His friend had walked away with her the previous night. They were celebrating their victory against the Spartans and had thrown one of their epic parties. The sudden disappearance of a soldier wasn´t amiss in this sort of event; many of them laid comatose in the bushes or meandered towards their respective homes, even though they were hundreds of miles away from them.
However, Arsenios knew something was wrong when he saw her walk among the ranks completely sober that same morning. He followed her carefully and saw her enter a tent, followed by a drunk soldier. He didn´t dare get closer at the beginning, because the soldier who´d entered the tent had a higher rank tan his, but after a couple of minutes of hesitation he overcame his fears and walked up to the tent. He looked for one of the seams in the canvas to peep inside, but what he saw perplexed him. She was lying, her legs wide open, on a mat, and there was no trace of the Roman soldier. She looked inebriated and exhausted, the same as most of the men outside the tent, but they had eaten till their bellies couldn’t hold any more food and then they had drunk till the liquid came out of their noses, and she hadn´t done any of it. He´d watched her the previous night and she hadn´t touched any food nor drunk any wine, and nevertheless now she looked as if she´d been drinking the whole evening.
He didn´t know what to do, he was lost in his thoughts, when suddenly he realized she was looking at him. Her stare was as aimless as that of a drunkard, but she was clearly looking in his direction. He thought it might be a coincidence, but then he heard her whisper at first, then speak softly, then almost shout: Come in! A chill ran though his spine. It was everything he wanted. He was a soldier, so he wasn´t used to hesitating twice in the same day, so he went resolutely towards the entrance of the tent and lifted the lap. Her legs laid wide open, inviting him to enter. He did. He got closer to her and some primeval feeling told him not to go for the mouth or breasts but directly for the prize. He did. He plunged headlong between her legs, imbibed with her wild scent. He devoured her with his eyes, and his eyes were maniacally focused on the prize. Nothing else mattered: not her feelings, her desire or even her consent. He tried the sour-sweet taste with his tongue and then he felt an urge to drown on it. He plunged further in, first only his head, then his whole torso. He felt ecstatic, as if he´d been reborn. He pulled himself up and was able to stand, the slit below him contracting as he came out of it. He knew he´d remain there forever, but he didn´t mind. He now remembered his missing friend and felt the need to look for him. The place was immensely high and infinitely wide, so he didn´t know which direction to take. He walked for twenty minutes with no improvement. In the end, he gave up to a sudden feeling of torpor and he cuddled on the soft and warm floor.
He was woken up by battle cries. The Spartan had launched a new attack and caught them by surprise. He was surrounded by his fellow soldiers, among them his lost friend. Everything looked as usual, but the sky was starless. It was pit black. The battle was fought for hours on end till a new victory was attained. He laid down to rest, but when he woke up it was still dark. Not even the moon was visible. He saw the hopelessness on his fellow soldiers´ faces. He asked his friend what was going on and his look was the only answer he needed. They had all been trapped inside, one by one, every single Roman soldier, then all the Greeks, had entered her and now there was no way out.