“Do you have an example?”
“Yes. Antinous possessed a refined sense of obligation. Perhaps it’s a Greek thing,” the huntsman supposed. “A favor performed for him obliged he return the favor in kind. Now we know the ethic of mutual obligation is an admirable lubricant to interaction among equals, yet in exchanges between unequals it may become onerous to those who are lesser equipped.
Antinous, to his credit, aimed always to respond to favors with parity. He was in no man’s debt. Nevertheless, the lad was not Great Caesar and didn’t possess the powers or resources to respond to his erastes’ gestures in like or kind.
If Hadrian offered his Favorite some gesture of regard, it was not always easy for the younger man to match a return gesture, despite his eagerness to do so. Perhaps Caesar felt the gestures of the boudoir, or even simple companionship, were sufficient recompense? However there was one particular occasion where a reciprocal gesture would have been problematic for the Bithynian.”
“And what was that?” Suetonius asked.
“It was the recent lion hunt in the western desert beyond Alexandria. It occurred almost two months ago.
The previous week Hadrian had announced to his inner circle while visiting Alexander’s tomb in the centre of that city how the time had arrived for Caesar and Antinous to relinquish their respective roles as erastes and eromenos. Antinous must surely have known the relationship was overdue for dissolution, public decency demanded it. For the thing to have continued would have had people talking. Yet Antinous was obviously thunderstruck by the announcement.
Then a week later a team of the Companions including Antinous, Lysias, and myself were summoned by Caesar to join him in hunting a feral lion, a giant man-eater, which had been terrorizing villages and farmers on the desert road beyond Siwa Oasis. It had killed several farm workers and quite a few animals. It had shut down travel on the road.
The beast was old and dying, but Hadrian wished to show the fickle citizens of Alexandria how his sheer presence provided security in the Roman way against nature’s wildness. Because of its age the brute was to be killed, not captured for arena games.
Well, to cut a long story short, Caesar himself courageously spearheaded the attack at its lair, but his first strike seemed to miss its mark.
I assure you, Hadrian rarely misses a kill. Very, very rarely indeed, gentlemen. To my eye, Hadrian intentionally missed the strike so that the second in line, our brave young ephebe, could make his play.
An enraged old lion is not an easy target, and to miss a strike can be fatal. The lion had sufficient energy to anticipate its next attacker, Antinous. It brought down the lad’s charger. The horse fell on top of its rider to hurt and imperil Antious pinioned underneath. If Hadrian hadn’t circled swiftly for a third strike, which was his intended strategy I suspect, I think neither Antinous nor his horse would have survived.
The lion was destroyed by Caesar’s decisive javelin strike. But for some moments our hearts were in our mouths,” Julianus recollected.
“How does this meet your comment about reciprocal gesture?” Clarus asked.
“Well, having earlier informed the Bithynian how their relationship must expire, and having so obviously saved the boy and his horse from the lion, Antinous was then caught in his obligation conundrum. To be saved from death by Great Caesar is no small matter. Such a debt is enormous.
Despite the sporty bonhomie of the hunt, Hadrian is no ordinary man, even to his chosen Favorite. And Caesar made sure Antinous knew it that night around the desert campfires shared by the hunt team. I perceived a degree of reluctance in Hadrian’s manner about the dissolution of the relationship, as though he was of two minds about it.
I suspect this situation put thoughts in the young man’s mind, if I’m not mistaken, thoughts which may have led to his demise,” the quaestor concluded
“Is that all? This seems an unlikely motive for a drowning, my lord, if you forgive my skepticism,” Clarus offered with his usual lack of subtlety.
“There’s more, of course. But your scribe must cease recording for the moment,” Julianus intimated. Clarus was about to object to this request when Suetonius waved to Strabon to lay down his stylus. Clarus desisted.
“What more, Senator?” the biographer enquired.
“The matter of the cough. Caesar’s cough. It does not dispel. It grows. There are some who are concerned about Caesar’s health,” Julianus confided. “This is neither sedition nor treason; it’s a justifiable concern about Hadrian the man, our friend, not Caesar the Princeps. His intimates worry a great deal about this, Antinous most of all I suspect.”
