Alexandros carefully took the little bundle in both hands. "Well, he's very loud."

Hephaistion tried to maneuver himself up so he could get a better look at Alexandros holding the infant, but the stitches in his abdomen hurt too much and Kalanus had warned him against too much exertion for the first few days. If he had thought pregnancy was bad, being confined for childbirth was even worse. "And what else?" he growled. After a ten hour labor, he was in no mood for games.

"He looks just like you, Alexandros," cooed Perdikkas.

Of course the man would say that. Perdikkas had always ranked up there with Ptolemaios as a champion ass-kisser. Hephaistion was able to turn his head on the pillow just enough to see the eunuchs do their usual Persian groveling routine when the infant was presented to them; he did not see the little fruitcake among them, but was certain Bagoas was there somewhere. The boy was hardly one to miss an opportunity to get down on his knees and thrust his ass into the air for the almighty Great King.

No doubt the eunuchs would have been a lot happier had the mother been Stateira or even that flat-chested little stick Parysatis, just as long as the infant had royal Persian blood. Well, tough for you, he thought.

The sound of a furious Roxane breaking furniture in the royal harem and screeching at her handmaids in her native Baktrian had been music to his ears.

"I'm hungry," he grumbled. "No more of that pottage and slops. I want a roast chicken, and a flagon of good Greek wine to go with it. I haven't had anything decent in nine months."

"Not until Kalanus says you can," said Alexandros. "I've had to put up with your cravings for the last four months. Now you'll do as you're told. Glaukias, see to it."

Hephaistion rolled his eyes, both at this and the way Alexandros tucked the infant under his arm and began showing him off to the assembled officials. "Isn't he just the most precious widdle thing? Ooh, you're just Daddy's pwecious widdle conqueror, aren't you?"

Oh, Zeus, not the baby-talk, no. Hephaistion had seen other men reduced to gibbering, sentimental idiots with their newborn offspring, but somehow he had hoped his lover would be different. Right now, Alexandros was about as dignified as old Philip after one of his all-night benders, and a lot less coherent.

"He's adorable, Alexandros," said Leonnatus. "He's got your hair and your strong grip—and his mother's lovely thighs."

Catching his eye, Hephaistion made an obscene gesture. Leonnatus laughed. "His mother is getting a bit testy, I think."

Smirking, Kassandros leaned over to pat the bullion-stitched coverlet. "Don't fret, I'm sure you'll be able to squeeze back into your armor in no time."

"Screw you."

Kassandros gave him an infuriatingly smug look that Hephaistion would have liked to punch right off his face. As if it was not bad enough that Iollas hung all over Alexandros while Hephaistion became more bloated and miserable by the day, but then Antipatros just had to send his insufferable eldest son to Babylon as well. Hephaistion privately wished the old regent a plague of hemorrhoids.

Once the officials were banished to the outer room and the bedchamber doors were closed, Alexandros sat down beside the bed. The infant, in his white blanket banded with purple, was securely settled in the crook of his arm. "You have such a lovely glow about you," he murmured. "Motherhood agrees with you."

Don't get any ideas. "What are you going to name him?"

The light in Alexandros' eyes was one Hephaistion knew well; it usually preceded a monumental siege, slaughter or the founding of yet another godforsaken Alexandria. "He should have a name to match his legacy. Therefore, I have decided to call him Alexandros Philippos Akhilles Herakles Olympias —"

"You're calling him what?"

"I thought it fitting to acknowledge both sides of his father's bloodline," answered Alexandros. "We could add Amyntor for your father if you like, although I've already had Eumenes write up the announcements. I'd give anything to be a gadfly on the wall of Demosthenes' privy when he gets his." He rubbed his palms together and grinned.

"And why are you calling our son Olympias"

The door opened and Alexandros handed the infant off to the waiting wet-nurse. "Ah, there you go now, Daddy's widdle Akhilles." He waggled his little finger at the baby, who bawled at being given to a stranger. Hephaistion just groaned and prayed that the gods were not watching.

Alexandros once again sat down next to him. "Don't look so cross. I once promised Mother I'd name one of my children after her. You know she's been at me for years to have a purebred Makedonian heir, and now—" He caught his breath meaningfully and paused to dab a perfectly timed tear from the corner of his eye.

As much as he loved the man, Hephaistion never ceased to be amazed at how much of a freaking Homeric diva Alexandros was.

"She's going to be so proud," Alexandros finished, still half-sobbing. He paused to collect himself. "Of course, she will want to send gifts."

Hephaistion winced at the memory of the thyrsus baby rattle and anatomically correct Dionysos doll the Queen Mother had already sent. "How wonderful," he answered weakly.

Alexandros playfully nudged his arm. "Once our little Akhilles is old enough, naturally she'll want to give him his very own pet snake. Every boy should have a pet."

"Yes, a pet dog or horse, not a snake."

"Oh, I'm sure it won't be poisonous." Alexandros smiled, then his face suddenly darkened as a troubling thought came to him. "It hadn't occurred to me before, but—oh, Hera, it's unavoidable now."

Hephaistion fumbled to adjust the cushions behind him; although he was no longer carrying the baby's weight, his back still ached. "What's unavoidable?"

"Mother will insist on coming to Babylon."