"As it was told to me by the two lads, on that sea journey's seventh day Arrian's freighter roiled past the temple-topped promontory of Cape Sunium south of Athens and slew across the Bay of Salamis towards the city. Antinous's party was sailing to Piraeus, Athens' major harbor. This approach reveals the distant metropolis as a strip of structures glistening brightly in the sunlight.
From the deck of their ship plowing through the Aegean chop it seemed to Antinous, Lysias, and Thais how their destination was the knobby line of white buildings lining the coastline. As The Bithynian drew closer, this mere sliver transformed into a spectacle of high-pillared temples and shrines in stone and marble, lofty castellated defensive towers, or meandering walls and courtyards, warehouses, private villas, and tenements. Our two provincials had never seen such a panoply of urban structures before. Athens is far larger than Nicomedia.
Equally impressive were the number of vessels and fishing craft thronging the city's two harbors. An occasional sturdy Roman war trireme braced the sea too, with their rows of oars sweeping in rhythmic unison attacking the waves. A hundred other vessels were anchored at the shore's moorings. All this was very new to them.
However, as The Bithynian's captain pointed out, the buildings they had been viewing were merely Athens' waterfront suburb of Piraeus. The metropolis itself was several miles inland from the port. Later, this then proved to be an even more spectacular vision. After a lifetime's ambition they were at last to arrive at the very heart of their Hellene world, the city of Athens.
Once berthed, they transferred their personal baggage to an oxen wagon and trundled inland to the great city awaiting them. It was the most exciting event of their lives, they said.
As they drew closer to its walls and gates, the city's presence proclaimed itself by impacting on their nostrils. As any large city is prone, the comforting odors of potter's kilns, baker's ovens, and a multitude of family hearths melded contrastingly with the fetid sweetness of sewer residues, tanner's or fuller's soaks, public latrines, plus the fragrance of the conical pines of Achaea. All joined to proclaim the city's human, animal, and industrial immensity. Perhaps a quarter of a million people live in this legendary city, they realized. Athens was truly a large metropolis.
To strangers, this ripeness of atmosphere is matched by a similarly earthy visual display. Garish effigies of the randy god Priapus adorn cottages and villas. His prodigiously erect phallus protects against the Evil Eye and threatens a likely rude fate for unwanted trespassers. Wittily obscene graffiti, crude insults, and lewd limericks litter all vacant wall spaces with droll texts, comic scenes, and bawdy pictures. Their jovial vulgarity offers few concessions to a polite sensibility. Athens conveys the impression, they realized, of being a city happily ruled by rampant sex in its many differing varieties or configurations. Each was more comical than the last, aiming to ward off malign spiritual influences while providing pleasing gaiety to the heart.
On their journey through the lanes to the Agora market-place their wagon trundled past a forest of statues of Olympian gods, ancient philosophers, hardy warriors, or victorious athletes frozen dramatically in mid-action. Wall niches holding devotional figures, shrines, chapels, sanctuaries, and pillared temples graced street corners and lane intersections. The debris of candle stubs, exhausted lamps, and crumbled shards inscribed with petitions to the Fates attested to the piety of the citizens in praising their gods and their heroes.
Antinous spied the side-by-side statues of the city's much admired tyrant-killers Harmodius and Aristogiton, an eromenos and his erastes of six centuries earlier, as the wagon ambled through the Agora gateway. These ancient bronzes had been abducted to Rome by the city's conqueror Sulla two hundred years ago, but had been recently restored to the Agora on Hadrian's command. Hadrian's respect for all things Greek earned him the favor of the city's voluble population.
First impressions can be persuasive. Antinous and Lysias, guided by Thais's perceptive eye, noted how Athenians dressed themselves with more refinement than Bithynians. Except for the rabble of slaves who throng the narrow lanes, mature Athenian citizens and their matrons wore finer jewelry and fancier fabrics in brighter dyes or weaves than worn by elders at Bithynia. Even the men of Athens seemed to be fashion conscious. Respectable women, however, were fully veiled from view behind gauzes.
There were far more women in the streets going about their business than one would see at Nicomedia, let alone in conservative regional Claudiopolis. Some seemed to be without a male guardian or a watchful slave, and were garbed in a less veiled manner than other citizens.
Unaccompanied females in public are perceived a provocation at Claudiopolis. It could lead to damaged reputation, public insult, or worse. Athens seemed more relaxed with its women.
The trio even spied a few young girls of marriageable age among the throng without hair coverings to proclaim their maidenly modesty. Perhaps they were foreigners, courtesans, or common street harlots? It seemed the women of Athens were less secluded and more open to public life than their equals in the provinces, yet they also noted how women of the elites traveled in well-guarded litters carefully screened from prying eyes.
Younger males were dressed in the regular Greek chiton tunic and himation swathe, but the fabrics looked of an unusually finer weave and pleating. Even in cool March their wools or linens seemed to be weighted for summer.
They observed, too, how men wore tunics tailored to expose greater areas of body flesh. These were shorter at the thigh and tighter at the hip than would be consider decorous at Polis, and showed more of the limbs or chest line. Their hair, too, was trimmed shorter than the tousled mops and long coils worn by meirakia young men such as Antinous and Lysias at Bithynia. Their overall presentation seemed aimed to accent their comeliness.
The lads raised an eyebrow at the many men who wore jewelry of varied richness similar to their womenfolk. Rings, bracelets, armbands, earrings, neck chains and decorative collars were common. These were thought decadent at Claudiopolis. It may proclaim the demeanor of a cinaedus at Bithynia, one who seeks to attract admirers.
Quite a few such people are visible in Athens. Many younger men even painted underlines of kohl around their eyes to enhance their appearance, or powdered their faces to display a fairer complexion. Antinous and Lysias were uncertain of the seemliness of such touches, so Thais did not encourage them.
It became evident many upper-class youths were splashed with expensive perfumes from the East, which too would be unseemly in Bithynia's hinterland. Other young Athenians walked hand-in-hand with glamorously-attired ladies who were evidently not their wives but hired concubines or courtesans. Nicomedia, of course, also displays this custom due to the large numbers of sex workers who service transient sailors from around the Middle Sea.
Some Athenian youths walked similarly with male friends, possibly indicating an amorous liaison or at least an eromenos/erastes relationship, but this was so at Bithynia too.
Foreign visitors to Athens register their arrival with their national proxenos to record the purpose of their journey for the civil authorities. The current proxenos for Bithynia was Tiberius Claudius Atticus Herodes, known to all as Herodes Atticus. Besides being Athens' richest man, he was a major customer of Bithynian produce at Achaea.
However the actual welcoming officer was Herodes Atticus's eldest son, an Athenian whose name was Lucius but who too was known as Herodes Atticus.
Herodes the Younger was a striking looking and well-dressed Athenian in his mid-twenties. The group of three saw how he noted the arriving party with inordinate interest. Lysias told me some time later he sensed Herodes' eyes sizing him up intently, and he wondered at the time at his motive.
At the proxenos' office they recognized Senator Arrian with a retinue of clients, stewards, and guards. Arrian strode briskly to them as their details were being recorded by the younger Herodes.
