Alexander was King of the world, ruler of many countries, leader of thousands of men and conqueror of all he surveyed. He was admired by his subjects, renowned for his strategic battles and respected by his enemies.
That being said, the above mentioned man was not doing any of those mature and honorable things at the moment.
Sneaking on his hands and knees through the shrubs, he stalked towards a tent. Snickering silently, he could hardly contain his excitement. The years melted away and the King was suddenly a 10-year-old again.
Hephaestion was one of the hardest people he knew to surprise. He seemed to have a sixth sense about knowing when someone was close, especially Alexander. Tonight, however, he was totally engrossed in his work and had no idea what was about to take place. Alexander had waited for so long to make this moment happen. The opportunity had finally presented itself and he was not going to lose it.
Earlier in the evening, Alexander and Hephaestion had dined together. The victory parties from the battle several weeks ago were still being celebrated. They were not as loud and boisterous as those in the days following the victory, but they were still commencing nonetheless, the noise level now down to a dull roar.
Hephaestion had excused himself early, saying he had a mountain-high stack of scrolls to work on. Alexander stayed on for a while longer, enjoying the company, before leaving the other companions.
He walked for awhile, enjoying the night and sounds of the camp. He was joined by his faithful dog until a rabbit crossed their path and a chase ensued, and then he was alone again.
Alexander had spotted Hephaestion from a distance, hunched over a small table outside his tent. The table had many scrolls, baskets and assorted writing paraphernalia on it. He was sitting on a little three-legged stool and concentrating very hard on his work. He did not notice Alexander approaching.
The moment to strike had arrived.
Sneaking behind several other tents, Alexander made his way towards Hephaestion. He removed his sandals and started crawling on all fours, trying not to make a sound. His stomach was fluttering with excitement and he had to keep reminding himself to go slow and not spoil the moment by rushing and giving himself away.
Inching his way forward, he came to a large fallen tree branch. The branch lay between him and Hephaestion and was the perfect cover. He was now only a foot away and still had not been discovered. This was going to be better than he had ever imagined. Victory was in sight.
Peeking at Hephaestion from under the log, Alexander was ready to make his final assault.
But as he braced himself for the final wave, something very cold and very wet touched the back of his leg. Surprised out of his wits, he let out a girly scream, and raised his head up so fast that he crashed hard into the log, instantly seeing stars.
The cold wet something turned out to be attached to a big hairy head, that, in turn, was attached to a big brute of a dog. His dog, to be exact.
Put on guard by the scream from Alexander, the dog started barking exuberantly, looking around for the foe that was hurting his master, ready to kill if needed to protect him.
Hephaestion, on hearing a shrill scream and loud barking, jumped straight up but got his feet tangled in the legs of the stool and fell over backwards. Trying to recover and retrieve his sword to do battle with this screaming banshee and wild animal, Hephaestion finally saw who was behind it all.
Alexander sat with his hand holding the expanding bump on his head, looking from his intended victim to the traitor panting behind him.
The traitor, now having successfully scared off any and all invisible attackers, stood wagging his tail and drooling happily. If dogs could smile, he was wearing one.
Sprawled out on his behind, arms behind him holding him up, legs spread in front of him, Hephaestion sat recovering. Scrolls, baskets and inks surrounded the overturned table and the stool was still tangled around his feet.
The dog looked from Alexander to Hephaestion.
Alexander looked from Hephaestion to the dog.
Hephaestion looked from the dog to Alexander.
Hephaestion was the first to break the silence, beginning to laugh, and was soon overpowered by ninety pounds of hairy playfulness. Telling him what a good dog he was and scratching him behind the ears, Hephaestion was presented with a big belly to scratch and rub. Taking the piece of meat jerky he had been snacking on earlier out of the dirt, Hephaestion gave it to the dog and winked at Alexander.
Alexander, on the other hand, rubbed his lumpy head and frowned at the traitor and intended victim. Next time, Alexander decided, he had to make sure the double-crossing dog was otherwise occupied. There was definitely going be a next time – of that, he had no doubt. Then he would be an army of one and have his own victory celebration.
After all, to the victor goes the spoils.
Little did he know that Hephaestion was thinking the exactly the same thing.
Well, that, and also to destroy as many stools as he could find in the kingdom.