REDISCOVERY by Moon 71

CHAPTER 8: The Festival Begins! Hephaestion goes shopping with a rather odd assortment of friends, while the Love Route makes some progress…

NOTES: Some of you love a devious Hephaestion, but I know others are finding him a bit unsympathetic - but you'll (hopefully!) see a gentler side of him in the next couple of chapters! As a little reference, Iris was the goddess of the rainbow; she acted as a messanger for the gods and left a multi-coloured trail as she travelled across the sky.


The day of the festival began well. The weather was fine and the mood of the army seemed high. Alexander gave a day's leave to as many as could be safely spared, offering small gifts of money to spend at the bazaar. When Hephaestion arrived to greet him he was surrounded by Companions, guests and servants all ready to join his retinue as he rode over to the principle town in state. "Hephaestion," Alexander had greeted him, clasping his hands and giving him a formal but tender kiss. His eyes were bright, his expression relaxed. Only the faint tremble in his hands, the slightest shadows under his eyes betrayed him. Anxiety struggled with pride as Hephaestion watched him, knowing the effort Alexander was making, and knowing he was making it not just for his men or his empire or even for Eudaemon, but for Hephaestion himself.

En route they were joined by Amyntas, satrap of Bactria. He must have regarded his appointment as a mixed blessing – on the one hand, it was a much bigger increase in rank than it would have been for Cleitos, and it demonstrated Alexander's faith in his abilities, but the shadow of the murdered commander hung darkly over the post. Like Eudaemon he seemed to be trying to make the best of it – his dress was the same mixture of Macedonian and Persian that Alexander favoured; his retinue another mixture of the same. Hephaestion even spotted a eunuch or two among them. He had always stuck Hephaestion as a rather unimaginative man, loyal, unsentimental, greedier for promotion and status than wealth – rather like Crateros, Hephaestion thought wryly, without the military brilliance. He would appease Persians, employ eunuchs and drink sherbet because Alexander wanted it, not because he particularly cared for it. But he would do a good job, so long as nothing too untoward happened.

When they reached Eudaemon's town, Alexander greeted the proud governor with a kiss on the lips and a warm embrace, then offered the same to Hephaestion's page Admetus who Eudaemon began praising as soon as he could find a chance. Hephaestion was surprised by the change in the boy since he had assigned him to Eudaemon; normally of a sardonic disposition with a rather mordant sense of humour, Admetus was beaming happily by the governor's side and accepted his King's embrace with considerable pleasure. Hephaestion usually gave these sorts of diplomatic assignments to the more amiable Nireus, or to Hylas if all was needed were a pretty face and an open, friendly nature. But perhaps it was time to think in fresh ways about his staff as well as himself. Alexander accepted Eudaemon's offer of a formal tour for himself and his entourage. Earlier he had already told Hephaestion not to bother coming with them, but to enjoy the bazaar and join him later at the Games; Hephaestion had been relieved on one level, but worried on another – Alexander evidently knew he was watching him and was not in the mood to tolerate it.

In the end, Hephaestion became the leader of the strangest group he had ever led. His pages naturally accompanied him and he had arranged to meet with Thais once the formalities were over, but he found himself joined by Leonatus and his current mistress Iris, a beautiful, voluptuous girl with light brown skin and flashing dark eyes whose silk dress was appropriately coloured like a rainbow. Leonatus himself was planning to compete in the wrestling but had also put forward his protégée, Hephaestion's page Iason.

Hephaestion watched the groups as they perused the stalls. Nireus had his beloved Helenus tucked in one arm – and little Hylas under the other. He doubted anything odd was going on there; the true friendship seemed to be between Hylas and Helenus. But then there was Iason, apparently lover of Admetus and beloved, on and off, of Leonatus, quite happily chatting to Iris. How they worked it all out was beyond Hephaestion. He concentrated on shopping, and on Thais.

Shopping for a woman was so much easier than shopping for Alexander – how could one find gifts for the man who had the world at his feet, yet seemed to enjoy giving things away more than receiving them? He knew she was taking advantage of his inexperience and his good mood – all she had to do was touch something and he would offer to buy it for her. He bought her incense, silk, spices and pottery; then selected more silk and gold jewellery to send home to his mother and sisters and a Persian history translated into Greek for his father. Amused by seeing the typical Macedonian chiton cut in decadent Persian silk, he bought one each for the pages with beautifully plaited filets to match and boxes of pastries drenched in rose and orange flower water. He even bought a richly illustrated volume on Persian wrestling techniques for Leonatus and a necklace of multi-coloured gems for Iris.

Hephaestion's attention was caught by a stall decked with black gems cut in all sorts of shapes and fashioned into all sorts of jewellery. He turned questioningly to the guide he had brought with him, who spoke to the stall keeper. "Obsidian, my lord," the guide translated, "created in the forge of the fire-god."

"A gift from Hephaestus," Thais murmured at his shoulder, "how appropriate."

