Chapter 4

As Katrina feared and expected, Ichabod's health grew worse over the next couple of days, the minor sniffle moving quickly to his chest. He coughed so deeply that his entire body shook, and his fever rose steadily. She hired a physician without Ichabod's consent, knowing he would argue against the expense, and Dr. Bangs clucked his tongue at the sight of the younger man laying helpless under the covers.

" 'Tis the grippe, Mrs. Crane," he whispered as they stood in the hall, leaving Young Masbath in charge of Ichabod for the moment. "Quite a bit of that going around these parts. How is the lad coming along? He's not been showing symptoms yet, has he?"

Katrina made certain to keep a close eye on Young Masbath the second Ichabod started going downhill, but so far the boy seemed well enough...just tired and weary.

"He seems all right," Katrina replied, wincing at another bought of coughing from upstairs, and took a deep breath. "Should I sent him away?" She knew the grippe passed quickly from one to the next, and if there was any way to prevent Young Masbath from coming down sick, she would do it.

"It's too late for that now...he's been exposed," Dr. Bangs explained with sigh, "The less the illness spreads the better. Just keep him in doors until Mr. Crane shows signs of improvement, and I'd say at least a good week after...can't be too careful." He began to pack up his belongings and Katrina placed a few coins in his hand.

"Thank you for coming so quickly," she said.

"Nothin' to thank me for...it's my job," Dr. Bangs replied. "Do not let your husband out of bed until the fever breaks under any circumstances."

Katrina knew she would have to take a trip the constabulary herself to speak on Ichabod's behalf...Young Masbath had come home in tears the second morning of Ichabod's absence. That is when the physician's proof of illness had been demanded, and if it was not provided in a timely manner, Constable Crane would be relieved of his duties effective immediately.

"Mama?" Young Masbath came down the stairs, his dark eyes wide, and Katrina looked at him. "Papa is asking for you..."

Dr. Bangs bid his farewell at that very moment, and made Young Masbath promise to notify his family if he felt ill in the least.

"I will, sir," He replied, grateful he had not even a sniffle to complain over, and had not truly been sick for a couple of years.

Katrina went up the narrow staircase to the master bedroom, and found Ichabod tossing and turning under the blankets. She immediately reached for his arm and gripped onto it tightly, gently planting a kiss on his sweat-soaked forehead.

"Katrina..." Ichabod whispered weakly and she sat down in the chair Young Masbath had carried in, keeping her hand attached to his.

"I am here my love...you needn't worry," She soothed and Ichabod's eyes fluttered open.

Young Masbath attempted to focus on his chores, which included cleaning and chopping firewood if needed, but he couldn't help peering at the KNIGHTS OF THE ROUND TABLE left on his master's chair from a few nights before...he'd never gotten around to reading it.

He set the broom against the wall and curled onto Ichabod's chair, fingering the well-worn book in his hands. Simply sitting in Ichabod's chair brought a sense of comfort, and he tried to imagine what they would do together while Katrina prepared dinner. Sometimes Ichabod went through his notes of previous investigations, explaining things as well as he could, or they would play rounds of checkers that would last all night. Young Masbath had gotten to be a champion at the game, and on occasion, allowed his master to win.

"Mouse...could you fetch a couple of rags, and another basin of water? The compress isn't doing enough to bring the fever down, I'm afraid I'm going to have to bathe him entirely..."

Young Masbath nodded and scurried out of the room, tears brimming the corners of his eyes as he fetched one of the spare basins, filling it with fresh, cool water from the pump. He struggled a little under it's weight, but managed to get the water upstairs without spilling a drop. Ichabod's coughing frightened him when he entered the sick room, and Katrina supported him as best as she could.

"Is he going to be all right?" Young Masbath asked as he set the basin by Katrina's feet, and began to dampen the rags with the liquid.

Katrina wanted to tell the child that everything would be all right in the end, but she did not know anymore than he did. The last person she'd seen so ill was her mother, who had died two years prior from a similar fever.

She continued to provide Ichabod with her herbal remedies, though he had difficulty keeping anything down.

"We can only hope he will, Mouse," she replied, and Young Masbath scuffed his shoe against the floor.

"Where does that leave me with the choir this Sunday?" He asked suddenly remembering, and Katrina looked horrified. She'd made such a big deal about the whole thing and hadn't even given it a second thought since Ichabod got sick.

"Perhaps you can still perform for Christmas," She spoke after pondering the issue for a few moments. "It is still two weeks away. I will send a note to Pastor Richards first thing tomorrow to explain, after I stop by Papa's work." She winced at the idea of facing the constabularies, but had no choice in the matter.

"Yes Ma'am..." he murmered, hoping he would get out of it entirely, but did not want to argue.

That evening Young Masbath ate supper alone at the kitchen table, upon making sure Katrina had something as well...she would have forgotten to eat on purpose if he hadn't brought up the issue.

He had another nightmare about the old woman in the woods, the sound of her screams and wails deafening, mixed with rocks cracking, cracking...

