It was I who placed Charon's coin in his mouth, who poured libations to the gods over his grave's tumulus, who burnt incense to the heavenly domains, and who screamed loud paeans of praise to his heroism while shedding bitter tears into that long, pained, rainy night on the freezing Pannonia plain.
It was I who carried back to your mother's hearth his battered armors and weapons which still hang high on display in your family's andron. It was I who cut the bloodied lock of hair from your father's scalp which your mother wears to this day in a locket around her neck, and which I too retain enclosed in a niche of my sword belt. Your father, Lysias, was my greatest friend ever.
Yet regardless that it is I who privately commemorates Lysander's death each anniversary with proper ceremony, and knows intimately of his courage and nobility of character, it is you — Lysias his son — who projects his seed forward into time. This is your responsibility as a son.'
Telemachus sunk back into his chair exhausted.
I was absolutely shaken by this speech. Not one of we four had heard this story in the past, though a moment's deeper reflection could have realized its possibility. Telemachus resumed his address. His features now grew magisterial.
'In a man's world of fierce war, in hard training, in labor at the battle encampment, or on a forced march, rare human beauty shines in bold relief against a warrior's harsh realm. There are men who will be captivated by, aroused to ardor for, actively entice, and lustfully pursue to consummation such a paragon in whatever guise it manifests. Many men will be indifferent to the gender of their enchanter.
The extraordinary bloom of youth and the urge to entwine with it bodily before it passes away into time becomes an obsession for warriors daily facing fearful danger and imminent death. A beardless ephebe crossing over the short bridge into full manhood may discover how sharing the friendship of such a man can be both gratifying as well as protective. And its pleasures may be found by surprise to be reciprocal.'
The chamber was utterly silent.
'I think I see, Father,' Antinous offered hesitantly, politely, if uncertainly. 'All this was unknown to me, so I rely on your guidance.'
Telemachus brightened.
'But enough of this inconsequentia! Basically, what transpires between honorable men in private is their own affair. We do not snoop. So let us now explore Caesar's proposition, my son, seeing you appear to be reconciled to the role of a Friend of Caesar. I will repeat my query to you, do you accept Caesar's proposition, yes or no?'
All eyes turned to Antinous.
'If it is with your permission and blessing, I do Father,' he replied with renewed confidence.
'Then let it be recorded here before us: I provide my approval on behalf of our Household,' Telemachus intoned. 'I will write to Hadrian's Proconsul immediately.'
"The hour is late, Suetonius. We need sleep to be fresh for tomorrow's interviews. We should continue the Bithynian's interview in the morning," Clarus tiredly whined.
Lysias at last rose from his seat to depart.
"Am I discharged from further interview tonight?" he asked politely. Suetonius nodded.
"Yet we require you to attend us again just after sunrise. Do we send for you with lictors and the Guard, or will you arrive of your own volition?" Clarus asked sternly.
"On my honor, I will be prompt in attendance without escort," he confirmed. Lysias departed.
Clarus was about to dismiss Strabon and his assistant until the morning but Secretary Vestinus interrupted.
"Something of interest has come up," he announced quietly. "Caesar has released the body of the dead Bithynian into the hands of the Egyptian priests," he announced. "They have taken the cadaver to a special pavilion by the riverside. I am told they are preparing to perform their arts upon the corpse to defeat decay. It occurred to me you might wish to inspect the youth and his condition before they damage his tissues?"
The group looked to each other with immediate interest.
"Certainly. Lead on!" Suetonius called. "Sleep will wait!"
CHAPTER 13
Secretary Vestinus led the four through the camp's labyrinth of tented corridors and lanes. From behind felt walls cheery gales of laughter and muffled conversations echoed, while the rhythms of drummers or the heavy sighs of lovemaking were emitted elsewhere. Suetonius's early-to-bed generation had forgotten how younger folk engage in pleasurable activity late into the night.
