Why Alexandros did not find a swift horse and run for the Gedrosian desert at the news that his mother was within sight of Babylon, Hephaistion had no idea, as that was precisely what he himself was tempted to do.

Now they all had to play host to Queen Mother Olympias. Hephaistion would rather have leapt into a pit of venomous serpents.

On second thought, the serpents were probably somewhere in the queen's baggage train.

The Arabian campaign had come off very well; the local tribes were relatively easy to subdue and readily agreed to pay tribute. Being out in the field was invigorating, and Hephaistion had regretted having to return to Babylon, though it meant the comfort of a real bath and bed as well as seeing his son again.

Akhilles was now two years old, walking and talking as toddlers did. He knew a handful of new words, one of which was, to Hephaistion's surprise, a mangled yet still recognizable version of his name.

"Feston," he laughed, tugging on a lock of hair. Hephaistion winced through his smile; the boy already had a fearsome grip.

"Ah, look what Daddy brought his widdle conqueror!" Lifting the boy out of Hephaistion's arms, Alexandros laughingly brushed his face with a stuffed camel toy he had picked up somewhere in Arabia. Akhilles' favorite plaything had always been his stuffed Peritas, but after more than a year of use and abuse from a toddler it was beginning to look quite ratty.

The single trip he made to the royal harem to convey Alexandros' greeting to the household was almost enough to send Hephaistion back out to the desert. While Stateira's year-old son Kyros greeted him with his trademark look of perpetual bewilderment, Alexandros' little eunuch slut was insufferable, moaning about his fat ankles and thighs even though his pregnancy had ended three months ago.

"Ah, look at me!" he wailed, stuffing yet another sweetmeat into his mouth. "I've become an elephant! Iskander will never call me to his bed again!"

Like a woman, Bagoas had a remarkable gift for finding nonexistent body fat in places where real men would never think to look. Hephaistion merely gave him his best sympathetic smile and offered him the tray of sweetmeats. "Another sesame ball?" he asked innocently.

The child had been a girl, which delighted Alexandros to no end. Bagoas' wailing, on the other hand, was enough to drive any sober Makedonian to drink.

Alexandros peered into the cradle at the sleeping infant, who had been born during his absence. "Aw, look at Daddy's pwecious widdle Muse. What gift do you think Bagoas would like?"

"A trip to the Gedrosian desert, perhaps?" Hephaistion suggested.

Quietly, so as not to wake the baby, Alexandros chided him. "Phai, I do think you're jealous."

Hephaistion gave him a look of wide-eyed innocence. "Jealous, me? Oh, but you misunderstand. The little fruit—er, Bagoas, that is—has been complaining that pregnancy has made him fat and unable to dance for you. You know how healthy the desert air is for new mothers."

"And separate him from this pwecious widdle darling?"

Given the amount of time the little tart was currently spending in the nursery, it would be no great loss. "Well, not having to worry about the baby would help in his recovery." Even more helpful would be guides who conveniently lost their way. "Don't worry, Xandros. I'll make all the arrangements."

By this time, no one questioned the king's taste in naming his offspring, and no one blinked when he announced that his daughter would be called Alexandros Eurydike. Even so, that paternal wink Hephaistion knew and dreaded had not gone out of Alexandros' eyes; he still talked of a Patroklos for his little Akhilles. Hephaistion wisely dropped a few hints in the direction of Stateira and Parysatis; he was not yet desperate enough to suggest sending for Roxane.

He was, however, tempted to get out of Babylon before Olympias arrived. Unfortunately, he did not have a viable excuse and Alexandros made no secret that he fully expected Hephaistion to be a fixture at his side when the Queen Mother arrived.

Hephaistion sincerely hoped Alexandros did not intend to introduce Olympias to Sisygambis; the inevitable catfight that would ensue would echo as faraway as India.

So on the appointed day when the royal litter came through the Ishtar Gate and the aging queen stepped out, he was there with most of the other Companions to meet her. Olympias had awed and in his youth; that subtly terrifying aura had not diminished, nor had her beauty, though she must be close to fifty now.

"Alexandrooos!" she called, holding out arms entwined with heavy snake bracelets.

