The Hadrian Enigma - A Forbidden History (5 page)

Suetonius noticed how the bustling retinue surrounding Hadrian unwittingly gave the young man a clear circle of space in unofficial acknowledgement of his status as Caesar’s special intimate.

The lad’s height was balanced with a slim, sinewy silhouette. Obviously well exercised after a lifetime invested at the
palaestra
in sports and military exercises, his rangy, slinky-hipped figure was typical of those statues of Olympic athletes in bronze or marble wrested impulsively by past emperors from cities across the Aegean or at Olympia itself. These trophies are now displayed in Rome’s public gardens for all its citizens to savor.

Mostly nude, such works of the stonemason’s craft exhibit the male form in its ideal magnificence. It was a form which Antinous’s own chiseled appearance proved was no heroic myth or sculptor’s erotic fantasy. It was a physique not often evident among Rome’s mélange of gnarled or decrepit denizens except perhaps among the junior military, some sporty patricians, or the arena’s fleet-footed gladiators.

Antinous had a lithe and proportioned frame which proclaimed mature muscular power coupled with the animal dynamism of youth. This was a bearing assured to attract the attention of admirers of both genders.

His sharply-cut muscles, defined chest line, orbed abdominals, and triangular upper frame above lean loins and an athletic butt expressed the
alpha male
physique readily recognized by any sexually aware mortal. It proclaimed him as a vital font of virile fertility.

Here was a living, breathing Adonis, or a flesh-and-blood mirror of divine Apollo himself.

Yet other than physical characteristics which shine for but a handful of years, plus sexually-charged contours of a similar ephemerality, one wondered what on earth could appeal to the sophisticated tastes of our imperial aesthete, Hadrian, beyond simple lechery? The young fellow was very appealing in a manly way, but so are many young people of health and shapeliness who may be accessible to an emperor’s earthier gratification.

Other than the highly perishable attractions of the flesh, Suetonius wondered what Hadrian saw in the lad that justified such an intimate yet very public attachment? Hadrian had begun to exhibit Antinous at every opportunity in a manner which proclaimed the young man’s role as a personal consort almost equal to the status of Vibia Sabina herself.

The biographer had difficulty believing the two men had a great deal in common intellectually or in genuine companionship.

Other than the lively excitements of the hunt, or the camaraderie of bivouacs with the Legions, or youth’s wildness in immoderate drinking sessions at men’s symposia, plus the bodily enticements of the boudoir while sexual novelty survived, what else could such a fellow offer? He wondered if Antinous possessed depths of character which evaded the biographer’s immediate perception.

So there must indeed be something more to the relationship to sustain it than met the eye?

Yet Suetonius had to admit how, beyond his physical attributes, Antinous often conveyed something somewhat more interesting. At first he interpreted the boy’s sculpted features to proclaim the petulant self-indulgent and feminized sensuality of a sybarite, or even a dissolute
cinaedus
in the renowned Bithynian style.

These characteristics were suggested by youthful full lips and heavy-lidded eyes cast downwards in pensive introspection. Suetonius interpreted this sulky demeanor to suggest bedroom interests which indicated the self-absorption and narcissism of the
cinaedus’s
promiscuous lifestyle. Or so others suggested.

But he came to realize this was mere prejudice about the emperor’s supposed plaything or
catamite
. This revelation happened when he first heard the fellow speak.

Antinous’s seeming shyness of manner was belied by the calm, thorough, persuasive
timbre
of his voice. Its deep modulation expressed well-studied Latin with an Attic accent, true, but did so with cool assurance and a baritone which communicated intelligence, honesty, warmth, and audible manliness. The youth’s voice projected a definite
vir,
not an indulgently frivolous
cinaedus,
let alone a shrill eunuch or pale hermaphrodite. At least to the ear and eye, if not in the privacy of the bedchamber, the fellow was striking in his masculinity.

Suetonius and the Praetorian escort were off-loaded downstream at a jetty adjacent to one of the guard-houses of the Imperial encampment stretching along the east bank. The city of tents sparkled with multiple braziers, torches, or lamps flickering among the date palms in the descending darkness.

