NOT MY WORK!link
Young Masbeth shuffled from foot to foot with folded arms, waiting for Ichabod and Mrs. Everest to return out of the old Van Tassel house. He looked around, the place still strewn with dying trees and farming animals, looking as gloomy and as dull as ever. New York seemed so different, the city sparkled and had a tinge of excitement to it. Ichabod had even considered sending him to school. Which was something he'd never had the priveledge of experiencing. All his life he'd wanted education, but after his mother's death, it was just him and his father, Jonathan Masbeth. Times were hard and the man turned to drink to ease his sorrows, whereas Young Masbeth just had to sigh and watch as he climbed up that ladder to his little quarters. Jonathan had self-educated Young Masbeth, but Sleepy Hollow being a town of little intelligence and more blind faith there was little to teach. The boy's writing was hardly practical and his reading skills only just made up for it.
Young Masbeth couldn't help but think of his first night in New York ...
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'You'll soon find your bearings, Young Masbeth. The bronx is up, the batteries down, and home is this way.'
The carriage that had dropped them off galloped down the white street. Young Masbeth trudged behind Ichabod with a dolled up Katrina clinging to his arm. He was struggling with the bags that he was carrying, but it didn't stop him gazing around in wonder. This place was amazing! Cobbled streets, not a farm in sight, the people were all so smartly dressed and snow was lightly falling from the pale sky.
...
'Well, here we are.'
Ichabod paused a moment, then slowly eased open the front door with one arm, letting Katrina and Masbeth walk in first. The boy dropped all the bags as his head swerved round, gazing round at the tall room. It was a sheer difference to his little poor house is Sleepy Hollow.
'Your house is beautiful, sir!' Young Masbeth gaped.
'It's your house now, Young Masbeth.' Ichabod replied, walking over and picking up some bags for himself. 'Come, I'll show you to your room.'
The boy grabbed several of the remaining bags and hauled them up the stairs after Ichabod, the staircase tall and winding. Finally the landing was reaching and he followed Ichabod down the hallway to a tall and dark wooden door just on the left. Ichabod turned the handle and flung the door open, stepping inside and dropping his luggage.
The room was a fair size. Ichabod wasn't a rich man but he could afford a presentable house on his constabling wage. Inside the room were gadgets and gizmos of all sorts along with a long table in the centre of the room and a shabby looking single bed in the corner.
'Apologies for the mess, and rather tacky furniture in here.' Ichabod said, indicating the room with his hand. 'This room I sometimes used for examining evidence, but that can all be done elsewhere.'
He looked around the room while Masbeth's heart pounded. He didn't care if the room was a mess or strewn with strange gadgets. It was his, and that was all he cared about.
'I don't know what to say, sir. I'm awestruck!' The boy gasped, looking up at the circular window which had snow falling softly behind the glass. Ichabod turned around and warmly smiled at Young Masbeth, reaching out and patting his shoulder lightly.
'I guess I was the one to look after you, Young Masbeth.' He said quietly, looking down at the luggage. 'Better get yourself unpacked and an early night in, we have a busy day ahead tommorow.'
'A busy day, sir ... ?'
'Yes. Tommorow I must report back to the Burgomeister with my findings, tell him why I have brought back no murderer. You will come with me?' Ichabod asked him.
'Of course.' He said back with a smiling nod. Ichabod sent him a nod back, then stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him and leaving Young Masbeth to unpack.
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'Constable, I hate to interrupt, but y'been cuddlin' the girl for nearly ten minutes, y'think it might be a good idea if we got a move on?' Mrs. Everest looked down at Ichabod, who was sitting on his tattered old bed with the little girl cradled in his arms. He looked up at her, looking somewhat alarmed at first as if she'd disturbed him from performing surgery or something, but his face quickly returned to normal.
'Yes, yes I suppose.' He replied with a stammer, carefully shrugging off his longcoat with one arm and wrapping it round Harlow like a blanket, then slowly standing to his feet.
'Watch out, there. Y'nearly trod on the little cat. Looks like it's been keeping yer girl safe here, Constable.' Mrs. Everest said when Ichabod took a step forward and nearly stepped on the mysterious cat. Ichabod cast his eyes down, seeing the coal coloured cat with its single white paw. He furrowed his brow at it, was it usually like animals to be protective over infants they weren't familiar with?
The cat quickly blinked up at the man, and nudged the toy with it's paw and looked at Ichabod with a bat of its eyes. Ichabod looked down at the cat questionably.
'Hold her.' Ichabod said calmly to Mrs. Everest, carefully handing Harlow to the woman and turning. He knelt before the bed and picked up the cardinal-cage toy, looking down at it in his hands, then folding the string over the disc and tucking it into his inner jacket pocket. There was a slight pause as Ichabod kept his head low.
