Chapter 10 – Death of Cleitus - Dionysus' Fury:
Earlier before Alexander's Return to Camp
The old general sits back on a small stool before his tent watching the servants stack up the pile of wood before the Alter in preparation for his sacrifice. He looks out aimlessly towards the open region and the life of the camp as he takes in another cup full of wine. Having declined offers from his men for an afternoon drink, Cleitus sits alone and isolated; yet focused on providing a proper offer to Dionysus, as customary for the time of the year. Though the King had planned for a grandeur affair later in the evening, Cleitus had hoped a personal sacrifice would grant him better days.
Most recently the old general had been pondering over his position in "Alexander's new army". Since Philotas and Parmenion's deaths, Cleitus had been unable to clearly find a firm footing as a commander in Alexander's army. The past few years since the assassination of his colleague and friend, Parmenion, Cleitus had been growing ill at ease and apprehensive of his relationship with Alexander and his place in his King's new world. To add insult to injury, he was silently and shamefully growing to distrust the one person who had always maintained a level-headedness and humility towards the older general, Hephaestion. Following Philotas' death, Hephaestion and the old general have been working closely in sharing the command of the royal companion cavalry. After Philotas' betrayal, the King refused to have the royal companions in the charge of one person. Though Hephaestion could have taken on his new found authority self-servingly and arrogantly, he handled himself to the contrary. Never during there joint command over the elite forces had Hephaestion countered or held contempt towards Cleitus' experience or judgment in managing the men. Rather, the two commanders had proven able to work well together and through their collaborative efforts had been successful in each mission or operation they undertook. However, most recently, Cleitus has been unable to stifle his growing antipathy and bitterness towards the fast forwarding changes occurring in the campaign. This deep seeded resentment was creating doubt for the old guard against everyone close to the King, including his last remaining ally, Hephaestion. The older general's worries were further heightened by the lingering rumors burning through the camp; the King was set on sending Cleitus to Bactria, as the new satrap. Discerning fewer allies to support his position in the army, commingled with his ever-growing anxiety and mistrust, the latest gossips were more than he could bear on his confidence. Cleitus was coming to grips perhaps that he no longer held a future along side the King's guard.
As a consequence of his insecurity, Cleitus has begun to openly display his hostility and enmity against Alexander's open acceptation of the "more barbaric style" of living. As a result of his vocalized opposition, many men from the "old guard" had come to speak up against the King's plans for further integration. The end result of this open revulsion had created a segregation of the old guard from Alexander's close companions and the new recruits of the King's conquered world.
However, with Hephaestion's recent return, the old general had become more optimistic. He held hope with the younger general's return; Cleitus may be able to find some support needed to reaffirm his position with the army and the King. The sound of riders rushing into the camp momentarily distracts the general from his concerns. He watches amusingly as the King and General cheerfully ride their horses up to the large pavilion.
Having taken down the last of his cup of wine, Cleitus is approached by his servant to commence the sacrifice of the three sheep to Dionysus, the God of wine, the instigator of ritual madness and ecstasy. As the general steps up to the Alter, the King's page rushes up to him announcing that Alexander wishes for his presence at the King's tent as soon as possible. Cleitus pauses on his decision on whether he should provoke the God's wrath or his King. Looking at the sacrifice and at the young page awaiting to lead him to the pavilion, Cleitus sets down his dagger and reluctantly follows the young man.
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Back at the King's Tent
"Cleitus my good man, I had requested for your presence at this brief meeting, but I did not expect you to also provide a live meal" teases Alexander, "Who are your little friends?" reaching out to pet the animals.
"I was preparing to sacrifice to Dionysus when… these are my offerings…" hastily replies the old general. "But I was called here before I could complete my sacrifice."
Instantly the King withdraws his hand from the sheep as if it was possessed by Hades itself. With a grave look, Alexander calls forward his page to quickly locate his seers, Aristander and Clemantis and to inquire as to the consequences of Cleitus' failed sacrifice.
Anxious to hear upon the King's decision, Eumenes draws Alexander's attention back to the pending questions.
"Ah yes" replies Alexander gathering himself back to the task at hand, "I have called you all here because I wanted you to be the first to hear of my decision as to Artabazus' replacement. After a long deliberation and a careful review of the requirement of the position, I have determined Cleitus to be the most qualified person for the position of Satrap of Bactria. I will have him along with the Greek mercenaries from Darius army sent out as soon as possible. They will be responsible for maintaining and stabilizing this region while we move on towards India."
Before the old general is able to respond, the King along with all the men in the tent stand to applaud the "promotion" bestowed upon the former guard of King Philip. Alexander steps to embrace Cleitus fully realizing the promotion had been his perfect opportunity to both "gift" his fine general for honor and valor; but also to finally set him apart from his army. It had become common knowledge among his men, especially with his closest companions that the older General was increasingly becoming unhappy with the King's "new army". He was clearly the forefront leader of the growing enmity swelling among the army. The older general's open resentment towards the King's integration of the army, his recent wedding engagement and also with his "Persian" attire was wedging the army into two separate groups.
"Oh Cleitus, do not fret about your sacrifice to Dionysus, I have sent word to Aristander to personally prepare a proper devotion to the God for your safety as soon as possible." calls out the King, "You will soon enough grow to appreciate your new position as satrap of Bactria."
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Walking out of the King's tent, Hephaestion feels a firm grip around his forearm. He turns sharply to find Cleitus tugging at him. "Hephaestion may I talk with you?" inquires the older general. "This may be the only chance we will have before the festivities."
With only a nod, Hephaestion steps in line with the Cleitus as they walk towards the distant main tents. Having shared the responsibility of the royal companions, Hephaestion had only deep respect and admiration towards the old guard. Through their joint efforts, the young general had gained vital knowledge and experience in tactical battle skills and strategizing. He was forever grateful to Cleitus, for his constant patience and guidance in homing in the young warrior's command over the elite cavalry. Further, since his youth, Hephaestion had always held a special place for Cleitus for his continuous allegiance and support towards his relationship with Alexander. On more than one occasion during his time in Mieza, the older general had interceded on his behalf, before King Philip and the then young Prince. It was Cleitus, who suffered the ramification of his groveling pleas to fight along side Alexander at Chaeronea. His release of Hephaestion from his squadron had earned the older general several slashes by King Philip. Cleitus had been punished for disobeying the King's direct order of keeping the two young men apart.
