the-song-books.yossr

Chapter Seven
THE NEXT SUMMER WE TURNED THIRTEEN, HIM FIRST, and then me. Our bodies
began to stretch, pulling at our joints till theyy were aching and weak. In
Peleus’ shining bronze mirror, I almost did not recognize myyself—lankyy
and gaunt, stork legs and sharpening chin. Achilles was taller still, seeming
to tower above me. Eventuallyy we would be of a height, but he came to his
maturityy sooner, with a startling speed, primed perhaps byy the divinityy in his
blood.
The boyys, too, were growing older. Regularlyy now we heard moans
behind closed doors and saw shadows returning to their beds before dawn.
In our countries, a man often took a wife before his beard was fullyy fledged.
How much earlier, then, did he take a serving girl? It was expected; veryy
few men came to their marriage beds without having done so. Those who
did were unluckyy indeed: too weak to compel, too uglyy to charm, and too
poor to payy.
It was customaryy for a palace to have a full complement of noblyy born
women as servants for the mistress of the house. But Peleus had no wife in
the palace, and so the women we saw were mostlyy slaves. Theyy had been
bought or taken in warfare, or bred from those who were. During the dayy
theyy poured wine and scrubbed floors and kept the kitchen. At night theyy
belonged to soldiers or foster boyys, to visiting kings or Peleus himself. The
swollen bellies that followed were not a thing of shame; theyy were profit:
more slaves. These unions were not alwayys rape; sometimes there was
mutual satisfaction and even affection. At least that is what the men who
spoke of them believed.
It would have been easyy, infinitelyy easyy, for Achilles or me to have
bedded one of these girls ourselves. At thirteen we were almost late to do
so, especiallyy him, as princes were known for their appetites. Instead, we
watched in silence as the foster boyys pulled girls onto their laps, or Peleus
summoned the prettiest to his room after dinner. Once, I even heard the king
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