'That belonged to my mother.' He uttered under his breath, then looking up at the cat. 'But how did you get it?'
For a moment, he actually waited for an answer, then common sense flooded onto him. That cat wasn't going to answer him.
'Kitty aint about to give you an answer anytime soon, sir.' Mrs. Everest said, bouncing Harlow gently up and down in her arms and patting her. 'Come on, we got yer girl. I say we get her fed.'
Ichabod kept a concentrated stare on the cat, then turned his head round to look at the woman. His eyes sank to the baby, she was writhing a little as if she were about to cry. Mrs. Everest was probably right, Harlow was probably hungry.
'Yes, I have what I came for.' He said, standing.
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Mary had been galloping around for not too long, but she realised she wasn't about to find Katrina by just riding around. She'd need a little .. assistance. The horseman ma not be controlled anymore because he now owned his head .. but he'd do anything for Mary. He had some kind of twisted love for her, and as long as he had that, she had him at her mercy.
Her steed halted just near her late husband's house, where she saw a carriage. A carriage?!
And a boy. ... A familiar boy. The constable's young assistant? THE CONSTABLE WAS HERE?!
'You!' She sneered, leaping off her horse, pulling out her pistol and aiming it at Young Masbeth. 'How dare you be here!'
Young Masbeth froze, eyes wide. He wasn't looking at the aimed pistol, but the woman holding it.
' .. Lady Van Tassel!' He gasped, taking a step back. '.H-How?! .. You are dead!'
'Take another step and it'll be your be your head on my mantelpiece, boy!' Mary rested her finger on the trigger, the click of a loading heard.
'Sir!!' The boy called, not daring take his eyes off the Lady, but wanting Ichabod there to ward her off. Mary couldn't risk it anymore, there was no need to shoot the boy, not yet anyway. She lifted the gun, just as the boy was about to yell again, and hit him across the head with it, knocking him clean out and Young Masbeth fell to the floor.
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'So, what now Constable? Are you going to just leave now that you got yer daughter back?' Mrs. Everest asked as they walked down the hallway.
'Give me her.' Ichabod said in a neutral tone, reaching out his arms to take the baby girl from her. The woman carefully tipped Harlow into his waiting arms and watched as he held her to his chest, nearly hidden in the warmth of her father's longcoat. The only sign that he was holding a child in his arms was a little tuft of thick near-black hair peaking out from the top of the bundle. Other then that, one would think he was cradling a bunched up coat.
'You think you should let her mother know she's safe and sound?' She added.
'Her mother?' Ichabod paused, stopped walking. He hadn't received a single word from Katrina, no letters .. nothing. Was she alright? At home, in a stranger town like New York by herself? Had it really been a wise choice to leave her?
'.. Yes. Her mother?' Mrs. Everest questioned, now looking concerned. 'Did ye not say you had a wife?'
Ichabod jerked out of his thought and looked at her.
'Yes, yes my wife. I should write to her, tell her I'm bringing her home like I said ... ' He said quietly, continuing on into his brisk walk until he and Mrs. Everest were out of the door. He proceeded to head toward the carriage, then noticed something.
'Masbeth?' He questioned, voice slightly raised. 'Where is Young Masbeth?'
The inconspicuous cat however, discreetly scampered past them and hid inside the coach, under the seat.
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Katrina ran as fast as her legs could carry her, but she was running out of breath and unsure as to whether she would be followed. But there, before here stood a tall, rather makeshift looking Inn. The large sign on the door portrayed it to be a building called the Everest Inn.
When Katrina had lived in Sleepy Hollow, she'd never needed to stay in an Inn. She had a home, but now she'd need to seek the help of whoever was inside. She only prayed they were friendly.
Inside, Mr and Mrs Everest's son, Sage was sitting at a stool before a wooden table, counting out their not so vast earnings. He looked up on seeing a young, fair haired lady enter..
'You alright, miss?' He asked her. Another customer perhaps? The lady seemed a little out of breath though, and not a spot of luggage could be seen.
'In all truth, I'm not alright .. I .. I was hoping someone could help me ..' Katrina stammered, stepping inside and taking deep breaths.
'Hang on a tic, miss, I'll get me' old man.' Sage said, dismissing himself from his counting duties and rushing off into the next room. Moments later, Sawyer entered, scratching at his balding head.
'What can I do ye for, m'am?' Sawyer addressed, leaning forward on the table casually and looking up at the woman.
'I .. I was hoping you could help me.' Katrina said shakily.
