“I see,” the woman said with complete composure. “This is an interrogation? I doubt I can be of much assistance to you but, well then, take your dictation.”
“For our record, name who you are and under whose household do you receive protection or patronage? State your origins, age, and personal details.”
“Me? I see. Well sirs, I am known as Anna Perenna, the priestess of the cult of Anna Perenna at Alexandria. I am a freeborn Roman citizen and have been trained in our arts since childhood at our ancient foundation at Rome.
I was assigned to Egypt three years ago as the cult’s representative under the protection of the Prefect Governor, Flavius Titianus. I live as a member the governor’s clientela, but am sustained by an endowment independently afforded by my foundation at Rome. I also receive fees and gifts as a priestess to adherents of my cult. My age? I am told I was born in the first year of Caesar Trajan, which makes me thirty-two years of age. I do not know which month, but I celebrate my birth on Anna Perenna’s traditional date.”
Suetonius thought that an odd uncertainty in someone of the patrician class, but many people are uncertain of their exact age regardless of class.
“So you are a citizen of Rome, madam?” Suetonius enquired out of heightened curiosity, recognizing how interrogation-by-torture would not be a legal option.
“We priestesses of one of the most ancient consecrated orders of Roman tradition are citizens by definition,” she replied confidently. “But we’re a permissive cult unlike, say, the Vestals who are committed to absolute chastity on pain of death. For many centuries we’ve been known for our merry ways and we live to our liking.
We especially serve women with the medicaments, herbs, and practices necessary for controlling fertility. We also provide all manner of charms and potions to assist in love making or romance and dealing in matters of sex, childbearing, or attracting a partner. The services of Anna Perenna are highly sought after.”
“I’m sure you are, madam. You are aware of the young man Antinous’s death, my lady?” Clarus asked plainly.
Perenna considered her response thoughtfully.
“Why, gentlemen, should I know anything about the young man’s death?”
“It is known to us, madam, how you have shared the company and conversation of the youth on occasions over recent times,” Suetonius proposed. “We seek your views on the matter.”
“So? I share the company of many members of the Court, gentlemen. I offer advice on matters of a personal nature to quite a few of the Household. This has included the youth Antinous in recent times. It is my duty and my vocation as a priestess of my cult. It also enhances my income.”
“I return to our original question, madam. What is your knowledge of the death of the Bithynian? Please remember, madam, we are recording your words in due legal process,” Suetonius stated purposefully as Strabon’s stylus fluttered over a wax tablet.
“Nothing, gentlemen. I know absolutely nothing of the Bithynian’s death,” she declared conclusively, “though I was saddened to hear of it. I’ve included the shade of the dead lad in my daily prayers and offerings. I will pray for him through the nine days of his shade’s progress through the Underworld to assist in his resolve.”
“His resolve, did you say Madam?” Suetonius queried.
Perenna baulked for a moment before such an ignorant query.
“The newly-deceased need all the prayers that may be offering, gentlemen,” she confirmed. “His journey through the Underworld deserves our support, don’t you think?”
“In your past conversations with him did you detect any issues which could lead to such an unexpected outcome? We are led to believe he discussed matters with you on occasion, possibly of a personal nature?” the biographer asked.
“I do not share the confidences of my clients with others, gentlemen, as you would expect. But the fellow is dead and it’s true he was unhappy about many things, to my view. As many at Court were aware, his relationship with Great Caesar had expired. Yes, he did seek advice from me on certain matters, and I offered my assistance as best I could.”
“What was the advice he sought and the manner of your assistance?” Clarus forwarded.
“Some things remain confidential, gentlemen. Yet I suggested to Antinous I would prepare a suitable potion and advise him of an appropriate ritual which might fulfill his needs. This appeared to address his motives,” she offered quietly. “He was a willing supplicant.”
“Was your potion for Antinous, or for Caesar, priestess?” Suetonius asked with just the barest hint of skepticism. “And did your rituals achieve their desired effects?”.
