November 20, 1779
The next morning, Lillian woke up and rolled over in bed, opening her eyes and seeing Simara was perched on the nightstand, sleeping. The dark-haired woman stared at her feathered friend for a minute, remembering her encounter with the Hessian last night, and how angry he became when she tried to question him about his past and why he chose to kill. In a way, Lillian was now afraid of him, but knew she did not mean to anger him on purpose. Despite her fear, she hoped to see him again to apologize, but would have to tread more lightly and be more careful with her words, for she had seen just how fearsome and formidable he could be.
Getting out of bed, Lillian changed out of her nightgown and into her dress, then headed out the door and walked down the exterior staircase and went over to the Mortner's house for some breakfast.
When she entered the house, Lillian was greeted by Cassandra, who glanced over her left shoulder and gave her a smile.
"Good morning, Lillian."
"Good morning."
"Would you like some coffee?" Cassandra offered, holding up a pewter pot.
"No, thank you", said Lillian, as she sat down in a chair and started helping herself to a bowl of porridge. Just as she started eating, Mr. Mortner entered from the bedroom and greeted the two young women.
"Good morning, ladies."
"Good morning, Father", said Cassandra.
"Good morning, Mr. Mortner", said Lillian.
"Is breakfast ready, Cassandra?" Mr. Mortner asked his daughter.
"In a minute, Father", Cassandra answered.
Mr. Mortner sat down at the table and asked them, "A bit chilly last night, wasn't it?"
"I wouldn't know. I was asleep", Cassandra answered.
"I wasn't", said Lillian. "I had a terrible dream last night and didn't sleep so well."
This, of course, was a lie. Lillian hated lying to Mr. Mortner and Cassandra, but knew it was better for them to hear that she had a nightmare rather than know she was out late last night seeing the Hessian Horseman.
"Would you care to discuss it?" Mr. Mortner asked her.
"Thank you, but I'd rather not", Lillian answered.
"Well, I'm sure you'll sleep much better tonight", Mr. Mortner assured her.
Cassandra came over and poured some coffee into a mug for her father, asking him, "I suppose you have a remedy for Lily's problem?"
"Maybe not a remedy, but I was thinking we might close the tavern for the day. We haven't been seeing very much business these last fews weeks. And besides, my bones have been aching for a day's rest."
"But what shall Cassandra and I do today?" Lillian asked him.
"I already have my day figured out", Cassandra mentioned, ladling some porridge into a bowl. She turned around and brought Mr. Mortner's breakfast over to the table, placing the bowl in front of her father and explaining to Lillian, "Mr. Van Tassel informed me the other day his wife has taken ill recently and is too sick to help him around their farm. I promised him I would help him this morning."
Lillian lowered her head and ate another spoonful of porridge. Although Cassandra was telling the truth, Lillian knew this was just another excuse for her to avoid seeing Albert Vaughn.
"You made no mention of this to me", said Mr. Mortner.
"Father, I told you this last night before I went to bed", Cassandra reminded him. "Mr. Van Tassel came to me yesterday and asked me to help him tend to his flock and feed the chickens."
Mr. Mortner thought it over a minute, as thought trying to figure out if what his daughter was saying was true or not. With a wave of his hand, he told her, "Very well. Be off with you, then."
"Yes, Father", said Cassandra, who went over to retrieve her cape from off the wall and threw it on before heading out the door.
"But, Cassandra, you haven't eaten yet", Lillian mentioned.
Cassandra paused in the doorway and looked to her friend, telling her, "I haven't an appetite this morning. Good day, Lillian." With that being said, Cassandra walked out of the house, shutting the door behind her.
Having lost her own appetite, Lillian pushed her half-eaten bowl of porridge aside and leaned back in her chair, looking disappointed.
"Is something wrong, Lillian?" Mr. Mortner asked her.
Lillian sighed heavily and answered, "I don't know. All I know is that ever since her mother died, Cassandra's been acting very odd."
