Part I
It was not until Hephaestion took the scroll from him that Alexander realized he had been toying with it for so long. The letter from her was hardly the first and he knew that it would not be the last. From the very beginning of her exile to Epirus his mother had been writing to him; long rambling letters that he could not help but read. If he did not read them they would torment his mind until he at last gave in and read their contents.
"She will never say what you want her to," Hephaestion said as he dropped the letter onto his desk. "She will never apologize for any of it because she does not believe that she did anything that requires and apology."
"She nearly killed you!" Alexander blurted out before he could stop himself. "She wanted to kill you."
"And she failed."
The exchange was one that had repeated itself countless times in the year and a half that had passed since Hephaestion's abduction and incarceration in the Illyrian mine. Until his dying day, Alexander would never fully comprehend how Hephaestion could be near him knowing that it was his mother that was responsible for his suffering. Or that any of his kind, gentle Hephaestion remained after all the horrors he had endured.
There was also no denying the changes he had undergone. A hardness was evident in him where there had been none before. Hephaestion was no longer so quick to let slights go unmentioned; a fact which had earned Cassander a broken nose and several members of the Vanguard various bumps and bruises.
"You know there will be many more letters to come in the next few months," Hephaestion continued, pouring wine for both of them. "Cleopatra marries Alexandros soon and Eurydike will be delivering at any moment. It is the perfect time for her to begin stirring up trouble again."
"The midwife is predicting another girl," Alexander said, taking the cup from Hephaestion.
His love smirked as he sprawled on a nearby chaise. "If my father's tale is correct, the midwives said the same about you. And that you were such a pretty babe that the first thing Philip did when he saw you was tear aside your swaddling to check if you did indeed have a cock."
Alexander's attempt to appear affronted failed miserably when he began to sputter on his wine. Instead he glared at Hephaestion while alternately coughing and wiping at his suddenly teary eyes. It did not help much that Hephaestion was chuckling away between sips of his wine.
"You are an utter wretch," Alexander croaked as soon as he had the breath to d so. "And while I may have been the prettier babe, you are certainly the prettier man."
Hephaestion snorted, rolling his eyes at the comment. "You listen far too much to your sister's prattling. She only says such things because I happened to be about when that mutt of hers got into mischief."
"It is more than my sister who believes this," Alexander said, grinning at the way Hephaestion's cheeks flushed. "If you put your mind to it you could have any number of girls or boys about the palace."
"Well lucky for you I have no such inclinations," Hephaestion mumbled, lifting the cup once again to his lips. "Though others may think me mad for it, I am content where I am."
Alexander grinned, allowing Hephaestion to have the final word. Hephaestion was not one to speak of his emotions often so Alexander held tight to each one. Yet even without Hephaestion speaking the words, Alexander was never in doubt of the other man's love. Hephaestion could make his affections perfectly clear with nothing more than a look. With a touch he was even more expressive.
"You know that I have no intention of marrying yet, right?" Alexander said a few moments later. With his sister's coming nuptials, his father was often hinting that he should get himself a legitimate heir.
Hephaestion smiled fondly at him. "At some point you will have to marry. I have always known this. It is impossible for you not to take a wife."
"Do you think Patroclus was ever jealous of Briseis?"
"He was certainly frustrated by the effect she had on Achilles," Hephaestion said after a brief consideration. "She made him act selfishly and that is in part why Patroclus died.... But I do not think Patroclus regretted his death. Achilles was fated to die young and Patroclus knew it. As death overcame him I think that he may have been relieved to know that he and Achilles would not long be parted. He had died an honourable death and was worthy to stand beside his love for all of eternity."
Alexander pursed his lips and rose slowly from the bed. He crossed over to the couch that Hephaestion was sprawled upon and placed his hands on his love's knees. With only minimal effort he turned Hephaestion towards him, kneeling down between his spread thighs.
"If the gods attempt to keep us apart once our mortal lives have ended I will lay waste to the house of the dead until I find you once again," Alexander pledged, his eyes holding Hephaestion's brilliant blue ones. "I will not allow death to part us."
Hephaestion did not speak the words, but his response was entirely visible in his body. The tension that was almost a very part of Hephaestion bled away then, his body utterly relaxed as he drew Alexander from the ground and into his arms. Alexander went willingly, lying against Hephaestion's chest.
"Such things are still far off and there is no point in dwelling on them. We have proven our devotion to the gods so I do not fear their plans for us when we have passed," Hephaestion said against Alexander's hair.
