The welcome Ichabod received when he returned to the village was mixed. From Katerina it was warm and friendly, and sincere, but from the others, who still remembered the events of over a year ago, when the headless horseman had killed so many, the reception was a bit frostier.
And Georg didn't show up at all.
Ichabod wasn't too bothered by it though. He was too busy cleaning up the house, with the help of a servant girl sent by Katerina from the manor house. The whole first week was actually spent sorting out the mess made by over a decade of bohemian habits and one year of total neglect. Then the new notary threw out the furniture that was either broken, rotten or simply in the way of his habits.
The Hessian had prudently decided to stay away from his lover until the boy had settled down in his new surroundings. But he had extended his daily rounds to include a detour by the house, just to make sure everything was alright with Ichabod.
And he got all the news and gossip he needed from the ghosts of Sleepy Hollow. Apparently not everyone was too opposed against the new notary. The village lads, for example, had, as soon as the broken engagement had been public, become a lot friendlier in their attitude towards the stranger, now when he was no longer competing about miss Katerina's attention, and her money.
Georg thought this as a good thing because it meant at least that he would not have to protect the young man from the bullies of the village. At least not now.
One evening in the middle of january, a couple of days after Ichabod had finished cleaning the house, one could find him sitting on the floor in the office trying to sort out all the documents stored in the room. He had gathered them in neat piles in alphabetical order, and now he was busy indexing them on small cards. Three cards for each document, so that he could find them either according to name, or date, or nature of the document. The documents themselves he would store in alphabetical order in specially made chest of drawers that he had ordered from the village carpenter. And the cards he would store in three boxes, also ordered from the carpenter.
"Aken, Jeremiah van; a will, dated the 17th of october 1789", he said out loud to himself. "This must be the third will he has written, and the earliest one was put down on the 12th of june 1788. This is unusually often. I better put down a note about it on the cards, if something would happen to van Aken."
Right then somebody knocked on the door. Ichabod went up to open it.
"Georg!"
It was indeed the Hessian who was standing there. They kissed, both having longed for each other. Ichabod put everything he felt in the kiss, as did Georg, and when they parted, they were both very red around the lips. Georg could feel Ichabod's desire, and knew the other man could feel his own, but for one reason or other, the younger man did not admit to it but separated himself from his lover and asked him to come inside.
"Please come in! I'm so sorry for the mess, but these files need sorting desperately," Ichabod said as an explanation.
Georg walked in, and looked around. The house was much cleaner now than before, with new paint on the walls and clean windows.
He took of his coat, harness,and his boots out in the hallway, recalling how the maid at his father's house would yell if the children walked in with dirty shoes. Then he hung up the weapons next to the cloak. The belt with the sword in its scabbard, he brought with him into the room though.
"Can I help?", he asked when he saw the papers on the floor in the office.
"Yes," Ichabod nodded, "you can start on this pile reading out loud who it is and what it contains, and the date."
"All right." Georg hung up his belt on the chair and sat down, and began to read from the first file in the stack. "Jeremiah van Aken, or should that be Aken, Jeremiah van?
A will dated on the 12th of july 1796".
"That would be the fourth will from his pen. And the latest one, as far as I can find."
"He must be changing his favors rather often."
"Either that, or he is really not certain of who is worthy of his money."
They sat, indexing documents for a while, and had gotten to 'Fletcher, James', when Georg decided they both could use a break.
"Do you know what", he said, "I do not think that we can finnish off all these papers in one night, so why don't we take a break now?"
"Well", Ichabod said, "you do have a point there, and I have not received a proper 'welcome back' from you."
"You will get it if you put down that pen, and get over here."
Ichabod finished what he was writing and put down the pen. Then he walked over to Georg's side of the table. Georg motioned to him to take a seat in his lap.
He sat down, straddling Georg's legs, facing him. Georg pulled him closer.
"That's better", Georg said.
"Is it?"
"Yes, I can see you properly now."
They kissed, and Ichabod wondered what Georg had in mind for the rest of the night. As an answer to that unvoiced question Georg unbuttoned Ichabod's trousers. Then he was asked to stand up so they could be completely pulled down. A bare-bottomed young man then took his place again in his lover's lap. They kissed some more, while Georg unbuttoned his own trousers.
Georg's caresses grew more and more intimate, and Ichabod in turn grew more and more excited. Then in a swift movement they had somehow moved from the chair to the table behind Ichabod, or more truthfully, Georg had lifted up Ichabod to lie on the table while he was standing between his legs.
"I am to have you now", Georg said in a whisper, "But you can say 'no', and I will stop."
Never had Ichabod thought that two people could be enjoying each other in this way, especially as they were both male, but soon he stopped thinking and just enjoyed the pleasure that had come after the initial pain.
Exhausted they sank down on the floor, holding each other tight.
Hovering between slumber and drowsiness Ichabod felt someone lift him up. He knew it was Georg so he just slumbered on.
