Chapter 32
Kit
Ifelt Penny’s eyes on me the moment we hitched up the plow. Tucked away in the warm, dry barn, he was shielded from the ever-present mist that turned the field to a sucking mire and threatened to pull off the plow horse’s shoes with each step.
I resisted looking up at the open hay loft door, not wanting to draw Merrick’s attention to his half-brother’s presumed idleness when he’d spent several minutes grousing about it already.
He hadn’t liked my reasoning that plowing was a two-man job, and so there needn’t be anyone but us out in the foul weather.
He all but laughed when I said Penny’s time would be better spent showing Warren the other tasks that would need addressing while we handled planting.
Muttered under his breath about how lucky we were to be saddled with two bumbling idiots instead of just the one.
I had to bite my tongue to keep from rising to the provocation.
Merrick claimed the task of leading the stocky mare, which left me to walk behind.
The way he smirked made me think he found it to be some sort of slight or insult.
I was at least a little vindicated by his disappointment when I agreed without argument and took my place between the handles of the plow and motioned for him to go.
I settled into the work like I wasn’t seven years removed from the last time I’d plowed a field, and I felt the same sort of indirect pride in the work as I had back then.
That farm wasn’t mine, either, but I’d loved the man who owned it.
He’d been more of a father to me in a few short years than my real father ever had been, so I threw my all into ensuring the farm thrived under my hands.
Those fields had been promised to me, too, though that inheritance was ripped out from under me because I’d been too weak and scared to fight for it.
I wouldn’t let that happen again.
Penny had dreams for this place, and I would do whatever I could to make sure they were realized.
I would ensure our family was well cared for and lacked nothing.
I just hoped it was what Penny really wanted.
More than once he’d lamented that he wasn’t suited to walking behind a plow for the rest of his days.
I might have felt at home tilling these fields, but to him it was a chore, a burden, a yoke around his neck.
One more thing he felt he should excel at but never did.
The mare grunted as Merrick leaned against her bridle and tried to drag her down the next row. The mud sucked at her massive hooves and made her stumble.
“If you lame the damn thing,” I snapped as she caught and steadied herself, “it’ll be you pulling the plow tomorrow.”
Merrick yanked the horse to a stop and whipped around to face me. Without his ceremonial robes and severe starched collar, he didn’t look nearly as menacing as he did in Ashpoint. Here, he was just a man, same as the rest of us, which made his sneer as threatening as the snarl of a toothless dog.
“Why are you here, Kitingor?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” I said with a shrug. “Penny absolved you of any responsibility for this place. Why don’t you take the out and move on?”
“This is my home,” he hissed. “Penwell has no right to absolve me of it or anything else.”
Penny had every right, but that didn’t bear repeating now.
“But my question remains,” Merrick continued. “Why are you here?”
I spread my hands to indicate the plow and the field. “There’s work to be done.”
He rolled his eyes. “Don’t be dense. That isn’t what I mean.”
“What do you mean, then?”
“Why did you return to Ashpoint? What do you possibly hope to accomplish that you couldn’t manage thirteen years ago?”
It wasn’t what I expected him to ask. I leaned my hip against the stretchers between the handles of the plow and quirked a brow. “It was time to take my rightful place,” I said. “It was time to go home.”
“Home,” he scoffed. “You don’t believe that.”
The rain picked up, heavy drops chasing across the landscape and drowning out the mist. Rivulets of moisture traced a chilly trail down the middle of my back and made me shiver.
“What do you want me to say, Merrick? Because clearly you’re looking for a particular answer, so save us both the time and ask what you really want so we can be done with it.”
His green eyes looked sharp as flint in the muted light, and they bore into me with an intensity that made my skin itch. We might have been equals here, but he still had a power over me that I couldn’t shake.
“You visit the Right Hand with some frequency,” he said at length. “What about?”
I chuckled to mask my unease. I didn’t remember a single visit with Levitt where Merrick had been in his office across the hall, so someone else must have kept him apprised of my comings and goings.
Had they listened in and given the Shroud Warden those stolen details, too?
Or was he fishing for them now because they hadn’t?
