The Black Knight rides on full-moon nights, seeking worthy foes with which to cross his sword.
The family knows, and remembers. They have taken oaths, and passed lore on to their children. They wait, and they watch. Sometimes the ghost goes years without appearing, sometimes he appears three months in a row. There is no way to predict. Only when the sword appears will they scramble, knowing they have mere minutes before He comes riding out of the mist.
Because a Squire is bound to by soul to serve a knight, and that bond is not severed by death.
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Everyday Drabbles
Short StoryA drabble is a very short story one hundred words long. No more, no less. They are designed for maximum impact in the least amount of space. For 2019, I'll be posting a drabble every day.
