Fic: Worthy of Your Soul 8/WIP
Title: Worthy of Your Soul 8/WIP
Author: trust_n0_1
Rating: PG13
Summary: Hephaistion is asked by Philip to spy on Alexander and finds himself between a rock and a hard place.
Copyright: © Trust No One August 2006
A/N: Heartfelt thanks to my Beta Fiona, whose superb skills have helped shape this story.
Eight
Eight more days passed before Hephaistion was recovered enough to become an ill-tempered patient, who had to be kept from getting out of bed and constantly complained about ingesting Alexander’s vile tasting medicine. The fever came and went twice more before the next week was out, but Hephaistion’s strong constitution helped and where another would have convalesced longer, the youth was well on his way to restored health. He was still supposed to be taking rest so it was not without a certain alarm that Alexander stuck his head into Hephaistion’s room one late morning only to be greeted by an empty bed and a slave who swept the floor obliviously.
There were only two places Hephaistion could have gone to, especially in his recuperating condition. Alexander knew that Leonnatus, Perdikkas and Ptolemy, who had again served as Alexander’s escort, only too happy to duck a few days of lessons, often visited Hephaistion and more than made up for the lack of company that Alexander himself had offered. The three would not be with him now, since Alexander had just left them, ignoring the strange looks that they passed around. None of his friends really understood anymore or even dared to qualify the now-hot, now-cold demeanour of the prince towards what they all believed was his lover. Alexander had not bothered to explain and was all the happier for it because he himself did not fully understand his heart. For this reason chiefly, Alexander had followed the reverse pattern of Hephaistion’s fever and was mostly by his friend’s bedside when Hephaistion lay miserable and feverish only to invoke a perfectly plausible excuse and disappear at any sign of improvement. He had seen the pain and frustration in Hephaistion’s eyes. He had felt the sting on Hephaistion’s tongue, but had seen it bitten down. He knew just how Hephaistion ached to tell him what he had wanted to say the first day but that he was holding back until Alexander gave him the slightest sign that he was ready to listen. Curiosity chewed steadily at Alexander, but he willed it away in a display of obstinacy that by now surely had Hephaistion suspecting that Alexander was seeking to punish him.
The royal stables were the first place that Alexander checked, as it was the only other likely place for Hephaistion to have taken an excursion from bed. Hephaistion loved his horse, a gift he had received from his father mere months before Amyntor had passed away unexpectedly. Often since then, Alexander had seen Hephaistion taking a simple pleasure in grooming the mount himself and braiding his mane in the way he had seen his father do, or just feeding him an apple and talking to him softly, moments that Alexander himself had felt inappropriate to intrude upon. It would be understandable that Hephaistion would want to visit the horse even though Alexander had told him that he had arranged for the proper care. Had it been Boukephalas, Alexander would have done the same.
He was not wrong, for even before he reached the stall where Hephaistion’s horse was stabled, he heard his friend’s voice. The usual clamor of hooves, grooms and riders’ voices typical at that time of day was muted as most of the horses that were not out on cavalry maneuvers had been let out in the paddock to take advantage of the warming weather. The grooms carried on their work in relative silence so Hephaistion’s voice carried clear and almost devoid of the roughness that plagued him during his illness.
‘… and he will not grudge me taking him out after such a long time,’ Hephaistion was saying to his yet unseen companion. ‘Alexander told me that he’s been lunged and groomed but I can see that he missed me… steady, boy… don’t stamp your foot, be patient…’
‘He’s raring to go, now that he’s seen you,’ the other voice said, deeper and more resonant than Hephaistion’s youthful one. At once, Alexander recognized it as belonging to Cleitus and instead of making himself seen, he hung back almost instinctively, checking his surroundings briefly lest some stable boy caught the prince spying. Full of interest and growing increasingly intrigued, Alexander listened.
‘He will do well on the road,’ Cleitus continued. ‘And he will not balk on the ship either.’
‘I hope so,’ Hephaistion answered a little uncertainly. Silence reigned for a time and Alexander heard nothing more than the steady rhythm of the grooming brush against the horse’s flanks.
