THE LEGEND OF GOTHAM HOLLOW


Prologue
A solitary rider slowly made his way along the narrow path
through the woods north of the small township of Gotham. With every
step his mount took, the rider became more and more certain that he
was being followed. Under the pretense of checking his saddlebags, he
let his eyes wander to the mist-shrouded trees on either side of the
path. Seeing nothing, he continued on his way, despite the fact that
he couldn't shake the feeling that someone, or something, was out
there.

He had made this trip during both the day and the night, and in
all types of weather, yet, never had he felt such uneasiness. Up
ahead he saw the trees beginning to thin and knew that home wasn't
too far away. He could almost picture Molly waiting at the door and
little Jennie running to meet him. He hated leaving home, but after
the War of Independence, Colonel Alan Scott was drawn into politics
and had to spend much of his time in Philadelphia. Tonight, however,
he was returning home for the last time, his days of government
service through.

"Come on, Obsidian," he said to his faithful horse, "we're
almost there."

As he patted Obsidian's neck, he noticed the horse's ears perk
up. To him, there was no more certain sign that he was being
followed. Many times during the war his life had been saved by simply
watching the actions of his mount. He flicked the reins and touched
his spurs to Obsidian's flanks.

"Hi-yah."

With a surge of energy, Obsidian broke into a run. Colonel Scott
was amazed at the power his mount still possessed. It had been nearly
twelve years since he had first ridden into combat with his steed,
but the horse showed no notice of its advancing years.

Despite the speed with which his mount moved, the Colonel soon
heard the thundering hooves of his pursuer. He risked a glance
backwards, knowing Obsidian would stay true to the path. At first, he
saw nothing. Suddenly, a mounted figure burst from the thick mists
that had swallowed the road behind him.

Riding a steed blacker than even his own Obsidian, his pursuer
rode after him with unnatural speed, like a creature possessed. There
was very little in this world that the Colonel feared, even in the
savageness of battle he was symbol of courage, but his eyes widened
in terror at the sight of the fiend drawing ever closer.

He recognized, immediately, the outfit his pursuer wore; he had
seen it several times during the war. It was that which was worn by
the typical Hessian mercenary. Clinched tightly in each fist was the
saber they favored, each raised high and poised to strike. This
sight, in itself, was not what struck the cords of fear. What
unnerved the Colonel was the fact that his hunter was headless.

Sensing his master's terror, Obsidian surged forward running
with a speed born of desperation. So focused was his mount on getting
him home safely that the faithful animal did not immediately notice
his load lighten. Once Obsidian realized something had happened, he
looked back to see his master laying in the road, his mounted killer
standing over him. Colonel Scott had always bragged about how
intelligent his mount was, and today was no exception. The ebony
horse turned its head back towards home and ran with ever bit of
strength that was in it.

Chapter 1
Constable Joseph Chill opened the door to his home to find a
frantic Molly Scott standing on his porch supported by her daughter,
Jennie. He stepped aside to allow them to enter. The women stepped
inside to find that the constable was not alone.

"Oh, Bruce," Jennie said, "we are so glad you are here as well."

"What's the matter?" Bruce Wayne asked as he and Joseph took
Mrs. Scott by the arms and led her to a nearby couch. Molly Scott
could do nothing but sob, so her daughter began to explain the reason
for her mother's distress.

"Father was supposed to be home hours ago," Jennie said. "I've
tried to tell Mother that he has simply been delayed somewhere along
the way, but she swears that something has happened."

"Something terrible has happened; I can feel it," Molly sobbed.

"Don't worry, Mrs. Scott," Joseph said as he patted the older
woman's shoulder. "I'll ride out and see if I can find him. I'm
certain everything is okay."

"I'll ride with you," Bruce said. "If you ladies will excuse me,
I'll go prepare my horse and let Selina know I'm leaving."

Jennie followed Bruce to the door.

"I'll send Selina over to help you keep your mother company.
Maybe she can help keep her mind on other things," Bruce said as he
opened the door.

"Thank you," Jennie said.

As Bruce stepped out onto the porch, he heard someone
frantically calling his name. He turned to see Jason Blood running
down the road.

"Jason," Bruce said as he went to meet his friend, "what's
wrong?"

The man took a deep breath before speaking. "Get Joseph and tell
him he's needed at Edward's place."

"Well, what's wrong?" Bruce asked again.

"This is bad, Bruce," Jason said. "This is really bad."

Bruce went back inside as Jason turned around and ran back down
the road.

"Jennie," he said as he walked up to Joseph, "take your mother
over to my place. We'll let you know when we find anything out."

"What's the matter?" Joseph asked.

"I just met Jason outside. He said you're needed over at
Edward's. He didn't say why, just that it was important."

As Jennie led her mother to the door, she looked at the two men
with concern. She had a bad feeling and neither man could offer any
comfort.

Joseph led the way and the two men were soon on their way to
Edward's place. Although Gotham Township was not a very large place,
it took them almost a quarter of an hour of walking to reach their
destination. They were still several houses away when they saw Jason
and Edward standing in the yard holding the reins of a large black
horse. There were three other men with them.

"I've got a bad feeling in my bones, Bruce," Joseph said as they
drew ever nearer.

"That's Obsidian," Bruce replied.

As they entered Edward's yard, Bruce Wayne nodded a grim
greeting to each of the five men. They returned the gesture. Bruce,
ever vigilant, made a mental note of all that were present.

Aside from Joseph, Jason, and himself, Bruce identified Harvey
Dent, Jonathan Crane, Oliver Queen, and their "host", Edward Nigma.
Looks like a Dark Knights reunion. If Charles and James were here,
our little company would be complete.

"What are you doing with Obsidian?" Joseph asked Edward.

"He come running through town like all the demons of Hell were
hot on his tail. If I hadn't got his attention, he probably would
have kept running. When he recognized me, he came straight to me."
Edward patted the big black stallion on the neck.

"Obsidian always was a smart horse," Harvey commented.