Hephaestion did not answer. He picked up a beautiful gold armlet set with the curious gleaming black gems and studied it, suddenly feeling a shadow settling over him. "A fine gift," he heard Thais continue, "for a dear friend…"

He turned to look at her, seeing sympathy in her expression mixed with just a little regret. He wanted to say something to her, to try to explain, but then he dismissed the urge. He had been listening to her too much – surely no woman could truly appreciate the love two men could share? But then he looked deeper into her eyes, so dark they were nearly as black as the obsidian itself, and wondered. As she moved away to talk to Iris and admire the necklace Hephaestion had bought her, he purchased the armlet and something else as well.

So distracted was he with his purchases that he did not notice the strategic manoeuvre being operated around him until he was well and truly caught. Iason had loudly declared a craving for sherbet, that Persian mix of fruit juice chilled with snow, and the other boys had eagerly followed him to buy some. Hephaestion had noticed them drinking more and more of it, even trying to make it themselves – the younger ones even seemed to prefer it to wine! He had also noticed their increasing preference for local milk puddings flavoured with rose water and spices. Now as he watched them head across the market, he heard them calling to each other not in Macedonian or Greek but actually in Persian, apparently testing one another. He thought suddenly of the men and women left behind in the towns – in a generation or two, would they even remember their Macedonian heritage? Perhaps Alexander was worrying unnecessarily about integrating his conquered peoples – perhaps they would do it for him.

Then Iris suddenly squealed in delight, throwing out her plump dusky arms and exclaiming to Thais that she simply must help her chose a pair of those adorable Persian slippers. And suddenly Hephaestion was alone with Leonatus.

He looked patiently down into the other man's pale blue eyes, waiting for him to speak. Leonatus said nothing direct to him about Alexander all morning; he was a straightforward if quick tempered young man, fond of the luxuries and privileges their conquests brought and very conscious of his rank as a blood relation to Alexander, with a typically large Macedonian ego, but he was never particularly jealous or malicious when it came to Hephaestion and over the years they had learned to like and trust one another. As Alexander had gradually but determinedly replaced the old somatophylax – his Bodyguard, closer to him than any other group in the army – with his carefully picked friends, a bond had grown amongst the seven of them. This meant they cared for one another – but it also gave them freedom to speak their minds.

Once in a while Hephaestion had caught Leonatus watching him, however – watching Thais too. Apparently it was now time for the questions.

In fairness, Leonatus didn't seem to relish the task; he ran a hand uncomfortably through his sandy hair as he finally spoke. "I'm not as good at pissing about with words as you are Hephaestion," he said with his usual bluntness, "so I'll just get down to it. You and Alexander – are you still at it?"

"At what, Leonatus?" Hephaestion asked softly, not quite ready to make it easy for him.

"You know what I mean, son of Amyntor," Leonatus growled, faint colour creeping into his round cheeks. For a moment the family resemblance between him and Alexander became quite clear. "Are you still going to his bed?"

"Is that any of your business?"

"It's my business when it concerns Alexander, and you know it. Come on, Hephaestion," he added with a weary sigh, "all at once you've taken up with a woman – and not just any woman! Thais, by all the gods! You know ordinarily I wouldn't care if you were going to bed with Bucephalus…"

"How liberal of you."

"…but any fool can see Alexander…" Leonatus cleared his throat and leaned closer. "He's not right, Hephaestion. Is he? All that crap they told him after Cleitos – he didn't believe it, did he?"

Hephaestion sighed in surrender. "No, I don't think he did. Nothing has altered between Alexander and me, Leonatus," he added, "I love him – and want him – as much as I did back in Mieza."

"Then why aren't you helping him? Are you going to leave it all to that Barbarian wife of his? What can she do? By Zeus, Hephaestion, we both know where Alexander's preferences really lie – help him!"

"I'm trying to," Hephaestion insisted in a sharp whisper, "I swear by Athene, I'm trying my best! But he needs time!" He caught hold of Leonatus arm, looked deep into his eyes. "I know it doesn't sound right… believe me, it goes against everything I've been trained to understand, but we have to wait. We have to wait."

Leonatus breathed out heavily and nodded. For a moment Hephaestion wished the interrogation would continue, so that he could share the burden with someone else who knew Alexander. But this was not the time and Leonatus was not the one. He offered his hand to his companion and after a moment's hesitation the other man squeezed it in a crushing grip.


"I don't know about this, Bagoas," Ara sighed as the two of them wandered through the crowded bazaar, "I don't know about any of this…"

The younger eunuch smiled up at his companion, reaching discreetly to press his hand. "Come, Ara, please relax," he coaxed, "see how many people are here today, how full the bazaar is – we're just two eunuchs, of no interest to anybody, doing some shopping and wasting time! Don't you want to be with me?" he added with a well practiced flutter of his long lashes.

Ara laughed. "Nothing gives me greater pleasure, my love…"

"Then help me choose some new perfume and the best shade of silk for my complexion… now that my status has improved, I must look even better for my King, don't you agree?"

"You look perfect to me this very moment." Ara liked the way Bagoas blushed, but he could not help the frown which returned to his face moments later as they sampled the various perfumes on one of the biggest stalls. "Why should we do anything for him Bagoas? It's his problem, not ours! Why should we bring trouble upon ourselves?"

