A Soldier's Duty –Thirty-Five
A continuation of Chapter Thirty-Four – Hephaistion thinks he's going back to Pella, however…
***Theocritos, poet, circa 300 bce
Giving a silent nod to his oldest brother, Demetrios, who at thirty-three was often away to Athens as well as other polis in service to the King Hephaistion strode toward his couch. He noted Demetrios' golden beard, which was heavily silver and had been slightly discolored from last night's wine had been carefully groomed this morn. Undoubtedly, he was off again, somewhere to play the dandy Hephaistion reflected as he slid down beside Amyantas. After cleansing his hands, he began to eat the dates and figs set before him in a small blue bowl. When he lifted the last of the fruit, his eyes widened with pleasure. A scene of two frolicking dolphins splashing about in the blue waters of the Aegean ornamented the crockery.
Demetrios leant over, fingered the edge of the dish, and frowned. "One of Mana's favored bowls? Why you and not me?" His voice, a rich tenor had the wheedling sound of a spoiled child. He had trained himself to imitate Demosthanes, the Athenian orator, who was often the butt of jokes in Macedon. Amyantas looked away with a disdainful grin when Demetrios bent closer, his long gold ringed fingers playing about with a cluster of purple grapes that had been set on a tiny plate near Hephaistion. Hephaistion noted the jasmine scented oiled curls. The long twisted scar that wrapped about his brother's neck, a long ago gift from a Thracian pig sticker he liked to say, usually red from Demetrios' scratching was covered over by a thick torque of rich gold that gleamed against his tanned skin. Snake bracelets glowed upon his strong biceps. He often thought his brother had the soul of a dandy, except he had seen him on the field of battle and knew he was a born killer. A boyhood friend of Erygius and Laomedon, two of Alexander's mentors, an occasional crony of Leander of Olynthus, an assassin in Philip's pay, Demetrios wore a long woolen tunic of green with blue embroidery that matched the fur-trimmed chalmys about his broad shoulders. On his long, slender feet were his best traveling sandals and about his waist, his sword belt with his silver and ivory hilted battle sword and ivory handled dagger inlaid with gold and garnets from the Indias. It was a gift from Philip for some service long in the past.
"A journey?"
"Aye, a long one too. Athens." Demetrios sighed as though it was the last thing he would seek to do, but Hephaistion knew otherwise. His brother loved the ways of the agora and was always made warmly welcome there. As though he could read his thoughts Demetrios blew Hephaistion a kiss, raised a slanted brow as he lifted a hand, and proclaimed: "No, even Amphitryon's bronze-hearted son, who defeated the savage Nemean lion, loved a boy – charming Hylas, whose hair hung down in curls."*
As the words rang out loudly in the hall, Hephaistion half rose, fists clenched and eyes burning with fury. "Last night was enough; I'll not listen to this again! By the whore of Egypt, Demetrios, I am no man's whore!"
"Down pais," the strong hand of Amyantas who was mouthing obscenities in Demetrios' direction pulled him back. "You'll have to have a stomach stronger than the one you've now when you head back to Pella."
Hephaistion's anger vanished hearing his brother's words. He did not catch the unspoken import behind the words, nor the knowing look between Amyantas and Demetrios. "Pella? Truly, I am going back? How do you know of this?
"Aye, so I've heard. "Tis said the Ki - Alexander misses you." Demetrios said stuffing his mouth with grapes.
"Noooo!" Again, Amyantas grabbed Hephaistion, this time about the waist and pulled him down. "Demetrios, do not tease him or I'll never break my fast!"
Demetrios shrugged, an indolent gesture and languidly raised a hand. "I tease this boy, this gawky child? Nay, I only recite a verse and he becomes undone. Truly Hephaistion where is your grace, your dignity? Do not act the wounded virgin. Did Ganymede scream so about the honors Zeus paid him?"
"In my fist is my honor! By the Gods, the King is no Zeus and if he were –" Raging Hephaistion swore swinging up from his couch and advanced on his brother who had likewise risen, but with a grin of mischief on his face.
"Hold!" The brothers turned at the heavy base that boomed out in anger across the hall. Hektor, one of their father's closest companions stood with arms crossed and a deep frown upon his sunbaked face. "Were you my sons I would take the strap to you all! Hephaistion, you speak so at your peril!" Moving quickly he looked the angry youth in the face, "Though you may think it never, upon your life and your Mother's memory do not ever speak it again!" Thickset and black-eyed with a grizzled beard and the stance of a weary veteran breaking apart scuffling recruits, the older man shook his head and continued.