"Wonder what spooked him?" Oliver asked. "I've seen him carry
the Colonel into a squad of Hessians armed to the teeth and act like
he's out for a morning trot."

At the mention of Hessians, Obsidian tried to rear and would
have bolted if Jason hadn't have had a firm grip on the reins. "I
don't know what you said, Oliver, but something about set this horse
to running again."

"Jason, I think it would be best if you took Obsidian home,"
Joseph said. "We'll gather our horses and ride out to see if we can
find any sign of the Colonel."

"What about Mrs. Scott?" Jason asked. "I'd hate to upset her by
bringing her husband's mount home with an empty saddle."

Bruce spoke up. "Jennie took her to my house. Selina is helping
her look after her mother."

Jason was about to lead Obsidian away when Jonathan grabbed the
reins. "Wait a minute. Look here on the stirrup."

Joseph knelt down to see what had caught his friend's attention.

"Blood."

The silence of dread persisted for several moments before Joseph
finally spoke. "I think we need to talk to James."

The others agreed.

"Jason, meet us at Mayor Gordon's after you take care of
Obsidian," Joseph told him. "Jonathan."

"Yes?"

"Fetch Charles. He will probably want to know what has happened."

After the two men left to take care of their appointed tasks,
those who remained started off to see the mayor.

Mayor James Gordon paced back and forth, each step a testament
to his frustration. He paused and looked at those assembled with him
in his library. "Who knows of this?"

"So far?" Joseph asked. "Just us."

"How soon until you can begin searching for the body?"

War had made these men realists. They knew that Obsidian
wouldn't leave his master's side if he still drew a breath.

"Bruce and I were planning on riding out to find the Colonel
when Jason arrived. I think it would be best if we at least searched
the immediate area tonight; we can begin broadening our search come
morning."

"How are we going to break the news to Mrs. Scott?" Edward asked.

"I'll tell her," Bruce volunteered.

"Even though the war's over, we're still the Dark Knights,"
Harvey said. "I think we should all go."

"I agree," Oliver added. "There isn't a one of us who doesn't
owe it to the Colonel and Mrs. Scott for our being here today."

"I guess since we're a democracy now, we listen to the majority."

"Well put, Charles," the mayor said. "Who all agrees?"

Each man, in turn, nodded his consent.

"I guess that settles it, then. As soon as we break the news to
his family, we will begin searching."

Chapter 2
"I've given her something to help her sleep," Katherine Kane
said. "What about you, Miss Jennie? You look like you could use some
rest as well."

"No, thank you," Jennie replied. "I need to stay awake in case
they find Father's...." She had to choke back a sob before she could
continue. "...In case they find his body."

Selina Wayne put her arm around the younger woman's
shoulder. "Try to lie down and rest. We'll wake when the men come
back."

Although she continued to protest, Selina eventually convinced
Jennie to, at least, sit down and quit pacing. As she settled into
the chair, Katherine slid a hot cup of tea into her hands. Jennie
began to sip the warm liquid and, almost immediately, she felt her
body began to relax. She smiled at Katherine, letting the woman know
she was aware of whatever was mixed into her tea. By the time the cup
was empty, Jennie was slowly sliding into a restful sleep.

"Thank you for coming," Selina told Katherine as she removed the
empty cup and saucer from the sleeping Jennie's hands.

"When Dr. McNider, Charles, sent word telling me what had
happened, I gathered what herbs I had and hurried over as soon as I
could."

Selina laughed lightly. "Charles is a knowledgeable doctor, but
he seems to be at a loss when it comes to dealing with women."

As the two women left the room, Bruce and Selina's young
daughter, Helena, met them in the hall.

"Honey," Selina said as she knelt down picked the five-year old
up, "you should be asleep."

"I'm afwaid."

"Sweetheart," Selina told her, "there's nothing to be afraid of."

"I heard Miss Jennie's momma crying, and Miss Jennie, too.
Somefing has happened to her daddy."

Katherine reached up and stroked the child's long dark
hair. "Selina, do you want me to give her something to help her
sleep? I can cut it enough to make her drowsy; she'll be asleep in no
time."

"That's okay, Katherine." Selina hugged her daughter close. "I'll
just hold her until she falls asleep."

Katherine could tell that it would probably do her friend more
good to hold her child, anyway.

Chapter 3
The Dark Knights had thought they could handle anything after
living through the horrors of war, but the sight that was before them
made their blood run cold. Propped against a gnarled oak tree was the
headless body of their beloved Colonel. Although the head was
missing, there was no mistaking the identity of the corpse. Placed in
the cold hands of their friend was the old, battered signal lantern
that Colonel Scott carried.

Painted green as new spring grass, the Colonel's lantern had
become a symbol of hope to the Continental Army, and earned the boys
from Gotham Township a second nickname. It was a nickname they had
worn with pride.

"The good Lord's a-smilin' on us, boys. Here comes the Green
Lantern Corps."

Many good men found the will to carry on the fight after hearing
those words. Although their company was small, when word got around
that Colonel Alan Scott and his men had entered the battle, it lit a
fire under their fellow soldiers.

"So, Midnight, what do you think?" Oliver asked, referring to
his friend by the nickname he had earned during the war.

"Well," Charles said as he stood up from examining the body, "I
would say that the head was removed in one stroke."

"How did you reach that conclusion?" Bruce asked.

Charles pointed to the neck. "It's too clean a cut. If it had
taken more than one cut, the wound would be a whole lot messier."

James walked over to his horse and retrieved a large wool
blanket. He returned to the body and handed the blanket to
Harvey. "Let's wrap the Colonel up and get him back to town."

As the men carried the body of their friend home, few words were
spoken. They were nearing town when they heard the sounds of a rider
coming hard from somewhere behind them. Jason, who rode at the back
of the grim procession, turned to see who approached. A saber severed
his head from his neck in one swing just as his eyes had focused on
his attacker. Before the others could react, the murderer disappeared
into the woods.

