Thanks for all the support! Hope y'all are doing well! Gotta run! *mad dash into the pits of hell*


CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

~ There is no way that he is a Kenway ~

Finally, with only 5 (actually now 4) days left before the mission began. It was fool proof but also emotional explosion proof. Connor and Meryl sat in her room, actually in the dead of the night to make sure nobody overheard them.

It was an interesting experience. It was extremely civil and polite, a perfect diplomatic discourse between two level-headed people that had been at war with each other ever since they met. Meryl considered this interaction a score and success in her relationship with Connor, whether Connor felt that way was difficult to tell. He remained calm and collected throughout.

In the silence of the crackling of flames in the fire place. Connor sighed and got up from his seat and spun the seat around back in its original spot.

"We have still 5 more days –

-You mean 4 since its already early morning."

"Yes, 4 days to make the remaining preparations."

He eyed Meryl from head to toe.

"You need appropriate attires."

"So do you Connor."

He tightened his lips.

"We will have to consult Ingrid or Marie."

"Are they on this?"

Connor shook his head.

"I think they should Connor, just in case the plan falls through."

"It won't." He repeated with conviction.

"Okay, it won't but I still think they should know some of it."

Connor sighed.

"Fine. I will explain to them, just Ingrid and Marie."

"Good. I am happy we agreed on something." She supplied with a grin which made Connor's frown deepen.

Before he walked to the door, he gave Kazuma who was curled near the fire place a nice rub. Kazuma gave him a nudge of his nose and a lick of approval then returned his head back on his folded front paws and closed his eyes.

"This morning and the next days I need to do some errands around the dock and the Homestead," Connor announced as he made his way to the door. "The night before we should meet again. I ask you to have all necessary preparations accomplished, from your attire to the theatricals, when I return."

"No problem."

When he grasped the door handle, Meryl called him as a persistent thought finally reached the surface. She got up from the seat, stretched her back and rolled her neck. She eyed him with a sudden gravity that Connor immediately noticed as he halted in his movements and looked at her.

"Will you guys ever tell me who you and Achilles are and what you do?"

There was a pause as he watched her with his typical aloof gait, yet his eyes had a different glint than the usual. There was some agitation.

"I don't know." He responded very succinctly and also directly, leaving no ambiguity in his tone and no deceit in his behavior.

"Whether you like this or not, this secret cannot stay hidden as long as I stay in the Davenport manor."

"I know."

There was such a stillness about him that it made Meryl uncomfortable.

"What will happen if I find out?"

Connor's posture stiffened and his eyes filled with a dark aura signaling her that the outcome could potentially be fatal. It sent a shiver down Meryl's spine.

"I bid you Good night." He stated curtly and left the room without another word.


Connor was indeed quite busy the next several days, running in and out of the manor or staying out over night to do his stuff. Meryl on the other hand was gathering all the clothes and stuff she needed for the mission.

Even Kazuma sensed some urgency in the household.

"Kaz, not now." Meryl sighed as she brushed off the tug she felt at the hem of her casual linen dress.

Kazuma gave her a whimper, lowering his black ears and almost giving her a miserable pout. Meryl eyed him and then sighed with defeat. She dropped to her knees and engulfed him in a hug. He yapped in glory, giving her face a clean wipe with his tongue and his compost breath batting across her face.

"Dear Lord, that breathe yo." she chuckled and gave him a pat down. "Okay, you win, let's go walkies."

Kazuma's ears cocked and he gave a satisfied yowl.

Meryl dropped everything she worked on and headed downstairs.

"Schatz, where are you off to?" Ingrid caught Meryl at the front door.

"I need to spend some quality time with him before the job." She mouthed the last bit which Ingrid immediately understood with an affirmative nod. "Have you seen Connor?"

"He is at the docks."

"For what?"

"Helping, I suppose?"

Meryl rolled her eyes.

"So typical, anyway, I'll be off."

"Don't stray away too far, especially with your upcoming task."

"I know, I know, mom." Meryl grinned and Ingrid returned a snort.

Meryl left the manor and stood on the porch taking a lung full of Spring air. Kazuma was already on the prowl, his nose sunk to the ground and sniffing out the latest trails.

"C'mon boy." She whistled and both broke into a run.

Her day with Kazuma was spent sprinting around the forest and chasing prey. Kazuma of course devoured rabbits, squirrels and basically any scavengers he found.

Meryl had made her way down along the cliffs which lined the Davenport outlet and its dock until she stopped in her steps. In the distance she found that familiar lumbering character in his obscenely obvious garments darting up and down the ramp unloading cargo.

