Author: Rothalion
Title: To Thaw A Hardened Heart
Summery: First person POV of Cassander. The devious one learns a lesson about humility, trust, honor and most importantly love while on an ill fated training exercise led by Alexander. The boys are about fourteen to fifteen and searching for answers.
Rating: PG-17 for under the furs sex.
Disclaimer: This can be Stone's universe, because I want to use Hephaistion's blue eyes and Cassander's long hair.
Excuses: Cassander's been rattling around in my head and I haven't done a first person POV in a while so….this is a one chapter tale that's turned into twoL In an effort to be expedient and get back to WPF I will not languish over this piece as far as editing, not that I edit myself worth a damn anyway!
Feedback: Please it's always welcome.
We are three days out from Pella. The inner circle of Alexander's friends and six new pages being tested for their service at court. The mission is basically in Alexander's command. His first 'real' command and he's become insufferable. Cleitus and a man we call the Boar are along to oversee him. I had tried, to no fruition, to convince my father, Antipiter, to get me out of this so called 'hardening' mission. Gods, how I hate this brutish training! Now that the weather has gone from springtime warm to winter frigid the idea of cutting off a couple of fingers on my sword hand to get out of this trip is starting seem like the choice I should have made. If it was not for being the son of one of Philip's main generals I could just wile my time away at court in the comfort of the palace and slowly work my way into a cozy position. Why couldn't I have been born an Athenian like that pretty whore, Hephaistion Amyntor. An Athenian living in Athens where one could get ahead by using their cunning and their deviousness and not only by hacking and slashing with a sword. If any of these hill born heathens heard my thoughts they would execute me for treason! What a fool Amyntor is! Running from Athens to escape the politics only to sully himself amidst these Macedonian dolts. By the gods what sane father would wish this life upon his son? I have no lust for fighting and suffering the hardships of a campaign. Damn, this cold rain! Damn, Cleitus and that ugly bastard the Boar! Damn Alexander. Despite the unexpected cold they insist on leading us higher and higher into these forsaken mountains; if they go too high this rain will turn to snow. Philip's words to us before we left keep running through my mind as I slog through the slick mud covering the narrow stone strewn path we are traveling on. I refuse to look to my left. Refuse to acknowledge the shear drop off that if I slip into it would claim my life. 'Toughen 'em up Black Cleitus! Ten weeks straight at Mieza has surely softened their young hides! Do not bring 'em back soft.' Soft. Soft is good. Soft is smart. Soft is a life of comfort. My father be damned! I will find a way to have the easy life.
We finally leave the narrow path and enter into the forest again. Cleitus halts and calls for a brief rest to check our mounts hooves after the stony trail and eat a little bit. We are all, weighed down by our sopping furs and despite their protection soaked to the skin, and cold. Only Alexander, Cleitus and the Boar seem not to notice their discomfort. I watch as Hephaistion checks his mount's feet and then Bucephelus'. It sickens me. Maybe one day the vile black horse will kick the bastard's ass kissing brains out. What won't the pretty bastard do for Alexander. He is cold too. I can tell. Hephaistion is always cold, and we tease him about it all the time. Even after nearly twelve years at Pella he has never grown accustomed to the bitter winter climate. Alexander returns from meeting with Cleitus and rubs Hephaistion's back in an effort to warm him but the Athenian brushes him off. That they are lovers is no secret. It sickens me. They are nearly the same age and that defies or at best borders on defying Macedonian mores. Then a strange thing happens as I watch. One of the recruits approaches the pair as they stand very close together talking. He steps right up and takes Hephaistion by the elbow. The boy is all of maybe nine years old and his boldness catches the attention of everyone in the small clearing. Cleitus puts his hand on his sword and begins to move toward the trio. Alexander is stunned and turns on the lad.
"Explain yourself, boy!" he orders stepping between Hephaistion and the foolish page. I hear Hephaistion say Alexander's name in a whisper, trying to calm him. "Well, you would dare approach your Prince while he is engaged in a private conversation! Speak!"
"Alexander, let him be." The whore again tries to placate Alexander.
"They have manners to learn as well as toughness, Hephaistion! You would do well to remember that!" The Athenian brat is stunned by his lover's retort but hides his disappointment well.
