The Hadrian Enigma - A Forbidden History (62 page)

The ancient of days produced a small receptacle filled with several unprepossessing lumps of a substance with the appearance of crumbled rock or wood ashes. He took silver tweezers and placed a few small lumps onto a metal ornamental tray. One of Kenamun’s servants held a lighted taper beneath the tray to heat its thin base.

After some moments wisps of white fume rose from the tray. Si-Amun did precisely as Suetonius had done only two days earlier at
The House of the Blue Lotuses
. He fanned the fumes into his face and nostrils with both hands while muttering a low chant in his foreign tongue. Minutes of chanting in the stillness passed.

Si-Amun was suddenly galvanized. He sat bolt upright on his stool. He fumbled to unpin a 
fibula
to permit a beaded veil to fall from his headdress across his face, masking his features from sight. His voice assumed an energized clarity of tone. His antique age seemed to dissolve as he fell into a thoughtful silence awaiting Kenamun’s questioning words.

“
You may begin,” the priest mortician nodded. “Ask, but be respectful.”

Clarus was moved to ask the opening question.

“
Oracle of Siwa, who speaks to us here tonight?” he asked magisterially as Strabon’s stylus prepared to flutter over fresh wax.

There was a lengthy pause before Si-Amun spoke. He repeatedly shook his ostrich feather headdress, which gave a rustling sound akin to a feathery
systrum,
while he rattled a real
systrum
in one hand. The voice was no longer the sharp clear vocal character of the ordinary priest, it had a rumbling depth of throatiness as though calling from the bottom of a deep well. His
Amazigh
words were haltingly translated by the mortician.

“
I am Amun, the hidden god. Amun is Ra. Amun is Ptah. Zeus Ammon is Amun. Jupiter is Amun. Serapis is Amun. I am Osiris who Seth destroyed but Isis restored
. I 
am who I am.
”

Suetonius was startled by this heady declaration, yet adventurously posed the next question.

“
Great Ammon of the Oracle of Siwa please tell, why did Antinous of Bithynia die?”

Again a long pause as the ostrich feathers shimmered, flurried, and trilled while the
systrum
rattled. Kenamun slowly translated the stumbled response.

“
The son of Apollo ascended to the sun. The sun burnt the youth. The wild forces of Eros overcame the civil power of Aphrodite. A hidden secret unleashed the chaos of Eros so stalking wolves could devour their prey
.”

The group looked among each other, mystified.

“
If that is ‘why’, Si-Amun, then
how
did Antinous die?” Suetonius asked, faintly unsettled by talk of wolves devouring their prey.

Another long pause prevailed as feathers and
systrum
rustled, shimmered, and rattled.

“
The son of Apollo bled into Darkness. The stalking wolves sipped his blood.
”

“
Are you saying Antinous was murdered, Great Oracle?”

Again a pause of rustles and rattles.

“
The son of Apollo made an offering at the altar of his brother Asclepius. He offered his only true spoils to the altar, his life. Stalking wolves devoured the spoils with relish.
”

“
Asclepius?” Clarus exclaimed. “Why Asclepius, Apollo’s son and the god of healing? Are you certain?”

Suetonius dismissed the query; he felt he was close to some answers.

“
Who is the murderer, Great Oracle? Who killed Antinous?” Suetonius called aloud with quavering emotion. All held their breath after a long period of rustling passed and then ceased.

“
A wolf’s sword exacts its revenge. A she wolf’s delusion drinks its fill. But the path to the sacrificial altar was smoothed by a king’s secret.”

“
Wolves. She wolves. A king’s secret. Where are we in all this?” Clarus groaned plaintively.

Si-Amun’s voice responded immediately in crisp Common Greek.

“
On a journey of justice for the king. Identify the She Wolf. Apprehend the wolves. Send them to the Underworld of the alien god.
”

“
Who is their god?” Clarus asked, realizing to identify the deity might identify the malefactors.

Si-Amun expelled a loud cry of pained anguish. His body trembled violently. His voice quavered with emotion.

“
The Baal of the East who came to the West. The Drinker of Blood. The Wolf Deity.
”

The group looked to each other, utterly perplexed.

“
How will we punish the murderer or murderers, Great Oracle of Amun?”

Pause.

“
Fire purifies,
” came the simple response.
“Fire purifies!”

“
What of Antinous? Will Antinous return from Hades?” Suetonius dared to propose, atypically, illogically, unexpectedly. Is resurrection on the agenda? The pause was brief, the voice clear.

“
The son of Apollo rises with the new dawn, when the king’s heart bursts with anguish. Self-knowledge renews his soul.”

The rustle of feathers and systrum ceased. Everyone in the chamber was silent.

Si-Amun slowly toppled from his stool to the
pavilion floor. His feathered headdress fell from his face revealing his shaven scalp and features streamed with beads of sweat. His mouth was drooling spittle while his hands quivered finely by his side.

“
Is your Oracle alright?” Suetonius asked Kenamun as Surisca tried to help raise the ageing man from the beaten earth floor. He was reviving from his drug trance.

“
He puts his all into it,” was Kenamun’s simple answer. Suetonius delivered a small gold coin from his purse into Si-Amun’s sweaty palm.

“
Well, what do we make of that?” Clarus asked when the four had departed the Egyptian pavilions. “It was quite a show. Did you get a full record, Strabon?”

The scribe nodded.

“
What do you think he was telling us?” Suetonius queried. “Was it all nonsense, or was there some truth to it? Surisca, what do you think, you know the ways of these people?”

“
I know very little of the
Amazigh
tongue of the desert barbarians,” she responded, “but I’ve picked up some words and phrases from clients of the Libyan Desert. Their unusual language and bloodline are found in many places across the African provinces.”

“
And, so?” Suetonius queried.