“So what can a dismissed eromenos do about this? He is no physician, dream-reader, exorcist, or magician,” Suetonius queried.
“No, but his interest in magicians, spells, and the more arcane healing arts seem high in his mind these days. I’ve been witness to many conversations about the skills of those mad Egyptian theurgists who claim to perform healing magic,” the quaestor commented. “Mind you, Antinous and his Bithynian race seem to be disposed to such things by their passion for their deity Apollo, Healer of Heaven, and his son Asclepius, god of healing. It’s in their bloodstream.”
“So you believe Antinous has given himself up to some sort of sorcery?” Clarus asked.
“No, senator, not sorcery, but some way to help restore his erastes’ health and longevity. Precisely what or how, I’m not sure,” Julianus resolved, “it’s pure supposition. I wish he had talked about it.”
“Perhaps you talk too loosely, Salvius Julianus?” Clarus interjected, but Julianus was on a roll.
“Then, gentlemen, there is the matter of Caesar’s bedroom tastes. But I won’t pursue that line of enquiry too far. That knowledge dies with the boy,” the quaestor offered evasively.
“Enough!” Clarus demanded. “This is sedition! Their bedroom activities are their own affair. You are too forthright in your speculations, Senator Quaestor! I do not believe our Caesar has engaged in treachery with his Favorite.”
“Then it seems we indeed agree, gentlemen?” the legalist countered. “My point is that I too believe none of these things. Instead, I look at the humanity of the relationship and see an attraction between the man and the emperor which sketches a different scenario entirely.”
“How has this influenced Antinous’s death? That’s why we’re here today, senator,” Suetonius reminded his colleague. Julianus leant forward closer to his inquisitors.
“I have enjoyed many conversations and much wine with the charming youth around campfires when on Caesar’s hunts, and he’s no fool I assure you. So to my eye there have been several intersecting lines of thought affecting Antinous’s actions. Firstly, he has spent five years centered in a political climate where direct imperial action is seen to change the world around him. He sees how considered action can achieve intended results.
Secondly, he is driven to enact our philosopher Epictetus’s dictum of it’s up to him! No one will do our life’s work for us. We have to do it ourselves. These notions have shaped his worldview.”
“Meaning?” Clarus asked.
“I believe Antinous has taken it upon himself to take direct action in history, and to fulfill his goals on his own initiative, not via his erastes’ endowment,” the quaestor proposed conclusively. “I sense Antinous may have constructed his own death to achieve some eternal benefit for his companion, his Princeps. His motive is his likely to be his affection for our Princeps.”
Suetonius, Clarus, Strabon, and Surisca looked to each other momentarily.
“What could that benefit be?” both Suetonius and Clarus asked together.
“Perhaps I can introduce you to someone who may know,” Julianus offered.
“Pray do,” Suetonius instructed in increasing wonder.
Julianus put aside his nibbled dates and goblet of wine, rose from his couch, and strode to one of the curtained portals of the marquee to the garden terrace. He carefully drew aside the beaded dr
ape veiling an inner vestibule beyond. Basked in the soft glow of the interior chamber, a slender female figure stood demurely waiting.
“Thais of Cyrene, freedwoman of the household of Antinous of Bithynia, please join me and the gentlemen here,” Julianus requested.
CHAPTER 26
“Who am I, you ask, kind sirs? I am Thais of Cyrene, a freedwoman whose manumission is registered at Rome. I am no longer a slave,” the pert young woman with the brightly intelligent eyes announced in crisp Palatine Latin.
“My master Antinous declared my freedom by vindicta two years ago in a public court at Rome. It was notarized under the auspices of the quaestor, Salvius Julianus. So for the past two years I have been a freedwoman in the clientela of Antinous of Bithynia.”
Her shining white eyes were saddened by tears. “I travel with the Imperial Household under his and Caesar’s protection.”
“Tell us of your fealty prior to manumission,” the Special Inspector requested.
