The Nymph

ILION Part 3

I wake suddenly, feeling as though I never fell asleep. Knowing it would be useless to try to go back to sleep, I sit up to look around and notice other men joined us in the tent after I fell asleep. I'm amazed none of them bothered me in the night, but realize Androkles situated our pallets so that no one could reach me without waking him.

I lie back down as quietly as I can, but Androkles' eyes fly open suddenly. I'm surprised that he woke so easily, and am afraid he'll suspect that I was trying to sneak away.

He sighs and pushes himself to his feet, then gestures for me to follow him outside. I obey silently, careful not to wake his men. He collects his hunting gear and starts toward the tree line.

The beach is quiet in the faint morning light. We step into the woods, which are noisy with life, and suddenly the horrors of war seem far away.

Soon I spot a mulberry tree and point it out to Androkles. He nods in approval and hands me a small leather pouch. As I'm collecting the black berries he moves away stealthily, following the sound of a small animal nearby.

I watch curiously as he strings the bow and waits for his opportunity, and am amazed when his first arrow hits its mark.

He collects the fresh game then gestures for me to follow. I reluctantly leave the mulberries, but come across a fig tree while Androkles continues hunting. Absorbed with collecting the fruit, I don't notice that Androkles has disappeared from view until I hear him calling, "Kleomede! Where are you?"

Without thinking, I step around the tree and watch in the direction of his voice until he rushes back into sight. He stops midstride as soon as he sees me, and his eyebrows furrow in confusion.

After a moment, his features relax and a warmth softens his eyes. I take a step back, self-conscious under his gaze, and immediately regret my reaction when the warmth fades from his expression. He pivots and motions for me to come with him.

We hunt and gather in silence the rest of the morning. I often catch him checking to make sure I'm still nearby, but I stay close to him even if it means leaving behind a juicy find.

It occurs to me that Androkles assumed I had run off when he lost sight of me, and I wonder why my instinct wasn't to run. There was something about his voice when he called my name- it held a tone of concern, almost desperation, that made me want to put him at ease. If he had sounded angry or suspicious, I probably would have hidden and fled.

Once the sun is directly overhead Androkles approaches me. "This will do," he says, lifting the now-bulging sack. "How did you fare?"

I confess that I had run out of space in the pouch and was eating any I had found since. I offer him a handful of berries, and he nods approvingly as he accepts the tiny meal.

On the way back to camp Androkles points to a bush. "What about these?" he asks, picking a dark purple berry from a cluster on a bright red stem.

"No!" I shout, reaching out and swatting the berry from his fingers on its way to his mouth. It falls to the ground and he stares down at it for a moment before looking up at me quizzically.

"Don't you have those in Hellas? They're poisonous," I explain.

Warmth flickers in his gaze for the briefest moment before he masks his expression and he squeezes my hand. He turns and maintains his hold on me as we step into the clearing of the Plain.

I'm disappointed after being so careful this morning to stay within his sight that he still doesn't trust me. Once we reach the crowded beach, though, I'm glad for his possessive hold.

Everywhere I look soldiers are fighting over women and gold- the spoils of war. Androkles weaves his way through the chaos, and I stick as close to him as I can manage at his brisk pace.

Back at the camp, Androkles tells me to wait in the tent. I overhear him order his men to make preparations to sail in the morning. Then he leaves to tell Diomedes that he will be joining him in the first group departing for Hellas.

I rest on my pallet, waiting for Androkles to return. Finally hearing someone enter, I turn expecting to see Androkles, then jump to my feet in surprise seeing a stranger.

"They say you're a nymph," the soldier says, eyeing me up with a look that makes my skin crawl. "Never had a nymph before."

I start to scream, but he lunges for me, covering my mouth before I can make a sound. I squirm and fight desperately against his rough grip. "You'll be good company on the voyage," he laughs.

I struggle, terrified, as his hands begin to roam my body. His palm slips from my mouth and I scream as loud as I can, praying his men will come to my rescue.

I grunt and kick desperately until suddenly my attacker is yanked away from me. I scramble backwards and watch as a crew member I recognize shoves him to the ground.

"What are you doing?" the stranger yells. "When I'm done you can have your turn."

To my relief, Androkles bursts into the tent.

"What's going-" he stops short, taking in the scene.

"Damon, get him out of here," Androkles barks.

"I'm leaving," my attacker says defensively as he picks himself up and backs out of the tent. Then, sending me a sick glare, he adds, "I can wait."

I shudder at the insinuation and hug my arms to my chest.

"No. You won't be traveling with us," Androkles growls.

"You'll regret this," the man threatens. He moves to leave, but changes his mind and takes a swing at Androkles. He reacts quickly and blocks the blow, and lands his own in the man's lower torso. The soldier grunts and crumples, then gingerly pulls himself up. He scowls and leaves the tent, clutching his middle, and Damon follows him out.

I let out the breath I had been holding and realize my limbs are trembling.

Androkles' face is soft as he moves toward me cautiously. I shrink away, dreading another man's touch. He hesitates, but then reaches for me anyway and holds me against him. I resist him but he doesn't let go, his hold gentle but unyielding.

I let out a sob of frustration at my helplessness. When I try to press away his muscles stiffen around my shoulders, but when I stop struggling he relaxes his grip. He places a hand on the back of my head, and guides my cheek to his chest. I can hear the thumping of his heart through his leather breastplate and the sound comforts me.

As my cries fade, I feel suddenly embarrassed at the awareness of how his body feels pressed against mine. I draw back again, and this time he lets me go.