'Welcome to Athens, masters Antinous and Lysias. On behalf of Imperator Caesar Hadrian -- and myself too, of course -- I extend greetings to you. We ourselves have been at Athens for the past week," he said. "The springtime festivities here are very lively.'
The boys bowed respectfully in acknowledgement and saluted. Arrian continued.
'And besides his personal welcome, Caesar has extended an invitation to you. You are to attend Caesar's entourage at the opening ceremony of the Festival of the Great Dionysia tomorrow, the tenth day of the month of Elaphebolion. Tomorrow's event honors seven hundred years of Athenian drama.
The day's itinerary includes a ceremonial procession of citizens through the city to the Temple of Dionysus on the slope of the Acropolis. After a rite of sacrifice before the image of the god, a performance of a play from the classic repertoire is to be sung at the nearby Theater of Dionysus. Thousands of the city's citizens will attend.
This will be followed in the evening by a public banquet and masked revel for all Athenians, at Caesar's expense. Each of these events is to include you both,' Arrian said with some pleasure at watching the youths' faces light up at such an attractive invitation.
'It will be our great honor to attend, my lord,' Antinous offered cheerily.
'Good. Then I will take my leave now,' Arrian continued, 'but I also wish you to join me again for private discussion this very afternoon. You are available, yes?'
This extra invitation was extended with a faintly conspiratorial air. It sounded more like a command than a invitation, the boys told me later.
'I have matters to discuss with you of some sensitivity. I bathe daily in Athens at Hadrian's New Baths erected beside the construction site of the Temple of Olympian Zeus,' Arrian said. 'I retire to the Baths each afternoon for cleansing, exercise, and reflection. Occasionally Hadrian and I do so together. It's a necessary luxury in the summer climate here. Join me today at three hours after high sun to clean up after your long journey. Mention my name at the entrance hall and you'll be guided to my private tepidarium so we can talk in peace.
Before the lads had time to bow or salute Arrian had swept away followed by his retinue.
'We will attend you there at three, sir!' Antinous called after the disappearing figure.
Thais took razor-sharp shears from the kitchen stores to hack-chop the boys' tousled heads of hair into manes of a more fashionable length. The two wished to have a similar style to the local ephebes they had seen in the streets of Athens, yet still retain a length which indicated their meirakion young adult status.
Antinous and Lysias saw how the color had returned to Thais's complexion after the sea journey, indicating she was feeling much improved in health. The rolling, swaying, lurching sea journey had taken its toll on the Cyrene's usual affability. Antinous's attentions to her during her five indisposed days had made her sea nausea bearable. But now that she was on steady land again she had returned to her usual good temper.
Once settled into their hired villa in the upper-class ward of Melite close by the Acropolis slope, the two asked Thais to trim their hair prior to the bath-house appointment with Arrian. Thais has a definite gift for anything to do with fashion, so the youngsters felt quite up-to-date and cosmopolitan by the time she had shag-cut their coiling manes into a more-controlled Athenian style. Gone were the rustic locks of provincial youths. Both boys squeaked with delight when they checked their reflection on the stilled surface of the villa's courtyard fish pond.
It was then time to find their way through the city's narrow lanes around the eastern edge of the Acropolis slopes to locate Hadrian's Baths in the new Roman quarter of the city. An opportunity to bathe at a proper bath-house, sweat in a hot room, receive a strigil's oiled cleansing, take a massage, dunk in further pools, and become thoroughly refreshed was indeed a civilized comfort. At the same time the enigma of Arrian's summons might become evident."
Geta rested for a few moments to take a sip of wine. His audience of investigators was growing impatient.
"What is the importance of all this in identifying enemies of Antinous, Dacian?" Clarus interjected. "Do we need to know the minutiae of their daily toilet too?"
"Allow me to reveal what I know, gentlemen. It comes from diverse sources of value," Geta explained. "It will interest you, I am sure." He continued his testimony.
"The older man of the three slung another dipper of water across his head and shoulders. Its splashes sprayed across all three figures seated around the marbled well of the bathhouse sodatorium.
'Welcome, gentlemen, to your engagement in life,' Arrian declared to his two young companions. He was attired in naught but his single senator's ring on one finger.
Senator Lucius Flavius Arrianus Xenophon, as he is known at Rome, leaned languidly on the water-splashed marbles to relax in the chamber's muggy heat. The gloom of the bath-house cavern was sliced by a thin shaft of sunlight streaking through the simmering haze from a high window's grille. A fug of steam infused with the odors of woody oils and fiery coals perfumed the air. In his private chamber at the best appointed baths in all the East, the Bithynian noble's pores sweated copiously. So too did that of his companions.
Seated on three sides of stepped slabs of porphyry, the naked men exuded rivulets of moisture across their bodies. Both boys acknowledged to themselves how this nobleman is an appealing figure of a fellow, despite his thinning head of hair and deepening facial creases. For a man in his early forties whose career is regarded as being as much a practicing historian, a major trading entrepreneur, and civic councilor, as well as a commander of the military and a senator of Rome, his muscle tone was in fine shape.
Arrian looked over the two naked youths beside him in the manner of an athlete before a wrestling match or perhaps a gladiator confronting an untested combatant.
'You realize, Antinous, your being here is no accident? You have been on a path to this city and this present company for many months before you yourself knew of its possibility.'
Antinous and Lysias listened in attentive silence. They sweated profusely and splashed themselves with ladles of extra water while wondering where this bath-house conversation was likely to lead.
'You, my young friend, have been carefully selected from a variety of candidates to enter the life of our Caesar. Ultimately of course it was he, Caesar, who made the final choice, but there were many forces at work to direct his attentions to someone like you. Hadrian has been studiously assessing people across his Empire, and of course he has surveyed the possibilities at Rome itself.
Your journey to this place and your association with the Imperial Household began several years ago, well before we even knew of your existence. It began with perceptions which friends of Caesar from the Greek East decided may be crucial to the survival of Roman Asia as an entity under Rome's beneficence,' Arrian offered.
'Roman Asia and Greece are the homelands of the peoples we know as Hellenes. Greece is not just a blood line, it is a state of mind shared across the wider Middle Sea by all peoples under the influence of Hellenic culture.
Since his accession nine years ago as Princeps, Caesar Hadrian has stabilized the Empire's boundaries, withdrawn from military adventures outside those boundaries, and laid the groundwork for the husbanding of wealth within the Empire. Some of this wealth will pay for the Legions who protect all the peoples of the Empire against invasion by barbarians, the remainder will be invested in Empire infrastructure and services.
Nevertheless, my Bithynian friends, I and many other nobles of Roman Asia are deeply concerned about the future of our eastern provinces. To the north and east of the Black Sea there are vast tribes of nomads of varying races who are shifting westwards from the Caucuses to our very borders.
They are tribes such as the Sarmatae, the Vandali, the Alans, or the Scythians, who repeatedly test our defenses and our patience. They may very soon threaten our security. These are not merely groups of herders wandering in search of seasonal pasture or thieving booty, they are migrations of whole races onto the fringe of our world.
