In lieu of the availability of girls of our own class, whose virginity is securely protected from all males until matrimony, are we to depend on the erotic services of expensive hetaerae consorts, or importune our household slaves, or common sex workers, or other women or males of available inclination? Alternatively, were we to take a more senior guy as our erastes mentor, weapons trainer, social network guide, companion, and sex partner?
'What events will your household pay prizes to?' I asked Antinous as I tore the roasted chick in two to offer his portion. The campfire flames danced before our eyes. Night had swiftly fallen, so deep swigs from a shared wineskin washed the fowl flesh down. The sweet dark wine was our respective vineyards' own drop. It helped warm our insides now our dried loincloths and tunics warmed our exteriors.
'Will you offer money or food when Caesar is here? And what will you compete in yourself, Ant? Foot races, of course.'
I was envious of my friend's sprinting skills, especially in full-dress heavy hoplite armor. He had far greater stamina than I. But my body-weight was useful in wrestling matches, even when age-matched.
'Father says he'll fund major prizes as usual, and I'll enter the wrestling bouts in our age group even though I'm not fully in condition," Antinous offered with a knowing grin. "With luck, you and I will draw lots to wrestle again, eh, Lys? It's my turn to take you down this time. Those recently-bearded ones at the palaestra who watch us both so closely must be missing their regular dose of naked flesh to letch over. You and I haven't grappled nude in front of them since the meet at Heraclea in July, so they'll be hot for it I guess? But I'm already training for the javelin cast and sprint races too, so you should enter the wrestle challenge at least.'
We both devoured our roasted flesh noisily as we talked. Then Antinous became thoughtful for a few moments.
'I've a very good chance in the sprint-in-armor in my age group, and I'm a possible for the pentathlon. You can't win everything, you know Lys, but I'll sure give it a try. This isn't the Olympics or the Pythians where hard cash goes to a winner. These are show matches for Caesar! Greek arete is on show!'
As meirakia young men, Antinous and I were mature enough to train with the heavier, more dangerous weapons of the palaestra. We were senior cadets in the Polis Militia and no longer fell under the guardianship of our family's paidagogoi, the chaperone slave who keeps older, hassling-with-intent men at a proper distance from us.
Antinous's family line proudly derived of Hellene origin from Mantinea in Arcadia at the Peloponnese, and provided warriors as auxiliaries to Rome's legions in combat at Dacia, Pannonia, Parthia, and Armenia. I'm told Antinous was a late pregnancy to his mother, who died in childbirth. Perhaps he was a 'happy accident', considering ten years separated him from his first-born brother. It was said his father had North Land maternal blood, so both his sons and an intermediate daughter possess hints of the fair hair, blue-gray doe eyes, and clear complexion of the Rus tribes of the Far Frozen Quarter. It's an appealing look.
His father Telemachus was still living then, but was infirm due to old war wounds. Antinous's married Elder Brother managed their estates, plantations, and timber businesses. They traded in hardwood timbers harvested from the Pontine Mountains for the ship-building workshops at Nicomedia and across the Aegean Sea, often in partnership with Lord Arrian to share costs and risks.
I am the son of Lysander of Claudiopolis, born at my father's town-house at Nicomedia, capital of Bithynia-Pontus I had already turned eighteen in March that year, so I was already a meirakion. My clan too was of Greek warrior origin from the city of Mantinea at Arcadia. They migrated to Bithynia many generations ago. My father was of the land-owning nobility of Bithynia who fought with the Greek cavalry auxiliaries of the Legions under Trajan. He was wounded and died of his injuries after battle against the barbarians at Pannonia a month before my birth. My family under my Elder Brother's inheritance as paterfamilias possesses estates dealing in grain, sheep, horses, leather, and timber.
Antinous and I are related by clan as officiates of the cult of Apollo, Healer of Heaven. This gives us wide contacts in the province. We had shared tutors together as children; played and sported together with other children of our caste; and spent our palaestra years in countless wrestling bouts, archery matches, swordplay, athletics, and other competitive games. Above all, we enjoyed each other's company. But the time was approaching for us to complete our education in Athens, far from home across the Aegean Seas.
'Do you still think about Athens, Ant?' I asked as he stoked the fire and added extra brushwood to keep the heat going. 'Are we going to do it?'
I was sitting close by Antinous to maintain body warmth in the increasing chill of night. We shared warming squirts from the carved-bone nozzle of one of the two leather wine bladders our ponies had carried around their necks into the Pontine ranges.
'Father says he's willing to cough up the costs for finishing my education, so I guess it's going to be alright,' Antinous offered while staring distractedly into the flames. 'He says we should think about making the journey early after winter in the new year. Perhaps in March at the beginning of the sailing season, he says. He's willing to pay for a whole year's stay at Athens, including schooling and gymnasium fees.'
'My Elder Brother says if I accompany a cargo of timber to Piraeus near Athens, the family can justify the expenses for the remainder of the year. Isn't that exciting?' I enthused.
'Father has already made enquiries through Arrian with letters to a former cavalry companion at Athens named Herodes,' Antinous continued as we intently studied the inner patterns of the flickering flames before us. 'Herodes is Bithynia's proxenos at Athens as well as being Prefect of the Free Ports of the East, Father says.
The man has a son of the same name, Herodes, who's been contracted to seek living quarters, servants, horses, and all that on our behalf. He's also applied for entry to the School of Secundus at Athens to complete our education. Secundus is a highly-regarded teacher of rhetoric and philosophy. His school is Stoic, but of the older moderate Stoics not one of those new puritans who suppress emotions. Father says these new Stoics are extremists who rail against all pleasures, even sex itself unless it's strictly done for baby making. They demand restraint to the point of abstinence.
Neither Father nor my tutors accept the new puritans. We'd all have to become celibate or, alternatively, we'd end up with too many mouths to feed. Then we'd have to dispose of all the unwanted ones. No one agrees with killing babies. But celibacy isn't the answer, at least not for hot bloods like us. So it's all happening, Lys.'
After a few more wine-sack passes, we had mellowed to a mood for approaching sleep. While the two mountain ponies lightly grazed nearby with an occasional snort and snuffle, we two crawled together under our shared horse backcloths. We stayed close by the fire to keep warm. With my tongue now loosened by wine, I had a provocative question to ask my friend.
'Tell me, Ant, is it true that the ephebe captain of the town militia, Phaenius, the guy who won the pentathlon at Nicomedia two years ago, has propositioned you to be his eromenos?'
I immediately clammed shut when I realized I'd asked more than I was entitled to ask. Antinous was ominously silent for a few moments.
'How did you find out?' he eventually asked.
'It was all the talk of the palaestra a week ago.'
'The truth is, Lys, I didn't know anything about it at the time. But the guy is obviously a blabber-mouth. He asked Father for the permission rather than ask me. I knew he had his eye upon me around the palaestra yard and in the baths over the past year, but the old gymnasiarch kept moving him on. I didn't take him seriously. I bet he had his eye on the other unattached guys too, probably including you, Lys.