It was a good dream. Ichabod had learned to recognize those. The primary thing for a good dream in his opinion was that either his mother or Georg was in it, and that it did not feature his father in any capacity whatsoever.
He was a little boy again, maybe four, or five years old, watching a parade of strange soldiers. Mother held him high so he could see them better. Behind them was a whispered conversation:
A pale man in dark clothes, on a midnight horse, with blazing blue eyes that stared at something in front of him that no one else could see.
The crowd held their collective breath while the mischief-maker suddenley realized that his life might just end here and now.
Then the gray one put his hand on the other's shoulder and said a few words in a language Ichabod didn't understand, and the axe was lowered, slowly.
Then Ichabod woke up, and the sun was rising.
The morning sun shone in through the window, and Ichabod had rissen from bed a few minutes ago. He was still trying to figure out wether this was a memeory or just a dream. And added another item to the long list of questions that he would ask Georg one day.
Ichabod shot a glance out the window to see if the weather today would be any better than yesterday, and saw Katerina outside his house.
Throwing on his clothes he rushed downstairs to warn Georg, but it was too late.
"Katerina!", Ichabod managed to get out, "don't excorcise Georg or kill me." And before he fainted he got out: "Georg, don't kill Katerina."
Then everything was silent.
The visitor, a young lady named Katerina van Tassel had not seen the big black horse standing outside the house, because Daredevil had decided to go home to Horse's Heaven, instead of waiting for his master to finish his business with that lover of his.
The tension broke as they both rushed towards Ichabod's unconcious body.
They walked upstairs to put Ichabod to bed. Katerina watched as the man she regarded as a monster pulled up the comforter to Ichabod's chin, tucking him in carefully. Then the Hessian stood to one side of the bed, next to Ichabod's head.
They were silent for a while, while both tried to think of something clever to say.
Then she looked at Georg with a smile.
Ichabod had been awake for about half an hour, and was very surprised to see the house still standing, and that Georg and Katerina actually had come to some kind of agreement which would benefit them both.
The rest of the day Georg helped Ichabod to bring order back to the mess Katerina had made when walking through the documents. Katerina had been a bit annoyed at the yelling that the mess in the office had coused, so she had left after Ichabod had helped her write a contract, in wich she hired Georg Aschenbach as a game keeper for the Western Woods.
"Well", said Ichabod Crane to Georg Aschenbach when they had finished the huge task, "I guess that I'll have to write you in as a member of the population of Sleepy Hollow."
"You, what are you going to do?"
"I am to pleasure you and me both."
"We fit well together, you and I," Georg said as he began to move inside his lover.
And each time he thought he would come, Georg seemed to sense it and stopped his movements. Irritated Ichabod began to move his hips as to compensate for Georg's teasing, as he considered it to be.
And soon Georg could not hold back longer but increased his pace and brought both of them over the edge.
Georg felt Ichabod fall into a slumber, brought on by the intense moment. He lay down next to the boy, after he had checked on him for any blood. As there had been none to find, he decided that he didn't have to worry about Ichabod.
Chapter 10
Cold water on his body, followed by linen sheets against his skin.
He opened an eye to make sure he was in his own bed, and since this was the case, he looked arund him for Georg, expecting him to have left. To his surprise, Georg was busy washing himself off, and had taken of his own clothes.
Ichabod looked at him, quiteley admiring that body. He'd never tire of watching that well-muscled back. Then Georg walked over to the bed and laid down next to the previous occupant of the bed.
"It's a bit narrow", Ichabod said.
"Doesn't matter", the Hessian answered, "I've slept in worse. And you are in here."
Ichabod snuggled closer, and fell asleep, safe in strong arms.
'Those in the red coats, that's the Brits, but those in the green coats, that's the Hessians.'
'But those after the Hessians, what are they?'
'Mercenaries, I think. I have heard of them.'
Right then the strange soldiers, which were dressed in uniforms that set them apart from the other soldiers, came in sight and the whispers continued:
'They look terrible, don't they.'
'Yes, it's to scare people in the battlefield.'
'And that one, the one in black on a black horse, he'd be able to scare the dead out of their graves.'
Ichabod saw which one they were talking about.
And next to him another horseman, a young man, with red hair that was neatly tied up in the neck with a green ribbon. He wore worn and pale clothes that probably once had been blue and green, but was now in a musty gray.
Suddenley something happened; a boy who on a dare had rushed forward to cause some commotion among the horses, to see if they could be scared off.
The black-clothed horseman reined in his own horse, while his gray companion had a more difficult time getting his horse under control.
And then the black-clothed one lifted his hand and in it was an axe.
'You should not tease men like us', the gray one said in a very garbled English, 'Today he was in good mood, to-morrow might be otherwise.' The short speech was concluded with a smile, from both of the horsemen, one with the ususal dental problems of the age, and the other one with sharp fangs.
He could hear someone walk about downstairs, and since the maid wasn't supposed to be about that day, he concluded that Georg still was in the house. Maybe he could ask those questions today.
