"You recognized the perfume, my dear? What does it tell us?" Suetonius charmed.
"It tells us the wearer was from Rome, my lords. I know the perfume well, as you might imagine. It is new, is highly prized, and very expensive. I've used it myself when I'm fortunate enough to be given a small gift of it by a wealthy admirer," Surisca revealed.
"Why does it tell us the wearer was Roman, Surisca?".
"Lavender blooms are only harvested near Massilia on the coast of Gaul, while the perfume's heads of wild marjoram are from Florentia north of Rome. Nowhere in the East produces these blooms in sufficient quantity to make perfume," Surisca explained, "it requires very great quantities of blooms. These two blooms are impregnated in oil, and then blended and have their scents fixed by a secret process. This is known only to an apothecary who owns a shop in the emporium arcade of Trajan's New Forum at Rome.
Trajan's arcade houses the Empire's leading dealers in fashion silks, jewels, and perfumes. This particular blend of scents is the apothecary's rarest product. Only the wealthiest, most fashionable people wear it."
"So, Surisca my dear, this woman was from Rome?" Suetonius enquired in a manner suggesting he already knew her likely response.
"I am not familiar with the Roman women at this encampment, master. But I do not need to because I am sure this was not a woman."
"Not a woman!?" Clarus lurched.
"No, my lords, the figure was the outline of a man," she clarified, "he was wearing a toga beneath the cape, and these days men of fashion wear strong perfumes too."
"By Zeus, who do we know at this godforsaken desert outpost who acquires products from Rome's leading emporia and wears a perfume which impacts the nostrils of those on the other side of a room?" Clarus asked rhetorically.
"Senator Lucius Ceionius Commodus!" several voices intoned together.
"So what was Commodus doing in Arrian's private chambers?" Suetonius added.
"Well, they weren't playing knucklebones," Clarus said. "Are Commodus and Arrian intimate? Did Arrian's boudoir debris tell us as much? But I thought Commodus was strictly Caesar's intimate friend? And a long term one at that. Perhaps that's why Arrian and Commodus weren't keen to be discovered together? Hadrian would be offended."
"Are we putting too grand an interpretation upon our intrusion?" Suetonius offered. "They may have been simply talking politics, trade, or of Caesar's mourning?"
"Or does Commodus aspire to fill Antinous's boots again?"
"My friend Septicius," Suetonius corrected him, "Commodus is now in his late-twenties. He is married at Rome to an equally noble patrician family with Imperial bloodlines. I am told his wife Avidia is currently pregnant with his child.".
"Yet what do we know about Commodus?" Clarus asked.
"Well, gossip tells he was Hadrian's lover at one time. Today he is a good looking fellow in his way. But in his late teens he was truly an elegant beauty, if somewhat feminine in his manner," Suetonius recalled from his days as Hadrian's secretary.
"He's also notorious for his sybaritic ways and love of luxury. I've heard he prefers to sleep amidst flower petals and Persian fragrances. It's said he holds extravagant dinner parties with inventive, if somewhat eccentric, dishes. He has a serving staff of very young boys with Cupid's wings attached to their shoulders to amuse his guests. He's irrepressible, if perhaps also irresponsible. His wife Avidia already complains about his sleeping around, which he justifies with his joke Pray allow me my indulgence with others because 'wife' is a term of respect, my dear, not of pleasure. Overall, he is a mixed bag of values."
"And this is the man Caesar wishes the Senate and the Legions to accept as his successor!" Clarus exclaimed.
"Strabon, I hope you recorded that quatrain which Arrian erased from your tablet," Suetonius interjected. "Please read it back to us again."
The scribe speedily rummaged through his wax tablets to retrieve the notepad recorded. He read aloud from his coded inscription.
"I've notated Arrian's reading of the translation as being — When the king of the lionhearted Toys with his man cub no more It is time for this lackey To return to.. no.. To restore his own pride."
"Fine, Strabon," Suetonius confirmed. "Tell me, gentlemen, who is the king of the lionhearted and who is the man cub or lackey? Identify who is doing the toying, and who is being toyed with? Who is this person who needs their pride restored? What hunter's game is being played here, my friends, and who precisely are the hunter and the hunted?"
CHAPTER 20
A tall slender woman swathed in fine silks with her shawl draped elegantly across her high-plaited hair to shade her against the midday sun trod gracefully in kidskin sandals from the riverside access jetty. She stepped with a securely confident gait up the sloping embankment path towards the waiting group of four.
She was accompanied a few paces behind by an officer of Caesar's Horse Guard acting as her protector in public places, with a slave holding a parasol high. All three had journeyed in an Imperial gondola from The Dionysus moored offshore nearby.
"Welcome, Lady Julia Balbilla of Commagene," Clarus intoned on her arrival. "You evidently received our message from Secretary Vestinus?"
The 30-ish year-old, fine-complexioned woman stepped beneath the shade of the lookout's enveloping sun umbrella and dipped a restrained curtsy. She drew back the veil from her face onto her shoulders to reveal unadorned features, clear skin, bright eyes, a piled hairstyle in the conservative aristocratic Roman matron's manner, and a confident but supremely polite manner.
"Greetings, Senator Gaius Septicius Clarus of Rome," she purred softly in purest Palatine Latin. "Gentlemen, in what way may I be of value to you, seeing you've requested my company?"
"My lady," Suetonius opened the interview, "we have been commissioned by Great Caesar to explore the circumstances of the death of his Companion of the Hunt, Antinous of Bithynia. We are instructed to determine the manner of the lad's death and by what path he came to it. We are hoping you can throw some light on the matter."
"Do you mean Caesar's Companion of the Hunt, Suetonius Tranquillus, or do you mean Caesar's eromenos? Or perhaps you really mean Caesar's catamite? Which definition suits you, Tranquillus?"
The elegant figure challenged the Special Inspector with a faintly deprecating, amused smile. Suetonius and Clarus choked.
"Caesar's eromenos, perhaps, my lady," Suetonius responded diplomatically.
"You need not be too polite in my company, gentlemen. I am not a delicate flower, easily crumpled. My Lady the Augustus and I have no illusions about Antinous and his allure to our imperial master. I'm told the fellow possessed definite enticements to very many at Court, though such attractions pass me by I'm afraid.
Yet we both certainly agree Antinous was a charming young man. Vibia Sabina and I enjoyed his conversation on many occasions, so we were very saddened to hear of his fate. He deserved better, we feel, despite being a foreigner diversion of no real consequence.
But I can see, Suetonius Tranquillus, you're still up to your old tricks. The past decade hasn't taught you much, has it, since your debacle with My Lady at Rome?"
"I don't know what you mean, madam," Suetonius lied as a bright flush swamped his features. Surisca took an enhanced interest in this dialog while Clarus shuffled his laced boots uncomfortably beneath his toga.
"All the ladies of court, Suetonius, were aware of your chauvinism, and probably still are. Even your wife or concubine, or whatever she was at the time, poor thing. She was your second partner, wasn't she? Did she leave you, like the first one?
But it was only when you decided to put your lechery to the test with Caesar's wife that the sky fell in, taking our good friend Septicius Clarus with you," the gentlewoman with the purebred accent and an almost imperceptible smile lobbed devastatingly.