“Good sir, I am the only daughter of Lais of Canopus, born at Cyrene in Cyrenaica in the thirteenth year of Caesar Trajan. My mother and I were both registered in the quinquennial census at Cyrenaica as the property of the Proconsul Legate of the senatorial province of Cyrenaica-Crete. I was born as property of the Legate’s household at Cyrene. I am twenty years of age and my mother is deceased.”
Suetonius and Clarus were astonished at the young girl’s sudden appearance at the Companions’ compound, while Julianus enjoyed their visible surprise. Suetonius continued questioning.
“Tell us, Thais of Cyrene. You are saying to us your mother Lais was of the slave class?”
“Indeed I do, sir. Prior to my birth my mother had been a dancer at the Canopus entertainment district on the coast of the Delta beyond Alexandria. She was acquired by the Proconsul Legate at Cyrene as a concubine during a recreational visit to Canopus. She travelled to join his household at Cyrene on the Legate’s return. I was born only months later,” she added breezily. “My mother Lais was perceived to be a great beauty. Her purchase from her masters was at great price.”
Suetonius glanced across to Surisca, who was near the same age and had experienced a similar style of life, but who kept her eyes lowered during the young girl’s testimony.
“Um, ah ..” Suetonius burbled with a self-conscious degree of prurience, “did you too follow in your mother’s profession as an entertainer, my dear?”
“No, sir, no. I was secluded in the traditional way to protect my virginity for marriage. I was raised in the Legate’s household as a daughter of the family and educated accordingly. The Legate’s wife, my Roman mistress, had borne four children to her husband of which only one son had survived childhood. He was named Aulus. I think I may have been welcomed as a daughter to the family in the light of their other losses.
Also, though my birth-mother taught me dancing and musical skills, I was specially trained in the administration of a noble household by my owner’s wife. I was taught to read and write in Latin, common Greek, and Aramaic under tutors in the company of the Legate’s son Aulus. Aulus was two years older than I, but it transpired I was a better student than the Legate’s son.”
“What happened then?” Suetonius enquired, entranced by this history.
“I remained in service with the Legate’s wife at Cyrene until my fourteenth year, when she resolved I should find a master or mistress elsewhere. My mother Lais had died of a canker of the bosom in my tenth year despite the very best medical attention from the Legate’s personal physician. This left me as an orphan who remained the property of the Legate.
My mistress, through her husband, arranged for my transfer to the slave emporium at Delos Island in the Aegean where the better class of bonded people are traded. My price was to be subsidized to ensure I located a superior quality of master or mistress, and not a dealer in virgins or entertainers,” she revealed with some pride.
“You were still a virgin you say?” Suetonius enquired, perhaps with a little too much interest.
“Indeed, sir,” Thais declared. “Perhaps this was an issue, I suspect, because my mistress was concerned either her husband the Legate, or more likely her son Aulus, had become too fond of me.”
Thais’s responses were without any evident conceit.
“In truth, sirs, Aulus and I had become very close at the time. Very close. He was a very beautiful young man of great quality,” she murmured wistfully.
“Why didn’t the Legate simply give you to Aulus as his body servant and companion?” Clarus proposed. “He was entitled to do so.”
“There were impediments to such an arrangement,” Thais offered hesitantly. “One was Aulus wished me to be married to him. His mother, my mistress, would not permit this.”
“Then we must assume from what you say, Thais of Cyrene, that the Proconsul Legate of the province would have been your father and his son Aulus was likely to be your half-brother?” Suetonius put to her plainly. “Inter-marriage between such closely related may not be wise.”
“Why didn’t the Legate -- if I’m not mistaken it was Calpurnius Flaccus, the senator and son of the renown rhetorician, yes?,” Clarus interjected speculatively, “simply give you your freedom, as is his right as your owner?”
Thais was thoughtful for a moment without commenting upon the Flaccus speculation.
“I think the household was concerned I would then have no protector, no paterfamilias, if I was freed, being utterly orphaned,” she responded. “Yet they did not wish me married either, despite already being a year or two beyond the accepted age for betrothal.”