The Senate at Rome does not yet fully perceives the extent of this threat. They do not engage in strategies to prepare for an inevitable response. But I have seen the invaders with my own eyes. That is why we are here today, we three.'
The two young men sat motionless, enthralled by this soldier's analysis of threats unknown to their experience. Arrian continued.
'We, the leading citizens of Roman Asia, pursue two things to secure our safety and our future in this dangerous, shifting world,' he propounded. 'We need sturdier defenses across our eastern frontiers to stop the barbarians, and we need sufficient fighters in place to annihilate them if they breach our borders. This will be a huge cost to Rome which our taxes and wealth can barely accommodate.'
Arrian paused to splash another dipper over his frame.
'To achieve these goals we need Caesar's and his Senate's continuing regard for our Hellene culture and our ways. It will require wealth, arms, manpower, and the will.
At this time Rome's surplus wealth is channeled to protect the north of the Empire at Germania. Also, much wealth is frittered away in providing frivolous pleasures to the city of Rome itself with its many unemployed plebs. This ratio must shift.
My project on behalf of our homeland, young sirs, is to foster eastern values in the mind of Rome's rulers. This includes using influences such as you, gentlemen, to promote Roman Asia's welfare in an intimately personal way to the highest echelons of the Imperium. Hadrian is the uttermost echelon, and he has shown his personal interest in you, Antinous.
Your forthcoming role, Antinous, as eromenos to Hadrian means our Caesar can be repeatedly made aware of the necessity for defensive protections at the Eastern frontier. He has the influence and power to persuade his senators, but he himself needs to be regularly persuaded too. This, Antinous, is the role your countrymen now expect of you. You are our frontline defense.
Secondly, the East needs at least two additional Legions to reinforce the existing two Legions based in Cappadocia to protect our borders. This initiative will be a costly investment in coin and manpower at a time when Roman armies no longer siphon wealth from newly conquered enemies to justify its conquests.
For five hundred years Rome has been annexing the land, wealth, and manpower of its neighbors piece-by-piece, but this expansion program is no longer tenable. The cost of the defense and supply-lines exceeds the value of the booty seized. It teaches us how even brute power has its limits.
But where do you, Antinous, fit into these matters, you ask? To be brief, my boy, you are shortly to become Caesar's personal connection to Roman Asia. Your proximity to him will repeatedly remind him of the importance of the culture he already greatly admires. This is your destiny, Antinous, and even yours too Lysias.'
Arrian paused to toss dippers of cooling water across his frame. He continued.
'Your selection, young man, followed wide enquiries among the landed classes to identify a freeborn candidate of a suitable quality, status, and ability for Caesar's interest.
For example you already know of Glaucon the Syri? He was the silver-voiced fellow who sang love songs at the celebration of your hunting kill at Nicomedia last October. Glaucon only lasted a month in Caesar's company despite his porcelain beauty and our every discreet encouragement to appeal to Caesar's tastes. But he was soon returned to his Damascus family crest-fallen and bitter, but also far wealthier than even his wildest dreams could imagine. Gold has its appeal for some, too. Not all contenders prize honor.'
Arrian paused to measure his effect upon his companions. Antinous and Lysias looked to each other questioningly. Arrian seemed satisfied and continued.
'Our conversation here, my friends, is to be confidential between us. It is not seditious or irregular, but it is sensitive and must be respected,' he said softly. 'It was our community's desire to provide great Caesar with an eromenos of a superior standard suited to his status. After scouring all the Aegean for a suitably mature meirakion and then discreetly wheeling these prospects into Caesar's company, only a single candidate of our collection met with his favor.
Caesar is a fickle aesthete, yet one with an educated eye and very perceptive insight. He knows good horseflesh when he sees it, but he also knows a good heart.
The choice proved to be you, Antinous, after he saw you and Lysias wrestling fiercely at the youth's games of Claudiopolis five months ago, plus subsequent events. Despite a dozen other eligible fellows on display naked in the dust that day, and despite one or two others being feathered later into the boar hunt at Nicomedia, it was you Antinous who eventually became the chosen one,' Arrian divulged with a faint smile. 'The rest you know.'
Antinous at last spoke. He had been digesting this information carefully.
'You say, my lord, that this is my life's destiny. If so, what am I supposed to do about it? I am here in Athens for my final education and continued training in weapons. Letters have passed between my father and various agents of the Imperial Household, yet I have no idea how to go about the project you have outlined?' he said. 'How am I to achieve such a unique goal?'
'Arrangements are already taking place which will take care of this issue,' Arrian replied enigmatically.
'But this does not answer my query, my lord," Antinous interjected. "Under what terms am I to be received by great Caesar? What steps should I take? I'm at a loss to know how to respond or what to do. I am no coquette or teasing courtesan with practiced wiles.'
'Do not worry, lad. As I said, certain matters are being prepared in readiness. Tomorrow you and Lysias should keep your eyes open and stay within Caesar's sight throughout the day's events. Especially, you should watch for anything odd or suspicious which appears in your field of vision,' the noble offered with puzzling vagueness, 'and respond appropriately. There have been rumors circulating, so be prepared for any surprise.'
Antinous and Lysias slopped further dippers of water over their heads. Arrian continued.
'But you should also realize, Antinous, how our Caesar currently has another young fellow gracing his company at Athens. To some degree you have competition.'
Both of the boys sat up briskly amid the lethargic heat, their energy restored.
'Competition? What do you mean by 'competition', sir?' Antinous asked with a hint of alarm. Arrian considered his words carefully.
'Well, my boy, for the past few weeks Caesar has been enjoying the company of his friend at Rome of recent years named Senator Lucius Ceionius Commodus. This senator is residing with Caesar at Athens not very far from your own villa.'
'Oh,' said Antinous, as he wondered at the import of this. 'Who is this man Commodus? Is he a Roman noble too?'
'Ah yes, he most certainly is. Commodus is descended from an ancient Etruscan family of the senatorial class. He is definitely a patrician. They are extremely wealthy and they are of the best blood. As a result Commodus has been raised with not just a silver spoon in his mouth but perhaps an entire golden service. He has very good political prospects. Yet from what I have seen of him he is quite spoiled and temperamental and given to extravagance. However I must admit he is also very good looking.'
'Was he an eromenos to Hadrian? I am told on good authority Caesar had not taken an eromenos previously.'
'No, Antinous. Hadrian did not display his friend as a formal partner. Commodus has simply hovered discreetly in the background or been out of sight altogether.
Antinous sat in stony silence for a few moments to digest this information. I suspect he began to wonder if Caesar was really a man of his word or not.
'Sir, is there not a law forbidding Romans to accost freeborn maidens or youths?'
'Yes, Antinous,' Arrian conceded, 'the ancient law known as the lex Scantinia with its objection to the offence of stuprum. It still remains respected among older Romans. However there have been no prosecutions for it for at least a hundred years. What people do between themselves in private, or what a Caesar may deign to venture in his majesty as Princeps, is another matter entirely.