"You know, Kaz, if he made an effort to dress less conspicuously then nobody would even remember him," she patted Kazuma's cocked head. "Unless mister enjoys the attention, I mean who doesn't anyway."

She felt her insides squirm at the thought of Connor and she immediately cleared her throat to dispel the butterflies in her stomach.

"I am such a fucking teenager." She sighed.

A sudden howl erupted from Kazuma which startled Meryl. His nose was in the air with his nostrils flared and wiggling, as if he picked up a scent while his eyes were probably focused on Connor. Without warning he immediately took off in the direction of the docks.

"Kazuma! Stop! Get back here!" she called running after him but unable to catch up due to the uneven and dangerous terrain.

She whistled but he ignored her as he was caught up with the excitement of seeing Connor.

"Great! Let's hope he doesn't get killed." But as she said that, her heart clenched with worry.

Kazuma was a big black wolf, a young adult and still growing to his full potential. If the sailors were unfamiliar or caught by surprise, they might shoot him. Meryl was tall, she was 5'7 and his shoulders reached her a mid-thigh where she could pet his back without bending her back. And when he would pounce her bringing his front paws on top of her shoulder, he was almost her height.

She sped up her pace, following along the cliff then descending down through the packed forest which began to thin out as it got closer to the ocean shore.

Kazuma was ahead of her, but she constantly kept whistling and calling his name and of course he didn't listen because Connor was nearby.

She jogged along the path, which wound around into the outlet until the wooden dock was in plain sight. With a sigh of relief, she saw Kazuma successfully gaining not only the attention of Connor but also the sailors who were huddled around him.

Connor kept his distance and went over to captain Robert Faulkner of the Aquilla who seemed to be waiting for him. Meryl observed the body language and expression of the men and was immediately seized by an insatiable curiosity.

This was her chance to catch a glimpse or hear what Connor's secretive profession was all about. They moved over to the far side of the dock, away from the sailors. Meryl decided to go underneath the dock, as thank God the tide was low. It exposed the long vertical wooden columns of the docks which were anchored to the bedrock below. She had to move fast, walking over the yucky slimy and slippery moss and putrid scent of dirty water, human waste and other smelly things.

She moved from beam to beam, grasping them tightly and careful not to make sudden noises or splashes.

Thankfully the planks of the boardwalk were tightly lined with barely any cracks. But as luck would have it, she did find a crack and that was behind some cargo which just sat across from Connor and Faulkner. Their voices were still a little obstructed, so Meryl found a pocket in the bedrock underneath the dock that had been cleared out through erosion. It was too low for her to stand but fine for her to lie down. She was definitely risking her ass if the tide decided to come back, but she had to know.

"Any news?" Connor inquired directly.

"Nothin' much I am afreid. I know that the Templars are stirrin' up some trouble with the Natives and Charles Lee is playing the obedient dog between Master Kenway and George Washington."

"Stirring up trouble? Who?"

"Johnson's been on the prowl again fer land. He's already taken some land from upper New York with the supposed consent of the Iroquois Confederacy and he is making his way up in this region. I am certain your tribe will be next."

"Not until I kill him first." Connor growled.

Meryl could feel the tension and anger seeping from Connor's body.

"I thought it was all settled with Johnson." Connor's voice took on an abrasive tone.

"Oh my boy, his position as the Superintendent of Indian Affairs for the King and being a Templar has made him untouchable," Faulkner chuckled in a morbid tone, "but I am certain if we surprise him he will sink faster than an anchor at the bottom of the ocean."

"What of the taskmaster?"

"According to me contacts Kenway's still in New York, it is the only damn colony that still holds all Loyalist blood suckers."

"New York?" Connor's voice piqued with an urgency and realization. "Achilles is there."

"Har! Still fearless like in his youth! Nothing escapes that sly old assassin!" Faulkner gave a hearty chuckle.

"He has told me that the taskmaster might make an appearance at the Red Baron Inn." Connor quickly interjected in a lower voice earning a tense pause from Faulkner.

"Is it true?" Faulkner's voice sounded weaker and taken.

"Tomorrow night I am to pick up some information from one of our contacts."

"The movement of the British troops in the colonies? Or the Templars?"

Connor made no sound and since Meryl couldn't see them, she heard Faulkner give a mixture of a sigh and groan.

"That is a risky move, even fer yerself and the old assassin," Faulkner cautioned.

Connor didn't respond.

"What of Miss Briar?"

Meryl's heart involuntarily clenched which almost made her cough.

"She will assist me."

"She? How?"

"The old man believes she will be useful for our cause."

Faulkner hummed.