Young Masbath jolted awake, sweat pouring down his cheeks, and realized he could still hear the stones...

"Wait..."

He winced at the crack, crack, crack noise, the sound of stone on glass, and realized stones were being tossed at his window.

"Thomas..."

Young Masbath struggled out from his tangle of blankets to approach the window and opened it, shivering as the winter chill struck his skin. He could see his friend standing on the cobblestone street, illuminated by the moonlight.

"What are you doing?" Young Masbath called in a loud whisper, and Thomas waved with a smile on his face, shoving his pants into his trouser pockets.

"Are you able to come out?" He asked, and Young Masbath shook his head, determined not to cause Ichabod any further worry than he already had. It wouldn't be fair to sneak out of the house when his master was too ill to notice.

"I'm sorry...I can't," He explained. "I promised I wouldn't sneak out late anymore...I've gotten into too much trouble already."

Thomas looked surprised by Young Masbath's defiance...usually the younger boy was more than ready for a late adventure through the city.

"We miss you..." Thomas admitted.

"I miss you as well," Young Masbath replied. "My master is quite sick, though, and I need to be here in case he needs me."

"The grippe?" Thomas inquired and Young Masbath blinked in surprise.

"Yes...how did you know?"

"Half the city is down with it...my family thank Jesus has been spared so far..."

Young Masbath nodded in understanding. "I'll come when I can," he promised. "Tell the others I'm sorry."

Thomas saluted Young Masbath before dashing away, and he shut the window, grateful to be out of the cold air.

He sat down on the edge of the bed trembling, and rubbed his hands over his face.

He had told Ichabod about the first dream, much more vivid than this, though the smell of the woods still filled his nose as though he had been physically transported there.

"Impossible," He muttered as he cawled back under the covers, gazing up at the dark ceiling and sighed heavily.

Katrina put Young Masbath in charge of Ichabod the following morning as she went to run her errands, making certains he had the physician's note tucked safely into her pocket.

"Do not be afraid, Mouse," Katrina insisted as Young Masbath stood watching her prepare to leave. "He is quiet now, the cough has eased since the dose of Ipecac. It is the only thing I could use last night to clear his lungs, and it is on the night table if needed."

Young Masbath cringed at the thought of his poor master having to swallow such a horrid medicine, for he had taken it years ago when he suffered the croup.

"You will do just fine, Mouse, I promise," Katrina insisted, squeezing the clearly terrified boy's hand as she made her way out the door.

Katrina knew the way to the Constabulary by heart, as she had gone with Ichabod a number of times while on duty. She always brought him something to eat rather often, wanting to make sure he kept up his strength.

She did not like the high constable one bit, though she was not afraid of him.

Katrina hitched her skirts and walked up the stone steps of the imposing building, her breath coming out in white puffs from the ice cold.

The familiar bangs and screams filled her ears as she pushed the heavy wooden door open.

"May I help you?"

The High Constable's voice was cold and agitated as Katrina met with him at last, after finding her way through the maze of corridors and strange looking rooms.

"I am here to advise that Constable Crane will not be reporting this morning, nor any other until he is fully recovered," She spoke bravely as the white-haired man gave her a hard look.

"And you are?" He questioned and she held her head high.

"His wife...Katrina Crane," She explained and handed him the piece of parchment from Dr. Bangs.

The High Constable adjusted his spectacles and read Dr. Bang's untidy scrawl, murmering to himself as he did so. "I see..." He set the note down and retrieved another document, stepping down from his desk and moving towards her. Katrina stepped backwards for a moment, regretting having sent poor Young Masbath on his own the day before.

"When Constable Crane recovers, you may give him this," He explained and handed Katrina another piece of parchment, much larger than the one she'd presented. "It is the official details o the new assignment I mentioned to him earlier, they have come in and I wish him to take his leave immediately after Christmas."

Katrina accepted the paper gingerly and peered at the contents carefully: The Mayor of Blair Township requests your assistance...

"Seven children have been kidnapped and murdered there within the past couple of weeks," the High Constable explained. "There is a man accused behind bars, but he keeps insisting an old woman told him to do it...there is a legend there about a witch who has control over the forest. I thought your husband would be a perfect fit for this investigation, given his past...experiences."

"You say that in jest," Katrina spoke. "What happened in Sleepy Hollow was quite true, I saw everything for myself. Are you calling me a liar as well? Or my son?" The word 'son' slipped off of her tongue with such ease in description of Young Masbath, that it was startling.

"I am not saying anything, good woman, and I would ask that you not use that tone with me," the High Constable snarled and Katrina balled her hands into fists.

"I find it hard to respect someone who treats my husband in such a fashion," Katrina replied. "Ichabod gave a great deal of assistance to Sleepy Hollow, whether you believe it or not. I am grateful for all he has done. Any town that has Constable Crane's knowledge in their arsenal is a lucky one, I assure you.