People say Commodus might be adopted by Hadrian into his gens as his lawful son and prospective successor, just as Julius Caesar did with Gaius Octavius long ago. Octavius eventually assumed the title of Caesar Augustus. Nerva did likewise with Trajan. Yet though Commodus possesses the necessary bloodlines to be eligible, he doesn't possess the military experience or political influence, I'd say. The Legions barely know or respect him. They will count.
Yet we from the East suspect this prospect is being manipulated by forces at Rome who wish the succession to be securely finalized now Hadrian has entered mid-life and its inevitable health risks. An unresolved succession is a proven recipe for civil war when an emperor dies. A bloodbath can result, with totally unpredictable outcomes.
Also, the succession of Commodus would once again shift priorities and resources away from us in the east into the western sphere. We resist this strongly while the barbarians are at the door.'
'What then is your advice in this matter? I am not experienced in the stratagems of lovers, seducers, or courtesans. I am a plain speaking fellow from the provinces. What is your advice, sir?' Antinous asked somewhat plaintively.
'Love? Lovers!? What has love to do with it? Hadrian only wants to enjoy your pleasant company," Arrian retorted sharply. "Laughter and lust are your functions, my boy, perhaps coupled with a longing for the son he has never bred. Your role is to satisfy the call of Eros. You take his mind off the issues of state. So make the best of it, my boy, for all our sakes.'
Antinous grew impatient with this overly pragmatic philosophy.
'You must think very little of me, sir, if you think I am but a kept boy?" Antinous challenged daringly. "I am not for sale, my lord. I am protective of my honor, my arete.'
'Yes, yes, yes, lad, I acknowledge your quality," Arrian responded, realizing he had ruffled the lad's sensitivities. "But you are now entering a realm where everything and everyone are purchasable. Power is a commodity and it is for sale, usually at a high price in coin or blood.'
'But I possess few needs, my lord. I do not seek power or influence. I do not seek great wealth. So is there anything specific you can recommend to me?" Antinous persisted. "I'm not sufficiently experienced in courtly ways to determine a path forward."
Arrian paused to reflect for a moment. Then he looked fixedly at Antinous with a glinting knowingness in his eye. He smiled.
'Yes, there is one important thing. Perhaps it's how you have gotten this far so swiftly. Great Caesar is certainly smitten by your charms, young man. I have witnessed your effect upon his moods. Your physical grace has impacted upon his more earthy appetites, true, as has your sassiness, your daring, and your cool persona. You indeed possess the upper hand in this courtly dance, Antinous. But one thing is worth accenting to you here.
I wish to reveal to you an important matter. Listen carefully because I will tell it to you only once.
You must show your most winning features to him. Yes, display your youth; display your beauty; display your fine young muscles; display your smooth flesh; display your intelligence and most appealing attributes. Display too your impudence, your drive, and daring. But also, --'
Arrian's eyes started to drift slowly across Antinous's sweatily glistening frame, down its sculpted surfaces, and then low in the direction of his reproductive organs. Arrian was not being provocative, prurient, or suggestive; he was simply scanning the facts of Antinous's physicality. Yet his eyes lingered politely over the young man's adequately proportioned genitalia which now lay wetly shriveled in the sodatarium heat. His vision came to rest in a manner which seemed to silently, meaningfully, signal a message.
'-- be audacious, Antinous. Do the unexpected,' he concluded smoothly.
After a few moments Antinous and Lysias both perceived what this unspoken message may have been at precisely the same time," Geta added. "They turned to each other in sudden recognition but also in embarrassment. It was now evident why Arrian had chosen the nudity of a hot room at the Baths for his dissertation and its special clue to Caesar's tastes. He wished to make a particular point without it being too boldly articulated. Arrian continued.
'You possess certain attributes which may appeal to Hadrian, young man. Yes, display a possibility to him Commodus has never offered in the first place,' Arrian alluded obliquely. 'Commodus is renowned for his sexual appetite to the point of being considered an unrestrained cinaedus obsessed with sensuality. But I don't think his repertoire with his own gender is reputed to be especially dominant, if you catch my meaning? Not at all, in fact. So, Antinous, I suppose it was no accident Great Caesar personally checked your physical attributes at Nicomedia last year.'
Antinous blushed fully crimson despite his existing rosy hue of a hot-room flush. The cat was now out of the bag about who was witness to the event in the amphitheatre at Nicomedia. Lysias too now realized who the other observer had been shifting through the shadows. It had been Arrian.
'Among other things show him a possibility which may have agreed with him when he first observed your qualities, my boy. And do it shamelessly,' Arrian persisted, nodding casually in the direction of Antinous's crutch. 'Others have failed in this role perhaps because Hadrian is Caesar, which can be intimidating, while custom tends to object to the senior partner participating in this way. But custom is blind.
Do you get my drift, lad? But also be flexible, be versatile, be willing to shift according to his changing moods, be open to all possibilities. And yes, be willing to submit too. This is the Bithynian way, my friend.'
'I think I do get your drift,' Antinous murmured distractedly.
'Don't forget Antinous, to be Caesar's Companion is to be at the centre of the universe. It is to participate in works of great import. You enter history, young man. You become part of history. It's your life's destiny made concrete,' Arrian concluded. 'You must make of my advice what you will, and act according to your arete, your virtue. Praise be to Caesar!'
'To Caesar!' the boys echoed in unison. Both youngsters were thoughtful for some moments at this newest revelation. Then it was time for a cold plunge bath after stewing so long in the steamy heat.
Arrian led the trio from the private chamber to the vaulted public pools of the Baths. The marbled caverns echoed with two hundred bantering voices amid the splashy hubbub.
The hollow cacophony slowly diminished to furtive murmurs as they arrived. Much whispering tinged with gasps of admiration were accompanied by eager eyes sweeping the arcades as the three took their cooling plunge in the main pool.
This, coupled with the opaque message of the previous conversation, caused Antinous and Lysias to begin to wonder what they had gotten themselves into."
Geta paused momentarily as the team of investigators contemplated the implications of his story. Clarus was disconcerted by its revelations.
"Things soon became more complicated," Geta forwarded. "On the second day of the Great Dionysia, which I attended in my role as Caesar's master of ceremonies, certain developments occurred.
On their arrival at Caesar's villa at high sun, the two Bithynians were made welcome at the courtyard gate by the younger Herodes Atticus.
Herodes Junior had recently been awarded Roman senatorial rank and been appointed quaestor at the status level of inter amicos – a 'friend of the emperor' – a high honor for a Greek in his mid-twenties. Herodes invited the two youngsters to share in the company of his friends of a similar age awaiting the arrival of Hadrian and the officials of the Dionysia Festival from within the villa.
This mix of Greek and Roman young men seemed an agreeable group to the newcomers, even though they displayed standards of attire, comportment, and ornamentation at a level of wealth far beyond their own. Herodes explained how the entire assembly would soon be joining the public procession currently winding its way along the city's Sacred Way to the Acropolis.
At last clarions sounded and the Imperial party appeared from within the villa. It was led by Hadrian accompanied by notables including Arrian and Athenian officials in ceremonial attire. I too was in this retinue in my usual role as Hadrian's factotum.