"He must know what he is doing. The old assassin was never quick to allow a person among the fold," Faulkner paused, "Not even you has he trusted in your training days."

Wow, Faulkner what a burn. It almost made Meryl chuckle.

Connor forcefully cleared his throat.

"Well, he has made it clear that we should trust her –

-yet none of you have told her about the Templars?" Faulkner interrupted Connor quite abruptly and gave him no time to retaliate as his voice took an exasperated tone "Or your mission to destroy them? I say, you do not trust her and if I am not wrong you have a reason not to…"

Connor did not respond. After a pause of probably scrutinizing Connor's face, Faulkner sighed with more exasperation and took a step closer to Connor, judging from the creaking of the boards.

"Do not take me fer a fool," Faulkner hissed under his breath. "I have travelled far and wide, hired new hands and met people of different lands, characters, persuasions and whatnot, you cannot deceive a captain whose responsibility is to vet new hands. You find her too reserved, not honest enough and deceptive. She treads carefully and you fear her strength and her calculating ways."

Connor did not respond, but Meryl felt that anxious stillness emanating from him. Faulkner sighed once more but this time to release the tension and annoyance he felt.

However, a strong gust of wind blew and a sharp thunderous flapping sound erupted followed by rattling.

"God damn it! Tie those bloody sails tightly you maggots!" yelled Faulkner in a trembling rage. "I've paid a fortune for those sails!"

He stormed off into the direction of the ramp, leaving Connor behind. Then she felt the boards creak as Connor decided to move too to the scene of action.

Meryl finally breathed again. It felt like she held her breath the entire time during the conversation as she was straining her ear and making sure that she caught all the information. She was stunned not of the continuous suspicion they had towards her (please, she was suspicious as fuck and she didn't give a shit about it), but more about Connor's profession. Connor was a mercenary after all and Achilles was his boss (and former assassin too, no surprise really) and their goal was to destroy that organization. She remembered from a history class in high school some teacher mentioning the Knights of the Templars which were some pseudo-Christian warriors that crusaded around Europe and beyond in the name of God and Christ, but whether those Templars were the same she was unsure. She would have to do some more research, but for she has to play dumb about it.

She carefully crawled out of the space and swiftly grasped beam by beam to pass under the boardwalk without much noise.

Another thunderous crash overhead startled Meryl, rattling the boards above her and she froze.

"GOD DAMN IT!" bellowed Faulkner with seething anger "Get that mangy mutt out of my sight! Kenway – argh – I mean, Connor! Remove that infernal thing at once!"

Her legs had turned to lead and her heart sank.

"Kenway…Connor?" she muttered to herself, bewildered.

The two names rippled through her and left her more affected than expected. She shook her head with snort. Faulkner could have mistaken those two names in his anger, it happens. However, if this name Kenway was spoken about in private wouldn't one be more careful? Unless Connor's name is also Kenway…

Could it be that Connor was related to that other Kenway?

Meryl willed her body to move but she couldn't. Why did this information affect her? It could be utterly wrong. Was it finally the nerves getting to her? That she was finally meeting a worthy and fearsome opponent, the head of that Templar organization in an innocuous inn owned by the British? Or was it the intentional withholding of information that unsettled her? The latter angered her. What if something had gone wrong like him pulling a knife on her? Do they underestimate her that much?

She took a deep huffing breath, trying to release the growing anger she felt. Distrusting her is one thing but omitting essential information that would could spare her from sudden death is unforgiveable! She took another forceful steady breath in attempt to calm herself.

In a strange turn of events, this knowledge empowered her. She could feel the vengeance, the kind where she will prove them wrong, coursing through her body and setting her system on fire.

Oh she will show them and when she does they will be sorry.

With that mindset she snaked her way under the dock and hoisted herself over the ledge behind some crates. She sat there, her back leaning against the crates. She peered over to the bustling on the dock. Connor had his back turned towards her with the crew gathering the mess that was on the floor. She took that opportunity and stood up, pretending that she had just arrived at the dock.

She whistled and Kazuma's head cocked in the air and he ran towards her with a bark. Connor noticed her too.

"Oh God! Did you make that mess?" she called out and gave Kazuma a scowl.

She walked onto the dock and saw a pile of crates knocked over with its contents splayed all over the deck. Most of it were pistols, rifles and ammunition with a sprinkling of sabers. Connor was on his knees gathering the contents while Meryl ignored his presence and focused her attention on Faulkner.

"Captain! I am so sorry. I will keep him away, let me help."

"Ah Miss Briar! No worries. Let me men handle it." The captain dismissed her help with a grin, utterly forgetting that he was angry just a few seconds ago.