Maybe they could continue with the indexing of all those documents, and then maybe a ride in the woods, and then maybe Georg would sleep over here another night, or he could sleep over at Georg's place...
Humming a tiny, happy tune he began to get dressed.
Katerina had already enterd the kitchen, where Georg had been busy trying to light the fire in the old fireplace.
And the two most important people in his life was staring at each other, and the air seemed to crackle with unleashed magic.
Anytime now firebolts would be flying about. And an axe was slowly lifted.
Chapter 11
So there were really no reason for her to suspect anything to be out of the ordinary.
Katerina had walked into Ichabod's office when she had heard a noise coming from the kitchen. As she assumed that her friend was there, she had walked straight through the piles of paper littered on the floor, not caring too much about the mess she made; it was just papers after all.
There had been other things too in the office, like a sword in a scabbard hanging from a chair, and a cloak and a pair of boots, that were *not* Ichabod's style, in the hallway,but she didn't pay attention to that.
She just wanted to talk to the new notary about a couple of land deals, which old van Garrett had made, that seemed a bit questionable to her. She owned the land now; more than half the Western Woods, including the Tree of the Dead, and a few other spots, including where the old Archer cottage once had been. So it was just to look at the contracts and make sure everything had been done in a proper way, both legally and otherwise.
Katerina was in other words not prepared to see a lean man in black clothes, who was *not* Ichabod Crane, on his knees in front of the firepace trying to light a fire, with his back to the door. As he rose, turning around to see the visitor, Katerina had seen him smile for a few seconds, before he apparently realized who she was. Then her memory had kicked in and she realized who it was standing in front of her.
About three seconds later an axe had magically apperared in his hand, as she was preparing a spell to send this hated face back to Hell.
Then Ichabod had come into the room, asking them not to kill each other, or him, before he fainted.
Katerina was surprised at the care with which the Hessian lifted up the young man in his arms.
"He do this all the time", said the horseman with a faint smile.
"Seems like he cares a lot for you", replied Katerina. "He asked me not to exorcise you."
"And me not to kill you, miss."
"My name is Georg Aschenbach."
"I'm Katerina van Tassel", the young woman said before she sat down on the only chair in the room. She felt a bit like a queen, giving an audience to a vasall. Straightening her back she tried to look a bit more regal.
Georg straightened himself as well.
"I know. Your stepmother talked quite a lot about you."
"Nothing good I presume."
"No."
"What happened to her?"
"That's a story I promised mr Crane that he would be the first one to hear."
"But then I'm allowed to hear it?"
"Yes."
"You don't look at all that scary without your cloak and your harness."
"You are the third one to tell me that", Georg said with a faint annoyance in his voice.
"Who were the two first?"
"Notary Hardenbrook and notary Crane."
"How can dead people talke about clothes?"
"Notary Hardenbrooks ghost can."
"Are there any other ghosts?"
"Yes."
"Who?"
"Her father, lord van Tassel, lord van Garrett, both of them, lady van Garrett, also known as mrs Winship, and a few more."
"What! Why?"
"They want to know 'what happens next', and they also want to know what ever happend to lady van Tassel."
"How is my father?"
"He is well, considering the fact that he is dead."
"And my mother?"
"She has passed on, to somewhere else. She left just after lady van Tassel had been taken to Hell. She was content that the one who 'nursed her into death' had gotten her punishment. She also told me to tell you that you should open your ears a bit more to hear everything that goes on unseen, and that she whishes you all the best."
Katerina nodded and sat silent for a long moment.
"Since I own the part of the woods where your Tree is, you should pay rent, shouldn't you?"
"Yes."
"But since you probably don't have the money, could you work as a guardian of the woods for me? Be my personal game keeper so to say?"
"Will I get paid?"
"Yes, same as I would pay any employee of mine that happens to live on my grounds."
"Then I accept."
Baffled at the turn the day had taken, Georg could not find anything else to say further, and decided to check on Ichabod.
He was also very happy about it.
"Yes."
"So, here's your index card. 'Aschenbach, Georg.'"
He began to fill in the posts, "date of birth?"
"The 13th of december 1738, S:t Lucia's Day."
"That's the day we call Saint Lucy's Day."
"Same saint, different names."
"Well, that means that you were forty when you died."
"Forty going on forty-one"
"Place of birth?"
"Strandenstrasse 4,in the town of S:t Radegunda, in the dukedom of Altenstrand, in Germany."
"Parents?"
"Notary Gerhardt Aschenbach, and Uta Aschenbach, born von Altenstrand.
"Well..." The young notary put down the pen and looked at the facts he had written down on that little piece of cardboard.
"Well what?"
"It feels strange that someone's life can be concentrated into a few lines on a piece of paper. One misses so many important things, like who the person behind those few posts is."
"I am me, whatever you write down on that card."
"I have so many questions for you."
"To fill out that card?"
"No, for my own sake."
"Then ask; I will try and answer."THE END
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