“
I don’t think the priest Kenamun was translating the Oracle’s words at all. I think he was imposing his own views upon the Oracle’s pronouncements.”

“
You mean he deceived us?”

“
No, not at all,” Surisca explained. “I think he was giving us his inside knowledge of what may have occurred, but disguised as the Oracle’s insights. In fact, perhaps he was giving us a view he would be afraid to communicate directly. Perhaps he knows more than he tells? Or else he aims to deflect our investigation away from Pachrates towards other suspects.”

“
How so?”

“
The oracle talked of stalking wolves and a she wolf. What or who are these wolves? Where are they?” she queried. “Is this a deception, or is it code for some group among your travelers?”

“
Kenamun told us earlier he wondered at the absence of blood in Antinous’s veins. He said the fellow did not die by drowning, he died of blood loss despite being found beneath the Nile. Yet the Oracle’s words spoke of a she wolf drinking his blood? Of a wolf’s sword exacting revenge? Where is this bizarre wolf pack? There are no wolves in Egypt,” Clarus was evidently as perturbed as anyone.

“
He tells us to identify the She Wolf. A female. How do we identify this beast?” Suetonius asked rhetorically. “We have to ask those who mixed with the youth. We have to ask Lysias, Julianus, Geta, Arrian. Is Thais the She Wolf? Is that possible? But Thais is no wolf creature, I am sure!”

Surisca submitted some thoughts.

“
The women in the dead youth’s circle appear to be few in number. There is Thais, yes, but there is also the woman Balbilla .. there is the empress, the
Augusta ...
there is the priestess Anna Perenna. Is there anyone else? Is one of these the She Wolf? If so, which?”

A few moments elapsed. They then responded in unison with a single name.

“
Anna Perenna.”

CHAPTER 29

“
W
elcome back, even if so late at night,” Secretary Vestinus offered politely through sleepish eyes. “You realize it is now two hours before dawn?!”

“
It’s two hours before dawn and
we’ve
not been to bed!” Clarus snapped.

“
The entire Household will soon start to come to life to meet Caesar’s summons,” Vestinus said. “He’s called everyone of quality to assemble an hour before dawn. No excuses.”

A muted
cornu
sounded as troops calling the hour echoed from watch to watch.

“
We need to see Geta the Dacian. We have something important to discuss with the fellow. Can you have someone summon him here?” Clarus enquired.

“
Better. I’ll do it myself. While you wait you should freshen up and take some nourishment. You will need to, good people, because Caesar’s project today could be a lengthy one,” the dour
Ab Epistulis
advised. He clapped hands for service.

Slaves escorted the three males to a washhouse to attend to their toilet, while Surisca was led by a serving girl to a separate women’s chamber to spruce.

Suetonius and Surisca were the first to return to Vestinus’s courtyard. They now exuded fragrant oils announcing refreshed cleanliness. They were greeted by a table spread with edibles beneath the dancing light of flaming torches burning into the night sky.

“
Surisca, my dear, it seems how for the third occasion on two days and nights I am not to partake of your charms and arts, whether I like it or not?” the Special Inspector lamented. “Another night has passed and I am no closer to the promise of your sensuality than anytime earlier.”

Surisca affected a demure manner with her face downcast in shame.

“
Master, it has not been my purpose to deny you your purchased pleasures. Have I been remiss in this? Should I return your fee to you? You have been so patient.”

“
No, no, my dear. It’s just the way things have turned out. And I assure you, you have more than earned your fee with your perceptions about aspects of our enquiry. Perhaps with interest!”

“
You flatter me, master,” she offered modestly.

“
When this imbroglio has passed, Surisca my dear, and hopefully before Caesar demands my head be removed, I hope to reward you in a more worthwhile way for your endeavors with us here. I wish to assist you to pursue your chosen future for your contribution to our searches. Tell me, my dear, what is your greatest desire for the future?”

The Syrian
hetaera
was smitten silent for a few moments. No one had ever before asked her such a generous-minded question. No one was interested. Except perhaps one single person, she recalled. She stumbled her honest reply.

“
I think, master, I wish to leave my trade before I am too old to attract custom or am afflicted with a deadly pox. I hope to devote myself instead to creating beauty aids and perfumes for market. I already know the crafts of their manufacture; but I need the capital to buy the necessary tools and time to create sufficient stock and to rent a suitable trading shop. I have monies stored away securely, but it is only half the sum I am likely to require. You see, I have thought through this matter well during many long nights satisfying a client’s pleasures.”

Clarus and Strabon returned to the courtyard.

“
What about marriage? A husband? A family?” Suetonius continued. “Does this appeal to you?”

Surisca grew clouded in her response.

“
Very few men seek the companionship of women of my profession, my lord. My trade breaks trust. Though there are those who wish to live off the earnings of such as I. But here in the East a woman loses her wealth when she falls under a husband’s
aegis.
I have worked far too hard and long for my wealth to be so easily acquired by another. I’ve heard it said women at Rome possess greater freedom of property ownership in retaining their wealth in marriage? Is this so, master?”

Clarus intruded on this pragmatic conversation.

“
Where are we with our investigation?” he demanded. “What have we learned? In an hour we join Caesar’s assembly, and we’re likely to have few opportunities to interview others after his ceremony. So we’re back to:
Why did Antinous die
? And:
was it an accident, suicide, or murder
?”

“
Well, what do you think yourself, Septicius?” Suetonius asked.

“
I don’t really know. It’s very complicated and I sense we’re missing something essential. Two days and nights is insufficient time.”

“
But,
cui bono
? Who benefits from the death?” Suetonius probed.

“
Other than a mysterious pack of ‘stalking wolves’, it seems no one except the Bithynian himself benefits. Perhaps he’s died in an act of sacrifice,” Clarus proposed.