The Nymph

ATHENS

When we arrive at Athens, Androkles tells the men to be ready to depart the morning of the third day.

"Ready?" he asks, turning to me.

"I get to come?"

"Yes," he says, laughing at my excitement, "but we're just going in today so I can purchase supplies. You're coming with me, because I don't think I could make anyone stay behind."

"No," I say, looking around at the bustling crew. "I don't think you could."

"Just tell me what you need and I'll purchase it while we're here." I'm hesitant to ask Androkles for anything, but request herbs, just in case. I only have one garment which is getting ragged, so I also ask for cloth to fashion myself another peplos.

Androkles asks a few men to accompany him to help carry supplies back to the ship for the last leg of the journey. The men are excited to be on Achaean soil again, and I'm eager to get off the ship and explore.

I can smell unfamiliar dishes from the homes we pass. Androkles stops at a particularly delicious-smelling shop and we enjoy the fresh bread together.

The men are eager to have business out of the way, and soon almost all the supplies are procured. Androkles and Lysander go into the last crowded shop, leaving the rest of us waiting in the street.

I've wandered to peek into a nearby shop when I hear a man ask, "What is this woman doing in the street?" I glance around, curious to see the offender. Mydon calls to me, and I move back to where he's standing. He steps between me and a man facing us in the street. The other men seem tense, and gather beside Mydon, as well.

"She's with us." Mydon speaks up. Me? What did I do?

"Are you her master?" The man addresses Mydon, who turns red and shakes his head. He stares, waiting for someone to explain. "What, none of you?" He's shocked.

"What's going on?" I turn in relief at Androkles' voice. His eyes widen at the strange stand-off. He beckons to me and I move to him, still confused.

"So- you must be her master. Aren't you going to punish her?"

He takes my hand and I cling to his arm. "What is she meant to have done?"

"Meant to- are you blind? She's in public, in the company of soldiers."

"I see," he says, and his posture relaxes. "Forgive us, we've been at war so long, we seem to have forgotten how to be civilized."

"You were at Ilion?" the Athenian asks with interest. "We've been eager for news."

The rest of the men relax, and one starts up with, "Well you heard how it ended, didn't you? No? You won't believe how we fooled those Trojans..." I'm relieved that the attention is directed elsewhere, and wonder if Androkles knew it would do the trick.

We turn to sneak away just as Lysander steps into the street, and Androkles asks him to see that the men get the supplies back to the ship.

It's only as we slip away that my anger catches-up with me. Why couldn't that man just let me be? If I were a man, even a slave, no one would have cared. It's so unfair. Then I realize it's always been this way, but the journey has given us a certain freedom. That Androkles, and even his men, have been treating me with a respect that a woman would normally never receive. Rather than being grateful at the realization, I worry- What will happen in Mycenae? If I'm not his slave, can I be anything to him? Surely, he would be shunned for taking an unattached woman into his home. What did you think was going to happen? I scold myself.

Androkles interrupts my thoughts. "Does it pain you to hear?" I blink at him, so he prompts gently- "About Ilion."

"Oh. That's considerate of you, but I suppose not." It hadn't occurred to me, but I feel the need to explain my apathy. "I hated the war. I saw so much pain and suffering- not just the wounded. I still have night mares."