by R G Berube
After Alexamenos had seen the list, he had seemed less disturbed than I, and this irritated me. Although he showed sorrow of the imminent departure, it did not match my own. I became morose, feeling that I had been deserted and used. I put distance between us all day, moving away each time he approached. All my duties were performed in a most mechanical fashion, my thoughts preoccupied with a storm of fancies of what I thought would happen on the journey. And energies were expended with the excitement of having to make ready for departure. I had to organize my things so that they could be added with the steadily growing pile of satchels, chests, and other belongings that were being collected in the courtyard as the day wore on.
Only in the evening after the meal, did we find ourselves together in intimacy. Alexamenos was reluctant to broach our parting. I knew he understood my anger. Knowing this, I imposed it in excess, considering it a fit punishment for his lack of caring.
“Why are you so sullen,” he asked. “Have I become the Sicilian, that you treat me so?”
“Why do you care?” My eyes met his with reproach. “It seems to make little difference to you that I will be gone!”
“And am I to go begging Critoneo to change the list? Do you assume that I am happy about your departure? You are acting like a child!”
“And what are you, then?” I turned on him with vengeance. “I have seen little from you to make me think this separation saddens you. Does our friendship mean so little?”
Alexamenos stepped so close to me that our noses almost touched and I could feel his hot breath on my face.
“You don't know what I feel! And what's more, this is no different than all those other times in my life when I have been left to myself. Go! I have survived before, and I will do it again.”
Night had fallen, but because of the circumstances of the day and our early departure on the following morning, Critoneo allowed the lamps to remain lit an extra hour so that last-minute details could be attended to, and so that friends could spend time together. Now, I began to recognize the pain in his eyes and I understood that I had misjudged him. Alexamenos and I sat at the open window overlooking the houses on the hillside below. A cool wind moved the stale air of our cubicle. In the distance I could see the lights of the Palace on the Palatine and I imagined the Emperor busy with the details of the coming journey. The thought of being in his close proximity for several weeks made me sense emotions that confused me and of which I had no name.
“Antinoos,” Alexamenos began softly, touching my hand. “This voyage will last ‘til spring. We have different paths to walk, I think. The problem we had seems to have been solved by the Emperor. It is not by chance that we were not to be together.”
“But you seem almost happy of it,” I said.
“I am not happy!”
Alexamenos quickly turned his face to the night sky. Somewhere in the neighborhood a hound howled and the loneliness of the cry intensified my mood.
Alexamenos continued. “I am sad that these many months of happiness with you have come to end. But all started with the destiny of ending. The purpose
of our meeting was for me to be of service, I am sure of it.”
“What are you saying?” I was at loss for his meaning.
“It seems we met by chance. But our friendship was by intent. You are marked, Antinoos. I have said it before. Today proves my point. Your course is chartered by a higher source than yourself, and I know that it is not my destiny to be a part of it.”
This sense of destiny of which he spoke had begun to make itself felt. Pieces of the puzzle were slowly coming together in a pattern that was revealing itself. I was not aware of my lack of sophistication as others seemed to be. Alexamenos, despite his rough edges and provincial ways, was much more world-wise than I, still at the suckling stage by comparison.
“But are we not to be friends any longer?”
Tears began to well in my eyes and I did my best to hide them. It would have been unseemly to weep. Alexamenos was the first deep bonding I had experienced and the environment in which it had occurred, gave it gravity.
He leaned closer, letting his bare side touch mine. He felt me shudder and held me close.
“Antinoos, time and distance may separate us, but our minds have captured images and nothing but our wills can make them naught.”
At that moment, I felt a most profound emotion. In this boy, even for a brief moment, I had found a friend, a confidant, a defender of my weaknesses, and a lover. In the years to come I would measure the depth of love not by the time but by intensity, and come to know that the love of an hour can be as deep and meaningful as that of a century; its measure and depth judged only by the Gods. How much more valuable would be the knowledge of maturity and age, to youth!
But that night, all I understood was that something was being taken away from me, not given! And having possessed a part of Alexamenos, I wanted to assure myself of even more. Our bodies touched again and the sweet rapture began to blend with the faint smell of jasmine. From our place at the window we watched the night sky and spoke of those similar times aboard the ship that had brought us to Rome. Much had happened since then. We were no longer boys, and not yet men. Alexamenos pinched the lamp as he led me to bed.
Chapter Six
Awakening, March 127 A.D.
What does a child know of love? It senses security from its parents and knows nothing of the human emotion that gives rise to the powerful force with which a parent protects. In the absence of familiar faces, it feels panic. Then the child grows and comes to learn that this emotion, so powerful and commanding, has a name.
All the primitive emotions disguised as love have facets not entirely admirable. It is from these early years that we identify love with something that it is not. Love is not ownership. It is not the slavery of serving one individual at the expense of one's own needs. In finding what mysteries of life are yet to be discovered, love is not the holding back but rather, the letting go of the beloved who yearns for a different quest. Love is not the asking for, but the giving of, even when it means freedom. It is not the formulation of expectations and the seeking of commitment, but something willingly given without reserve. It is the joy of letting one's needs take second place to those of the beloved's, but only when given without demand. A habituated expectation slowly poisons love, turning it into resentment.
