Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 2

panic and fear, knowing that in times of war, even the noblest must sometimes fall. Even now, their servants and camp followers toiled in the battlefield, reclaiming their dead, salvaging the weapons and horses of the fallen.
    The enemy had long ago fled, having suffered grievous losses at the hands of a more organized, highly trained army. But still, no loss brought more grief than the loss of Arick Weste, the brilliant young Captain.
    He was Sai's lover and the father of Juliana's little boy. He was climbing the ranks quickly, and he'd vanished on the field, practically under Sai's nose.
    In the distance, thunder rumbled, though the sun shone down on the field. The scattered light created an ominous and surreal atmosphere. Sunlight picked out the gleam of weapons and glistening blood on a lifeless body, yet fast-moving clouds cast their shadows like huge formless carrion birds soaring above the scattered corpses.
    Losing his footing, Sai went down again and he stayed, his chin dropping forward to his chest. A fat bead of water dropped on his arm, carving a rivulet through the dirt and grime on his skin. Another drop followed and he looked up, seeking the rain, but the sky was blue and the sun still shone. Now the water ran down his face, and Sai touched his wet cheeks in bewilderment.
    Not rain. It was not rain at all.
    Roughly, he rubbed the tears away and stumbled to his feet, resuming his search. The clash had covered dozens of acres and everywhere he looked he saw survivors tending the wounded or carrying the dead. If Arick was there, hadn't they found him?
    Another ominous rumble rolled from the sky and the drops that struck his face and shoulders were no longer tears. He closed his eyes and felt the rain striking him, doing its best to wash away the pain of his fear, the horror of the battlefield. In the distance, lightning flashed. The answering thunder was hard on its heels.
    "Sai, we've got to get back to camp, this storm—" A peal of thunder drowned her words and Sai turned away, still searching. A horse lay on its side, not Arick's great sorrel gelding, but still, the body pinned beneath could be his.
    It wasn't.
    Shouts in the distance drew his attention; the servants were hurrying with their burdens, rushing to move out of the path of the wicked storm. Juliana was nearing his side, and his bare hands clenched. Denial rose to his lips, and he shook his head even as a beam of light broke through the rain, catching a reflection that drew his gaze. He scrambled over the horse, falling to his knees, watching the rain wash the blood and dirt from a brilliant blade. As the sword washed clean in the downpour, Sai remained on his knees.
    "No."
    He felt Juliana beside him but ignored her presence. Reaching out, he gently lifted the blade, the one that had been given life by his own hands. He held it flat, willing the polished steel to guide him to its master, but the sword was cold and still.
    "No." He shook his head, denying the implications of the fallen sword.
    "Sai." Juliana laid her hand on his arm. "We must go. It's no longer safe."
    "No. Not without Arick."
    She looked at him steadily, and then around the battlefield. Her hair was sodden and the rain washed her face clean, revealing sharp angles and pale skin. She was injured, yet she had continued to toil away at his side, searching for the body of Arick.
    "He must have fallen here." Sai cradled the sword in his arms, turning from one side to the other, searching frantically for Arick among the dead. "He's here somewhere!" Frantically, Sai began dislodging the bodies of the dead, revealing the faces of fallen friends and mortal enemies. Above him, black clouds churned in the sky. Another bolt of lightning snaked to the ground, deafening them with its thunder. The rain began to sting their skin; small chunks of ice pelted the ground, driving the servants to rush for shelter.
    Chunks of hail slashed at Sai's skin and Juliana dug for a shield, holding it above their bare heads. Warm blood mingled with the stinging ice, and when Sai paused, finally surrendering his search, he could think of nothing more appropriate. As his heart went cold as ice, his blood ran hot with grief, with the need for vengeance.
    Unable to stand it any longer, Juliana left the shield and fled toward the distant tree line, where the branches and leaves boiled as ice tore into the trees. Sai stood, oblivious to the pain that was merely a distant distraction to the agony in his