UnHeralded Strength, Book I.25 (Revised)
Continues directly from Chapter 24.
*Diamond, the ancient Greeks called referred to them as god's tears or fallen stars.
Reluctantly, Bagoas pushed away Alexander's hands when he reached out for him upon entering the inner chamber of Laomedon's tent. Quick words of regret left his tongue, and with a heavier heart than he would have owned to if asked, for he longed for Iskander's embrace he moved back, letting Alexander's hands rest on his arms. Looking into the depths of the luminous grey-blue eyes watching him and denying the desire and longing he saw was difficult for he could deny Iskander nothing he asked. However, he knew there would be other times, recalling the urgency in Philip's voice his personal desires were cast aside.
"My… Iskander you must come he…Hephaistion will not wait. The physician Philip says it is most urgent you attend him now. " Alexander's eyes were bright with questions, but he listened as Bagoas repeated Philip's directions and bent over the low table inhaling deeply of the smoke once Bagoas had prepared the sacred herbs. Bagoas stood to the side, trying not to inhale, or breathe. His eyes watered again, as they had earlier, but otherwise he felt nothing. He did however note that he would like to discover the richly sweet scent that the smoke brought. It seemed familiar, but he could not speak its name. Alexander, sitting on a low camp stool let his lungs fill stifling even the slightest desire to cough as he breathed in the heavy straw colored smoke whose tendril-like weavings enveloped him in a scented embrace.
"What drug is this? It is unfamiliar, yet soothing and tender to my mind." He paused inhaling one last time then threw back his blond head, eyes half closed, his shining curls glinting in the soft fire light, mouth slightly open, his lips wet from where his tongue had moistened them and reached out his hands.
For a moment Bagoas was overtaken by Alexander's eroticism, thinking with a start that if Hephaistion were not roused by the sight of his lover as such, then he truly was a dead man.
"Such dre…dree…dreams…they beckon. What drug… this?" Alexander murmured to himself, seemingly lost in the pleasant dream the drugs had effected. Bagoas knew his quick mind was searching for information, but his voice drifted off as the narcotic influence of the drug overtook him.
When he looked up into Bagoas' eyes, Bagoas could see they were strange, the pupils large and dark. He looked as though in trance with the god.
"Alexander?" He began tentatively, Alexander turned from his communion nodding slowly as though hearing Bagoas' voice from far off.
"It is well I will go to him now, nai." He responded the dreaminess still strong in his eyes, which seemed to glint with another intelligence that Bagoas had never noticed before. Something else moved behind that mysterious blue-grey gaze, the presence of a spirit, what manner Bagoas could not guess. As though disconnected with his physical body, but perhaps even more soundly aware of who and what he was that before, Alexander moved forward through Laomedon's tent with a certainty that spoke more than verbal reassurances. Hurriedly, Bagoas grabbed up Alexander's cloak, or Laomedon's he couldn't be certain and followed. Laomedon was not present and he doubted he would mind that his cloak warm the King. He only knew it was snowing, growing colder by the hour and Alexander wasn't dressed properly. Should he take ill with Hephaistion's state already so desperate it would be a sorry situation for them all, indeed.
"Hephaistion, does he call for the King?" Bagoas shook his head, his black tresses dancing across his slender shoulders when Laomedon's voice caught him. He turned, white snow turning in a soft enveloping flurry - lacy whirls of white patterned against the blackness of his hair dappling it.
"Non, my Lord, he does not rouse." He paused a moment awaiting Laomedon who had just come from General Philotas' tent. He stood still as the new falling snow, hoping Lord Philotas would not come out, he knew the man disliked him and made little effort to hide it. At first uncertain how much to say Bagoas finally admitted. "The physician, Philip, has asked for the King." Bowing low, he left Laomedon where he stood, lost in the white screen, running to catch up with Alexander who, careless of the wet snow underfoot ran toward Hephaistion's tent.
Bagoas sped to catch him up, tossing the heavy cloak over his shoulders. Nearkhos met them at the tent's entrance opening his eyes wide at Alexander's appearance. For it was clearly apparent he was under the spell of some drug or god. Before, only Hephaistion had ever been present when he was as such. Alexander gave the barest glance of acknowledgement as he entered.
