Horseman by Christina Henry

Author:Christina Henry
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Titan Books

10

At first I thought to go about on my own as I’d done the day before, but then I realized Katrina had a good idea (she was suddenly full of them) and went to find Sander. My head was whirling with everything I’d learned and I wanted somebody to talk to. I couldn’t tell him everything, of course—I’d take the secret of Brom and the Headless Horseman prank to my grave—but I could tell him some things, about Justus Smit and the sheep and about the creature I’d seen in the woods.

The road to the village was busy. Many people who had farms near ours were taking their harvest to market, or bringing it to one of the many wholesalers who would buy the crop and resell it in New York City. Several carts trundled past me, pulled by slow-moving horses, and many people shouted my name and asked after Brom and Katrina. I was glad for the constant stream of company, for it kept me from thinking too hard about the woods I walked past—and the things that were hidden there.

I was halfway to the village when one of the carts slowed beside me.

“Can I give you a ride, Miss Bente?”

It was Henrik Janssen. Why was Henrik Janssen suddenly everywhere? Before the last few days I saw him perhaps a few times a year, despite the fact that his farm was next to ours. He was around thirty years old—close to the age that my father would have been had Bendix lived—and had very light blue eyes in a weather-beaten face. His shirtsleeves were rolled up and I could see the muscles in his forearms.

He gave me a strangely intent look that made my stomach squirm. I did not want to climb onto the seat next to this man.

“No, thank you,” I said, and gave him my best Katrina smile, the one that was polite and full of teeth but never reached her eyes. “It’s such a beautiful day and I’m enjoying the walk.”

“You’re certain?” he asked. “What with Cristoffel and Justus, I’d think it would be safer if you were with me.”

I don’t, I thought, and I only just managed to avoid saying it aloud.

“I think it’s perfectly safe for me to walk to the village in the daylight,” I said. “Thank you, Mynheer Janssen.”

My tone was very final. He couldn’t make me ride with him, short of climbing down and throwing me in the cart, and if I saw him move I was going to run.

He gave me a long look and I stared right back at him. A Van Brunt never shows fear, but I wondered what he was thinking. His eyes gave away nothing.

His eyes are like Schuler de Jaager’s eyes, I thought. Exactly the same. Full of things he doesn’t want me to know.

Finally he nodded and clicked his tongue at the horse, and the cart moved on. I watched it go, lingering on the side of the road for a few moments so that the cart would get ahead of me.

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