"Is this how you three, your Father's pride, show respect for the memory of your Mother? And would you toss the honor of She who serves you with her own hand upon the floor and stamp upon it?" Embarrassed, Hephaistion looked down and saw the small plate lodged under Amyantas' foot.
"Mother Dia forgive me!" Hephaistion swore softly as he picked it up carefully and set it back upon the table. Turning quickly, he caught the outline of his Mother's robe as it was pulled from sight just behind the doorway leading toward the kitchens.
"Forgive me."
"Aye, I too, I am no better than an Thracian." Amyantas sank down with a sigh.
"All this over a bit of verse and some crockery." Hektor shook his head and strode quickly from the hall and for a moment, all three brothers sat open mouthed staring at one another.
"Crockery?" Hephaistion frowned.
"Crockery, aye," Demetrios shook his head solemnly, but his light blue eyes glittered. "I did not get any." He said pointedly as he studied the small figure of an octopus swimming in a sea blue on Hephaistion's plate.
"Mana loves me and knows I am melancholy. It makes me happy." Hephaistion teased, but believed it to be quite true. The sight of the small dish brought a wide smile to his face easing his anger. It was a favorite dish and brought out only on feast days. It was part of his mother's dowry and she treasured it. Pitting an olive carefully with his teeth, he glanced about. No one else had such a bowl or plate, not even his father.
He eyed the dishes with curiosity and looked up to catch his mother watching him from the corner of the doorway. She nodded but was not smiling, and seemed rather upset. His face colored with shame and he was glad none of her dishes had broken. He looked down at the handful of grapes fresh from the orchard resting in the middle; their rich purple skins still bore the wetness of dawn and were cool to the touch. Silently he broke off a branch and held them out to Demetrios.
"Pax."
"None for me?" The laughter began in Hephaistion's belly and he could not contain it. Amyantas reminded him of a pup he had once raised. Wide eyed and eager to please, or at least to get whatever was on hand to eat.
"You? Why should I give you anything?" Hephaistion teased as he began to pull the plump, juicy morsels from their vine and pop them into his mouth. "Delicious! Here, you may have one, because you are my favored brother." Amyantas raised a long golden eyebrow but snatched up the proffered fruit lest Hephaistion change his mind.
"Brat!" He made a face as he swallowed it down. "You have faced down fierce enemies, fought beside the King, won a crown of victory at Chaeronea yet still you are a brat!" Amyantas sighed heavily though his blue eyes were merry. "I fear you will never change, Hephaistion. Oh, well, 'tis a pity for I…"
Suddenly Hephaistion swung round on the couch when he felt the hand upon his shoulder.
"Hephaistion father seeks a word with you." Demetrios straightened and pulled under him the edge of his chalmys, which was being licked by one of the hunting dogs awaiting table scraps.
"I will go now, I've eaten enough." Quickly he rose from the couch giving his brother a wink thinking at last he was on his way home.
"Wait, 'Tion." Stopped by the urgent tone of his brother's voice Hephaistion paused near the door. "I cannot tell you…" No longer acting the clown or seeking to rouse Hephaistion's anger Demetrios ran his hand through his curly hair, as he came beside him. Seeking the right words, he took Hephaistion's arm. "Hear him out first, please. You are fearless in battle, and one who never backs down, and I know you love Alexander, you would do anything for Alexander wouldn't you?"
His blue eyes widening until they seemed more violet than blue Hephaistion drew in a quick breath and looked into Demetrios' face fear twisting his stomach. "What, what? Has something happened to Alexander? I have heard about the hetaira, did something happen? I…I, I…"
"Sometimes, Tion, we must do that which we may not like, but we must do as Father bids us. It is good for all concerned. We are more than Amyntor's sons, we are in service to the King, do not forget this, and do not ever speak ill of him, even to Alexander, never! Agree with Alexander if he should, but do not voice it alone. And remember, Philip is a fair man, he does not forget those who serve him well, Tion, remember that."
Hephaistion's legs felt rubbery, his head buzzed and his eyes burned as his brother's words floated down about him as he walked from the hall.
Tbc.