'What's yer name missy?' He replied in a friendly tone, thinking that she just wanted a room here. He got the registry book out and ready to note her down.
'My name is Katrina. Katrina Crane, I was ... ' She started, but the man cut her off.
'Hey! You married per chance, miss?' He said with a wag of the finger as if announcing something. Katrina looking down at the wedding ring on her finger, and lightly held that hand in the other, a protective grasp.
' .. Yes. I am.' She said carefully.
'Fancy that! Your husband happens to be staying here with us, and that lad he brought with him.'
'Ichabod? Here is here? Can I speak with him?!' Katrina stammered with urgency.
'Cool yer heels, Mrs. Crane. He was 'ere this mornin', but he, the boy and me' wife went out. Not sure what for, but musta been a bit of a job. They took the horses and they' not been back for hours.' He replied, oblivious to their reasons.
'He's looking for our baby ... ' Katrina's face crumpled. She knew he couldn't have found her. Her evil stepmother had taken her. Sawyer looked a little surprised.
'Aye 'up. I didn't know the constable had any kiddies.' He said, then stepped closer to Katrina had a tear slid down her face. 'Come on now, love. You can wait here til he gets back.'
'Thank you.' She sniffed.
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(Taking place before Ichabod and Mrs. Everest find Masbeth gone.)
After taking care of that meddlesome young boy, the Lady lifted him onto her horse. His unconcious body slumped over.
'Now for that bloody girl!' She sneered, snapping her horses reins and they were off. Through the town square, through the farms, and into the Western Woods. The horse gallopped onward for what seemed like forever, then finally grounded to a halt as te Lady pulled at it's reins. Present, was the Tree of the Dead.
'Ah, now I shall gain my assistance.' She chuckled, slipping off her horse gracefully and stepping toward the tree. Mary pulled her dark hood, so as not to be seen, and started to climb up the tree. It was a tricky job thanks to her long dress, but she got the job. She was standing over the horseman's resting place, now a gaping hole in the ground as a certain constable hadn't thought to fill the hole in that he'd dug.
'Rise up .. my dark avenger .. ' She chanted, waving her hands over the hole as she loomed over it. ' .. Just one more favour I ask of you, my unholy horseman ... Rise up .. cut down anyone in your path .. and bring to me .. Katrina .. '
Clouds gathered .. shadows towered .. leaves blew .. and a horseman rose.
Young Masbeth shuffled from foot to foot with folded arms, waiting for Ichabod and Mrs. Everest to return out of the old Van Tassel house. He looked around, the place still strewn with dying trees and farming animals, looking as gloomy and as dull as ever. New York seemed so different, the city sparkled and had a tinge of excitement to it. Ichabod had even considered sending him to school. Which was something he'd never had the priveledge of experiencing. All his life he'd wanted education, but after his mother's death, it was just him and his father, Jonathan Masbeth. Times were hard and the man turned to drink to ease his sorrows, whereas Young Masbeth just had to sigh and watch as he climbed up that ladder to his little quarters. Jonathan had self-educated Young Masbeth, but Sleepy Hollow being a town of little intelligence and more blind faith there was little to teach. The boy's writing was hardly practical and his reading skills only just made up for it.
Young Masbeth couldn't help but think of his first night in New York ...
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'You'll soon find your bearings, Young Masbeth. The bronx is up, the batteries down, and home is this way.'
The carriage that had dropped them off galloped down the white street. Young Masbeth trudged behind Ichabod with a dolled up Katrina clinging to his arm. He was struggling with the bags that he was carrying, but it didn't stop him gazing around in wonder. This place was amazing! Cobbled streets, not a farm in sight, the people were all so smartly dressed and snow was lightly falling from the pale sky.
...
'Well, here we are.'
Ichabod paused a moment, then slowly eased open the front door with one arm, letting Katrina and Masbeth walk in first. The boy dropped all the bags as his head swerved round, gazing round at the tall room. It was a sheer difference to his little poor house is Sleepy Hollow.
'Your house is beautiful, sir!' Young Masbeth gaped.
'It's your house now, Young Masbeth.' Ichabod replied, walking over and picking up some bags for himself. 'Come, I'll show you to your room.'
The boy grabbed several of the remaining bags and hauled them up the stairs after Ichabod, the staircase tall and winding. Finally the landing was reaching and he followed Ichabod down the hallway to a tall and dark wooden door just on the left. Ichabod turned the handle and flung the door open, stepping inside and dropping his luggage.
The room was a fair size. Ichabod wasn't a rich man but he could afford a presentable house on his constabling wage. Inside the room were gadgets and gizmos of all sorts along with a long table in the centre of the room and a shabby looking single bed in the corner.