"Did you know of the King's decision before this meeting?" questions Cleitus, "Do you know of his reason for casting me aside now before we leave for India?"
"He only seeks to reward you Cleitus" softly counters Hephaeastion, his words barely concealing the true meanings behind them, "You know the King to be generous towards those who are loyal. You will be a rich man in Bactria, a man with vast powers at your fingertips".
"I hardly see this as a generous retirement plan." Spats Cleitus, unwilling to accept the explanation, "If I am no longer needed, I would much rather be sent back to Macedonia."
"You know more than the others that the King has the final say regarding the organization and structure of his commanders and the army." quickly replies Hephaestion, "I do admit I had foreknowledge of his decision to assign you to Bactria; but I assure I had no part in his decision. Truth be told, I only found out of Alexander's decision shortly before this meeting today." The young general reaches out to grasp his friend's arm as if to convey his sympathy, "I am sure Alexander held only the best intentions for your promotion into this position."
"Promotion! I hardly see directing a group of rejected Greeks and barbarians as an elevation in rank." Counters Cleitus, "He has given me no opportunity to contest or counter this so-called generous offer." Slightly moving away from Hephasetion's hold, "Did you know, that our King has ordered me to move the men out by early morrow?" Lost for words, they move on silently as they reach the sacrificial site.
Cleitus stops in his pace to turn to his co-commander, he places both hands on the young general's shoulders and leans into his right ear, "Be careful Hephaestion, one day you will find yourself falling from your pedestal and hitting the ground hard. Be weary of a King's favor as it can be sharp and painful. But… then again you have lived through this King's ….. love far longer than I had expected." Moving back to cup his hand on the young general's face, "I have always found you to be too good for Alexander. Perhaps I do regret missing my opportunity with you. But I will always appreciate your friendship and will settle on this to guide me through my new position in Bactria."
"Cleitus, I will always remain your friend!" whispers Hephaestion, making no effort to withdraw from the older general's hold, "Take care of your self!"
"You are a good man Hephaestion" states Cleitus as he leans in to kiss both cheeks of the young general, "Never lose sight of who you are and be strong. I fear that you will lose yourself to our Great King's madness, to his daemon one day."
At that moment, Alexander steps out of the tent with Leonnatus and Perdiccas good-humored and eager for the upcoming meeting and banquet. As he looks up, he immediately stares fiercely towards Cleitus' hands cupping Hephaestion's cheek. Instantly the youthful jealously he had once held towards the older man's relationship with his lover surfaces to infuriate the King. Though the King saw Cleitus as a strong and ferocious warrior of his army; to Alexander the man, he held personal bitterness and suspicions which festered in him like an ant hill. Alexander's rage towards the old general was based upon his longstanding belief that Cleitus had been the cause for the violent and sadistic outcome of his first coupling with his lover.
While boys of Pella, Hephaestion had been under the charge of Cleitus' command. His lover's close working relationship with the old general had been a necessity and requirement for their military training in the army. Alexander and Hephaestion's relationship during their early days in Pella had been at a level consistent with their young ages. They had both become curious to their bodies and to the new found love towards each other. However, it had been Hephaestion who held back from engaging in any level of intimacy, other than the norms of tender touches and passionate kissing. For weeks, leading up to the brutal transgression in the gardens back in Pella, Hephaestion had been obstinate in rejecting the Prince's pleas for a more "intimate relationship". Hephaestion had wanted to wait until the right moment. But as it would always be the case, outside factors would intervene and for the then young prince it had been his father's refusal to grant him regency during the King's absence. Shortly after being cast off by his father, Alexander had sought out his friend and found him in the gardens. As they lay intertwined, Alexander's bruised ego had been further fueled by Hephaestion's refusal to consummate their relationship. Enraged by his misery, Alexander roughly embraced his comrade demanding an explanation for his continued denial in wanting to love him. It was not until Hephaestion had implicated a previous affair with Cleitus did Alexander come to his breaking point. Losing his mind to the images of Cleitus with his friend, he sought nothing but to stake his claim upon Hephaestion. His friend had been meant for Alexander only and he had no intention of sharing him with another. Though, later and throughout the years, Hephaestion emphatically denied any previous relationship with the older general. However, Alexander remained unconvinced and as a lover, he maintained his derision and watched Cleitus closely. His decision to have Cleitus share the command of the royal cavalry with Hephaestion did not sit well with the King; but he would trust no other person in his army with such an important task than his closest companion. Nevertheless Cleitus and his lover proved to be a formidable team and with their continued success, Alexander would come to accept the working relationship.
Now as he watches his lover held in the arms of the older general, Alexander is unable to set aside his hostility as he stares at the two men standing before him. Perdiccas quickly notices the change in Alexander's expression and realizes the source of his resentment. "Alexander, come away from this. The old man is leaving tomorrow and you will have no further worries for his influence or position in your army," states the young commander, "Trust Hephaestion. He has returned for you only … and no other."
"Yes!" chimes in Leonnatus, "Do not let Cleitus ruin your celebration!"
Hanging to the words of his comrades, Alexander realizes the rational in their statements. He again smiles in agreement and allows himself to be lead away to the sacrificial alter.
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The sacrifice to the twins has been a grand and elaborate affair. The King himself stood dressed in his find Persians Robes looking ever so regal and distinguished. There was denial to those around where Alexander perceived his place with the gods.
"He looks as if he is one of them" whispers Neandro to Cleitus, "Does he not recall how his own father was taken down by the Gods when he erected his own image along side the twelve."
"Keep you voice down Neandro!" warns Cleitus, "There are many here who believe our King to be the son of Zeus-Ammen and would seize any opportunity to gain his favor." turning to his young commander, "Even if it meant your own life. Be careful lad!"
With the sacrifice concluded, the commanders and King are led to the banquet area where the evening progresses in true Macedonian fashion.