‘Something is troubling you,’ Cleitus said after a while, no doubt prompted by Hephaistion’s silence.
‘This…,’ Alexander imagined Hephaistion waving his hand in a random sweep, ‘this has all happened so fast. Last night…it was unexpected.’
Alexander felt an inhuman chill coursing through him. The previous night, he had been having dinner with his father. A dinner from which Cleitus, a fixture at Philip’s private dinners, had been conspicuously absent. What was Hephaistion talking about? Had he… been with Cleitus?
‘You need not worry,’ Cleitus said almost soothingly. ‘The King trusts me and he has had a good reason to let me be the one.’
‘I know,’ came the dry reply. ‘I could have thought of no-one better myself. It’s just that … I didn’t think it was going to come to this.’ Hephaistion paused then Alexander heard the clear sound of a horse whinny and teeth biting into an apple. ‘He’s missed this.’ Mirth returned to some degree to the youth’s voice.
‘Still, something is amiss with you, it is plain to see. Don’t change the subject’
A pause, then Hephaistion sighed. ‘Indeed, there is something. Especially now, that I don’t have all that much time left.’
‘Have you told Alexander yet?’
‘Alexander…,’ Hephaistion sighed, ‘I meant to tell him, every single day while I was sick, only he would not remain still long enough for me to open my mouth.’ Hephaistion’s voice wove with sorrow, not tinged with the overt bitterness that Alexander had seen in him. ‘Every time I tried to start a serious conversation, he conjured up an excuse and was gone before I knew what hit me.’
‘He needs to hear it - and from you, not from anyone else. After tomorrow at least some of it will be public knowledge and even if the details will be kept private, you still owe it to him.’
‘You think I don’t know?’ Hephaistion cried. ‘Though, to be honest, it has crossed my mind that he is simply not interested anymore, that since this whole business started, he has distanced himself from me on purpose.’
‘But why? I was certainly under the impression that you two were the closest of companions?’
‘We’ve had some… ah… strain..’ Hephaistion explained as diplomatically and matter-of-factly as he could but Alexander sensed his effort to sound casual.
‘Well, if certain rumours are to be believed,’ Cleitus countered a little wickedly, ‘I’d have thought that whatever strain you two went through was put behind you when Alexander arrived here. Why, only the other day that snot-nose Philotas was saying how you ran away from Mieza and how Alexander wasted no time in chasing after you like you were a prized stallion.’
‘I wish,’ Hephaistion said bitterly, ‘at least that rumour were true. But Alexander is not one to run after anyone. It is up to me to make him listen, and if I cannot, then maybe he is not meant to listen after all.’
‘Come on, pup,’ Cleitus’ tone was invigorating and meant to uplift Hephaistion’s gloom, ‘things are never as bad as they look. Look on the bright side: you’re a clever young lad and you’ve managed to get yourself out of a tricky situation with the King. If you’ve gotten into a row with your lover, well, he’ll come around in the end. And if he doesn’t, it’s his loss. There are plenty who would want you to warm their bed.’
Alexander did not need to see Cleitus’ expression to imagine the wolfish grin on his face.
‘By Hades, Cleitus,’ Hephaistion exclaimed silkily, ‘you wouldn’t happen to be one of those now, would you?’
‘I could be corrupted, who knows,’ Cleitus answered in the same vein, but Alexander was not fooled.
‘Nah, surely not one as virtuous as yourself,’ Hephaistion countered. He had learned to brush off or punch away at the other youths’ teasing at Mieza, but Alexander did not expect him to have acquired quite this much smoothness. Why such familiarity from Cleitus and why did Hephaistion return it in full measure?
Alexander felt his heart drop into his stomach while the breakfast he’d eaten made its way upwards fast and he stopped himself from heaving out loud only with great effort. He’d heard enough even though he was aware that it was only a fragment of the conversation. But it was the consuming desire he felt to leap at Cleitus and cleave him in two that worried the prince. He no longer harboured great doubts about his feelings towards Hephaistion, but to feel such savage jealousy at the mere thought of Hephaistion with Cleitus - to the exclusion of everything else that had happened lately - had his heart lurch in fear. Was Philip right? Would Hephaistion rule him through the power he held over him, whether he knew it or not?