As I look on Hephaistion bows to Alexander and speaks in a firm but submissive voice. "Yes, my Prince. My sincerest apologies."
He steps back a step and stands tall seemingly unabashed at being used by Alexander to make a point. For the briefest instant I feel sorry for him. Sorry until it occurs to me that his response was more than likely faked. Well done too. Hephaistion's reply had not been stilted or halting. The pretty bastard pulled off the feigned show of respect flawlessly.
"Well, boy?" Alexander continued. We have all moved in closer to altercation and we can hear all the words that are spoken.
"My Prince." The boy began bowing uncannily, exactly as Hephaistion had done. "I only desired to give…" he paused and looked at Hephaistion who was now standing five or six steps behind and to Alexander's left; having been the only one of us to actually step away from the scene. "To offer, Hephaistion an apple for his fine mount. Just an apple for a great horse, my Prince." He bowed again and held the apple out toward Alexander.
"Great horse, boy? And what does a child like you know of great horses? Is Bucephelus not also a great horse?" Alexander asked. I winced at the word child, at the irony of it. Alexander had been only a child when he'd claimed Bucephelus. When the curly haired boy was slow to respond Alexander pushed for his answer. "Well, you seem bold enough, speak, what is your judgment?"
The lad looked to where Bucephelus stood ground reigned next to Hephaistion's mount, Ajax, studied the two animals for a moment then after bowing again, began his careful assessment of Alexander's horse.
"Yes, my Prince. The Oxhead is indeed a fine mount although his head is overly large and he is bit short in length for my liking. He must turn a tight circle because of it, but it, his stubbiness, undoubtedly slows his gallop. The Devil horse…"
"Devil horse?" Alexander cut him off and I watched as Hephaistion face broke into a knowing smile.
"Yes, my Prince. In my homeland we call them such. The Devil horse has the Oxhead's bulk and strength yet is longer and faster, and because of their very powerful haunches, that we have bred into them they can turn in battle as well as your Oxhead. Also, my prince, the Devil horse's coat is thicker and woollier then the Oxhead's fine smooth one. It serves as a sort of armor and also…"
"Enough!" Alexander cut him off with a wave of his hand and stepped aside so the boy could present the apple to Hephaistion. "Deliver your apple! Just remember the manners of court the next time you approach a superior!" He cast a wicked look at Hephaistion, who out of habit was chewing his bottom lip to keep from smiling, and stomped off to where Cleitus and the Boar were standing.
Soon enough we were back on the trail again, moving higher up the forested slope. Hephaistion had taken up a position in the rear making sure that the boys did not fall behind. The rain had slowed to a drizzle and the temperature continued to drop. Before nightfall the drizzle would be flurries and then outright snow. Alexander and Hephaistion had not spoken since the morning break. It pleased me immensely that they were at odds with each other. All my life I had been taught to hate the handsome Athenian! Athenian, why still call him that? The only thing left to give away his birth land, aside from his dislike of the cold, was his nauseating arrogance, watch dog like protectiveness and pitiful fawning over Alexander that was the mark of any well trained sycophant. Don't all the very best sycophants come from Athens?
My father insists on taunting me and prodding me with the fact that it is Hephaistion who has become the prince's favorite. A position that he had groomed me for. I suppose, things being as they are, Hephaistion's father had done a better job educating his whore of a son in the niceties of plying his wares to catch a prince. By the gods my father has even forced me to let my hair to grow long, just below my shoulders, in an attempt to turn Alexander's head; once it was apparent that it was the likes of Hephaistion that caught the prince's eye and warmed his bed. God awful mop of hair. It is impossible to keep up especially in the field! No amount of vanity would drive me to have this hair if I had my say about it. What the hell is Alexander up to now? He's urging Bucephelus toward the rear of our small column at damn near a gallop; his face a mask of rage.
"You there! Yes, you! Curly! Get your arrogant rump up front and scout ahead for a place to camp."
I twisted around when I heard his tone to observe the confrontation. He's sending a nine year old out to scout for a campsite? Is he mad? I cannot believe that Cleitus will allow it. The curly haired youth had been riding at Hephaistion's side for a long time now; talking to the whore and sharing quiet laughs. At Alexander's command he saluted, kneed his mount out and around Alexander and charged forward, stopping only briefly to speak with Cleitus before confidently riding ahead weaving his way through the trees. Alexander wasn't finished yet though.