Later I was told how Antinous and Lysias took special interest in the young patrician following close beside Hadrian. To their eyes he was a delicately chiseled, slender-waisted ephebe of pale complexion garbed in a fulsome Roman toga of blindingly white purity. It was striped with the scarlet blazon of a senator.
He wore a meticulously closely-trimmed beard of an unusually slender design. His head was a riot of voluminous curls dusted with sparkling glitter and skewered with elegant needles of silver filigree. He bore a diadem announcing his lofty status as a member of a noble family. His wrists and arms were adorned with bracelets of precious metals while bright jewels were affixed to each earlobe. Both hands displayed many antique rings on each finger and a prominent antique brooch adorned his shoulder. The fellow flourished hand gestures of great fluidity as he talked, accompanied by a jubilant manner with many calculated sardonic smiles and expressive eye gestures. His eyes were finely underlined in kohl accents which gave his features a distinctively feline appearance.
Even from their position some distance away in the courtyard the boys could detect the heady scent of an expensive Assyrian fragrance wafting from his direction. His age was somewhere in his twenties yet his bearing had the decidedly stately mode of a far older man. Members of the Roman patrician class definitely project an image of class superiority.
'My lord Herodes, please tell me who is that striking figure of a man behind Caesar?' Antinous whispered behind one hand. The Athenian acknowledged his companion's comment on the senator's demeanor as being 'striking'.
'Why, Antinous, it is Senator Commodus. He's a close friend of Caesar,' was the reply in a restrained whisper. 'He arrived from Rome recently and is residing at Caesar's villa.'
I suppose in the eyes of Antinous and Lysias the young senator was a revealing exponent of the current high-fashion at Rome. The senator displayed it with the studied, urbane, supercilious confidence seemingly ingrained in Rome's patrician class.
Hadrian did not wear a toga nor his Imperator's military cuirass, but was dressed in Greek attire. Both his tunic and mantle, however, were of an opulent Tyrian purple trimmed in finely embroidered golden eagles as befits an emperor who is to act as president of The Great Dionysia. He wore no other decorative devices other than a simple wreath of natural grapevines encircling his head. This was a leafy corona heralding spring, symbolic of the cult of Dionysius and the joyful fruits of the vine.
Taking his stand on steps above the courtyard with Arrian and Commodus behind him, Caesar patiently awaited the thirty-odd attendees in the yard to file past and make their proper obeisance. Both Antinous and Lysias followed the others by bending their knee to the yard's gravel while bowing their head in unison and crying Hail Caesar!
Hadrian stepped forward and raised the two Bithynians to stand upright before him.
'Rise, young friends, and welcome. It's a pleasure to see you again,' he stated loudly so all could hear, while glancing back at Commodus with a nodded acknowledgement.
'Geta,' he instructed me nearby, 'ensure Antinous and Lysias of Bithynia share our company closely today. Make sure they and Senator Atticus accompany me close through the procession, and remain close throughout the day's festivities. There's much to discuss between us after all this time.'
I beckoned the three to one side so I could assign them a special position in the cortege.
Beyond the villa gateway a stream of Athenian citizens crowded the street accompanying a larger-than-life-sized wooden effigy of the god Dionysus held aloft by sturdy men. They were led by two youths who, traditionally, were ambiguously dressed in women's attire. Arced boughs of vine leaves and springtime plants were being waved in the air while several huge, pronouncedly-erect wooden phalluses were trundled by teams of acolytes and choristers. Floral garlands symbolizing the arrival of spring adorned the cavalcade, while drummers and tambourine players beat-up a lively noise above the throng.
Spotless black bulls were led by priests of the cult bearing their sacrificial sledgehammer, knives, blood bowl, and flaying tools. Caesar's party fell in behind the musicians as the entire swarm veered gaily towards the looming crag of the Acropolis a mile distant.
On arrival at the open-air Temple of Dionysus at the base of the steep slope beneath the Acropolis many of the women dispersed leaving the males to witness the ritual slaughter of the bulls with the portion-offerings to the god. The effigy of the deity, whose weathered timbers and faded paints told of having witnessed several hundred offerings of the annual Dionysia, was lifted carefully to the stage of the Theater of Dionysus nearby. The theater is a concave stone slab amphitheater rising up the slope of the hillside with a marbled semicircular stage fronting its base. Dionysus was placed prominently on the stage in view of the sixty ascending rows of stone ledges for seating an audience.
On this day at least seventeen thousand persons, of whom only a fraction were women or older children, were clustered together in its concave arc. Several score of Athens' flamboyant hetaerae courtesans in attention-grabbing decolletage, extravagant hairstyles, and exotically inventive face paints, accompanied by their high-paying clients, were attending this first performance day of the year's Dionysia week
The throng of spectators appreciate how this festival is one of the few occasions in the civic life of Athens where citizens, women, freedmen, foreigners, slaves, or even children are permitted to participate in judgment on performances by mass ovation. With many of the festival's dramas possessing discernable parallels to current political life, the applause, jeers, or shrill catcalls could convey popular opinion to the city's rulers with clarity. Century by century, Athens' rulers had wisely listened to the massed ovation of the audience, or to any distinct lack of it.
The row closest to the stage is a line of marble thrones. The central chair is designated to the High Priest of Dionysus at Athens with Hadrian's beside it as the year's President. The remaining thrones seated other priests, the city's Archon, councilors of the city, and senior members of Hadrian's retinue.
Thirteen judges representing each of the city's thirteen deme 'tribes' sat at one wing to umpire each new competing play. The judging panel assessed the quality of the drama and the responses of the audience with equal measure.
Arrian too sat close by Hadrian, as did the elder Herodes Atticus. Elegant Commodus was not seated but stood behind Caesar's shoulder in a close place of favor, while others arranged themselves in nearby positions. Horse Guards and Praetorians hovered discreetly at the end of each of the rows rising up the high amphitheatre, while the Athens Militia policed the upper rows.
I guided Antinous and Lysias to sit or stretch on the stones at the feet of the first row near to Caesar, an agreeably casual arrangement for young men held in high regard, fronting Herodes Junior's chair. I myself stood beside Commodus behind Caesar's presidential throne within earshot of the surrounding conversations.
The Bithynians youngsters were fascinated by the sartorial finesse and skittish manner of the young senator whose opalescent skin has rarely seen direct sunlight. His choice of a formal toga at an event where more relaxed dress predominated showed a degree of hubris. Commodus's voguish persona sparkled and tinkled and effused amid the theater's noisy swarm of earthy Greeks, his glittering twitter almost overwhelming Caesar's imperial gravitas.
The patrician's sprightly manner was visible to all sixty rows. It was the flashy banter and studied fluttering of a noble Roman dandy.
Perhaps, the two wondered with alarm, these were the Court manners and public style of educated gentlemen-of-quality at Rome? Yet they noticed how despite Caesar appearing to be amused and entertained by the bright young thing's vivacity, he – our most lofty of Romans and ultimate arbiter of public taste – did not emulate the senator's display. Nevertheless Commodus made himself the sparkling center of attention.