Hephaistion was right in saying that he avoided a serious conversation. Alexander had offered his friend medicine and had gone to look in on him several times in a day, yet seldom spending more than a few minutes at his side. More than once he had cut Hephaistion off when he had wanted to talk more seriously, making it plain that he was not prepared to listen yet.
In the first days, it had been sheer stubbornness that had prevented him from hearing Hephaistion’s story. But as time progressed, something more frightening happened: Alexander began to realize that it did not really matter much; that in spite of all that had happened, he loathed the fact that he was estranged from Hephaistion. He gave some thought to his reaction when he had found out that Hephaistion was keeping a secret and realized just how childish he had been. What seemed like ages ago now, they’d lain together in his bed and Hephaistion had told him that there was something he was not ready to talk about. It had been so natural for Alexander to grant his friend’s wish and understand. Why then had he reacted so badly when he had indeed found out what it was? Was it because he had heard it from Cassander and just assumed that Hephaistion was never going to tell him?
Could he now point a finger at Hephaistion for trying to make amends with the king and enter into whatever agreement Philip had mentioned? Could he even blame Hephaistion if he decided that his chances with Alexander had come to nothing and he turned to someone like Cleitus?
Where in all hells had he lost Hephaistion along the way? Why had he been so obstinately steering away from having a conversation with his best friend when in all likelihood Hephaistion was trying to tell him something important? He was so engrossed in his meditation that he did not hear the flutter of movement beside him.
‘Alexander, what are you doing here?’ The voice ruptured the cocoon of uncertainty and Alexander looked up to find it replaced by shame under the scrutinizing, half-amused gaze of Cleitus the Black.
‘Looking for Hephaistion. Is he here?’ Alexander’s clipped tone sounded a lot more strident than intended and it was blatantly clear that it did nothing to fool Cleitus.
Hephaistion stepped out of the stall; eyes alight at the sound of the prince’s voice. Before any of them had a chance to say anything, Cleitus rounded the prince, slapping him on the back on his way out.
‘You lads need to talk.’
Alexander’s head spun around and followed the older man’s retreating steps, wishing that he would disappear quicker.
‘You’re not going to run away this time, are you?’ Hephaistion’s reproof stung for a moment, for it was not far from the truth, but then the righteousness bubbled up to the surface and Alexander retorted.
‘No, actually I went looking for you when I did not find you in your room.’ His voice had maintained its composure in spite of the somersaults that his stomach had started making anew.
‘Good then, here I am.’ Hephaistion crossed his arms expectantly on his chest and fixed Alexander with clear eyes.
Alexander had seen Hephaistion in that belligerent stance before and it told him that he was ready to take this as far as it would go. His eyes glittered dangerously.
‘No, you go first, Hephaistion,’ Alexander challenged. ‘Tell me what you’ve been burning to say all this time. Tell me what even Cleitus knows and it’s not privileged enough for my ears! Tell me about last night!’
‘Last night?’ Hephaistion looked clearly confused, his defiance disturbed. ‘What about last night?’
‘I heard you talk to Cleitus about it as I arrived,’ Alexander said fiercely.
‘Don’t start with me again!’ Angrily, Hephaistion threw the grooming brush aside, the sudden clang of wood on wood frightening his horse. He bore his gaze into Alexander’s, his face reddening from growing anger. ‘I’ve wanted to talk to you - really talk to you - ever since I opened my eyes and found you here. Only you never stayed long enough for me to even begin a conversation. In the one minute, out the next. Better than any healer at administering the medicine and just as bloody silent. But you will hear it now - whether you wish to stay here or have me run after you. I am strong enough for that now!’
