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Earth and Water Chapter One Hippocrates Sister |
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I blushed despite myself, used to
Hippocrotes' brash impiety but incongruously, in the midst of battle, seeing an
image of Andronica as the moon rose in the hills above the city. We'd gone there a few nights before the fleet
departed, intent on stealing whatever time we could, knowing it could be a long
while before we saw one another again.
"Lysis," she'd said, leading me
under a large, gnarled plane tree that sheltered a moss- lined stone grotto,
"how long have we known each other?"
"Since you were younger than this
summer grass." I'd answered. "A long
time."
Her dark moon-frosted hair had
glistened then, and her eyes, moist and round in the shimmering light, had
looked up at me softly. She'd stretched
her lithe body and reached her arms around my neck, pulling me closer until her
lips gently brushed mine and my own arms encircled her waist, drawing her
willing body tightly to my hips. She'd
sighed deeply and kissed my cheek, whispering in my ear.
"And in all that time," she'd
breathed, "have you always thought of me?
Have I always been yours?"
"Always," I'd said, feeling the surging
course of my desire. "You have been
forever in my dreams."
"And you in mine," She'd replied,
pulling me to the gentle grass as a soft breeze stirred the suddenly charged
air around us.
"Make love to me, Lysis," She'd
said quietly. "Make love to me and come
home to me. You are my life and my
love. I can love no other."
"Nor I, my dear sweet love, nor I."
And we did love each other then, in
the hills above a city girding for war, even as the nightingales trilled in
their leafy homes and the pale evening stars winked fitfully above, blanketing
the heavens with unchanging certainty.
But here I was now, in the midst of
savage strife, as far away from the soft embrace of my love as I could have
ever imagined on that warm summer night.
Hippocrotes had seen my temporarily glazed over look, and grinned.
"Get back here, you lecherous dog!"
he shouted. "Thinking of my sister that
way! That won't do, won't do at
all. Why, when we get home, I'll have
to-"
"Quiet!" snapped Patrocles. "Look
sharp, or I'll do the work of the enemy for him!"
Hippocrotes feigned hurt, but his
eyes twinkled with oafish mirth. "Yes, commander!" he barked. "I'll remember
that."
"Best that you do," responded the
veteran marine. "May the gods give you
the time to do so."
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