Oliver was the first to recover his wits and begin the chase;
Jonathan and Joseph were hot on his heels. Bruce reigned in his
horse, dismounted, and rushed back to the body of his fallen friend.
As the others gathered around the body of Jason Blood, Oliver,
Joseph, and Jonathan chased the killer deeper into the North Woods.

While Joseph and Jonathan readied their pistols, Oliver had
drawn a bow and began stringing it. The three men paid no attention
to the fact that they were traveling at almost a full gallop; the war
had prepared them for combat regardless of the situation. They rode
hard for several minutes before Oliver called a halt.

"Lost him," he grumbled.

"Did either of you get a good look at him?" Joseph asked.

"Not really," Oliver answered. "How about you, Scarecrow?"

Jonathan said nothing for several seconds. When he finally
decided to speak, one word was all he said. "Headless."

"But that just isn't possible," Harvey was saying as the three
pursuers rejoined their companions.

"What?" Joseph asked.

"Edward swears that the attacker had no head," Bruce said.

Oliver looked at Jonathan. "Scarecrow said the same thing."

As the Dark knights began to speculate on the possibility of
a "Headless Horseman", Bruce set himself to the task of preparing
Jason's body for transport back to town. Wrapping the corpse in his
own cloak, he located the head and placed it with the body.

"I could use a little assistance," he said once he was ready to
put the body on Jason's horse.

Harvey walked over to aid Bruce.

"What a superstitious lot," Bruce said as they draped Jason's
body across the saddle. "This is the work of a man, flesh and blood,
like you or me."

"But we saw him with our own eyes, Bruce."

"What we saw," Bruce said, "was what the killer wanted us to
see." He turned to his friend. "What's next, Harvey? Tell me, what
are we going to believe next?"

Harvey Dent was at a loss for words.

"There are certain tribes of Indians that believe in a race of
bat-men," Bruce continued. "Perhaps a bat-man will decide to take up
residence and make Gotham his home."

The two men stared at each other in silence as the others
gathered around. Finally, Bruce spoke.

"I apologize, Harvey. I guess these murders have me a little on
edge."

Harvey patted his friend on the shoulder. "Don't let it bother
you. We're all shaken up by what we've witnessed. I guess it is just
easier to lay the blame on a "Headless Horseman" than to believe one
person could actually do something like this to another."

Every man's weapon was drawn and loaded as they returned to
Gotham.

Harvey and Jonathan led Jason's horse home. Although they
dreaded having to face Molly and Jennie Scott with the terrible news;
they were a little saddened by the fact that, other than themselves,
there was no one to mourn Jason's passing. The two men let themselves
into their friend's home and carried his body into his bedroom.
Unsure of what they should do with his severed head, they place it,
still wrapped up, on the bed next to Jason. Once they made certain
that the house was secure, they met up with the rest of their friends
at Scott Manor.

As agreed, the company that had once served proudly under
Colonel Alan Scott returned to the home of Bruce Wayne to break the
horrible news to his family. Along the way, Oliver stopped and told
his wife, Dinah, of the terrible events. She dressed hurriedly and
accompanied the men the rest of the way.

Selina Wayne opened the front door and knew immediately that the news
was not good. Katherine was still there and, upon seeing the men and
Dinah enter, took the sleeping Helena to bed and went to wake Jennie
and her mother.

While Katherine was away, Bruce quickly related what they found,
and what had happened on the way home. To her credit, Selina
maintained her composure, not wanting to further upset the Scott's
when they came downstairs.

Despite the herbs that Katherine had mixed into her tea, Jennie
was awake almost immediately when the older woman touched her
shoulder. The tears that rimmed Katherine's eyes told the girl that
things were as she had feared. Bravely, she walked over to where her
mother lay sleeping. Lightly, she gave her a shake.
"Mother," she called softly, "you need to wake up."

When Molly did not respond to her daughter's voice, Katherine
produced a small bundle from her apron pocket. When she unwrapped it,
Jennie caught the pungent aroma of wild garlic. Katherine knelt down
and held the garlic beneath Molly's nose. Molly opened her eyes,
still red from all of the crying she had done, and looked at her
daughter.

Although somewhat calmer than she was before her rest, silent
tears began to roll down her cheeks when she saw the look in her
daughter's eyes. "He's dead," was all she said.


Chapter 4
Unable to sleep, and unwilling to go home, the men retired to
Bruce's study. What had began as a planning session to determine how
best to bring the killer to justice, soon turned to reminiscing of
the men they had called "friends".

* * * * *

Oliver Queen stood silent, an arrow notched and drawn, awaiting
the signal to fire. He stared down the length of the shaft at the
Hessian sentry standing on the perimeter of the cornfield, wondering
if the man knew he only had a few minutes left to live. Off to his
left he heard the angry cry of a wildcat and let the arrow fly. The
German mercenary dropped wordlessly to the ground, his last thought
was that of curiosity, wondering where the arrow in his chest had
come from. The archer held a hand up to his mouth and loosed a couple
hoots like a barn owl.

Upon hearing the call of the owl, the field's resident scarecrow
slowly reached inside his tattered coat and withdrew a pistol. He
pointed the weapon at the head of the Hessian commander and fired.
The officer pitched forward while blood and gore splattered the men
closest to him.

Although they were some of the finest trained soldiers in the
world, the Hessians were caught unawares by the sudden attack. The
men scrambled to grab their own rifles as the rest of the Dark
Knights charged into the clearing from every side.

The men made a valiant effort of trying to accomplish some kind
of defense, but Jason Blood was suddenly in their midst. The man was
everywhere, dealing death and living up to his nickname of "The
Demon". The rest of the men in his company still found it hard to
believe that the quiet Gothamite could become so savage when facing
the enemy. As the Hessians fought to stay out of the way of "The
Demon", the Dark Knights found them to be easy targets, picking them
off almost at their leisure.

The battle appeared to be nearly won when, without warning, a
Hessian came charging out of the corn and into the clearing. Just as
Bruce Wayne had him in his sights and was prepared to fire, the
Hessian reached up and gave his beard a tugged. The sergeant lowered
his weapon and called out to the rest of the men. "Let him
through. "Two-Face", over here."

