A Forbidden History.The Hadrian enigma

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A Forbidden History.The Hadrian enigma Page 28

by George Gardiner


  Commodus raised the sword and waved its honed blade in too-close proximity to Antinous's frame and face. Antinous tugged his head back abruptly from the hovering razor.

  'You are a transparent opportunist who aspires to enter into the society of great Caesar, is that not so? I have heard of you whispered in Court gossip. You're the newest contender for the role of catamite to Caesar, true? You're a toyboy, a wastrel offering your body and anus to the passing amusement of the Princeps. The presence of such menials in this sacred place is a profanity deserving of immediate penalty,' the patrician sneered.

  'Turn the harlot around!' Commodus instructed his companions.

  Taking Antinous by the scruff of his mane and locking his arms, they forcibly revolved him and pinioned his jaw to the altar's bleached stone. Commodus reached with the sword's tip and delicately lifted the hem of his tunic to expose the young man's securely clothed rump beneath. Antinous struggled fruitlessly under his oppressors' crushing weights.

  'It's whispered, hustler, that you've been positioned at Court for Caesar's delectation by covert forces aiming to shift the balance of politics of the Imperium in some treasonous faction's favor. They say you're a stratagem or gameplan for deviously cornering Caesar's influence?

  Who is your patron, whore? Who set you up? Tell me! Do you represent the long arm of Senate discontents reaching far into Asia? Do the Legates at Ephesus or Antioch use you for persuasive ways to shore-up their claim to the succession someday? Or have the tentacles of that monstrous creature at Rome, Praetorian Prefect Turbo, set you up to spy? Perhaps it's merely Vibia Sabina herself has recruited you to punish her husband in some witty, wily feminine way? Which?!"

  Commodus was warming to his subject.

  'It seems our foreign prostitute deserves his posterior's flesh to be incised with a memento of his intransigence to help loosen his tongue, to take as a keepsake of this night to remember for evermore?'

  Commodus waved the iron blade's tip ever closer to the young man's hindquarters.

  'Clear the slut's tail!' he commanded one of the masked men, who stripped the cloths from Antinous's hips. His slender pelvis and dimpled butt was exposed to view.

  'I have done you no harm, my lord!' Antinous called aloud. 'I am no prostitute or spy. On Apollo's honor I've committed no offence I know of! You assault an innocent freeborn subject, sir!'

  'Yet you possess a whore's pretensions! Your true offence is in your very existence,' he continued. 'It's your existence that requires concrete conclusion. You take liberties with the honor and favor of the Imperium. You deserve the ultimate penalty. You merit being cast to wild dogs or large cats in the arena. I as a representative of The Senate am empowered to act as magistrate upon such offence, and pass judgment — '

  Commodus idly circumscribed the gladius blade in the direction of the lad's exposed rump, aiming erratically as though preparing to strike.

  'Not if you wish to commit violent assault and sacrilege yourself, Commodus!' a new voice called from the temple entrance. 'Drop that weapon and release the boy! You have no jurisdiction here, Roman senator or not!'

  Commodus and the two masked men spun around to see at the door Herodes Atticus, Lysias, and three guardsmen of the City Militia with pikes poised for instant action.

  'This is a consecrated temple of the Imperial Cult within the sacred precinct of the Acropolis,' Herodes declared. 'Neither weapons nor sacrilege are permitted in this precinct. This freeborn youth has done you no harm. He has committed no offence. As a commander of the City Militia and a councilor of Achaea, I charge you with public disorder and breaking the peace, Lucius Ceionius Commodus. You have assaulted a special guest of the emperor who is under civic protection. You wield a weapon where weapons are forbidden. You dishonor the memory of the several Caesars about you in this holy place. And you insult the councils, laws, and hospitality of the city of Athens. At least one of these violations will be a capital offence!' Herodes snapped. 'So drop the sword now!'

  Commodus responded haughtily in kind.

  'I am a citizen and senator of Rome. Do not speak injudiciously in my presence, Greek!' the patrician declaimed with lofty derision.

  Herodes and his team moved forward with the long pilum shafts reaching close to the caped trio.