"Indeed, you're right", Mr. Mortner agreed. "I don't know what's come over of her lately, but ever since her mother died, Cassandra just hasn't been the same."
"Do you think she's hiding something?"
"It's hard for me to say."
"I wish there was something I could do to help her."
"So do I."
Lillian blinked and placed her hand over Herbert's, holding it in the hopes that doing so might help her see into Cassandra's future, but nothing happened. No visions. No predictions of any kind.
Mr. Mortner was lost in thought for a moment, until he pulled his hand away from Lillian's grasp and said, "No matter. Whatever it is, I'm sure it will fade. For now, I want you to enjoy the day that has been given to you."
"Yes, sir", said Lillian. "As a matter of fact, I was thinking I might visit Albert this afternoon."
"Excellent. I'm sure he would enjoy a little company from an old friend. Perhaps you could make him one of your delicious meat pies."
Lillian smiled softly and said, "I think that's a good idea."
An hour later, Lillian went over to Mrs. Van Dien's house, carrying something wrapped in a white cloth. She knocked on the door and waited until it opened and was greeted by an old woman with gray hair.
"Hello, Lillian", said Mrs. Van Dien in a sweet, kindly voice.
"Hello, Mrs. Van Dien", said Lillian. "I was hoping to speak to Albert Vaughn. Is he here?"
"Not at the moment, love. He went out this morning to look for work."
"I understand. When he returns, would you giving him this meat pie? I baked it especially for him."
Mrs. Van Dien took the meat pie wrapped in cloth and exclaimed, "Oh, how very thoughtful of you, dear. I'm sure he'll appreciate it. You know, he spoke to me last night about how much he missed you and Cassandra."
Lillian looked surprised to hear this and asked her, "Did he really say that?"
"Oh, yes. He's very fond of you both. Albert told me last night that if he were ever to marry someone, he would choose either you or her."
Lillian was about to ask Mrs. Van Dien something personal about Albert, but just then, the sound of a horse neighing caught her attention. Turning around, Lillian saw a man in uniform come riding up to the house of Mr. and Mrs. Calvin. The man dismounted from his steed and went to the door and knocked loudly, waiting until a middle-aged man and his wife answered. Looking solemn, the messenger removed his hat and informed something to the couple that caused Mrs. Calvin's face to scrunch up in agonized grief. Lowering her face into her hands, she suddenly burst into tears, having just heard news that her son and only child had died in action.
"He's dead", Lillian whispered to herself.
"What was that, dear?" Mrs. Van Dien asked her.
Lillian looked to the widow, then looked back at the grieving couple and said, "Nothing."
Mr. Calvin held his sobbing wife in his arms, crying silent tears over the loss of their son. He looked to the soldier and spoke something to him before escorting his wife back into the house, shutting the door.
By the time the soldier got back on his horse and rode away, half the townspeople were asking each other what could have possibly happened, but Lillian had already known long before any of them did.
From what her vision had told her, Lillian had seen what had now become of the late Timothy Calvin. Standing beside his friends and brothers-in-uniform during a battle, he lost his head to a cannonball that was fired by British soldiers. Lillian walked away from the old widow's house and went over to stand next to the tavern, wishing there was something she could do to help the now childless couple. She wished she hadn't seen the death of their son, but she had.
Mr. Mortner came out of his house and went over to Lillian, asking her, "Lillian, what's happened? Who was screaming?"
"It's Mrs. Calvin", Lillian answered. "She and her husband just received word that their son was killed. Their son is dead, Mr. Mortner..." Lillian lowered her head and put a hand to her face, covering it as she started to cry.
Mr. Mortner hugged his arms around the saddened young woman to comfort her, and Lillian hugged him back in return and laid her head on his shoulder, feeling terrible for the death of Timothy Calvin. She didn't know him too well, but like most of the soldiers who were fighting in the war, Lillian knew that he was still a young man who had so much more to look forward to in life. Now he was dead. Another soul gone home to Heaven.