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Alexander takes in another full bowl of wine to recognize yet another flattering toast to his past heroic deeds. The affect of the wine filled evening was beginning to take its grip on the King. Alexander delighted in the waves of euphoria and happiness consuming him. Having his lover back at this side, he finds himself able to finally relax and rejoice in the festivity. As he looks out into the room to his men interacting and celebrating merrily rejoices the King as he finds comfort to the display of unification among his comrades. It had been some time since his all commanders have engaged in any shared activity outside of a battle. It brought great joy to the King to see his new and old brothers so at ease and free of the strains and anxiety of the campaign in Sogdia.
Taking another cup, Alexander feels a warm hand set itself upon his knee gripping it as it moves slowly up his thigh. Without the slightest movement or inclination, he welcomes the open display of affection. The King turns with laughter in his eyes as he looks at Hephaestion sitting next to him. With a wide grin, his lover tilts over cautiously into the nape of his neck.
"You are quickly filling yourself well into your cups sire." whispers Hephaestion, "I was hoping we would take our leave without notice to make our own offers to the Gods."
Alexander is unable to contain his enjoyment in Hephaestion's surprising assertiveness. Overjoyed he responds to the request by pulling his lover to him, embracing Hephaestion to hungrily ravish his lips. The act reaffirms to all presence who in fact held his heart. "You and I will have the whole evening and the days that follow, my love", laughs Alexander in utter amusement to his lover's face turning various shades of red. In a low voice, he slants forward, "I humbly take your offer for a sacrifice Phai, as I would hope you will accept to take mine." The room roars even loader with amusement to the open display of affection between the King and the General. Alexander now taken in further to the heightened merriment and the lively affair calls over the servant for more wine. The King suddenly moves up as he raises his bowl to the crowd, "To Hephaestion! For his success with the local tribes!" He then turns to bow face down to his lover, and with a soft look, "And to the Gods I thank for his love and safe return to me." The room comes alive with further applause and perverted remarks packs the room with more laughter and wine filled bowls.
Hephaestion's expression goes dull as he moves back from his lover's embrace. His attempts to ease Alexander's alcohol intake had proven futile. The young general had taken notice of the early warning signs of Alexander's erratic demeanor. The King was becoming more bold and self confident in his boasting ego and self pride. To Hephaestion's disappointment, Alexander was enthralling in the sycophants of the room, accepting their enhancement of his position with the Gods and with the army. Hephaestion knew well enough, the King could be quite volatile and irrational when his ego was being pretentiously stroked; add to the mix large a amount of undiluted wine, Alexander's temper could be dangerous. Realizing his lover's shift into complete intoxication, Hephastion scans the room as if to gauge the reaction of those present. Inauspiciously, he takes notice of the small fraction of men in the room. He observes upon the expressions of the older commanders comprising this group, their obvious repulsion and distain towards the King's "supernatural being" behavior. Hephaestion was not naïve to their sentiments of abandonment and rejection by their King. They believed themselves to be displaced and set aside for the favor and support of the new recruits of the new empire. Hephaestion's concern grows heavy as he takes in the sight of the man sitting in the forefront looking the most agitated and unpleased; his old friend Cleitus. The old general was making no attempts to conceal his sulking appearance as he sat back into his couch not amused with the King's eccentric performance.
As the night progresses, the cups of the men overflow ensuing heavier drinking among them. This wide spread inebriation among the men creates some to step forward bold with their imagination and acclamations. Several of the men begin to call out comparisons of Alexander's deeds to those of the twin gods, Discouri. They were looking to tap into Alexander's love of Homer. It was well known among the Greeks, in The Odyssey, the famous poet had described the pair as "having honor equal to gods". The Discouri twins were two brothers, Castor and Pollux, one fathered by a mortal and the other by Zeus. When Pollux was offered a choice by his father, Zeus, for a place in Mt Olympus or half of his immortality to his brother; Pollux chose to save his dying brother. This choice allotted the twins the power to transcend their lives as both gods in Olympus and deceased mortals in Hades. As gods, the twins were worshipped by the Greeks as divine heroes of the battlefield and the protector of the army. With Alexander's earlier sacrifice, he sought to confirm his alignment with the gods as possessing both eternal and human characteristics. He was both the son of a god and a mortal man. Alexander was a human combination of the Twins. The men of the room were encouraging this perception by depicting Alexander as a god for his profound strength and courage off and on the battlefield, as both a commander and King. Through the boistering of the young companions in the room, Alexander was unable to contain priding himself to be worth of the comparsion.
Though Hephaestion never openly disagreed or really doubted Alexander's ancestral linkage to the Gods, he could not help contain his dreadfulness as he listened to the young men of the army robustly boost Alexander's "god like" status. A few had gone as far as to suggest that "only envy that could only deprive the living of the honors due to them from their friends."
Cleitus scowls at the preposterous declaration of Alexander's past achievements and divine status. He did not see his King as a god, but rather the same little ill-tempered youngster of Pella. He nods in disagreement to the words of the unfounded praises flying in the room. The older general takes another cup of wine to numb his senses and hopefully his ears as he tries to block the ludicrous acclamations being made. Cleitus wholeheartedly believed Alexander's deed were nothing more than mere exaggeration – simple tales larger than the Gods themselves. Unable to refrain himself any longer, Cleitus steps off his couch. He sways momentarily but quickly finds his balance.
"Nay!" calls out Cleitus capturing the immediate attention of most in the room. The laughter and talking dies down, with only the lingering conversation of astonishment and shock towards the old general's reproach.
In a calm and somber voice, Cleitus walks up in the direction of the King, "Such erroneous exaggerations these sycophants make to the King!" bellows out Cleitus, "These great deeds of Alexander.. these victories at Gaugamela, Issus or even over Darius were NOT the personal achievements of our great King." He turns to look at the others in the room and raises his arm to swing it through the air, "Nay, these great deeds of our King comes from the blood and sweat of the Macedonian army as a whole."
Hephaestion watches as Alexander's daemon begins to cleave to the King's emotional rage transforming him into a vicious lion ready to prance on his kill. Alexander's eyes goes dark as he flinches to each word blurting out of the old general. The King takes all his will to sit quietly containing his need to viciously react. His hands were clasped tightly around his knees as he sat up straight following the older general walking about the room ranting openly of his disagreement and disgust with the King. Alexander feels Hephaestion's hand cup his shoulder to try to ease his tension; but Alexander roughly pulls away. He was not about to allow his ego and pride to be insulted and made into a mockery by anyone.