The eyes of the woman with the painted, scarred features flashed intently from behind their ashen pallor for a moment, but then resumed their unwavering gaze.
“The potion was only for the youth. I would not dare prescribe an elixir for Great Caesar unless requested personally by our Princeps or his physicians.”
“What were the lad’s motives precisely then, madam?” Suetonius continued. Perenna hesitated.
“The Bithynian wished a magical substitution, a special mystical substitution. My potion and ritual was created to give Antinous solace in this matter. The ritual was to affect a transfer of energies, once a traditional specialty of my cult. Whether it has achieved its goals is yet to be seen, my lords,” the priestess uttered, somewhat ambiguously.
“Yet to be seen?” Clarus barked. “The boy is dead, madam! What is there to see?”
“So you have told me, gentlemen,” she replied simply.
“Do you expect the lad to revive from his fate, Priestess?!” Clarus continued.
“People reach from beyond the grave in differing ways, gentlemen,” Perenna replied enigmatically. “I am not denying or confirming such possibilities.”
She uttered this with the confidence of either the true believer or an utter confabulator.
Suetonius decided to take a different path.
“My lady, we are told you possess remarkable skills. It’s said you commune with the dead. Is this true?” the Special Inspector asked. The priestess shifted bolt upright.
“Where did you learn this notion?” she asked.
“From several sources, madam,” Suetonius replied, “including the Prefect Governor.”
“I am the priestess of my tradition at Alexandria, sir. From our inception at Rome in the time of the Etrurian kings we have engaged in wonders. Originally we were simple celebrants of the seasons and the annual harvest at Rome, but over the ages we’ve become mistresses of Cyclical Time itself. This, as well too as fertility, childbirth, or spiritual healing,” the calm figure before the group expounded without diffidence.
“From time to time as the Grandmother of Time we are called upon to make contact with the deceased. We look deeply into Time and search out the shades of the dead. In this art we explore ways to heal the living or put the dead to rest. Or, we utilize Time itself to exchange a devotee’s fate with another’s to affect enhanced life. We attend the infirm and the hale alike. There is much in our tradition which challenges the notions of the mundane world, yet we bring comfort or reassurance to our devotees.”
“Are you able to make contact with our deceased, Antinous, to enquire his view of his passing from his own lips, woman?” Clarus interposed provocatively.
“Not at this time, my lord,” was the shrewd reply. “His shade is on its long journey to its final rest. Even nine days barely begins the adventure.”
“Then can you look into Time, madam, and see what occurred to the boy two days ago?” Suetonius added even more provocatively.
“Not without his shade’s cooperation,” was the plausible if eluding reply. Suetonius had again heard a fortunate omission from a professed seer.
“Yet you believe he will reach from the grave, milady?”
“Possibly, when he is ready. I will await the signals,” she offered generously.
The group of four looked upon the haughty figure with wavering c
onfidence.
“Where were you, madam, on the day of the boy’s death?” Suetonius proceeded.
“I have barely departed the precincts of The Alexandros since the barque’s assembly here on the day of our arrival last week. There is nothing in this remote place to interest me.”
“Do you realize, madam, how many of the natives of this part of Egypt are claiming the death of Antinous will induce a miracle?” Suetonius stated. “They say he’s a sacrifice to their gods, and that the river flowing beneath us here will flood to its desired height next season because of his death?”
“I too have heard that said,” she responded.
“Some say the priests of Amun may have engineered this event? Do you believe these Egyptian wizards are capable of such a crime?” Clarus probed. “In fact, we’ve been told the priest known as Pachrates of Memphis may have had a role in such a conspiracy.”
Perenna remained seated in a pensive mood for some moments.
“I am not aware of such a conspiracy, sirs,” she replied, “and I do not know the gifts of this priest Pachrates. But I’ve come to learn how in this odd land conspiracy abounds and deceit is commonplace. It is true the priests of the Old Religion here are eager to regain their influence with Pharaoh and have their temple lands restored to them. I’m sure they’ll stop at nothing to achieve their goals.”
