'Your tears, I assume, are for your former patron Antinous?' Clarus probed, perhaps somewhat unnecessarily. Lysias's lip trembled.
'Yes,' he said simply.
'We are Senator Septicius Clarus, a magistrate to the Imperial Household, while I am Suetonius Tranquillus, Special Inspector into the death of Antinous. It is our duty under the seal of Caesar to investigate the circumstances of the Bithynian's death.'
'On behalf of Caesar?!' the youth declaimed daringly. 'You mean Lord Caesar does not know?!'
Clarus and Suetonius were startled by the provocation.
'Caesar has delegated this enquiry to us. We are obliged to interview you on the matter, as we are to interview all those involved with the deceased who might know something of the manner and reason for the youth's death. We possess the authority of law and its instruments of interrogation.'
Clarus was hinting not so delicately at the range of options open to their investigation, without actually mentioning the fiercest possibility. Suetonius coughed politely, to distract them from any mood of threat which might arise. Not formally being a citizen of Rome, Lysias was potentially subject to the more brutal forms of interrogation.
Suetonius interceded. 'I understand you are — you were — boyhood friends together?'
'Antinous and I have known each other since early childhood; we have known each other all our lives. We are friends.'
Lysias uttered this claim with its special emphasis on friends in a loaded manner. Suetonius mentally filed this comment for later exploration.
Glancing around the chamber, he realized how Antinous's apartments were probably not the place to interview Lysias.
'Gentlemen, I think we should retire to Secretary Vestinus' chambers to conduct this interview, don't you think?'
He looked at Clarus with an eyebrow raised. 'Besides, there'll be food and wine to enjoy,' he added. 'We are keen, Lysias, to learn more about your remarkable friend Antinous. I'm sure you will know many things about the youth which may assist us in determining the manner of the lad's death?'
He was interested to learn more about the dead youth's relationships and activities and where Caesar fitted- in to that. Separately, what was the precise nature of their relationship? Was Lysias an alternative lover of Antinous?
Suetonius thought something provocative might be a useful opener.
'Tell us, did Antinous sleep with others in this bedroom?'
Strabon lurched urgently to his writing tools and began fluttering a stylus across a notepad's wax surface.
'No, not at all,' the young Greek responded firmly. 'Antinous sleeps in this bed with none other than Caesar. He was Caesar's Companion. That was their compact. When Caesar was disposed elsewhere, Antinous slept here alone. And I can assure you it was not because he was without petitioners. Half the Court and even the eunuchs seemed eager to hop into bed with him.'
Suetonius was surprised to learn of this fidelity.
'Did you sleep close by last night, Lysias, the night of Antinous's drowning?' Clarus asked. 'Or did you sleep elsewhere?'
Lysias paused thoughtfully. His eyes flashed momentary pain.
'I remained on my bed next to this chamber all night.'
'Then you will know what times Antinous came and went through the night or morning? You will know something of his movements?' Clarus contributed.
Lysias paused again to consider his response. Strabon's stylus paused its fluttering.
'Antinous did not sleep in his chamber at all last night,' Lysias said at last with increasing emotion.
Clarus, Strabon, and Suetonius looked questioningly to each other. So Antinous had been elsewhere throughout the entire night?
'Where then, Lysias, do you think Antinous had been?' Suetonius asked.
'Elsewhere, I would assume,' he offered obliquely.
'Elsewhere? With Caesar?'
'I do not know,' was the simple reply.
Clarus cut across this line of questioning. Anything of proximity to Caesar made him uncomfortable. Caesar was not under investigation.
'It's time to return to our assigned apartments,' Clarus demanded. 'And it's time to take a formal record from this young man.'
'Join us, Lysias of Bithynia. We wish to take testimony from you.'
CHAPTER 6
Secretary Vestinus's tents were buzzing with activity and ablaze with light.
Chamberlain Alcibiades had returned with two slaves for the investigative team's service. Vestinus had assigned a further top-notch scribe to support Strabon in the wax-pad transcription chores, while the Praetorian Tribune Macedo had delegated the Alexandrian Centurion Quintus Urbicus to be an investigative agent to the team, accompanied by two troops.
Urbicus's translation skill had already proven useful with the fishermen. He seemed a sharp fellow suited to Suetonius's temper.
Standing in the background behind the two guards under Macedo's command was a further figure draped in a hooded travelling cloak and carrying a large carpetbag. When the figure dropped back its head cowl it revealed a mound of auburn hair dressed in the high woven style worn by ladies of fashion. Suetonius realized it was Surisca, the young entertainer from the House of the Blue Lotuses. His heart leapt a beat. His pulse raced. His groin stirred.
'The woman Surisca of Antioch,' announced Macedo. 'Delivered as demanded after considerable effort. It needed a team of twenty Guards and six ferrymen to traverse the Nile at night with flares, torches, and special skills to collect this female from her place of employ, negotiate a fee, and repeat the journey back to this encampment, at very considerable expense and danger to all.'
He was rubbing it in, probably justifiably.
'My officers had to buy out the fee for her client tonight, and a double fee for each day until we return her to her contractor, plus a large inconvenience fee. She wasn't cheap.'
Macedo announced this in Latin. He was certain Latin would not be her first language so it might pass her by. From the restraint expressed across her features, Suetonius suspected she clearly understood his words.
Surisca stood regally at the doorway to the rooms. She wore her bearing with unexpected dignity. She glanced around at the elegant luxury of this itinerant, fabric-built metropolis. Her eyes settled upon Suetonius across the chamber and, on recognizing him from only that very afternoon, smiled in a sweetly shy way that one wouldn't usually expect of an entertainer. Perhaps she had no idea who her purchaser had been, and was relieved to see a familiar face.
She was taller than Suetonius remembered and wasn't painted with her bordello colors. Her hair was held high by a Syriac headband and combs, but still folding down her back. She wore simple vestments more suited to the Forum than her whore-house duties, and with her ample bosom taped fulsomely in the Syrian way she looked more her real age of the high teens.
Her earlier skimpy costume, face paints, and tart's frivolous manner had added five years to her appearance at Hermopolis. Without the professional decors she presented a wholesomely healthy look, Suetonius mused. She was both more natural and more appealing to him at the same time. He spied Clarus, Vestinus, and Urbicus giving her a good looking over, and could sense their unspoken approval, perhaps even envy.
'Surisca, my dear!' he called as warmly as possible in Greek amid this nest of Latins, sounding as though the two had known each other for decades. 'Welcome to the Imperial Household!'
