by R G Berube
When the food had been removed and the more potent wines were brought, many who were in attendance became loud and boisterous. I could see that within this context Hadrian and Sabina had become involved in deep discourse while their guests were being entertained by Nubian charmers who danced and played instruments, weaving among the couches. I stood in the shadows, waiting for a sign of need of service. All servants save four had been dismissed for the remainder of the evening. Filiniana had rebuked me with a poke of her finger, before leaving. There had been no need of words. I felt on trial!
The intent of the banquet had been festive, but soon the air turned to more serious things and Sabina retired to her quarters, but not without first passing close to me and letting her eyes rest briefly on mine. I saw no anger.
Niratius Priscus, a close companion of the Emperor, knowledgeable of law and advisor of same, motioned me to approach with more wine. I poured carefully, standing only inches away from Hadrian as he lay reclined in conversation. The intensity of close proximity made my knees weak. I began to move away but was stopped by his hand on my leg. He motioned to have his cup filled. As I bent near, his lips came close to my ear and he whispered.
“Be patient, little Bithynian. Your time will come soon enough. For now, let yourself be concerned with the manner of what goes on here. Observe. Remember. It will keep you in good stead. Now wait close by, I want you near!”
I stood where he pointed, and the heat of my neck and face was like searing coals. There were several eyes on me all at once; some, of a curious nature. Some, I feared. The hour wore on and my legs found it difficult to support my weight. My eyes were like leaden shades and it was only with greatest effort that I kept them open. Within the tent, the smell of food, wine, the smoke of the pipes and aroma of the burning lamps, all lent to a heaviness that made me feel intoxicated.
With my head reeling and my mind somewhat fogged, I found myself in full stare of him and realized that he too, had been looking at me for some time. When Hadrian noticed clarity coming back into my eyes, he smiled and with his hand, bid me come closer.
“You are exhausted, my little Greek. Leave us now. Take your sleep near my quarters. Tell the guard that I have instructed you so, and give him this as proof.”
Hadrian handed me a broach that tied his cape. I set the wine jar down and with the other pages looking on, left with a feeling of both relief and anxiety; relief to be rid of the occasion, and anxiety for what was to come.
Chapter Seven
Ganymede, Spring 127 A.D.
In the passing hours the crescent moon had traveled below the hills and the forest had released its peculiar dampness, tinged with the scent of moss and pine that marked the end of night and heralded the nearing dawn. A hand on my shoulder brought me out of my reverie and I thought it the hand of the watchman who had stopped throughout the night to assure that I needed nothing more for warmth.
When I first arrived and placed the broach in view of the Captain of the Guard, he escorted me to a small tent close to the one used by the Emperor. There, I settled into a fitful slumber marked by phantoms stimulated by all that had occurred during the day. I saw myself between two powerful giants, each trying to tear me apart. These two first appeared as friendly specters, each having offered me succor from a journey of unidentified origin whose purpose it was for me to find a land in which I would discover peace.
As I was tossed by the monsters from hand to dreadful hand, I felt myself torn to pieces, each part wrenched from its place with perverse pleasure. Each agonizing separation was accompanied by the sound of thunder and a pain of equal force. I watched myself reduced to nothing, and the anguish slowly turned to terror as I became no more. Through the removal of pain and anguish as I expired, the finding of peace in release brought forth a final, desperate agony.
My cries called attention to me and the guard on duty knelt beside me and soothed me with a lullaby sung in a Germanic tongue which I did not understand, but which had its desired effect.
Some time later I opened my eyes and saw before me in the pale light of the campfire shining through the canvass, the Emperor. His face showed concern. He whispered and touched me gently on the brow.
“You have waited long and I am sorry for having been detained. But many matters are discussed and settled under the guise of revelry. Wine is the messenger and facilitator of arbitration.”
I yawned, then realized the grossness of the act and quickly covered my mouth in shame and fear.
“Well you might yawn, my little Bithynian,” he laughed. “Pay it no heed. Come, follow me and we will obtain something more comfortable than these sheep-skins for your bedding.”
The Emperor led the way past the guards who stood rigidly at attention at the sight of his approach. Hadrian passed the sentries positioned at his door, and we entered the large tent. What I saw brought me fully awake. I had imagined the Emperor's private quarters to be opulent and luxurious. They were plain and sparse. The only excess was a pallet piled thick with large cushions which I took to be the bed. He pointed to it.
“This is not my usual sleeping place. I had this prepared for you. Come, lie with me for a while and tell me about your life since we last met.”
Hadrian stood silently as two servants entered and assisted him as he disrobed. Two others came to me and began to perform the same service. I moved away, not used to such fawning. The servants, each having come to know me in the days we were together on the road, looked at me with awe and envy. I motioned for them to leave me.
“No, Antinoos! Let them do what they must do. You should begin to accustom yourself to such things.”