Suddenly Antinous had a useful idea. I observed he turned to comment laconically to his friend seated beside him on the paving at the rim of the stage floor.
'Don't you feel it's very hot here, Lys?' I could hear at a distance.
'Hot?' Lysias responded quizzically. 'What do you mean? No, not especially, Ant.'
The spring sunshine of Athens was diffuse that day, but not especially intense now the rainy season had passed. Yet neither Lysias nor I sensed the sun was especially bothersome.
A ceremony of the endowment of weapons and armors to thirteen orphans was underway. The thirteen, each barely into their teen years and slight of build, displayed their upper torsos to the assembled spectators while the donations of armor were being fitted and strapped across their bird-boned frames. This display of bare skin had given Antinous food for thought.
'Yes, Lys, I think it is hot today. I need to cool down a little.'
Antinous began to untie the cloth bows at the arms, shoulders, and midriff of his tunic. The folds of the upper half of his chiton dropped away to reveal the full extent of his bare torso lying beneath the diagonal swathe of his himation mantle. Antinous's broad shoulders, cut chest line, orbed abdomen, and tanned muscles were exposed to public view. It was a conspicuously buff vision.
In a city once renown for the athleticism of its young men with its long tradition of Olympic competition, plus its naked palaestrae training methods and cult of masculinity, Antinous's nonchalant half-disrobing prompted a rustle of muttering across the assembly. A tide of whispers spread. It seemed Athenian youngsters, husbands, fathers, grandfathers, and devoted family men, as well as its more outward-going womenfolk, could still appreciate the contours of an ephebe at the peak of nature's perfection.
Lysias immediately understood Antinous's intent.
Using the pretext of the heat of the day he too took his cue to untie his tunic's upper laces. His sturdy anatomy too was now on public display.
Both lads sensed how Caesar's group spied these actions with interest, focusing especially on Antinous. Arrian observably suppressed a wry smile, while Herodes Junior found his eyes settling with enhanced interest upon Lysias.
The elder Herodes leaned to Arrian to comment quietly, while I was close enough to hear when Commodus asked something privately in Hadrian's ear. The senator's giddy manner had ceased its flightiness. Cool sobriety had taken hold.
Reclining side by side on the flagstones to indulge the exhibition of their physiques, Antinous leaned to Lysias to whisper. I can only imagine what he may have asked, but I assume it would be in the order of --
'I wonder if this is the sort of thing Lord Arrian had in mind for us at the Baths yesterday? It seems to be working, Lys.'
Both youngsters sat in casual indifference to the attention generated among those around them, while people in the rows above craned their necks for a better view.
Antinous indirectly noticed an elderly man dressed in disheveled garb amble in veering paces from a doorway at the back of the theater's stage. He teetered erratically through the lines of orphaned juniors buckling on their oversized armor and weaponry.
The man was a shaggy-haired, wild-eyed fellow with rickety legs and bony flesh. He was loosely garbed in a drab tunic and scrappy broad-brim sunhat tied behind his neck. He was holding a raised object in one hand while waving the other in emphatic gesticulation as he muttered incoherently at his surroundings. He moved unsteadily across the stage area as though he was a comic mime performing a special dance for the ceremony. Yet Antinous hadn't noticed his participation earlier. For that matter, nor had I.
Antinous tugged at Lysias's elbow to draw attention. Amid the prevailing good cheer it hadn't occurred to anyone the fellow might be following a less cheerful agenda. That was until a small, thin object in his raised fist glinted a flash in the sunlight.
Both boys immediately realized the fellow's fist was holding an instrument which, as he drew closer to the assembled row of thrones, took the shape of a small knife protruding from a covering. The man was stumbling forward across the stage intently towards Caesar, whose attention was turned away from the approaching menace.
Instantly without a moment's hesitation the two Bithynians leapt from the stones to fling themselves at the fellow.
Lysias lunged head-first at the man's midriff in a wrestler's flying tackle which pounded the breath out of the old guy. Antinous simultaneously leaped high to snap an expertly maneuvered arm lock on his raised limb. He wrenched the upheld instrument from his grasp. All three toppled to the flagstones in a cloud of dust as several Horse Guards lurched forward with outstretched javelins and drawn swords. A loud collective cry went up across the theatre.
Antinous grappled the man's arm until his grip was released. The dismayed elder cried out and writhed about as Lysias planted one foot firmly on his squirming ribcage. Antinous lifted the offensive object to view.
The old man's hand had been grasping a small rolled parchment enclosing an antique fruit knife. The miniature dagger displayed a dulled point, blunted edges, and a rusty blade. On closer inspection the knife seemed too innocuous a weapon to be capable of any serious wound, except perhaps upon a piece of fruit. It was more likely to inflict nothing other than a nasty bruise on human flesh.
Nevertheless the spluttering fellow with the wild eyes had been fortunate that neither a Horse Guard's gladius blade had pierced his throat nor a Praetorian javelin skewer his entrails.
Hadrian, Arrian, Commodus, and myself, accompanied by officials, guards, and the Herodes Atticus pair, circled around the elder. Hadrian looked over the unkempt, writhing fellow whose tongue uttered words of rabid inconsequence while his body struggled beneath Lysias's firm boot. When Antinous displayed the sorry weapon for all to see I retrieved the small scroll from his grasp to unroll and read its contents.
'It appears to be a letter or document from long ago addressed to 'Philip, a hoplite of the Achaea Militia', and carries the name and title of an archon of this city,' I announced.
'Tell me, old man, are you the Philip of this document?' Hadrian demanded, waving the scroll at the struggling fellow.
The man was so visibly shaken he was incapable of a civil response. It dawned on the assembled group the fellow was not simply confused, he was thoroughly disoriented in the manner of a demented geriatric. His eyes displayed little comprehension of his circumstances while his features were visibly gaga. Saliva dribbled from his mouth.
The senior Herodes Atticus, Prefect of the Free Cities, took the scroll to read its contents.
'It seems, Caesar and friends, this fellow was once a soldier of this city. His face is vaguely familiar to me, so I guess he's a military pensioner on the city payroll. He wears no evident nameplate, branding, or the tattoo of a slave, so he's probably a freeborn citizen fallen on hard times.
The paper is in Greek, but appears to be of the time of Caesar Trajan or even earlier? The Archon listed is from very long ago. It commends him for his service to the state as a captain of hoplites. Perhaps he served in past wars or the city militia? Maybe he wished to make a petition to Caesar to improve his pension, or suchlike? If so, he chose the wrong time and way to do it,' Atticus explained.
Hadrian stepped closer to the figure lying beneath Lysias's foot and waved the pressure off him. He looked down upon the startled fellow.
'Old Soldier, what is your meaning here? What are you up to? Did you intend me some injury with your fruit knife? If so, your Last Day would have arrived very swiftly, I assure you,' he called to the stricken ancient who was straining to mouth incoherent words.
The military tribune in command of the Guards made his presence known.
'My lord, if I may, this man should be made an example of,' he stated with his sword point aimed directly at the man's throat. 'A severe public beating or even death itself is necessary to punish him and dissuade others of like mind.'