Alexander’s jaw gritted and released and he seemed uncertain, almost as if he was considering the possibility of having Hephaistion rushing after him, clamoring for his attention. But he was not allowed his choice in the end as Hephaistion seized his hands and pushed him backwards until Alexander’s back collided with the wooden wall. He let himself be pushed without a word.
Hephaistion began to talk, his long steely fingers shackling Alexander’s wrists, afraid that the prince might bolt and disappear before he finished. He allowed no interruptions, nor did Alexander utter a word until Hephaistion was through with recounting the events of the past days: every word of his conversation with Philip, every line of the letter he had sent to Athens. A mixture of anger, frustration, wonderment and determination passed across Alexander’s face like clear water muddied by an army’s feet disturbing a riverbed.
‘And last night,’ Hephaistion concluded, breathless from the harried pace at which he had spoken ‘a lot sooner than I thought, a reply arrived from Athens. Not from my uncle Philon, but from Perikles himself, who took great risks in sending this message. My uncle has gone into hiding, afraid that whoever ordered my father killed would get to him as well. He has smuggled his family out of Athens and no one, not even Perikles, knows where he is, although they are keeping in contact. Perikles says that it is better like that, it removes the danger of coercing the information out of those who might know. Philon has sent word to Perikles and has requested through him that his family be brought to Macedon and given sanctuary here. That is his price for continuing to supply information.’
‘And where does Cleitus fit in here?’ Alexander asked the question half afraid of the answer, although after processing the information that Hephaistion had given him, logic dictated that there was nothing untoward such as he had first suspected from their conversation.
‘Cleitus is to command an armed escort and we are to retrieve Philon’s family from the Peloponnese and bring them here. I shall go with him since I am the only member of my father’s family that they will trust. Once we have them safe here and living on my family estate, Philon will be informed and Perikles will continue to supply information through him.’
When Hephaistion stopped speaking, Alexander became aware that the noise level had increased. Horses were being brought back from exercise and stable boys and slaves had started milling about. Alexander might have winced at the image they made with Hephaistion holding him fast by his wrists and talking so intently and uncaring of the world around them. A thought might have crossed his mind had he not been too entirely absorbed by the revelations his friend had made. He felt Hephaistion’s hands unfastening from around his wrists and for a second he mourned the loss of their warm grasp. At the same time, he became aware of the short, almost frightened puffs of breath that they both let out, as if they had run a tight, miles-long foot race.
‘I am sorry about your father,’ Alexander said quietly.
‘When Philip told me, it felt like I had lost him all over again,’ Hephaistion’s voice dropped in sorrow.
‘I wish that you’d shared all this with me sooner,’ Alexander spoke quietly, every word carefully chosen. ‘You carried this burden alone and it was meant to be shared. It seems that we have both misunderstood a lot about each other’s intentions,’ he said quietly, his eyes glittering like beads and yet incapable of letting loose the rush of elation, mixed with anger and relief that was swimming towards the surface, grappling for a chance to burst into the open. ‘I thought you trusted me enough to share anything with me.’
Hephaistion’s face darkened with an emotion that Alexander could not read.
‘I did not trust myself enough to be worthy of you,’ he said finally, letting out a long breath, like a man who had shared his last, most sacrilegious secret. ‘I would have gladly died before disappointing you or losing our friendship. But I did not want you to remember me in wrath, or worse, in disappointment. It is why I had to do this, myself.’
Alexander nodded. Silence stood between them but not nearly as uncomfortable as it had been the past few weeks back and, as if a spell was broken, the young men stood looking at each other, aware of their surroundings.
‘I think we had better leave,’ Hephaistion said in as casual a tone as he could muster. ‘We are riding out at dawn and…’
‘Of course, you’re right,’ Alexander agreed as they walked side by side and exited the main stable building. ‘How many men are we taking?’
Hephaistion looked confused. ‘We?’
‘Yes,’ Alexander replied a little irritably. ‘You didn’t think that now that I know I would let you go alone.’
‘Philip would never allow you to come along,’ Hephaistion protested. ‘This is hardly an important mission, escorting a bunch of women and children to safety.’
‘Then,’ Alexander smiled slyly, ‘all the more reason for my father not to deny me.’