With that she turned on her heel and left the building, hot tears filling her eyes with anger. More than once she thought about resigning for her husband, but he loved the job so much that it would have broken his heart.

Katrina had a long chat with Pastor Richards at the church upon arrival, and he was more than understanding about the situation. The choir boys were dropping one by one with the grippe, two had passed into the next life already.

"Your husband will be in my prayers, you can be certain," He said as Katrina crossed herself at the mention of the children's untimely deaths. She feared for Young Masbath's health day in and day out, though as long as she had known the boy, it took quite a bit to knock him flat.

"Thank you very much," She replied.

Along the journey home, Katrina was met with a woman selling kittens on the sidewalk, smiling despite the fact that she looked half frozen.

"Might I have a look?" Katrina asked curiously and she peered into the heavily insulated basket. Nestled inside were a mixture of black, white, and orange striped tabby cats, and the lady explained they had been born six weeks earlier.

"We would keep them but it is simply too much," She said.

Katrina knew Young Masbath would adore a pet of his own to keep him company, and much to the stranger's delight, purchased a pure black kitten with a bell around its neck. "He will have a good home," She insisted and the woman nodded with approval.

"Thank you, my dear...and Merry Christmas," She said.

Katrina carried the tiny animal home at once, her heart melting at the small yellow eyes peering directly into hers the entire way.

"You will be quite safe with us," She insisted. "Perhaps we may take you along to Maryland. It will make the trip less painful, I think..."

She opened the front door with one hand and was pleased to hear that peace and quiet still reigned.

She carried the kitten up the narrow staircase to the sick room, and found Young Masbath sitting by the bed, where he had fallen asleep in his chair.

Ichabod's chest continued to move up and down much to her relief, though he occasionally stirred and made a restless noise.

"Mouse?"

Katrina gave the boy's shoulder a gentle shake and Young Masbath blinked his eyes open, looking weary.

"I'm sorry...I must've fallen asleep," He admitted sheepishly. He noticed the kitten and his eyes lit up at once. "A kitten!" he whispered and she led him into the hallway so they would not disturb Ichabod. "Where did you find him?" He allowed Katrina to set the animal into his arms and giggled softly when it licked the tip of his nose.

"I thought it would make an early Christmas present for you," Katrina replied. "A woman was selling kittens on the way home, and I could not resist. I do believe you had a cat once before, did you not?"

Young Masbath nodded...his mother had owned a cat, who had lived to a ripe old age before passing.

"What did Papa's employer say when you told them about his illness?" He asked after thanking her many times for the gift, and they went down to prepare a cup of ginger tea.

"They accepted Dr. Bangs' note," Katrina replied, "But they want us to leave for Maryland after Christmas..."

Young Masbath closed his eyes for a moment, wishing the idea of a new assignment had been all part of a dream.

"Do you know much about it?" He asked after he set down a small container of milk for Whiskers, the name he had given the cat, onto the floor.

Katrina hated to mention the details of what sounded like such a horrific case to the thirteen year old, but Young Masbath had been through quite a bit already with the Headless Horseman in Sleepy Hollow. His own father had been murdered by the Hessian.

"Seven children were killed recently," Katrina replied and Young Masbath's face paled. "There is a man they have arrested, but he keeps insisting he didn't do it...an old woman did..."

An old woman...

Young Masbath felt suddenly faint and had to lean against the wall for a moment before he passed out.

"Mouse...are you all right?" Katrina was at his side in a moment, and immediately felt his forehead for any sign of fever.

"Did you say...an old woman?" He choked and she nodded, wide-eyed.

"Yes...what on earth is the matter?" Katrina squeezed Young Masbath's arm. "Please, sit down, talk to me."

Young Masbath sat at once with a soft 'thud', and took a deep breath. "The nightmares I've been having..." he began slowly. "An old woman in the woods...accused of witchcraft...left there to die..."

Katrina's eyes widened even further if possible. "What?" She asked.

"They started not long after we moved here," He admitted. "I don't know why...I just know I've had them."

Katrina sat down beside the child and prepared to answer when she heard a thump from upstairs.

"Papa..."

Young Masbath was off like a shot faster than she, and found Ichabod laying on the hallway floor.

"Ichabod!" Katrina got down on her knees beside her husband's unconscious form, and flipped him over, gently tapping his fever flushed cheek. "Ichabod, love, please wake up..."

Ichabod groaned after a few seconds and peered into her eyes. "Where am I?" He asked and she eased him carefully into a sitting position.

"You're safe at home love," She insisted. "What were you doing in the hallway?"

"Needed to use...privy, but I s'ppose I fainted..."

Katrina glanced at Young Masbath who had tears falling down his face. "I'm so sorry my dear...I was about to bring you some tea. Let us get up back into bed, after we change your linens. Mouse, will you finish setting up dowstairs? We will speak later, I promise..."

Later...

Young Masbath had heard that before.

"I will, Mama," He replied and hurried quickly down the steps.

.