The Nymph

THE ISLAND

The next morning a small vegetated island is spotted and Androkles gives the orders to land. I can't wait to stand on solid ground, especially after the storm, and the excitement on the ship is evidence that I'm not the only one. Once everything is secured, Androkles leads us onto the beach. It's unfamiliar, and I want to explore.

Androkles organizes hunting groups and I start off after a cluster of men headed toward the tree line. He calls-out after me, and I turn in surprise to go back to him.

"I don't know whether the island is safe, Kleomede," he says. "You're staying here."

I gasp and turn longingly to the woods, and my shoulders sink. I look back to him and nod obediently.

"There's plenty for you to explore when we get to Hellas," he says, smiling sympathetically at my disappointment, "just be patient."

He glances up the beach, and I look also to see the men disappearing into the trees. Suddenly he draws me against him and I inhale in surprise, then moan in pleasure when his lips claim mine. He gentles the kiss and I melt in his arms, light-headed with happiness.

"Androkles?" I whisper sleepily when he draws away.

"Hm?"

"Hurry back."

He chuckles and kisses my forehead, then calls after Damon and Lysander to stay behind with me. I can tell they're also disappointed but neither argues.

"I'm trusting you to protect her while I'm gone," Androkles tells them. "If I find she's been hurt when I get back," he threatens, "I'm leaving you both on this island." They look to me in surprise, and I redden in apology.

The hours go by and I walk up and down the beach enjoying the sand, warm and solid beneath my feet. I also wade into the cool water and wish I could go out further, but Lysander warned me there may be currents.

Damon starts a fire as the sky darkens, and I help collect kindling. I'm fighting to keep my eyes open by the time we hear the hunters returning. I rush toward them to greet Androkles, but only make-out silhouettes at first. Then I recognize Androkles' form and my heart skips as I run up to him. He holds his hand out before I reach him, motioning me to stop. I step aside, hurt. Then the firelight falls on an arrow protruding from his upper arm. I gasp in concern, but his expression doesn't betray pain. He lowers himself to recline against a boulder next to the fire and I kneel beside him. He reaches for the arrow, and appears to be bracing himself.

I panic and reach-out to stop him.

"No! You might bleed to death doing it that way." He looks at me but doesn't let go of the shaft. "Just wait, we'll take care of it."

He nods then reluctantly releases the arrow and leans back. I turn to the men now gathered around him and am met with pale, blank faces. I gather my courage knowing Androkles needs me.

"We'll need to boil water and get strips of cloth to wrap the wound," I explain.

No one moves.

"Please, he needs clean cloths, otherwise..."

One of the men- I don't know his name- cuts me off. "I don't take orders from women, and you're just a slave. Why should we listen to you?"

"Enough!" Androkles barks, then groans from the exertion. After several pained breaths he explains, "She's no one's slave. Do as she says."

Mine isn't the only face showing surprise at this statement. Lysander is the first to take action and moves to get cloths. I ask Mydon, who is hovering nearest Androkles, to get a bucket of water and another man is sent for more wood for the fire.