The crew and Connor found a new crate and put most of the things away. A reflective glint caught her eye and she found a pistol further away. She walked towards it and picked it up, but felt a weird wetness as she held it in her right hand. She placed it in her other hand and gasped softly when she saw the semi dry imprint of blood on the palm of her right hand and now her left hand. It was a British pistol of course with the British crown emblem glinting against the soft spring sun light.

A cool shiver went down her spine. She could immediately visualize how its former owner died with it.

"Miss Briar?" called the captain's inquiring voice which startled Meryl for a moment.

She turned around and held the pistol by its barrel to avoid further staining her hands and walked towards the waiting captain.

"I found one," she said but before handing to him she added "you might want to have it cleaned, it is still stained with, uhm, British blood."

The captain's face froze but then his eyes widened.

"Heavens forgive me, Miss Briar! Men, I told you to wipe and scrub the pistols until there was no blood left!" he roared, "Bring a wet rag immediately, the missus hands are dirty!"

The crew's heads shot up and they scrambled to find a wet rag. Connor got up and headed towards Meryl.

"Please forgive me, Miss Briar! I hope I didn't shock you – you must understand we do some privateering as well and…sometimes confrontations happen." He apologized profusely.

Meryl remained calm since the sight blood was nothing out of the ordinary to her with her Marine days. The privateering was something she was aware of, the pillaging and looting of enemy ships or of regular ships was common around this time. Most business made in this period was through trading and smuggling. However, Faulkner probably misread her as she grew increasingly nervous when she felt Connor's approaching presence.

"Captain I am fine, I-I will go to the shore and wash my hands there." She said and walked off in a quick pace, passing Connor without acknowledging him.

Kazuma jumped at her but she raised her hands high above her head so that he couldn't sniff or lick it. The wolf suddenly reacted differently, his nose raised and picking up the foreign scent that emanated from his mistress hands. He curiously trotted alongside her as she made her way off the dock and along the stone beach.


Meryl kicked the stones along the way, clenching her teeth. She stopped in her steps and turned around. She gasped and looked around her. She had been in such deep thought that she didn't realize that she walked into a secluded cove far away from the docked Aquilla. The ship's mast was not visible anymore and neither was the bay where the ship was docked. She felt a chill when a gust of wind bounced off against the dark, grimy and jagged towering walls of the cliffs surrounding the cove. It looked like she was transported to a completely different environment and climate even, it was cooler and damp. She looked down on her hands and still saw the blood crusting her hands.

"The fuck?" she grumbled and looked around herself one more time "Where the fuck am I?

She jogged over to the humid and dark sand, her feet slightly sinking the closer she got to the shore. She hissed when she dipped her hands into the low tide shore, the still cool water making her fingers tingle. As her eyes searched for possible clues of her location she suddenly realized Kazuma's absence. She jumped up to her feet, but somehow was suddenly gripped by gravity and she simply stood still. An overpowering sense of peace and serenity flooded her body and she couldn't help but close her eyes and bask in the sound of the lapping waves and the cries of the seagulls.

Kazuma is almost an adult wolf, he'll be fine.

Something was reassuring her that Kazuma was just fine and it was very weird. She never left Kazuma out of her sight, but it seems the whole mission thing and Connor's possible relations to the head of another mercenary organization must have distracted her. It is almost like when one is in deep thought while driving and suddenly one arrives at home without having any memory of the travel back. Meryl felt exactly that way. And why the fuck was she not deathly worried about Kazuma?!

"Psh! That fucker is fine." She snorted and turned her attention to the cove.

Kazuma was fine, he surely was. He might be fucking around somewhere, literally or not. That thought made her chuckle. Well he was a hot blooded male wolf and it was Spring so his Imma-fuck-anything-that-moves senses must be tingling. She chuckled again and went on her knees without them touching the wet dark sand below her.

Meryl sat there for God knows how long, staring out to the ocean as the water lapped gently just a few inches away from her feet. She lost sense of time utterly absorbed in the sounds created around her.

Maybe she needed this, to disconnect and be in the moment, all that hippie, yoga bullshit.

Her fingers touched the moist sand and she almost gasped at how incredibly soft it was. It was nearly as soft as wet moss or algae that would coat the stones along rivers.

An innate child-like desire to grab and play with the sand overcame her. She found herself dipping her fingers deep into the sand letting them sink almost to her knuckles. A surge of glee coursed through her body and she closed her fingers around the wet sloshy sand and threw it in front of her. It was stupidly childish but it felt so fucking good and right. She repeated that motion over and over until she came in contact with dirty muddy water.

