Part 4

Takes up directing following Part 3.

WARNING: There will be a complete lack of reverence for everything in this story.

Silence is seething, not golden.

It is seething and full of the sound of grumbling questioning male voices. Alexander and his Macedonians were for the first few minutes stunned by the sound of the gun shot, but dear little Alex is not going to be known as the conqueror of the world for nothing. He takes a step forward, I'll say this for him, he's gutsy. He speaks to me, very clearly, calmly, but firmly. I don't know exactly what he's saying, but am fairly certain it's the ancient Greek/Macedonian equal event of "give me the f…..g gun". He even holds his hand out. I look over at Jordan, for less than a second, and my hand lowers, but to my side, away from Alexander.

Jordan shakes her head "no". I look at him the Boy King is getting a very persuasive look in his eye maybe I should rethink this. This guy is not afraid of this gun. Either he really is the son of Zeus or as wacko as they come. No, I remind myself, he's never seen a gun before and doesn't really know what it can do to a side of beef, or the head of a human being. Maybe he needs another demonstration.

I'm on the verge of lifting and pointing at a grain bucket, when we are treated to the arrival of a friendly little group of guys. They come bounding up like a pack of wild hounds, screaming something outlandish that sounds like EiEiOOOOOO and it just sends shivers down my spine. Several have those sharp nasty little kopis' out at the ready and look like they'd enjoy some pincushion practice. For a moment I panic, what if they kill Jordan? Oh, she'll be so mad if that happens before she gets to see Hephaistion!

While I'm doing all this thinking, too much thinking, (I should have kept my eye on Alexander) a large shadow looms over me. I look up in time to see Alexander's eyes sparkle at the shadow. Just when I'm about to check out this "shadow" that has him grinning like an idiot, yeah, I do have an idea whose shadow this is. I hear a familiar voice swearing at them.

Cassandra! Damn, damn, damn, damn! I can't see her, but apparently Jordan can. She is none too pleased and is gesturing to her with her hands. Things are getting sticky enough already without another unexpected factor in this equation. Still, Cassandra can be useful in a fight. Like Jordan and Xena; and where the Hades is Xena anyway; Cassandra isn't some squealing little piece of fluff. If the Macedonians don't believe in Amazon's well by the time we finish with them they just might! So there!

But how did she find us? I thought we left her happily back in the hotel room. She said she wanted to sleep. Last I saw her she was tucked up sweetly with a cup of tea with a little something extra in it and a picture of Alexander she'd gotten from the museum gift shop. Well, is she ever going to be in for a surprise? Stupid me, I turn at the sound of her voice, and find myself sandwiched between Alexander and another tall Macedonian. This one is the Apollo-Ares brand, arrogant as can be. He exudes: "look at me and weep or beg because you'll never see anyone quite like me again." He's six feet and maybe a bit more. They must come out of their mother's wombs like this, breathtakingly beautiful, and deadly as hell looking. He looks like he eats people like Jordan, Xena, Melina and I for a snack. His eyes lock together with Alexander and I have the weirdest feeling this, copper haired, blue eyed Apollo is none other than Hephaistion. Besides the erotic energy bouncing back and forth between these two dudes is unmistakable. Alexander, who is already half undressed, yes, the skirt of his chiton is now covering the royal jewels, but the top has come undone and his broad muscular chest is bare. Hephaistion, who else can it be brushes a hand along Alexander's chest. It's a good thing they're out here in a public place, 'cause, ah, if they were in a tent somewhere, I think things would be getting pretty hot right about now.

The guy's face is perfect, absolutely not a scar on it, and really is breathtaking. Oh, you can tell by the way he moves, breathes and no doubt even pisses he is most assuredly aware of it. They really are a perfect couple, Mr. and Mr. Supreme Macedonian Warrior and Ruler of the World.

Not a word is spoken between the two men, but suddenly my hands are being twisted, by this beauteous Ares and Alexander steps up to me as though to embrace me.

