"It's been a miracle, in the eyes of the natives," Aristobulus explained to Suetonius's first questions. "They now expect their problems with the Nile flood to be resolved in next year's deluge. They're convinced the death of a Roman noble has been Caesar's gift to them, the gracious gesture of a Pharaoh to his subjects in times of difficulty."
"The fact that our Great Pharaoh is himself exceedingly distressed by the incident evades them, I suppose?" Suetonius commented. "So, Imperial Astrologer, are any more unexpected deaths being told in the stars?"
"Today is the second day of the month of Hathur to the locals, Suetonius Tranquillus, or the fourth day to the Kalends of November to we of Rome," he proposed sagely, "and the day's omens are quite auspicious. Tomorrow's will be even more so. Osiris will resurrect at dawn with the sun, so The Isia will then extend to a weeklong celebration. For many in this strange land it's the year's major festival."
Aristobulus, a native of Antioch at Syria in his fifties, was renown for his command of Chaldean astrology and divination.
Phlegon was a native of Tralles, a small city inland from Ephesus at the coast of Caria in Roman Asia. His scholarly specialty was as a collector of marvelous tales and fabulous wonders for both Hadrian's amusement and Rome's avid book collectors. Phlegon's enthusiasm for recording reports about hermaphrodites, unusual births, monsters, giant skeleton bones, ghostly revenants, or mythical creatures, enlivened the Court's days.
"Before you depart on your day's pleasures, good worthies," Suetonius interjected, "we have some questions to ask you about the deceased, the Bithynian youth Antinous. He was well known to you, I believe? Clarus and I have been commissioned by the emperor to explore the circumstances of the boy's life and death. We possess the powers of a magisterial enquiry. I am appointed Special Inspector."
The two Greeks sobered swiftly in response to this announcement. The use of torture upon non-citizen foreigners was a given in a magistrate's armory of investigative aids. Neither man of science is a citizen of Rome.
"We're entirely at your service, gentlemen," they sang in unison.
"Tell us, Aristobulus, what you know of Antinous and his activities," Suetonius queried. "To begin your legal deposition, first tell us who you are, state your profession, and where you were on the night of his death? Further, what is your view of this misadventure?" Suetonius queried.
The astrologer shuffled uncomfortably for a few moments before rising to the occasion to declaim theatrically in Greek-inflected Latin.
"I, Special Inspector, am Aristobulus of Antioch, astrologer to Great Caesar. I am a magus, theurge, and hierophant of the ancient priestly dynasty of Emesa. The blood of Babylon flows in my veins. As an exponent of the Chaldean Oracles and a student of Marcus Manilius, I practice the sciences of the stars, mathematics, dream interpretation, occult ritual, and divination.
My recall of the youth Antinous is his birth to have been on a late date in the coming month of November. The actual time of birth was unknown to the lad. He told me so on those occasions when he consulted with me on astrological matters, which were increasingly often in recent times.
He told me his mother died shortly after his birth, so his precise hour of birth was uncertain to him. It seemed even the year of his birth is uncertain. He said his family's nurse had told him he was born on the twenty-seventh day of the month of Cybele of the Bithynian calendar. This corresponds to our November. At least this would be a reasonable start to charting his destiny.
However, Special Inspector, to cast the chart of someone so favored by Caesar's is to calculate in proximity to Caesar's own stars. This is forbidden and a dire offence. I did not dare calibrate a horoscope for the boy, so his recent fate was entirely beyond my predictive skill."
Suetonius thought to himself here was yet another of those serendipitous fortuities in the professional life of a fortune-teller, a fortuity by omission in this instance.
"Where were you on the night of his death?"
"As you well know, Suetonius Tranquillus, I travelled with you much of yesterday across the river at Hermopolis with our academic colleagues. I then lunched and bathed with you at the local Baths in the early afternoon," the Antiochan explained. "It was I who informed Tribune Macedo of the security service of your whereabouts at The Street of Pleasures in the late afternoon. This was when Caesar summoned your urgent attendance."
"Where were you the previous evening, the night of the Favorite's death, Aristobulus of Antioch?" the Special Inspector repeated.
"Once again, Suetonius Tranquillus, I was with you and our Alexandrian companions at a drinking party aboard your felucca moored off Hermopolis. As you may recall, we shared considerable quantities of Chios dark sweet wine and much local beer," the astrologer imparted.
"What do you know about Antinous which might contribute to our understanding of the young man's death? I am led to believe you shared his company often?"
"Hmm, this is a difficult matter," Aristobulus offered as he stroked his splayed beard thoughtfully. "There was much about the boy which invites consideration, I'd say."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, he certainly did have odd interests for someone so young."
"In what way?"
"I quite clearly recall my first impressions," he responded. "Two years ago when the Household returned again to Athens while touring the Empire, several of us joined Caesar in taking initiation into the Mysteries at Eleusis. The Bithynian was among us. We, along with three thousand others, did so to bask in Caesar's company at the rites.
I accompanied Antinous with Caesar from the first day of the initiates' procession to Eleusis. We are not allowed to tell you about the final rituals of the sixth night at the Telesterion of Eleusis. That's a sacred secret. But I can certainly tell you about the effects the event had upon Antinous.
Prior to the final rite the initiates drink a sacred brew, the famed potion called kykeon. I don't know what's in the brew, or whether it affects some people differently to others, but Antinous was deeply intoxicated by the stuff. Too deeply, I thought.
It tasted to me merely like a bitter medicine, but it seemed to affect others differently. I even wondered if the particular draught Antinous consumed had been cunningly poisoned in some way, its effects being so profound on him. Gossip said his intimacy with Caesar had made powerful enemies at Court by his very presence, so anything is possible."
"What precise effect did the potion have on the lad?"
"Well, to my eye as a magus experienced in observing all manner of oracles, mediums, and mystics at work, the boy had been thoroughly beguiled by the kykeon.
I have witnessed enchanted sibyls inhaling the fumes of burnt leaves or grasses to achieve their insight, or ingesting sacred medicaments extracted from toads or mushrooms, or engaging in prayerful rituals to achieve a deep trance, but I sensed Antinous had been propelled into a thoroughly bewitched state of mind by the brew. I think Caesar, Lysias, and Geta too were concerned at his condition because, to me, he didn't look too happy about his situation."
"How did the potion affect you?" Clarus interjected.
"Well nothing happened to me really," the astrologer explained, "I was slightly distracted by the draught, but not to a degree I couldn't manage. Perhaps the boy wasn't familiar with intoxication? Yet he is known to enjoy his wine."
"Isn't the kykeon poured from a communal bowl? Doesn't everyone receive the same potion? And wouldn't Caesar's Praetorians have watched what Hadrian and his companions were receiving from the priests?" Clarus explored.