Would this infernal suffering never cease?
Alexander reclined on the couch with a silver cup held, unsteadily, in his hand. Wine had flown freely all through the evening and now into the night. Many men had reached the stage of drunken stupor that embarrassed the king as they made toasts to his health and only succeeded in reminding him of his drunken fool of a father. A great number had been carried away by the guards and many more led away by the beautiful dancers. Not nearly as beautiful as his own Bagoas however.
The boy had captivated with his silken, raven locks and slow movements to represent the very being of Eros; jewellery flashing in the firelight. The steady thrumming of the music beat in time to Alexander's heart and it's quickened pace heightened the sense of excitement he had felt when he had watched the dancers move so intimately. He felt little flush at the thought of Bagoas however. The swish of his long hair conjured memories of a different being. One who held his heart so completely that he took over his mind as well. Hephaestion. Beautiful and sweet Hephaestion.
Alexander glanced towards him now, brief and subtle. As he had been doing all night with the hope that his generals did not notice. They were fine men, loyal and skilled in battle, yet they were jealous and cruel towards his love for Hephaestion. Though his love would never speak of these things to him, it was clear that when Alexander was absent he became the subject of ridicule and spite. The blue eyed beauty was never invited to their drinking parties and taunted as being 'The King's Whore'.
His Phai was robed in the beautiful furs that he lamented his buying for him and the kohl around his eyes only added to his beauty. It was no secret to Alexander how many men in the camp lusted after him let alone the women. When he passed they would take a side-wards glance and lick their lips, knowing they could look but they could never touch. Phai of course was oblivious to their true intent. He believed they mocked him, afraid to speak out publicly but inwardly thinking cruel taunts.
One of his most endearing qualities was his inability to recognise his own beauty. It kept him pure and without vanity. He never would understand the burning of men's desire for him, to claim him as their own at least once. The King however, knowing how to recognise the signs of such lust, could see it everywhere. Even a little in the generals who mocked him. Some may claim it as jealousy but Alexander had seen how the men watched him on a march when they stopped to bathe in the river. Such beauty is commonplace in the Hareem but matched with Hephaestion's intelligence, wit and strength it is no wonder he is envied.
He catches the king's eye and swiftly looks away. This is their little game at times. To tease until one of them yields to desire. He is quiet and reserved with everyone but Alexander. With him he is the definition of passion and at times the very epitome of filthy. The bright flash of his eyes is enough to capture his interest away from the eunuch. Bagoas sat beside him now and feeds him from the bowl, something intimate and comfortable in any other setting but here with Phai so close by it felt wrong. He wished to see the slender fingers of another reach out to feed him, to see his mouth open slightly involuntarily as he waits for his king to accept the food. He wishes it to be blue eyes shining at him.
I glance back at him and my heart jitters a little when I see that an argument has broken out upon the balcony just slightly higher but well within my vision. His head snaps back as he receives a blow to the mouth and I feel myself standing. I have startled Bagoas who has dropped the dish and there is a hushed silence that enables the escalating fight to be heard.
"You think you are his equal, strutting in his clothes and acting like you were the king himself," Cleitus stands unsteady in front of him, obscuring Hephaestion's no doubt calm expression from view. His drunk staggering however reveals Hephaestion who waves a hand at him in dismissal.
"You are drunk, Cleitus."
He catches a look at Alexander and nods at him to assure him that all is fine. The rowdiness around the fire has resumed and it is straining to hear them but the king pays great attention.
"What makes you so special," Cleitus demands. He points at Phai accusingly. "Hmm? Must be a real pleasure in the bed chamber if he keeps you around. Do you scream for him, pretty one?"
His tone changes and he advances on Hephaestion, reaching out to stroke his cheek. My blood begins to boil in such a way that the heat clouds my vision. I am stepping towards them. Phai pushes him away, telling him to go to bed.
"Only if you join me," Cleitus laughs loudly and there is a rumble of laughter from the surrounding men. Traitors! Betrayal! I will have them all flogged. I am shamed to see that even now, my beautiful Hephaestion is too meek to fight back. He is a soldier! He could easily put Cleitus in his place but instead he looks to me. He does not wish to embarrass me or my men. He allows himself to be a target to save political dispute. It sickens me to see this intelligent man mocked by someone like Cleitus.
"Enough," I say wearily but they do not seem to hear me. This angers me further.
"Go on lover boy, spread your legs like you do for the king," Cleitus reaches forward and takes hold of Hephaestion. I watch their scrabbling in horror, too drunk to react with anything other than shock at the conduct of one of my generals. Phai struggles against the awkward hold he has him in and I am thankful that others step in to cease his behaviour. I take a swift drink of the wine in my hand and go to sit down upon my couch again when I hear Hephaestion cry out. I turn to look and it becomes clear to me that what I thought were Samaritans were in fact, accomplices. Cleitus' servers hold his arms behind him as this traitor kisses him, pulling aside his robe to molest him.
They turn suddenly; everyone in the room. They are staring at me. I must have cried out but I did not realise. Hephaestion takes the opportunity to wriggle free from their grasp.
"Alexander," he calls out to me as he leans over the balcony, pleading. Anyone else would be pleading for me to arrest them and have them executed. But I know my Phai. He is pleading for them to be spared.
"Alexander, he is drunk. Not in his mind, he means no offense," Phai says loudly though the deathly silence means even a whisper could be heard. "Please, my love."
Cleitus laughs a cold laugh.
"I do not need the whore to defend me. If you spread your legs like a woman then you shall be treated as one," he addresses the room but the other men look away. "I merely expressed the desires of everyone in this room," he yells. "To put you in your rightful place," he grins. "At the king's feet!"
I watch in horror as he kicks Hephaestion, who struggles for a half a second, trying to find purchase, before falling over the edge of the balcony to the tiles below. I do not see him because of the gathering of men that surround him. Suddenly there are strong arms gripping me at both sides and I can hear the most heart-breaking scream. It is only when I draw a breath do I realise the sound came from myself.
"Hephaestion!"
The crowd breaks apart as I stagger towards him. I can only imagine my mother's face if she were to see how un-kingly I look as I fall to my knees and vomit from the violent clenching of my stomach. The crowd dissipates further and I scramble over to where he lays, his limbs at angles that suggest something is so very wrong. I look up and find Cleitus staring down at the scene as though he is unsure how it came to be. He does not try to run. He knows I would hunt him down.
"Phai," I murmur as I push his brown locks away from his face. He is pale as ash, blood still congealing on his lips from the earlier blow. My heart is broken. I pray to Zeus that he remains in the world of the living and I can hear someone telling me that the doctor is here. Hands pull me away from him and I do not resist. It is Bagoas. Somehow that makes it worse.