Previous Parts:
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Author: trust_n0_1
Rating: PG13
Summary: Hephaistion is asked by Philip to spy on Alexander and finds himself between a rock and a hard place.
Copyright: © Trust No One August 2006
A/N: Heartfelt thanks to my Beta Fiona, whose superb skills have helped shape this story.
Eight
Eight more days passed before Hephaistion was recovered enough to become an ill-tempered patient, who had to be kept from getting out of bed and constantly complained about ingesting Alexander’s vile tasting medicine. The fever came and went twice more before the next week was out, but Hephaistion’s strong constitution helped and where another would have convalesced longer, the youth was well on his way to restored health. He was still supposed to be taking rest so it was not without a certain alarm that Alexander stuck his head into Hephaistion’s room one late morning only to be greeted by an empty bed and a slave who swept the floor obliviously.
There were only two places Hephaistion could have gone to, especially in his recuperating condition. Alexander knew that Leonnatus, Perdikkas and Ptolemy, who had again served as Alexander’s escort, only too happy to duck a few days of lessons, often visited Hephaistion and more than made up for the lack of company that Alexander himself had offered. The three would not be with him now, since Alexander had just left them, ignoring the strange looks that they passed around. None of his friends really understood anymore or even dared to qualify the now-hot, now-cold demeanour of the prince towards what they all believed was his lover. Alexander had not bothered to explain and was all the happier for it because he himself did not fully understand his heart. For this reason chiefly, Alexander had followed the reverse pattern of Hephaistion’s fever and was mostly by his friend’s bedside when Hephaistion lay miserable and feverish only to invoke a perfectly plausible excuse and disappear at any sign of improvement. He had seen the pain and frustration in Hephaistion’s eyes. He had felt the sting on Hephaistion’s tongue, but had seen it bitten down. He knew just how Hephaistion ached to tell him what he had wanted to say the first day but that he was holding back until Alexander gave him the slightest sign that he was ready to listen. Curiosity chewed steadily at Alexander, but he willed it away in a display of obstinacy that by now surely had Hephaistion suspecting that Alexander was seeking to punish him.
The royal stables were the first place that Alexander checked, as it was the only other likely place for Hephaistion to have taken an excursion from bed. Hephaistion loved his horse, a gift he had received from his father mere months before Amyntor had passed away unexpectedly. Often since then, Alexander had seen Hephaistion taking a simple pleasure in grooming the mount himself and braiding his mane in the way he had seen his father do, or just feeding him an apple and talking to him softly, moments that Alexander himself had felt inappropriate to intrude upon. It would be understandable that Hephaistion would want to visit the horse even though Alexander had told him that he had arranged for the proper care. Had it been Boukephalas, Alexander would have done the same.
He was not wrong, for even before he reached the stall where Hephaistion’s horse was stabled, he heard his friend’s voice. The usual clamor of hooves, grooms and riders’ voices typical at that time of day was muted as most of the horses that were not out on cavalry maneuvers had been let out in the paddock to take advantage of the warming weather. The grooms carried on their work in relative silence so Hephaistion’s voice carried clear and almost devoid of the roughness that plagued him during his illness.
‘… and he will not grudge me taking him out after such a long time,’ Hephaistion was saying to his yet unseen companion. ‘Alexander told me that he’s been lunged and groomed but I can see that he missed me… steady, boy… don’t stamp your foot, be patient…’
‘He’s raring to go, now that he’s seen you,’ the other voice said, deeper and more resonant than Hephaistion’s youthful one. At once, Alexander recognized it as belonging to Cleitus and instead of making himself seen, he hung back almost instinctively, checking his surroundings briefly lest some stable boy caught the prince spying. Full of interest and growing increasingly intrigued, Alexander listened.
‘He will do well on the road,’ Cleitus continued. ‘And he will not balk on the ship either.’
‘I hope so,’ Hephaistion answered a little uncertainly. Silence reigned for a time and Alexander heard nothing more than the steady rhythm of the grooming brush against the horse’s flanks.