They arrived at a pavilion erected in the Egyptian style close by the Nile's shore. Suetonius, Clarus, Vestinus, Surisca, and Strabon noted how it was signposted with a blue-painted Egyptian cartouche inscribed with the Eye of Horus symbol. A large-bodied, armed Nubian guard plus an imperial Horse Guard of German stock maintained watch by the pavilion's entrance. Both obstructed their approach with their weapons.
"We demand entrance in the name of Caesar!" Vestinus proclaimed.
The guards deferred to Vestinus. The Nubian disappeared into the pavilion to seek permission for their entrance. He reappeared accompanied by the priest who had been in the company of Pachrates earlier at Hadrian's reception chamber.
On sighting the four men and a woman he genuflected deeply before them in a spectacularly deferential manner, accompanied by a tinkling of bracelets, necklets, earrings, and golden chains as he bowed.
"My lords," the priest uttered in broken, accented Greek, "I am at your service."
"Egyptian, you have the cadaver of the dead youth Antinous within?" Clarus declared bluntly. "We are here to inspect the body."
Despite his priestly eyes drifting over the scarlet stripes of the togas of the two senior men with a visible calculation of their status, the Egyptian waffled his response.
"I am at your humble service, my lords, but I am presently engaged in the holy process of preparing the body of the deceased for rites of death on behalf of Great Caesar," he pleaded. "The preparation is underway, and is most displeasing to view, my lords."
"Displeasing?" Clarus asked in a stentorian tone. "We are familiar with the realities of death, Egyptian!"
Clarus was uttering a truism if ever Suetonius had heard one.
"Give us entrance immediately!"
"I bow deep in humility, great lord, before your noble stations, but do you possess the written authority of Pachrates, the high priest of Amun? I am only under the instruction of my master, Priest Pachrates," he said somewhat riskily, "and may not take orders from others. This pavilion is consecrated to the god Amun for the purpose of our rites. Only celebrants of the god are permitted entry into this sacred space, my lords. Otherwise Amun will be offended and bad omens could be invoked. "
The large Nubian was toying with his hip dagger and flexing his small wicker shield in readiness for action, unsure of the nature of this confrontation and awaiting the priest's signal for a response. He did so with some trepidation in the presence of three mature-age Romans in formal togas.
It is at times such as this that Clarus performs best, Suetonius recalled. With a sharp hiss through clenched teeth, the magistrate swept the priest and the Nubian aside with one arm and lunged through the pavilion's flaps. The others including Surisca swiftly followed through the opening.
In the gloom of the pavilion's interior the four could see several Egyptian workers hovering around a worktable lit by blazing torches shimmering their fumes through a vent into the night sky. The bench appeared to hold the bodily remains of the drowned youth laid out for the worker's attentions. An intense charge of cloying incense perfumed the chamber to mask the atmosphere, but the underlying sickly-sweet odor of decay cut through the fragrance nonetheless.
A separate table stood nearby with another body's shape lying under a covering. It was attended by two other workers, one of whom wore Greek not Egyptian attire. As the four entered the pavilion Suetonius noted how a covering cloth was quickly flung across the figure on the second table to obscure its features.
Jars of varying sizes and instruments of a surgical nature were laid on other tables, while
amphorae of fluids stood in their racks to one side. Strips of linen were piled into several baskets nearby. The group gingerly approached the worktables as the Egyptians ceased their activities and turned to confront the intruders. They had been splashing scoops of river water over the table to sluice its surface.
Antinous lay stretched atop the table, held up by wooden braces under his neck and hip.
The workers were evacuating the innards from his cadaver with surgical hooks. They drew the guts from an incision in the intestinal area and slid the slimy entrails onto a large wicker tray. The perforated wicker allowed the waters to rinse detritus away while the intestinal tissues remained behind.
Streaks of coagulated blood, mucus, and fecal matter from the innards was rinsed away but left the fleshy tissues undamaged. The five intruders immediately drew the folds of their robes to cover their faces against the odors.
"What is going on here, Egyptian, what is this process?" Clarus demanded. "It seems sacrilegious."