After the obligatory hugging and kissing, mother and son spent the next fifteen minutes in the courtyard engaged in mutual admiration for each other's outfits.

In the royal nursery, Olympias was presented to Stateira and Parysatis, who were clearly awed by the formidable woman who barked at them in Makedonian Greek, and then to the three children.

Akhilles promptly toddled up to her and tapped her with his Peritas toy. For the occasion, his nurse had dressed him in the fawn skin Olympias had sent. Hephaistion thought he looked absolutely ridiculous. "Now which one is this, Xandros?" she asked.

Alexandros lifted the boy up in his arms so his grandmother could get a better look at him. "This is Alexandros Philippos Akhilles Herakles Olympias Aniketos. Akhilles, say hello to your darling grandma."

Olympias made a dismissive gesture. "So many names for such a little prince," she complained. "Perhaps you should get rid of one, maybe Philippos"

"Mother—"

"Oh, it's just a suggestion, my darling Xandros. What is this thing he is carrying around with him?"

"That's Peritas, his favorite toy," answered Alexandros.

She made a disapproving noise. "Where is the lovely snake I sent him?"

Alexandros did not know and Hephaistion did not see fit to enlighten him that during their absence in Arabia the little fruitcake had had the reptile made into a belt.

"I'm sure it's somewhere about," said Alexandros. "I thought little Akhilles was a bit too young for the real thing, but he has a stuffed snake that he absolutely adores."

Olympias slowly scanned the faces in the nursery; Stateira and Parysatis visibly cringed. "Tell me, which one of these foreign women is his mother? He looks very Makedonian to me. Can it be that you finally took up with that nice girl Kallixena?"

Alexandros made a face even as Hephaistion tried to suppress his laughter. "Mother," he groaned, "did you not get the announcement I sent?"

"Yes, but you write such silly things when you've been drinking too much," she answered.

Hephaistion was suddenly uncomfortable. He prayed Alexandros would not press the matter, but he held out little hope of remaining inconspicuous.

An unlikely savior delivered him.

Drawn like a magnet to the center of attention, the little fruitcake had put on his usual spangles and kohl and come slithering into the nursery. Olympias' eyes were at once drawn to him. "What is that creature?" she asked.

"Oh, that's Bagoas. He's a eunuch," said Alexandros. "They're so marvelous to have around. I ought to send you one."

Hephaistion made a mental note to get Bagoas at the top of the list for transfer to Makedon.

Olympias gave the eunuch's tacky ensemble a critical eye. "Does he like snakes?"

"Oh, yes," said Hephaistion. "I have it on very good authority that he positively adores snakes. He's also great fun at Dionysian festivals, so very limber and talented." He gave Bagoas a knowing look; the little fruitcake looked half a breath from giving him a dirty gesture he had no doubt learned from the soldiers.

For the first time, Olympias noticed him. "Are you still here, Amyntoros?"

He dropped a little bow. "I've been making myself as useful as ever, madam."

"Yes," she said, "Kassandros has been telling me how just useful you've been." She looked meaningfully at the toddler in Alexandros' arms.

Kassandros, he thought, is an asshole.

Once Babylon had witnessed the tail end of the Queen Mother's baggage train, the entire city seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. For six weeks the formidable presence of Olympias had set the royal court on edge, and everyone scrambled to get out of her way.

Strangely enough, the only one who enjoyed her company was Bagoas. The two were often found together in the court of the Hanging Gardens, sharing conspiratorial whispers and laughter. Before her departure, Olympias had begun researching the latest Persian fashions, and Bagoas proclaimed himself an ardent Dionysian, shedding his spangled loincloth for a fawn skin and punctuating his conversation with cries of "Euoi, euoi!"

Hephaistion had seen it all before: the sudden interest in Sogdian belly-dancing around the time Alexandros married Roxane and the inexplicable fetish for Indian fashions during their trip down the river Indus.

In six months, the little fruitcake would be sporting the latest in Makedonian fashions, lisping in an affected Doric Greek patois and insisting that everyone call him Diokles or some other such nonsense.

Ah, but he's going to be such a great favorite around the gymnasium, Hephaistion thought. He took one look at Akhilles, sulking in his fawn skin, and asked, "Do you like wearing that thing?"

