VOLUMEN XXI

Alter ipse amicus.

My friend had already done so much for me that I could never dream of asking for anything more. However, for some unexplained reason, he seemed to have taken a keen interest in a Greek merchant. He began bringing the man dead birds and dormice. I never saw him do it, but everyone in the forum was more than eager to relate the tale.

There was only one course of action: I must find the merchant and explain my friend's actions. Amicus didn't mean any harm, and I was certain a reasonable solution could be reached quickly.

Once when I was searching for him, a small child tugged on my toga, held out a doll, and asked, "Can I have this one?"

When I turned to face her, she apologized, saying she had mistaken me for her father.

I chuckled. "Anyone's entitled to an honest mistake. Here. Take this coin and buy your doll. You should have enough left over for a pastry, but make sure you eat first."

The little girl thanked me and ran off to make her purchases. Shortly afterwards, she returned.

"You have a toga," she pointed out, "so you're a Roman citizen."

"I am," I answered.

"Do you like nailing people to the ugly trees without leaves?"

Before our conversation could continue, a man rushed over to where we stood.

"Is my daughter bothering you?" he asked.

"Not at all," I replied. "She's got a curious mind. It's a sign of intelligence."

He smiled for a moment, but when he saw the lion, he frowned.

"Is something wrong?" I inquired.

"Are you the cat owner?"

I laughed and explained that no one owns a cat. Dogs have masters; cats have slaves. However, I did admit that the lion did indeed reside with me.

"He leaves me dead animals," the man stated.

"So you're the merchant I've been looking for!"

I explained that cats often bring dead animals as presents for their human friends. This practice is to make us proud of the cat's hunting skill and help us feel assured that even though we are too pathetic to hunt prey, our cat is a good enough provider for the both of us.

"Does your cat bring you dead animals?" the merchant queried.

"He used to do it all the time." I changed the subject. "You speak Latin well. I barely hear the Greek accent."

"Compared to other men, you have a trace of accent yourself." He extended his hand. "I'm Nikephoros, by the way."

I could scarcely believe what I was hearing as I accepted and lightly shook the hand he offered.

"Too good for your fellow Greeks now that you have a toga?" he asked.

"It's not that," I assured him. "It's just that you and I resemble each other a bit, and you have the same name as my older brother that I never met."

I began telling him the story, and he was able to finish it. Now I understood why Amicus had been leaving food for Nikephoros: my friend had somehow sensed that this man was a bit like me in some ways, and he was showing his acceptance.

Nikephoros brought me back to his stall and introduced me to his wife, Glykeria, and their two daughters, Halkyone and Kallisto. Judging from my sister-in-law's swollen waist, she carried another child.

I could scarcely believe what was happening. When I had awakened that morning, I had no relatives, and now all of a sudden, I had a brother and a sister-in-law and two nieces. Was it truly possible?

Realizing we had much to discuss, I invited the family over for dinner so we could get to know each other better without half the forum knowing our business. They graciously accepted, and I purchased the necessary items for the feast. I made sure to buy a choice cut of veal for Amicus to thank him for introducing us.

I spent all day preparing quail eggs, fish, legumes, and fruit. I then cooked a few shellfish and baked bread. Something seemed to be missing, so I started toward the woods.

After all our time together, Amicus had learned how to tell when I was hunting. I never took weapons, for he always captured game for me. Less than a half hour after I set foot in the forest, he was dragging a large deer.

My brother's family did not cease to compliment me on how fresh the venison tasted. I wasn't sure whether or not they would be squeamish if they knew their meat had been killed by a lion, so I said nothing about the incident. I did, however, leave the innards in a bowl in the garden so Amicus could enjoy his favorite parts of the animal in peace. (I preferred meat made from the muscle.)

Nikephoros and I began by discussing our lives, catching up on all we had missed over the years. While the adults spoke, the children played with their toys on the floor or tried to ride the lion or braid his mane. Amicus patiently allowed them to use him as a large toy, and I think he secretly enjoyed the attention.

Having been given a proper education, Nikephoros had earned a name for himself among other merchants as a man of integrity, wisdom, and a natural talent for striking a bargain. Any man would have been proud to have him as a son-in-law, so his father had no trouble finding a suitable bride.

However, the marriage was troubled from the beginning. For the first several weeks, Glykeria had been a dutiful wife, deferring to her husband in all matters. Although he noticed that she seemed unhappy, Nikephoros simply assumed she was still frightened, not yet accustomed to being a wife, especially of a man she barely knew.

One night as he went to their chamber, Nikephoros saw his wife beating the floor. She got as close as she could to it before talking loudly to make sure Adis would be able to hear her.

"Let me lie in your arms tonight rather than my husband's!" she pleaded, raising a knife she had used to prepare their evening meal.

"Wait!" Nikephoros exclaimed.

Glykeria turned to face him, fighting back the tears that stung her eyes. "Don't try to stop me!"

"Let's talk about this."

"There's nothing to say!" she retorted. "I'm not the woman you think I am! I've always been independent. Some would call it headstrong. Do you think I'm happy now that I no longer have a say in how I live in my own home or what it would please me to do with my own life?!"

"I'm not the man you think I am either," Nikephoros calmly replied. "Do you think I am not interested in what my wife thinks of our home?"

"I know what interest you have in your wife!"

To show her contempt, Glykeria spat at their marriage bed, just barely missing the blankets.

"Very well. Take a guestroom," Nikephoros stated. "We won't share this one again until further notice."

Glykeria frowned, perplexed at her husband's words. "Don't you want sons?"

"No," he answered. "I want children to share the love of a happy home, not as symbols of status."

"You say that now, but if I were to bear a daughter…!"

"I would accept whatever gift the gods gave us."

"Even if the baby were deformed?!"

Nikephoros crossed the room and took the knife from his wife's hand, gently placing it on the nearby table. "Do you want to try to make this marriage work, or am I such a horrible man that you would truly rather throw away your life than share it with me?"

Glykeria was still unsure, but Nikephoros eventually managed to convince her to delay suicide. He made sure to ask her opinions on matters of the home, and he remembered subtle acts of kindness, such as bringing her a bouquet of wildflowers or buying little trinkets that were exchanged for the goods he sold in the agora.

In time, they had become compatible. To this day, they did not yet love each other deeply, as a man and wife should, but over the years, they had become fond of each other.

"We thank the gods that I have borne daughters," Glykeria informed me.

"They are beautiful," I agreed.

She thanked me for my compliment, but she explained that she had visited Delphi when she had first discovered the physical signs that indicated that she carried new life within her body. The Pythia had stated that any female children would be born in strength and health, but the firstborn male would cause his mother's death before his stillborn birth if not delivered among traitors.

Unsure of the meaning of the prophecy, Glykeria had been frightened, but when she had gone to the birthing stool, the midwife had announced the arrival of a daughter. The second child had also been a girl.

"Now I fear I carry an infant once more," Glykeria sighed, "and I fear this one is a son."

I was at a loss for words, for as an unmarried man, I knew nothing of such matters. I could only pray my little nephew and his mother would survive.

I wondered what would happen if a lioness ever escaped from the arena and made her way into the woods. Would Amicus find her and take her as his mate? Would there be little cubs that grew into fearsome lions like their father? The thought was nearly terrifying! However, I was grateful to my friend for introducing me to my family, and I only wished I could do the same for him.

A friend is another self.