by R G Berube
We returned to Alexandria and to the notoriety of the hunt. Hadrian was congratulated and celebrated. Sabina had served well in his absence, managing to placate some of the worst gossips with favors and gifts. Lucius Commodus had arrived. His grand looks and regal airs had not set well with the populace. Not that Lucius actively performed in a manner not becoming his station! On the contrary, he exhibited a most restrained manner. But there were those who would not see him as anything other than the Emperor’s toy.
Once again, we were in a city filled with dissension. With an elite Greek population, other races were denied power. The Egyptian peasantry were the lowest of ethnic groups, forced to hard labor and long hours of toil in the fields to feed the bellies of Rome and much of the remaining empire. They resented Roman rule and detested the Greeks for having become their masters.
When Hadrian had first suggested the eastern journey I had not anticipated the problems and ill will that we found. The degree to which he was criticized, confounded him. Had the land been less in need and the various factions more in accord, our own morality would have been less open to question. He set about bringing some settlement. I believe the charge for Lucius and myself to act as his emissary at Heliopolis was to remove us from the scene and reduce the discord in Alexandria. Heliopolis had been the city of the Sun God, Ra. With its ancient temples and school of Egyptian science, it has been the setting for a number of exotic cults.
Situated on a hill, this city had been once a thriving center. It now stood deserted, save for the priests, practitioners of magic and astrology who maintained the temples and survived on the business of their art. The priest, Pancrates, was said to hold formidable power. He was respected by all who spoke of him. I played my part, that of companion to Lucius Commodus, conceding all arrangements for the Emperor’s meeting to his authority and station. We suffered each other, neither greatly trusting the other. His grace of style and manner contrasted to my own humble origin. I understood the reasons for Hadrian’s initial attraction and his continued interest, and intention to make Lucius his successor.
Hadrian arrived several days later when all had been made ready. The Emperor met with Pancrates and was instructed on how to prepare for the ceremony which was promised to yield revelations. For three days Hadrian fasted and kept himself in seclusion, meditating for hours and meeting with the priest for instruction. On the fourth day as the sun set, accompanied by Lucius and myself, Hadrian entered a dark hall within the Temple of the Sun. Its interior was filled with smoke and the scent of incense. Hadrian had kept himself apart from us and when I again saw him before the ritual, he seemed preoccupied and detached. Only his smile and brief touch convinced me that he recognized me.
The ritual began with prayers in the ancient tongue that Hadrian had previously been instructed to memorize. I understood none of it. This lasted for some time. Pancrates recited long passages and Hadrian responded according to formula. With passing time the hall became increasingly dark and more filled with the smoke of incense and from the few lanterns that lined the walls. Hadrian became rigid, his words spoken in a strange manner unlike his own. At what seemed to be a climatic point in their dialogue, Pancrates commanded the Emperor to look into the darkness of a far quarter of the room. My own eyes were directed to the same place. Lucius followed the order as well. Nothing but shadows could be seen. After a few moments something took form, a large mass that seemed to move in frantic motion. I was startled and lost the vision when Hadrian’s voice filled the room with a lament that tore through me and almost moved me to run to his aid. But I held my place, reminded to do so by Lucius’ restraint. Pancrates turned his head and looked us in the eyes. His raised arm told us to be patient and not to interfere. Hadrian slowly slumped from his sitting position and fell to the floor, eyes glazed and directed on the priest. Pancrates pointed a finger to another section of the room. There in the lamp’s light stood a kid. Frightened and tugging at its tether. Pancrates spoke a series of words, all the while making motions with his hands. Directing both hands toward the animal, the kid collapsed, all life having gone from its body.
“I implore you, young gentlemen, take notice and verify the animal has given up its life,” Pancrates commanded. I followed Lucius, passing close to my beloved and with all my might, restrained myself from taking him into my arms. Commodus kneeled, pressing his fingers against the animal’s neck, bringing his face close to its mouth.
“There is no life, Priest!”
We resumed our places. Pancrates spoke again, once more invoking whatever forces his power commanded, turning his attention to Hadrian. He began to speak and moved his hands as he had done before. I became filled with fear, suspecting what would follow. Surely the priest would not impose his magic and jeopardize the Emperor’s safety! Yet nothing could still my heart’s pounding, every muscle of my being yearning to rise and interrupt the terrible performance. My body would not move! Not a finger could I control. There had been no movement of Hadrian’s reclined body and his eyes were closed.
“Rise,” Pancrates called. “Come to your Lord, see how he has gone beyond!”
Lucius tried to stand but could not.
“You...,” the priest called to me. “It is for you to do this.”
I felt myself released from my confined state and found that I could move easily. Hadrian was lying quietly. I followed Lucius’ example and tried to find Hadrian’s pulse, but could not! My hand trembled as I searched frantically.
