A body shape was clearly evident beneath the folds. Was another corpse being eviscerated here, he wondered? Is there another death involved here?
'It is nothing, my lord, it is not to be considered,' the priest fumbled.
Suetonius took the Clarus approach to simply walk to the table to flip the covering away from its contents. The priest cried 'No, no, my lord!'
The Greek workman and his Egyptian assistant stood back smartly as the object beneath was revealed.
A figure of a human body carved into a single log of softwood was lying on the table. Its lower limbs were apparently still incomplete in mid-carve. Tools, chisels, and fine-edged razors lay nearby along with pots of paints and brushes.
The shape of the body conformed closely to the proportions of the figure of Antinous lying on the other bench. The head and facial features were already at an advanced stage of sculpting into a likeness of the Bithynian's face. Flesh-tone color had been applied to its surface.
'What is happening here, Greek?' Suetonius demanded. 'I am an investigator commissioned by the emperor, Caesar Hadrian. Who are you, and what is this effigy? Name yourself and your status.'
The Greek trembled before the man in the toga.
'I am Cronon of the Fayum, sir, registered in my nome as a freeborn artisan' he pleaded in Greek accented with the local guttural Egyptian dialect. 'I am a painter of images of the living and the dead, my lord. I prepare coffins with portraits of their inhabitants so the Land Of The Dead can identify the owners throughout posterity. It is my trade, my lord. I have been hired to create an exact portrait of his Great Worthiness, the god Antinous.'
The man was obviously a local born tradesman of Greek immigrant descent. Suetonius had seen such portraits of the Greeks and Romans of the Fayum Oasis and at Canopus in their prime of life which are painted onto coffins in anticipation of the day of their funeral. Many people retain these portraits instead of sculpted busts because they are very realistic likenesses. They are displayed in their homes as a record of their appearance at an earlier time of life.
'But what is it you are performing here? This is an effigy, not a painted image,' the biographer blurted. The man bowed and offered obeisance in an especially demeaning way for a Greek. He had acculturated well to Egyptian values, Suetonius thought.
'My lord, we are preparing an exact likeness of the god. It, it, it — ' he replied, but trailed away uncertainly. The priest interrupted.
'Sirs, Great Caesar and Priest Pachrates have commanded we possess a copy of the cadaver should the god decay beyond acceptance,' he said. 'We are creating a true likeness of Antinous of Bithynia. It is done in materials which will sustain exposure to the elements without decomposition. The likeness will be very accurate, my lord. It will be substituted for the fleshly body should spoiling overtake the god.'
'Oh,' Suetonius responded somewhat dismayed, 'I see. You are taking precautions against decay?' But somehow Suetonius was not entirely persuaded by these responses. Something was not ringing true. He waved to his companions to gather close out of earshot of the Egyptians.
'Does any of this make sense to us?' he asked, 'We have a corpse being eviscerated for priestly divination of its entrails. We have a wooden copy being prepared for its apparent replacement if decay sets in. And we have this magician Pachrates taking full control of the funeral rites in an antique Egyptian ceremony. I recall how Caesar was aghast at the prospect of any form of autopsy! Yet here we have a full-scale disemboweling underway? There's no consistency in this.'
Clarus raised a question.
'Can someone tell me, what they are on about when they talk about 'the god Antinous'?' he asked. 'In what way is Caesar's catamite a god?'
'Masters,' Surisca quietly interjected, 'with your permission, may I speak?'
They nodded grumpily in unison as people do when there's no alternative offering.
'It was today's street gossip at Hermopolis and among the ferrymen when I was traveling to your tent city how a marvelous omen had occurred. A true miracle of The Isia was being touted by the priests. I was told a special sacrifice had been made to the divinities. A very special man had drowned in the River Nile today, the first day of The Isia.
They say someone who drowns in the Nile as a sacrifice to Osiris during The Isia becomes Osiris Himself. It is a tradition. The sacrifice is a miracle which will protect against a poor flood next year. Osiris will protect us in exchange for the life of the sacrificed man.
Is it right to say that your dead friend might be the special sacrifice, the drowned man? If so, he has become the god Osiris on this auspicious day of The Isia.'
The four men glanced from one to the other. None articulated a word, yet each knew what the other was thinking. What is going on here? The coincidences are now becoming too obvious. The Nile floods badly; a sacrifice is called for. On the first day of The Isia Antinous conveniently drowns; etcetera. How much of this is accidental, they were asking themselves?
'May I now continue with my duties, great lords?' the priest asked. 'We must work at speed to combat decay, and my master awaits delivery of the sacred tissues.'
'I have two matters to address with the body, Egyptian,' Suetonius stated firmly, 'and I have a single question to ask of you and your workers. Firstly, I wish to inspect the wrists and neck of the deceased.'
Suetonius stepped closer to the cadaver of the youth lying askew on the table awash with waters and bodily residues. He pointed to the wrists of both hands.
The nearest worker lifted Antinous's arms for his inspection so he could achieve a closer view of each wrist. Clarus too moved nearer to view the wrists. Neither was marked or damaged. There was no incision. Yet Suetonius was convinced he had seen an incision when the same corpse lay on Hadrian's divan in his tents only seven or eight hours previously. The Praetorian Urbicus had confirmed the incision when he and his troops first retrieved the youth's body from its fishermen finders.
Suetonius looked across to Clarus who was equally as wide-eyed at the lack of an incision.
The Egyptian priest observed the two with some apparent concern but made no comment.
'Show me the lad's neck,' Suetonius demanded. 'Surisca, come closer,' he asked his honorary male associate.
She stepped forward to the table. 'I want you to see these markings and tell me what they are,' he asked, quite clearly recalling the several hickey-like bruises or decay blooms on the youth's throat from the earlier viewing.
Once again a worker lifted Antinous's head from the supporting woodblock pillow beneath his cranium. Again Clarus, Surisca, and Suetonius peered at the throat and neck of the youth. The markings which were clearly seen only hours earlier were no longer evident.
'What markings, master?' she asked.
Again, Clarus and Suetonius were wide-eyed. The workers were silent. Neither the wrist incision nor the roseate blemishes were visible.
'Egyptian,' Suetonius proclaimed in exasperation, 'we are dismayed. There were certain markings on this body only hours ago. And I'm not talking about the faint scar across the lad's left cheek.'
The priest simply smiled apologetically in feigned humility.
Surisca had an idea.
'May I, master?' she asked the biographer with her eyes firmly on the youth's neck, 'I think I have an answer.'
The courtesan with the full bosom, the luscious flood of hair, and the well-modulated voice wiped a single index finger across Antinous's throat. After checking her fingertip she held it up for the group to view. The tip was covered in a thin slime of pink-tinted fat. His throat was painted with a cosmetic in a fleshy color and dusted with powders to present a natural appearance.
Surisca then took a kerchief from her sash and wiped it carefully over Antinous's neck. A thin line of make-up paint wiped off revealing a streak of yellowed cadaver flesh beneath. It exposed several rosy blemishes.
These were the marks Suetonius recalled, but now the hickeys were no longer pale pink blazons on his throat, they were blue-gray bruises seeping into his tissue. Each was edged in a thin yellow rim. Perhaps corruption was underway?
Surisca continued to swab the paint and reveal the full extent of the bruising. She uncovered four love-bites
