Hephaistion shivered against the cold and pulled his fur cloak tightly round him, looking over towards the mountains, then down to the waiting horses. He sighed, his breath becoming a mist on the cold air, as he leaned against the stone pillar of the palace.

It was not a place either he or Alexander knew well, and it's hospitality had been quickly used up as Philip's threats and accusations arrived, seemingly daily, with exhausted messengers. It became clear they had to leave, to save Alexander's young uncle any trouble from Alexander's war-ravaged father.

Hephaistion could not take his eyes off the mountains. Even from here, from the comfort of the palace at Dodona, they looked hostile, like the tribes that inhabited them. Illyrians. They would cut the hearts from their own mothers if they thought they could profit from it.

His father used to trade with them, they would come down from the mountains in the spring and travel to Hephaistion's home. Long before he went to Pella; long before he met Alexander. Through their visits, with the ease that a child can learn, he began to know their language, and hoped, what he could remember, would be useful to them now.

He pulled the cloak even tighter. It had been Alexander's idea to head there. But in truth where else could they go? Alexander needed to stay close enough to Macedon, but far enough from it too.

Hephaistion wondered what Philip would think when he heard where Alexander was headed. It was a dangerous place, and Alexander was, at present, his only viable heir.

Olympias' voice rang out, as footsteps were heard on the stone entrance, Alexander's soft voice straight after it.

Making his move, Hephaistion went to his horse. He leapt on to it, then leaned forward to untie the packhorse, carrying all the provisions they would need. As he sat upright, Alexander came to Bucephalus, smiling at him as he passed by.

Stealing a glance at Olympias, Hephaistion pushed his horse forward, towards Illyria. Any farewells would not be meant for him. He rode along the streets of the capital, heading for the open country. Pulling a large fur pelt, over his legs, to keep them warm. It was not long before Alexander caught up with him. He was grinning, looking forward to their adventure.

"You'd think we had an invitation to visit Illyria," Hephaistion said, and smiled.

Alexander laughed. "I like the freedom that comes with exile. I don't know about you but I was tiring of being my uncle's guest, of thanking him for everything…of having my quarters so far away from yours."

"Well, that would have been your mother's idea," replied Hephaistion. "The one night you tried to come to me, wasn't it she who stopped you, told you it would cause offence."

"Well, we're free of her now," said Alexander, bringing Bucephalus close to Hephaistion's mare. He clasped Hephaistion by the neck, pulling him forward, and kissed him, claiming him. When he pulled away, he saw people in the street staring at him. Alexander ignored them. "I'll give you more than that tonight," he promised, and smiled.

They rode on, leaving the houses behind, across a plain, fording a river, and then climbed several hills, leaving what they knew behind. The snow covered trees, against the blue sky, looked beautiful. They weren't headed anywhere in particular, just somewhere that Philip could not reach them so easily.

Alexander's other companions had written to him at Dodona, they wanted to join him. Ptolemy and Perdiccas had left Pella, considering it not wise to stay in the current climate of suspicion and accusation. They had headed for Perdiccas' family home, at Lefkadia. Seleucus had gone on to Pilea, where he was staying as guest friend to a merchant called Clearchus. The rest, all scattered, waiting to see what would happen, all eager to follow Alexander. He had refused them, believing it was safer just to travel with Hephaistion, not to bring any unnecessary attention on themselves.

Alexander looked over at Hephaistion, smiling at the look this cold weather gave him. He looked handsome wrapped in furs, against the backdrop of snow. It snowed at Pella, but never stayed as constant as it did here. As if aware of Alexander gazing on him, Hephaistion turned and smiled.

"How far do you want to go on for?" he asked.

Alexander looked up at the sky, judging it to be mid-afternoon. He looked ahead, seeing a river, some trees that would provide shelter and firewood. He nodded in the general direction. "What about here?"

Hephaistion smiled. "Perfect."

They made camp, lighting a fire. Alexander fetched more wood, while Hephaistion fetched water. Then they both unloaded the pack horse, and saw to the horses before finding food for themselves, that they had brought with them. There was also wine, that they decided to water down, both aware they needed to be on their guard in this hostile land.

Sitting around the fire, they watched the sun go down. It was setting on a day when everything had changed for them. All that they had known had gone for now. All that they had been prepared for at Mieza appeared to have been taken from them.

"We could have stayed in Epirus," Hephaistion commented, getting up and going over to the furs that would make their bed that night. He considered undressing, but decided it was too cold to bother.

"Well, I'm glad we're here," Alexander replied, checking on the horses before he came over to Hephaistion and lay down beside him.

Hephaistion threw the furs over them, and they both shivered for a moment until their bodies warmed the covers. He nestled against Alexander's chest. "What would your father have done anyway?" he asked. "Would he have appeared with an army and demanded your return?"

Alexander wrapped an arm around Hephaistion's shoulders. "My uncle has his own problems," he whispered, kissing the top of Hephaistion's head gently. "He might need my father's assistance, and he's not likely to get it while I am a guest. It's an apology he wants, anyway."

Hephaistion laughed. "Well, he has no right asking for one. Attalus was in the wrong.

Alexander laughed too. "And you took the insult the same as if he had called you a bastard. I think you beat me to him, and fought harder."

"How far north do you intend going?" asked Hephaistion, sitting up and turning to gaze in to Alexander's eyes, only visible by the firelight now.

Alexander shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. If we could find some place to stay, that would be good, but I know the Illyrians don't take kindly to strangers, especially to Macedonians." He kissed Hephaistion's lips, and smiled. "Enough talking. We have made our decision; we are here now. We best make the most of it."

Hephaistion opened his mouth, as Alexander's locked against his own, groaning, lifting his body, as Alexander's hands explored. Fumbling through the clothing, through the furs.

Alexander broke the kiss momentarily. "If I didn't know it would all be worth it in the end, I might give up the idea, you're so well wrapped," he said with a grin, then launched back in to battle.