Alexander kept silent as he sought to ease his thoughts. He understood the truth of Hephaestion's words, but could not wholly make himself believe them. It was inevitable that he and Hephaestion would both marry and that they would both sire children. What Alexander was uncertain of was what would come once they had lived their lives. Would there be anything remarkable about their lives or would they manage the short, spectacular lives of Achilles and Patroclus that would allow them to live on as heroes once they descended to the house of the dead? Alexander was torn as to which scenario he would rather face. Much as he wanted glory to rival that of Achilles, he did not want to risk being parted from Hephaestion in the process. They would both need to be recognized as heroes in order to avoid the waters of the Lethe and remain together in Elysium.
"You still worry far too much," Hephaestion chided, lips ghosting against Alexander's temples. "Such matters are far off. We do not even leave for Persia until after your sister's wedding."
It took some effort to quiet his mind, but Alexander relaxed against Hephaestion's chest. Across the room his mother's letter continued to torment him, her constant intrigues making him uncertain. Alexander wished desperately that he could purge her from his existence, but she was proving a truly virulent poison. Hephaestion's fingers dancing lightly over his stomach, however, was a most welcomed, if temporary, cure.
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Never in all her life could Cleopatra remember being fussed over so much. As one of the king's many daughters, her place had never been a truly important one. Not like Alexander. Now, though, all of the attention was on her. She was the one who was going to have a grand wedding in a few months. It was an important wedding, she knew, because of what their mother had done to Alexander's friend.
Cleopatra prayed fervently that she and her new husband would not be living near her mother. As a child she had found Olympias utterly fascinating and thought it great fun to have a witch for a mother. Even before Olympias had people take Hephaestion to the mine in Illyria, Cleopatra had no longer been quite so certain that having a witch for a mother was a good thing. Her mother could be very frightening and said absolutely horrible things about her father; and about Hephaestion before she had him taken away. Cleopatra had never been able to figure out why her mother had hated Hephaestion so much until after he and Alexander had come back from Illyria. She had been watching as they had all rode through the gate and had seen the way Alexander looked at Hephaestion. It was the way the older girls looked at the soldiers they fancied. Only more. Cleopatra wanted someone to look at her like that.
Wandering out to her balcony, Cleopatra could see across the private family garden to Alexander's rooms. Through the drawn curtains she could barely make out two shapes lying sprawled on the couch she knew was there. She could not tell if they were naked, but they were moving about in a way that Cleopatra knew meant they were coupling. There was laughter suddenly, deep and quiet, that drifted across the open air. Alexander and Hephaestion were happy.
"My lady, come indoors so that I may dress your hair, "Lanike called from inside.
Sighing longingly in the direction of her brother's rooms, Cleopatra wandered back indoors.
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Ptolemy could not suppress a grin as he entered his bedroom and found Thais waiting for him with naught but a smile. Her sexual prowess aside, Ptolemy took pleasure from the fact that she always appeared genuinely content to see him. It may not have necessarily been love, but there was certainly far more affection than his parents had ever demonstrated for each other. Ptolemy suspected, though, that his presence had a great deal to do with that. Born less than nine months after their wedding night it was impossible to silence speculation about his paternity. That Philip was his true sire was something that had long been rumoured and was largely looked upon as the truth. Ptolemy himself preferred not to think on it, happy with his lot and saw no need to shake things up.
"You have gotten lost inside that great brain of yours again," Thais sighed dramatically, her lilting voice snaking its way into his thoughts. "I had hoped to prevent that this night."
Unclasping his cloak, Ptolemy smiled fondly at her. "You are most certainly a welcome distraction from my thoughts."
"A woman is always glad to hear such things," she murmured, holding a hand out in his direction.
By the time he reached the bed, Ptolemy had shed all but his boots. When he would have leaned down to remove them, Thais grabbed hold of his upper arms, tumbling him onto the bed.
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Her entire body felt swollen, her skin uncomfortably tight. She had long ago forgotten her body's regular contours as her stomach expanded with the weight of her second child in as many years. Eurydike knew that she could not complain because Philip seemed to have genuine affection for her and their infant daughter. He would visit the nursery at least once a week, often with some trinket designed to bring a smile to the young girl's face. He had been in early that day with a rag doll that had made Europa coo and giggle while she waved it about in her chubby hands.
Eurydike was relieved that her uncle Attalus would not be present for the birth of her second child. She loved him dearly, but despised the power games he played with her and her children. Even before Europa had been born, her uncle had been trying to see to it that the child replaced Alexander as heir to the throne. He had made a drunken spectacle of himself at the wedding, likening Alexander to his mad mother and insisting that he was not fit for the throne.
"At last, Macedon has a queen we can be proud of!" Attalus cried, raising his glass high in the air. "All that is lacking now is a true Macedonian prince!"