“But would killing Great Caesar’s consort be a suitable gesture? Surely this would seem a risky enterprise likely to deeply offend their Pharaoh, not appease him?” Suetonius asked.
“Only, gentlemen, if the crime was ascribed to them,” the woman with the white painted features assured. “Perhaps the perpetrators, if this indeed is what has occurred, have performed some masterly magic in covering their tracks?”
“What advantage would provoke them to such daring?” Clarus interjected. “Cui bono, who benefits?”
Perenna smiled limply.
“Perhaps the drowning sacrifice of such a lofty yet disposable member of the Court would give Great Caesar reason to declare this place the appropriate site for Hadrianopolis, his new city in Middle Egypt? I am sure you have heard of this project?” Perenna proposed. “Such a sacrifice sanctifies this place in the eyes of the natives, which gives it enhanced value.” She continued in a conspiratorial vein.
“And if Hadrianopolis was established here at the east bank opposite the stamping ground of Amun’s opponent sects at Hermopolis, then the priests of Amun here would greatly benefit from Caesar’s new city. Pachrates has been at Caesar’s side on the planning of the project for months. He may have recommended the efficacy of such an sacrifice?”
“Do you suggest Hadrian was party to a conspiracy to kill the Bithynian?! Do you accuse Caesar of murder?!” Clarus uttered with a rising flush.
“Indeed no. Great Caesar need have no knowledge of such a plot,” she offered calmly.
Both Suetonius and Clarus sensed this unconventional woman was toying with them.
“Once again, where were you at the time of the boy’s death?” Clarus demanded.
“As I have said, gentlemen, on the night of the young man’s death I was secure in my chamber here at The Alexandros performing preliminary rites for the Festival of Isis. Isis is celebrated at Rome too. Isis has become a feature of our cult as much as it has with all women of the Empire,” she replied. “We too honor Isis and the resurrection of Osiris. Our rites are lengthy.”
“Do you have witnesses to this, my lady?” Suetonius enquired. “We’ve been told your protector, the Prefect Governor, was enjoying his pleasures elsewhere that night.”
Anna Perenna thoughtfully considered her response.
“Indeed, gentlemen, I possess witnesses. My assigned bodyguard was on my watch at The Alexandros throughout the night,” she offered.
“And those officers were …?” Clarus asked.
“The captain of my guard can vouchsafe for me, gentlemen. He is known to you. The Alexandrian Praetorian, Centurion Quintus Urbicus of Numidia,” she responded. “I am told he and his patrol have since been allocated to your service?”
“They have indeed, madam,” Clarus confirmed.
“Then you will know he is a witness of the highest credibility.”
Suetonius offered a new thought.
“Madam, you say Antinous was a lofty yet disposable member of the Court. In what way was the young man disposable?” the Special Inspector asked.
“Why, as charming as the lad may have been, his usefulness to Caesar had expired. He knew this himself, too. He was no longer Caesar’s closest intimate. At least, this is what he told me,” Perenna confided. “It was one of the issues for him seeking my services.”
“He told you this? What other issues were there?” Suetonius queried.
“Well, his future was one. There was his other relationship. And Caesar’s health too. There were several things of great concern to him,” she revealed.
The group of four were startled.
“His other relationship?! We are under the impression the boy was utterly faithful to his long-term erastes?”
“Gentlemen, since Caesar put the fellow aside at Alexandria many weeks ago the lad has found solace in another’s bosom. Surely you appreciate he was attractive to many at Court? There is no shortage of suitors,” she responded breezily.
“Who? Who?” Clarus demanded.
“I’m afraid he didn’t reveal a name to me, sirs,” she said. “But I can imagine it would be easily expected of so appealing a fellow.”
“What too do you mean by Caesar’s health?” Suetonius queried.
