Urbicus cleared his throat.
“We’ve taken the liberty, sir, to do a preliminary search at first light of the riverside by the Temple of Amun. There is a craft fitting the Egyptian’s description moored nearby. But we have yet to discover who was sailing this craft yesterday,” he explained.
“Then find out, Quintus Urbicus, by high sun. You might have to consult one of the priests and take them into security,” Suetonius instructed. “Our uncertainties about the Bithynian’s death now grow with each hour.”
Urbicus raised a clenched salute and announced, “It will be done, sir!”
A trooper rewrapped Ani’s butchered head. He wiped-up the moist stain on the bench-top where it had dribbled juices, and then marched off with his colleagues.
Suetonius looked at the stain on the table and decided he didn’t feel especially hungry for breakfast. Surisca developed a similar lack of appetite. Clarus returned to devouring his platter of victuals and signaled a slave to pour wine.
“Where is the Bithynian youth Lysias? He is due here now! He’s late!” Clarus called.
“He is not to be found, gentlemen,” an oddly-accented voice unexpectedly interrupted.
Geta the Dacian had arrived at the courtyard accompanied by one of Caesar’s Horse Guards.
“I have been to visit Lysias at Antinous’s apartments to summons the lad to attend Caesar, only to learn he is not to be found,” Geta repeated. “The chamber slave says he hasn’t seen the Bithynian since late last night. The youth slipped away somewhere in the night, the slave told me. I had hoped he might be here with you already?”
Geta scanned the clustered team gathered around the long bench. His eyes fell upon Surisca and lingered momentarily. He displayed surprise. Surisca returned the gaze, only to then lower it demurely to the ground. Suetonius noted this interesting exchange.
“What of the language tutor, the slave Thais?” Suetonius added.
“I am told she too is not to be found,” Geta stated.
Clarus reacted angrily.
“What? Have these two absconded? Have we been deceived by the Bithynian?!” he clamored. “Issue a warrant to apprehend them both!”
The lictor departed briskly to his new commission.
“My good Septicius, to where can they abscond?” Suetonius posed. “Beyond this encampment lie irrigated fields of grain and then a wilderness of desert. There’s nowhere to go, my friend.” He turned to Geta. “You know these people well, Dacian,” the biographer queried Geta. “Where will they have gone?”.
The man with the faint blue circles tattooed across his cheekbones hesitated.
“I have no idea, Suetonius Tranquillus. You are the Special Inspector, not I.”
His eyes drifted back towards the Syrian female standing nearby with lowered eyes.
“What does this mean?” Clarus called rhetorically. “Two witnesses are killed, two others disappear into the night, while the hours pass quickly towards our deadline. And our heads are at stake!”
The biographer avoided response by making a formal introduction of the Syri entertainer to the Dacian.
“You have met the lady Surisca of Antioch, Prince Geta of Dacia?” Suetonius asked in his best silkily polite manner. He was offering an unlikely social gesture to two people of impossibly unequal status. He followed their interaction closely as Surisca dipped a suitable curtsy.
“Just Geta, Special Inspector,” the Dacian responded with unexpected modesty. “I am a simple man of little consequence. Yet I am pleased to acknowledge the lady Surisca of Antioch.”
Suetonius sensed the two already knew each other regardless of his genteel introduction. It occurred to him their meeting may have been of a professional nature it might not be polite to explore.
“Dacian,” Clarus proclaimed, “it’s time you gave us your opinions of the death of Antinous. You probably know things we don’t? You have lived close-by the lad daily. You knew him over several years.”
“I am at your disposal, gentlemen, though I must also attend to my duties shortly,” Geta responded evasively. “Feel free to ask what you will.”
His eyes barely departed Surisca.
“Strabon, our scribe will record your words. We have several questions to put to you, so take a seat,” Suetonius intoned. “This is a legal statement, a deposition, Geta, as Caesar commanded us. State you name and titles, your age and place of birth, and your functions in the Imperial Household. Remember, you are under oath to your titular deity.”