She gathered more sand and decided to make a miniature fort or maybe a castle.

That failed since the sand would melt into a puddle due to the saturation. She chuckled to herself, but all of this felt so good like quenching an age old repressed thirst. She never felt this way. Maybe it was a desire to reconnect to a child-like state again after all the shit she went through in her life?

Or she was simply fed up of adulting?

In her absentminded state she began to trace something in the saturated sand without realizing what it was. Her mind was oddly at ease and her body was completely dedicated to the actions in front of her that she utterly ignored her surroundings. The lapping of the waves, the cawing of the seagulls, the distant battering sound of the waves clashing with the cliff walls and the faint scraping sound when she passed her fingers through the sand added to the overwhelming serenity she felt. It was just her and nature, nothing else.

Time stood still or time passed, she wasn't sure.

Her peace was brusquely interrupted when she heard a crunching mixed with a sloshy sound. She leaped to her feet, facing the danger and fumbling for her knife on her chest and realizing with horror that she had forgotten it in her room. She raised her eyes to confront the threat and when she did, her body immediately stiffened, her arms folded over her chest and her face hardened with a glare.

"Why the fuck do you have to sneak up on me?! Do you realize that I could actually hurt you!"

"How? With sand?" the wooden voice intoned with mild amusement and Meryl lashed back at the source with an exasperated groan.

"What do you want, Connor?"

Connor's presence always did something to her nerves. She loved but also hated how his direct eyes and powerful figure disarmed her. It was sometimes really hard to cover it up in front of him and it was especially more difficult when he surprised her like that. His feet were almost completely submerged in the saturated sand and the bottom of his leg covers were coated with wet sand.

He left a good, conservative distance between them maybe at least 9 feet.

"Kazuma returned home and you didn't." he announced as promptly and directly as usual.

For some reason she didn't want to respond back and she simply turned her back on him to direct her eyes on the ocean.

"Are you agitated?" Connor's voice appeared next to her and she turned her head almost leaping away from seeing him standing next to her.

"W-w-why would you say that?"

Connor had his arms crossed, his gaze also fixed at the ocean in front of him. He gently raised his left hand from its resting position to point his index finger to the ground behind him.

"You've written my name all over the sand."

Meryl's eyes widened and her heart dropped. She jerked her head back and she gasped very loudly and without any qualm, grasping her face in horror.

Connor's name was traced everywhere! It looked like some trippy ass horror film of some psycho or stalker who traced his victim's name all over. She couldn't help herself but cover her reddening face with her palms.

"Oh God dammit." Meryl stammered, turning her body away from him while deadly embarrassed of herself.

WHAT KIND OF FUCKED UP SHIT IS THIS?! While she was at it why didn't she just scribble down what she felt for him or even a marriage proposal?!

"We should return to the manor." Connor declared and turned around to face inland which was the possible exit of the cove, "Dinner is waiting and you need a good night rest."

Meryl stared at him, her jaw slack in disbelief. He was not looking at her. He was just going to let it slide?! Rather than calming her it set her tempers flaring and before she could reason with herself it was already too late.

"Does, does none of this, disturb you at all?!" she stormed up at him, gesticulating at the scribbles in the sand, "If I saw this, I wouldn't let this slide!"

Connor looked at her, keeping his calm composure.

"What do you want me to say?"

"Anything but don't pretend it doesn't exist!"

He observed her carefully then lowered his eyes to the scribbles in the sand. He studied them but quickly returned his attention to Meryl's angered eyes, maintaining a steady gaze.

"I see agitation in your writing." He supplied calmly, "I apologize that I made you uneasy with the mission details."

She stared at him blankly, disarmed by his response. As she noticed that he was about to start walking again, she grabbed his arm to keep him in place. His eyes darted to her hand on his forearm and then to her bewildered face.

"Are - Did you not see whose name I wrote down?" she blurted out with her voice cracking.

He held her gaze, she saw the tension returning to his forehead and jaw and there was something in his eyes. His chestnut eyes showed a brewing storm of emotions that was threatening to explode which conflicted with his very tense face.

"I see my name and nothing more." He affirmed his statement by placing his hand on hers.

Meryl was ready to counter argue, but when he squeezed her hand gently and held her gaze, the desire to confront him vanished. He held her gaze firmly with his turbulent ones that were pleading at her not to push him, not to unleash that dam of emotions.

"Let us go back to the manor." He said in a low voice that was lined with a firmness to conceal the turmoil that was threatening to reveal itself.

In her bewildered state she nodded dumbly and Connor withdrew his hands from hers and began to slowly walk ahead of her. Meryl complied and silently followed him.