The Hadrian Enigma - A Forbidden History (16 page)

However since the violent expulsion of rebellious Judaeans at Alexandria in the days of the previous Caesar, Trajan --- I am told Judaeans were once a quarter of the city’s population --- these priests have been buying up available property at cut-rate prices. They’re hungry for political influence to re-establish their cult, so owning property is the best path to wealth and influence.

Nowadays in Besa they reside at the small, very ancient temple outside the town by the riverside. The temple lies on high ground above an inlet adjacent to where Caesar’s two barques are moored. It’s hard to find, it is so well hidden in the palms.”

“
Where did you learn all this history, woman?” Clarus enquired with astonishment.

Surisca hung her head demurely, as befits a mere woman.

“
The wisest of my trade keep an eye of such matters, my lord. We must be prudent stewards of our own hard-earned wealth, and so we follow such things,” Surisca replied.

Urbicus looked to the group for new instructions.

“
Centurion Quintus Urbicus,” Suetonius commanded, “search for such a vessel with the two fishermen. If you find the vessel, confirm the boat’s owner and report on who was sailing this craft on the night or morning of Antinous’s death. Report to me no later than three hours after sunrise tomorrow.

And, Praetorian, do not wear your Guard uniforms, dress in more informal clothes which will not arouse suspicion. Blend with the lower orders, Centurion.”

Urbicus saluted and swept away accompanied by his two troops.

“
Thank you, Surisca,” Suetonius proffered as graciously as he could. “You’ve earned your keep already.”

The courtesan smiled weakly at this unlikely prospect.

“
Julius Vestinus,” Suetonius called, “your staff will be in a position to make contact tonight with each of the following list of people to make them available to us at hourly intervals tomorrow for interview. They should be in the following order ---

First, Lysias immediately after sunrise. Perhaps Geta the Dacian at one hour after sunrise. Senator Arrian of Bithynia at two hours after sunrise, and the slave Thais of Cyrene at three hours after sunrise, so we can get a grasp on the entire situation. Other names are likely to arise in the course of our interviews. This should give us coverage of the important people in Antinous’s life, and perhaps even his death.

Julia Balbilla of the empress’s household at
The Dionysus
moored offshore can join us at high sun, with the Master of the Hunt, Salvius Julianus, or the Egyptian miracle-worker Pachrates waiting until soon after. We will probably have others to follow, but we must move speedily.”

Surisca once again raised a timorous hand. The biographer nodded.

“
Did you say
Pachrates
the Egyptian priest, master?” she asked hesitantly.

“
Yes, Surisca, I did,” Suetonius said. By acknowledging her familiar name he had tacitly acknowledged she was now a 
person,
not a functionary of no status or particular gender.

“
Why, my dear? Do you know something of this priest?”

“
I know things about him, master, from my trade,” she replied. But then she became silent.

“
Tell us, my dear,” Suetonius prompted, “what do you wish to say?”

It seemed Surisca had resiled abruptly from making a comment about Pachrates.

“
Come on, my dear. Feel free to talk.”

“
I am mistaken, my lord, I confused the name with another. Please forgive me, master.”

But Suetonius didn’t think she was deceiving anyone in the chamber. They each realized she was hiding something of interest. Clarus interjected.

“
Woman, if you have something to tell us, then tell us. Otherwise hold your tongue or do not speak,” he commanded in his booming magisterial tone.

Clarus was likely to consider Surisca an uneducated foreigner of zero social status, plus a mere woman at that, who offended the proper pecking order of knowledge.

“
We’ll talk later,” Suetonius said to Surisca with an evasive wink to ease the rebuff.

Lysias began to rise from his chair.

“
Am I to be discharged, my lords, from further interview tonight?” he asked politely. Suetonius shook his head.

“
No, Bithynian. We have barely begun. We must continue your interview to learn all we can about your deceased friend. Time presses upon us.”

Clarus and Vestinus heaved sighs of regret. Suetonius continued.

“
We have only two days to discover how and why Antinous has died. So be seated, lad. You still have not told us how Caesar came to be involved with you two fellows. We need to know. Yes, you have told us of your mutual thoughts about the
erastes/eromenos
custom, and of your personal friendship, but you haven’t told us how you caught Caesar’s eye. Explain it to us!”

Lysias drew himself back into his seat and fumbled distractedly with clothing items.

“
It is an involved story, sirs. Two weeks after our hunting trek into the Pontines, Antinous and I competed in games at
Polis
in honor of Great Caesar’s visit. We wrestled, we sprinted in armor, we cast javelin. Both Ant and I were victors in various games before Caesar’s eyes.

Some days later we were summoned by Caesar’s marshals to attend an Imperial Hunt being held at Councilor Arrian’s estates outside Nicomedia. This was a very great honor, so we took to the opportunity with relish. I can recall that day and night well, yet we had several questions about our participation.”

Lysias shifted once again into reminiscence mode and began his recollections.

“
I wonder why there’ll be only five or six of us?” Antinous asked me as our two ponies Tiny and Blaze ambled along a dusty road outside Nicomedia.

We were followed by our wagon stacked with provisions drawn by donkeys, and four walking servants, two spare colts in tow, plus the mule recently snared in the Pontine forests.

“
Surely an Imperial Hunt would attract guys from all over the province, wouldn’t it? Keen hunters would appear from everywhere,” Antinous added. I too wondered about this.

“
Maybe today’s hunt is strictly for some special purpose? Lord Arrian said it was an occasion that should make us proud. Arrian seems to know all these things,” I proposed. “Arrian and my family Elder said our
palaestra
wins before Caesar were the deciding factor. Caesar’s assessment of the winners in their events was crucial. I beat you in the wrestle-bout as usual, Ant, and you won your javelin and armored sprint event outright, so maybe Caesar has summoned the key victors for a special celebration?”