“There are many at Court who express concern about Hadrian’s coughing bouts. They are no longer a mere nuisance to him. They are known to draw blood from his chest,” Perenna stated confidently. “His young consort was troubled by this circumstance and hoped someone such as I would have a herb or decoction to treat such ailments. But this is a physician’s art, not a priestess of Anna Perenna. We concentrate on fertility, romance, beauty, and divination, not sickness.”
“Tell me, madam, you use your name objectively in the third person? Why is this so?” Suetonius queried.
The tall woman faced him blankly for a few moments. She cleared her throat before responding while Suetonius looked intently at the brightly colored gem upon a finger of her right hand. He felt the gemstone reminded him of something or someone. It was familiar.
“The name Anna Perenna, good sirs, is as much a title as a personal name. All senior priestesses of the cult of Anna Perenna are named Anna Perenna. I am Anna Perenna at Alexandria. My teacher and leader at Rome is Anna Perenna at Rome. Two others are elsewhere in the Empire,” the pockmarked matron clarified pertly. “But each of us is guided by the invocation ‘for leave to live in and through the year to our liking’. It is our motto.”
She returned to silence.
“Then you have a previous name and family after all? Before you became Anna Perenna, that is?”
“No that I recall, sir. Since childhood I have always been Anna to my priestly community at Rome. I have been raised to receive and enact the hallowed duties of an Anna Perenna,” she explained. “The priestesses adopt orphans and out-of-wedlock infants of good family to train them in this manner, unless they prove unsuitable to the task. I was eminently suitable.”
“Then you cannot throw any light at all on the death of the Bithynian, madam?” Suetonius now finalized his line of questioning.
“Not I, Inspector. Perhaps the wizard Pachrates can cast such light as you may require,” she offered. A sense of remoteness appeared in her eyes. She continued.
“I am told we have been instructed by Caesar to attend the reception platform before his chambers an hour ahead of dawn on tomorrow’s Third Day?
The third day of The Isia begins the days of celebration, the day when Osiris is restored to life in Isis’s arms after his journey in the Underworld. Seth and evil are defeated. Life is restored to this land and its Pharaoh. It is an apotheosis. Caesar is assemblin
g his key advisors and colleagues for this dawn’s arrival.”
“Life is restored to its Pharaoh, did you say?” Suetonius queried.
“This is what these people believe in this land,” Perenna claimed.
“We too are obliged to attend the dawn assembly,” Clarus interjected, “so we’d better get a move on with our interviews. Time is passing.”
Suetonius was reluctant to depart. He was not entirely satisfied with the woman’s testimony. He also wondered where he had previously seen a striking ring similar to the one on the priestess’s hand.
CHAPTER 23
“Well what do we make of her?” Suetonius asked the others. “She’s a very cool lady, despite the afflictions beneath the pastes and the kohl.?”
The biographer scanned his three companions for a response. They had alighted from a gondola ferrying their return to shore from The Alexandros.
The runabout to the Governor’s barque was an elegant vessel whose single sail was emblazoned with the Governor’s symbol of an Alexandrine eight-pointed golden star upon a field of sky blue. A wharf patrol in similar colors carefully recorded the group of four’s return from The Alexandros. Their return was inscribed in the patrol’s papyrus list of movements to-and-fro from the riverside jetty. Suetonius noted this clerical diligence, but had other things on his mind.
“Surisca, my dear, from a woman’s perspective do you have an opinion of this Grandmother of Time?”
The Syri entertainer held her own counsel momentarily.
“Well, what did you think?” he pressured again. “Don’t be shy, my dear, we’ve come to value your views.”
“This lady is a dissembler, Master. She is lying to you, I’d say,” Surisca quietly offered.
“Lying? A liar? In what way, Surisca? What makes you think so?”
“It’s my intuition, Master. A woman senses these things. She often knows when another woman is hiding a truth,” was the young woman’s reply. “There’s something amiss with the Lady Priestess in my view, my lords.”
Clarus and Suetonius paused in suspended agreement to the statement. Strabon now interrupted.
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