'Apologies for the mess, and rather tacky furniture in here.' Ichabod said, indicating the room with his hand. 'This room I sometimes used for examining evidence, but that can all be done elsewhere.'
He looked around the room while Masbeth's heart pounded. He didn't care if the room was a mess or strewn with strange gadgets. It was his, and that was all he cared about.
'I don't know what to say, sir. I'm awestruck!' The boy gasped, looking up at the circular window which had snow falling softly behind the glass. Ichabod turned around and warmly smiled at Young Masbeth, reaching out and patting his shoulder lightly.
'I guess I was the one to look after you, Young Masbeth.' He said quietly, looking down at the luggage. 'Better get yourself unpacked and an early night in, we have a busy day ahead tommorow.'
'A busy day, sir ... ?'
'Yes. Tommorow I must report back to the Burgomeister with my findings, tell him why I have brought back no murderer. You will come with me?' Ichabod asked him.
'Of course.' He said back with a smiling nod. Ichabod sent him a nod back, then stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him and leaving Young Masbeth to unpack.
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'Constable, I hate to interrupt, but y'been cuddlin' the girl for nearly ten minutes, y'think it might be a good idea if we got a move on?' Mrs. Everest looked down at Ichabod, who was sitting on his tattered old bed with the little girl cradled in his arms. He looked up at her, looking somewhat alarmed at first as if she'd disturbed him from performing surgery or something, but his face quickly returned to normal.
'Yes, yes I suppose.' He replied with a stammer, carefully shrugging off his longcoat with one arm and wrapping it round Harlow like a blanket, then slowly standing to his feet.
'Watch out, there. Y'nearly trod on the little cat. Looks like it's been keeping yer girl safe here, Constable.' Mrs. Everest said when Ichabod took a step forward and nearly stepped on the mysterious cat. Ichabod cast his eyes down, seeing the coal coloured cat with its single white paw. He furrowed his brow at it, was it usually like animals to be protective over infants they weren't familiar with?
The cat quickly blinked up at the man, and nudged the toy with it's paw and looked at Ichabod with a bat of its eyes. Ichabod looked down at the cat questionably.
'Hold her.' Ichabod said calmly to Mrs. Everest, carefully handing Harlow to the woman and turning. He knelt before the bed and picked up the cardinal-cage toy, looking down at it in his hands, then folding the string over the disc and tucking it into his inner jacket pocket. There was a slight pause as Ichabod kept his head low.
'That belonged to my mother.' He uttered under his breath, then looking up at the cat. 'But how did you get it?'
For a moment, he actually waited for an answer, then common sense flooded onto him. That cat wasn't going to answer him.
'Kitty aint about to give you an answer anytime soon, sir.' Mrs. Everest said, bouncing Harlow gently up and down in her arms and patting her. 'Come on, we got yer girl. I say we get her fed.'
Ichabod kept a concentrated stare on the cat, then turned his head round to look at the woman. His eyes sank to the baby, she was writhing a little as if she were about to cry. Mrs. Everest was probably right, Harlow was probably hungry.
'Yes, I have what I came for.' He said, standing.
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Mary had been galloping around for not too long, but she realised she wasn't about to find Katrina by just riding around. She'd need a little .. assistance. The horseman ma not be controlled anymore because he now owned his head .. but he'd do anything for Mary. He had some kind of twisted love for her, and as long as he had that, she had him at her mercy.
Her steed halted just near her late husband's house, where she saw a carriage. A carriage?!
And a boy. ... A familiar boy. The constable's young assistant? THE CONSTABLE WAS HERE?!
'You!' She sneered, leaping off her horse, pulling out her pistol and aiming it at Young Masbeth. 'How dare you be here!'
Young Masbeth froze, eyes wide. He wasn't looking at the aimed pistol, but the woman holding it.
' .. Lady Van Tassel!' He gasped, taking a step back. '.H-How?! .. You are dead!'
'Take another step and it'll be your be your head on my mantelpiece, boy!' Mary rested her finger on the trigger, the click of a loading heard.
'Sir!!' The boy called, not daring take his eyes off the Lady, but wanting Ichabod there to ward her off. Mary couldn't risk it anymore, there was no need to shoot the boy, not yet anyway. She lifted the gun, just as the boy was about to yell again, and hit him across the head with it, knocking him clean out and Young Masbeth fell to the floor.
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'So, what now Constable? Are you going to just leave now that you got yer daughter back?' Mrs. Everest asked as they walked down the hallway.
