I thought your son was joining us.”
Moravin
sat on the edge, a soldier prepared to spring into action at the slightest
provocation. “He will be here,” he stated, glancing to his left towards the
military entrance into the Gardens.
That
fortified ingress was situated a tier lower, beyond a muster courtyard; all he
saw from his vantage was the pretentious iron fence with a multitude of
clambering roses almost obscuring it. He preferred simplicity, but had to admit
the spikes now hidden in the busy foliage would unman an unwary intruder. The
Gardens hosted many defences, most not obvious at first glance.
“There
is hope for the king’s return to health?” he asked, a flutter of dread tickling
his gut. Their entire strategy relied on the king's illness.
Lorn
Makar sent him a heavy-lidded blue stare. “If there was such a hope we would
not now be meeting.” He lifted his gaze. “Ah, here comes our saintly priest.”
Careful
to maintain his schooled expression, Moravin sent a swift gaze behind him. Holi
Ker walked the same path through the shrubs he had just negotiated, but was, by
all appearances, far less concerned. Holi Ker wandered casually, his hands
clasped together in an attitude of piousness. Moravin snorted. The man was an
utter hypocrite.
“Greetings,”
Ker said in a soft tone as he joined them, bestowing upon them a small smile
each.
Lorn
straightened. “Let us get to it. You may inform your son after, Fenn; we cannot
wait longer.”
Moravin
inclined his head as Holi Ker sat decorously beside him, twitching his scarlet
robes into pleats of silken whispers. The sibilance set Moravin’s teeth to
clenching. These men had better have an ironclad plan to overthrow the King of
Makaran or he would have them killed. He trusted neither man. They would murder
him without a second thought also; there was no loyalty among traitors.
“By
the stars, Fenn, will you relax?” Holi Ker grumbled in his righteous voice. “No
Palace window overlooks the Pavilion and this region of the Garden is rarely
frequented. Folk are too aware the military are nearby and thus steer clear.”
Placing
his hands on his knees, Moravin said, “Gentlemen, what is your plan? I will
give you my oath if I believe it will work, for Makaran is at a crossroad in
time and we need the impetus of utter change to enter the future with strength.
We fail out there in the spaces because every battle is the same, as is every
expectation forthcoming from King Linus. We need something new, something strong
and something unassailable in order to alter how we are regarded by our
enemies. Do you have that something?”
No comments:
Post a Comment