Harvey Dent rushed up to Bruce. "Sergeant," he said as he tried
to catch his breath. "Where's the Colonel?"

Bruce pointed to his left. "He's over that way with Grayson,
Nigma, and Grayson's man, Jefferson. What's wrong?"

Dent shook his head. "It's a trap. These bloody Hessians set us
up. We've got another hundred coming at us from the north."

"But, that means..." Bruce began.

Harvey finished his sentence. "These men volunteered to die,
just to get us."

"Come on," Bruce told him, "we've got to get you to Colonel
Scott, immediately."

As the two men made their way to the colonel, they drew the
attention of the lieutenant. James Gordon motioned the two men to
him. "What's wrong?" he asked as they approached.

After Dent repeated his news, James just nodded for a
moment. "It was bound to happen sooner or later," he said. "You men
get to the colonel; I'll round up the rest of the men and we'll meet
up with you in a bit."

Since the brief skirmish was almost at an end, as far as he
knew, Joseph Chill had seen the three men talking and was making his
way to James. "We've got a serious problem, don't we?" he asked.

"We most certainly do. Go find Oliver and meet us at the
rendezvous point. If you get there first, tell Midnight that we have
to be ready to move immediately. This has all been a set up."

The report of a nearby cannon set the men to running. While
James led the remaining Dark Knights from the clearing and to the
colonel's position, Joseph went searching for Oliver. Just as he was
about to call out to his friend, a hand clamped over his mouth.

"Shh."

When his assailant's free hand appeared beside his head and
pointed off to the left, he recognized the tattered coat sleeve and
knew Jonathan had probably just saved his life. His eyes followed the
direction Scarecrow was pointing and spotted several Hessians making
their way through the corn stalks. Joseph nodded and his friend
released him.

"What about Queen?" Joseph silently mouthed.

Jonathan smiled and pointed in the direction of the rendezvous
point. Joseph nodded, and the two men started making their way there
as well.

Joseph and Jonathan were the last two to arrive. "Is everyone
here?" Joseph asked.

One look at the faces of his fellow Knights told him he did not
want to know the answer. "Who...who did we lose?"

Colonel Scott looked up from where he was talking to
Charles. "Grayson."

"What happened?"

"Let's get out of here," was all the colonel said.

As the men began to gather up their gear, Edward moved over next
to Joseph and Jonathan. "It was terrible," he said in a low voice. "A
Hessian cannonball took John's head clean off."

"Where's the body?" Jonathan asked.

"That's what has the colonel so upset. It happened so fast, we
didn't get a chance to collect John's body, so now the colonel feels
guilty, almost like he was deserting John."

"What about Jefferson," Joseph asked, referring to the faithful
servant who had followed his master to war.

"He's devastated, moreso than even the colonel. It took three of
the men to drag him away from his master. Bruce finally convinced him
to come with us."

"How did he do that?"

"He reminded "Lightning" that his still had a duty to John's
family."

The three fell into line behind their comrade-in-arms as the
Dark Knights silently made their way back to their hideout, an old
cave on the outskirts of Gotham. As they made their way to safety,
Joseph couldn't help but think of John's wife, Mary, and his young
son, Richard.

* * * * *

"I guess the headless horseman is trying to finish the job the
Hessians started with John eleven years ago" Edward said in a low
voice.

Bruce looked at his friend. "It was a man," was all he said.


Chapter 5

"Master Grayson," Jefferson said as he handed his young employer
a pair of recently polished boots.

"Jefferson, how many times have I told you not to call me that?"
the young man asked. "Call me Richard, or, if you must use titles,
Sir, but not that."

"I'm sorry, young sir. I'll try to remember."

"When Bruce Wayne bought my father's property to hold until my
eighteenth birthday, he gave you your freedom and hired you to raise
me. Just because he has returned my father's property to me, does not
mean that you are a slave again. You are still a free man, Jefferson,
remember that."

"Yes, sir."

"Now," Richard Grayson smiled, "what can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if you would do me a favor, sir."

"What do you need?"

"Well, sir," Jefferson began, "since you are going to see Miss
Gordon, I was hoping you could give Mayor Gordon a message for me."

"Of course I will."

Jefferson smiled. "Tell him to let Constable Chill know that
if'n he needs ole Lightnin's help a gittin' that murderin' polecat
what kilt the Colonel, they kin count on me."

Richard shook his head and smiled. "Why, Jefferson. Such
language. After Mrs. Wayne took the time to teach you how to read and
write, and how to speak proper English, she'd be appalled at you
grammar just now."

"Yes, sir, she probably would be," Jefferson laughed. "I guess
I'll be owing her an apology."

* * * * *

"Come in, son," James Gordon told young Richard as he opened his
front door. "Barbara would hang me up by my heels and never cook me
another meal if I let you stand outside on this cold October evening
and catch a cold."

Richard laughed. "She would never do that to you, sir. Speaking
of cooking, something certainly smells good."

"Well, it should. My Babs has been in the kitchen for hours
making certain everything was perfect for supper this evening." James
led the young man into the sitting room. "Sit yourself down and I'll
let Barbara know you're here."

As Richard removed his cloak, he noticed a painting hanging on
the wall opposite the fireplace. After laying his cloak across the
arm of a chair, he walked over to get a better view.

"The likenesses are incredible," came James' voice from behind
him.

Richard's eyes remained fixed on the painting. "Yes, they are."

"That's all of the Dark Knights; even Lightning is in it," James
said as he joined the young man.

"Whoever painted this did a magnificent job. Father appears just
as I remember him."

James put his hand on the young man's shoulder. "Dinah Queen
painted this. The talent of a master and the voice of an angel;
Oliver is a very lucky man. This painting was originally intended for
the Colonel, but after what happened the other day, Dinah was afraid
it would upset Molly. Oliver told her that since I was second-in-
command of the Knights, I should get it."

"That was a nice gesture," Richard said.

"The thing that amazes me is that we never posed for something
like this. As a matter of fact, I can't think of any of us who would
pose for an individual portrait, let alone something like this,"
James said as he turned and walked over to his favorite chair. "The
Colonel might have, but not the rest of us."