'Give me her.' Ichabod said in a neutral tone, reaching out his arms to take the baby girl from her. The woman carefully tipped Harlow into his waiting arms and watched as he held her to his chest, nearly hidden in the warmth of her father's longcoat. The only sign that he was holding a child in his arms was a little tuft of thick near-black hair peaking out from the top of the bundle. Other then that, one would think he was cradling a bunched up coat.
'You think you should let her mother know she's safe and sound?' She added.
'Her mother?' Ichabod paused, stopped walking. He hadn't received a single word from Katrina, no letters .. nothing. Was she alright? At home, in a stranger town like New York by herself? Had it really been a wise choice to leave her?
'.. Yes. Her mother?' Mrs. Everest questioned, now looking concerned. 'Did ye not say you had a wife?'
Ichabod jerked out of his thought and looked at her.
'Yes, yes my wife. I should write to her, tell her I'm bringing her home like I said ... ' He said quietly, continuing on into his brisk walk until he and Mrs. Everest were out of the door. He proceeded to head toward the carriage, then noticed something.
'Masbeth?' He questioned, voice slightly raised. 'Where is Young Masbeth?'
The inconspicuous cat however, discreetly scampered past them and hid inside the coach, under the seat.
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Katrina ran as fast as her legs could carry her, but she was running out of breath and unsure as to whether she would be followed. But there, before here stood a tall, rather makeshift looking Inn. The large sign on the door portrayed it to be a building called the Everest Inn.
When Katrina had lived in Sleepy Hollow, she'd never needed to stay in an Inn. She had a home, but now she'd need to seek the help of whoever was inside. She only prayed they were friendly.
Inside, Mr and Mrs Everest's son, Sage was sitting at a stool before a wooden table, counting out their not so vast earnings. He looked up on seeing a young, fair haired lady enter..
'You alright, miss?' He asked her. Another customer perhaps? The lady seemed a little out of breath though, and not a spot of luggage could be seen.
'In all truth, I'm not alright .. I .. I was hoping someone could help me ..' Katrina stammered, stepping inside and taking deep breaths.
'Hang on a tic, miss, I'll get me' old man.' Sage said, dismissing himself from his counting duties and rushing off into the next room. Moments later, Sawyer entered, scratching at his balding head.
'What can I do ye for, m'am?' Sawyer addressed, leaning forward on the table casually and looking up at the woman.
'I .. I was hoping you could help me.' Katrina said shakily.
'What's yer name missy?' He replied in a friendly tone, thinking that she just wanted a room here. He got the registry book out and ready to note her down.
'My name is Katrina. Katrina Crane, I was ... ' She started, but the man cut her off.
'Hey! You married per chance, miss?' He said with a wag of the finger as if announcing something. Katrina looking down at the wedding ring on her finger, and lightly held that hand in the other, a protective grasp.
' .. Yes. I am.' She said carefully.
'Fancy that! Your husband happens to be staying here with us, and that lad he brought with him.'
'Ichabod? Here is here? Can I speak with him?!' Katrina stammered with urgency.
'Cool yer heels, Mrs. Crane. He was 'ere this mornin', but he, the boy and me' wife went out. Not sure what for, but musta been a bit of a job. They took the horses and they' not been back for hours.' He replied, oblivious to their reasons.
'He's looking for our baby ... ' Katrina's face crumpled. She knew he couldn't have found her. Her evil stepmother had taken her. Sawyer looked a little surprised.
'Aye 'up. I didn't know the constable had any kiddies.' He said, then stepped closer to Katrina had a tear slid down her face. 'Come on now, love. You can wait here til he gets back.'
'Thank you.' She sniffed.
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(Taking place before Ichabod and Mrs. Everest find Masbeth gone.)
After taking care of that meddlesome young boy, the Lady lifted him onto her horse. His unconcious body slumped over.
'Now for that bloody girl!' She sneered, snapping her horses reins and they were off. Through the town square, through the farms, and into the Western Woods. The horse gallopped onward for what seemed like forever, then finally grounded to a halt as te Lady pulled at it's reins. Present, was the Tree of the Dead.
'Ah, now I shall gain my assistance.' She chuckled, slipping off her horse gracefully and stepping toward the tree. Mary pulled her dark hood, so as not to be seen, and started to climb up the tree. It was a tricky job thanks to her long dress, but she got the job. She was standing over the horseman's resting place, now a gaping hole in the ground as a certain constable hadn't thought to fill the hole in that he'd dug.
'Rise up .. my dark avenger .. ' She chanted, waving her hands over the hole as she loomed over it. ' .. Just one more favour I ask of you, my unholy horseman ... Rise up .. cut down anyone in your path .. and bring to me .. Katrina .. '
Clouds gathered .. shadows towered .. leaves blew .. and a horseman rose.
