CHAPTER 1: CLEITUS, THE BLACK.
"A true friend stabs you in the front" (Oscar Wilde)
Before drawing his last breath, Cleitus focused his nearly lifeless dark but red-rimmed eyes on the man beside the king who was dressed in a dark orange robe and wearing silk trousers, his hair loose and his smooth cheeks covered by a thick beard. The nearly dead man saw the deep pain in those cerulean pools of heaven, eyes he had learnt to love in secret and to feel lust for their owner for the last twenty years.
Cleitus also saw his life passing at a slow pace before his eyes, as if it were the illustrated edition of one of those books "his brunette pretty boy" used to read and carry with him wherever he went. There had been times when the elder black warrior had felt a rush of jealousy whenever he saw the brunette Hephaestion with a book in his hands, mainly because he wanted to be one of those books, in that way he would be able to rest onto those milky thighs that drove him crazy or he would be carried against the warm and strong chest as if he were a dear possession for the blue-eyed man. He also saw with envy how his slender but strong fingers move tenderly over the lines written on them, his attention really focused on those letters as if those paper sheets filled with scribbles were the smooth skin of his beloved. He was also resentful of those velvety rose lips that mouthed lowly those written words as if he were murmuring words of love into the ear of his lover, resting on his lap.
The images running before his eyes stopped suddenly in the first page of that book that was his life, especially in the first page of that special chapter that took place twenty years ago in the city of Mieza and so the dying man remembered that event with sad happiness.
He remembered seeing this outstanding man at the tender age of seven, all big bones and skin, no fat or muscles inside the slender body but that was still quite tall for his age. His hair, the colour of dark honey, reached his shoulders, which was not a common length for boys but it looked good on him.
The young soldier was quite distracted by the arrival of the newcomers and their belongings when he realized that a young boy was nearby. The boy covered the short distance between them, stood up firmly in front of him, looked up and down, assessing the tall man's body in front of him and, fixing his sky-blue eyes on the dark as coal ones, he expressed his opinion of the man he had in front of him in a rich voice with a slight Athenian accent.
"When I grow up, I will be a brave warrior as you are" the little voice came out clearly from the boy's lips.
The young man looked down at the boy in astonishment; it was uncommon to get a positive and appraising reaction as that one. In fact, most of the children around that area used to be terribly afraid of him and he also knew that some women threatened their little ones with calling Big Black Cleitus if they behaved badly. He laughed at that because he always reminded himself that it was better to be feared than forgotten; he didn't know that years later those some feelings would mean the death of him.
The warrior looked down into those sky-blue eyes and asked with his thunderous voice:
"Why do you say that? How do you know that I am a brave soldier?"
"Because you have as many scars as my papa has and he is the bravest soldier of the Macedonian army" said the boy without backing a single step.
"Oh yes? Who is your papa, boy?" asked Cleitus with a big smirk in his lips.
"My papa is Amyntas Amyntoros, Diplomat and General in King Philip's army" said the little brunette with his voice so filled with pride that it made Cleitus feel envious of such tender devotion and love. "Do you know him, sir?" Hephaestion asked with certainty in his voice, as if it was just natural that his papa were known by this brave warrior.
"Of course I do, everybody in this Army knows your father, not only because he is a brave warrior and an excellent tactician but also because he is intelligent and a merciful diplomat" Cleitus answered seriously, seeing a small version of the older warrior in the little boy standing by his side and he prayed silently to all the gods and goddesses in Mount Olympus that this boy could become as good as his father had always been.
The exchange of greetings was over and Hephaestion turned round and was about to run towards the palace when he stopped suddenly. He drew a big breath, squared his shoulders and turned round again and looking at Cleitus he asked with a firm voice:
"Would you let me be part of your arm when I became a soldier?"
The little boy was waiting for his answer and the young man realized that his reply was important for the little one. He stared back and said in a loud tone:
"Only if you are very good, I would not expect less from an Amyntoros"
"I will work very hard to deserve that honour, I will never complain and I am good at following orders" the little boy said without breathing, as if he wanted to convince the warrior to take him without a doubt.
"If that is so, come and see me as soon as you start your training, you may change your mind and become more a man with words than with swords; both kind of men are very necessary but I am a brute, I will not be able to help you with your academic studies but it will be my honour to train you in the art of war, if that is what you still want when the right time comes"
"I will not change my mind, I want to help my king so he can reach his dreams and take us as far as possible, where we can meet new peoples, cultures, languages and so the unknown world will no longer be known as unknown but as Macedonian" said the boy with such eloquence that he left the man mute for some minutes.
"You truly know what you want to be when you grow up, I will try to stay near in case you need me and my strong arms to defend you; and now you have reminded me that there is another boy who you may like to meet, he is as physically opposed to you as the day is to the night but you both share the same dreams and both speak with such nice words and passion that I am sure that you two would convince Dionysus to stay sober forever".
