N/B:There are plenty of stories about Ichabod and Katrina's lives after they left sleepy hollow, this is not one of them. This story takes place in Sleepy Hollow a hundred years before the original story, set several years after the infamous Salem Witch trails. I made my own changes to suit the story so I probably won't be getting much positive feedback if any at all.
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Sleepy Hollow - 1696
Bouquets of wild flowers landed in a fragrant pile onto the cold body of Goody Ann Linder. Sam Wright stood away from the crowd, leaning on his shovel and waiting for the morose congregation to leave so he could get his deed over and done with. I watched his cold grey eyes scan the crowd, pausing on Governor Linder's twin daughters, Agnes and Eliza. The girls stood motionless beside their father watching the lid of the coffin slam shut as it lowered their mother into the grave.
"Ashes to ashes, Dust to dust." Reverend Curbain declared to the despondent congregation, meaning the funeral service was now over and he was inclined to take a meaningful swill from his hipflask.
I stood hugging my arms around me, eager to be back at the Wildes's cottage. Mary Wilde and her husband Jack stood nearby talking in hushed tones. I closed my tired eyes briefly only to be reunited with the bloodied body of the deformed babe.
'No one must know about this!' insisted Charles Linder, taking a quick look at the child before turning away in disgust, 'No one, do you understand me?'
Mary held the new born in her arms, examining the pointed stumps that protruded from his scalp, 'Surely this is a mere ailment, Sir,' she pleaded, 'I see nothing wrong with the child for it appears a sweet and lusty babe.'
Charles Linder scowled, 'Get rid of it! I shall not suffer the child to live. The markings of the devil are upon it. I will not be held responsible for the evil it will unleash unto our humble community.' I kneeled beside Ann's bedside and mopped her brow. Her breathing came in shallow ragged breaths as I counted the seconds between each one and wondered which would be her last.
'Do not lecture me, Madam! I shall have you punished for your impertinence. Take the child and dispose of it, but take care not to be seen!'
Mary looked down at the babe lying so peacefully in her arms and stammered, 'I -I'm sorry Sir, I can't do it. I won't.'
Governor Linder snatched the babe from Mary's arms and called to his daughters, 'Agnes! Eliza!'
'Please, Sir!' I cried out, 'Mrs Linder is…' but he had fled the room still holding the babe. I heard one of the girls give a shriek, followed by a light thud on the wooden floor.
He returned empty handed moments later; his sullen face glowing, 'I trust that you understand that you can never mention this to anyone.' He said to icily to Mary, his eyes darting across the room and flashing at me. 'I hope you will take this as a token of consolation.' Charles rummaged in his pocket and withdrew a small purse heavy with coin and held it outstretched to Mary. 'Take it!' he shouted when she hesitated, 'Take the money and never tell a soul.'
In the parlor, Mary was attending to Agnes's collapsed body when Eliza came in from the yard. She quickly wiped her hands on her skirt and knelt beside us on the floor, 'You can take your leave now, I'll watch over her.' Eliza said haughtily and narrowed her eyes at me threateningly.
'What did you with the babe?' asked Mary, her hand shaking as she lifted a flail of smelling salts to Agnes's face.
'What babe?' inquired Eliza.
Sam Wright's mean mouth curved into a smirk as he began to shovel damp earth onto the coffin, his gleaming green eyes turned to me, 'They never told us what happened to the child, Elizabeth,' he began, 'And with you being the midwife's aid, I was hoping you might be able to tell me something.' He had stopped digging and stood leaning on the shovel, waiting for my reply.
I tried not to express shock at his enquiry, for surely this was of no matter to him. 'Goody Linder was not with child. It was merely a stomach infection that led us astray.'
He looked disappointed, 'Surely there must be something you're not telling me,' he insisted.
'There is nothing more to tell you, Samuel.' I said before turning my back on him and starting towards the Wildes's, looking back just once to find him still watching.
Mary and Jack Wildes were not kin to me, but I would be forever indebted to the kindness they bestowed upon me by taking me into their home and keeping me safe from the cruel fate that met both of my parents and resulted in them both being persecuted. Persecuted for witchcraft.
My name is not Elizabeth Sherrit as I am known in this village; I am Carmen Fox, daughter of Quentin and Isabella Fox of Salem Village who ended their life with a garland of hemp entwining their necks as they danced at the end of the rope. I was not yet twelve years old and thus no one in the village too bowed down by suspicion noticed me as I disappeared from their records forever. For five days I walked through the woods unharmed by the Native tribes that supposedly populated the forest. For days I fed myself on bark and leaves that my parents had taught me were edible, and at night slept in the hollows of trees. Though they attended the mandatory church services until the day they died, my parents did not believe in God or any superior power that our Puritan leaders had us believe. Sense and Reason was enough to reassure them if ever they questioned existence, and nature was the alter that consecrated their way of life that restored them to their cruel fate. On the morning of the sixth day I awoke to find myself face to face with the curious eyes of a young wolf, or what I took to be a wolf. Remus, half hound, half wolf discovered me asleep in the hollow of a grand oak. I let him lead to the edge of the forest where his owners lived and into the garden of Mary Wildes where I found her planting juniper saplings. It is since that day that I've lived in the household of the Wildes, grateful to their kindness by making myself useful around the house and assisting Mary Wilde, the village midwife. Due to my wide knowledge of plants and herbs taught to me from an early age by my mother, I was able to help Mary care for her garden and brew salves and tonics for the ill. Though Mary and her husband Jack remain respected citizens in this community, the fear of being accused of witchcraft has remained deep down at the bottom of my heart like the tortured images of my poor parents engraved into memory.
A/N: Would really appreciate constructive criticism regarding historical accuracy and story detail. Ichabod doesn't come into the story just yet so please be patient.xXxSugar