'No, no, no, no, Tribune. The fellow is plainly mad, demented, or just old,' Hadrian responded. 'He's a tired soldier whose judgment has fled him in his dotage. He's probably done this city great service in his time. But he's also probably received a hard hit on the head that's damaged his reason along the way. Let him be, and let him be unharmed as well,' he soothed. 'Talk with the city's militia to see if the man's family or abode can be traced. If he is alone in life, see to it he receives a useful adjustment to his pension so he can live his final crazed days in comfort,' Hadrian instructed. 'This the second time in a year I've been attacked by a malcontent. Remember that lunatic slave at Tarraco in Iberia last year? Release the fellow and escort him home safely so we may continue with our holy purpose here today.'
The startled graybeard was gathered up by several Praetorians and bundled away.
Hadrian meanwhile, in barely suppressed amusement, looked over the two dusty, knee-and-elbow-scraped combatants with grazed tunics kneeling on the flagstones. Commodus languidly wandered across from the President's throne to join the circle. His presence was heralded by a surge of floral fragrance.
Hadrian scanned the boys as they dusted themselves down.
'Well, my two young friends from the provinces, you performed magnificently on the stage of this theatre today, didn't you?' Hadrian said with a grin. 'I suppose I must be gratified you kept your wits about you? I might have met a fate similar to the old fellow's fruit peels or cheese rinds?'
'It was our duty, sir,' Antinous responded in polite modestly to this whimsy, 'if a bit rough on our new clothes.'
Commodus was visibly put on edge by this exchange. Hadrian continued.
'I think such observant bodyguards deserve to be kept closer about us,' the emperor jollied, 'especially through the performance we are about to witness. I am told the choristers are to sing and dance the ancient drama of Alcestis today? I invite both of you eagle-eyed lads to stay by my side through the play to watch against further assailants, and to help me translate its Attic intricacies into my Latin understanding. As students of history you are probably more familiar with Euripides than I, so you can explain his finer points to me.'
Commodus emitted an audible hiss through pursed lips.
He turned smartly on his heel, and strode off brusquely from the stage. He realized Caesar's invitation to Antinous and Lysias had displaced he and I from our privileged places behind the President's throne. He may have interpreted the gesture as implying he should stretch on the dusty tiles at the feet of the first row in his unblemished formal toga. In fairness to his patrician status, this is an unlikely expectation of a Roman senator.
No one, including Caesar, tried to stop him departing. Even I resisted leaping to my usual conciliatory gestures, though two of the younger Romans in nearby rows accompanied Commodus in a theatrically dramatic flounce. The senator dispensed with the usual departure etiquette or permission from Caesar.
A Praetorian tribune nearby tensed ready for orders from Hadrian to act on this slur. But no order came. Instead, their departure merely raised a faint smile from Hadrian.
Suddenly drums were beating, cymbals clashing, and pipes and horns shrilled as a priest of Dionysus entered centre stage to proclaim the start of the performance. Seventeen thousand pairs of feet noisily shuffled in their seats while Antinous and Lysias accompanied Caesar to his President's chair and stood behind his shoulder like dutiful sons or honored emissaries. Their close proximity meant Caesar could mutter queries back over his shoulder to one or the other so they could respond in whispers. I too stood close by to overhear as much as was possible.
'Remind me again, Antinous, what are we hearing here today?' Hadrian asked.
'We are to hear ancient Alcestis sung, I'm told. It is a tragedy which won its Dionysia trophy for the playwright Euripides in the days during the Great War between Athens and Sparta long ago,' I heard the lad reply. He seemed to know his Greek dramas.
'And what is Alcestis all about, remind me of that too,' the emperor enquired.
'As I recall, sir,' Antinous began, 'Euripides was from a family of priests of Apollo similar to my own kinsmen. So the drama is based on the legend of Apollo when he was the lover of the mortal, King Admetus of Thessaly. Apollo rewards the king for his affection by granting him the great boon of freedom from death if he can find someone willing to die in his fated place. After searching widely, the king finds no one is willing to be a substitute for his death. Then his beautiful wife, Queen Alcestis, volunteers to do so.'
'Ah, yes, the drama of the substituted death. Queen Alcestis,' Hadrian recollected. 'And then?'
'Alcestis loves Admetus so much she believes it is her duty to die in place of her husband to permit him Apollo's gift of extended life. That's the basic story, but Euripides cleverly uses the legend to explore sensitive issues between men and women, and between freeborn and slave.
Euripides also discusses the nature of marriage, of marital love, and the generosity of women in the face of their menfolk's privileges and obsessions,' Antinous continued. 'It even asks about the nature of Love itself.'
'That sounds more Roman than Greek,' Hadrian opined. 'As a Hellene you lads probably don't realize how the people of Rome allow more freedom to their womenfolk than you Greeks do. Yet Euripides was already saying these things several hundred years ago! Amazing!'
'From memory, the play opens at the very moment the queen is due to die,' Antinous offered.
'It comes back to me now,' Hadrian muttered as Apollo, an actor wearing a silvered mask portraying the god's eternal youth and handsome features, entered the stage. His silvery costume, draped by his bow and quiver of deadly arrows, stepped solemnly into view in time to music of funereal double-pipes and a deep drum. These throbbed mournfully offstage. He traversed the stage in a unique tripping dance which specially signifies Apollo.
'Where did you learn so much about these things, Antinous, at your age? And from a distant province too!' I overheard Hadrian murmur. 'Aren't horsemanship and weapons enough for young fellows to master?'
Antinous lent forward to whisper his reply over Caesar's shoulder, which I could barely overhear.
'Sir, Lysias and I as acolytes of Apollo and Artemis were taught about the life and affairs of the Healer. Our tutor in literature, a kinsman priest of the cult, taught the young of my clan all manner of matters about the god, his rites, his many lovers of both sexes, his children, including his son Asclepius, the god physician,' Antinous responded. 'He is the sun of our lives and we praise him despite his irascible, mercurial nature.'
Silvery Apollo paused majestically at centre stage as the music subsided to allow the god to chant the opening words of ancient Alcestis. Euripides' first lines are well known to audiences across the Greek East.
The pipes and drum's throb trailed away as an expectant hush settled upon the amphitheatre.
All eyes focused on the silver mask of Apollo.
'House of Admetus!' the actor's call throatily resounded across the towering steps of spectators. As he continued this initial plea, thousands of additional voices surged to life to accompany him.
'Here I have suffered bread as common workers must endure.. yes I, a god, Apollo!' the actor declaimed.
His voice was immediately swamped beneath the engulfing roar of thousands of throats as they too enjoined Apollo's complaint of his servile status at his lover King Admetus' palace. On conclusion of the booming line the mass erupted into uninhibited self-applause. It was an uproar which registered the crowd's collective satisfaction with its own recitation of such a revered line in the presence of Caesar.
I, visibly a Dacian barbarian who had never witnessed Alcestis previously, was impressed by this unexpected enthusiasm of the Greeks. Nevertheless I was obliged to lean closer to hear Caesar's asides to his young attendants..