"Do you mean to imply that without Alexander this army would be able to gain such victories against such enormous odds?" calls out Leonnatus, "Was it not Alexander leading us into every battle? I tell you, it was because of our King's brilliant commanding skills and military genius that we were able to be the victors against Darius' vast armies." The King's royal companion takes to his feet trying to control his spinning head, "By the will of the Gods themselves, Alexander has shown his tenacity and undisputed battle skills time and time again." He lifts his cup towards the old general, "Old gizzard have you no memory of all the battles fought where we stood outnumbered and outflanked? We have fought many enemies here, upon their own land and because of Alexander leading this army we are able to stand here undefeated against them all!"
Hephaestion looks across the couches to Ptolemy and Perdiccas, his trusted allies, pleading them to gain control of their drunken companions. The open dispute between the young companions against the older general was only provoking the aggression and tension growing thick in the room.
Unaffected by the passionate words of his fellow commander, the older general stumbles forward to point to Leonnatus, and the other young companions, "Have you forgotten whose arm saved our Great King at Grancius?" counters Cleitus confidently, "Spirthridates' sword would have killed your immortal King without my intervention!"
"Perhaps the Gods placed you in harms way to save our King," steps up Seleucus from his couch, pushing away Perdiccas' hold of his forearm, to stand next to his comrade, "Alexander saved many of our brothers that day, far more than you! Do you not recall our King being forced away from his chase of Darius to save the ass of your comrade, Parmenion?"
"Parmenion was a great general who had fought along side King Phillip long before you took your first breath as a babe!" exclaims Cleitus, "This army is the backbone of Philip's vision and strength. Philip built us up from broken tribes into a unified country." Clietus steps back to look over at his old guard, and waves his hand across the room once again, "Never had Philip saw us inferior but as equals my Macedonian brothers!"
"And what great achievements did Philip accomplish in his lifetime?" chimes in Leonnatus, "It was his son, Alexander, who won his great victory at Chareonea!"
Now feeling his emotions taking hold of his mind, Cleitus steps up towards Leonnatus and Seleucus with his finger point at them, "Neither one of you would find yourself here without a great army, an army that was first created by a true Macedonian King, Philip.
"I have taken s further than my father had ever dreamed up!" yells out the King, sitting up at the edge of his couch, unable to serve back his patience, "Had it been up to my father, we would have never seen beyond the Greek Coastal cities," Again, Alexander shoves Hephaestion's attempts to sooth his growing rage.
Stepping off his couch, Alexander comes forward to face the older general, "Hold your tongue old man!" calls out the King, "Do you dare to call me lesser of a King?" The men of this army, my brothers, have gained more glory and riches than my father had ever given them! I have taken us farther than my father's diminutive imaginings. I have taken my brothers to a new world vast and endless."
Unwilling to heed to the whispers of his fellow men begging for the old general to step aside, "How far do you think you would have gone without this army behind you?" chides Cleitus sarcastically, "This army was already a well experienced and greatly commanded army when you took hold of it as a boy!"
Hephaestion again reaches out to Alexander watching his lover's daemon take hold. The general's lover, the man of reason and empathy no longer stood before him; rather he was being replaced by a beast held by a malevolent spirit prepared to react and be guided by his pure emotion and arrogance. Again, Alexander rebuffs his lover's reach, almost snarling at the gesture. But Hephaestion is insistent, unwilling in his efforts to be dissuaded, he again tries to lure his lover back to rationality. The young general leans over, "He is but an old man with settled ways!" confidently whispering to his lover, "He will be gone before sunrise tomorrow Alexander. Let this rest. Do not let the men see you disparage your commander."
Alexander turns to Hephaestion with a murky and dangerous look; "You dare to defend him when he openly insults me. Cleitus challenges my status as a worthy King and discounts my personal victories!" Alexander drinks down another cup has he falls back into his couch.
The dark storm of bitter hatred stews within Alexander as he looks out to the man who was the last remaining commander of his father's guards. Swollen with contempt and annoyance, Alexander follows the ranting and raving madcap before him unable to recognize the man who once stood by his side as a friend and confident. Cleitus had been a vital force in Alexander's personal and military life. The old guard was the first to proclaim his succession, support his initial campaign and fought feverishly to guard his side in many battles. Cleitus, as well as his intermediate family have been a facet of Alexander's life from birth until now. The old guard's very own sister served as his wet nurse while he was a babe. In Alexander's heart, he understood Hephaestion's counsel to be wise and true, that Cleitus was drunk and only venting his own distress in his new position as satrap. But as the King, he could not allow the old general to verbally antagonize and disgrace his position or his leadership. His own pride demanded he react and bring to an end the old general's outburst, no matter the cost. However his mind and heart would make him see who exactly stood before him, a drunken old friend. He found himself on the fence of heeding to either his self dignity or that of his friend. His thoughts are interrupted as he once again hears his lover turn to speak to him.
"Nay Alexander, the men know the truth of your achievement and of your great glories." States Hephaestion maintaining a level of assurance, "You are but a god among us mortals!"
Unfortunately, the young general's efforts backfire only further enraging Alexander. The King leans forward gripping tightly upon his lover's knee, with heavy wine on his breath and a look of fury in his eyes, "You too would mock me!" spits Alexander, "Perhaps you would see yourself happier living with your wishful lover. Was it not Cleitus in your heart when you decided to lay with me back in the gardens?"
Hephaestion is taken back with the old aged accusation, now feeling his own rage building up through him, "I will not let this be about our lives… our love Alexander. This is but a trifle argument between you and an old friend." He looks up to direct his eyes across at the old guards sitting huddled behind Cleitus, "I will not let your anger usurp us as you should not let it blind you against Cleitus. This is but a small war of words fueled by the tricks of the God of Wine. Let this pass Alexander!"