"What do you think of this one…?" Bagoas proffered his wrist to his friend, ignoring the stallholder's insistence the fragrance was worth its weight in gold, an instant aphrodisiac.

Ara sniffed and shrugged. "Common," he said in Court Persian, smiling sweetly at the stallholder as he did so. "Unworthy of you. But Bagoas…"

"I told you what happened – how he saw us kissing," Bagoas whispered in the same language, "he could have told Alexander about it, but he didn't."

"For his own reasons, no doubt."

"Even so…" They wandered away from the stall to where large bales of beautifully dyed silk lay stacked, guarded by another hopeful merchant. "It is down to your master, isn't it?"

Ara scowled, asking the merchant to spread out a length of silk with a pattern of undulating blue and turquoise waves, holding it up against Bagoas' olive skin. "It wasn't his idea… the first time, the woman acted alone. She's clever and fond of luxuries and quick to see an opportunity; my master found out what she was doing and made use of her. My master doesn't want to get rid of him, Bagoas… only to shake him loose of the king. He's heard the stories of the Greeks and their pederasty; he's only afraid there'll be no children, that the king will grow bored with her and the alliance will soon lose its importance…"

Bagoas scoffed delicately. "He might as well try to shake the stars from the heavens! The King clings to that one like he's the source of life itself! Don't you think others have tried? Even his mother! Well she is still in Macedon, and that one is still by the king's side. She learned and so will your master. He doesn't want to make an enemy there, Ara, trust me – if he decides your master is making trouble for him, no-one is in a better position to wreck this marriage alliance than he is – and none of us want that."

"But the king is listening to our woman," Ara protested, "he doesn't send her away!"

"Don't trust in that. Don't let your master trust in that. His spirits are low at the moment but he'll turn on her before you know it. This sort of double-dealing doesn't come naturally to him. Your master would be better employed making a friend of that one – the Persians like him because he respects their ways, and if anything happens too the king… he's the one they'd back, and he's the one who would give them their best chance." He looked down at the silks, then pointed to one in a rich dark green shot with gold thread. "That would suit you, Ara… it would bring out the gold in your eyes."

Ara held it up to the light, studying it for a long time. "Very well, Bagoas, you win me over, as you always could… I will point her out to you, but be careful. She's not all she seems. She was once in the royal harem – before your time – and managed to get herself exiled out here for… ah… selling her favours. After that she worked the Greek mercenary camps. She's nothing if not tenacious! Only since the fall of Darius has she crawled out from under her rock…" He smiled grimly. "I can counsel my master but I can't control the woman – and possibly neither can he, if the king still wants to hear what she says. She's too fond of money to give up easily and she wouldn't hesitate to turn on you again if she thinks you're against her – or me, for that matter. Tell that one to be wary too."

"That one will take care of her," Bagoas assured him solemnly.

"And Bagoas…" Ara turned to him then, unashamedly clasping his hands. "Don't let him involve you in this any further. If anything should happen to you..." Then his expression softened and his eyes brightened. "Come, let's share some sharbat and talk of old times. Believe it or not, my master might not approve of that one but he approves of you; he has even told me to… ah…" Ara couldn't help laughing; he had struggled not to laugh when Oxyartes had made the suggestion. "To make friends with you so you can pass me information on the king…"

"Now I am truly confused," Bagoas sighed. "Very soon we will all be spying on each other!"

"Yes, isn't it wonderful?" Ara cried happily, "it's just like in the days of the Great King!"

Bagoas stifled a giggle behind his hand. "In any event it will be good to have an excuse to see you; if the king asks, I can always tell him I'm using you to spy on your master…" Taking Ara's arm as they headed to one of the tents selling refreshments, he seemed to be considering something at length. Finally he spoke once more. "Ara… tell your master the best way for his daughter to keep her husband's attention is to learn to talk to him. Tell her to concentrate on her Greek and try to… to be his friend. The closest a woman can get to him is to become his friend."

"Friend?" Ara cried, "a woman? That doesn't sound very Greek, my love!"

Bagoas shrugged. "The only other woman who has managed to keep his attention was the lady Barsine, and it seemed to me it was because he had known her in Macedon and she understood his ways. She could speak Greek and was able to be a friend to him, to listen to him talk. He likes – no, he loves to talk. More than he loves to make love!"

"What a strange creature he is," Ara mused. "What time is he expecting you back?"

"He has excused me from my usual duties from now on… I do not have to organize his retinue or see to his dress – that one has it close in hand today," Bagoas admitted with a lopsided boy's smile, one he never used at Court and quite certainly never showed Alexander. It filled Ara's heart with warmth and made him long to be alone with him. "But he has invited me to sit with his party during the games and the play… I will be needed to translate for the Persian guests. Of course, that is not for a few hours yet…" They stopped and looked at one another.

"Come," Ara said softly, "I know somewhere we can go where there are sweeter treats to be shared than sharbat…"

TBC