  'You forget I too am a citizen and senator of Rome, Commodus,' Herodes responded calmly, 'endowed personally by Caesar, not acquired by purchase. As a commander of the Athens Militia I posses the jurisdiction to take punitive action wherever necessary.

  If you harm Caesar's guest one whit I will fulfill my duty to a matching degree. This sacred place is under the rule of the law of Athens, not travelers from Rome! Release the young man unharmed, discard your weapon, or suffer lethal force. I will spill the blood of any coward who attacks an unarmed man without reason!'

  The three militia guardsmen had maneuvered their long blades within reach of the assailants. The trio of Romans wavered.

  Commodus signaled to his companions to unhand Antinous. He was about to flamboyantly tumble his blade to the paving stones with smirking bravado when he suddenly spun around. With lightning speed his sword flashed out at Antinous, its blade whispering close by his face. A slim hairline incision two inches in length opened across Antinous's cheek. It welled scarlet.

  Lysias raced to his friend's assistance as Antinous lurched away from his persecutors to greater safety, grasping his loincloths about him as he moved.

  Herodes grabbed a spear from one of his militia companions to resoundingly whack its metal-studded hardwood shaft across Commodus's back. The impact knocked the gladius from his hand and brought him tumbling against the altar block with a sharp cry. He clawed at his spine and fell to the flagstones in an ignominious flurry of toga wools and dust.

  Now three glinting spear points were hovering menacingly within inches of the senator's face. The smirking bravado had vanished.

  Herodes raised the sword from the flagstones and waved it languidly in the direction of the Roman.

  'We are done here, Senator Lucius Ceionius Commodus. You have exhausted your credit in this city,' the Athenian declared as the patrician stumbled painfully to his feet.

  'You insult Rome, Greek!' Commodus declaimed as he gathered his toga around him. 'You will hear more of this! Make way for your betters, foreigners!' He prepared to flounce out of the shrine.

  Herodes stretched his arm in the Senator's path across the door portal. Commodus was halted in mid-flight, the sword's point now waving close to his face, not Antinous's.

  Herodes spoke quietly.

  'This event tonight will be duly recorded by a magistrate of the City Watch, Senator, and its recording documents witnessed by those present. As a councilor of this city I will ensure the deposition remains secured in perpetuity. I will not take you into custody on this occasion; its embarrassments would disturb the tranquility of Caesar's pleasures at our Dionysia.

  But be rest assured, Commodus, the charges will remain alive on file. I doubt you or your pleasant companions will be welcome to Athens at any future time because my father, the Prefect of the Free Ports of the East, will object to such troublemakers receiving passage. We are law abiding in this city. You are not welcome here. I suggest you depart Athens promptly and return to Italy, or else these charges will be enacted upon you within twenty-four hours. They will be to your eternal dishonor in the eyes of all Athenians, especially including Great Caesar.'

  Commodus smirked thinly and swept grandly away with a pained stumble as he clutched at his back. He sneered at Antinous as he passed through the door into the night beyond.

  Lysias was attending to Antinous's wound while the injured youth fumbled with adjusting his attire. Herodes closely inspected the sliver of red flesh across his cheek.

  'The wound is superficial but it needs proper attention, Antinous,' Herodes observed. 'It pains me this should happen to you in such an exalted place. We will withdraw immediately to my villa nearby where my own physician can attend to the lesion.
I will send a message to Caesar that you have been indisposed, and where to locate you later if he should desire.'

  Antinous took his two friends by the forearms and looked into their eyes.

  'Why has this happened, Herodes? What have I done to deserve such an attack? I don't even know this man Commodus!' Antinous implored. Herodes responded immediately.

  'Welcome to imperial politics, Antinous of Bithynia. Your journey into its shadows has just begun.'

  "So, Geta, you say Senator Commodus is a candidate for being a serious enemy to Antinous? You say he might even be involved in the death of the youth by some nefarious means?"

  Clarus as usual was blunt.

  Geta looked blankly to the four faces facing him as the river raced in a continuous rush in the background and morning insects buzzed around. The day's warmth expanded rapidly.

