Death On The Nile (1 of 4)

By Pueros

Part 1 - Bithynia

‘Just now, as I was passing the place where they make garlands,
I saw a boy interweaving flowers with a bunch of berries.
Nor did I pass by unwounded,
But standing by him I said quietly,
“For how much will you sell me your garland?”
He grew redder than his roses,
And turning down his head, said,
“Go away, in case my father sees you!”
I bought some wreaths as a pretence,
And, when I reached home, crowned the gods,
Beseeching them to grant me him.’
- Strato (2nd century Greek poet)

(Claudiopolis, Roman Province of Bithynia, northwest Asia Minor [modern-day Mut, near Bolu, Turkey], Dies Saturni, A.D. V Kal. Dec. DCCCLXV A.V.C. [Saturday, 27th November, 112 AD])

Claudiopolis was located amongst picturesque mountains, northern spurs of the Taurus range, some of which were snow-capped even in summer. The city was situated at the lower end of the forested central Calycadnus valley, before the river enters the narrow gorge that leads down to the distant coast, which was full of headlands and small sheltered harbours on the pirate-infested Pontus Euxinus [modern-day Black Sea]. Most of the local prosperity derived from timber and the growing of fruit in large plantations, much exported to Rome, Egypt and Syria. However, on this day, it was the cultivation of a particular human form that was to bring the locale greatest renown.

On this day, in the simple dwelling of a plebeian artisan, of Thracian ancestry, was born a son, destined to be regarded as the most beautiful boy ever created, before becoming, worshipped throughout the Empire, the last god of the Romans.

(Temple of Zeus, Claudiopolis, Roman Province of Bithynia, northwest Asia Minor, over 10 years later, summer, 123 AD)

The much-travelled master of the known world was returning from the east, where he had successfully concluded a peace treaty with the dangerous Parthians, who had been threatening war. During the journey westwards, the 47 year-old, originally from Hispania and, unusually for a Roman, bearded in the Greek fashion, had decided to visit Claudiopolis, so named after the location had been earmarked for the resettlement of veteran soldiers during the reign of the Emperor Claudius about 70 years previously. The splendid new Temple of Zeus of the former ‘Colonia Julia Augusta Felix Ninica Claudiopolis’ was currently being specifically honoured by a visit from the Imperial guest, who had paused to stand before one of the sacred shrine’s secondary statues, which portrayed a beautiful naked boy.

Hadrian, like his predecessor, Trajan, had a well-known taste for such creatures, and not just of the divine sort. The current Emperor’s predilection was presently evidenced by discomfort underneath his copious rich toga in the region of his groin, a potentially embarrassing side-effect of his close study of the new marble figure.

Hadrian appreciated that the fine carving in front of him seemed to be a very realistic portrayal of a Ganymede much younger than normally depicted. The delectable body of the mythical boy, abducted for his immense beauty by Zeus to be the god’s cup-bearer on Olympus, was usually reproduced in an older form than the 10 year-old shape, hewn from the precious stone, exhibited on the plinth before him.

Hadrian, mouth suddenly rather arid, and conscious of the large fawning retinue accompanying him on his tour, was reluctantly about to walk on to inspect more mundane Temple scenery when a fateful thought crossed his mind. “When and where was this excellent statue made?” the Emperor managed to ask, despite the dryness of his larynx, of his latest guide, the sacred shrine’s High Priest. “Recently and here in Claudiopolis, Sire,” the host answered, “by a local sculptor.”

“Does the young model therefore live in Claudiopolis?” Hadrian next enquired. “Yes, Sire,” the High Priest replied, “because the boy is the son of the sculptor.” “Then,” the Emperor commanded, “please have them both brought to me!”

(Provincial Governor’s Palace, Claudiopolis, Roman Province of Bithynia, northwest Asia Minor, shortly afterwards)

The humble sculptor was terrified at being summoned by the Emperor. The statue of Ganymede in the Temple had been the artist’s most important and lucrative commission to date, as his previous work had been confined to the much less rewarding provision of carvings for the homes of the rich. However, he was now concerned that Hadrian might have taken offence at his statue of Ganymede, perhaps for poor workmanship, depicting the young mythical hero in younger form than usual or even profanity in using his own son as the model. The man had originally chosen to do the latter because he was immensely proud of the boy’s truly remarkable looks, which everyone suggested were divine, but he was now beginning to regret such nepotism.

The sculptor was therefore visibly trembling when he was introduced to Hadrian in the resplendent residence of the Provincial Governor, where the Emperor was staying during his stay in Claudiopolis. However, the artist relaxed considerably when the most powerful man in the world eventually welcomed him with hospitable warmth and compliments, although these kindnesses were temporarily delayed by a shocked awe that had rendered the Imperial host momentarily speechless.

Hadrian’s temporary incapacity had been induced by rapid realisation that the magnificent statue of the heavenly being in the local Temple of Zeus only partly reflected the unparalleled earthly reality of the boy who had been the model. The splendid vision of the wondrous young entity accompanying the sculptor had additionally caused further disquiet in the Imperial groin.

Hadrian felt his face become bright red, but not just because he was currently incapable of speech or afraid of imminent orgasm. The Imperial facial hue was also an indication of the Emperor’s shock that such beauty, possessing gorgeous, long-lashed and heavy-lidded sensuous sky-blue eyes and lengthy silky blonde hair curling in tendrils, could exist in the world of mankind without being reclaimed by the gods.

When Hadrian subsequently managed to regroup his senses, especially his mental and vocal capabilities, he thanked the sculptor politely for obeying his summons and profusely congratulated him on his superb craftsmanship, as displayed in the local Temple of Zeus. Having considerably reduced the artist’s apprehensions, the Emperor’s infatuated eyes returned to the sublime shape of the gorgeous boy standing next to his adult guest.

“And what’s your name?” the Princeps gently enquired of the delicious 10 year-old, who, in contrast to his father, looked both nerveless and confident.

“My name, Sire,” the boy answered, with a smile so disarming that Hadrian began to feel light-headed, “is Antinous!”

(To be continued in part II – ‘Rome’)