“A man’s not allowed to spend time with his friends?” I asked. “Levitt and I grew up together. We’ve had a lot of catching up to do.”
“Social calls,” Merrick said flatly.
I shrugged and motioned for him to lead the mare on. “Should we have been talking about other things?”
His mouth twisted in a grimace as he yanked on the horse’s bridle to get her moving again.
I guided the plow in silence for several more rows, trying not to think about how aware Merrick might be of my plans with Levitt. I didn’t want to consider how much more he might be privy to than I expected.
The Right Hand was careful in all he did, but he’d been gauging the Death Watch’s support of his Shroud Warden for months now.
No matter how gently he approached the topic, Merrick still had support in enough places to make Levitt wary of making moves too soon.
Klaus at least had voted in support of Merrick’s latest accusations.
Had he been whispering in Merrick’s ear every time Levitt felt him out to see where his loyalties lay?
It felt so fragile, this thing Levitt and I were planning.
Delicate enough that a swift breeze might bring it all down around our ears.
But if Merrick knew any of the details of what we were planning, he wouldn’t have watched me so intently while he asked about it, doubtless hoping I would give something away.
I clung to that small comfort and forced my mind to the task at hand.
We were halfway through the field the next time Merrick jerked the horse to a stop.
He nearly toppled into the mud, curses hissing out between his gritted teeth as he hung on her bridle to steady himself.
His left boot was sunk ankle-deep in the soggy ground.
Despite his best efforts to yank his foot free, it didn’t budge.
I bit back a chuckle and averted my eyes.
My gaze swept across the rain-hazy landscape and settled on Penny’s silhouette in the shadows of the open hay loft door.
I could imagine his amusement at the scene playing out before me, which only made it harder to withhold my own, and I had to look away again.
When my gaze returned to Merrick, he was looking at me. He tracked my sightline to the hay loft, and his face crumpled in anger.
“It's a poor ruse,” he spat, “your supposed affection for my half-brother.”
The sudden assertion caught me so off guard that I couldn’t muster a response before he pressed on.
“You saw his worth in this farm, and you understood the favor it could buy you.” Merrick gestured at the house, the barn, and the fallow fields beyond a thin line of spindly trees.
“You wanted the bounty of this land because it would make you more valuable. Penwell may be easily wooed by your attentions, but I see right through you.”
His chest heaved with panting breaths, all impotent fury and indignation. The longer I watched him, the angrier he got until his face was splotched red and he looked ready to leap over the plow and shake me. Not that he could have done that with his foot still trapped in the mud.
“You know, I almost believed for a moment there that you cared,” I said finally. “That you were bothered by the thought of me taking advantage of Penny and not just mad that he is the rightful owner of the property you promised to Ashpoint.”
His lip curled, but I didn’t give him the satisfaction of getting a word in before I continued.
“But see, I know you too well. All your accusations are projections, Merrick. Every charge you’ve levied against me was simply an acknowledgment of your own crimes, and I’m not the only one who knows that.
” I ticked the names off my fingers. “Penny.
Levitt. The Death Watch. Your wife. You have more value to gain with this farm than I do. You have more to lose without it.
“You’re not bothered by the thought of me taking advantage of your half-brother. You’re terrified that everything you built, all that power you scraped and clawed for, is crumbling under you. That you can’t hide anymore that you are the one who’s been taking advantage here.”
Merrick’s jaw ticked as he ground his teeth. “Bold words from someone who has just as much to lose here should the truth come out.”
I was as acutely aware of how tenuous my position was with Penny’s mother now as I had been the afternoon before. As satisfying as it felt to get a few good digs in at Merrick, I should have been following my own advice and playing it safe.
“I don’t believe for a moment that you actually care for him,” Merrick continued, back to pulling at his trapped foot with irritation-fueled fervor. “He’s nothing more than a nuisance.”
The only nuisance currently on the Oliver farm was Merrick, but I couldn’t say that.
“Penny is a charming man. Kind, clever, and wonderfully earnest,” I said. “I tried not to care for him, but… here we are.”
Merrick’s boot came free of the mud with a wet squelch, and he staggered back while leveling a glare at me.