The Praetorians led the biographer through a labyrinth of lanes of tents and marquees spreading along the river bank for a hundred paces. The camp conformed to proper Legion practice, with regular fire precautions and defensive barriers. Guards maintained watch at intersections or surveyed the site from low towers.

Suetonius was led to the forecourt of the Imperial complex itself, announced by its prominent military standards, Imperial insignia, and the enormous multi-poled proportions of Caesar’s personal marquees.

A bronze lifesize statue of Hadrian stood on a pedestal to one side with an arm upheld in salute while nursing his staff of office in the crook of the other. Hadrian’s familiar stance as a heroic commander whose bare-headed thick-cropped curls, close-shaved beard, and embossed cuirass decorated with victor’s medallions, gave authority to his mute presence.

His cuirass displayed an image of the goddess Athena of Athens protecting the infants Romulus and Remus of Rome, with a portrait of Antinous’s profile embossed on one of his hip lappets. This struck Suetonius as an intriguing statement of the emperor’s priorities. It spoke of Greek culture nourishing Roman values while his Greek paramour observed from the close proximity of his hip.

The detachment reached the inner circle of protection for the emperor. He was now to be defended by his Horse Guards. This elite corps of cavalry from across the Roman world serves directly at the emperor’s side. The officers are identified by their scarlet cloaks and a high scarlet crest on their helmets, as well as their ethnic variety. Their mixed races display the Empire’s true diversity.

Three Horse Guards and two Scythian archers stood shiftily about while a senior officer was seated at a camp table sorting papyrus sheets. As he did so Suetonius became aware of the sound of muffled moans being emitted from within the tent complex. They were the cries of pain usually associated with some unfortunate person having information extracted by due legal process, meaning torture.

Hadrian is not known to wield torture to any degree, though his Prefect at Rome, Marcius Turbo, is readily disposed to its efficacy.

The Horse Guard officer arose to smartly salute. Suetonius and he recognized each other, though the biographer could not recall the German’s name. The accompanying Praetorian stood to attention before the more-senior officer and informed him of the summons and delivery as instructed. The German turned and smiled warmly to the biographer.

“
Gaius Suetonius Tranquillus, I Scorilo, a Decurion of the Horse Guard, salute you.”

At last someone was speaking to the biographer as a human being.

“
I am instructed to escort you to the emperor’s quarters. Senator Septicius Clarus and others of the Imperial Household await you.”

Aha, Suetonius thought, a friendly name at last. Clarus, his
patron
, to whom he owed his entire good fortune and utter allegiance after Caesar himself, will know what this is all about.

The decurion led Suetonius into the marquee complex. It dawned on him the muffled cries coming from somewhere deep in the labyrinth were not those of a torture victim but of someone sorrowfully sobbing. In fact it was a male person weeping in deep anguish.

As they progressed through chamber after chamber, sitting rooms, map rooms, shrine alcoves, armory stores, dining alcoves, small reception halls, and small courtyards, the sobbing grew louder. Suetonius realized the cries were being emitted by a voice he recognized.

The pained voice was that of Hadrian.

Scorilo guided Suetonius into a large reception chamber where several notables were gathered and where the moans were even more pronounced. They were heard from behind nearby drapes.

No one conversed. They stood in clusters staring distractedly at the shiny floor tiles beneath them. The cries had thoroughly intimidated them.

Suetonius spied Septicius Clarus seated at a table littered with uneaten food and empty wine goblets. The grouped individuals included some known to him and others unknown.

To one side hovered the Easterners dressed in
chiton
tunic and slung mantle whose primary language was Greek. These included the Governor of Pannonia, Flavius Arrianus of Bithynia, a personal friend of the emperor. Arrian is a wealthy Greek from Nicomedia. Accompanying him was Phlegon of Tralles, a freed slave historian whose extravagant literary fantasies were popular with Hadrian. Polemo of Smyrna, a sophist and master of heroic speeches, stood beside Aristobulus of Antioch, the court astrologer who had been in Suetonius’s party that morning. It was probably Aristobulus who had revealed his whereabouts to the Praetorian messengers.

