Isaac and I stood ready by the corner, daggers and sheers in hand, ready to make a crimson mess of this immaculate garden, when Nizam halted us. It was a motion so brief and subtle, we would've ordinarily never seen it had we not been glued to his every action.
My brother stood up, and was now grinning. Talking animatedly, as though he was addressing a pair of long lost friends. The two, both of average height but with a prominent hooked nose and the other with a vertical scar across his forehead, even clapped him on the shoulder with fond smiles. Isaac and I were truly baffled, as we empowered our ears as subtly as we could to catch glimpses of the conversation.
Yet all we caught were the concluding dregs of the apparently very brief conversation.
"...Are we glad you've finally come. We were about to go searching for you lot had we not seen you in the next half hour or so." The man with the long hooked nose said in audible relief.