For several moments Alexander stood in the small entrance to Hephaistion's bedchamber. He made no sound and with a great sigh he knelt by the invalid's bed to take Hephaistion's hand in his. He loosed a gush of soft sounds, words of some form, but no one but Setapas who hearing them smiled and stood back a bit watching, understood. Philip watched intently as Alexander stroked a loosened red gold tendril resting on Hephaistion's forehead and kissed the hand resting in his.
At length he seemed to come back to himself speaking in his mother tongue. "Tion, wake, please just for a bit! Let me see you are with me still then you can sleep." Tenderly his plea grew to a chant for intervention. Setapas watching, smiled slightly, he had seen it, the slightest tremor in Hephaistion's face, along his lips. Too small to catch to all but those who knew to watch for it. He nodded as though in conversation with himself and turned, gesturing to Bagoas and Philip.
Directing Alexander who refused to leave Hephaistion's side, they moved Hephaistion's bed, with great care so as not jostle its inhabitant into the middle of the small room. Rapid shifting of other furniture within the small chamber was effected. Then Setapas took Alexander and placed him at the bed's head. He glanced at Philip who nodded in seeming agreement.
"Krateros?" Philip spoke quickly while studying Alexander who met his studious gaze with a small grin then blushed red. It bore the sweetly, sheepish look of a young boy, a boy the royal physician had long been familiar with. He seemed satisfied with something and smiled slightly as he clapped his King on the arm and then nodded toward Setapas. "Aye, his spirit is strongest, then Nearkhos to complete it." Alexander kneeling at Hephaistion's head did not hear them as he continued to caress Hephaistion's face with tender fingers and speak to him. As though from some far off place he heard Philip sending his page, Kleon for Krateros and then Nearkhos was by his side, jabbering in his ear. Oddly enough it did not irritate him. It seemed he could hear - see many things altogether, some in voices, colors he had never known before. Hephaistion's voice was among them. It seemed to echo faintly in his senses in great waves of green and pink that pulsed with his very heart beat.
Krateros came quickly, bareheaded, breathless from running, his hair damp from the now heavy snow fall.
"He sleeps still?" His voice was full of the frown on his face as threw off his cloak letting it lie on the ground as he stepped next to Alexander and studied Hephaistion. Bagoas noted his brow rose seeing Setapas, but he said nothing. Rather he addressed Alexander.
"You've need of me? What can I do?" Alexander inclined his head in Setapas' direction. Krateros gave him a curiously, almost defensive glance and with a slightly nervous inclination of his head acknowledged his status. His eyes darting back to Alexander, he nodded once more in Setapas' direction this time more slowly, imitating as best he could the way the Persian might.
"We've need of you, Krateros." Philip said as he helped Setapas lay out several fresh herbs bowls and incenses.
Setapas said nothing, but looked him in the eye and spoke. "Your king has need of you." Without asking further explanation Krateros allowed himself to be placed at the bottom right corner of the bed while Nearkhos who came when called, quickly, for he had been hovering in the doorway, took the left.
Flute, softly, mysteriously began to weave a melody about them, long; low notes directed here and there seemed to touch down upon Hephaistion. The three men watched as Setapas directed Bagoas to play over Hephaistion's still form. Alexander watching with great curiosity knew the flute might draw Hephaistion's spirit back, but what else the Egyptian might do, he could not guess. Setapas removed a large pouch from a nearby saddlebag; he unrolled a deer hide tied with a silken rope of tasseled gold to reveal four large objects nestled with great care within. Each was wrapped in layers of linen and silk. Shimmering in the brazier and oil light three large deep red crystals were revealed. A fourth, larger crystal glittered as though it held a thousand rainbows within. Even in the darkness of the small tent, in the midst of winter it shone with Helios' light itself. At least four inches tall, ending in a single point, the red stones refracted back the gleaming light throwing off small, darker rainbows that fell across the faces of those present. Taking these up with great reverence, mouthing silent prayers Setapas placed one in each man's hands. Taking the large stone up, Krateros sniffed his, moved it about in his hands, his eyes widening as he realized what he held, but kept silent and stood head bowed, his lips moving in prayer to the gods. Alexander stood entranced, his eyes wide, filled with some knowledge only he and, perhaps Setapas might be heir to. Nearkhos smiled nervously when the red stone was placed in his hand, but stood solemnly knowing a strong rite of healing was about to be effected and also closed his eyes in silent prayer.