All these things are the lessons to be learned by a child. Fate would have it that some never learn it. My father, although willing to give me advice, was not so available for other things, and so it was from my mother that I came to understand how wonderful and soothing it is to feel a loving hand and the closeness of bodies in warmth. Soft eyes and a kind word can reach an undernourished soul.
In Alexamenos I found the first buds of love. I had sought it from my teachers, from my uncle who lived with us and sometimes had taken me on his knee and made me laugh; from my friends at school who played roughly, and in that play I experienced a joy of friendship only matched in later years on the hunts, where I accompanied Hadrian. None of the early emotions compared with how my heart felt in the months I found myself with Alexamenos.
Men are often attracted to young boys who represent innocence or weakness. Boys who have feminine attributes seem most desired because of their softness and vulnerability. These relationships are in keeping with the sacred male fraternity of early training and education toward service in the military or as a public servant. We Greeks have, for centuries, honored the eromenos / erastes associations. Fathers placed their sons in the hands of young men who sought their favors, and in this capacity the boys were educated in the areas of combat, language and civil law, physical excellence, and many other elements considered necessary for a boy's preparation to the service of country.
I had come into contact with some who had helped me discover and nurture my sexuality and in these relationships with boys my own age and with older men, I came to know myself and accept nature. There were not many. My experience was funda
mental and the contacts were of the intercrural kind, where a boy can maintain his virginity; a way of expressing need and desire and maintaining the semblance of masculinity.
I had loved Alexamenos a long time without penetration. We each acquiesced to this restriction. That method implied something which I could not put into words, but of which we both knew had serious consequence. He had never sought it from me. In my having assumed the dominant position in our lovemaking, I had not made love to him in any other way but for that one night, when he had returned from his punishment. Our last night together took a different turn. Knowing I would be gone for some time and not knowing what fate was in store, I felt the need to take something of him. I opened myself to him again. Although his appetite was as highly charged as my own, there was something in the way he behaved afterward that made me feel in less regard. For days to follow, while plodding relentlessly torturous roads and finding my mind wandering, I thought about the dark side my nature exemplified by my act with Alexamenos, in our last hours together.
In March of the third year of the 225th Olympiad, we departed Rome and passed the site of the rising mausoleum which was to be Hadrian's resting place. The circular structure on the bank of the Tiber was, at this time, a barely discernible ground-plan. But it was evident that something of large proportion and significance was to be built. Piles of stone and slabs of marble lay neatly stacked. Filiniana, a lady-in-waiting to Sabina, kept me informed of the sights as we passed. I had not ventured into these northern sections of the city. Filiniana, small and as finely chiseled as the delicate porcelain statues from the Orient, filled me with her beauty as much as she did with her knowledge of the surroundings.
We followed the river and passed the beautiful tree-covered Pinchio Hill, the place where, yet to come, would rest a marker commissioned by the Emperor to commemorate my existence and passing. Exiting the city through the northern-most gate and crossing the Tiber, we entered the countryside. The campagña was resplendent with lush vegetation even at this time of year. Buds on the trees and the riotous shades of the flowers played against a deep azure sky. Shadows began to increase as we made our way into a land more forested, but for the moment all was bright sun and gentle hills.
Following the Via Flaminia, we arrived at our first major settlement, the town of Fanum Fortunae on the Adriatic coast. It was given its name by Julius Caesar when he occupied it after crossing the Rubicon; given its wall and street grid by Augustus with the intent of making it a more fortified location, and given a new library and a larger gymnasium by Hadrian. This benefaction had been recently ordered and he was inspecting the work in progress; as he would do all long the way where he had allotted monies to be used for civil improvements. Then we followed the Via Aemillia to Arimium, one of the Empire's major towns at the juncture of several trade routes, controlling passages between the Apennines and the Adriatic. It was a beautiful location on a narrow strip of land between the mountains and the sea. Here we met with such enthusiasm by the population who showed their joy at seeing the Empress in the entourage. Sabina returned their respect by convincing Hadrian to remain an extra day and take part in a local religious celebration. At Arimium, Hadrian assigned his architect, Apollodorus, to execute a plan for the expansion of the harbor.
We moved on to Forum Livi, Bononia, and then heading north-east along the Via Annia to inspect the construction being done on the road; on to Patavium where once again we came to the sea. At each city, Hadrian left a legacy of new construction or funds to be used for the public welfare. He was so occupied with overseeing his projects and reviewing the legions stationed along the way, that it was well over a week before I first saw him.
My position in the Imperial Party was that of page to the Empress Sabina. I knew little of the relationship between Hadrian and his wife except of the rumor that she was his wife in name, only. The weeks to follow would make it clear to me that it was not love, but expediency and propriety that kept these two wed.
Sabina was a tall and stately woman of such presence that all who came into her proximity, were struck by her authority and self-assurance. Her will was such that few of us ever dallied when ordered to her service. She took a liking to me, and showed me kindness. Perhaps it was my demeanor? Although awed by her stature, I was not frightened by her and therefore, did not show dismay. She liked me!
