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She nibbled her bread, watching him curiously. “I suppose mistress or lady is better than my lady. But it is still more than my name.” She looked displeased as she offered him cheese.
I cannot speak your name, for it will reveal my affections for you. He regarded her silently, before asking, “What will you find here? To take to the Goddess in offering?”
She turned her attention to the beach. “Shells of white and lavender and pink I shall string as a necklace or bracelet. Athena has a most discerning eye, so only those fine and delicate and whole are acceptable.” She ate a grape, silencing the conversation briefly. “I once found a pearl. After swimming for hours, that is. Athena was very pleased.”
Ariston imagined her, her tunic tucked up to allow her to swim, emerging from the sea with a triumphant smile and a pearl. Her long hair would have dangled about her thighs, her face alight over her treasure – beautiful and tempting. He shifted, his arousal immediate.
“A pearl?” His voice revealed nothing.
“It was a gift from my parents, I think.” She mused, her face closing. “They dearly loved to surprise me.”
His brow furrowed at her sudden change in disposition. “Should we try to find another?” He would cheer her – that much he could do.
She shook her head. “There will be no gifts now.”
“I will look.” He stood, seeking her approval. He would stay close and protect her, but do his best to make her happy as well.
Her face lightened and she smiled up at him, blue eyes sparkling. His heart ached anew. “You may try.”
He tossed his cloak on top of his shield and ran to the water’s edge. The water was warm, inviting him into the crystal clear depths. He turned to see her, tucking her skirts up around her legs and wading into the shallows behind him. The flash of her thigh, white, amidst the fall of her thick honey hair, gave him pause.
Sucking air into his lungs, he dove deep. Knife in hand, he began to chip away at the larger oysters at the base of the oldest rocks. If there was a pearl on this shore, he would find it for her.
For the Goddess.
The pale morning sunshine turned bright and hot, and still Ariston continued to dive and cut loose oysters from their rocky anchors. Each one he removed brought a twinge of hope. Only to have it dashed once he’d pried the shell apart to find it empty. This news had not surprised his lady, but he’d seen the sheen of tears fill her e
yes. It pained him to see her sadness.
After collecting a pile of empty oysters, he collapsed on the beach with a sigh. He could not bear to further disappoint her. His arms ached and his lungs protested any further dives, anyway.
He whistled, echoing the call of a gull as it swooped closer to the scraps of the breakfast. The gull answered, settling close to the blanket. He threw it the last bits of crust.
He felt her kneel beside him in the sand. “Can you teach me?” she asked as the gull lifted, riding the sea breeze higher into the midday sky.
“Possibly – it’s no easy trick.” He arched an eyebrow at her, knowing she would accept his challenge.
“It is said that a student’s only as good as her teacher, soldier,” she returned, smiling.
He laughed and she joined him. It was a glorious sound.
He taught her how to make the call of the gull. And when she mastered the call, she laughed with such delight that his pulse quickened.
“I fear I’ll not have enough for Athena, soldier, if you keep distracting me.” She stood and made her way back to the shore to wade into the water once more.
She trawled the shoreline, scooping bits of loveliness from the water and assessing their worth. If she was pleased with her find, she dropped it into the pocket the tuck of her tunic provided. If she deemed something unworthy, she tossed it over her shoulder to fall back into the water.
Normally, the bright sun and roaring waves reminded him of his tiny home of Rhodes, making him homesick. But today, watching her in the morning sun, he felt only happiness. She was a tribute to Athena, taking time to find only the best for her Goddess. It served as a reminder to him…
She glanced up, smiling at him.
He smiled back. He had no choice.
“Mistress?” a woman’s voice called from the hill above.
Ariston rose quickly, standing at the ready. But the young sprite of a girl who bounded down the rocky hill to the beach posed no threat, so Ariston returned to his resting place. He wrestled with a sense of disappointment. The fragile intimacy they’d built would be gone now. He would simply be Medusa’s guard once more.
“I’m here, Elpis,” Medusa called back.
