The Woman Who Vowed (The Demetrian)Harding, Ellison
Science
The Woman Who Vowed (The Demetrian)
Harding, Ellison
Science fiction; Utopias -- Fiction
I raised myself on one arm; and the young woman who had been kneeling
beside me arose also. I was dazed, and shaded my eyes from the sun on
the horizon--whether setting or rising I could not tell. I fixed my eyes
upon the feet of my companion; they were curiously shod in soft
leather, for cleanliness rather than for protection; tightly laced from
the toe to the ankle and half way up the leg--half-moccasin and
half-cothurnus. I fixed my eyes upon them and slowly became quite sure
that I was alive and awake, but seemed still dazed and unwilling to look
up. Presently she spoke.
"Are you ill?" she asked.
"I don't think so," answered I, as I lifted my eyes to hers.
When our eyes met I jumped to my feet with an alertness so fresh and
fruitful that I seemed to myself to have risen anew from the Fountain of
Youth. A miracle had happened. I was dead and had come to life
again--and apparently this time in the Olympian world.
"Héré!" I exclaimed; "or Athéné! Cytherea, or Artemis!"
Then quickly the look of sympathetic concern that I had just seen in her
eyes vanished. A ripple of laughter passed over her face like the first
touch of a breeze on a becalmed sea; for a moment she seemed to restrain
it, but her merriment awakened mine, and on perceiving it she abandoned
all restraint and burst into a laugh that was musical, bewitching, and
contagious. We stood there a full minute, both of us laughing, though I
did not understand why. She soon explained.
"Where on earth do you come from, Xenos, and where--_where_ did you get
_those_ things?" She pointed to my pantaloons as she spoke.
Then I discovered how ridiculous I appeared.
"And why have they cut all the hair off your face and left that ugly
little stubble?"
I put my hand to my chin and felt there a beard of several days' growth.
"It must prick dreadfully," she said; and coming up to me she daintily
passed a soft, rosy finger over my cheek. I caught her hand and kissed
it. She jumped away from me like a fawn.
"Take care, young man," she said, reprovingly but not reproachfully;
"though I don't suppose you are very young, for I see some gray in your
hair."
I don't suppose I liked being reminded of my years, but I was altogether
too much absorbed in the richness of her beauty and health to be
concerned about myself. And the subtle combination of freedom and
reserve in her manner conveyed to me an indescribable charm. At one
moment it tempted me to trespass, but at the next I became aware that
such an attempt would meet with humiliating resistance; for she was tall
and strong. Her one rapid movement away from me proved her agility. She
was perfectly able to take care of herself. Her consciousness of this
had enabled her to meet my first advance with unruffled good humor, but
I felt sure that persistence on my part would elicit repulsion and
perhaps scorn.
We stood a moment smiling at each other; then she said:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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