Oh, yuck! Where ever did that myth come from that he smelled so pleasant? It's just a damn lie! He pulls the gun from my clenched fingers, and he's none to gentle about it, either! My foot slides out, I'm thinking of tripping him, when suddenly Jordan yells. Thank the gods she's finally gotten back into working mode. She starts trying to explain to Alexander and the big guy, whom she too is suspecting of being Hephaistion, because she flat out addresses him as Hephaistion, son of Amyntor, to which he gives her a mighty frown, but shakes his curly locks in agreement. Anyway, she's trying to explain to Alexander who now has my gun pointing the barrel up right at his pretty little face. I mutter under my breath "Go ahead and fire it, Alexander, it won't hurt, you're a god, after all." Hephaistion hears me mumbling and doesn't like the tone and grabs me by the hair. I'm really getting tired of this hair pulling stuff, and with a growl try and pull my head back in the other direction. Alexander scowls at Hephaistion and shock of the day, he lets go of it! But he keeps his large paws locked on my hands. I'm beginning to think I don't like Hephaistion, Alexander's eromenos or not.

I feel like a ping pong ball as I turn my head back and forth watching them as they "chat". Hephaistion has his left hand on his hip and his head tilts rather like Alexander's. I think maybe they were born as twins, but Alexander got pulled out of the oven too soon, 'cause he's not as tall. Their facial expressions are very similar except Alexander uses his hands constantly to express his feelings, I guess. He looks like he's conducting an orchestra. I just wish he wasn't holding the loaded, safety off gun in his hand as it sways through the air. I try to get Jordan's attention, but she's also locked her gaze on the Alexander/Hephaistion show. Well, maybe more the Hephaistion show. Her eyes have gone soft and dreamy.

"Lexy, would you look at his lips? They are sooo pretty." She murmurs softly. Yeah, he's got 'em too, kissable lips, pretty lips, just like Alexander. Too bad of all the dudes to be fully dressed this is the one guy I think Jordan and I would have preferred to see sans chiton. We can't see his thighs! However, watching Jordan, when I'm not watching Alexander and the gun, I can tell that if anyone, other than Alexander can get a glimpse of those thighs, Jordan will. She has very determined, steely glint in her eyes.

Then both Hephaistion and Alexander glower with major irritation at Jordan, but they do give her their attention and let her speak. How they can understand her is beyond me. Come to think of it, how is it that they can understand her? Then I realize she's not speaking English. When did she become fluent in ancient whatever? I'm beginning to wonder what exactly is going on here.

I pause for half-a second to think. Okay, we did the ritual as Olympiada had written it down. I got all the things she'd written for us, even the strange smelling herby things in the little pouch from that really weird shop in Pella. Oh, I haven't really mentioned her before now, sorry. She's the final member of our little group. We picked her up in Athens, where she joined our tour group. She's really cool, has the most gorgeous long, curly red hair. Also, she knows scads of stuff about Alexander and Hephaistion. I think she must be an historian or the like. I've never met someone who knows so much about them. It was really her idea to go out to Mieza. I'd sort of forgotten that. Come to think of it, she wasn't there when we were doing the ritual. Right when we were all piling in the jeep for a drive out to Mieza she got an urgent phone call and told us to go without her, she'd join up with us later.

I watch Jordan as she talks to Alexander and Hephaistion. They don't manhandle her or pull her hair. I guess I wore the wrong clothes. She's trying in a not so obvious way to keep from flat out staring at Hephaistion, who is clearly intent on every word she is saying. She looks over at me and says they think the gun is a gift from Zeus since it carries the sound of thunder.

"Alexander wants to know if you are from Zeus also? Who was your father? Who are your ancestors?" She looks at me expectantly, "He also wants to know if the gun can be used to throw a thunderbolt, and if yes, would like a demonstration."

"Demanding little bugger isn't he?" Clearly she doesn't care for my tone. I think she is turning into a mini-Macedonian before my very eyes. She seems to have developed a very Hephaistion like gesture, with her left hand on her hip and tilt of her head while waiting for my explanation. This is not good!

I snort, and look up at Alexander, the horse doctor, and say to her, "Yeah, tell him, I'm from Zeus and he'd better tow the line or else." She looks at me and shakes her head, and says, "You really want me to tell him that?"

"Hell if I know what to say to him! Tell him, ah..." I can't think right now, my mind has gone sort of blank. I think it's finally hitting me. We, Jordan, Cassandra and Xena, wherever the hell Xena is, are here in ancient Macedonia. Or some ancient place. Oh god, I think for a moment, looking around quickly thinking horses, Xena! What if she stole one and has fallen off and is lying injured, bleeding or unconscious somewhere! I'm about to go into a spin when Alexander, who must be able read minds or is good at understanding expressions says something to me, I look to Jordan for the translation and suddenly Alexander the stinky and his glowering side kick, Hephaistion are almost squeezing me to death between them. I'm a second away from putting my hand on the filthy royal chest in front of me, so I can get some air, fresh air, when Jordan hisses at me "Come up with something fast, I need to tell them something and it had better be good."