'You say Euripides talks of the role of women?' Hadrian threw over his shoulder as uproar resounded around the amphitheater. 'But what do you two lads know of women, eh? Have you enjoyed a woman yet, you two, or are you abstaining until your betrothal? I am led to believe some Greeks actually do so, though not many I'd wager?'
Antinous and Lysias hesitated, being taken aback by such a forward question about such personal matters.
'I confess I possess only limited experience with women,' Antinous responded, wondering if Hadrian remembered their conversation at the symposium garden at Nicomedia. 'But I am contractually betrothed to a cousin of my family who is still a child at this time,' he added. 'Perhaps we will marry when time matures or the omens are favorable.'
By now Apollo was regaling the audience with a mimed outline of the play's plot, accompanied by gentle pipes and a drone. He reported the news of how Queen Alcestis was presently undergoing her death throes to fulfill her promise to Admetus. Another actor wearing the black mask, wings, sword, and costume of Death mounted the stage, stepping across its flagstones in a magical, unearthly glide. He provoked the audience to collectively groan in fearfulness.
'I wonder who solicited this particular play for my enjoyment?' Hadrian muttered to himself perhaps too loudly, somewhat distracted by the appearance of the black robed figure. "Was it me, keen to see a famed classic? Could it have been my secretary? The empress's household? I wonder? None of these things happens entirely by accident, I say.'
He then shifted from Common Greek into his own tongue, Latin. This was possibly to test the two boys' comprehension of his exchanges or to assess their skill as students of Latin.
'Tell me, Antinous of Bithynia,' the emperor murmured low in Latin, 'how do you propose to pursue this destiny of yours? What has changed in your ambitions since our nighttime rendezvous some months ago?'
Antinous was silent for a period as he sought to respond in correct Latin to the query. The delay caused Caesar to look back over his shoulder to probe for the missing response.
I, standing some distance away almost out of earshot, was straining to overhear their conversation or was following every lip movement for a clue.
'I am flattered that you should ask, my lord,' Antinous eventually whispered in insecure but competent Latin beneath Apollo's and Death's reverberating orations. 'I believe, sir, a great deal has changed in my life. I think I am more focused on what the gods may have in store for me. There are things I must do in life to fulfill my destiny,' he carefully articulated in better-than-average student's Latin.
'I see,' Hadrian replied with an approving tone to his test, but again in Latin, 'and precisely what might that destiny be, I wonder?'
'This will depend upon the favor of the gods and the grace of my noble lord,' Antinous responded, now reverting back to Greek for ease of expression while adding a dash of diplomacy. He sensed Caesar's openness to informality in the exchange.
'Yet perhaps the most important of them, if I am permitted to be so forward, sir,' he whispered, his voice lowering even further for extra privacy, 'is to communicate a special message to our Princeps.'
Both Lysias and I were now alerted to strain to hear his subdued speech.
'Princeps? You mean me?' Hadrian confirmed. 'A petition you have, is it lad? I have vassals who attend to petitions, my boy. I do not welcome uninvited petitions.'
'Sir, if I may be so bold, it is a special petition for your ears only,' Antinous dared. 'It is of an intimate nature.'
I could detect Antinous was showing beads of sweat at his brow.
'Intimate? Then tell me, what is this particular petition, our tiro bodyguard with eagle eyes?' Caesar asked breezily, if dismissively. I watched Antinous inhale a deep breath to summon his courage. His hand and voice trembled as he spoke very faintly.
'The message is this,' his voice dropped to a husky whisper barely audible beneath the amphitheater's populous hum. He spoke in Latin.
'Yes indeed Caesar, I am yours.'
He repeated the statement for clarity in Greek in a croaky voice.
Hadrian's jaw stiffened. His features firmed. His manner resumed its formal Imperial mode of bearing after such an extended period of casual informality. He turned towards the stage and sat impassively in silent absorption through the remaining hour of Euripides' drama. He made no reply.
I suppose we each sensed he was calculating a magisterial response appropriate to an Imperator's comportment, or else he had simply dismissed the statement outright. After all, he had been conversing in a highly familiar manner with two foreigner ephebes of no social consequence, nil political value, no evident status or superior wealth, and from a backwoods colony at that.
The lads and I noted Caesar's fingers invest intense energy in drumming the hand-rest of the throne. Yet a sense of stillness settled upon him as Alcestis progressed.
Antinous exchanged furtive glances with Lysias. He was flushed with embarrassment. It was apparent he wondered if he had overstepped his mark and been presumptuous.
When the final words of Alcestis were echoed away its chorus of mimes and the three actors who played the major masked roles presented themselves for judgment to the audience.
Hadrian, in a flourish of his Tyrian purple tunic and mantle, rose to stand before the theater's crowd. He responded to the players with lively applause, which encouraged an even more enthusiastic response from the citizens in the rows towering above.
Amid the cheers and whistles of praise, much of which was directed to the emperor himself as sprigs of vine and new season blooms were tossed to the stage, Hadrian turned towards Arrian, the two Herodes, several Praetorians, nearby officials as well as the two youngsters and myself to call loudly above the acclaim.
"And now, good friends, it's time for feasting and carousing in the famous Athenian way in honor of the god Dionysus!" he cried. "It's time to release pent up emotions and give ourselves up to the sacraments of wine, bread, and meat to enter into communion with the divinity.
My friends, not only must we offer thanks that Alcestis is returned alive from Hades into the arms of her kingly husband by the grace of old Euripides, but I too offer thanks for how I am returned to full life this day by the grace of Aphrodite's child, Eros! My long praises and offerings to Eros have been rewarded in this very place today!'
Those of us within earshot initially wondered what event Caesar was referring to? It would hardly be the collaring of the old warrior, we sensed.
Hadrian's eyes swept the nearby rows with a beaming countenance. His informality had revived. His eyes scanned across the lower rows and pointedly settled upon the figure of Antinous standing before him behind the throne.
He took one hand of the young man in a raised grasp to look directly to his eyes. We saw him nod a subtle affirmation which held a telling message to all who saw it, Antinous as well as Lysias and me. We immediately knew its meaning. He uttered a single word which only those nearest could hear. He said it in Latin and repeated it in Greek.
'Accepted.'
Antinous blushed deeply. He had not been too presumptuous after all.
The nearest rows of leading citizens slowly grew to interpret Hadrian's message. Its dawning injected extra energy into the expanding applause. But the applause was no longer simply for the assembled players or Caesar.
Rising to their feet and addressing their ovation towards the young man standing tall before the emperor in his distressed tunic, grazed elbows, and a casually slung cape around his bared torso, their applause swelled.
It was now time for Antinous to smile broadly at the world around him. Lysias too was visibly overtaken by emotion. I think I even detected tears welling in some eyes."
Geta paused in his testimony.
"So, Caesar confirmed his liaison with the Bithynian but also broke with Commodus? Is this your meaning, Dacian?" Suetonius asked plainly.
"Yes."
"Yet I see no real enemy here yet. Unless you say Senator Commodus is an enemy in some way?"
"This will be apparent if you are patient, sirs. May I continue? I must describe the events which occurred at the masked revel later that night?"
"Do so, Dacian, but we don't have all day."