The servants approached me again. I relented. Once shed of my clothing and standing almost naked, feeling conspicuous, Hadrian dismissed everyone and we stood facing each other. He took my hand and led me to the bed and I followed willingly, heart pounding so loudly that I was sure everyone in camp could hear it. My body was rigid and nervous, the tension quite obvious in my muscles. With gentle hands, Hadrian soothed me so that soon, I was almost calmed and relaxed.
From somewhere in the camp came the sound of a flute, played by a soldier or slave unable to sleep. The notes drifted on the air as an aromatic spice cradled by the breeze. Few words were spoken between us. I filled with a security I had not known since those months when I had left my homeland and parents behind.
Hadrian held me to him and his strength, at first almost too forceful, soon became a gentle cushion to the tensions which had plagued me. I dared not press my intentions and waited patiently for his passion to give me direction. Yet he spoke, and continued to ask of my welfare, all the while urging me to respond. At first I found it difficult to speak in his presence. I could not believe he was truly interested. But his attention and questions showed me that he was indeed listening. I began to find myself talking freely, even effusively, as a means of hiding the anxieties of our closeness.
But this great man who ruled much of the world and had absolute power, took nothing from me but my companionship beside him. He had bathed but the scent of the soap could not cover the smell of leather and sweat which was so much a part of him and which, in years to come, would be more pleasing to me than those fragrances so often worn by the affected of the court.
In this our first time together, he did no more than hold me and tell me in his soothing words how destiny had brought me to him. I recalled his similar words spoken in the garden, the day we first met.
“Antinoos, forces will come to pull at you. You will be pressed by many who will feign to be friends, and in that guise they will plot you harm!”
He had prophesied. He spoke of the same forces now. His words pierced my sleepiness and it was as though he read my memory of the nightmare. I was startled by the perception and shivered from fear that this man could so clearly see my mind.
“These trials will be the forging of your strength and a test of your mettle. I have no doubt you will rise above these things. For now, let us give ourselv
es to sleep. Much has been done and much more faces us tomorrow.”
“But there is so little darkness left, my Lord. Shall I wake you at the end of the last watch?”
Hadrian laughed and hugged me.
“Sleep is something which even an Emperor cannot command or buy. It is not my lot to have much of it, and it is my fortune to require little. So, close your eyes and rest while we stay together like this. You are a comfort to me. Be less anxious of me, Antinoos. I mean you no harm. Are you still frightened of me?”
“Yes, a little!”
“Then perhaps time will soothe your apprehensions. Sleep, now.”
His hand rubbed my back as I lay cradled by his side. I do not know if he was aware of my arousal. Certainly its manifestation was obvious beneath my sheer tunic. But he made no move other than pulling the linen cover over me and soon, I drifted into sleep.
The sentry's voice calling out the hour, penetrated my stupor. As I opened my eyes, I could see that Hadrian was already up and about his business. He greeted me, pointing to a table where bread and hot broth were waiting.
“Come child, eat quickly. You must return to the Empress' service, and I must be off.”
Something of my disappointment must have shown in my eyes. He came to me and tussled my hair, chucking me under the chin.
“What is this look, little Bithynian? Are you angry with me for sending you away? You must still fill your function here, Antinoos. No special privileges, yet!”
That he should think that I was objecting to being sent back because I expected privileges embarrassed me. My sorrow of leaving him was for no other reason than liking his company and enjoying the behind-the-scenes look at the Emperor's life. He seemed to lift my spirits.
I ate little and quickly dressed. All his semblance of grace and courtliness became replaced with the dryness and abruptness of the military. Couriers began to arrive and soon the Emperor forgot that I was there and this allowed me to leave quietly, escorted by one of his aides.
I returned to the section of the camp occupied by the entourage, and already the encampment was in process of being dismantled. All around, the bustle of the day had begun and when I entered my quarters all activity ceased. Try as I might to ignore the stares and questions asked by the other servants and slaves who had awaited my return, little could be done to reduce their inquisitiveness. Had all of them been simply curious, I would have considered myself well off. There were some among the group of pages who continued their abuse. Others, realizing something extraordinary was taking place by my position in the retinue, had become more solicitous; carefully ingratiating themselves into my good graces, although I did not recognize this at the time. I assumed these fellows were coming to better understand me and liking me more. That they were understanding there was no doubt! They understood much more than I! Still others could not move beyond their jealousies.
One among all who helped me maintain balance and something of sanity in the days ahead was Filiniana. Her role as arbitrator and conciliator to my involvement with the Emperor and Empress was of most importance. I later learned from Sabina's lips how my presence had moved her from rage to gradual acceptance, and finally, to my being considered as her link to Hadrian. We were separated by twenty years and sometimes I became more her son than rival. For me, she embodied some elements of my mother, for whom I yearned.
Filiniana supervised my every move. I seldom was out of her watchful eyes. Her attention was not so overwhelming that I objected. On the contrary, I enjoyed it and we became close. I was grateful for her regard. I knew that Filiniana had been instructed to stay close to me.
