Title: "The Persian Campaign"

Author: Baliansword

Chapter: 10, "Complications"

A/N: Once again thank you for the reviews. As they famously say, the plot is thickening. Relax, and let us see where it goes! I hope you enjoy. Reviews from all, still appreciated! To those of you that always review, and you know whom you are, thanks so much! I love you all so much. If you've reviewed once, I love you half as much.

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He continued ahead, not sure whether or not he should worry about others finding them. The rain had washed away any tracks they could have left. But at the same time it had eroded many of the hills and paths they were trying to take. Since morning they had been riding. Yet already they had to turn around twice and find new ways to get around the countryside. He glanced back, then pulled his horse to a stop. His companion's head was down, his chin touching his chest, dark hair falling in front of his face. Luckily his horse stopped before hitting the other in the rear. For Hephaestion hadn't even managed to glance up in the last twenty minutes.

"Hephaestion," Cassander said as he turned around the best he could. Hephaestion did not move at first. He didn't even seem to notice. Cassander turned his horse around and brought it up next to Hephaestion's. He reached out and gripped Hephaestion's shoulder. After a few seconds, and a shake, Hephaestion's eyes slowly opened and he looked over at Cassander. "Let me see your arm."

Hephaestion just stared at him for a moment. His eyes were glazed over with what Cassander feared was sickness. Cassander reached over at took Hephaestion's arm. He turned it over and looked at the wound that covered most of his lower arm. The stitches were fine, but the cut wasn't. Dark irritated red flesh surrounded the edges of the wound, a sign of the beginning of infection. Cassander ran a finger over the edge of the wound, where the dark red flesh was beginning to dry and flake. Hephaestion let out a soft sigh of pain, but didn't scream. Cassander was instantly worried.

"Hephaestion," Cassander said as he put a hand on his cheek. He turned Hephaestion's head to him so that he was looking at him. Not looking, his eyes were closed, but he moaned slightly. Cassander raised one of Hephaestion's eyelids. His eyes were drawn back, red where they should be white. Fever, infection, Cassander had seen it before. Cassander screamed out a curse to the gods. He then pulled Hephaestion from his horse and onto his. Hephaestion faced him, still trying to sleep even as Cassander put his head on his shoulder, and wrapped Hephaestion's arms around his waist. Cassander reached over to the chestnut horse and pulled a bag from it. He then pulled his horse back so that he could unbridle the chestnut. As soon as it was let free the chestnut took off in a gallop in the opposite direction, disappearing quickly.

"Hephaestion," Cassander said as he put a hand on his back, "I know this is going to be hard but you can't sleep."

"Hmm," Hephaestion moaned as Cassander rubbed a hand up and down his back. He didn't do it tenderly. He rubbed hard, hoping that it would keep Hephaestion from sleeping. Hephaestion moaned again, so Cassander continued to rub him as he urged the stead forward. They needed to get out of the damned forest. Sadly, Cassander had to admit that he needed help, and they would find that in Babylon.

"Tell me a story," Cassander said as he looked around at their surroundings. He felt Hephaestion's breath against his neck. It was faint. Cassander didn't get a response and began to rub once more on Hephaestion's back. Hephaestion moaned again, this time mumbling something that Cassander couldn't understand. "I need you to stay awake and keep me company Hephaestion. Tell me a story, will you. Just start talking alright?"

"A story," Hephaestion whispered. His forehead rested against Cassander's shoulder. Even through the thin layer of cloth Cassander could feel his temperature rising. He kicked the horse, wishing it could go faster, but knew it couldn't with the extra weight. Not to mention it would only exhaust the horse quicker. He was lost, and he hated the fact of not knowing where he was going. It wouldn't matter if Hephaestion wasn't catching a fever, but he was, and he needed help.

"Tell me something," Cassander pleaded with Hephaestion. "Tell me a story. Tell me about Pella, about Alexander, just tell me something."

"I'm mad…at Alexander."

"I know, but just tell me a story. Tell me something that I wasn't listening to when Aristotle tutored us. Just don't leave me alone, promise not to leave me alone!"

"I won't," Hephaestion said quietly. After a few seconds he faintly began to tell a tale. His voice was soft, but Cassander could hear him. He watched the path the horse was taking, weaving around trees, and looking out for areas where the mud was about to slide away. "Do you remember…when we stole…Olympias' earrings?"