‘Something is troubling you,’ Cleitus said after a while, no doubt prompted by Hephaistion’s silence.
‘This…,’ Alexander imagined Hephaistion waving his hand in a random sweep, ‘this has all happened so fast. Last night…it was unexpected.’
Alexander felt an inhuman chill coursing through him. The previous night, he had been having dinner with his father. A dinner from which Cleitus, a fixture at Philip’s private dinners, had been conspicuously absent. What was Hephaistion talking about? Had he… been with Cleitus?
‘You need not worry,’ Cleitus said almost soothingly. ‘The King trusts me and he has had a good reason to let me be the one.’
‘I know,’ came the dry reply. ‘I could have thought of no-one better myself. It’s just that … I didn’t think it was going to come to this.’ Hephaistion paused then Alexander heard the clear sound of a horse whinny and teeth biting into an apple. ‘He’s missed this.’ Mirth returned to some degree to the youth’s voice.
‘Still, something is amiss with you, it is plain to see. Don’t change the subject’
A pause, then Hephaistion sighed. ‘Indeed, there is something. Especially now, that I don’t have all that much time left.’
‘Have you told Alexander yet?’
‘Alexander…,’ Hephaistion sighed, ‘I meant to tell him, every single day while I was sick, only he would not remain still long enough for me to open my mouth.’ Hephaistion’s voice wove with sorrow, not tinged with the overt bitterness that Alexander had seen in him. ‘Every time I tried to start a serious conversation, he conjured up an excuse and was gone before I knew what hit me.’
‘He needs to hear it - and from you, not from anyone else. After tomorrow at least some of it will be public knowledge and even if the details will be kept private, you still owe it to him.’
‘You think I don’t know?’ Hephaistion cried. ‘Though, to be honest, it has crossed my mind that he is simply not interested anymore, that since this whole business started, he has distanced himself from me on purpose.’
‘But why? I was certainly under the impression that you two were the closest of companions?’
‘We’ve had some… ah… strain..’ Hephaistion explained as diplomatically and matter-of-factly as he could but Alexander sensed his effort to sound casual.
‘Well, if certain rumours are to be believed,’ Cleitus countered a little wickedly, ‘I’d have thought that whatever strain you two went through was put behind you when Alexander arrived here. Why, only the other day that snot-nose Philotas was saying how you ran away from Mieza and how Alexander wasted no time in chasing after you like you were a prized stallion.’
‘I wish,’ Hephaistion said bitterly, ‘at least that rumour were true. But Alexander is not one to run after anyone. It is up to me to make him listen, and if I cannot, then maybe he is not meant to listen after all.’
‘Come on, pup,’ Cleitus’ tone was invigorating and meant to uplift Hephaistion’s gloom, ‘things are never as bad as they look. Look on the bright side: you’re a clever young lad and you’ve managed to get yourself out of a tricky situation with the King. If you’ve gotten into a row with your lover, well, he’ll come around in the end. And if he doesn’t, it’s his loss. There are plenty who would want you to warm their bed.’
Alexander did not need to see Cleitus’ expression to imagine the wolfish grin on his face.
‘By Hades, Cleitus,’ Hephaistion exclaimed silkily, ‘you wouldn’t happen to be one of those now, would you?’
‘I could be corrupted, who knows,’ Cleitus answered in the same vein, but Alexander was not fooled.
‘Nah, surely not one as virtuous as yourself,’ Hephaistion countered. He had learned to brush off or punch away at the other youths’ teasing at Mieza, but Alexander did not expect him to have acquired quite this much smoothness. Why such familiarity from Cleitus and why did Hephaistion return it in full measure?
Alexander felt his heart drop into his stomach while the breakfast he’d eaten made its way upwards fast and he stopped himself from heaving out loud only with great effort. He’d heard enough even though he was aware that it was only a fragment of the conversation. But it was the consuming desire he felt to leap at Cleitus and cleave him in two that worried the prince. He no longer harboured great doubts about his feelings towards Hephaistion, but to feel such savage jealousy at the mere thought of Hephaistion with Cleitus - to the exclusion of everything else that had happened lately - had his heart lurch in fear. Was Philip right? Would Hephaistion rule him through the power he held over him, whether he knew it or not?