“So instead they resolved to send you away to a household of quality?” Suetonius contributed. “I imagine your Aulus was distressed? Even heartbroken?”
Thais appeared distracted for a few moments before moving on without responding to the question.
“At Delos I was acquired by an agent of the Imperial Household due to my education and language skills,” the dainty young lady continued solemnly. “Then on Great Caesar’s instruction the Household steward supplied me to Antinous as his teacher of conversational Latin and instructor in Palatine comportment. This was over four years ago at Nicomedia during Caesar’s tour of the provinces.”
“I see, you were to be his sleep-in language teacher?” Clarus implied teasingly. Clarus was not one to miss a wry, if vulgar, observation.
“But what now that this patron, Antinous, too has died?” Clarus searched.
“Antinous has made suitable provision for this,” Julianus offered enigmatically.
Suetonius looked to Thais to see how she responded to these queries, only to perceive tears had formed almost imperceptibly at the corners of her eyes. Slowly, gradually, her eyes were welling. The group was silenced by this visible human sentiment. Surisca drew to Thais’s side and gently took her hands in her own. Thais did not resist.
“Suitable provision? What sort of provision?” Suetonius continued.
“My patron and good friend Antinous has endowed me with sufficient resources to be independent of his patronage,” the Cyrene offered as she wiped her eyes. She fell silent.
Julianus spoke up to confirm this enigmatic statement.
“On the day before his death Antinous furnished Thais with sufficient gold coins, precious objects, and the ownership deed to a residence at Athens to support her in her future life. This endowment was of considerable substance, and very adequate to her needs. Her trove is secured against theft or misadventure under my personal seal, and duly recorded by documents drawn by Antinous on the day,” the quaestor stated. “But we had no idea at the time that Antinous would be dead within that very same day.”
“So in the months before the Bithynian’s death,” Clarus legalistically clarified, “he gave this woman, Thais, her freedom by manumission, and followed this with a large endowment to ensure her financial independence? And he finalized these legalities the very day prior to his own death?”
“Indeed,” Julianus agreed.
“What’s going on here? I find this very suspicious, or at least unlikely?” Clarus labored the obvious. “Surely we see cui bono in operation here! Who has benefited from Antinous’s death? We begin to see, perhaps.”
Suetonius interrupted him.
“Senator, remember Arrian’s report to us of the boy’s withdrawal of his personal wealth from safekeeping. Recall too the report of the lad’s reputed liaison in an earlier interview…,” Suetonius murmured, casting a raised eyebrow at the young Cyrene.
“Reputed liaison?” the senator responded. “Oh. I see. Tell us Thais of Cyrene, is it true you have been an intimate companion of the deceased, Antinous of Bithynia?” Clarus asked forthrightly. “In fact you have been his secret paramour?”
Everyone’s eyes turned to Thais.
“Intimate companion? Paramour?” she uttered with some dismay. “Fine sirs, despite my own feelings about my wonderful master, and despite the many occasions when such sentiments could easily have arisen, not once in five years did Antinous impose upon my person in an intimate or amorous manner.
While all those around us at Court shared affairs of the heart and licentious behavior, Antinous and I remained entirely chaste. He was devoted solely to his erastes. It was their compact. Even in the two years since my manumission, we have maintained sober relations. That is, well, until very recently,” she said, her voice trailing away to a whisper.
“Until recently?”
“Yes. In fact until only weeks ago at Alexandria.” The Cyrene was almost inaudible.
“Explain, please.”
“Sirs, Antinous of Bithynia was Caesar’s Favorite. For five years Antinous was an eromenos to Caesar’s erastes. Antinous fulfilled this role according to the accepted custom still celebrated in the East by many men of the nobility. He sought no other companionship, even though many offered their enticements to him. Many, I assure you,” Thais recounted. “ I and his friend Lysias are witness to this fact.”
“By Jupiter, what is it the others wanted from this youth?” Clarus asked disingenuously. “Are well-formed features so utterly tantalizing?”
The Hadrian Enigma - A Forbidden History Page 41