Alexander's bedroom in Philip's grand new palace at Pella faced east, overlooking the massive new harbour on the river, with the sea beyond. The morning sun was flooding the balcony and reflecting white-gold light onto the whitewashed ceiling and walls around Alexander's bed.
Hephaestion was lying naked on his stomach on Alexander's bed, propped up on his elbows as he concentrated on the list of supplies he was going to need to accompany Alexander north to join Philip's summer campaign against the Thracians.
He was trying to work out how much money he needed and whether he would have to ask his mother for money or whether it was a small enough sum that he could borrow what he needed. There was always the chance that he might get killed and he didn't want to leave his mother with a horrendous moneylender's debt. Of course, the bounty he had earnt on Alexander's campaign against the Maedi would help, but he needed at least another two horses for the summer and they needed feed and tack, and possibly another groom, which meant another wagon to transport everything and a couple of mules to pull it. He could only hope the Thracians would prove lucrative.
Alexander was sitting crossed-legged on the bed beside Hephaestion, entranced as he watched Hephaestion absorbed in his thoughts.
His eyes wandered languorously over Hephaestion's body, from his long legs to the gold flecks in his brown hair. The morning sun caught the gold in the long strands of hair lying between his shoulder blades against his bare skin. Alexander knew the smooth feel of his hand moving down the flawless, honey-gold skin of Hephaestion's long back and round buttocks. He wanted to run a finger down the groove of Hephaestion's spine; he wanted to place a kiss in the small of Hephaestion's back.
"I adore you," he breathed.
"No, you don't," Hephaestion said absently. "You just adore my body." He was trying to decipher a word at the bottom of his list. It looked like 2 squirrels.
Gradually, Hephaestion became aware of the intense, hurt and angry silence behind him. He turned his head warily to look over his shoulder at Alexander, his jewel-like eyes wide.
Alexander was staring at him with hot brown eyes, liquid with hurt and a burning anger which crept up under his skin to flush his tanned cheeks red-gold. His lips were shut in a tight line which parted to spill heated words like burning coals.
"And you just love me for what I can give you."
For an instant, Hephaestion stared at Alexander in bright shock, his lips parted. Then his eyes became guarded, his jaw tightened and he gave a small shrug.
"That makes us even then," he said, and turned back to his list.
Alexander stared at Hephaestion in shocked outrage. He did not like being ignored, even if Hephaestion was only pretending to ignore him. He knew Hephaestion wasn't reading the list and watched as Hephaestion, his ankles crossed, bent his knees and raised his heels over his backside.
Alexander leant forward and snatched the list from Hephaestion's hands.
"Alexander, give that back," Hephaestion said evenly, holding his temper in check.
Alexander ignored him, holding the list in his lap as he read the contents.
"Alexander," Hephaestion said, a note of warning in his voice even though he had not moved from his position on the bed. "Give that back to me. I'm not angry enough to fight you for it, because you'll just beat me like you always do, and I'll end up getting hurt. But I will fight you for it if you don't give it back to me now."
Hephaestion had not raised his voice, nor had he even looked at Alexander but he held out his hand for the list.
Alexander looked at Hephaestion for a long moment, his anger stilled by Hephaestion's reasoned words. Silently he placed the list back in Hephaestion's hand. Hephaestion took it without looking at Alexander, and pretended to be absorbed in reading it again.
"Why do you need two squirrels?" Alexander asked contritely.
"They aren't squirrels," Hephaestion said, bending his head forward to peer more closely at his list. "I don't know what it says." His hair fell forward, completely obscuring any view Alexander had of his face.
Suddenly Hephaestion flung his weight onto his hip, propped on his elbow so that he could look at Alexander. "Why did you make me do that?" he cried. "Now I hate myself for making you obey me."
Alexander stared back at him, his prominent eyes open wide so that the whole of the brown orbs were visible. "I'm not too proud to heed your words," he said. "A prince should always listen to his friends. Even when it hurts."