"The rest of you wouldn't what?" Barbara Gordon asked as she
entered the room.

"Pose for a painting," James told his sixteen-year-old daughter.

"Good evening, Barbara," Richard said with a smile.

"Good evening, Richard. I hope you're hungry."

"I'm famished," the young man told her.

"Unless the two of you are going to stay in here and talk all
evening, then I suggest you follow me to the dining room." Barbara
turned and left the room.

James smiled at Richard. "If we don't hurry, Babs will fill her
plate and throw out the rest just to spite us."

* * * * *

James pushed himself back from the table. "Babs, honey, that was
wonderful."

"Oh, yes," Richard agreed. "You are probably one of the best
cooks in Gotham Township."

"You two are just saying that because no one else will feed
you," Barbara laughed as she began to clear the table.

"That's probably true," James replied.

Richard helped Barbara clear the table while James retired to
the sitting room. "Barbara," Richard said when they were
alone, "would you like to go for a walk?"

"I would love to, if Father doesn't mind."

Once the table was clear, Barbara took Richard's hand and led
him into the sitting room. "Father, may Richard and I go for an
evening stroll?" she asked as they entered the sitting room. "Oh, I'm
sorry," she said when she saw that her father wasn't alone. "I didn't
know you had a visitor."

Joseph Chill turned and greeted the two young people.

"I think you had better stay in this evening," James told his
daughter. "Joseph was just telling me that they found Edward Nigma
body."

"Oh, that's terrible," Barbara sobbed.

"Same as the others," Joseph said. "McNider said that Edward had
been dead for several hours before Jonathan found him."

"Where did it happen?" Barbara asked.

"Jonathan said he found Edward's body near the woodpile. He and
Jonathan were supposed to be going coon hunting this evening," Joseph
told her, "but when Jonathan got to Edward's, he was no where around.
Jonathan walked around back to see if he was out there, and noticed
Edward's boot sticking out from behind the wood."

"Knowing those two," James said, "they were probably going
hunting for the killer."

"That's what I figured," Joseph agreed.

"Richard, I need you to do something for me," James said.

"Yes, sir?"

"Whoever this murderer is, he seems to be targeting the Dark
Knights. Keep an eye on Lightning."

"If that's the case," Richard said, "then he should be all
right. Jefferson was never an actual member of the Knights."

"True," James replied, "but, there's a chance that the killer
doesn't know that. He was as brave as any member of the Knights and
just as loyal to the cause as he was to your father."

"Jefferson has been by himself several times these past few
days," Richard told the two men. "If this horseman was going to kill
him, he would have already had several opportunities. Don't worry,
though, I'll let him know of your concerns."

"You're a fine young man, Richard. I can see why my daughter is
so taken with you."

"Father!"


Chapter 6
"Bruce," Selina pleaded with her husband, "please reconsider."

"Don't worry," Bruce said as he took his wife in his arms and
pulled her close. "I know you are scared, but I can pretty much
guarantee that nothing is going to happen."

"Still, I wish you would wait until morning, or at least take
someone with you. You could stop at Oliver's. I'm sure he..."

Bruce reached up and put his finger gently against Selina's
lips. "Shh. The note said that I had to come alone."

"But what if it's a trap?" she sobbed.

"The "Headless Horseman", as people have taken to calling this
madman, has yet to send out invitations to his victims so I don't
think it was from him."

"But if not him, then who?"

Bruce looked deep into his wife's eyes. "I have my suspicions,
but I'm not going to say anything until I find out for sure."

* * * * *

Bruce Wayne paused at the mouth of the cave and listened. No
sounds issued forth save that of the steady drip of water. He hadn't
been here since the war, but the memories were still fresh in his
mind. Obviously, his mysterious contact remembered this place as
well. Bruce slipped the note from his pocket. By the moon's feeble
light, he read it again

Rendezvous. Midnight. Alone.

The note said nothing else, it didn't have to. The first time he
read it, he thought McNider had sent it to him. He ruled Charles out
after making a closer examination of the handwriting. It was a
handwriting he knew he had seen before, and once he realized where,
he knew that the note said a lot more than what was contained in
those three words.

Bruce entered the cave and suddenly it was like time had stood
still in this place. He needed no lantern to find his way through the
darkness; the Colonel had made certain that all of his men knew their
way around the cave without the aid of any type of illumination.
Winding his way through the passage, memories began to flood to the
forefront of Bruce's mind.

* * * * *

"It's all my fault," Harvey Dent, his voice a harsh whisper,
repeated over and over in the darkness of the cave.

Bruce Wayne made his way unerringly to his companion. "Harvey,
calm down. It is not your fault."

"Yes, it is. I've spent the past two days in the Hessian camp
gathering information, yet, not once, did I even suspect that
something like this was being planned. I failed in my mission. It was
my incompetence that cost John his life."

"Listen to me. You did not fail." Bruce spoke calmly and
evenly. "This kind of ambush takes weeks to plan; it's not something
they just threw together in two days. No one holds you accountable
for what happened. If anything, you are the reason most of us made it
back here. If you hadn't shown up when you did, we would all be dead
or captured. You saved us, Harvey, remember that."

* * * * *

Several minutes passed as Bruce walked through the passages. He
was still reliving memories when he noticed that things were not
right. Somewhere up ahead was a faint flicker of light, like that of
a solitary candle. Cautiously, he proceeded forward. In total
silence, he reached the end of the passage and glanced into the
cavern where he and his fellow Knights had rendezvoused after each of
their missions.

Seeing no one present, Bruce stepped into the cavern. Directly
in front of him, held tightly to a large rock by its own melted wax,
was the candle he had expected to find. Bruce guessed that by the
amount of melted wax, the candle had been burning for nearly an hour.
With a keen eye that had saved his life many times during the
revolution, he examined the illuminated section of the cavern. As he
did, Bruce could picture where most of his companions had made their
little niches in this home away from home.

