The Nymph

MYCENAE

The long-awaited day arrives, and we make land for the final time. Androkles borrows horses and a chariot for the road to Mycenae. He reserves only what the two of us will need, and the rest is sent ahead with the men. He splits the journey into two days, unwilling to risk a faster pace for my sake. It's my first time riding in a chariot, and I enjoy the experience and the feel of Androkles' arms around me. He excitedly tells me about all the familiar landmarks, and I feel guilty delaying his arrival. On the second afternoon we reach the city, which is nestled between two hills. "How many times have I wondered if I would ever return home?" Androkles muses aloud, wrapping his arm tighter across my middle. "I often imagined this moment, but never imagined I would be bringing my greatest treasure home with me." My heart flutters, and I smile and shake my head in wonder. He turns me to him and peers into my face. "What?" he laughs.

"Just when I think my heart is full, you make me love you even more." He lifts my face to his and kisses me sweetly.

Androkles leaves the horses at the stables and we walk together to his home. From the outside it looks like all the rest, but I can tell Androkles is emotional so I try to see it through his eyes.

He stands at the entryway and peers in, then turns back to me. I start to go inside, but he laughs and stops me. "Wait a minute, the bride can't walk into her new home." Before I know what's happening, he sweeps me up and steps sideways to carry me through the doorway then sets me down again.

"What was that about?" I can't help but smile at his pleased expression in spite of my confusion.

"You might trip and bring bad luck," he teases. "Usually the servants do that. Speaking of which," he says glancing around the empty courtyard. Then a woman steps-out and her face lights up with joy. "Morea!"

I step back to observe the affectionate reunion of the elderly servant with her master. She greets him as a son, weeping over the time gone. He seems pleased to see her, but pries himself free to draw me to his side. "Morea, this is my wife- Kleomede." She embraces me, too, and tears spill onto my cheeks at her motherly touch. She holds me at arm's length and congratulates Androkles, who smiles proudly.

As an afterthought, she turns to me and says, "And don't fret, I've welcomed many little ones into this world and I'll be there for your first." I look to Androkles in surprise but he just shrugs his shoulders.

The other servants have gathered, and Androkles greets those he remembers. Morea introduces the rest to the master of the house and his new bride.

Androkles is eager to hear the state of the household. As he talks business with one of the male servants, Morea ushers me away to show me the women's rooms. I marvel at the size of the home, never having suspected it would be so large inside. She chatters away as she makes me comfortable in my new chambers. Then she gives me a true luxury and prepares me a bath. The warm water is bliss for my aching body. As I soak, I realize I can't remember a time when I've felt so relaxed. When I get out, I feel truly refreshed- cleansed from the trauma of the war and the journey here.

Androkles finds me and gives me a tour of the rest of the house. He saves the bedroom for last, and we enjoy the intimacy it offers.

We soon settle into a routine. After the novelty of my new home fades, I'm faced with the familiar problem of keeping myself occupied. The house is able to afford many servants, so there's little for me to do other than weaving or knitting. Morea is my primary companion, joining me in the gynaeceum when her other chores allow.

Androkles is attentive and loving when he's home. I learn to savor the time with him in the mornings before he goes out to handle business and socialize in the afternoons and evenings. I envy him, that his days have variety and camaraderie. The most precious part of each day is when he comes home and takes me in his arms. He often brings news of the men, many of whom live in the city. Several are soon married, including Mydon. I notice he doesn't mention Lysander, but don't ask after him.

One night I feel the baby stirring in my belly, and wake Androkles so he can feel it, too. I yearn to hold the baby in my arms, but try not to dwell on the approaching birth.

I begin to suspect that something is weighing heavy on Androkles' mind. By now, I trust him to be open with me, and wait for him to share what's troubling him. One evening he returns home in a particularly reflective mood. He embraces me as always and kisses my belly, greeting the baby, but then sighs and turns away. "Is it awful that some days I miss the war?" I'm silent, waiting for him to explain. "I was active, I had purpose."

I'm surprised by this revelation. "Don't you have that now?"

He waves his hand dismissively. "I yearn to accomplish something, not just stand around talking."

He's not expecting me to have the answer, so I simply hold him and say, "I'm glad you told me, I've been worried."

I'm restless the next day after a fitful night's sleep and am unable to concentrate on my work. If Morea notices she doesn't comment, just chatters away as usual. I gasp at a sudden tightness and put aside my knitting. Concerned, I look to Morea, who just nods and smiles. "Getting to be time, then." She never stops her work so I resume mine again, relieved by her calmness. We work together as usual that morning, but I'm anxious and wish more than ever that Androkles were home. The waves of pain are stronger in the afternoon, and I finally set-aside the shawl which keeps getting interrupted. I stand and pace the room fretfully and Morea asks for my dinner to be brought up. I settle long enough to eat, then continue pacing.

I'm relieved when Androkles finally returns, but after a brief embrace Morea shoos him out of his own bedroom.

Hearing my groans, the female servants gather and Morea directs them in preparations for the birth. She has a bath drawn for me, and I find comfort in the warm water. After a long soak, I once again pace the room. Morea's eyebrows furrow and I start to worry, but I relax again after she dismisses the other servants. I feel a sudden urgency once the room is cleared, and Morea is ready to catch the baby.

I lie back on the couch as Morea kneels to bathe the tiny person. Androkles rushes in, hearing the cries. His face is pale as he looks to me, then the baby on the floor. I smile proudly at him, and he sighs in relief. Androkles crouches beside Morea and picks-up the baby. She lets out a whoop, and cheers echo in the house. He hands me our baby- our son. I lean back against Androkles and we gaze together in wonder at this new little person.

The days following are full of joy. Androkles names our son after his father- Leonidas, and proudly hangs the olive wreath announcing the birth. Leonidas is always in my arms, except when Morea or his father are allowed to hold him. My heart overflows to see Androkles delight in his son, and sometimes tears fill my eyes when I think of how much he's loved. I still miss Androkles when he's away, but my days are now filled with love and purpose with caring for my little Leonidas.