“
Yet not a single one of the other victors at the
Polis
games has been invited, Lys. Just we two, plus several others from across the province who didn’t even compete in our games. There must be some other reason we don’t yet know?”

We turned a corner of the trail where the landscape ahead opened out.

“
Great Apollo
, Lys! We’re there! There it is!” I recall Antinous gasping.

Our party arrived at Arrian’s countryside complex of stud farm, vineyards, and vegetable gardens around a palatial villa. It lies a few miles inland from the port of Nicomedia by the Sea of Marmara. The farm was the essential acreage necessary to provision Arrian’s lifestyle.

But beyond the cultivated gardens and grazing paddocks lay a vast assembly of tents, pavilions, and marquees. It was the touring Imperial Household. It was the first time Ant and I had seen Caesar’s famous portable palace. The massed array of tents was defended by troops bristling with armor and weapons which glistened in the morning sun. It was a spectacle of fluttering pennants, high vaulted marquees, and busy workers.

“
It’s Hadrian’s travelling Palatine itself!
Holy Zeus,
Lys!” he yelped.

“
I don’t know what we did at the boy’s games at
Polis
, but obviously Caesar thought we were worth seeing more of!” I found myself spluttering aloud to all.

Our party was greeted by a welcoming cohort of the Guard cavalry. We were escorted into the stockaded tent complex and ambled along its central avenue to its parade ground before a massive Imperial Marquee. It faced a long plain before the tents. This plain extended beyond the pavilions towards low hills.

The plain’s rocky scrubland had been netted at the sides by attendants and slaves, with the nets extending into the far distance. It seemed the Hunt was to be held within a controlled funnel of netting, just as the huntsmen of
Polis
construct when trying to entrap a bear or boar to sell unhurt to dealers in animals for the arenas.

Without noticeable ceremony, Caesar Hadrian followed by Lord Arrian and other officials appeared from within the Marquee to greet our two parties. Both men were casually dressed in the long
chiton
tunics and loose
himation
swathes common to the Greek East, not the bulky Roman togas of the west of the Empire.

Hadrian seemed to be somewhat taller in this environment than he had seemed at the
show-games the previous fortnight. While the youth of
Polis
were competing naked in the various events in their separate age and weighting grades, Antinous and I – along with all the other lads, youths, and men of the town – craned our necks to have a closer view of the Great Caesar, Hadrian, in our midst.

As you know, no women attend naked sports events, so this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for the men of
Polis
to see their emperor at close hand. At that event Caesar’s tall height and military bearing, coupled with his close-cropped beard topped by hair combed forward across his head, may have been camouflaged by his fulsome purple toga with its glittering embroideries of gilt eagles. But now, dressed in a simple Greek tunic, his tall height was evident beside the lesser stature of Arrian and other Greek notables.

To our eyes, Hadrian was lean for his age. He was in his forties somewhere, Ant and I determined, but in very good trim. His features still displayed something of the renowned good looks of his reputation as a playboy prior to becoming
Princeps.
His frame retained the muscle tone of the professional soldier he had been since his youth, as well as displaying several cicatrices earned at the business end of an enemy sharp. Yet his countenance had a quality whose precise years were difficult to estimate.

His attachment to his troops of the twenty-eight Legions around the Empire was said to be expressed by a lifestyle matching the austerities and hardships of a Legionnaire’s training and diet. Whatever his legions could do, he could do. His daily regimen included the necessary exercises to ensure bodily condition, with marches in full pack, simple diet, and regularly assisting in digging stockade gutters or even latrine ditches. These shared disciplines endear him to the Legions. It earns their total allegiance.

Hadrian was nonchalantly chewing on a piece of fruit as we dismounted our ponies. He seemed genuinely pleased at our arrival. He and Arrian beamed at our group with broad grins whose informality jolted we youngsters while absolutely astonishing our stewards and slaves into rigidity. How are you supposed to respond when your emperor smiles at you?

“
Welcome, fellow Bithynians,” Arrian called to us. “You are well on time, friends.”

Our entire group automatically fell to our right knees and bowed our heads. “Hail Caesar!” we proclaimed in muddy unison with a salute.

“
Greetings, Antinous and Lysias of Claudiopolis,” Hadrian called back. “It’s a pleasure you should be with us today to enjoy our Hunt. My friend Arrian speaks well of your families and your service to the Empire. I myself commend you on your victories in the sports events of your town,” he called as he took a bite from his apple. “Your accomplishments were well noted, I assure you. We hope you settle-in happily here at the quarters provided for your comfort.

Prepare yourselves too to join us at the sixth hour at the start line of the Hunt when the sun reaches full height. Our Hunt promises to be challenging, so use your most effective accessories. Ask my friend the Master of the Hunt, Tribune Julianus, for any details you need. He is your commander today. And don’t forget, we will enjoy a feast and symposium at sunset to celebrate the victors of today’s chase.”

Caesar clapped his hands once and called loudly, “Geta!”

I saw a tall, lean, pale-skinned man of foreign extraction with a close-cut black beard and slicked long black tresses plaited in a barbarian’s style step forward to respond smartly.

“
Here, Caesar!”

To my eye the fellow was in his late twenties. He had faded tattoo circles across each cheek. He was dressed in an eclectic mix of short Greek tunic, barbarian leggings, Roman open-weave boots, and a looped mantle which was slung across his frame pinioned with an antique
fibula
. Nothing suggested he was of the slave class because of his attire’s evident quality and jeweled rings of visible costliness. Nevertheless he responded to Caesar’s call with the immediate response of a servant.

“
Geta, direct these visitors to their stables and sleeping quarters,” Hadrian commanded. “Ensure they receive every service needed for grooming, feeding, and watering their mounts. Also assign staff to provide them refreshments.”