To his left was the low rock upon which the Colonel would sit
while taking his evening meal; just beyond that, was the nook where
Oliver would keep his extra arrows. To his right, Bruce saw the
homemade table that Harvey used when preparing his disguises. He saw
where Jonathan would stretch out after spending two and three days at
a time hanging from a pole in the midst of a Hessian-infested corn
field, and where Jason would go to be by himself to pray for
forgiveness for the violence he had wrought on the enemy. Each man
had his own place in the cavern, a place where he would go to be by
himself, and, as Bruce looked around, realized how many good times,
despite the war, that they had had in this place.

As he continued to look around, he noticed something in the
place where John Grayson took his rest. Bruce walked over to get a
closer look. Kneeling down, he picked up a rag. Moving back to the
light of the candle, he began to examine what he had found.

What Bruce discovered proved his suspicions correct. The killer
was not some vengeful spirit returned from the grave, but a living,
breathing man. To his dismay, however, Bruce also had an idea as to
the killer's identity.


Chapter 7
Dinah Queen curtsied to the applause of the small group of
guests surrounding the large oak table in the main banquet hall of
Wayne Manor. As one, the gentlemen stood as she made her way around
the table to take her place beside her husband. Oliver leaned over
and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Magnificent as always, my love,"
he said.

"Thank you, dear Dinah," Selina spoke up, "for that wonderful
song."

"Yes," Bruce said as he stood, "you have an amazing voice."

Dinah bowed her head. "Thank you," she said, her voice barely
above a whisper.

Bruce knew that despite her talent, Dinah Queen was ever the
shrinking violet when people commented on her singing, so he changed
the subject, much to Dinah's relief. "I think we should take this
opportunity to remember those who have recently been stolen from us."

Charles McNider stood to his feet. "To Colonel Alan Scott," he
said as he raised his glass of wine, "a finer man I have never known."

Molly Scott raised her handkerchief to the corner of her eye and
wiped away a tear. Jennie put her arm around her mother.

Joseph Chill was the next man to stand. "To Jason Blood. A
gentle soul with a fierce passion for freedom."

Jonathan Crane lifted his glass as he stood. "To Edward Nigma.
He is now with the One who can answer all of his questions."

"Let us not forget John and Mary Grayson," James Gordon said as
he rose to his feet. "Although they were taken from us many years
ago, we carry the sorrow of their passing with us each day."

Richard nodded his appreciation to James.

Bruce raised his glass. "And to Harvey Dent, our most recent
loss."

Shock danced across the faces of most of the guests.

"When did this happen?" Richard asked.

"Last night," Joseph said. "We found his body this morning out
by Arkham's Mill."

A moment of silence reigned before Oliver Queen stood up and
raised his glass. "Then here's to fallen friends." Those who remained
seated stood and joined in the toast. "And may God have mercy on the
fiend who took them...because we sure won't," he added after everyone
drained their glass.

Once the toast was given and everyone returned to his or her
seat, Selina picked up a small silver bell and gave it a delicate
shake. From the shadows stepped a tall older gentleman.

"Yes, Ma'am?"

"Please see if the meal is ready, Alfred," she told him.

"He's a knew addition to your staff, isn't he?" Jonathan asked.

"Yes," Bruce answered. "That's Alfred Pennyworth. He recently
came over from England looking to start a new life in America. He
seems to be a good man, and Helena has really taken to him."

Alfred returned to announce that dinner would be served
momentarily.

* * * * *

"The goose was most delicious," Barbara Gordon told her hostess
as she was preparing to leave. "You have to give me the recipe."

"I'll have the cook write it down for you," Selina told the
young woman.

"Thank you. Oh, here comes Richard."

Selina smiled. "You are certainly smitten with that young man.
Has he said anything about getting married, yet?"

"Once, but he said there were things that he wanted to take care
of before he took that step."

Richard and Bruce joined the two women at the door. The two
couples bid farewell to each other and Selina gently closed the door
behind her departing guests.

"That went well," she said once they were alone.

"I hope so," came Bruce's cryptic reply.

"Bruce Wayne, what in the world do you mean by that?"

"Let me have a talk with "Alfred" first, then I'll know how good
things went."

* * * * *

Bruce closed and locked the door to his study behind him as he
entered. "So," he said to Alfred, who was already in the room waiting
on him, "what were the reactions to my "unfortunate announcement"?"

"Alfred" pulled a rag from his pocket and began to wipe away the
layers of theatrical makeup that covered his face. "Well," came the
voice of Harvey Dent from beneath the busy cloth, "I'm glad to see
that I will be missed if anything really happens to me. Beyond the
shock that we expected, though, I didn't see anything unusual."

Both relief and disappointment appeared on Bruce's face. Before
he could say anything, however, Harvey continued.

"I did notice something closer to surprise than shock in the
voice of one your guests, however."

"Which one?" Bruce asked.

Harvey paused before answering. When he finally spoke, it was in
a low, sorrow-filled whisper. "It was him."


Chapter 8
Richard woke to the light rapping of someone outside of his
bedroom door. Leaning over the side of his bed, he pulled a pocket
watch from his trousers. It was almost 6:00 AM.

"Yes, Jefferson, what is it?"

"You have a visitor downstairs," came the answer from the
hallway.

"At this time of morning? Who is it?"

"It's Jonathan Crane. He said he's sorry to disturb you so
early, but it is very important."

Richard swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Tell him that
I'll be down directly. You might see if he would like to join us for
breakfast."

"Yes, sir."

As he began to dress, Richard heard Jefferson reach the end of
the hall and start down the stairs. He followed moments later.

"Jonathan," Richard greeted his morning guest, "aren't you going
to join us for breakfast?"

"I would love to, but I don't have time," Jonathan told him.

"Then, what can I do for you?" Richard asked.

"I've got to leave town, family business, and I won't be back
until late tonight. I was wondering if I could borrow Jefferson for a
couple hours?"

"I don't see why not," Richard said.

"I've got a leak in my roof and I was hoping he could patch it
for me while I was gone."