"And you!" He addressed Hephaistion disparagingly. "You take your Athenian ass back a bit and check that we are not being tailed! Since when is exchanging pleasantries, with untried boys, more important then watching our back! You are still here, Hephaistion? You have your orders. Be gone!"
As I watched, shocked at the absurd exchange, and abuse of power Alexander jerked Bucephelus' head around so viciously the horse reared and fought the bit before moving forward to the front of the line. As he passed me he glowered at my stunned expression and told me to fuck off. Athenian ass? Had I heard right? Tailed? By who? We were well within the safety of our lands, the only enemy we had to deal with was the cold and maybe wolves. Tailed. Maybe I could turn this horrid trip into a great opportunity. With Hephaistion out of the picture maybe I could weasel my way into Alexander's good graces. I smiled at the thought, twisted around and watched joyfully, with squinted eyes through the now pouring, wind driven rain, as Hephaistion disappeared from sight over a slight hill.
All things aside Curly turned out to be a bright boy. Now he was also the center of attention. The arrogant little lad of the morning was now our little hero. Not only had the seemingly untried boy found a suitable campsite, he'd managed to find a dry one. A cave. Well, more of a very large three sided outcropping. The wind driven rain was being blown from the opposite side of the bluff and the place was free of the wind and wet. A tree had fallen into the recess and was dry so we also had fire wood. Plenty of it. So the night would be passed in dry warmth.
We finished congratulating Curly on his find and started to set up camp. The Boar went back out into the storm with the promise of returning with fresh meat. If I hadn't known the brute of a man all my life I would have doubted him. He stunned us all by inviting Curly to attend him. Alexander vetoed that and insisted on going along. Is there no bottom to the vat the holds my prince's jealousy?
As promised they returned with a fine stag just before dark. The rain has turned to snow just as I'd predicted. We all helped dress the stag and set a haunch on a spit over a raging blaze. We had eaten only field rations for three days so the smell of fresh meat made us giddy and joyful. The alcove was so warm that we stripped down, washed up a bit with warmed rain water and held some wresting bouts on the sandy floor as we waited for the meal to finish cooking. Curly was awarded the stag's fine pelt for his good scouting skills; he offered it in turn to Alexander as a token of apology for his earlier behavior. Alexander refused it politely and reassured him that the event was long forgotten.
Forgotten. A word that means so much and can cause such pain. I am no poet or play write but forgotten is a word that has always touched even my hard heart. Hephaistion, had been forgotten. Even I had forgotten the whore in my joy at being warm and well fed. That Alexander had forgotten him seemed completely implausible. But he had. He was dancing with the others as one of the new boys played a spirited song on the flute he'd brought along. The warmed wined had freed up every ones inhibitions a bit. He had never looked back to see his lover disappear into the rain swept forest. He had not asked after him. Such, was his apparent disdain for Hephaistion's welfare that my plans for using their little spat as a way to advance myself suddenly seemed too cruel for even my liking. Besides, why would I set myself up to be so mistreated? By the damned gods though I have been so drilled by my father in knowing the pretty bastard's every move that I could not help but wonder where he was. I walked to the entrance of our shelter and stared out into the snow swept wood. There was no moon or stars to guide him, and we had veered sharply east to get to Curly's cave. There would be no tracks to follow, the snow, which had gone from mere flurries to full out snowing, had covered them long ago. A man could die in these awful hills. Hephaistion was no child; but alone, cold and hungry probably lost with no way to make a fire…he was at risk. I turned and watched Alexander dance. Did I dare ask him about his lover? What did I care! If the whore perished so be it! Right? My father would be pleased. By the gods was I growing soft! Curly solved my problem.
As I looked on he approached Alexander after he'd sat down on his bedroll when the dance had ended. Of all the boys Curly was the only one not drunk, he'd held his wine well. Kept his head. I stepped as close as I dared to listen to the conversation. Having learned his lesson he bowed deeply and requested, with respect, to speak with Alexander who in turn smiled up drunkenly at the boy and waved off the lad's formality. Curly made a face at the rebuff and started to speak. I noted too that Cleitus and the Boar were paying attention to the exchange.
