Lloyd and I were the only ones, with the exception of Valen, who didn’t dress up for the harvest festival. The first day’s style was based on the actual harvest. So people were to dress up in very modest and humble attire. Lloyd and I kept our ranger cloaks over our usual garb, so we managed some kind of common look with the locals.
The farmhands worked especially hard to finish their dues for today. The harvest festival was something that people didn’t want to miss. Crossroads had a similar celebration but didn’t last so long. People came out onto the streets and drank as much booze as their bodies could handle... and then some.
But things were different in Sleepy Hollow. The celebrations took place right outside of town, with tables of fruit and pastries. I was weak, so I went and helped myself. It had been awhile since I had tasted a decent baked good. It must have been six or seven months since I even had a whiff of them. It was only during my moment of happiness did I notice Abraham Van Brunt standing next to me.
“You ranger folk aren’t so sneaky out in the open,” the bigger man said to me.
“We’ll see about that, Van Brunt,” I challenged. I felt a little bit bigger when I said that. Unfortunately, Van Brunt’s size made my small success even smaller. “Its bad luck to upset a ranger.”
“I make my own luck,” he replied.
“That remains to be proven,” I said. “Besides, if you haven’t heard already, us ranger folk took on the old Headless Horseman.”
“Right... ” Van Brunt grunted. He clinched the side of his back for a second. Strange. But it looked like he didn’t want me to see that, so he walked away. Good, I needed to keep an eye on Mr. Crane anyway. We would have to confront each other again, that much was for sure. When, I didn’t know.
Off in the distance, on the other side of the crowd of festivities-goers, I saw Lloyd who was observing his part of the scene. Our eyes met and we gave each other a nod for the all-clear sign. Hiding in the middle of a crowd wasn’t so different from hiding in a forest. There were vantage points, places that could let one see others, but not necessarily be seen. Others were blind spots. I tried eliminating those as best as I could, so I could see as much as possible. I had to be the eagle, the one who could see everything around him and swoop down when need be.
By now I was the eagle, ready to swoop down on all I saw. I was the deer, moving with great speed, always on the alert. I was the bear, ready to unleash my wrath. But was I the wolf? Was I truly the predator Degamux had raised me and nine others to be? I realized that this was my test to see if I really could become the wolf. I had all the training I needed to succeed. I had motive, Mr. Crane’s safety on the stake. I just needed to get to my inner predator. I needed to ready myself for a hunt. Abraham Van Brunt and his friends were to be my prey.
I waited in the crowd, patiently awaited when Van Brunt or one of his colleagues crossed into my line of sight. It wasn’t long before I saw one of them move in. I did my best not to draw attention to myself, but he was already on the search and on the move. Mr. Crane was to be our bait, but we had him secured elsewhere. Now we were just dealing with the small game.
Sticking to the shadows set by the already-setting sun, I tailed one of his friends from the tavern. I was careful not to step on any loose branches or twigs that would snap underfoot. That would have easily give me away, but the material in my boots made me light-footed. I was silent, more of a predator than I had originally thought of myself to be.
The commotion of people celebrating nearby gave me the perfect opportunity to move in on Van Brunt’s man. I was behind him when I struck, pulling him the neck and gagging him before he could scream. In a traditional confrontation, his size and strength would have made any kind of assault impossible, but with me coming from behind, his strength would not have counted for much. I held a chokehold until I felt him pass out under my vice-grip. I dragged him out of sight and behind some crates. For insurance and to buy time, I hog-tied him and put a blanket over him. He was too heavy for me to carry out of the harvest festival without being seen, so taking him down then and there was the only option.
I got back to my position to see if Lloyd had made any progress. I looked around from my vantage point, but couldn’t see him until he walked out from behind a tree and some tall brush. Perfect. He nodded back to me. We were two for two. Abraham Van Brunt was down what we thought was all of his friends, until we saw him go down through the center of the celebrations.
I looked back to Lloyd who nodded, showing that he had seen him as well. I wasn’t sure how we should approach this. There were two of us, which may have been just enough to subdue him, but it would take a while to actually get him down. He was big and burly, but not necessarily if we approached him from behind or from somewhere he wasn’t expecting us.
Signaling for Lloyd to meet up with me, I moved in closer to his side. In moments, we were within speaking distance.
“He’s got to have another guy somewhere,” Lloyd said. I hadn’t thought of that. That may just make things harder. “But he’s got awhile before he figures out where Ichabod is. So that’s our timetable.”
“Right, how do you think we should approach this?” I asked. Lloyd began drawing out a layout or plan of the harvest festival.
“Here’s us,” he said, pointing to two pebbles on top of the dirt. He then point to larger rock. “And there’s him. If Van Brunt stays here in the center, we can just wait him out.”
“It would be easier to see where he’s coming from if he moves on us without the cover of the harvest festival,” I commented, seeing how the strategy was working out, at least for the most part. “You’re a genius, Lloyd. But how do we know if he has another guy looking for Mr. Crane right now?”
“I don’t, which is why we’ll need to split up,” he answered. He then moved on small pebble to the larger rock that represented Van Brunt, and another to where Mr. Crane’s position was. “One of us will keep the big goon distracted while the other keeps an eye on Ichabod.”
“You go and watch out for Mr. Crane,” I said, deciding I would go take on Van Brunt. We were going to have a rematch for the last time we confronted each other. That was over a week ago, and he was drunk then. I was eager to see how he would fare sober.
“Alright, I’ll head over there now,” Lloyd said, kicking up the battle plan. “You’re sure you gonna be okay with him?”
“I’ve got it handled,” I remarked. I glanced over to where Van Brunt was, over by the collection of drinks that were available for people to drink I swore I saw children younger than me taking a swig of the ale. “He and I have a score to settle.”