“Under oath? I, Geta, am being interrogated?” he asked with dismay. He sat against the edge of the bench table, not in the chair provided, implying only brief participation. Strabon’s stylus was poised ready to flutter. Geta gathered himself reluctantly.
“This is unexpected, gentlemen, but I’ll try. By Sacred Zalmoxis of the Dacians, I am known among Romans simply as Geta. This is a mistaken praenomen given to simplify my proper titles in my mother tongue. My true name is Dromichaetes, a tarabostes prince of the royal house of The Getae,” he announced with quiet pride. “I was born at Sarmizegethusa in the year when Palma Frontonianus and Sosius Senecio were consuls at Rome, I’m told. Caesar Trajan was ruler. I was taken hostage as a child after the wars against my father, the king of the Dacians known as Decebelus.
Rome’s victory against my father saw me assigned into the care of Hadrian when he was a commander of Legions. I remain even today under Hadrian’s protection in his household. Yet I possess my own independent wealth endowed from my father’s treasures. Hail Caesar!” the Dacian added diplomatically.
“What do you know about the death of Antinous?” Suetonius continued. “Tell us what you know or have heard. The Household gossip mill must be running riot?”
“I have no special knowledge, gentlemen,” Geta stated plainly. “Like you, I’m appalled at the tragedy. I can only imagine he fell into the river two nights ago? How, or where, or of what misadventure, I do not know. Perhaps he had taken too much wine? Perhaps he foolishly tried to swim while armored? Who knows? Perhaps he was dealt cruelly by some enemy? It is a waste of a young man’s life, and a serious hurt to our Caesar. Hadrian has taken it very badly, as you saw.”
“Do you believe the youth may have taken his own life? If so, why would he do so? Or was he a victim of treachery?” Clarus contributed.
Geta considered thoughtfully before responding.
“At Court there is always the possibility of foul play. There are many eddies of conflict at Court, political or romantic or financial. Some of them are dangerous, even life threatening. Others are trivial.
Yet Antinous was not caught up in factions or politics. He seemed quite apolitical, perhaps intentionally. He simply brought Hadrian great pleasure and relaxation from the ordeals of government. He was like a lively son, a frisky hound, or a well-loved horse. And we’ve come to realize Caesar’s affection was more than skin deep.
It strikes me the death benefits no one, so no political goal is achieved. It has caused Caesar great pain. Great pain. Perhaps this was the purpose of the death? Regarding the boy taking his own life, I cannot see why Antinous would do such a thing.”
“You say there is the possibility of foul play? Explain,” Suetonius probed. “We’ve already seen how unknown forces are willing to kill innocent people to impede our enquiry. Others disappear suddenly who were known to us as people of repute. Foul play is already among us.”
Geta drew breath before responding. His eyes flitted to Surisca again and again.
“Gentlemen, you are men of the world. You will appreciate there may be many forces at work in the life of the Household. Some of these forces take power and wealth very seriously. Issues of State are at stake. Personal ambitions are forged in the furnace of this Court. Great wealth can be achieved or lost. Shifts in political goals are fought with tenacity. Even affairs of the heart become matters of intrigue. It’s not all ceremony, feasting, and games, you are aware. What more can I say?”
He dismissed the query wi
th a shrug of the shoulders.
“You can say much more, good fellow,” Suetonius clarified. “For example, you will have an opinion of the nature of the current issues at Court which impact on these conflicts. Tell us of your perceptions of such things. We need to know.”
Suetonius wondered at Geta’s glib manner. It seemed strangely remote from the issues.
“There are many undercurrents at Court,” Geta conceded. “I am not sure I understand all of them myself. Of those pertaining to the dead boy, I suppose issues of the succession are uppermost.”
“What issues, Dacian? He was no candidate for the role.”
“Well, once again the Western Favorite has resumed his place at Caesar’s side.”
“Lucius Ceionius Commodus, the young senator?” Suetonius asked.
“Yes,” Geta continued. “Senator Commodus arrived from Rome at Alexandria only a month ago. Antinous has been staying out of sight because Commodus and he have a bad history together. Commodus is reputed to have inflicted that scar on Antinous’s left cheek some years ago. Commodus cleverly knows how Caesar abhors imperfections or mutilation. He is perceived to be the leading claimant to the imperial succession. Yet there are other claimants to the succession whose noses will be out-of-joint about Commodus’s recent return to Caesar’s favor.