Alexander hisses and looks scornfully at the old general sitting a distance from him. He takes down another drink from his bowl, motioning for the servant to refill it. As he glares at Cleitus surrounded by the commanders of his father's old guard, feeling his emotions being pushed to the point of no return. Listening to Cleitus' insolence and fiery words were further infuriating Alexander, as he is reminded of his sister's wedding, of Attalus' insult and qualms over his legitimacy as a true heir of Macedonia. Alexander grips his bowl gulping it of its contents. He swears under his breath as to restore confidence to himself that he was no longer a boy who could be mishandled or be disrespected. He was the Great King, the rightful King of Macedonia, Pharaoh of Egypt and King of Persia! Alexander sits back on his couch to contain the rising emotions of hatred towards the old guard. With only sheer personal conviction and reservation, the King manages to momentarily dismiss Cleitus' outburst and accusations. Alexander takes all his strength to sit calmly back into his couch, yet ready to attack at a moments notice. He turns to Hephaestion with a stern glare as if to warn him not to interfere should this badgering not cease shortly.
Realizing a subtle calmness over his lover, Hephaestion throws an expressional plea to Ptolemy and Perdiccas to restrain their drunkard comrades. The companions' outspokenness was shaking the foundation of already unstable relationship between the new recruits and young companions of Alexander's new army against the old guards of King Philips.
Desperate to alter the direction of the evening, Hephaestion steps up; "Brothers!" calls out the young general surprising himself over his own initiation. Alexander looks up nonchalantly, but with an obvious annoyance lingering on his facial expression. But Hephaestion ignores the growling of his lover, and turns towards the men, searching out for one individual. "Eumenes!" exclaiming smartly, "Have you not prepared the entertainment tonight? Come let us call him forward to see what the old goat has managed to find to amuse us tonight!"
The crowd roars with lewd comments and energetic applause trying to encourage the secretary to come forward to address the audience. The old secretary was initially taken back by Hephaestion's announcement, but gradually realizes the true intention for calling him forward as he takes sight of the young general's despairing expression. A diversion was needed to calm the heated tension boiling over within the confines of the tent.
Without further delay, Eumenes proudly strides to the center of the room. He raises his bowl to the crowd then to his King, "My sire, Generals and honored guests! Let us put aside our squabbles and open ourselves to be joyfully entertained." He lifts a toast to the men before taking a mouthful, "I call forward Eliladio, a poet and singer from Athens. He will invoke upon your imagination", the general pauses looking at the group of young companions, "well to those who possess an imagination, but for most in the room, he will inspire you with his words and soothing voice."
The sudden sound of the music draws the room's attention. Walking to the center to replace the old secretary strides up a short and hefty man lost in his oversize ratted chiton and wearing a wreath covering his balding head. Eliladio was a poet and singer renown for his telling of stories significant to those glories of Alexander's achievement throughout the campaign. There were no denying Elialido's poems and songs were effective in sparking the imagination of his audience, specifically the King. Alexander had been fond of this poet, requesting his performance at most of his banquets. But Hephaestion had found Elilado's stories to be insensitive and more often hyper exaggeration that lacked vital and important details. The young general cringes and braces himself as the poet prepares for his song. The pompous poet would look to find a way to gain Alexander's favor, regardless of the cost.
Elialdio looks out prideful and arrogant at the audience; he clears his throat and begins in a loud hum.
The day is bright under the firing sun;
The river flows quiet and calm;
Macedonian men of the old guard are eager to cross, to rush in without a fight;
No sound can be heard, no threat in sight;
Alas, beyond the banks, lurks a fray;
The enemy awaits to attack its pray;
Macedonian men of the old guard have no zeal;
Yey, they are ambushed, are made an easy kill;
Macedonian men of the old guard run confused and in dismay;
They are unable to decide among themselves to whom should lead the way;
Without their King the old guards are cowardly lost;
Without their King, their lives are taken without a cost…..
The image of the old guard scrabbling through the battlefield with their tails between their legs leads the room to come alive with callous taunting and mockery. The room reverberates with laughter as several of the men yell out for an encore performance.
Watching the hilarity of the room causes Cleitus' temper to burn through his vein. The men spoken by the poet had been led by his brother-in-law, Andronicus, the husband of his sister Lanike. He raises his cup and hurls it at Elialido, fueled by rage; he is barely restrained from lounging at the poet by a group of his men. As he is held back by men at each side, Cleitus swears towards the poet, "You dare call these men of Macedonia cowards!" bellowing through the laughter rising above the room "You have no knowledge of the nature and circumstance of this skirmish!" He leaps out once more but is held tightly by Neondro, "You are a foolish man to raise such unfounded accusations of these courageous men before their brothers in this room… before their comrades!"
"Come Cleitus!" laughs forward Nearchus, "It just an exaggeration, a comedy of sort of the battle at the Polytimetus River. It is all in good humor!"
"Alas, had Andronicus sent forward word to the others across the river, the old guard would not have been ambushed!" calls out Leonnatus, almost laughing in his words, "A new recruit would have known well enough to not enter a fast moving river in the heart of the enemy's territory."
"True!" chimes in Coenus, "Alexander had entrusted these commanders to lead the men. The outcome of the battle only shows that old ways of Philip's army has no place in Alexander' new world.. new army!"
"You idiotic imbeciles!" steps up Neondro, "You would disrespect the very men who have fought in more battles than all of you combined!" The old guard of Philip's army, points to the young companions, "Have you forgotten it was Andronicus who taught many of you how to hold a sword, when you but a scraggier runt running naked in Pella!"
"I have not been a boy in many seasons old man!" counters Coenus, "And bear in mind, I have fought in greater battles than those led by Philip and have been granted far more riches from Alexander's victories!"
"Ah yes, our King have always seen himself in line with the Gods!" snides Cleitus, staring intently at Alexander sitting anxiously in his couch, "Is it now Zeus or Amman who is your father? Well Great King, as I see you now in your "Barbarian ways", you are no legitimate King of Macedonia. You have become more Asian than Macedonian." Cleitus takes a full swig of his cup and widely swings his arm across the room, "All that you have accomplished in this campaign is through the old guard and from the original plan of King Philip. The success of this campaign is Macedonia's achievement, not Alexander's!"
