Antinous aimed and flung the second weapon at its writhing hulk, but the point deflected sharply off its weathered spine onto nearby rocks with a hollow clatter. Leaping forward and grasping the original pike to press down on its staff to maintain its bite on the pinioned creature, while simultaneously fumbling for his hunting knife at his belt for a more intimate kill, he found he was immediately fixed in place by the sheer writhing vigor of the beast.
Though the animal's tusks had been blunted as a safety precaution, its snarling fangs and fear-foamed nozzle could nevertheless do serious damage to human flesh or bone. Hadrian's instructions to his hunt master had taken into account the inexperience of his young hunters, not wishing to distress his provincial families with a hunting accident. Yet no one had advised the boar of this precaution.
Antinous found himself in an untenable position. If he released the hold on his spear as he drew his knife for a proper kill he risked the animal lashing out at his legs and thighs. Regardless of the greaves protecting his shins, the creature could still lacerate. While he applied his full body weight to the spear the boar was temporarily disabled. Yet as it writhed from side to side he realized the light wooden shaft of the lance was likely to splinter under its struggle.
Instantly those arriving at the scene saw his dire bodily peril should the shaft disintegrate. Fevered blood raced through every artery, vein, and membrane. I immediately leapt from my pony, lance in hand, ready to strike at the first opportunity to subdue the creature.
With a silken whistle, flash, followed by a solid thud, the beast dropped to earth. A gleaming short-sword blade had arced through the air with a deadly whisper to pierce directly into the boar's skull. It impaled deep into its bony cranium above its brow.
The boar instantly tumbled to earth with only occasional muscle spasms and twitches, the blade firmly embedded in its broad head. The throw, a field soldier's expert knifing from a distance, resolved the dilemma of the pinioned creature as the two Scythian archers speedily positioned themselves on their steeds for similarly decisive action. The blade had shimmered into its target's skull within spare inches of Antinous's own limbs and flesh.
Antinous, still excitedly grasping the lance shaft, looked back to see which of his companions had made the decisive blow.
Hadrian grinned broadly as he dismounted from his Nisaean and casually approached. He scanned and interpreted the hunter's adrenalin shining wildly in Antinous's eyes. He read his tensed muscles, flaked dry mouth, and frozen hand-grip.
Gently taking hold of the two clasped hands around the original javelin, the emperor calmly and methodically started peeling the rigid fingers away from its upright shaft.
'Found yourself in trouble here, lad?' he asked with laconic dryness. He realized Antinous was frozen to the lance in a race of excited fear and crazed victory by the hunt's sudden conclusion. He was stricken speechless by his predicament.
'You rode well, lad,' Hadrian offered. 'But perhaps your risk assessment skills leave something to be desired, eh?'
While he patiently unfurled my friend's digits one by one, the master of the civilized world smiled knowingly at those gathered around as we all realized Antinous was projecting the hump of an excited combatant's erection from beneath his tunic's pleats. Young men are very easily aroused, even by life's less erotic occasions. My profusely perspiring friend slowly regained his senses and his civil tongue.
'It seems so, my Lord,' he muttered. He could feel his hands being pried loose from the pikestaff and visibly welcomed the restoration of movement flowing back into frozen extremities. The emperor's hands had carefully plucked each frozen finger from its grip.
Antinous's eyes were firmly on the countenance of his rescuer, wide in apprehension. He was struck by the gentleness of the man's firm hold and his generous intentions, while he stammered to find suitable words to respond.
Geta the Barbarian too had noted the gesture with considerable interest. Arrian and Julianus seemed equally charmed by the situation. I was electrified.
Then we, the gathered hunters, broke into a spontaneous applause of cheers and whistles of approval, a gesture which unlatched the tensions of the chase. Smiles flashed all round and helmets came off as the boys, men, and attendants dismounted to recover their relaxed ways.
I clasped Antinous around the shoulders and gave him a big hero's hug, coupled with deep relief that the hunt's outcome had been so propitious.
Hadrian took Antinous' right arm in a firm Legion greeting clasp.
'Bravo Antinous, son of Telemachus of Claudiopolis. The hunt is yours! Hail to the Victor!'
He raised his arm high, just as they had seen gladiators do in the arena at Byzantium after a win. Then he glanced knowingly at his comrades Arrian, Julianus, and Geta with a sly grin.
'But tell me, young man, do you know the story of Hermolaus? Do they teach you these things in Bithynia?' he asked loudly enough for all to hear.
Hadrian glanced to Arrian, and both Antinous and I detected a flicker of a wink pass between them. I saw Antinous slowly beginning to blush to a deep crimson.
I could not recall a 'Hermolaus' story from my studies, though the name was vaguely familiar. I wondered if I had misinterpreted Caesar's accent of Latin-colored Greek. However Antinous seemed very aware of the name. It visibly troubled him. His eyes fell shyly to earth as the hunt support staff arrived to bind the boar for transport.
Hadrian spoke.
'As my friend Arrian can tell us, who is a very great authority on these things, Hermolaus was a page in the service of Basileus Alexandros. King Alexander of Macedon was on a boar hunt in Persia with boys from his retinue, and this one lad — Hermolaus — struck at the chased boar which Alexander himself prized to kill. Hermolaus killed it instead.' Caesar looked around at the group as everyone's eyes narrowed with rising concern.
'Alexander was so outraged at being denied the strike he had the boy thrashed before his fellow pages and confiscated his horse,' he added.
A hush settled on the group, and despite Arrian's knowing smile everyone feared for Antinous's comfort. Was Caesar being cruel? Was this another side to Caesar?
Antinous caught his breath and stood straight to his full height, which was already almost level to Caesar's, to look the emperor directly in the eye. The emperor waited patiently for a response with the barest hint of a smile. Antinous's cheeks flushed.
'My Lord Caesar, sir," he began in a formal tone with a salutary dip of his head, "May I speak?' The emperor nodded. Antinous responded.
'Hermolaus, son of Sopolis, committed far worse than steal a hunter's kill. He was involved, if I recall correctly, in the tragedy of a plot against Alexander the Great, and many of the pages paid dearly for it. Justly so, we in Asia believe, such was the degree of the treason. The Roman historian Curtius Rufus of the days of Caesar Nero records the tale at length.'
He paused to measure his effect in case he was stepping beyond the boundaries of protocol. But it seemed he wasn't.
'We Hellenes read the story of Alexander with pride because he is one of us, though we read the Curtius text in Latin with its parallel Greek translation for our schooling. But we also read King Ptolemy's version of these tales of Alexander in their archaic Attic Greek, along with the historian Aristobulus and the other romance tales of Alexander,' Antinous offered with scholarly seriousness. He had regained his tongue.
Hadrian was taken aback by this schoolroom history lesson. So too were Arrian, Julianus, Geta, and the others, who raised approving eyebrows. Even the two Praetorian Guardsmen seemed impressed behind their professionally sullen demeanor. The emperor nodded agreement but then, after another conspiratorial glance to Arrian, his countenance became stern. He posed a further question.