But Commodus is now a married man, he’s no meirakion young man open to a role as an eromenos. In fact his wife is with child. Yet he remains high in Caesar’s esteem. Many believe Caesar is planning to adopt the senator as his son. And soon. If so, Commodus will be first in line to be Caesar after Hadrian’s passing. Mind you, Hadrian is also amused by the fellow’s uninhibited manners and clever wit. The fellow is irrepressible.”
“Does Commodus sleep with Caesar? Has the young senator displaced Antinous in his bed?” Clarus asked provocatively.
“My lords, it is not for one such as I to offer comment on such things! I am not authorized to report the private habits of --- .”
“Yes or no?!”
“I think it may be Yes,” Geta murmured. “Well, on one occasion that I know of. I do not think it was especially successful, but I do not monitor Caesar’s sleeping arrangements, gentlemen. These are Caesar’s own affair. I am not at liberty to ---”
Clarus interrupted again.
“Would this be grounds for suicide by the boy?”
“Suicide from despair? It might be,” the Dacian murmured weakly. “But I think Antinous is much hardier than that. Besides, Antinous may have had other issues to address.”
“Surely, with Antinous out of the way, claimants to the succession can consolidate their influence on Caesar to enhance their chances?” Suetonius proposed.
“It is possible, my lords. There are many possibilities,” Geta muddied the discussion.
“Are you suggesting Antinous was murdered to get him out of the way so the Western Favorite could consolidate adoption?” Suetonius probed.
“Many things are possible, my lord,” Geta replied evasively. “But I must not slander my fellow courtiers. They too may one day be my patrons and protectors.”
“What else could influence the death of the young Bithynian, Geta of Dacia?”
“If we are being so candid, my lords, perhaps you should consider the influence of the Egyptian priest known as Pachrates,” Geta responded. “He possesses a hold over both the emperor and Antinous.”
“A hold? What do you mean?”
“Well, at Alexandria and then again at Memphis on this river journey, this priest gave displays of magic and wizardry which impressed them both. Egypt contains many mysteries. The priest Pachrates is said to be its greatest exponent of sorcery. I have seen him do things I cannot explain,” Geta intimated in too-breathless a reverential hush.
“What sort of things, Dacian? Magical tricks and illusions?” Suetonius proposed.
Geta leaned forward conspiratorially.
“I have witnessed marvelous things. I have seen him and his assistants transform a wild cheetah on a leash into a bridled horse in flashes of fire and thunder. Both were living creatures who moved, spat, snarled, or snorted --- they were no illusion, my friends.
Most of all, I have seen his assistants behead a condemned criminal, who bled across the stones of the courtyard just as in an arena. Then with a race of curtains, much drumming, colored smoke, and cries of magical formulae, he restored the same beheaded man to life again. He was returned to life all in one piece. It was an extraordinary achievement!
Pachrates has spells for all occasions and purposes. Egypt is in his thrall, and much of Egypt is willing to pay well for his services,” the Dacian enthused. “Our own astrologer Aristobulus and the mystical poet Julia Balbilla are attracted by the priest’s skills. I believe even the empress, Julia Vibia Sabina, follows his arts.”
“Doesn’t the Augusta Sabina follow the cult of the Roman priestess Anna Perenna, the wife of Governor Titianus? At least so I’ve been told?” Clarus asked. “Surely she prefers Roman magic to foreign sorcery?”
Geta was startled by the comment.
“Anna Perenna? The Grandmother of Time? Is this who you mean?” he asked.
“Grandmother of Time? More like Queen of the Witches!” Clarus challenged.
“She’s the woman the Prefect Governor Titianus treats as a wife, though she’s not his wife,” Geta confirmed. “She travels with the Governor on his barque The Alexandros which follows close behind the empress’s Dionysus. Anna Perenna has her own chamber aboard his vessel, I am told. Yet as a priestess she is well regarded by the women of the Court. She has panaceas for all manner of women’s matters. But this is the science of an apothecary, not a sorceress or witch ---”
“I assume she’s a master poisoner too?” Clarus added. “In what way does the Egyptian magician or this Roman priestess reflect upon the death of the Bithynian, Dacian?”