"Enough!!" bursts out Alexander, over his fading laughter, "You push me too far old man! My patience wanes thin with your obvious disregard and disrespect for my position as King and Commander of this army!" Quickly the King steps off his couch to make a move towards Cleitus. Hephaestion grabs hold of him firmly calling out to Ptolemy and Perdiccas.
Hephaestion struggling to contain his lover commands his comrades and to the guards pointing at Cleitus, "Get him out of here!" The room rolls with a mixture of laughter and fury as the old guard is dragged out.
"Remove your hands off me!" barks Alexander, feeling his head ache from the throbbing influence of the alcohol, "I will not be made a fool by my commanders or by you!" shoving Hephaestion away from him as he staggers forward.
"Alexander restrain yourself!" sternly whispers Hephaestion, "All are watching you! You must be an example to your men. Cleitus is but an old man who is too filled in his cup!"
"You just cannot contain how much you feel for him can you General Amyntor!" snides Alexander, trying to steady himself as he leans forward for another bowl of wine, "Even now you will defend him over ME!" Unable to charge against the true culprit of his aggravation and unrestrained anger, he takes aim at the one person who knew his internal strife. Upon hearing his lover come in the defense of Cleitus' deplorable behavior renews his juvenile jealousy and insecurities. Alexander was unable to perceive beyond his own feelings of hostility, was unable to hear the truth behind Hephaestion's words; rather he remained in a state of disparity between his daemon and his self control.
Hephaestion grabs hold of Alexander's wrist, slightly but forcefully pulling him back forcing his lover to drop his wine cup, "You intend to demean what we have gained as of late, on a matter long ago settled! Cleitus means nothing to me! I am but thinking of YOUR BEST INTEREST Alexander!!"
The doors burst open with Cleitus staggering through cursing against his friends and fellow companions trying to pulling him outside.
"Ah Cleitus, you have returned to face the truth." madly laughs Alexander, "Perhaps it would be best for you to remain outside. If you are trying to disguise cowardice as misfortune you are only pleading your own case!"
Cleitus makes a futile attempt to move swiftly towards the King as if trying to attack him. But he is again held back by his comrades. "You are no Macedonian King! You are a mere man who seeks to glorify himself by the achievements and victories of his men, the real Macedonians in this army!"
"You Age Old Fool!" cries out Alexander, moving now to his feet off his couch, "You dare speak maliciously to me. You are brave to think you will not pay for your outburst this night!"
"Nay, but I do pay for it!" retorts Cleitus, turning to his old guards behind him, "We all pay! Our dead fare better than us to not live to see my Macedonian brothers whipped and beseeching Persians for some acknowledgment by their King!" He looks to his comrades for support but none makes a move to his side.
"Remove him from here!" yells out Hephaestion, stepping up before Alexander, pointing out to the old guards, "Take him out of here NOW!!"
Alexander shoves aside Hephaestion trying his rush forward to reach Cleitus. But he is held back by a firm hand of his lover. Hephaestion looks compassionately yet sternly at him to make him realize his position and those who were watching in the room. Hephaestion pulls his lover in, "Alexander! Let this be! He is but a fool as you say filled in his cups!" The King glares back, staring out into the room, feeling the eyes of his men fall upon him, anticipating the worse from the King. Again, Alexander concedes briefly but looks above his lover's shoulder, at the older general as he tries ease his temper.
"Cleitus, do you see yourself far better than your King to openly voice forbidding offenses in my presence?" screams out Alexander, over Hephaestion's shoulder, "Do you see yourself more able to lead and rule this kingdom than I?"
"I am a free born Macedonian!" counters the old general, "As are all your Macedonian brothers. We are free to speak our mind. Or has that changed in your new world?"
At that moment, Alexander's daemon roars within him for blood, for reparation, for his injured pride. Unable to control his emotions any longer, he leaps up calling for his guard into motion that his life was in danger; but to his own dismay, no one was willing to charge against Cleitus.
Astound to the response, Alexander walk out into the room glaring dissipatedly towards his companions and guests, "Alas!" turning to catch sight of each man in the room, "I too walk in line with Darius, led as a prisoner by his own brothers, with nothing but his name as King. I am to be deserted by the very men I lead!" Ever the dramatic actor, the King, slowly turns away from the men and starts to walk to his couch with his head downward in disappointment.
To the relief of all in the room, Cleitus is once again removed from the room but only briefly, as the old guard forces his way through his comrades to head straight into the direction of his king pointing his finger, "Alas my King, in Hellas what on evil government!"
Every man's blood is up in the room. The glowering and furious look of each companion is fixed against those sitting behind Cleitus. The room falls into complete silence and mortification to the old general's words. The quote from Euripides drama, Andromache was an unquestionable act to defame the King's position. As all present were aware, the line from the drama was meant as an accusation against Alexander for his selfishness as well as his lack of skills as a leader. The passage inferred it was the army who set up the victory over the enemies, yet it was only the general who reaped the honors. In other words, Alexander was of no greatness comparable to the Gods, but rather a meek King and commander whose successes came from the strength of his army. It was the support of the army that granted Alexander's victories, the same army who was now being held without appreciation or acclamation by their very own King.
Fully aware of Eurpides drama, Alexander's eyes go completely black and becomes completely blinded with rage. With his daemon fully invoked beyond containment and comprehension, Alexander rushes away from Hephaestion and grabs a pike from a nearby guard and runs towards Cleitus as he was being led out of the room. The old commander turns to the sudden sound of commotion in time to face his King possessed with a look of death, as he suddenly feels the pike run through his abdomen.
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"Clear the room!" bellows Hephaestion to his companions, as he holds onto Alexander's shaking body lying on the floor with his head on his lap. Tightly enfolding the King close, the young general looks to his friends again, "Quickly get everyone out and secure the doors!"
Ptolemy and Perdiccas tread around Hephaestion, looking down at their broken King crying uncontrollably and muttering incoherently under his breath. "Ptolemy!" calls out Hephaestion looking up to his trusted friend, "have the camp sealed off and allow no one in or out!" The young general further orders "Make sure the guards are doubled around the perimeter." The blue eyes inflamed with concern and anguish move over to the only other person he could call a true friend, "Perdiccas, have the companions gathered. We will need to call for a council!" He then reaches out for his friend to pull him close, "But before that make sure they take control of their men and have them ensure the army that the King is well and that this is all but an unfortunate tragedy. We must make them calm and maintain order!"
