Emperor Hadrian's personal motives are spurring him to become the most accomplished, talented, and controversial Roman emperor ever. As he rises to power through external, secretive machinations, Hadrian is driven by a lust for accomplishment and a search for provocative male companionship. Hadrian embarks on an epic journey across the vast expanse of his empire, encountering inspiring legends and unsuspecting dangers along the way. As his physical odyssey turns into a quest of self-discovery, he opens himself up to the ancient Mysteries of Eleusis, creates the architectural masterpiece of the Pantheon, and discovers love in an unexpected place. As Hadrian immerses himself in an enduring love affair with Antinous, a handsome and alluring young Greek man, their relationship acts as a catalyst that pushes Hadrian's dream of spiritually inspiring his populace to the forefront-though in ways the emperor never could have imagined. Blinded by Paradise is an intimate portrayal of a larger-than-life emperor suddenly faced with a life-altering decision to pursue either the beautiful realms of the Elysian Fields or the violent depths of Hell.

Blinded by Paradise

The Rise and Fall of HadrianBy Christopher Rimare

iUniverse, Inc.

Copyright © 2010 Christopher Rimare
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4502-5692-6

Chapter One

THE SHACKLED CROCODILE

Augustus 6–8 Twentieth Year of Trajan's Reign

A pair of hands soon to be fifty years old took a goose-feathered quill from across a table and dipped it into an inkwell before entrusting the quill to a more youthful set of hands. A left forefinger from the older pair of hands uncurled and pointed to a spot on a sheet of vellum parchment. "Begin here," said the woman as two olive-colored eyes locked onto a young man seated before her.

As the boy drew the quill across the vellum, the woman's left hand twitched at her side, as if she were writing out the words herself. Her right hand, however, remained clasped behind her, fingernails imbedded in her palm. That was, until both of her hands lurched on top of his and she shouted out, "Stop!"

"No. Let's start again. The letters shouldn't be so secure. They should look as if they have some—hesitancy—about them."

And so the woman grabbed the aborted sheet and set it aflame, letting it burn down to her fingertips. Then she took another parchment and placed it in front of the servant. Although this new sheet was as yet unsullied, her left hand pointed to precisely the same spot as before. "Begin here," she commanded.

The servant's hand scarcely got beyond copying the second line of text when the woman blurted out, "Better! But your spacing between the words is too rhythmical. It should be very measured in one pairing, yet spurious in another. Yes? So, again."

"Ma'am, if I may?" asked the man with a hint of growth on his chin, gesturing to the document from which he was copying. "What is wrong with the original? Your penmanship is impeccable."

"I appreciate the compliment," replied the woman in a patronizing tone, though she quickly masked any further edge to her voice by adding in a tempered manner, "It's because it is impeccable that it won't do. Not for this task." Then the woman leaned over and brushed her lips against the back of the boy's hands as she continued on, "No, this is one of those times when only a man's hand will do. So we are depending, nay, expecting your hands to more than rise to the occasion."

The young man's knees quivered as the woman's lips lingered on his hands. It was only after she withdrew her mouth that he was able to regain his focus.

When the woman saw the servant dip his quill into the inkwell and attack the vellum with vigor, she concealed a grimace as best she could.

And so they tried. Again and again. And each time they progressed a little further, though never to a conclusion.

On the fifth attempt, as the woman was using a discarded sheet to light the candles surrounding her desk, the boy sputtered out in frustration, "Ma'am? We started when the sun was still in the horizon. Yet here we are, in need of our own light now. How many times are we going to try this?"

The woman was offended by the inappropriateness of his question. "Until you get it right!" she snapped back.

It was only on the seventh attempt that the young man was able to make it to the last of the words. And as he wrote out those final characters, the woman sneaked behind him and slipped her left hand beneath his tunic. She felt for his right breast, pressed her fingers into his tendons, and released her hold only after he completed the last stroke of his quill. Then she kissed him on the nape of the neck and whispered out in Gallic, "Beautiful."

She pulled her hand from beneath his shirt and rolled the vellum up into a tight tube. Still behind him, she reached for the nearest candle and motioned for the young man to take it. Then she wrapped her right hand over his and guided him as he slowly turned the flickering white candle, letting its hot wax drip down onto the seam of the shaft of paper.

The young man eyed the congealing wax with a sense of relief.

The woman raised a hand to stamp the wax with the back of a gold ring she was wearing. Her hand froze in midair. In her haste, she almost made a mistake. A huge, irrevocable mistake. Without showing any apparent distress, she went over to an enamel box resting on a shelf and pulled out an overly large ring. After returning to her desk, she pressed this second ring into the soft milky wax binding the letter together.

"Now," she sighed, "we only need one more copy."

The young man, determined not to repeat his past mistakes, was able to produce a second document after only two drafts. It too was sealed as the first.

Once both rolls were lying safely on the table, the woman placed the oversized ring on one of her fingers. Then she made sure she burned the original document, the one with her writing on it. "You will enjoy being an official scribe now, Gaius, instead of a valet," the woman said as she attached a silver-disked pin to the top of the servant's tunic and placed a not so inconsequential amount of coins into his hands. "Roma will greatly benefit from your elevated status."

"Will she now?" he coyly replied.

"Yes," the woman responded as her lips imparted a kiss on his. But then she steeled her nerves and continued, "Furthermore, I hear the isle of Melita is in need of someone of your talents. Roma will take great pleasure in knowing you are enjoying yourself in such an agreeable locale. So agreeable, in fact, you will entirely forget us here and our time together. Roma will never see your eyes again, and more importantly, never hear your lovely voice again."

Gaius' first impulse was to let out a laugh. However, that was stifled when he saw the change in the woman's countenance. Instead, a look of puzzlement came over his face and he felt an overwhelming urge to leave. Succumbing to this latter urge, Gaius seized the money and bolted out of the room, leaving the door wide open behind him.

One of the woman's maidservants tried to take advantage of the opportunity to enter the imperial quarters. The woman would allow nothing of the sort and slammed the door on her servant. "Crepida," she shouted through the door, "fetch me the couriers Manius and Aulus!"

"My lady," Crepida shouted back, "I think they've already retired for the night!"

The woman eased the door open just enough for her chin and mouth to poke through. "Crepida. I don't think you heard me clearly. I said, 'Fetch me Manius and Aulus right away.'" Then she slammed the door again.

Once she heard the sound of Crepida's footsteps go down the hall, Plotina leaned against the back of the door, raised her head toward the ceiling, and closed her eyes.

Plotina was startled when she heard the sounds of knocks coming from the other side of the door. She must have kept her eyes shut for far longer than she had dared risk.

"Augusta! It's Manius and Aulus. You sent for us!"

Plotina regained her composure and wedged the door open, but only wide enough to let herself wiggle through with her two precious documents. "Deliver this with all haste to the Roman Senate," she said, handing over one of the sealed rolls to Aulus. "And lest there be any doubt about its urgency," Plotina added as she placed some coins in Aulus' welcoming hands, "these will ensure you make it there before two fortnights have passed."

"And you, my young Achilles," said Plotina as she gave Manius the second roll, "Antiochia awaits your...