A tremor passed through Hephaestion's lower lip and he tightened it, staring at Alexander. "I forgot myself," he said, his voice taut. "I forgot you were a prince."
"No," Alexander said, a sharp edge to his voice. "No," he repeated more calmly, bowing his head. "You forgot I am Alexander."
Hephaestion regarded Alexander levelly, his chin lifting stubbornly. He could feel the physical power emanating from Alexander, and it raised his own hackles. "Would Alexander still love me if I were a squinty-eyed runt? Would you?" he asked.
Alexander watched Hephaestion for a long moment, thoughts moving through his eyes. "You would be a different person," he said at last.
"My soul would still be the same."
"But with a poor soil, its bloom would wither and die unseen. Beauty commands attention."
Colour crept into Hephaestion's cheeks. "Then I thank the gods," he mumbled. His voice strengthening, he muttered, "If you weren't a prince, you would make a very good flatterer."
Alexander smiled slightly, and his eyes slid down to Hephaestion's throat, nestled at the base of which was a necklace of translucent pink sea shells, each no bigger than a child's fingernail. Alexander envied Hephaestion such simple adornment, foolish on a prince who was regent of Macedon.
"A prince also has the privilege of commanding attention," Hephaestion said, his eyes following Alexander's. Around the base of Alexander's throat was an expensive necklace of engraved gold tubes interspersed with polished black basalt rings of stone from Egypt.
"A prince is merely the first among equals, so the saying goes," Alexander said. He wasn't really paying attention any more.
He raised his eyes from Hephaestion's throat and placed his forefinger in the hollow above Hephaestion's upper lip. He pressed his finger down lightly against Hephaestion's lips. "When we are born," he said, his voice far away, "Artemis, protectoress of the newly-born, seals our lips thus." He raised his liquid eyes to Hephaestion's. "The unborn know the secret of love illimitable and the power of the gods. We can only catch glimpses of the world of the gods, and must worship it when we do."
Hephaestion, his blue eyes washed clear except for the sight of Alexander, caught his breath. "You've been dreaming of the gods again," he said, a touch of awe in his voice.
Alexander smiled lop-sidedly and, uncurling himself from his cross-legged position, threw himself down on his back beside Hephaestion.
"I sometimes think," he said, "that the gods use my head as a theatre. I think Artemis was trying to tell me to keep secret and silent like a creature of the wild."
"Why?" Hephaestion asked, looking down at Alexander.
"Because I say and do the wrong thing." Alexander reached under his pillow and retrieved a letter. He placed the parchment in Hephaestion's hand.
Hephaestion looked at it in trepidation, recognising Philip's royal seal. He met Alexander's eyes questioningly and, at Alexander's nod, sat up, crossed his legs and resting his forearms on his knees, began to read the King's letter.
Hephaestion read in growing disbelief as Philip reprimanded Alexander harshly for giving money to men of uncertain loyalty, of dubious allegiance who had offered little or no service to Macedon in Philip's eyes. 'What on earth gave you the deluded notion,' Philip concluded, 'that men whose affections you had bought would be your faithful friends?"
Hephaestion raised horrified eyes to Alexander's. "He questions your judgement of these men? How dare he belittle you when he does not know these men except by reputation? Nor what you hoped to gain?"
Alexander stared back at him and gave a small shrug as he lay with his head on the pillow. "I overstepped the bounds of my authority."
"Who told him?"
"I made no secret of it." Then, with a flare of anger that darkened his fiery eyes, Alexander said, "He doesn't understand that it is the duty of a prince to be generous and open-handed. A prince must lure men into his service with the promise of reward, and then lavish great gifts upon them when they prove their worth. That way, they will know they are valued and will stay with him in lean times, with faith that they can share in his change of fortune."
"He fears you, Alexander," Hephaestion said quietly. "He fears you will become too strong for him."
"The mistake I made," Alexander said, his eyes locked on Hephaestion's, "was in using his money. But I will pay it pack. I will return it to his treasury sevenfold. And I will tell him so when I write to him."