"Bagoas, play the note I taught you, let it linger on you have done before." A single note began resounding low and smooth. It was not unpleasant to the ear and seemed to fill the ether about them with sound and color their naked eyes could not comprehend, but their others senses knew well. Krateros' smiling, his face gentle, spoke softly as the flute's soft note continued to float about them. "'Ah, 'tis my mother's heartbeat, I know it well.'
Setapas smiled and bowled low at the remark, "So many say, my Lord."
Alexander spoke, his voice distant, soft…" Non, 'tis the singing of the gods in their heavenly home." Nearkhos said nothing, his eyes were closed, and he swayed ever so slightly his expression soft, gentle in repose.
"It is all those things and more." Setapas answered exchanging smiles with Bagoas who continued his playing. His long, slender fingers formed the note with his breath. Slowly, he increased the volume as Setapas had shown him until even he felt it had taken form and began to move about his head with a gentle spinning rhythm.
Within the space of thirty long breaths, Philip lit more incense, the first strongly narcotic smelling, quickly adding juniper, amber, frankincense and myrrh making the air more pleasant. Then, he began to crush more herbs, roots and stems into a small marble bowl. These he seeped in a large bowl mixing in aromatic oils until the water had taken on a pinkish hue, and he nodded to Setapas.
With great care and the finest, softest linen, Hephaistion's chest and forehead were bathed - his hands and feet as well as the crown of his head, his eyelids and base of his throat where anointed with Nard.
Placing a firm, but gentle hand on Alexander, Setapas helped ease him out of his chiton and anointed his navel, heart, throat and crown with the same oils. This done, amid the constant note flowing softly through the air, Setapas took up the fourth stone, the clear one which bore a great many detailed facets and held it high coming to stand by Hephaistion's right side. He placed the brilliant crystal over his heart then moved it along his body tracing a sacred pattern only those such as he would know. Then he stood behind Alexander and began to strange chant in a hushed sylaballic tone. The low note of the flute mixed with his voice and it seemed the air shifted and began to vibrate with a lush, low sound. Alexander closed his eyes, feeling himself lifted from his body. He saw himself as though from a distance standing holding the large, glistening crystal, god's tears, a damas. It was near as big as his own hand. He felt as nothing and everything and knew instinctively what to do. By thought alone he looked for Hephaistion in the great blue ether, calling to him in a secret name spoken by them eons ago.
Nearkhos' eyes wide open, still swaying a bit, stood smiling hypnotically while Krateros fought to stay alert, not because he feared something, but he wanted to know and understand what was happening.
The flute note grew fuller, richer, as though the heartbeat of each man present magnified a thousand times. Light seemed to play tricks with their eyes, darting like shining silver-white strings across and about them, then, to Krateros' amazement, for he had forced himself not to give in the enticement of the flute and incense it seemed the crystal in his hand grew warm and light shot out from its tip toward Alexander and Nearkhos. Shaking his head, blinking rapidly to clear his vision, he watched stunned as a grid of light seemed to form about Hephaistion's body. Tensing his fingers so as not to drop the large stone he closed his eyes tightly and opened them again. Behind Alexander, as though haloing him, the Egyptian held the tears of the gods. Krateros stood in awe as he watched the magnificent stone glitter shooting rays of colored light about Alexander's head. He had heard about these great and rare stars from the heavens. Almost alive it flashed, glinted and gleamed with the radiance of a thousand rays of Helios' sacred crown. Like a living thing, it threw out rainbows of enormous size and brilliance that his mind could not comprehend. These extended in great swaths of color so pure it enveloped even him, causing him to wonder at the sacred mysteries he had been given leave to honor with his King. Closing his eyes, his mind given up to the mystery he chanted his own song to Zeus asking him to give his earthly son his desire and joy. Songs of praise fell from his lips beseeching Apollo Loxias, Hephaistion's private god to be benevolent and heal him.
"Alexander!" His eyes opened for a moment, and he felt the name leave his lips, but knew before he uttered it Alexander was safe as the heavenly light enfolded him a hundred times over. He was finally driven to close his eyes, even the Egyptian had, as the light grew stronger still and he heard voices about him. When at last he began to open them Hephaistion was yawning, stretching his long arms and legs and smiled at his shocked gaze.
To be continued….