Chapter 11 The Headless Horseman
THE HEADLESS HORSEMAN
He does not wish to watch, but he must.
The Headless Horseman holds her thrashing body close.
Despite her gaunt frame, there is something comforting about having her close.
A dormant part of him stirs at the sensation, and he growls at it.
There is no place for tenderness here. He will not enjoy her warmth—not allow it to stir long dormant memories—all of this is a means to an end.
And her end has come at last.
After she witnesses her atrocities and confesses to her treachery, she will beg for his forgiveness. He will not give it. The only salvation he will offer her in the end is death. May her soul be tormented for eternity for what she has done.
It is only fair after all. She brought about his end, and now he will bring about hers.
Scarlett’s struggling ceases as the fog around them swirls. The dense mist ripples in the dark dungeon, expanding farther than should be possible. There in the darkness, it finally recedes. From inside the fog, the red-haired man, Krane, appears.
Dirt streaks his clothing and hair as he navigates through the dark woods. He gracefully jumps over large boulders and dodges behind sturdy trees. Krane hunts for the pumpkin head. His quest is as futile as it is earnest. All of this to win his lover’s hand, what a fool he had been.
Krane was so absorbed in his task that he didn’t hear them approach. Not until it was too late, his fate sealed in the Whispering Woods. The harbingers of his death linger for a moment, watching his useless search with thin-veiled amusement.
The Headless Horseman swallows his growl. There is no use in trying to change the past. What’s done is done.
Earl Richard Crest, Duke Marc of Greenbrooke, and his son Bram linger at the treeline. Krane finally realizes there is an audience behind him. Setting down a large rock, he wipes his filthy palm on the threadbare material of his pants.
“What are you doing here?” he asks. “I thought I had until dawn.”
The Headless Horseman grinds his teeth together.
The earnestness in the man’s green eyes is unparalleled.
There is no apprehension—no distrust. His kind nature had been his undoing.
If only he had been wary of this family—of her—fled when he had the chance, everything would’ve been different.
He was a fool to think himself special. No one goes against the Crest family and lives to tell about it.
Richard Crest steps forward, the other two men tight behind him, gloved hands resting on their sword hilts.
Only then does Krane pause and narrow his eyes.
Run, the horseman urges, leave while you still can.
Krane does nothing but stare at the man he once considered a father.
The patriarch of the only family he had ever known—the man he wished to call his father-in-law someday.
Scarlett’s breathing picks up. Soft tendrils of her hair tickle his face. She’s gone whiter than a sheet. Finally, she realizes what’s about to happen and understands the sins she will have to answer for.
“I thought so, too.” Richard’s eyes harden. “Until I received an alarming update.”
Krane’s red brows pull low. The three men stand just before him.
Their eyes glow like serpents ready to strike.
They’ll end an innocent man in pursuit of their greed.
He should’ve known she was just like them, had only been kidding himself that she was somehow different.
One cannot be raised in cruelty and expected to become a saint.
Her soul is just as twisted as theirs, no matter how perfectly it fits with his own.
“My daughter was informed of your offer of marriage. When I told her of our bargain to gain her hand, she was…disturbed.”
A broken sob cracks from Scarlett’s lips. The Headless Horseman tries not to grin in satisfaction at her despair.
“She lamented that while she possessed some form of childhood affection towards you, it had come to an end. Whatever was once between the two of you, she wishes to be over. Her desire now, above all else, is to be united with Earl Bram.”
“No,” Scarlett whispers.
He gazes down at her pale face. Tears stain her cheeks. A pretty convincing performance, though now he recognizes that she was always a compelling actress. So much so that Krane is stunned at her father’s words. He blinks a few times as if not registering what the other man has declared.
“You see, she wants someone who can provide her with the life she is accustomed to. Wealth and comfort—something you wouldn’t understand, my boy.”
Color splashes across Krane’s freckled cheeks. He shakes his head, even as he stumbles back as if in a daze.
“No—no, that can't be. She loves me. She told me—”
Earl Richard digs deep into his pocket and produces a carefully folded note. The sight of it makes the Headless Horseman snarl. He extends the parchment to Krane, who takes it in his trembling hand.
“It is all right here if you don’t believe me. Signed by her and everything.”
A weak protest slips from Scarlett’s lips. She has gone completely limp in his arms. Now that her treachery has been revealed, there is nothing left to do but succumb to her own betrayal.