Hephaestion then looks to Bagoas hanging behind the shadows of the hall. "Bagoas! Come help me bring the King to his rooms!" Without hesitation, Bagoas quickly kneels to the floor aside the general to help lift Alexander to his feet. But their efforts are interrupted as more men rush to their side.
Alexander is oblivious to his surrounding detached to the realism that he had just tried to take his own life. Having pulled out the same spear that he plunged into Cleitus, he had tired to turn it upon himself; but Hephaestion intervened, shielding his body in harms way. Thus to kill himself, Alexander would have found himself spiking the one person who held more value to him than his empire and perhaps his own existence. After releasing the spear, Alexander collapsed hopelessly to his knees with no regard to those around him. The King is swallowed by his own personal grief and shame for the death of his old friend. Believing he had brought this disgrace upon himself, he sought only to humble himself to his Gods to the dead corpse of his old comrade.
The King's body shook distressingly, a seizure of his emotional imbalance of fury and regret. His grief was genuine to him as a mortal would mourn for any loved one. He had not wished-for the death of his friend, but only wanted to end his antagonizing verbiage. Alexander's pride and ego fueled by his personal daemon closed his mind and senses to rationale as he lounged forward out of pure anger.
Alexander's mind flashes over to the last image of Cleitus looking at him with both disbelief as well as acceptance of his fate. It was if the old guard had come to terms that his services were no longer required, that his purpose for his king had been fulfilled.
Facing the warm caress of his lover's hand stroking his cheek and hair brings Alexander out of his darkness. Looking up, the King finds his beloved solemnly staring down as if trying to covey a thousand thoughtful words in one look. The deep blue cerulean eyes do not hide their truth, the look of concern, sorrow and despair reflected back at him. Alexander stares lost as if to measure the level of love he may have lost from Hephaestion for his despicable, tyrant like behavior. He was desperate to determine whether the love of Hephaestion had wavered or possibly lessen from the fear that one day he too could be spiked through for his own words. He finds his own answers as he listens to Hephaestion takes command of the room.
Alexander watches his love take control of the situation, barking orders. The King is relived to the solid compliance of other companions to his general's instructions. Unable to hear what was spoken, Alexander is comforted to know that Hephaestion had not sought to desert him in his darkest hour.
His lover had stepped up in his place when he had lost his way from his himself. Hephaestion remained his foundation; his bedrock to bringing him back to reality.
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Unexpectedly Leonnatus, and Seleucus step up with a few guards. It always amazes Hephaestion how his fellow companions can become easily sobered from a night of drinking when duty called. The young general looks up to the two instigators of the dreadful night. They stood obviously grief stricken but stone faced. There was not a shadow of remorse or regret emitting from them for Cleitus' death.
Hephaestion looks down at Cleitus' body lying motionless across the floor in his own pool of blood. The old guard had found his own demise by countering against the very man to whom was sworn to protect. Staring at his dead friend, Hephaestion reflects upon how Cleitus had always spoken of a glorious death. To be killed on the battlefield among his brothers. He had talked of a death of a heroic soldier, a divine warrior worthy of a place in the Elysian Field. But the old general's personal pride and foolishness took that dream away, for his appalling and perfidious conduct of this night would forever be itched upon the mind and heart of the Macedonian men and of the King. Carefully, Leonnatus, moves up to the body along with several guards to carry the body to Cletius' tent. His body was to be washed and cleaned until he could be laid to rest. Hephaestion breaks his stare to look up to his companion, "We will need to hold a counsel to decide his funeral." With a slight bow of his head, Leonnatus removes the body out from the hall.
Looking down at his distraught King, Hephaestion gets to his feet to help bring Alexander out and away from the darkness and calamity of the evening. He looks to a nearby guard, "Go and find the King's Physician!" orders the young general, "Do it quietly and with haste!"
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Back at the King's Residence in Susa – February 324
Alexander is unable to distinguish the soft voices as he slowly opens the double doors of his lover's rooms. As he enters, Alexander searches out for his lover, before he is able to focus over the four servants fussing over Hephaestion's wedding tunic. Alexander grins to catch his general's expression give way to his annoyance of the whole scene. Not yet having his presence noticed, Alexander sits silently in a large chair in the corner of the room watching the spectacle before him.
Another tunic is placed on his lover and with an even louder sigh; Hephaestion accepts the red golden silken coat. Standing ever so still, Hephaestion stood defeated as the servants once again bustle over his coat cutting, hemming and adjusting it over him. Alexander watches in awe at the god before him. The sun only enhances the colors of the coat as it dances and complements Hephaestion golden muscular body against his long auburn hair and oceanic blue eyes.
The King smiles as if to agree that there was nothing that could overshadow his lover's beauty. Regardless of the situation, through the grime and grunge of a bloody battle to the soft silk woven tunic, Hephaestion's strength and love had never faltered. The man was constant as the stars and unvarying in his presence as the sands in the desert. If Alexander was to be regarded as the sun god, Hephaestion was his moon, to whom he would chase throughout eternity to be by his side.
Well hidden in the darkness of the corner, Alexander sits quietly amused. He holds back his laughter as watches another tunic bought out. Hephaestion glances over in the direction of the King, as if to hear the silent laughter dancing in his lover's eyes. Focusing on nothing in particular, Hephaestion speaks out, "How long were you planning to sit there before you would come to greet me?"
No longer able to hold back his delight, Alexander steps up to approach his lover. The servants immediately scurry among themselves to pack the suits away as they recognize the other man in the room. A young boy quickly removes the coat off the young general, leaving him to stand bare-chested with only a thin pair of silk trousers loosely tied around him.
Alexander pauses momentarily as he takes in the sight of Hephaestion's body. The scars of his battle wounds rehash within Alexander his recent nightmares of the deaths of Parmenion and Cleitus. Instinctively, Hephaestion takes notice of his lover's hesitation and quickly steps up to meet Alexander near his seat.
"Where have your thoughts been of late Alexander?" whispers Hephaestion as he embraces his lover, "You appear lost in your own world and have been quite remote."
