Antinoos and Hadrian

by R G Berube

  I could not stay still. I went to him. Kneeling beside his pallet, I tried to take him in my arms. He pushed me away without a word.

  “Alexamenos do not be angry with me. I did nothing with Critoneo. I swear it!”

  Once again I tried to hold him. This time he called out in pain as I pulled him near.

  “What is the matter,” I asked.

  “My back,” he moaned. “They lashed me for being unruly.”

  In the darkness I found the flask of oil we used for wrestling at the paelestra and applied some to his shoulders and back, and smoothed it down to his rump. This touching produced both a sense of deep intimacy and an excitement that made me weak.

  “You can put some even where I have not been lashed.” His tone became more sensual.

  I continued this message and indeed proceeded to apply the ointment to his legs and arms, lingering over each stroke to make it last, making love to him with my hands. When he turned onto his back I saw that he was equally excited. Our differences were put aside. In spite of his pain, he made love to me and I found myself enjoying the part I played.

  From that night our relationship changed and Alexamenos became less a protector. He began to inflict little abuses, never being outwardly cruel. Where there had been thoughtful actions of endearment, there now were spaces of coldness and rejection. He would come to me in the night and I would yield, then he would return to his own bed. More often than not, I found myself lying with empty arms and yearning for him to hold me; too proud to ask him to stay. I began to resent these liberties and would sometime feign illness.

  Our studies required much to be learned, and expectations were high. My mind strayed from my purpose. I thought constantly of Alexamenos and what was happening to our relationship. Each time I broached the subject, he vowed that nothing was wrong and charged me with trying to create issues where there were none. He soon had me believing that I was imagining all of it. Try as I might, I could not divine the source of his irritation and all the efforts to expiate myself with him fell on deaf ears.

  Each approach was met with even more resistance, until I knew not what to do. And with his gradual withdrawal came increased abuse from the other boys. Alexamenos came fewer times to my defense.

  One day we were together in the courtyard pruning branches and attending to other menial chores, alone together for the first time in many days. I was sick with his rejections. In the evening after the lamps were extinguished and our time of rendezvous came, our encounters had grown fewer, I took the opportunity to approach him on the matter and with determination, I held to my resolve not to let him deter me from answers to his behavior.

  “Tell me,” I touched his arm and restrained him for the moment. “Why do you reject me?”

  He shook himself free and moved some distance away, avoiding my question.

  “Please Alexamenos, answer me. Why do you move from me? Why have we stopped being friends?”

  Alexamenos seemed nervous.

  “We are still friends. Why do you say we are not still friends?”

  “You know why! Answer me this time. Why do you shun me? I ache for you at night and you turn on your side. You refuse to love me the way we once did.”

  An expression of exasperation came to his face. I knew I was touching something in him that he wanted left alone.

  “Are you totally unaware of what is being said about you,” he snapped at me. “Have you no idea of the warnings we've received concerning you?”

  I was left without words.

  “If I did not know better, Antinoos, I would swear that you were an idiot for your lack of awareness of what goes on around you.”

  “What do you mean?” I genuinely did not understand.

  “Tell me, for instance, that you have not been aware of the Sicilian's overtures?”

  “But, the Sicilian hates me!”

  “Of course he does. He hates you because you've ignored every advance. I've seen them many times.”

  The conversation was getting more absurd and I found that there was little I could say in my defense or to offer argument.

  “You've suggested that there have been warnings,” I changed the subject. “What warnings?”

  “The word has been passed to us by Critoneo and his subordinates that the Emperor has his eye on you and that it would be foolishness for anyone to interfere or add difficulty to those plans. You are marked, Antinoos. For as much as some of the others hate you for this privileged position, they are also in awe of you and envy you. You command power and do not know it, and this makes you a laughing stock.”

  “And you,” I said. “Do you hate me also? Is this why you avoid me?”

  “It was suggested to me some weeks ago that perhaps I was deterring you from your studies and primary interests.”

  “But if that is so, then why are we allowed to still room together?”

  Alexamenos was silent for a moment. He looked me in the eyes and studied my face.

  “Critoneo knows how much I like you. He knows we are friends and work well together. I think he feels that I make you happy, so he chooses not to change that. His concern is that you remain content.”

  For the first time in many weeks Alexamenos and I were speaking as we had before the coldness had set in. I had wished it!

  “Has he spoken to you directly about this?” I wondered if Critoneo had taken Alexamenos aside as he had me.

  “Only that I am not to encourage you in our lovemaking. He said it would be unwise to continue a relationship that went beyond friendship. When I asked what would happen if we did not stop loving, he said it could be arranged for me to be assigned elsewhere and there my fate would not be so sure. Critoneo pointed out that at least here, I had my fellows and was respected. Elsewhere such security and comfort could not be guaranteed. I might face harsh treatment, if sent away. It was a threat!”

  Was I to tell myself not to love Alexamenos and have it suddenly be so? The thought of not having him to converse with, made me dread the possibility. I was vexed with indecision and confusion. I also understood the part Alexamenos had to play, and felt both sorry and responsible for him.