  "At least, gentlemen, I can identify someone who might have reason to do Antinous harm. Have you achieved such yourselves?" Geta queried. Suetonius ignored the query.

  "So, what transpired after the Bithynian had been assaulted?" he asked. "How did Hadrian respond?"

  Geta was specific in his recollections.

  "I will try to recall the events as I believe they occurred, gentlemen. I myself witnessed much of the action. It was a challenging situation. We who were close to Hadrian protected him from the reality of his former paramour's waspish nature. Antinous too had resolved to avoid blame or retribution, which tells us something about the lad's nature and generosity of spirit."

  Geta sipped his wine thoughtfully and returned to his testimony.

  "Who did this thing, Antinous?' Caesar asked with concern. 'Did Herodes kill him where he stood?'

  Hadrian had lifted the dressing attached to the Bithynian's cheek and peered at the wound beneath.

  'No. They were merely drunken ruffians,' Antinous said. 'They were in high-spirits at the festival, I suppose,' he explained.

  'How many were they?' Caesar continued.

  'There were three of them, my lord, masked for the festival.'

  'Where? In my enclosure, or in a public space? Did these assailants offend my hospitality?' the emperor garbed in the Tyrian purple tunic asked threateningly. He was still crowned with a corona of woven grape vines. He fumbled at the fibula on his shoulder to release the cloak and drop it to the floor, and tossed the corona like a child's quoit onto a chair's upright.

  One of the two Horse Guards accompanying him performed the unmilitary duty of collecting the fallen robe and laid it over a chair while a household servant scurried to offer assistance.

  'It was public space. I was scouting the Acropolis plateau by myself. I've never seen such a beautiful space before in my life. It is remarkable, Caesar. I'd been making my obeisance to Athena Parthenos in her cella of the Parthenon. I then spied the Temple of Rome and Augustus a little further on. The three attacked me within the Temple's sanctuary,' Antinous explained.

  'At a temple to all things Roman, including my own ancestors! So Herodes had been wisely following behind you, had he? I'd obliged him earlier to watch over you two neophytes. The Dionysia has been known to get out of hand in this city. So, did he arrest the hooligans?'

  'No, sir.'

  'Herodes has the authority of the City Watch at his command, he can prosecute uncivil behavior and inflict immediate punishment by his own judgment,' Caesar continued. 'For their insult to someone under my protection I'll demand the ultimate penalty. But how did the ruffians manage to damage you as they have? Was this an intentional mutilation?'

  'My lord, it was foolish of me to wander unaccompanied on such an occasion,' the young man tried to remonstrate. 'I'll know better in future. I'm lucky they didn't do me greater damage, really.'

  Antinous had been resting upon a couch after the revel in Herodes' villa's andron. Herodes had delivered the two Bithynians to his villa a few blocks from their own house at Melite, and a similar distance from the palatial villa of the Imperial Household of Caesar himself.

  Herodes had summoned his family's personal physician, a highly regarded Judaean trained at Pergamum, who had carefully cleansed and anointed Antinous's wound with special unguents, and applied a clean dressing adhered with purified mastic. He said the wound was not deep enough to require stitches, much to everyone's relief. In addition to the risk of corruption, which even simple wounds can induce, stitches would have left a permanent scar across his face.

  After ensuring Antinous was comfortable, and after sharing wine, Herodes had asked Antinous if he objected to Lysias staying overnight with him at the villa. Lysias would sleep in the men's quarters with Herodes, and Antinous could bunk down on a couch in the andron, the villa's meeting chamber.

  Antinous had no problem with the arrangement, especially as Lysias was obviously agog with his unexpected opportunity. Herodes had thought of everything.

  'I've sent a messenger to Hadrian's chamberlain and the Dacian, Geta, telling them where you can be found. I mentioned your misadventure, though I haven't mentioned who the offender was. I think tonight you should sleep here and not risk the drunkards or desperates of Athens,' Herodes counseled. 'I'm sure Caesar will send for you when your presence is required. Meanwhile, Lysias and I will retire to our own pleasures, hopefully with his friend's blessing?'