“Be still now, Antinoos,” Pancrates stood above me. “Place your hand above his heart. Repeat my words.”
I listened intently and tried to repeat the sounds Pancrates spoke, not understanding what I was saying. This incantation lasted until the formula was completed. Never did my eyes leave Hadrian’s face and in my heart I wished him life at any cost. He opened his still-glazed eyes and extended a hand to be aided to stand, saying nothing.
“Seat him,” I was told. Lucius Commodus had come forward, his angry eyes directed at me. But he said nothing.
“Death is life of a different form,” Pancrates continued, bidding us to be seated beside the Emperor. “Lord, you please the gods. You have honored them by your deeds. You have seen what you have seen, here! Much displeases you about your health. Mortal gods perish through weakness of the flesh. That, no mortal god has escaped. Yet certain rituals may come to bear upon the extension of the tender thread of life to which we hold so precious. It has been done! You see there...”
Pancrates pointed to the dead kid. “In death the animal has given over to the Emperor’s life whatever time it would have had as its own. So too it must be done by one close and dear to you for all of what you seek to do to be accomplished.
“As the river brings rebirth and life to the land of Egypt through destruction, so too will the fruits of your labors be given life by the sacrifice of another. It is the pattern!”
Hadrian began to speak but Pancrates raised a hand.
“The answers you seek will be given. Follow the Sacred River!”
It was made clear by the finality of his tone that the ritual had come to an end. I felt compelled to ask Hadrian so much about his experience, yet the calmness deep within me kept me silent. I had the answers, seeking only their confirmation. Therefore, I resolved to the plan that had been long in formulation, encouraged by what I had seen and heard. When we spoke of the event, Hadrian had little recollection of the details and he was astonished when Lucius and I recounted what had occurred. Lucius was much displeased that he had not been chosen to come to the Emperor’s aid at the temple. That I had been called was perceived as insult and threat. Hadrian eased the young aristocrat by explaining the choice as symbolic of my position, one of servitude. Lucius’ destiny was not to be of service but of succession.
“And the vaporous cloud..., what did you see in it? My own eyes witnessed something in it, but nothing of clarity.” I said.
“You saw something, then?”
“Yes,” I replied, surprised
that he thought I had not. “Lucius saw also. Something more than smoke but nothing clear enough to be identified.”
Hadrian appeared still impressed by the event.
“The scene was as clear as when it happened. It was the lion of Lybia. It charged us and we were side by side. As I aimed the spear and let it fly, I became the beast and received the wound. Then you were standing over me and speaking words. I was so relieved to see you, Antinoos!”
Hadrian had some resistance to describing too much of the experience, therefore I pursued the questioning no further. Lucius kept his silence and allowed Hadrian time to reflect. He took Pancrates’ directive to embark upon the Nile journey seriously. In September we left Heliopolis and followed the river upstream, destined to find meaning in the river’s legacy. The priest’s abilities were made legitimate and in the days that followed Hadrian experienced several dreams in which Pancrates spoke to him and directed the flotilla. Soon we were joined by the Empress and her retinue. Much excitement was stimulated by the sights and customs of this mysterious land. Hadrian remained secluded. He passed on the business of state and of those duties that did not directly demand the Emperor’s attention, to Lucius Commodus, Sabina, and his aides.
Much weighed on his mind. The Imperial Party had stopped at Babylon to inspect the Legion XXII Deiotariana and where once, this inspection would have filled him with vitality, he now moved through the protocol with little enthusiasm. Even the pyramids near that place gave him little cause for curiosity. At Memphis, site of the sanctuary of the sacred Apis Bull, Hadrian consulted with its priests and sought verification to what he had been told by Pancrates. Much speculation existed among the accompanying party of the Emperor’s somber and pensive mood as having less to do with political distractions than with periods of illness. Again he fell to episodes of bleeding and weakness and of these, like so many times before, I was sworn to secrecy. We paused in the Fayoum, a fertile valley of some importance to the feeding of the Empire. Hadrian’s purpose was to meet with the regent and merchants who had been complaining against pressing taxes and the aridity of the land. The Emperor was expected to intervene and bring an end to troubles both civil and agricultural. Although some days were spent in rest, Hadrian continued to show discomfort and preoccupation. He found it difficult to concentrate on his work. My own spirit mirrored his. I was unable to avoid or ignore the signs continually presented to me along the Nile of those simple souls who had died in its waters. Many of them had been of young men who by sacrifice or mishap, had offered themselves to the river as tribute to its bounty. From the Imperial barge I saw evidence of their apotheosis in the shrines erected in their honor, and of the cults dedicated to their memories. As we traveled further I was more preoccupied with the notion of my plan and became filled with a reverent sense of purpose. Slowly, joy began to fill me. When Hadrian asked about my up-lifted mood and its cause, I was unable to speak the truth but explained myself as fired by the excitement of travel and the wonders surrounding us.