When the toddler vigorously shook his head, Hephaistion promptly helped him out of the offending garment. "Well, you only have to wear it when your grandmother comes to visit. With any luck, you'll be middle-aged by the time she decides to come back."

Alexandros wandered into the nursery. "Darling, have you seen Bagoas?"

"No, not recently."

"Do you know where he is?"

Hephaistion pulled a fresh tunic over their son's head and gave him his Peritas toy. "Well, Xandros, he was so devoted to your mother that he absolutely insisted on leaving with her. I tried to persuade him to stay, but he wouldn't hear of it."

Alexandros looked horrified. "He's gone to Makedon"

"Oh, but he's going to have such great fun and make so many new friends," Hephaistion assured him.

Four days of blissful, uninterrupted peace were broken by a sudden spate of nausea. Bounding out of bed, he barely made it to the privy before vomiting up last night's supper. The suspicion that perhaps he had had too much wine became dread as he changed his tunic and noticed how tender and pronounced his nipples were.

"Oh, no!" he growled, punching the air with his fist. "When I get my hands on that little guru I'm going to kill him!"

Hephaistion stormed into the nursery, where Alexandros liked to spend the morning with his children before heading out to the parade ground to review his troops. Akhilles, who was nearly old enough to be potty-trained, had just received a new scroll, Lysis' Latrine Adventure, from Ptolemaios and Thaïs, who had declared it a great success with their three children.

"'Now when Lysis entered the privy, he expected a fearsome monster to leap out at him, but the groaning he heard came from old Sokrates, whose nasty wife Xanthippe had given him bad lentils the night before…'"

"Xandros?" began Hephaistion.

Alexandros looked up from the scroll, which to Hephaistion's horror was fully illustrated. "Yes, dear?"

His lover was not fooling anybody with that look of mock innocence. What the hell were you thinking? he wanted to yell. He was also tempted to suggest to Alexandros that he try getting pregnant for once, but decided that might not be a very good idea. "I don't feel so well."

"But darling, you look so radiant this morning."

That's it, I'm going to strangle Kalanus. "But Xandros, just think—no more cozy evenings playing naked kottabos and reading the latest scrolls. You know I just ordered Nikeratos' Erotic Sicilian Adventure and by the time it arrives I'll be in no shape to enjoy it."

Logic and ambition, however, did not always go hand-in-hand where Alexandros was concerned. A little gleam of madness came into his eyes. "But just think, Phai! We'll have a little Patroklos for our Akhilles."

"Patroklos is supposed to be older than Akhilles!" cried Hephaistion. "And how do you know it'll be a boy? Oh, Zeus, I need a drink."

Alexandros held up his hand. "No wine for the mother-to-be."

I can't do another nine months sober! he thought. "Xandros, I'm too old for this! How many thirty-five year old mothers do you know? And, well, I don't know where I put all those maternity frocks."

"Never mind, we'll design all new ones." Alexandros' eyes lit up with the glow that usually presaged a siege or major campaign. "Yes, you'll have this season's most fetching maternity gowns and we'll send out announcements again—and oh! This time we can try breastfeeding!"

"No! I-I mean, it would so spoil my manly physique, Xandros, and you've always said you liked a hard chest."

"Hmm, yes, I suppose," conceded Alexandros, "but this time we'll have a baby shower the likes of which Babylon has never seen."

He had said that the first time, which only made Hephaistion wonder what spectacle his lover was planning for this occasion. "Will it have a Persian theme again?" If he had to endure anymore bright blue elephants or yellow sunbursts, he would order the responsible eunuchs banished for sheer bad taste.

Alexandros made a dismissive gesture. "No, that's been done before. I was thinking more along the lines of a Troy motif. Yes, we can get a cradle that looks just like an Achaean warship, and a little play set that looks just like many-towered Troy. Our darling boys will have hours of fun pretending to storm it."

And if Hephaistion knew his lover, Alexandros would be right in the royal sandbox playing with the boys, never mind what the generals thought. He sighed. For better or worse, for all his craziness and egomaniacal posturing, Alexandros was a devoted lover and father, and Hephaistion would not have wanted him any other way.

He shrugged. "It, erm, sounds like great fun."

What else could he do?