At another side stood the Latins. Flavius Titianus, Hadrian’s appointed Governor of the province of Egypt; Julius Vestinus, a Gaul who was the current Secretary to the emperor; the eunuch Favorinus of Arles, a teacher of rhetoric; and Alcibiades of Nysa, Hadrian’s chamberlain who was Greek but who too had been accorded Roman citizenship.

At the table with wine cups before them sat Suetonius’s
patron
, Septicius Clarus accompanied by the Praetorian Tribune, Lucius Macedo, commander of the security forces for the Egypt tour. The Praetorian Prefect, Quintus Marcius Turbo, remained at Rome to maintain order at the seat of Empire.

Suetonius reflected on how this modest tented chamber in the desert wilds by the River Nile four hundred miles south of the city of Alexandria contained the cream of Hadrian’s inner circle. Except three, that is. These three were his wife, Vibia Sabina
the
Augusta
; his factotum Geta the Dacian; and the much-cherished freeborn Bithynian Antinous.

In another corner stood a man whose presence made the hair of Suetonius’s neck rise on end.

‘
Pachrates’ was a corrupted name in Greek for an Egyptian priest whose name in the local dialect was unpronounceable. Pachrates or Panchrates was a close translation into Greek. He was one of the shaven-bodied,
kohl
-eyed, leopard-skin swathed, linen-skirted priests of Egypt. The priest is reputed to work miracles, call upon demonic powers, inflict spells, and influence destiny, all for a fee. Preferably a large fee.

Pachrates is of an indiscernible age, seeming eternally old, even very ancient, as befits his profession. His features had his race’s distinctive characteristics of a flattish nose, swarthy skin, thick lips, and dark eyes. His eyes penetrate his surroundings with incisive clarity, and project an icy chill. This had always disturbed Suetonius on the few occasions he saw him attending Hadrian’s entourage. Yet he had heard how Hadrian and Antinous had found the priest’s magical arts to be impressive, if not remarkable.

By Pachrates’ side was a younger priest in similar vestments indicating high status. Both were bedecked in beaded chains, amulets, talismans, and bracelets depicting the Eye of Horus, the crucifix ankh, and other exotic symbols. Each wielded an impressive staff of ebony, gold, and ivory. They kept watchfully to themselves while the sobs echoed from within the nearby chamber.

Clarus and Macedo rose to greet Suetonius. He did not kiss Clarus’ toga hem as he might at a morning
patron
’s assembly; it might have seemed overly ostentatious in this company. Clarus took his arm in a friendly greeting anyhow. He whispered low to his ear.

“
Welcome. Our men found you, yes? As you can hear, we have a crisis on our hands.”

Suetonius nodded knowingly, eyes wide in apprehension.

“
You’ve heard the news? Antinous is dead.”

Macedo and Clarus looked deeply at the biographer as though he might know something about it.

“
Great Caesar is supremely distressed.”

This could readily be heard from the nearby chamber.

“
I’ve only just learned of it,” Suetonius lied. “May I ask in what manner?” he whispered. “Was it honorable?”

This question poses the primary issue in a Roman death. Is a death noble, is it honorable, is it worthy of the deceased’s character? Is a death praiseworthy? Anything less is either an act of spite by the gods or a careless mismanagement of one’s fate.

Clarus leaned forward to murmur in his ear.

“
The boy was found at the Nile’s edge this morning tangled in the reeds. He has apparently drowned. Some fishermen came across him, they say, underneath their boat as they were setting out from their moorings. The tide stream had swept him to the river bank. They raised the alarm. We have them under guard until we sort out what has happened. They will meet torture to test their truthfulness.”

It was Suetonius’s turn to lean forward to ask the most obvious question. “So how did Antinous come to be in the river in the first place?”

Both Clarus and Macedo glanced towards each other knowingly.