You people in the first place. What

As big as Babylon. Slender white columns. Leaves carved over doorways and into cornices. And everywhere men in white wraps. Near dusk, a baker and his two sons chucked me out into the street. Instead of getting up and heading on like I had a dozen times before, I sat in the packed dirt, head humming with fatigue, and decided to go down to the bay to finish the drowning I hadn't quite completed in the straits off Euboea. You look awfully happy for such a dirty mongrel. A blond woman stood over me, smiling like a newlywed, rich and clean and young. That's because I'm about to kill myself. Is that considered exciting wherever imobiliare bucuresti you're from? I flailed at her from my seat in the dirt. Compared to life without my wife, it'll be splendid. You wretch! She held her hand to her breast. google Did she leave you? She thinks I died in the war. I came as soon as I heard she was in Syracuse, but I think she's gone forever. I doubt that. What's her name? Demostrate. Of Athens. The woman blinked, ing her head. Long dark hair? Eyes as blue as the bay? Tits that could knock a man off a horse? I bolted to my imobiliare bucuresti feet. Where is she? She left two weeks ago, the woman said. With my husband. The world tilted. My tailbone banged into the dirt. As if that had shaken something loose inside me, tears fell from my eyes, peppering the dirt. I know. She knelt to squeeze my shoulder, white robes folding into the muck of the street. You look like you've been sleeping in a butcher's gutter. Come get cleaned up at my house. My imobiliare bucuresti name's Seria. You must be Andronikos. Wordlessly, I rose and let her lead me to two slaves waiting up the street. She pulled them aside to explain why she'd picked up this filthy, bearded, reeking foreigner, then took me home. It was absurdly rich, a clical palace of columns and marble with a sunny green courtyard grown half wild. Bitterly, I reflected that at least Demostrate would be well cared for. There, I was bathed, barbered, fed. How could she have run off with another woman's husband? Had grief over my death warped her that far? After my meal, I excused myself to vomit in a secluded corner of the courtyard, literally sickened by her betrayal. Funny how a starving body forgets what to do with food. Seria had materialized beside me. Want some wine to wash out the taste? Lots. She returned with a blanket which she spread on a patch of gr. I seated myself and stared at my knees. Some time later, a servant waddled up with a jug clasped in both hands, his chin tucked against its top. Seria shooed him away, pouring our cups herself. Red wine splashed from the heavy jug, bleeding into the thick gray blanket. She sighed. Everywhere a mess. bucuresti I slugged down my cup, refilled it. What happened? She showed up last summer. Gorgeous. Suntanned bronze from sailing around looking for you. Your captain Xippian was from here, you know. She came to see if he knew what happened to you. Did he tell her I died at Artemisium? He said you'd fallen overboard, she frowned. That you'd probably drowned, but that the winds of war scatter soldiers too often to be sure. The wine was fruity yet bitter. We'd pitched our picnic in the shade, but I was sweating into my new white robe. What did she do then? Why did she stay? Well,