Her slight build and gentle manner belied a ferocity which I saw one day when Epitychamus, a page assigned to the Empress' clothing and personal effects, made a rude remark about my masculinity, or lack of it, when I was in the presence of the Emperor. Filiniana had been standing nearby and overheard his words. She approached him and cuffed him beneath the chin, remonstrating him with a warning. Surprised by her attack, the boy instinctively moved to protect himself by raising his fists. His status as a famuli clearly placed him below her own as close confidant to the Empress, which gave her undeniable supremacy. For this mistake of threatening her, Epitychamus was soundly boxed about the ears by her and he left almost in tears from the embarrassment, the blood rising to his face and turning it crimson. For those who witnessed this event, it was made evident that I was not to be annoyed and that the Emperor's name was not to be used lightly. Filiniana then turned to me and pushed me along to my chores.
“Though you rise to a Ganymede, you have not yet reached his stature, Antinoos. You must work like the rest of us. On with it!”
Her words left me wondering!
PART TWO
Chapter Eight
In Spirit, Greek, 127 A.D.
I knew much about him. Yet, there was so much more to know. Hadrian had been brought from Spain in his early years by his cousin Trajan, who was Praetor at the time. The boy Hadrian had lost his father when he was ten, and his immediate care had been assigned to Acilius Attianus, a knight who later became Prefect of the Guard and of deeply significant assistance to his young ward.
Hadrian rose to prominence slowly. He was tested by the demanding Trajan. When he proved himself capable, his position was further strengthened by his marriage to Sabina, Trajan's niece. Rumors abounded throughout the school that shades of doubt existed concerning Hadrian's rise to the purple. Some said that as a lover of Plotina, Trajan’s wife, he had maneuvered himself to the throne. But these things were only whispered and never spoken aloud.
Much of his early education was received in Athens. It was there that he came to love Hellenism; a proclivity for which he would be criticized by many of his contemporaries. It was there that he nurtured his gifts of music, poetry, dialectics, and his passion for sculpture; especially of this kind produced by Polyclitus and Praxiteles. He became mesmerized by the architectural achievements of Ictinus and Callicrates, designers of the rebuilding of the Acropolis. The words and thoughts of Aristophanes, Protagoras, Socrates, Sophocles, Thucydides, and a host of other famous men of letters became his foundation for thought. Because of his love of the Greeks, he was often called Greekling by those who sought to belittle his temperament.
Hadrian was a military commander of extraordinary ability. He rivaled Trajan in the qualities of leadership. He was a taskmaster who rode beside his soldiers and shared in their meals and hardships. He was greatly admired and respected by his men. He gave himself fully to them and in turn, demanded discipline and order. In the provinces where some officers and prefects had surrounded themselves with luxurious accommodations and excessive comforts, Hadrian stripped them to what they once had been, and reprimanded or removed to more remote locations those responsible for abusing their power of office.
His reign began with death. Attianus was a life-long friend who had followed Hadrian from Africa to Greece, and then to Rome. He had been given a prominent position when the Emperor had come to the purple. Before Hadrian returned to Rome, from his campaign in the North, as the new Emperor, Attianus, believing that he was removing potentially dangerous opposition in the Roman Senate, had four of its members put to death. These executions forever perjured relations between Hadrian and that ruling body. Hadrian understood the terrible mistake made by the act, and held Attianus responsible, forcing him to resign his post as Prefect. There was something about how this close relationship, one which had been nurturing to Hadrian and now seriously eroded in confidence and respect, affected his other relationships in which he was forced to place utmost confidence on trusted aides. Many times during our moments together he would converse with himself as though alone, and remark, wondering when this one or that one would fail him or if that one would mislead or desert him. Attianus stood as a watermark against which others were judged or pitted.
Like his relationship with his men of the army years, he demanded the same kind of loyalty of those who were close to him. But
each of these relationships was tinged with suspicion. All this forced me to be profoundly attentive to his mood. I took no allegiances, courted no favors, made no promises, and kept a deaf ear to the daily temptations of court. But of course in the early years, I knew nothing of his penchant for absolute allegiance and took him for whatever part he offered. He was so gently kind to me at moments, that when I saw his rages I could not believe him to be the same man. And at these times, I would fill with such panic and pain that I too, would become morose and withdrawn, wondering at his anger.
These very words bring tears. I recall with supreme affection this wonderful man. I see his face, still; the deeply penetrating eyes set close and always observing. Sometimes as I looked into them I could see the gray-blueness, distant thoughts and almost hidden longings. He would catch me at this and for a moment, sternly scrutinize my motives. But then, he would remember me and know that my love for him was absent of anything but devotion.
The line of his mouth, seldom smiling, could suddenly lose its sternness and the frown brought on by the weight of his position, would become a smile. With tenderness he would turn, and just at the moment when I believed myself forgotten by him, he would give me a kind word or ask some question relating to the discussion at hand. He never failed to make it known that he considered me important, albeit sometimes due to the demands made of his time, it would be days before I would see him.