I could not possibly see what such a fine noble woman could see in my father. Aunt Laelia came up to us, tittering cheerfully, and gave my father a playful slap on the cheek.
“You’re not sitting here squabbling like a pair of young lovers, are you?” she said warningly. “It’s high time you calmed down, my dear Tullia. You’ve already had four husbands and the last “one has hardly had time to grow cold in his grave.”
“Exactly, dear Laelia,” admitted Tullia. “It is time I calmed down. That is why I am so unutterably glad to have found Marcus again. His presence calms me wonderfully.”
She turned to me.
“But you, young Achilles,” she went on, “your new sword makes my mind uneasy. If only I were ten years younger, I should ask you to come with me to look at the moon. But old as I am, I cannot. Go then and amuse yourself. Your father and I have much to settle together.”
When she mentioned the moon, I was disturbed and went up to the upper floor to remove my armor. I felt my shorn hair and my smooth cheeks and was suddenly disappointed and sad, for I had been waiting for this day for so long and had dreamed about it and now nothing was as I had expected. But I had to fulfill my promise to the oracle in Daphne.
I went out the back way and in the kitchen acknowledged the good wishes of the sweating slaves. I told them to eat and drink as much as they could manage, for there would be no more guests arriving now. At the gate I dutifully straightened up the almost extinguished torches and thought sadly that this was perhaps the greatest and most solemn day of my life. Life is just like a torch, which at first burns clearly and then is extinguished in fumes and smoke.
A girl wrapped in a brown mantle stepped out from the dark shadows of the wall.
“Minutus, Minutus,” she whispered. “I want to wish you happiness and have brought you these cakes which I baked for you myself. I was going to leave them with the slaves, but fate was kind to me and let me meet you myself.”
With horror, I recognized Claudia, against whom Aunt Laelia had warned me. But at the same time I was flattered that this strange girl had found out the day of my majority in order to wish me happiness. Quite unexpectedly a great rush of joy went through me when I saw her thick black eyebrows, her wide mouth and sunburned skin. She was different from all the aging soured guests who had gathered in our house. Claudia was living and real and genuine. She was my friend.
Claudia shyly brushed her hand across my cheek and was not at all as arrogant and self-confident as when we had first met.
“Minutus,” she whispered. “You’ve probably heard evil things about me, but I am not as bad as people make out. In fact I want to think only good thoughts now I have met you. In that way you’ve brought me happiness.”
We began to walk side by side toward the Moon temple. Claudia adjusted my toga at the neck and together we ate one of her cakes by taking turns at biting into it, just as we had done with her cheese at the library. The cake was spiced with honey and caraway. Claudia said she had collected the honey and caraway herself and ground the wheat-flour with her own hands in an old hand mill.
As we walked she did not take my arm, but shyly avoided touching me. Filled with my manhood, I took her arm and steered her around the potholes in the street. She sighed happily. In strictest confidence, I told her about my promise and said that I was now on my way to the Moon temple with my votive gift in a silver box.
“Ugh, that temple has a bad reputation!” cried Claudia. “Immoral mysteries go on there behind barred doors at night. It was a good thing I was standing outside your house. If you’d gone there alone, you might have lost more than your gift.
“I don’t even bother to watch the State sacrifices any longer,” she went on. “The gods are just stone and wood. That lying old man in Palatine is reviving old ceremonies just to bind people more firmly with the old chains. I have my own sacred tree and a clear sacrificial well. If I’m sad I go to the oracle at the Vatican and look at the birds flying.”
“You talk like my father,” I said. “He did not even want to let a seer read in a liver for me. But powers and witchcraft exist. Even sensible people admit that. So I prefer to fulfill my promise rather than not.”
We had reached the temple, which stood sunk in the ground. Fortunately the door stood wide open and inside a few small lamps were burning, but there was no one in sight as I hung my silver box up among the other temple gifts. I should really have rung the bell to summon the priestess, but to be honest I was afraid of her and did not at that particular moment wish to see her pale white face. I hurriedly dipped the tips of my fingers into the holy oil and rubbed them on the stone egg. Claudia smiled in amusement and placed a cake on the priestess’ empty stool as a gift. Then we ran out of the temple like two naughty children.
Outside in front of the temple, we kissed each other. Claudia held my head between her hands.
“Has your father already betrothed you,” she asked jealously, “or have you only been shown some Roman girls to choose from? That’s usually part of the coming of age ceremonies.”
I had not given even a thought to why Aunt Laelia’s old friends had brought a couple of small girls with them. They had stared at me with their fingers in their mouths. I thought they had been allowed to come to taste the sweetmeats and cakes.
“No, no,” I replied in fright. “My father has by no means considered marrying me to anyone.”
“Oh, if only I could control myself and tell you clearly my thoughts,” said Claudia sadly. “Don’t bind yourself to anyone too s’oon, will you? That brings a great deal of unhappiness. There are enough marriage breakers in Rome already. You probably still think the difference in our ages very great since I am five years older than you are. But as the years go by and you do your military service, the difference will seem less. You have eaten a cake I have baked and kissed my lips of your own free will. That does not tie you in any way, but I take it as a sign that I am not entirely repugnant to you. So I can do no more than ask you to remember me sometimes and not tie yourself to anyone else without first telling me.”
I had not the slightest intention of marrying, so I thought her request reasonable. I kissed her again and was warmed by holding her in my arms.
“That I can promise you,” I said, “as long as you don’t always want to be with me wherever I am. In fact I’ve never liked giggling girls of my own age and I like you because you are more mature and because you read books. I can’t remember the poets describing marriage ceremonies in their love poems. On the contrary, they describe love as free and untrammeled. It has nothing to do with hearth and home but is about the scent of roses and moonlight.”
Claudia was upset and drew back a little.
“You don’t know what you’re saying,” she said reproachfully. “Why shouldn’t I think about the scarlet veil, the saffron yellow mantle and the girdle with two knots. That is the innermost thought in every woman’s mind when she strokes a man’s cheeks and kisses his lips.”
Her protestations made me pull her roughly back into my arms, to kiss her reluctant lips and warm throat. But Claudia struggled free, gave me a sharp slap over the ear and burst into tears, which she then wiped away with the back of her hand.
“I thought you had other thoughts about me,” she sobbed. “This is all the thanks I get for controlling myself and believing only good of you. But you only want to fling me down on my back over there by the wall and press my knees apart to satisfy your lust. I’m not that sort of girl.”
Her tears made me weaken and cool down.
“You’re strong enough to defend yourself,” I said sullenly, “and I don’t even know if I could do what you say. I’ve never played about with slave-women and neither did my nurse seduce me. There’s no need for you to cry, for you’re certainly much more experienced in these matters than I am.”
Claudia was astonished at my words and forgot to cry as she stared at me in wonder.
“Are you telling me the truth?” she said. “I’ve always thought that boys behave like monkeys. The more noble they are, the more monkeylike their habits. But if you’re telling me the truth, then I have even more reason to control my trembling body. You would despise me if I gratified our desires. Our pleasure would be short-lived and soon forgotten.”
My cheek was stinging and the disappointment in my body made me snap at her, “You obviously know best.”
Without looking at her, I began to walk homeward. She hesitated for a moment and then slowly followed me and we said nothing to each other for a while. But in the end I had to burst out laughing. It was pleasant that she