"We are preparing the body of the Worthiness for public display, great lord," the priest groveled before his betters. "It is not sacrilegious, it is performed with the prayers and rites suited to a god.
We must cleanse the inner cavities of the deceased of all putrefying organs before they pollute his Great Worthiness. The brain is especially difficult to recover without damaging his features. A body left in its natural state will emit polluting miasmas which quickly corrupt the flesh. Already a day has passed. Bloating and infestation are underway. By removing his organs into pickling jars and packing his cavity with linens drenched in cedar oil, as well as painting protective wax onto the skin, we delay corruption for a few days. But only a few days, lords, no longer. Decay is unavoidable unless we engage in proper Royal Embalming."
Clarus spoke sharply to the priest.
"I am told, Egyptian, you possess arts which will preserve a body indefinitely, not just a few days? I have been shown such miracles at Memphis."
"My lords, Great Caesar has demanded his companion be displayed in two morning's time. Special ceremonies are planned. Caesar requires his young friend to be ready for public showing on that occasion. Royal Embalming takes two months to achieve, not two days," he intoned with unctuous servility but evident honesty. "He would be bathed in special salts for a full month, just to begin."
"What do you do with his innards?" Suetonius asked. "Are these dispensed with?"
"We wash and oil them carefully, my lord, to protect them, and store them in canopic jars in protective lotions to await Holy Divination," the priest informed us. "They are accorded great respect, my lord, as is to be expected of such a Special Worthiness as this noble youth."
"Holy Divination?" Suetonius asked, "what is 'holy divination'?"
"Sirs, I am instructed that the entrails of Caesar's companion are to be prepared for divination. Their occult message is to be interpreted by the great priest Pachrates, Servant of Amun from Memphis," he soothed in a reverential tone. "My master awaits our delivery of the necessary elements as soon as they are prepared."
"Where are you to deliver the entrails?" Clarus demanded. "To whom and where?"
The priest looked anxiously at his workers and the Romans with their solitary female. He hesitated.
"Well?" said Clarus sharply.
"To the Temple of Amun beyond Besa on this east bank," he murmured reluctantly.
"And to whom?" Clarus added.
"To my master, the priest of Amun, Pachrates, my lords — but in the presence of Great Caesar himself," he stated with subtle emphasis on the emperor's name.
"In the presence of Caesar?" Suetonius and Clarus voiced in unison. Suddenly, it occurred to each of the group they had stumbled onto a project which might have been better left unknown.
"May I proceed then with my duties, my lords?" the priest oozed with a glint of victory.
The mention of Caesar was his masterstroke, he believed. But Suetonius felt there was now much more to be known.
"What is beneath the cloth of the other table?" he demanded.
A body shape was clearly evident beneath the folds. Was another corpse being eviscerated here, he wondered? Is there another death involved here?
"It is nothing, my lord, it is not to be considered," the priest fumbled.
Suetonius took the Clarus approach to simply walk to the table to flip the covering away from its contents. The priest cried "No, no, my lord!"
The Greek workman and his Egyptian assistant stood back smartly as the object beneath was revealed.
A figure of a human body carved into a single log of softwood was lying on the table. Its lower limbs were apparently still incomplete in mid-carve. Tools, chisels, and fine-edged razors lay nearby along with pots of paints and brushes.
The shape of the body conformed closely to the proportions of the figure of Antinous lying on the other bench. The head and facial features were already at an advanced stage of sculpting into a likeness of the Bithynian's face. Flesh-tone color had been applied to its surface.
"What is happening here, Greek?" Suetonius demanded. "I am an investigator commissioned by the emperor, Caesar Hadrian. Who are you, and what is this effigy? Name yourself and your status."
The Greek trembled before the man in the toga.
"I am Cronon of the Fayum, sir, registered in my nome as a freeborn artisan" he pleaded in Greek accented with the local guttural Egyptian dialect. "I am a painter of images of the living and the dead, my lord. I prepare coffins with portraits of their inhabitants so the Land Of The Dead can identify the owners throughout posterity. It is my trade, my lord. I have been hired to create an exact portrait of his Great Worthiness, the god Antinous."