  “So you see,” he said. “I have been trying to make this easier on each of us. And for a while this afternoon I did wonder if Critoneo was having his way with you. I know you are fond of him.”

  “Yes,” I smiled as I took up the pruning shears and returned to my work. It occurred to me that we might be watched. I did not want to cause Alexamenos further punishment.

  “I am fond of him. He has been very good to me. But my fondness does not lead to an attraction. Although I must admit that I would be kind to him in that fashion, should he demand it. But he has not.”

  Alexamenos nodded, but I saw the shadow in his face that matched my desperation.

  “What are we to do?” I asked.

  “Create the illusion that we are barely speaking,” he suggested.

  “But don't you think that it would defeat the purpose for which Critoneo keeps us together?”

  Alexamenos was at a loss for an answer.

  “No,” I said. “We must behave as though our ardor has cooled, but we still remain friends. We can love as before, in the privacy of night time.”

  “And how are we to convince everyone?”

  We both looked at each other for some time, caught in the dilemma.

  “You might show some interest in the Sicilian?” Alexamenos suggested.

  “Never!”

  “Then someone else,” he said. “It is the one thing that would work.”

  Chapter Five

  Seasons, Late Winter 127 A.D.

  Each day brought its own challenge. It seemed to me the more I succeeded, the more I was expected to excel. My Latin improved and I perfected my speech so that there was little trace of the accent peculiar to the region of Euxinus Pontus, from which I came. I found fascination with how the Romans had adapted our Greek gods with their own. This facility of their race assured their success
all over the Empire.

  I had a particular fondness to the God, Dionysos, who was born on the River Sangarius, and was a countryman. Dionysos represented elements not fully known by mortals. Dionysos raised the sap in the trees and brought forth the blossoms in those valleys and hills so dear to me when I was a child. And when the grape ripened and was plucked and made to give its juice, the wine was his gift to a plentiful harvest. My mother had a small statue of him in our house and when she felt herself laden with her moods of melancholy, she would pray to bring vitalization and rebirth. My connection to this feeling for nature and that of my homeland; its green meadows, lazy streams and crisp mountain air, probably was the result of being born in the month of November; the month of Cybele the Earth Mother. It is not without reason that the separation from my homeland and the ensuing time of apprenticeship in Rome caused great pain. I missed the soil. It was difficult for me to judge the passing of the time as I had done at home. Gradually my days became weeks and weeks, months. It seemed that my life was marked more by events. Before, the seasons had marked time.

  Those events were often dies nefasti, the public holidays in which business in Rome ceased, and the population went to the games or to the theater. We were not privileged to attend most of these events, but were taken all together, to some. It was on these occasions that I would see Hadrian. Once, we were seated close to the Imperial Box. I saw him look my way and he smiled. My heart filled with excitement and I resumed hope that he had not forgotten me in spite of Critoneo's constant reminders that the Emperor was keeping daily interest in me.

  On one occasion of games given by Hadrian to celebrate his birthday, I became aware that he was observing me closely. Rome had come alive for the time allotted for this celebration, and we were told days ahead that special permission had come from the palace, for us be involved. For six days Rome dispensed with its usual daily activities. For most Romans it was less a way of showing their respect for the occasion than a reason for enjoying another spectacle at the Emperor's expense.

  There were gladiatorial combats, and into the arena went thousands of wild beasts which were slaughtered. Some will read these lines and think them excessive, but Hadrian was restrained in comparison with the games of Titus and Trajan; who celebrated the conquest of Dacia with 123 days of spectacles in the year 107. Ten thousand gladiators and eleven thousand animals were killed.

  I recall the many times I was witness to such events, and of the hunts in which I participated with Hadrian where the killing was necessary sometimes, because the beast was a known killer and had preyed on local villages. Still, resistance and aversion moved me to detest the spilling of blood. Even when the life saved was my own; I stood above the carcass of that impressive animal and regretted its death. This reluctance to take life was not missed by the Emperor and he made it a project, as our relationship grew, to relieve me of the anxieties by repeated exposures. I only grew more proficient at hiding my revulsion.

  I was constantly observed for my reactions, my thoughts, my qualities and faults. I felt surrounded by eyes, and not all were Critoneo's or of those who were reporting to the Emperor. My fellows watched for whatever special treatment I might be accorded, and held me in contempt. My feelings for Alexamenos were general knowledge and, as already mentioned, the attention became a sensitive issue with me.

  I agreed with Alexamenos that perhaps our ardor would be better restrained to the darkness of our cubicle. If our plan was for one of us to feign taking on a new lover, I pleaded for him to do it.

  “Who would you suggest?” Alexamenos asked.

  “There are many of the younger boys who are infatuated with you. I believe any one of them would welcome your advances.”

  Something in my voice disclosed the edge of fear I felt for the plan. And my words took on the sound of accusation.

  “And what will you do if I find a new friend?

  Will you hate me?”