Hephaestion lay down quickly beside Alexander. "Alexander," he whispered, "it may be sacrilege to say so, but he will not always be King."
Alexander's eyes unlocked from their fixed stare. "No," he said, "but I may not live to be King either, Hephaestion."
"There will be no choice, Alexander," Hephaestion said vehemently in a low voice. "You are the best, the only heir. The army will accept no other, and nor will Antipater or Parmenion. If you were a slave lying in the gutter, you would pick yourself up and work with everything in your power to excel, to be the best of men, to rise above every adversity, to live your life in honour and make the gods proud of you. And men recognise that determination to succeed, they will back a winner."
Alexander's face softened and he regarded Hephaestion with a touch of wonder. "Would you still love me if I weren't a prince?" he asked quietly.
Hephaestion's face lightened as he held Alexander's eyes. "No," he answered wickedly. His eyes widened in a smile as he saw Alexander's reaction. "You're short and you've got sticky-out eyes."
"Sticky-out eyes?" Alexander asked incredulously.
"Yes. Your sister Cleopatra told me she used to tease you by saying that when you were children. You always lost your temper."
"That is the last time you go near my sisters."
Hephaestion smiled and suddenly his eyes opened in surprise. "Snaffles," he said in disbelief. He sat up and retrieved his list, Philip's letter forgotten on the sheets beside them.
"What?" Alexander asked in puzzlement, sitting up beside him.
"Snaffles. Two snaffle bits for the horses. That's what it says."
"Hephaestion, there's no way that says snaffles," Alexander said, taking the list from Hephaestion's hand and looking at the offending word. "If anything, it says two squiggles."
"No, I know, but I remember now. That's what I meant," Hephaestion said, taking the list back and gazing at it. "I got distracted by you and wrote the wrong word down."
"I would buy you a thousand golden bits and lay them at your feet," Alexander said in awe.
Hephaestion looked at him, the joy draining from his face. He scrambled off the bed and faced Alexander, anger and disbelief rising in him. "Have you learnt nothing? You cannot buy me, body nor soul!"
Alexander flung himself off the bed at Hephaestion, a fiery ball of energy. He stopped in front of Hephaestion, restraining himself from touching him.
"I would lay them at your feet in praise," he said firmly, an edge of command in his voice. "In gratitude for your friendship, for your love. I cannot buy what I already have. I can only offer thanksgiving."
For a long moment they stared at each other, eyeball to eyeball. Challenge flared in Alexander's eyes and he turned away from Hephaestion, a creature of fire and gold as he stepped lightly into the sunlight on the balcony. He leapt sure-footed onto the balustrade, his compact body in perfect balance.
"I would praise you to the skies," Alexander cried, throwing his head back and holding his arms wide to the world as he stood naked against the sky. "So that the gods may know of your worth and be jealous."
"Don't tempt the gods, or they may take me from you," Hephaestion said, the beginnings of a smile in his voice as Alexander stood like a bronze god against the morning sky. Hephaestion walked out onto the balcony, squinting in the sun. "You'll fall," he said.
"The pool's below," Alexander said lightly, looking down.
Hephaestion peered over the balustrade at the swimming pool below with awakening interest. He climbed up onto the balustrade beside Alexander. "It's not deep enough," he said appraising the pool. "We'll break our legs."
"Backwards then," Alexander said brightly.
He turned round and grinned wickedly at Hephaestion, his hair tangled about his eyes. He held out his hand and Hephaestion grabbed it with an answering wildness. Whooping loudly, they pushed off backwards and fell through the air together.
They landed with an enormous splash that pulled their hands apart. They touched bottom and pushed off, splashing and spluttering as they surfaced in the cold water.
"That was awesome," Alexander said, shaking the water from his hair, droplets of water catching the sun.
"Very definitely," Hephaestion said, wiping the water from his face. "An Alexander special: death in the making."
Apparently there really was a swimming pool on the acropolis at Pella, and Philip's letter is cited in Plutarch's Moralia.