"My Prince…"
"It is Alexander, Curly."
"Alexander, it is just that…." he paused and looked over at Cleitus who raised an eyebrow and sat up straighter. "It is, Hephaistion. He has not returned. I should, would like to go out after him. He, he has no tracks to follow. The snow has…"
"Hephaistion, has a lesson to learn, Curly. Is that truly your name? Curly?" he slurred looking up sleepily at the boy.
"No, my… Alexander. It is, Milos. Hephaistion, I want…"
"Fear not Milos he will find me. He cannot bear to be apart from me!" he laughed loudly and pulled the boy down next to him. "Trust me Mi…Curly he will find me. Come now boy; keep me warm!"
"My Prince, it is more than warm enough. I don't think you…"
"You've your orders boy; lay down!"
I looked over at Cleitus who had stood and was making his way to where Alexander was lying. He squatted down and shot me an angry glare. He knew how much I hated Hephaistion, and he knew that I would be first in line to tell the story of Alexander and Curly to Hephaistion as soon as I could.
"You are sworn to silence. That or be flogged for your insolence. I care not who your father is! Understood, Cassander?" He hissed at me in a wicked whisper.
"Of course, Black Cleitus. Of course." I bowed slightly but did not turn from the scene.
"Alexander," I heard him say. "Alexander it is the boy's rotation at guard duty. Let him alone."
Alexander grumbled and reluctantly released Curly. The boy stood quickly and backed away from Alexander's sleeping place. I could see his chest heaving in gulps of air. He'd been terrified. The poor lad had certainly heard the tales of Philip's love for little boys and I think that poor Curly had fully expected the same from Alexander. I laughed at the silly thought. Alexander bed someone other then Hephaistion. The fool of a boy! If he was going to survive at court he would have to learn to listen to all the rumors, not just a chosen few.
"It's ok lad, go to sleep now. You have had a hell of a day boy." Cleitus tussled Curly's hair and turned him toward where he'd set out his bedroll.
"Black Cleitus, sir, Hephaistion is still out there."
"Aye lad he is, and it would be a fool's errand to go out after him. He's a smart one that boy. He will find shelter Milos. Trust me. Now go and rest."
I do not think any of us will know exactly what happened but I awoke just before what should have been sunrise, if not for the blizzard outside of our shelter obscuring the sky, to the sound of Cleitus screaming at Curly. They stood toe to toe and the big warrior was doing his best not to punch the exhausted boy. The Boar pulled him away and once I'd shaken the sleep from my head I noticed that Alexander was wrapping a shivering Hephaistion in dry furs. Apparently Curly had defied Cleitus' orders to stay put and had gone out in search of Hephaistion and after finding him led him back through the storm to our cave.
"Hephaistion, come. Come to the fire." Alexander pleaded as he tugged Hephaistion along. Nearchus and Perdicass had stoked the blaze and it roared to life. "Sit; you are frozen."
Hephaistion pushed Alexander away and leaned in close to the blaze soaking up its warmth. Alexander backed off and looked to Cleitus for advice. The big warrior shrugged and turned his back. Curly again went into action bringing Hephaistion a cup of warmed wine with chunks of the stag meat in it. He pressed it into the man's trembling hands and forced him to drink it.
"It will warm you and the meat will bring your strength back. Come now Hephaistion sip it. My father taught me to make it. It is good for you."
"The rest of you," the Boar bellowed. "You've mounts to tend to! Get your wine soaked asses moving and get to it. There's naught to see here but a cold man. Alexander, take three men and scout forward break us a path through this god forsaken snow! Eat while you ride boys. This snow's not stopping and we have ground to cover. We'll be behind you shortly."
Alexander blanched at being told what to do. This was after all 'his' command. Finally after staring down the Boar he took Perdicass, Nearchus and Ptolemy with him and headed out into the blizzard. The rest of us tended our mounts and broke camp. Cleitus, now confident with Curly's tracking abilities, asked if he would be able to trail them through the storm and told him to follow as soon as Hephaistion was ready to ride. It would be nearly lunch before they reeled us in and joined us.