Ichabod sat in the carriage, staring at his beautiful new wife, Katrina Van Tassel. She was beautiful with the sun streaming in through the small, velvet lined window, lighting up her young, lovely face. She noticed him staring and turned to smile at him.
"Something amiss, my love?" she asked. He jumped, his face reddening as he realised he'd been caught.
"N-No, nothing, I-I'm fine." he stammered and smiled back at her. She nodded and leaned back against her seat, as the carriage hit a bump and jolted them both. Ichabod cried out and jumped, grabbing hold of the bars on either side of the door.
Katrina took his hands and placed them in her lap, looking at him seriously, her eyes wide and concerned. "Are you sure you're alright, Ichabod?" she asked again. He only nodded and leaned his head against hers.
"I'm fine, dear." he said, his voice barely a whisper. Again, she nodded and sat back agains her seat, this time laying her head against the side of the carriage and closing her eyes.
Ichabod looked out the snall window and watched the trees zip by as the sun started to set. Each shadow he saw made him nervous. His thoughts drifted to the night they gave the horseman back his head and turned over the culprit to him as well. He had helped Katrina and young Masbeth back to the mansion, and packed there things, though on the way, he'd looked back. What he had seen scared him to this very day: the horseman, his head attached, following slowly behind them with his sword unsheathed.
Shuddering, Ichabod closed the curtains on the windows. I need sleep..., he thought to himself and closed his eyes. The poor man was asleep in moments, his weary body just drifiting off into an effortless sleep.
The carriage lurched, throing Ichabod to the floor, Katrina landing on his back with a soft squeal. He reached for her and checked her for wounds. They both looked to the door of the carriage when they heard the driver shout, and the horses whinny in fear. The man's shout was suddenly cut off and a few seconds later they heard a loud thump next to the carriage.
Katrina's eyes widened in pure terror, and Ichabod held her close. Footsteps clamored around the horses and carriage, leather straps were heard moving across the horses backs and hooked to the bench along the carriage's front. It went silent for a second, and the footsteps slowly made their way to the side of the carriage.
Katrina clung fearfully to Ichabod, and he held her close, turning her to shield her body from whatever was outside. He pulled a pistol from under his seat as the footsteps stopped just by the door. Ichabods hands shook as he watched the door intently and listened for more movement. Suddenly the door flew open and Ichabods eyes widened as Katrina's had, just before he went totally limp on the carriage floor, unconcious.