Alexander lowers his head in denial unable to find a persuasive response. The young general pushes away slightly to take in a full sight of his lover, "I see and feel you but your mind appear to be in a far off land. Where are you? "Hephaestion's expression goes dim, "Is it me? Have I …"
"NO!" desperately exclaims Alexander. Without another word, Alexander gingerly withdraws furthers from Hephaestion's hold and stands silently to gaze upon the only person who held his heart and life. He then reaches out to touch the scars of Hephaestion's body following each jagged wound with his fingers. Though Alexander had no fewer scars than his lover, there wasn't an area of the King's body that did not have its own traces of wounds from his years of campaigning. But these scars were expected as a commander and King of his army. However, the battle marks on Hephaestion's body only reiterates to Alexander the burden his lover has carried to follow and love him. As he touches the darkest and lowest scar, he is brought back to the events proceeding after Cleitus' death. This wound came from no enemy but from Alexander himself. This was the heaviest consequence and penalty carried by Hephaestion to stand by his King.
"Alexander" whispers Hephaestion realizing where his lover eyes had settled. "Alexander you must stop punishing yourself for this. You were not yourself and I am as much to blame for it as you!" Taking his hand to stroke his lover's cheek and place a soft kiss to reaffirm his explanation. He then slowly moves back to reach out for an article of clothing, "My love, you should not dwell on the past. We do not have much time together to waste on trivial matters."
The last words of Hephaestion's statement startles Alexander, he immediately grabs hold of his lover's hand. "What do you mean!" as his grip tightly, "Why do we not have much time?"
Hephaestion's face goes white as he scrambles to find a persuasive justification. With the wedding a week away, the young general's own personal nightmares of his imminent death were becoming more vivid and a nightly repeated occurrence. It also brought no comfort to Hephaestion to realize that Alexander had begun the early stages of his plans for their move to Ecbatana by the late harvest season. He knew his time with Alexander would be coming to an end. The young general had been preoccupied with making his own preparations to ensure the King was well cared for after his passing. His concerns for his lover without him deeply worried Hephaestion. But his silence is broken, as the grip of Alexander's hand around his arm goes tighter as Hephaestion is again questioned about his remark.
With a meager smile, Hephaestion covers his lover's hand, "I only mean to say that we will only find ourselves growing older sooner musing on matters we cannot change." now facing his lover again, "Must I also remind my King, of his plans to take on two more wives. I have no doubt he will have any time for me!"
"On the contrary!" smiles Alexander; "I expect to find myself seeking you out more after the wedding!"
"Well then" pulling his lover in for a soft kiss, "My king your company will always be welcomed!" Hephaestion turns away from Alexander, scanning his room for something to cover his chest. "We must go and meet the others to discuss your new plans for Ecbatana." The young general releases his hold and walks towards a discarded chiton near his coffer.
"What troubles you Alexander?" casually states Hephaestion as he settles upon his bed to pull down his trouser, "Will you not share your burdens with me?" Having not heard a response, Hephaestion gets to his feet and turns to reach out for his chiton. He stands to come face to face with Alexander. Surprised, Hephaestion finds himself sitting back down on the bed.
"Alexander!" gasps the young general looking down to the now kneeling King. The look of despair and sorrow mirroring back at him breaks off Hephaestion from any further thoughts. "What is it my love?"
But the King does not reply, instead he runs his hands up onto Hephaestion's knees gliding them bilaterally up his thighs. He stops to look directly at his lover and bends forward to lead Hephaestion to him with his hand cupping behind his neck. The young general does not resist the hungry and desperate kiss from his lover. Their lips collide into each other and deepen as each man pulls their bodies closer. Alexander loses his balance and topples over his lover's naked body. But the King does not break their contact as he struggles to tug the pins of his chiton. With Hephaestion's assistance, Alexander pushes down his clothing to kick it off onto the floor. The warmth of his lover's body against him triggers the King's senses, settles his mind and brings harmony to his entire existence. Alexander takes pleasure in the moment having spent most of the day trying to occupy and distract the tensions from his recent nightmares. But now with his lover, he comes to accept that the Gods do decide the fates of men. As it was Alexander's destiny to conquer and integrate the Greeks and Persians, it would also be the Gods' judgment for the deaths of his fallen companions and commanders. Hephaestion was wise and profound in his assertion that the past could not be changed; however, Alexander had other reasons for wanting to ponder on the past. He sought to redeem his lover and to make mends for his past transgressions. He pulls away abruptly from Hephaestion to stare longingly at him. Without an explanation, he leans forward for a strong embrace, "I vow to make it right for you Phai! I promise before the Gods to amend my past misdeeds towards you. I will love only you in this life and next!" Taken back with the unexpected declaration, Hephaestion looks somberly up, "I have never had any regrets for loving you Alexander. As I have told you before, I knew the consequence of being with you. I do it because I love you!"
Hephaestion turns his head to search out his lover's lips and pushes into him as if to reaffirm his vow. Without the use of words, the men merge themselves further into each other trying passionately to charge though and annihilate another barrier that had been built around them throughout their years together. They ravish each other to establish some physical affirmation of their enhanced love. They make no effort to hold back their needs as they thrust aggressively into each other's body until they find their release and stake their claim time and time again.
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As they lay saturated and intertwined in each other arms, they silently relish in the moment finding complete comfort. Not wishing to break the mood, Alexander sits up to lean on his elbow to lovingly caress his lover's body. "I had always wondered what would happen if we left this all behind..." But the King is interrupted by Hephaestion taking hold of his hand to stop him from gliding over his scars, and moves forward to look sternly down at the other man. "You would never be able to push your destiny behind you Alexander. Your destiny has been etched by the Gods before we began this campaign. The Gods have always dictated your fate Alexander. You were meant for greatness!"
Alexander concedes momentarily to the words to reflect upon their validity. He lies back calling forward the day after Cleitus' death.
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Hi All: This was a difficult chapter to write! Thanks TribalShimmy for giving me the boost to submit it!
P.S. I am no poet but I gave it my best shot - I hope this chapter wasnt toooo much of a history lesson!
P.S.S. The Hunting Party will be updated sometime late this week!