  Lysias looked towards Antinous in a faintly pained, querulous way, as eager hounds do when seeking a favor. The carnal intentions of the couple were obvious, yet Lysias seemed compelled to seek some tacit acknowledgement from his friend that this was acceptable behavior. Antinous simply nodded with an amused smile. He thought maybe, at last, Lysias would be properly deflowered or achieve whatever else was his body's desire.

  In fact he privately considered his friend's choice of partner to be a highly worthy one. Herodes was older by five or six years, but his behavior was readily approachable by the usual lofty standards of city notables or senators. By the standards of a desirable erastes, such an accomplished companion was optimum. The man possessed confidence and charm coupled with a fine physical presence.

  After more wine and small talk into the night, the two departed for their sleeping quarters with much tipsy shoulder-hugging and slap-happy body-contact. Herodes certainly had a predilection towards Lysias's butt, Antinous observed. A manservant scurried after them to provide rugs and chamber comforts for a late night sojourn.

  Antinous made himself comfortable on a couch and tried to ignore the smarting sting across his left cheek. The villa fell into silence as its lamps burned low. Occasional bursts of laughter and whoops of joy echoed remotely in the night Was it through the thick walls of the men's sleeping quarters, Antinous wondered?

  An hour or two later the clatter of horses' hooves on the courtyard paving stones and some gruff talk at the entrance portal was followed by booming knocks at the iron-reinforced, bolted doors. It announced the arrival of Caesar and his attendants. A steward unbarred the doors as Hadrian silenced his Horse Guard companions to late night quiet.

  'I shall summon my master, Great Excellency,' the steward of slaves enquired with much nervous bowing. 'He would wish to personally welcome you to his home.'

  'No, let him sleep, man. I am informed the Bithynian named Antinous is on these premises?' Hadrian declared.

  'Yes he is, my lord. He is within, in the andron chamber,' the steward hesitantly indicated. 'He too might be sleeping. Shall I summon him to you, my lord?'

  'No.'

  The emperor tossed his riding gloves and a voluminous fur mantle over a bust of an antique philosopher as he spied Antinous across the atrium's space standing by a warming brazier at the andron doorway. Even in March Athens can be cold at night.

  He strode through the foyer followed by his guards and walked up to the young man raised on a step or two above the foyer's mosaic floor. Antinous promptly began the body actions of the obligatory obeisance ritual's genuflections. Hadrian halted the action mid-performance by grasping his arm in one hand.

  'Bring wine and cups,' he comman
ded the steward. 'Four! Ensure it's good wine!'

  A slave pattered off into the interior of the villa while the chief steward discreetly stood to one side. The two Horse Guards took their ease some distance away, their helmets under their arms but with their hands at permanent readiness on their sword hilts.

  Caesar stepped up into the andron for a closer search of the dressing attached to Antinous's cheek. He began his interrogation of the wound's origin and its inflictor.

  When the servant returned with the refreshments, Caesar poured four cups and offered one to each Guard.

  'Scorilo, Godron, your chores are complete for the night, you are now off-duty. Let us salute the day's achievements, but acknowledge its deficits too,' he declared as he offered the fourth cup to Antinous. All four raised their cups in cheer and drank deep. 'To Dionysus!' the Guards muttered.

  'I heard of your injury, lad, so I came as soon as I completed my obligations. Show it to me.'

  He gingerly raised and peeped beneath the mastic-held dressing. Antinous suppressed a wince as the emperor's fingers nudged the tender flesh nearby.

  'You've been fortunate I think,' Caesar offered from his long experience of inspecting many a wound, from the slightest surface scratch to the most abject butchery. 'It's shallow, an incision not a score, so it will heal quickly if the physician keeps it closed and clean. He knows his trade, that physician of the Herodes family. But the slice will leave a definite scar on your features, Antinous. It's a shame to see such pristine flesh marred by an everyday reality. Is this your first war wound, lad? I'm certain it won't be your last.'

  Antinous already knew how Hadrian carried a dozen wounds of varying magnitudes on his frame, including a visible scar across his forehead which was never depicted on the many life-sized statues of him in public squares.

 

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