Hephaistion was right in saying that he avoided a serious conversation. Alexander had offered his friend medicine and had gone to look in on him several times in a day, yet seldom spending more than a few minutes at his side. More than once he had cut Hephaistion off when he had wanted to talk more seriously, making it plain that he was not prepared to listen yet.
In the first days, it had been sheer stubbornness that had prevented him from hearing Hephaistion’s story. But as time progressed, something more frightening happened: Alexander began to realize that it did not really matter much; that in spite of all that had happened, he loathed the fact that he was estranged from Hephaistion. He gave some thought to his reaction when he had found out that Hephaistion was keeping a secret and realized just how childish he had been. What seemed like ages ago now, they’d lain together in his bed and Hephaistion had told him that there was something he was not ready to talk about. It had been so natural for Alexander to grant his friend’s wish and understand. Why then had he reacted so badly when he had indeed found out what it was? Was it because he had heard it from Cassander and just assumed that Hephaistion was never going to tell him?
Could he now point a finger at Hephaistion for trying to make amends with the king and enter into whatever agreement Philip had mentioned? Could he even blame Hephaistion if he decided that his chances with Alexander had come to nothing and he turned to someone like Cleitus?
Where in all hells had he lost Hephaistion along the way? Why had he been so obstinately steering away from having a conversation with his best friend when in all likelihood Hephaistion was trying to tell him something important? He was so engrossed in his meditation that he did not hear the flutter of movement beside him.
‘Alexander, what are you doing here?’ The voice ruptured the cocoon of uncertainty and Alexander looked up to find it replaced by shame under the scrutinizing, half-amused gaze of Cleitus the Black.
‘Looking for Hephaistion. Is he here?’ Alexander’s clipped tone sounded a lot more strident than intended and it was blatantly clear that it did nothing to fool Cleitus.
Hephaistion stepped out of the stall; eyes alight at the sound of the prince’s voice. Before any of them had a chance to say anything, Cleitus rounded the prince, slapping him on the back on his way out.
‘You lads need to talk.’
Alexander’s head spun around and followed the older man’s retreating steps, wishing that he would disappear quicker.
‘You’re not going to run away this time, are you?’ Hephaistion’s reproof stung for a moment, for it was not far from the truth, but then the righteousness bubbled up to the surface and Alexander retorted.
‘No, actually I went looking for you when I did not find you in your room.’ His voice had maintained its composure in spite of the somersaults that his stomach had started making anew.
‘Good then, here I am.’ Hephaistion crossed his arms expectantly on his chest and fixed Alexander with clear eyes.
Alexander had seen Hephaistion in that belligerent stance before and it told him that he was ready to take this as far as it would go. His eyes glittered dangerously.
‘No, you go first, Hephaistion,’ Alexander challenged. ‘Tell me what you’ve been burning to say all this time. Tell me what even Cleitus knows and it’s not privileged enough for my ears! Tell me about last night!’
‘Last night?’ Hephaistion looked clearly confused, his defiance disturbed. ‘What about last night?’
‘I heard you talk to Cleitus about it as I arrived,’ Alexander said fiercely.
‘Don’t start with me again!’ Angrily, Hephaistion threw the grooming brush aside, the sudden clang of wood on wood frightening his horse. He bore his gaze into Alexander’s, his face reddening from growing anger. ‘I’ve wanted to talk to you - really talk to you - ever since I opened my eyes and found you here. Only you never stayed long enough for me to even begin a conversation. In the one minute, out the next. Better than any healer at administering the medicine and just as bloody silent. But you will hear it now - whether you wish to stay here or have me run after you. I am strong enough for that now!’
Alexander’s jaw gritted and released and he seemed uncertain, almost as if he was considering the possibility of having Hephaistion rushing after him, clamoring for his attention. But he was not allowed his choice in the end as Hephaistion seized his hands and pushed him backwards until Alexander’s back collided with the wooden wall. He let himself be pushed without a word.