The entire hall fell silent and even from a distance Eurydike had been able to see Alexander's hackles rising. More frightening was the boy at his side, the Athenian. When her eyes landed on him, Eurydike feared for her uncle's life. Like most others in the palace she knew the tales of what had been done to him in Illyria, including the account of the page he had killed. So when his hand went to the knife belted at his waist, Eurydike knew with an almost certainty that were it not for Alexander's restraining hand on his arm Hephaestion Amyntoros would have killed her uncle that night.
"What am I then, you old fool, if not a Macedonian prince?" Alexander shouted at Attalus, his hand still on Hephaestion's wrist.
"The bastard son of a witch!"
"How can you hope to rule Macedon when you cannot even control your own mother?"
His right arm free, Hephaestion hurled a goblet at her uncle, striking him square in the face. For one endless second everyone was silent, eyes darting between the general and the cavalryman. All were wondering who Philip would choose to support, his wife's uncle or his son's lover.
"The both of you sit!" Philip roared, lurching to his feet. He wavered momentarily, but kept his feet. "Shame on the lot of you, harping on like a bunch of washerwomen when you are kin now. Attalus, that Mollossian bitch has naught to do with me or my son and I will not have you questioning his legitimacy. Alexander, quit being so damned sensitive and keep Hephaestion under control. I want no bloodshed tonight."
Philip had wobbled the whole time he spoke, but the sound of his voice never wavered. All was silent till at last Alexander sat, pulling Hephaestion down with him. Hephaestion immediately picked up a new goblet, smirking at a red-faced Attalus.
At the sight, Philip began to chortle, clapping Attalus on the shoulder as he sat back down. "You would be wise not to attack Alexander with his watch dog present. He will strike in the most unpleasant ways."
Horrible as it was to even think, Eurydike had been quite amused to see her uncle hit in the face with the goblet. The expression on his face immediately afterwards had been utterly amusing, his cheeks reddening like tomatoes and his eyes bulging out.
It had been a relief when her first child was born a girl and hoped that her luck would hold when the next child was born. She did not want to give her uncle further reasons for intrigue nor did she want Alexander to have reason to kill Attalus when Philip died. Alexander had proven himself well and unless Philip lived until any son she bore reached his majority, a regent would be necessary. A second girl would keep things uncomplicated.
If the child she carried did turn out to be a son, Eurydike vowed to never treat it as Philip's former queen had treated her son. She stroked a hand over her stomach, unable to comprehend causing her child such pain. From the moment Europa had been born, she had wanted to do nothing but protect her young daughter. Olympias' madness had nearly destroyed Alexander and even now the raw edges of him could still sometimes be glimpsed.
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With utter meticulation, Philip went over the latest reports he had of Olympias' actions in Epirus. There were weekly dispatches from Dodona whose sole purpose was to record Olympias every act to ensure that she did not have power to cause mischief in either Epirus or in Macedon. Alexander was doing well without his mother's interference, the two of them getting on better than they had in years. Philip dreaded to think of what could have happened at his wedding had Olympias still been able to influence the boy. As it was, though he could not generally admit so, he had been impressed with Hephaestion's aim that night. Amyntor's son was even more frightening with a javelin.
About a month before he had received a long and rambling letter from Attalus, who was leading half of the advance army, touting the virtues of some Carian princess and insisted that she would be the perfect bride for Alexander. Even before he discovered that the princess was only eight years old, Philip had been wary. Subtle as he tried to be about it, all knew that Attalus was determined to see that Alexander was not heir. However, there was no worthwhile alternative and despite what Attalus wanted to believe, Philip had no intention of naming an infant as his successor when he had a full grown son with an excellent military record.
Proud as he was of Alexander, Philip would have preferred it if his son already had a successor of his own. An illegitimate son at least if not a son born in wedlock. Several of his companions already had at least one or two and provided barracks gossip proved accurate, two men had sired children on the same girl. Alexander had no such sons and had not even seemed to show much interest in the hetaeras that so fascinated his friends. . Were it not for his relationship with Hephaestion, Philip would have worried about the boy. In time Philip was certain that his son would seek release between the thighs of some girl. If Alexander was smart, though, he would only marry for political reasons and for heirs. Love only complicated the marriage bed.
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The evening meal was due to start soon, but Hephaestion could not bear to untangle himself from Alexander. Nor did his love appear to be in any hurry either. It seemed a small eternity since he and Alexander had been able to enjoy a lazy afternoon together and Hephaestion wanted to indulge as much as possible.
"Do you think the others will notice if we abstain from joining them in the hall tonight?" Alexander said into Hephaestion's hair.
"Notice and remark on it," Hephaestion chuckled, tilting his head back so that he could see Alexander's face. "And take great pleasure doing so I would wager."
Alexander's amused grunt was certainly acknowledgment enough. Craning his neck a bit, Alexander touched his lips to Hephaestion's. "Let them wait."