Fate holds ironies which, if disclosed, would test the susceptibility of the most innocent. Could she have guessed that I would become what she could not? I too, took a liking to her. Her grandeur held constant against the tribulations of a troubled marriage. She seldom attended the Emperor on the many journeys he felt were necessary, to truly know his realm. Her presence in the company of Hadrian's travels was a rarity.
A few days from Aquileia it was announced that the Emperor planned to attend an evening meal with the Empress, and all was made ready. Hadrian arrived at sunset. He had spent the day reviewing troops stationed in the hills above a pass that was one of our northern outposts. The location was a strategic one in that it barred free movement into the upper regions of Gallia. Along the banks of the delta on these mild evenings before we entered the cold, mountainous areas all at base camp waited with anticipation.
I was assigned to be among the pages in the greeting party and attend to whatever of his needs might arise. All had to be done with perfect form, for eyes would be on me! My palms were wet and my clothing stained with sweat. I could do no more than keep from tripping over my own feet and recalled the afternoon when similar clumsiness had earned me his kind words.
Still dressed for the field, Hadrian had not had time to bathe and as he dismounted, we were instructed to attend him and carry the armor and helmet. I stepped near to receive his cloak and smelled his aroma. He had handed the helmet to his servant to be passed on to me, but when he saw me he leaned forward and placed it directly in my hands. Our eyes met and locked for a moment. It seemed that the world, everything in it, stopped. His eyes pierced into me but the smile on his lips soothed the harsh, tired lines of his face.
“So Bithynian, you have come a long way since we last met. Tell me, has all this been to your liking?”
Having lowered my eyes in respect and not daring to look up, I nodded in affirmation. By the silence around us, I could tell that all those who stood near, were intently aware of the conversation. It was not the norm for the Emperor to address a lowly page. Suddenly I felt a gentle hand touch my chin, and he raised my face so that our eyes met again.
“Well, boy, do you still have trouble formulating your words? I had hoped that these many months of training would have instilled more confidence. This lad before me is not the boy about which Critoneo has been so proudly reporting. Come, speak!”
Hadrian's face, his wide-apart eyes and broad brow, seemed so distant. Each day since my departure from Bithynia I had recreated and relived our first meeting. Now it did not seem the same. Something deep in my soul chilled it. A foreboding reminiscent of those days when as a child, I seemed to tap the nether world and sensed things to come. It was an ability that was a family heritage and one not spoken of. Of this, I will speak later. For now, something in this meeting with Hadrian that I could not fully understand nor formulate into thought filled me with a sense of pressing destiny.
He saw my discomfort, and understood that he was drawing attention to me. He touched my shoulder once in reassurance, then moved away from me but nor before he leaned close and spoke.
“You will come to me tonight, so we can speak. Wait for my man to give you word. Be well until then, Antinoos.”
I found myself surrounded when I returned to the quarters set aside for servants. Questions came tome from all sides about the words he had spoken to me. There was little time to idle before the banquet that for the time being, I was spared the need to answer. Only Filiniana, while she accompanied me on my chores of selecting the linens and table-ware, asked me directly.
“It would seem that you are something more than a page in this retin
ue. You are treading dangerous ground if you encourage him!”
Her words were so filled with caution that it took me by surprise.
“Don't look so innocent, Antinoos. You know perfectly well what I am speaking about. The Emperor is known for his inclinations. You are a pretty boy and the Emperor has a taste for pretty boys. But he is a good man, and one concerned for the well-being of his subjects; he thinks straightforward and deals honestly. His mind is solid except for when he see a pretty face. You are out of the ordinary, my little fawn!”
Her words had been spoken softly. I believed her to be advising me about the Emperor. It did not occur to me that her words had come from her own desire. I had nothing to answer to all of it. My mind was unable to grasp the whole, and my anxiety over trying to keep focused on my work, made me even more ineffective. I kept moving from chest to chest, making piles here and there, getting nothing accomplished. Everywhere I went, Filiniana was beside me.
I stopped suddenly, and sat facing her.
“And what will you have me do?” I asked. “I am nothing, here. My purpose is to serve. My training has been to be of service. It was not my choice to be there!”
“Of that I am sure,” she said sarcastically. “But you are here with purpose. My Lady was attentive to this little dialogue of yours, this evening. She observed the interest the Emperor paid to one of his pages. She knows your function, I am sure of it!”
I had seen Sabina's kindness and felt her liking for me. To know that I had become a possible source of irritation to her and something of a rub, turned my nervousness to worry and I realized that the last thing I wanted to do was be forced to face her.
The lateness of the hour made further conversation impossible and we all rushed about, putting into place everything necessary for the royal dinner. In all, there would be eighty in attendance. Along with the Emperor's party, regional prefects and two monarchs from the East were part of the cortège. Throughout the evening, we scurried about to keep the warm food coming from the kitchens and to see that no wineglass remained empty. I kept my eyes diverted from the Emperor's and gave full attention to my duties. But I could not help but notice that Sabina's conversations with the Emperor's guests and her animated respect for the dignitaries was second to her curiosity of me. She watched me intently.