Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 2

ushering Kent to his seat at the table. Chaz sat next to him, his eyes red and drooping, but with a pleased smile on his face. Seth turned questioning eyes to Kent, and Kent looked away.
    Commander Rake stood from his seat at the end of the table. "I commend you all once again for your efforts in liberating the village, and I do hope you have all enjoyed yourselves." A few of the knights nodded and cheered, raising glasses or forks in small salutes.
    "But your task is not over. The bandits are fleeing, disorganized, but are far from eradicated. You must hunt them down, deal them the Lord's judgment, or if you cannot, drive them from the King's lands."
    Chaz met Kent's eyes, giving a slow nod.
    "Smaller teams of horsed knights will have an easier time tracking the enemy through the brush. You will work in pairs. Sir Fleur and Sir Raven!"
    Kent licked his lips, a sensation of dread worming in his gut. "Sir Leopold and Sir Chaz!" Chaz tossed his head toward a red-haired knight who sat across the table.
    "Sir Kent and Sir Seth!" Kent's food turned to ashes in his mouth.
    Alone with Seth, for who knew how long. He stared up the ceiling, anything to keep from meeting Seth's eyes. Why did God have to test him so?
    The commander continued calling names, Kent staring miserably at his food, pushing it around his plate. "What's wrong?" Chaz elbowed him. "I thought you quite liked Sir Seth. He is a skilled knight."
    "He was injured," Kent said, too quickly. "He will be weaker now. A liability. He has only just recovered."
    Chaz's eyebrows hit his hairline. "You are quick to judge."
    Kent's gaze swept past Seth, who stared back at him with narrowed eyes. It was obvious he had heard.
    Kent swallowed the apology. It was better this way.
    The rest of the meal passed in silence for Kent, Chaz talking over him to his new partner. Chatter rose around him, about the bandits, about how simple their task would be, and about plans on how to find the fleeing enemy.
    "Perhaps capture would be better than immediately passing judgment, especially if we found their leader. Imagine the honor we would earn!"
    "It's better to run them out. I have no desire to kill if I don't have to."
    "They killed enough of us. Traitorous scum. The King would have their heads."
    None of the fiery talk raised Kent's excitement. It was work, a job, that's all. He would do his best for his King.
    Chaz got up, discussing plans in low tones with Sir Leopold, and in moments, Lyle took his place. Kent's stomach flipped, and he shoved his food away.
    "Remember, Sir Kent," Lyle hissed as Kent began to stand, the man's voice stopping him cold. "The penalty for your sinful desires will be far worse than anything done to the traitors. Trust in God. Do not dishonor the King, yourself, or Seth."
    A flash of anger heated Kent—many knights had already dishonored themselves just last night with the village prostitutes—but fear quickly quenched it as he met Lyle's eyes. He nodded, his steps shaky as he headed to the stables.
    He would not fall prey to temptation. He would pass this test.
    ****
    "Are you ready? Got all your gear? I don't anticipate actually finding anyone, of course." Seth peered at his helmet, the sun shining brightly off of the metal.
    Kent nodded, his helmet tucked under one arm. After a week of fighting and unacceptable distractions the night before, he hadn't had a chance to clean it. He wouldn't wear it if he could avoid it.
    Although it would be a good way to avoid meeting Seth's gaze. "I won't slow you down," Seth smiled, eyes sparkling, Kent unsure if the tinge of bitterness he heard was real or not. "C'mon, let's race to the tree line!" Seth's horse reared without him kicking it, a curious bit of training that Seth had never passed on to anyone else. In moments, he was off, mud flying from under the horse's hooves.
    Kent spurred his horse, adrenaline beginning to buzz in his blood as he set off after him.
    Excitement. Camaraderie. Friendship. That was all Seth could mean to him. And even those could be traps, were traps, if Kent couldn't control himself. He pulled the reins, Seth darting ahead.
    "What's wrong?" Seth dropped back, eyebrows furrowed. "I thought I was the weak one." He gave a halfhearted smirk.
    "Nothing. Let's just… take our time. Avoid tiring the horses." Kent stared at his saddle. "And let's go quietly. Our task is to find stragglers, not gallivant around."
    Seth shook his head but fell beside Kent. "If that's what you want to