"Jefferson," Richard called to his friend, "please come here a
moment."

"Yes, sir?" the man said as he entered the room.

"Jonathan would like to ask you something."

"Yes, sir, Mr. Crane?" he said, turning to their gust.

Jonathan smiled. "I need you to do me a favor for which I will
gladly pay you."

"You don't have to pay me nothing. I'd be glad to help you with
whatever you need," Jefferson told the man.

"I've got to go out of town for the day, and I was needing my
roof patched," Jonathan told him.

"Ill be glad to take care of that for you," Jefferson
smiled. "You go take care of your business and don't worry about that
roof."

"You are a fine fellow, Jefferson," Jonathan told him as he
shook his hand. "We always could count on you to watch out for us."

"Them's kind words. Just watch out for yourself coming home."

"That I will." Jonathan turned to Richard. "Well, I better get
going and let you fellows have your breakfast. I'll see you tomorrow."

Jefferson showed Jonathan to the door. "You keep a sharp eye out
while you're on the road. We've had enough funerals around here the
past few days; we don't need another one."

"I don't think I have anything to worry about," Jonathan told
his friend as he left.


Chapter 9
"Bruce," Oliver asked, "are you sure about this?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Bruce replied. "Every shred of evidence
points to him."

"Then give the evidence to me and I'll arrest him," Joseph said.

"It's not that simple," Bruce told his friend. "We need to find
out why he's killing us off the way he is. I've got my suspicions,
but I need to be sure. And besides, if there is even one ounce of
evidence that is contrary to what I have already collected, well...I
want to be absolutely positive before I formally accuse anyone of
anything."

The others who were gathered in Bruce's study nodded in
agreement.

"There's also the fact that he left town this morning, so you
would have to wait until tonight or tomorrow anyway," Harvey said as
he stepped through the door.

Mouths dropped open when he entered.

"What's the matter?" he grinned. "You all look like you've just
seen a ghost."

"You're...you're...not dead," Oliver stammered.

"That was Bruce's idea," Harvey told them. "I am just glad to
know that I would be missed if I really did die."

"But, why?" James asked. "Why the charade?"

Bruce looked at each man present. "We had to have one more death
to catch the killer, one that he was blamed for, but did not commit."

"I'm not sure I follow you," James said.

"Once the trap is sprung, everything will make perfect sense,"
Bruce told them. "Now, here's what we have to do."


Chapter 10
"Land sakes alive, Miss Kane, that was one of the best meals
I've had in a long time." Jonathan scooted his chair back from the
table.

"Thank you, and please call me Katherine."

"All right, Katherine," Jonathan smiled. "I appreciate you
letting me spend the day helping you around your place."

"Think nothing of it. Lord knows there was plenty enough work to
be done," she told him. "I'm especially grateful to you for fixing
that leak in my roof."

Jonathan laughed. "Funny thing is, I would have been doing the
same thing at my place had I stayed home today. I had to get
Richard's man, Jefferson, to take care of it."

"He's a kind soul, that Jefferson."

Jonathan agreed. "I've know him since John first acquired him,
and, not once, has he not gone out of his way to help whoever needed
it."

"I'm glad Bruce gave him his freedom like he did." Katherine
suddenly became very serious. "I don't cotton to the idea of one man
owning another, regardless of the man's skin color. It just isn't
right."

"I know what you mean," Jonathan said. After a moment of
silence, he stood. "Well, I guess I better head back to town."

"Be careful," Katherine told him.

"Have you ever thought about moving into town?" Jonathan asked
her.

Katherine laughed. "I don't think I would like living in town.
Why, I wouldn't have access to near as many herbs as I do now."

"Don't you get lonely out here by yourself?" Jonathan asked her.

"I manage. I've made more friends living out here than you could
imagine."

"Well," Jonathan smiled, "I know at least one person who
wouldn't mind seeing you in town more often."

"And who, pray tell, might that be?"

"I can't say. Charles made me promise not to say anything." He
gave her a wink. "If you hear any rumors, though, I can't be held
accountable for them."

Katherine laughed. "Who knows? Maybe one day."

Jonathan laughed as well. "Well, I guess it's time to take my
leave. Stop by my place the next time you're in town, and I'll repay
you for the supper. Who knows? Charles might even stop by."

They were both still laughing when Jonathan climbed up into the
saddle and started home.

* * * * *

The man whose wartime antics had earned him the
nickname "Scarecrow" was beginning to get nervous. Leaning forward,
he gave his horse a gentle pat on the neck, hoping to alleviate the
nervousness it was sensing in him.

"Easy, girl," he whispered. "How in the world did we let Bruce
talk us into this?"

His horse snorted in response, giving him the impression that it
was laying the blame completely on his shoulders. "Thanks a lot," he
told his mount.

Jonathan Crane rode on in silence for several minutes until he
noticed his horse's ears suddenly perk up, as though it were
listening for something. Cautiously, he looked around.

"What is it, girl? What do you hear?" he asked.

Without warning, the frightened animal broke into a full gallop,
causing her master to hang on for dear life. After several seconds,
Jonathan fell into rhythm with the movements of his horse. Once he
had some control, he risked a quick glance behind him.

At first, he saw only an empty, fog-shrouded road. Regardless of
what his eyes told him, however, he had learned to trust the senses
of the animal beneath him, so he let her continue to run.

As he quickly turned his attention to the road in front of him,
he suddenly felt the small hairs at the nape of his neck begin to
stand on end. He glanced back a second time.

Jonathan's eyes widened in fear as the cloaked figure of the
headless horseman burst from the fog in pursuit. His mind began to
race. He looked back a third time to see his pursuer drawing ever
closer.

I'm dead if I stay on the road, he thought. With that, he tugged
the reins to the right and his horse left the road and plunged into
the woods.

The horseman followed his prey into the woods.

Jonathan leaned forward until his chest was almost touching his
horse's powerful neck. "Keep running, girl," he told his
mount. "You've got the advantage, now. That monster can't catch you
now."

