plotting tree

The old tree bent and swayed in the wind, its branches creaking and moaning.  The moon was bright and full, and the air was brisk.  The conspirators met in the tree's shadow.

"I think they're on to us," one whispered hoarsely, "I keep seeing greencoats in the streets.  Everywhere I go, I see one, only one, looking as casual as possible."

"We might be under surveillance, but for our past arrests.  None of the material has been found and nobody has been questioned, even informally."

"But that could mean they're gathering evidence and just waiting for us to make a mistake.  If we continue with The Plan, we could fall right into their hands."

"We've gone too far to back out now.  Our allies are counting on us.  We have obligations!"

"Obligations?  Wasn't our fight about freedom?  How can I be freely obligated to our so-called allies?  They might send money, but they seem to have plenty to spare, so they are taking no real risk."

"We do need their money, and their presence here or shipments of the goods we require for the strike would indeed be a great risk to them.  And, by extension, to us."

"I still have my doubts about K.  He might show the face of a concerned supporter of liberty, but he has enough power to take over once this government's out of the way."

"But why would he?  Even if he has a mercenary-pretend adventurer side to him, this country's too poor to be of much interest in any financial sense."

Which is why I find his support suspicious.  Couldn't he have plans or information we are not aware of?"

"As much as I value your caution, I think we are all aware of the need to take risks for the cause as part of The Movement.  No risk, no reward, as they say."

"Who says that?  I don't think I quite agree.  We have already established that our allies are taking no such risks!"

The two conspirators argued for some time with the icy wind of the full-moon night rustling their collars and threatening to send an old, dead branch crashing down on their heads.  Finally a stray dog's howl shut them up and they both listened intently for more barks or the crash of booted feet through the underbrush.  Minutes passed and there was nothing.  They turned towards each other once again, but the tension had grown and both were nervous.

"We should end our meeting," said the first, "It grows late and the more time we spend in each other's company the greater the chances somebody will notice."

"Dear gods, who would be out wandering the woods at this hour?  Nobody who would care, or if they did, they would already know of our association.  But you are correct that it seems the moment to part; your paranoia grows tiresome, Lady Tardan."

"My paranoia, as you call it, has saved my skin more than once," muttered the first as they turned to go their separate ways, "Someday you'll wish you had my sense of danger, Affery."

The conspirators melted into the darkness of the night, leaving the tree alone with all its secrets.  The half-moon posed in its uppermost branches forming just enough background for a crow to make a sinister silhouette, looking down menacingly on any curious traveler who might venture a glance to the heavens.