The man was obviously a local born tradesman of Greek immigrant descent. Suetonius had seen such portraits of the Greeks and Romans of the Fayum Oasis and at Canopus in their prime of life which are painted onto coffins in anticipation of the day of their funeral. Many people retain these portraits instead of sculpted busts because they are very realistic likenesses. They are displayed in their homes as a record of their appearance at an earlier time of life.
"But what is it you are performing here? This is an effigy, not a painted image," the biographer blurted. The man bowed and offered obeisance in an especially demeaning way for a Greek. He had acculturated well to Egyptian values, Suetonius thought.
"My lord, we are preparing an exact likeness of the god. It, it, it — " he replied, but trailed away uncertainly. The priest interrupted.
"Sirs, Great Caesar and Priest Pachrates have commanded we possess a copy of the cadaver should the god decay beyond acceptance," he said. "We are creating a true likeness of Antinous of Bithynia. It is done in materials which will sustain exposure to the elements without decomposition. The likeness will be very accurate, my lord. It will be substituted for the fleshly body should spoiling overtake the god."
"Oh," Suetonius responded somewhat dismayed, "I see. You are taking precautions against decay?" But somehow Suetonius was not entirely persuaded by these responses. Something was not ringing true. He waved to his companions to gather close out of earshot of the Egyptians.
"Does any of this make sense to us?" he asked, "We have a corpse being eviscerated for priestly divination of its entrails. We have a wooden copy being prepared for its apparent replacement if decay sets in. And we have this magician Pachrates taking full control of the funeral rites in an antique Egyptian ceremony. I recall how Caesar was aghast at the prospect of any form of autopsy! Yet here we have a full-scale disemboweling underway? There's no consistency in this."
Clarus raised a question.
"Can someone tell me, what they are on about when they talk about 'the god Antinous'?" he asked. "In what way is Caesar's catamite a god?"
"Masters," Surisca quietly interjected, "with your permission, may I speak?"
They nodded grumpily in unison as people do when there's no alternative offering.
"It was today's street gossip at Hermopolis and among the
ferrymen when I was traveling to your tent city how a marvelous omen had occurred. A true miracle of The Isia was being touted by the priests. I was told a special sacrifice had been made to the divinities. A very special man had drowned in the River Nile today, the first day of The Isia.
They say someone who drowns in the Nile as a sacrifice to Osiris during The Isia becomes Osiris Himself. It is a tradition. The sacrifice is a miracle which will protect against a poor flood next year. Osiris will protect us in exchange for the life of the sacrificed man.
Is it right to say that your dead friend might be the special sacrifice, the drowned man? If so, he has become the god Osiris on this auspicious day of The Isia."
The four men glanced from one to the other. None articulated a word, yet each knew what the other was thinking. What is going on here? The coincidences are now becoming too obvious. The Nile floods badly; a sacrifice is called for. On the first day of The Isia Antinous conveniently drowns; etcetera. How much of this is accidental, they were asking themselves?
"May I now continue with my duties, great lords?" the priest asked. "We must work at speed to combat decay, and my master awaits delivery of the sacred tissues."
"I have two matters to address with the body, Egyptian," Suetonius stated firmly, "and I have a single question to ask of you and your workers. Firstly, I wish to inspect the wrists and neck of the deceased."
Suetonius stepped closer to the cadaver of the youth lying askew on the table awash with waters and bodily residues. He pointed to the wrists of both hands.
The nearest worker lifted Antinous's arms for his inspection so he could achieve a closer view of each wrist. Clarus too moved nearer to view the wrists. Neither was marked or damaged. There was no incision. Yet Suetonius was convinced he had seen an incision when the same corpse lay on Hadrian's divan in his tents only seven or eight hours previously. The Praetorian Urbicus had confirmed the incision when he and his troops first retrieved the youth's body from its fishermen finders.
Suetonius looked across to Clarus who was equally as wide-eyed at the lack of an incision.
A Forbidden History.The Hadrian enigma Page 19
