Lysias had uneasily taken his seat in the centre of the chamber. He looked towards the eager faces confronting him. He began hesitantly.
"In the name of Apollo Alexikakos, son of Zeus, healer of heaven, and Apollo Kourotrophos, protector of youth; as well as Artemis, who Romans call Diana, twin sister of Apollo, protector of hunters, I swear fidelity to the truth.
As a clan servant of these deities at the cult in Bithynia, may my oath be true, and may their arrows strike me down if I speak untruth."
Lysias began, sitting to his full height before the group while fingering the bulla locket around his neck. Suetonius assumed the bulla contained prayers or a talisman.
"I am Lysias of Bithynia, son of Lysander of Claudiopolis, born at my father's house at Nicomedia in March of the eighth year of the rule of Caesar Trajan. I turned age twenty-four this year. I travel with Caesar's retinue by invitation under the protection of Antinous of Bithynia, companion to Caesar. I have known Antinous since childhood."
Lysias paused for the next question. Suetonius took the reins.
"Because Antinous cannot speak for himself, tell us what you know of the deceased's origins too," Suetonius asked. A dewy drop was appearing at the ephebe's eye.
"Antinous, son of Telemachus of Claudiopolis, was born eight months after me at Mantinium, upland from Claudiopolis near the border, in the ninth year of Caesar Trajan's rule. He too would turn twenty-four, if he was alive, next month.
Since entering the older age-class of meirakia youths five years ago, we were registered as Companions of the Hunt with the Imperial Household."
"Tell us, Lysias, how did you two fellows come to be enrolled in Caesar's retinue?"
"We were both appointed by Great Caesar when Antinous fell under Caesar's eye during his tour of Bithynia," Lysias explained. "Caesar proposed to Antinous's father, Telemachus. He wished to fulfill the role of erastes to Antinous under the terms of the custom of the Hellenes. Both father and son acceded to the request. I was present at this very consultation and heard it discussed between the family members. Antinous has remained Caesar's eromenos until very recent times. At least that's how Antinous saw it."
"What were the circumstances in which you both fell under Caesar's eye? How did this happen?"
"It is a lengthy story, my lords. It would take time," Lysias offered.
"We have a little time, young man," Suetonius reassured. "It is important to hear about the nature of your relationship with the deceased. We need to know the details so we can take a bearing on the issues involved. Everything, Lysias, everything."
Lysias thoughtfully sipped his mug of wine and looked moodily to the floor tiles.
"I can recall the very first time we two discussed the issue of being an eromenos," he said. "After qualifying for the meirakion age-class where we train with the heavier, more dangerous weapons of the palaestra, we must consider how to locate an experienced trainer. A trainer must teach us effective fighting skills and practice long hours with us. It's very time consuming.
Antinous and I talked about such things between ourselves when we journeyed on hunting expeditions. Antinous was a keen hunter. Five years ago we always shared experiences, we were inseparable friends. The eromenos issue arose during one particular hunt in the Pontine Ranges to track a herd of horses we had been told were running wild…"
The Greek gathered his thoughts to recall the occasion. He spoke with a shimmering emotion. The group of listeners sat in quiet attention.
"It was the fall of that year. In Bithynia winter descends quickly. We and our mountain ponies were ranging the lower slopes of the Pontine Ranges. We had spent two days searching for the herd — ."
CHAPTER 7
"Antinous braced his pony Tiny cautiously," Lysias recollected. "He pressed his calf and thigh muscles, gripped the horse's bony flank with both knees through the backcloth, and gently tapped its neck with the loose end of the reins. The pony moved forward slowly. Antinous then carefully lifted his hips and butt from Tiny's spine to take a peep over the edge of the ridge ahead of him.
His eyes revealed what both of our ears had sensed. There they were, fourteen of them, all quietly grazing. The Imperial Post courier had reported accurately of the number and type of horses, though the pack had moved a mile or so since the courier's sighting. It had taken two full days for us to find them.
Antinous beckoned back towards me following close behind. He held a finger across his lips to hush an urge to make voice, and then point-marked towards the gentle slope falling away beneath the ridge.
I approached carefully on my pony, Blaze, drawing to Antinous's side. I looked over the ridge at the grassy slope below. We soothed Tiny's and Blaze's tension with calming strokes and whispers.
'Great Zeus!' I heard myself hiss. 'It's a whole herd!'
'Fourteen of them,' Antinous whispered. 'Running feral. Mostly Turkomans. Small grays. The two foals and their mares look healthy still, but they haven't faced a winter yet. They'll be a good catch if we can corral them before the snows arrive.'
'Where are they from? Their crests are cropped, so they're domesticated.'
'Their tails are docked too in the barbarian style, see,' Antinous pointed. 'Maybe they've escaped from a brigand's hideaway, possibly after a run-in with a Militia? Or perhaps they've wandered off from a roaming tribe of Alans nomads and crossed the border into our territory? The Alans were too afraid to come after them or the Legions would crucify them. I can't see any of our usual branding or ear nips, and I certainly don't recognize the stock from trading meets, do you? So they're not local.'
I agreed. 'But where are we, what's their position? We'll have to note where we are, to come back for them. There's too many for us to capture.'
Antinous considered the options.
'It'll take six riders with hounds to round them up and rope them one by one. We're about a mile due west of the trapper's hut in the valley under the south side of Vulcan's Peak. The grazing is good, so they'll move on very slowly. They can't go higher into the range, the grazing runs out and there's no water.
We'll have to come back within a few days with our best riders to round them up, or they'll melt away. The two foals and the colts would make good breeding stock. Father says we need fresh blood badly, we inter-breed too often. If the colts can be ridden they'll give good service. The mule looks like it has farm work to spare. If not, it's meat and leather time for them all. They're a good find, Lys. We're very lucky.'
We slowly backed our steeds away from the grazing herd's sight. With our broad-brimmed sunhats strapped to our backs over woolen mantles and tunics torn short for riding, we were full of youthful health and spunk. We willingly displayed our muscled forearms, thighs, and trim torsos in our recent status as meirakia grown youths. We were proud athletes moving rapidly into full manhood. We were both very aware of our developing powers and our bodies. I especially was sensitive to these things.
Our fiercer weapons were stoked across our horse's backcloth while quivers of arrows and carry-bags were looped around each pony's neck within reach. Only hip daggers offered emergency defense against the possibility of a roaming bandit or an unseasonable wolf in the lower ranges of the Pontine Mountains. But we were trained to handle such risks.
Carefully drawing our ponies back, we returned to the woodland track behind us.
'It's getting late,' Antinous said. 'Sunset is in an hour. It's time to hunt us some hare or fowl and find a protected camp site. There was a creek back-a-bit with a clearing nearby. That'll do for the night. We don't want to alarm the herd with fire light, or they'll haul off.'
'Well, what'd you think of the news, Lys?!' Antinous called to me as he swung off Tiny's back.