By October we reached the city of Hermopolis Magna to celebrate the anniversary of the death of Osiris, the occasion being one of particular importance. This would not be observance filled with revelry, but one of solemnity. There was great concern for the condition of the land. For this reason the Emperor’s presence held particular importance. Hadrian made contact with the priests and devoted long hours in conversation and study, seeking guidance and a solution to the emergency.
It was at this time that Julia Balbilla organized a pilgrimage to local shrines. I was extended an invitation by Sabina and this meant she expected me to accept. In the company of Athenoseos, who had recently shown concern for my stability and seemed never from my side, I reluctantly left Hadrian behind. The company visited the tomb of Petosiris, a well known priest whose life had been taken by the Nile, centuries before. Having obtained immortality and deification by sacrificing himself to the river, he was revered and honored. Most striking was the tomb of the young girl, Isadora. The little shrine on the bank of the Nile was profuse with garlands and a multitude of tributes, and the procession of worshipers seemed endless.
“She was called to Isis,” Julia Balbilla explained.
“The child lost her life during a dry season many years ago. Hunger and illness plagued the land and many had already died. In those days human sacrifice had gone out of fashion and selection of a victim for sacrifice by the priests was unacceptable. Isadora had walked into the river to bathe. She was not seen again. Soon after, the drought came to an end and the land flourished once again for several seasons. The child was taken to have been selected for her purity by Osiris, and she was immortalized by the priests.”
I was moved by the tale and remained at the shrine for some time, in contemplation. Similar stories were told throughout the region and the intensity with which they were related heightened as the date of the celebration to Osiris approached. Nothing could reduce the ever-present anxiety I felt for Hadrian’s concern. No soothsayer, magician, or priest who spoke to gods, none of the mysterious and strange people who populated the land of Egypt and who insured the Emperor that fate was in his favor, could lift the pallor of cataclysm that constantly occupied my mind. Every moment away from him was a time of torture.
I wondered if my participation in Julia Balbilla’s pilgrimage had been arranged with the intent to keep me from him, and I suspected intrigues wherever I went. Tongues would become silent in my presence. As days passed I experienced a heightened sense of being moved in mind and body toward an unknown destiny and I felt myself a stranger in a strange land. Every aspect of the land through which we passed seemed somehow familiar and the haunting kinship and peace within me seemed associated with the river, and this familiarity made me expectant. I knew forces were at work. Lucius Commodus remained behind as requested by Hadrian. My sole companion was Athenoseos.. Even he could not make me feel safe. His attention to me was lost in my self-absorption and I never realized until too late his degree of devotion in the many nights he spent at the foot of my pallet when I was not with Hadrian, silently watching over me. Although we had grown close in friendship, there were still parts of me that I trusted to no one. Athenoseos knew much was on my mind, and with love he pressed me to speak of my sorrow and dark mood. Understanding little of the sweeping changes occurring in me, the boy ascribed my temperament to the complexities of my unorthodox relationship. He stayed by me and like a jealous wife guarded my time, trying to protect me from those whom he believed were the cause of my discomfort. I prized his loyalty but resisted his controlling ways, and we sometimes fought like lovers. Indeed it was assumed by many that we were illicit lovers doomed to face the Emperor’s wrath. Hadrian understood our bond and enjoyed the rumors and speculation it caused. So it was with relief that I returned to him.
For three days I remained close him, fearing that each moment not spent at his side was one deducted from an allotted sum, like petals peeled from a bud, each reducing the beauty of the whole into nothingness. In the deep of night I clung to him in desperation. When I was able to sleep I found no peace in dreams but wandered through landscapes peopled by phantoms without faces, all receding into an indistinguishable distance. Through these torments, with effort I would search for Hadrian’s face among the mass of bodies and in the darkness of unknown streets and fearsome byways. Awakened by his hand when he would have sensed my terror, he soothed me with his embrace and only then would I escape into peace for the few remaining hours.
In Hermopolis Magna a somber mood prevailed over the land. The city’s citizens prepared for rites which many hoped would bring an end to the drought. October had always been a month of promise of Osiris’ abundant gifts. Clouds would fill with life-giving rain and pressed against the southern mountains to spill their content upon the land. Melting snows from distant slopes flowed into rivers and streams that merged with the Mother River and the Nile would become a torrent, thick and dark with the captured soil of the lands through which it coursed, spilling over
its banks and covering the land with a renewed life, Egyptians paid homage to Osiris. So the cycle went in good times. But for two seasons Egypt had not been blessed. To many, the presence of the Emperor pointed to an end of the despair and to that degree, all Egypt looked to Hadrian as Osiris incarnate.