Green eyes roam over the delicate parchment.
Tears collect on Krane’s lower lashline, but he blinks them away, not wishing to show weakness.
The letter has its intended effect. From here, the Headless Horseman watches the young man’s heart shatter in his chest. He can still feel the jagged edges of it puncturing through his skin.
“I still don’t understand.” Krane’s voice is barely above a whisper.
“Women are fickle, my dear boy. Surely you recognize her handwriting. This is no trick.”
And recognize her handwriting, he does. With trembling hands, Krane refolds the parchment paper, tucking it into his pocket. Why he kept it, he still doesn’t know. One last keepsake from her, he supposes.
“If this is what she wants, then I will go at once.”
Scarlett shudders in his arms. Glistening tears spill down her neck and soak the ribbon around her throat. She begins to shake violently. Teeth clatter with each broken sob.
Richard sighs and shakes his head.
“I’m afraid it’s not that simple.” The other two men come up to flank him, ready to cut Krane down. “An alarming report that you have spoiled my daughter has reached the duke and his son. If that is the case, then payment must be taken. In whatever form her intended demands.”
The Headless Horseman has to scoff. There was no report. Earl Richard had caught the two of them nearly a month before. He hadn’t cared for the rumors swirling about his daughter and Krane until it would somehow impede the money the duke was willing to give him.
Then retribution had to be taken.
To his credit, Earl Bram looks bored. The hand on his dagger is loosely wrapped. He merely shrugs as the other two men look towards him.
“Let the poor bastard go. I care very little about fucking a virgin on her wedding day.”
Duke Marc growls at his son.
“Your flippant attitude is unbecoming.” His blue eyes bore into Richard’s. “We seek the stable boy’s head as payment.”
“No!”
Both Krane and Scarlett scream the word in tandem. The Headless Horseman ensures her eyes are open. She will bear witness to everything that comes next.
“Please, sir. I beg you. I’ve been with your family for years. I’ve been loyal, I’ve—”
“Hush, dear boy,” Richard coos. “It will all be over soon.”
Quick as lightning, Earl Richard Crest unsheathes his dagger and embeds it into Krane’s abdomen with a sickening squelch. Scarlett screams in his arms, thrashing against his hold. Krane huffs in pain, clutching his stomach as Richard removes the blade now coated in crimson.
Duke Marc appears behind Krane as he staggers back.
He wastes no time tripping the younger man and kicking him into the dirt.
Krane groans and grunts at each sharp pounding of the duke’s steel-toed boot.
Once both of his green eyes begin to swell, the duke bends down and hefts him onto his feet.
His deadweight is cumbersome, but somehow the duke manages.
“Do it, Bram. Sink your blade into him.”
“Father, is this really ne—”
“Do it!”
Rolling his eyes, Earl Bram stalks behind the bleeding Krane. Unsheathing his ornate dagger, he embeds it into the man’s back. His screams echo throughout the woods. Birds and creatures take refuge in the surrounding trees to hide from the mutilation.
“Good,” the duke purrs, releasing Krane.
He stumbles forward a step, miraculously still on his feet. Trying to open his swelling eyes is useless. Blood pours from his nose and mouth. The wound to his stomach weeps through his open hands. Krane carries the scent of death with him. He already looks more like a monster than a man.
Earl Richard unsheathes his sword—the silver metal glints in the moonlight.
“Krane!” Scarlett screeches, trying to reach for him.
The Headless Horseman snarls at her. How dare she pretend to care now? It was her words that caused all of this. Her fictitious love sent him to his death as certain as if she stabbed him herself.
“His head, my lord.”
With one mighty swing, his sword whistles through the air and cleaves Krane’s head from his shoulders in one blow.
His body collapses into a pile of bent limbs.
Blood spurts from the gaping hole in his neck.
Scarlett screams, her voice sharp as nails.
Over and over she shrieks as his head rolls away.
Eyes still cracked open and staring up at her.
She thrashes and bucks, but it is of no use.
They watch as her father kicks his head back over to nestle beside Krane’s fallen body. The three men return to each other’s sides before turning towards their horses
“She’ll go looking for him tomorrow. We’ll leave the body here for her to find.” Earl Richard shakes his head. “This is all her doing after all.”
“No,” Scarlett chokes. “No, no, no.”
“Yes,” the Headless Horseman snarls.