#dontkillforpleasure

Abigail could feel him following her. She lived at her fathers’ house far from town so that they might have plenty of land for horses and opportunity for peace away from the people. She enjoyed the silence when her fathers were there, but when they were gone it was nearly maddening. Abigail had thought counting the sunsets passed, thinking each day would bring her closer to her family being reunited, but it only brought her pain.

She avoided going into town after she came of age. Once others saw her as an adult and not a little orphan girl, the rumors about her past swirled in the town. Everyone from strangers to those that helped raised her while her fathers were gone judged thoughtlessly of their way of life. She was a woman, closer to knighthood than to marriage, and for that the town felt the need to punish her. 

They called her wild and savage, doomed to a life of loneliness due to her upbringing. Others said she was cursed because of where Abigail came from. She didn’t know much herself, other than her fathers rescued her when she was abandoned. They saved her life, but that wasn’t enough for the people of the town. They said she came a town of murderers, those that pillaged off of the coast line. They said she was destined to become the same.

But then there were days like these, where her fathers had been gone for weeks on end and she could no longer avoid going into town. Abigail needed to care for herself, regardless of the nightmares that haunted her. There were those, her age especially, who could not resist making sure her time in town was miserable.

This time one was following her home. Suddenly, he was shouting from behind her. He said that her fathers were weak in taking her in and that they would not be able to prevent her in becoming the murderer they all knew she would be. Those words did not phase her as much. There was no proof in his words and surely her fathers would have said something to her before. She was a woman now, not a child and she dissevered the truth.

But then he said something that echoed her worst fears deep inside her. He said that her fathers were dead and would never return to her. It had been weeks since anyone had heard from the knights. Of course, they would leave her. Everyone else in her life had. Abigail could feel his foot steps getting closer as his words pierced her. She couldn’t bear the sting of truth that they held for her.

Abigail had a grip on a small hunting knife her father had given her for protection. She was shaking with pain and anger. She wanted to hurt him as much as he had hurt her. Abigail spun around, with her hand out wide. She had intended to just yell at him, but she had forgotten about the blade in her hand. Abigail was shocked that her knife had cut into the boy’s hand that he had held up to protect himself with.

Blood was dripping down his hand and across the edge of her knife. He was crying out and begging her to stop, but Abigail found herself overpowered by the momentum to strike at him again.

Abigail nodded, wiping her fingers across her cheeks. She slowly raised her gaze to meet Galahad’s eyes. “I’m going to behave, I promise.” Abigail whispered. Galahad and Tristan were leaving to do a favor for King Arthur. They said they were only going to be gone for a few weeks. Neither one of them would answer her on whether their trip was dangerous. But she knew it was. Knights were always put into impossible situations. But Abigail had faith that they would return to her. They had always returned to her; this time would be no different. 

But of course, Galahad couldn’t leave without a final warning for her to stay out of trouble. Abigail was sixteen now and old enough to live on her own. But she had so much of Tristan in her that Galahad had the right to be concerned about her being alone. Abigail would rather they both stay with her, but she knew they needed to go and she needed to prove that she was capable of being on her own.