Fully trusting his horse, Jonathan risked another glance
backwards. He saw no sign of his pursuer. His instincts told him that
he was still in danger, so he continued to let his mount have free
rein.

Several minutes passed before he felt safe enough to slow down
and try to figure out where he was. Despite the quick pace, he easily
recognized his surroundings. "Not much farther. The North Bridge is
only about a mile away."

Jonathan gave a slight tug on the reins and started towards the
road. Passing through the trees and back onto the dirt road, he saw
that they were only a short distance from the bridge. Glancing in the
opposite direction, he saw the horseman less than one hundred yards
away. With a flick of the reins, his horse was running at top speed
once again.

As he reached the end of the bridge and started across, he
looked back at his pursuer. The horseman was less than seventy yards
away and drawing close every second. When he turned his attention
back to the road before him, he found that a glowing figure now stood
at the other end of the bridge. Just as he felt a wave of panic begin
to wash over him, the figure in front of him motioned for him to pass.

Jonathan's eyes widened in shock as he rode past the unearthly
figure. Beckoning him to safety was none other than John Grayson.

Behind him, he heard the horseman start across the bridge.
Although common sense told him to keep riding, he couldn't resist the
urge to turn and watch the encounter between these two spirits from
beyond.

As the horseman neared the ghostly apparition that had appeared
at the end of the bridge, he slowed his big, black steed to a trot.
Cautiously, the headless Hessian approached the glowing figure of
John Grayson. A slight tug on the reins brought his horse to a stop.
With his saber still drawn, the horseman dismounted.

Jonathan was amazed at how tall the horseman was; to his
shoulders, he was as tall as the spirit of John. He seemed to be
nearly twice as broad as John was as well.

John Grayson's spirit remained motionless as the horseman
circled him.

Unable to contain his curiosity, Jonathan dismounted and
silently crept back as close as he dared to go to the bridge. His
mouth dropped open when he heard the horseman speak. He had spent
enough time hidden in the midst of Hessian mercenaries to recognize
their language, but the horseman wasn't speaking German.

"You shall soon be at peace, Father," the horseman said to the
spirit, "both you and Mother."

At the sound of the horseman's voice, the spirit took a step
backwards.

"Father," the horseman asked, "why do you back away from me?"

The horseman raised his saber. "Deceiver," he growled. "You are
not the spirit of my father. How dare you profane his memory with
your charade."

The spirit took another step backwards.

The horseman prepared to attack when an arrow streaked down from
the darkness of the rafters. It passed through the horseman's
shoulder like it was passing through smoke. The horseman glanced up.
A second arrow struck several inches lower and the horseman howled in
pain. His saber fell from a hand that could no longer grip it. A
second later, Oliver Queen dropped from the shadows and landed
lightly on the bridge.

Emboldened by his friend's appearance, Jonathan led his horse
back to the bridge. As he approached, the spirit turned and spoke to
him. "What took you so long?"

Jonathan's eyes widened. "Incredible," he said. "You look
exactly like John."

Harvey began to wipe away his makeup. "If it wasn't for Dinah's
painting being so accurate, I wouldn't have had a chance of pulling
this off."

"How did you make yourself glow like that?" Jonathan asked.

"In the rendezvous cave, there's a side passage that leads into
a huge bat cave; the walls are lined with this strange moss."

"That's very interesting," Oliver said as he kept an arrow
pointed at the horseman, "but, could one of you get some rope so we
can tie him up?"

Oliver glanced away for only the briefest of moments, but that
was all the horseman needed. The archer was sent flying backward by a
vicious kick to the chin. His attacker dove forward and came up with
his saber gripped tightly in his good hand. Before Harvey had time to
react, the horseman had slashed across his chest, trailing a stream
of red as it passed.

"Richard."

At the mention of his true name, the horseman turned to find
Bruce Wayne walking toward him. He was accompanied by Joseph Chill
and James Gordon.

"That's enough, son," James told him. "Drop the weapon."

"Not until you are all dead," the young man growled.

"Jonathan," Joseph called to his friend. "How's Harvey?"

"He's hurt pretty bad, but I think Charles can patch him up if
we can get him there in time."

Harvey struggled to stand. "Not...until... this is...finished,"
Harvey gasped. "We're...in this...together."

"Then it's a good thing I'm here," Charles said as he appeared
climbing up the bank from beneath the bridge. When he saw the looks
of surprise, he smiled. "I know we agreed that I would remain at the
house, but I thought I could be of better assistance here."

At the doctor's appearance, Richard took a step towards the
man. "You, you could have saved him."

"No one could have saved your father but God himself," Charles
told the young man. "It was his time to go."

"Then you can tell God..." Richard said no more, he simply
charged. He had barely taken three steps when he suddenly found
himself being borne to the ground. He twisted himself enough to see
the black face of Jefferson staring into his. As the two men hit the
ground, everyone heard a sickening thud.

Jefferson slowly climbed to his feet. The others gathered around
to see Richard lying motionless on the ground. Charles was there
immediately and removed the heavy cloak that was covering the young
man's head.

Mounted on Richard's shoulders was a wooden rack designed to
support the cloak in a way that gave him the appearance of being
headless. Reaching between the wooden supports, he checked the young
man's pulse.

"He's still alive, but just barely."

Bruce placed is hand on Jefferson's shoulder. "If you hadn't
have been here, Richard would have killed Charles."

The man who had raised Richard Grayson said nothing, he just
continued to stare through tear-filled eyes.


Epilogue
Joseph Chill kissed his sleeping infant on top of his head and
handed him back to his mother. "Tuck him in tight tonight, Jennie,
it's going to be a cold one."

Jennie Scott Chill kissed her husband and left the room.

"I believe you are going to make a fine father," Bruce Wayne
told his friend once they were alone.

"I hope," Joseph replied.

Bruce stood to his feet, and Joseph followed suit. "Don't
forget, Selina is expecting Gotham's newest mayor and his family to
be on time for dinner tomorrow night."

Joseph smiled.

"Everyone else will be expecting you as well."

"We wouldn't miss it for the world."

The End