Needs Met

Author: Lysis

Copyright June 2012

After battle, Alexander has several things on his mind, but one stands foremost.


All had gone well. The portents of the battle line sacrifices had been good ones the gods had held their back, Nike had been theirs. The pyres were burning low, the count of dead and wounded was not as bad as had been predicted, this always pleased him. The Companion Cavalry had lost fewer horses than expected; he could breathe a little easier. He sent up a silent prayer of thanks to Zeus. Alexander, king of the Macedonians strode back toward his quarters he was tired but pleased.

He had walked the camp, visited the wounded, his usual practice after a battle. His own wound seen to, he checked the bandage on his leg, again, there was no seepage, Philip, his physician would not fret come morning when he would check it, again. With a wave of his hand, he motioned to the Seven to follow at a fair distance. He wished some silence and for some reason the tramp of their feet and rattle of their armour disturbed him. He turned ever so slightly and caught the tall figure of Hephaistion, his helm glittering in the setting sun. Wood smoke and the savoury scent of roasting meat tickled his nostrils and his mouth watered. He grinned and began to hum.

Now all he wished for was a bath, some wine, food, and a good night's sleep. Still, one thing lingered, persisting, and would not let him rest. As always, it pricked him like the scab of a healing wound, giving no peace with its insistent itch. Usually after battle, he desired only rest and peace, then once that was gained an evening passed in good company with his companions. Occasionally, a night with a pretty youth, there was a new page, Dionysius, whose lithe body enticed him just a bit, and the boy showed promise at his duties. Clearly, he was eager to please it was writ clear on his face. For a moment, he shuffled faces in his mind, searching... ah, yes. His father, Leonnatus, son of Androkles, a good man, a veteran of high regard, had served with distinction under his Father, Philip. Good things might come of such a mentoring. He would admit that tonight he was still a bit restless; a bit of bed sport might relieve it and help him sleep.

Hmm, yes, he decided with a smile, he might indulge that itch. First, though he would see to what needed doing.

The corral was quiet, he peered into the distance, Boukephalus stood under a tree. He turned at the sound of his master's voice and trotted over. The black stallion nudged his master's arm and took the proffered apple crunching it quickly in his great teeth. Alexander smiled as he stroked his broad forehead. He checked his legs, flank, neck and head. He had been groomed and tended to his coat shone and was smooth as silk. He kissed the wet nose and received the swipe of red tongue in return. Laughing, he coughed and cleared his throat. That caused a stir among the Seven he could hear the quick movement of light footsteps, without turning he knew Hephaistion had advanced just a bit. Alexander signed all was well and shook his head. He sighed, and with one last kiss to Boukephalus' brow, turned heading toward his tent, now he could rest, all was well.

finis