Later that night, Lillian lied awake in bed, her mind wandering back to the Hessian. She threw the blanket off and sat up at once, placing her bare feet on the cold floor. She stood up and walked over to the window, gazing out towards the Western Woods. A small voice in the back of her head kept telling her not go back there or even think about sneaking off to go see the Hessian again. Lillian wished that the voice would go away and leave her alone, for in her heart, she knew that she still admired him, even though she knew that she shouldn't. She knew that he did not come to America to look for a bride and settle down, but to keep the militia under fear of the Crown and kill as many Americans as possible. Despite this, he was still a man of principles, and knew who he was supposed to kill and not kill, but Lillian couldn't help but feel he was hiding something from her.
"Why do you choose to ignore my words?" A soft male voice asked her.
Lillian turned around and saw the outline of a person standing in a dark corner of her room. Stepping forward, Nikolas Waise revealed himself in the moonlight to his daughter.
"Father?" Lillian asked him.
"Why do you linger here?" Nikolas questioned her. "I thought I told you to leave this place before it was too late."
"But where am I to go? I know nothing of the world outside this village. If I leave Sleepy Hollow, where should I go?"
"There is one place you will be safe. It is a two day journey from here, but once you are there, you will be safe from the curse of the Devil the witch will bring forth. You will not take to it at first, but there, you will be protected."
"You speak of New York?"
"Yes."
Lillian stared at her father for a minute and said, "I can't."
"Why not? Because you love him?" Nikolas questioned her. "You do not know the pain and misery you will bring yourself should you choose this path."
"Father, I can't just abandon him."
"Why not? How do you know the Hessian will not abandon you?"
"He wouldn't do that!" Lillian protested.
Nikolas stepped forward again and stared directly into his daughter's eyes, giving her a warning. "You don't know that. You think you know everything about him, but you don't. You do not know of the precious secret has has buried deep within the confines of his heart. To him, it is an evil secret, something he does not wish for anybody to know about. Not even you."
"But...I thought you said he wasn't evil."
"He isn't...Not yet."
Lillian didn't like what he was implying and asked him, "What are you talking about?"
Nikolas turned around and walked back into the dark corner of the room, vanishing into thin air.
"Father, wait!"
Lillian ran after him, only to find the corner of the room was empty. Her hands felt for him, but found no trace of her father.
Lillian found herself wondering through the Western Woods much later that night, holding a lantern in her hand to help light her way through the darkness. She came to a halt in the middle of the Indian Trail and held the lantern up as though she were trying to search for someone, completely unaware that she was being followed by a dark figure, as a man snuck up behind her and locked his arm around her waist, clasping his free hand over her mouth. Lillian dropped the lantern and the light diminished. In the darkness that surrounded them, Lillian saw two other men come out from behind the trees and found herself being forced down onto the ground by their leader. The men, she realized, were none other than the three men who raped her that terrible night back in October. The two men stood beside their friend, laughing and mocking their female victim as the leader of the ravenous bastards ripped open her blouse and started to have his way with her, forcing Lillian to relive the horrific nightmares of excruciating pain and unwanted stimulation. She screamed at the top of her lungs, hoping somebody would come save her, but nobody came to her rescue.
Lillian woke up with a gasp, sitting up in bed and feeling her heart beating very fast inside her chest. Her nightgown clung to her sweat-soaked body and she put a hand to her forehead, feeling her skin was cold and clammy. She moved her hand to her face and felt her cheeks were warm to the touch, as though she were coming down with a fever. Looking at her hands, Lillian saw they were shaking. Looking around, she found she was back in the safety of her bedroom. Not one sign of her rapists to be found anywhere, except in the graveyard just outside of town. Lillian looked at her hands again and lowered her face into them, failing to hold back tears. As she started to cry, Simara woke up and looked at Lillian, jumping off the nightstand and hopping onto the bed to nuzzle herself against her distressed mistress, trying to comfort her. More than anything, Lillian wished that the Hessian was there to hold her in his arms and remind her that she was safe.