Hephaistion began to talk, his long steely fingers shackling Alexander’s wrists, afraid that the prince might bolt and disappear before he finished. He allowed no interruptions, nor did Alexander utter a word until Hephaistion was through with recounting the events of the past days: every word of his conversation with Philip, every line of the letter he had sent to Athens. A mixture of anger, frustration, wonderment and determination passed across Alexander’s face like clear water muddied by an army’s feet disturbing a riverbed.
‘And last night,’ Hephaistion concluded, breathless from the harried pace at which he had spoken ‘a lot sooner than I thought, a reply arrived from Athens. Not from my uncle Philon, but from Perikles himself, who took great risks in sending this message. My uncle has gone into hiding, afraid that whoever ordered my father killed would get to him as well. He has smuggled his family out of Athens and no one, not even Perikles, knows where he is, although they are keeping in contact. Perikles says that it is better like that, it removes the danger of coercing the information out of those who might know. Philon has sent word to Perikles and has requested through him that his family be brought to Macedon and given sanctuary here. That is his price for continuing to supply information.’
‘And where does Cleitus fit in here?’ Alexander asked the question half afraid of the answer, although after processing the information that Hephaistion had given him, logic dictated that there was nothing untoward such as he had first suspected from their conversation.
‘Cleitus is to command an armed escort and we are to retrieve Philon’s family from the Peloponnese and bring them here. I shall go with him since I am the only member of my father’s family that they will trust. Once we have them safe here and living on my family estate, Philon will be informed and Perikles will continue to supply information through him.’
When Hephaistion stopped speaking, Alexander became aware that the noise level had increased. Horses were being brought back from exercise and stable boys and slaves had started milling about. Alexander might have winced at the image they made with Hephaistion holding him fast by his wrists and talking so intently and uncaring of the world around them. A thought might have crossed his mind had he not been too entirely absorbed by the revelations his friend had made. He felt Hephaistion’s hands unfastening from around his wrists and for a second he mourned the loss of their warm grasp. At the same time, he became aware of the short, almost frightened puffs of breath that they both let out, as if they had run a tight, miles-long foot race.
‘I am sorry about your father,’ Alexander said quietly.
‘When Philip told me, it felt like I had lost him all over again,’ Hephaistion’s voice dropped in sorrow.
‘I wish that you’d shared all this with me sooner,’ Alexander spoke quietly, every word carefully chosen. ‘You carried this burden alone and it was meant to be shared. It seems that we have both misunderstood a lot about each other’s intentions,’ he said quietly, his eyes glittering like beads and yet incapable of letting loose the rush of elation, mixed with anger and relief that was swimming towards the surface, grappling for a chance to burst into the open. ‘I thought you trusted me enough to share anything with me.’
Hephaistion’s face darkened with an emotion that Alexander could not read.
‘I did not trust myself enough to be worthy of you,’ he said finally, letting out a long breath, like a man who had shared his last, most sacrilegious secret. ‘I would have gladly died before disappointing you or losing our friendship. But I did not want you to remember me in wrath, or worse, in disappointment. It is why I had to do this, myself.’
Alexander nodded. Silence stood between them but not nearly as uncomfortable as it had been the past few weeks back and, as if a spell was broken, the young men stood looking at each other, aware of their surroundings.
‘I think we had better leave,’ Hephaistion said in as casual a tone as he could muster. ‘We are riding out at dawn and…’
‘Of course, you’re right,’ Alexander agreed as they walked side by side and exited the main stable building. ‘How many men are we taking?’
Hephaistion looked confused. ‘We?’
‘Yes,’ Alexander replied a little irritably. ‘You didn’t think that now that I know I would let you go alone.’
‘Philip would never allow you to come along,’ Hephaistion protested. ‘This is hardly an important mission, escorting a bunch of women and children to safety.’
‘Then,’ Alexander smiled slyly, ‘all the more reason for my father not to deny me.’
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