  Alexamenos sounded concerned. I could see how the proposed plan could lead to other emotions that would disintegrate what we felt for each other.

  “Whatever happens, the Gods control our destiny and little can be done to alter it. My feelings for you are deep, and the coming years will not diminish the gratitude for how you befriended me when all the others did not. Alexamenos, you must be the one to move away from me. I cannot!”

  “Shall I ask Critoneo to put me elsewhere?”

  The thought of not having him with me in the nighttime was almost beyond imagining.

  “Why would you want to do that?” I wondered if he was suggesting a total severance of our relationship. Something in his voice sparked fear. Somehow I felt that our time together was already in decline. How little I understood the emotion which I believed I felt for him!

  If we could begin our lives with the knowledge and good sense with which we end it, it would make us all-knowing as the gods. Perhaps it is why they deprive us of the gift. How I would have valued more those allotted years which the gods gave for me to spend with Hadrian. I would have been better able to discriminate love from passion, and friendship from deceit. I would have understood the quality of love he had for me, and I for him.

  The centuries have shown me much of the human emotion that often passes itself as love; that emotion which gives pain to the heart and demands of those we love, things that are often beyond them. This elusive emotion becomes the cause of jealousy and suspicion, mistrust and excess and breeds the worms of decay. It is not love at all! Love is not base. What passes for love often is desire dressed in love's costume. How many of history's great lovers were truly that? How can the greatest and most precious of human emotions cause pain, anger, hate, and then compulsion to degrade or hurt the ones we say we love! Is there an aching heart to be found in one who loves? I think not!

  Alexamenos was security to me. He was someone to whom I could turn for attention and kindness. He was someone who touched me when I needed touching. And in his way he needed me as much as I needed him. This need is a key element to love's untarnished essence. Love is an emotion that does not need, but simply is and allows all else to be in harmony with it. I needed Alexamenos. I feared that in his departure he would find someone else. For days I prayed that the decision of placing more distance between us would not be necessary. I resented being forced into these pretensions by those who seemed to meddle without relent.

  Alexamenos initiated the move by becoming friendly with a particular group of boys who had formed a club among themselves. I saw him less during the day. He purposely sat away from me whenever we were at dinner or symposium. Word spread that we were estranged. He took on as a close companion, a boy from Syria who was slight of build, very pretty, lonely and defenseless and newly arrived. Although I felt sorry for the boy, I began to feel even more agitated with myself recognizing that these frailties were the very same ones that had attracted Alexamenos to me. I did not like what I saw! The relationship with the Syrian irritated me because it so resembled what we once had been with each other in the early months. Night was the only time we had for intimacy. The nights became the focus of my days, waiting for him to come to me. And my moods were more the effects of emotion than of the climate which produced a constant coldness that permeated every waking hour. Yet, I grew to notice it less. The winter had been difficult, and throughout the many chilly nighttime hours we provided each other warmth that made do for its lack during the day. I cherished the time Alexamenos spent beside me, and resented it as well. My insides were being twisted with confusion and simultaneously conflicting surges. The winter passed slowly and the cold had a soul mate deep in my being.

  Spring showed itself in the hills surrounding the city and in the gardens of the paedagogium. The budding trees on Mount Caelius, the flowers blooming in the gardens made my soul yearn for another time and another place. My hope for the coming year was heightened by an expectation whispered to us by one of the proctors, and the paedagogium became alive with speculation. The source of all this excitement wa
s a report that the Emperor planned to make a journey to the northern regions and had ordered a group of pages to accompany the party that we might gain experience.

  After an evening meal Critoneo rose and the hall fell silent. He announced that a list of names of those who were to be sent on the journey would be posted the following morning. All those whose names appeared were to gather belongings and be ready to depart in two days.

  Many months had passed since such an opportunity had come, the last being when the Emperor had traveled East, the same journey which had brought me to him. Not many, who had been part of that expedition, remained. Most had gone on to higher service or had been sent to the outlying areas to fill various posts. Those boys who remained behind after the announcement were filled with curiosity and questions. I stayed behind, seated in the shadows, listening. Soon they began to gamble, betting whatever little trinkets they possessed or funds they owned, wagered on the hope that their names would appear on the list. Of interest to me were those who spoke the loudest and were the most confident, these being the ones I thought least likely to be chosen!

  Alexamenos came and sat beside me.

  “And what do you think of your chances?”

  “I should think them dear,” I responded with a smile, “for we have been here less than three years. Surely this is something that in only for those ready to go into service. I think not, Alexamenos. You and I will be expected to remain behind and be given the added duties of those who will attend. After all,” I said jokingly, “Someone must tend the hounds!”

  It was with a shock and disappointment that I read the list of names on the following morning. Mine was among the hundred who had been privileged, but Alexamenos was not. I immediately thought of appealing to Critoneo to remove me from the list or add my friend. But I realized that to even suggest such a thing would be a serious breach and certainly would reflect on my obedience. The list had been drawn and nothing would change it. There had been purpose. My heart was heavy with the knowledge that it would be many weeks before I saw Alexamenos again.