Epilogue
"Never have I wanted for this to happen, Phaistion!", you say suddenly; I have not even noticed you entering.
And I have not noticed you standing behind me – reading every word I have written.
Every single thing I wrote, about Cleitos, about – everyone, everything.
And your voice sounds broken to my ears as you wrap your arms around me and nuzzle my head with yours.
"If only you would have said something, Phaistion! Why did you suffer so in silence, instead of coming to me and telling me all this?"
I pull him close and look deeply into his tear-filled eyes.
"How can I ever make up for all this, Phaistion? How can I make up for all this suffering I have caused you? Dry all those tears you have wept because of me..? I would dearly love to do that, believe me... I have felt the same, believe it or not..."
"You?", I ask in disbelief and you nod, wipe away those tears and caress my hair that is probably hanging into my face messily.
"Yes, I have felt the same – only from the other side. Believe me – I, too, have suffered. And above all I did not know what to do to get close to you. You were so distant and often hostile... and I have known about Cleitos. I have watched you; you have not noticed for sure. I have watched the both of you... again and again, I have been your shadow... and I have suffered with you... but I never knew why you were doing it, why you endured everything he did to you... that I was to blame! Phaistion, I cannot tell you how sorry I am... and I want it to end, I want no more suffering for either of us, that – we..."
I put an end to his stammering by kissing him deeply and vigorously. And I ask myself how blind I have been through all those years.
How could I have not seen him – how could I have been ignorant of his feelings? How great was my selfishness?
But all this is over now, this I promise to myself. For now that I have him here in my arms and me make love for the first time, everything is right and good, and it seems this is the way it was supposed to be from the beginning, that in another time and place everything would have been different – that we would have been spared all this pain, if...
If HE had not been...
And while I am loosing myself in the arms of the one who has brought so much suffering for me without ever intending to – an unbelievable plan forms inside of me.
Unspeakable.
So unspeakable that I almost do not dare to make it known to him afterwards – but that is the way it has to be.
He looks at me with beautiful, wide brown eyes, and in them I recognize love – pure, undivided love.
And I have to hear it, I have to know it before I can put my trust in him.
"Do you love me?", I ask and he nods, again close to tears. But I want to know more, this is not enough. I do not yet trust him completely.
"Do you love him also?"
The question is out of my mouth and without missing a heartbeat he shakes his head vigorously.
"Then what is it that draws you to him, Bagoas?" I want to know. I have a right to know, after all those years, after all this suffering.
"He is my master", he responds, simple and direct, and he lowers his head as he continues. "He is my king and I serve him. Iwas used to serve in every way. Never was I asked if I wanted to or not – I served – with my body. Never did I serve with my soul. This I kept for myself – until I saw you for the first time, back then in Babylon... As Sisygambis mistook you for the king – and I did so, too. I felt my heart reaching out to you, falling for you, but you were not king, HE was... and I also knew that your heart belonged to Sikander. Until I saw you with Cleitos – that confused me greatly. But I did not know why you were doing this. I thought you were his', solely and completely... but now that I have read, I understand. All those nights, Phaistion – I never had one moment of happiness, and you were lonely – he has made both of us unhappy."
Still I hesitate.
But then I pluck up my courage.
I put forward the plan that has invaded my mind.
November: Hephaistion dies in Ekbatana.
The following June: Alexander dies in Babylon.
Bagoas is smiling as he crawles under the covers, joining me.
We are in Samarkand.
No one knows us, no one bothers us.
The gold we took along will gift us with a comfortable life.
Here, in Samarkand, everything is possible. We are modest, and we live.
And we love.
There is no one left that makes us kneel before them. There is no one left we call King. The king is dead, and only we know why he died.
The poison Bagoas gave me in Ekbatana effected me long enough to make me appear dead, and short enough to allow me to flee. The body Alexander burned with great pomp was that of a servant that died shortly before, by coincidence.
Bagoas remained at Alexander's side for eight month afterwards, while I was already waiting for him in Samarkand. Then, Alexander died and the poison, oh Erinyes, the poison was prepared by myself. For always have poisons and concoctions been my art, I never stopped concerning myself with them. The sciences have never ceased to captivate me.
And Bagoas, my little, beautiful, beloved Bagoas handed him the goblet from which he greedily drank the wine... mixed with the best, most fatal and undetectable poison my repertoire holds.
Yes, he watched his master die – and maybe he felt regret this very moment, but he never showed it.
Alexander crumpled to the floor with a loud cry, the goblet slipping from his fingers, and he never rose again.
As I can hear, people are still trying to solve the riddle of how the Great Alexander, for that is what they call him now, found his death.
However – I am not concerned by it, for I have been dead before him.
I have been dead for years.
Bagoas was the one who resurrected me. – and unfortunate Cleitos, may the gods be merciful in the halls of everlasting darkness, out of whose hands I received the pain that made me alive.
Alexander has his glory – and I have my love.
fin