I shake my head, roll my eyes, and smile at Alexander as sweetly as I can because he's studying me too intently for me to be comfortable and say, "Okay, tell them I am a messenger from Egypt and the Scorpion goddess Selket, and I, ah, am bring new gifts to help him defeat the Persians or whoever he's conquering right now."

I turn, or try to, but really can't because Hephaistion has become my new back bone. I just want to try and get an idea of the timeframe. Suddenly, my eye catches the deep wine colored scar on Alexander' left shoulder. Gaza! We're past Gaza, or he wouldn't have the scar there. Quickly I scan him, ignoring certain areas, or trying to anyway. There, another major scar on his right thigh, that was from Gaugamela. An awful thought comes to me, I hope we're not in India. Oh, thank God, there's no scar in his right breast. So, we're somewhere after Gaugamela and before India. Oh wonderful! That's could be just about anywhere. I wonder if he's already picked up his little wifey, Roxanne?

I make faces at Jordan and hiss back, "Go on tell them that. Tell them you're my protector. Otherwise Hephaistion might make you do latrine duty, and I know you don't want to do that, even to please Hephaistion, oh, he of the beauteous thighs." She hisses at me and for a second both our eyes' stray toward Hephaistion's lower body.

Hmmm, you can make out the barest outline under the thin fabric of his chiton of his anatomy. I look at her, raise one eyebrow think to myself, "I'd never to do this for anyone else, but since I'm depending on you to save my skin…" I lean ever so slowly against him, opps! I lose my balance grab onto the skirt of his chiton and yank. It helps me stay upright. Nothing happens! Oh, no wait a moment, Jordan is beaming. I look down. I don't think he's wearing a loin cloth. Alexander is making a sort of grumbling nose, and Hephaistion's hand swoops down resettling something down there. Opps, forgot about Alex, I wouldn't want him to think I'm molesting his pretty boy Which of course, I am, or at least trying to. I pause and wonder for a moment, looking at Jordan and whispered quickly.

"Do you think he would trade Hephaistion for the gun? You'd like that wouldn't you"'

She stares at me for a moment as though I've lost my mind, and then her eyebrows raise provocatively and she studies her prey who has shifted his weight from one foot to the next.

"Do you think?" We smile at one another, she says something to Alexander, who pats the gun with a grin and glances up at Hephaistion. No! Really, would he really trade?

She turns and speaks to them and suddenly both Alexander and Hephaistion step back, Alexander's head nearly hits the ground, I can hear more earth chewing behind me; it's nice to be a goddess and I sigh inwardly. Safe for a moment, I think with relief. I feel around in my pockets for the rest of my "gifts"; the lighter, a now squished chocolate bar (thanks to Hephaistion) a small first aid kit with antiseptic ointment, among other things in it; and a flashlight, a ball point pen and a small bottle of rum.

I do have my cell phone, but that one will be useless. There's clearly no signal here. But, oh, I smile at myself for a moment and pull it out, flip it open and bend toward the worshipful form of Alexander. He looks up into the miniature screen, hops to his large dirty feet, his face beams, it's like the sun has suddenly enveloped the entire stable. If this were a small city we would suddenly have instant electricity. Damn, but I do love screen savers! Of course it doesn't hurt that I just happened to have a picture of his royal stinkiness as my screen saver. Clearly, he recognizes the image and is just enamored of himself. Then I press a button, hand it to Jordan as the screen saver changes, oh, yeah, baby! That did the trick. Hephaistion is making sounds of awe and surprise. He's grabbed the phone in his hand. Oh, yeah, these two, they're exactly alike. They love to look at themselves and each other.

I scan the hunched over forms of the bowing Macedonians and see Cassandra. She's dragging along a picnic basket in one hand. Oh, joy, I can't wait to see what goodies she's got in there. Maybe Jordan can explain to Alexander that she's Demeter of the Fields or on her way to a Dionysian festival because she's also got a wreath of flowers on her head and a joint stuck in between her lips. The sweet scent from the pot wafts toward us. Oh, yeah, this is gonna be fun. I look over at Jordan she is beaming from ear to ear, and why not, Hephaistion is kneeling at her feet.

To be continued….