Cleitus spoke his words from the bottom of his heart, believing every single one of them. He really wanted to be part of this strong-willed boy's life because he was sure he would be an important member of the kingdom. He lowered his gaze towards the boy who was looking back at him with his eyes wide open as if he could not believe the words that had just left the soldier's mouth.
Suddenly the little boy threw his head backwards and laughed loudly and Cleitus looked with wonder at his new and prospective charge, the boy had the most infectious and pure laughter he had listened to in a long time and he realized that the blue eyed-boy had captured his heart forever.
Life had never been gentle with Cleitus; he had lost his whole family when he was eleven and he only had a single elder sister called Lanike who worked as a maid in the palace. That was how Cleitus met King Philip and became his page at a very early age. From that very moment, the twelve-year-old boy embraced the military life with passion, distinguishing in wrestling, weapons handling and having huge reserves of endless stamina. The only drawback was his temper that was always fierce and rather uncontrollable. By chance, he did show his manliness in battle, at an early age and having saved his king's life and got wounded in the process, he was assigned as a personal guard to the king. The young soldier developed a deep crush towards his king and he was rewarded when he was taken under Philip's guard as his eromenos.
Cleitus used to see everything through Philip's eyes and so he tended to agree with most of his opinions. Many of the elder army men laughed at him, calling him Philip's lap dog and after having suffered that humiliation for many months, he decided to stop being so submissive and so he started to speak up, loudly, without thinking twice before spitting the words, many times as lethal as any of the weapons he was so used to handling. Years later, that impulsive personality would bring his own death.
Life brought him a breath of fresh air when he met Hephaestion and they were connected nearly immediately even though the soldier was fifteen years older than the newcomer.
Cleitus had early decided to look after the young brunette that grew into an outstanding youth. The companion was now in his late twenties and Hephaestion was nearly fifteen, a perfect age to take an erastes. Cleitus decided that he would let the young brunette know that he was interested and available if he was ready to pursue that kind of relationship. It also helped that a very influential woman had given him her blessing in this subject and she was wiling to help him as he loved Hephaestion too much.
Cleitus was a man on a mission, he started to appear during the wrestling practice and watched as the young Hephaestion had mastered some movements of his own, giving him supremacy over the other wrestlers, even the prince. It was well-known among the young companions that Hephaestion never let Alexander win as the rest used to do and that attitude was highly appreciated by Cleitus because he could see that Hephaestion was a good influence for the young prince but that he had also retained inside the strength to be a man who could fight his own battles and did not need Alexander's influence and name to become the remarkable man that Cleitus knew he would be.
However, Cleitus used to laugh internally whenever the prince was defeated by his friend, because even though the prince recognized Hephaestion's superiority, he got still flustered and angry because it was difficult for him to accept a defeat. But Hephaestion had a noble soul and his care for the prince was so big that one day he let the prince win in order to let Alexander have some peace of mind. However, the prince, who could read his friend as easily as he read his dear "Iliad", got really angry and he did not mind accusing Hephaestion of being lenient with the Macedonian heir.
An utterly distraught Hephaestion ran towards the barracks looking for his friend and adviser. Cleitus, who was coming from the communal baths with only a thin towel wrapped around his waist, saw himself with an armful of Hephaestion, who hid his head in the crook of Cleitus's neck.
Cleitus was not accustomed to the youth's reaction so he let his instinct guide him and so he put one of his arms around the slender waist while the other rubbed up and down the brunette's back. He listened to some muffled words against the side of his neck but he could not make out what Hephaestion was saying clearly. He pushed the young man backwards softly, until he was at an arm's length and wiped some tears away the cerulean eyes with his strong thumbs. Hephaestion looked slightly upwards, the former skinny boy was just half a head shorter than Cleitus, and whispered a muffled "Why?" and the brave warrior, who could take up to twenty men in battle without sweating, could not comfort the youth in his arms.
He racked his fingers through the shoulder-length bronze tresses, massaging the scalp, trying to give some soothe. After some minutes his mission was accomplished and he could see how a deep blush spread from Hephaestion's head to his neck. He tried to hide it because he did not want Cleitus to think of him as a weak man, especially now when he had the strong intention to be a soldier in Cleitus's cavalry section.
But the elder man did not see this as weakness but he quickly decided to take advantage of the situation between these two friends, maybe this was the opportunity he was seeking to get Hephaestion for himself, away from prince Alexander, and make him his eromenos. It could be as easy as killing two birds with only one sling shot.
TBC
Thanks so much for the alerts and reviews! i am so happy because this story has already 167 hits but I'd like to have more opinion about ti!
Queendel: thanks and you will see a veru strong Hephaestion here!