Geta thought carefully before responding.
“It’s to do with Caesar’s condition. Many are worried at it. It’s his cough.”
“His cough? We have been told it is not improving?”
“Worse, it grows. I have seen days when Caesar coughs up light sprays of blood. He complains his chest is on fire. His features become ruddy and inflamed. He lies down for long periods to alleviate its severity. The physicians are reluctant to treat him. They sense the matter is serious and do not wish to be attached to so exalted a medical failure. We are not to discuss it in public. It impinges on issues of the State, and that’s forbidden,” Geta murmured as the group subsided into thoughtfulness..
“How do this priest or the priestess fit into this matter?” Suetonius asked.
“Well, if Pachrates and his like can bring beheaded criminals back to life and rejoin them into a single piece again, perhaps this priest of Amun can cure an emperor’s cough?”
“Oh,” the biographer returned, “you mean Priest Pachrates should perform his magic upon Caesar? Cure his coughing sickness?”
“Of course. At least that’s what some people have been asking,” Geta surmised, “especially Antinous some weeks ago at Memphis. However I’ve observed how Pachrates can talk up many things, but he carefully talks down his skill with cures. He always seemed to have a good reason for avoiding the subject in Caesar’s and Antinous’s company --- even when the boy put it plainly to him recently.
Antinous wears an Abrasax jewel on his finger. It was a special gift from Hadrian. Abrasax is a deity of infinity and eternal life, they say, capable of great magic. Antinous wanted Pachrates to use the ring, which was said to belong to Basileus Alexandros long ago, to restore Hadrian to full health.
Pachrates claimed he only knew the magic of Amun, not of other gods. He doesn’t know the magic of Abrasax. So he slipped out from under again.”
Suetonius filed the matter of the Abrasax ring to his mental notes. Where was the ring? It was not seen upon the cadaver in Caesar’s sleeping quarters, and nor was it upon the corpse on the embalmer’s table. Where was the blue jewel? Had it be
en stolen?
“So why should we explore this avenue of investigation, Geta?” Suetonius asked.
“Because Pachrates knows something he’s not telling us. I don’t know what it is, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it didn’t have something to do with Antinous’s death. That’s all,” the Dacian rounded off. “But I must leave you now and rejoin Caesar.”
He finalized his interview with the authority of someone with far more important issues to address.
“No, Dacian, you may not!” Clarus intoned with his magistrate’s authority. “We have other matters to discuss with you. You claim the Western Favorite is an enemy of the dead youth?”
“Yes,” Geta murmured quietly, “but you must tread with care on the matter.”
“Why? What has transpired between them which makes them enemies? Speak plainly to us. We want to know.”
The Dacian rested impatiently back onto the table’s edge and glanced furtively between Surisca and his interrogators. He was not happy at this turn of events.
“It is a nettlesome story, gentlemen. It occurred four years ago when the Household was passing through Athens. It was after a long tour of the Empire. Antinous had been introduced to Caesar briefly at Bithynia, where they found each other’s company highly agreeable. Antinous and his chum Lysias, accompanied by their Latin instructor Thais of Cyrene, traveled to Achaea to complete their education at Athens.
As usual I was travelling with Caesar’s Household, so I was a witness to the events which transpired, or heard of them from others. Later I heard greater detail from Antinous or Lysias themselves over shared wine. I also garnered some private details from slaves who report to me. I follow such things closely on Caesar’s behalf.
Athens was Caesar’s priority destination for that tour. He had been appointed President of the spring festival of the Great Dionysia, events which bring Hadrian great satisfaction. Their arrival at Athens was to be a pleasure to both Caesar and the Bithynian, so the sojourn was highly anticipated by all, including me. It proved to be an important, if unexpected, conjunction of personalities.
The Hadrian Enigma - A Forbidden History Page 22