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?”