"The golden ones with the blue stones," Cassander said with a laugh. Actually, he hadn't remembered it until Hephaestion had mentioned it. Long ago Alexander had taken to Hephaestion, when they were children, and the other boys had teased him terribly. Cassander had teased him terribly. They had called him a coward when he wouldn't kill a stag in the woods, but he said he didn't want to kill. So Ptolemy had suggested they give him something else to prove his maturity, and his manhood. Hephaestion had agreed before hearing it, not wanting to be robbed of his dignity.

Ptolemy was cruel though, which Cassander had liked at the time. He told Hephaestion he would have to take something of Olympias' and bring it back to them. It would be proof. Alexander was at first skeptical, because he knew that Olympias would be furious if anything of hers went missing. Especially the earrings that Ptolemy wanted Hephaestion to take. Poor Hephaestion, he wouldn't back up though, even when Alexander told everyone they needed to do something else. Hephaestion had silenced him, telling him he could do it. Alexander was worried. Yet Cassander had told Alexander that he would go with him, just to make sure that nothing happened. He was going to be the lookout.

"Yes," Hephaestion continued quietly. "That pair."

"Tell me again what happened," Cassander said. He remembered it in detail now that he thought about it. But he wanted Hephaestion to keep on talking. After a few moments of silence, and a gentle rub on the back, Hephaestion sucked in a pained breath and began to talk again.

"I was scared, but you were coming with me. So I wasn't as scared. Even though," he said after a few seconds of just breathing. "I…thought that you would…lock me in the room or something. But…you didn't…and…I took…her earrings."

"Yes, you did."

"Olympias was so angry with me…but Alexander told her not to be…and she smiled…and sat us both down. Do you remember that?"

"I may, what did she tell us?"

"She said…that we were mischievous…and were lucky…a snake didn't strike us. Then…she gave us each…a kiss on the forehead…and a golden…band. She said that…we must always…protect Alexander…but we must never…forget that we too…would be men…one day…and we must…protect ourselves."

Cassander tenderly rubbed Hephaestion's back. After some time of trying to catch his breath Hephaestion began to recite lines from the Iliad. Cassander knew that it was Alexander's favorite tale of all time. It didn't bother him, for he actually liked the story of Achilles as well. Hephaestion weakly continued to recite, at times saying the same line over and over again for a few minutes. It only made Cassander worry for him. But eventually he would go to the next line and wouldn't repeat anything again for some time.

Cassander continued to look around at their surroundings. After a long while, and a lot of Hephaestion's pained narration, Cassander came to a spot he thought he recognized. He pulled the horse to a stop and looked around for a moment. He had to look up at the trees, and then back at the ground. All the while Hephaestion still obediently continued to tell the story of Achilles. They'd just come to the part where he was demanding Briseis back from King Agamemnon. Cassander looked in front of them at the muddied trail. He knew that this would be a dangerous route to take, but Cassander was also sure that it would lead them back to Babylon.

"Why are we stopping," Hephaestion asked weakly. He turned his head, his forehead suddenly resting against Cassander's temple. He couldn't turn his head any further though. Instead he looked at the muddied trail, which had many bends, and many hills, and managed to make an 'oh' sound. Cassander felt his cheek for a moment, and determined the fever was rising. Hephaestion's eyes were watering now, his eyes madly red, and his lips were now cracking.

"We have to take this path," Cassander told him as Hephaestion went back to resting his head on Cassander's shoulder. Hephaestion muttered something along the lines of 'no' but Cassander couldn't understand him. Instead he prayed to the gods that he had cursed earlier and urged the horse to move forward. He put a hand on Hephaestion's back and steadied him as they began down a hill. Already the horse was objecting, and sliding down the hill for the most part, but it managed to stay up. For the first time Cassander wished that Alexander would find them, whether or not it meant his death.

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"Alexander," Cleitus called out. "This is insanity. You are likely to kill yourself before finding Hephaestion!"

Alexander wasn't listening though. Bucephalus had seen mud before in his life. The stallion carefully placed his feet as he began down the slope of the hill. He made sure that if he saw a rock he'd place his foot there. Alexander put a hand on his neck, knowing the horse was the smartest animal he knew. He did not doubt him. Alexander glanced up again when they were at the bottom of the hill. After a moment he urged Bucephalus further up the hill.

He didn't care how hard this was going to be. He had to find Hephaestion, no matter what it took. He knew that he'd done him wrong. He'd neglected him, hit him, and done so many other things. It wasn't all the fever. He'd neglected him long before that. But the harsh words that had come between them, out of fever or not, were words that would haunt the both of them. Hephaestion needed an explanation, and if he still wanted to leave, Alexander would let him. No -that was a lie. He wouldn't let Hephaestion simply leave him. He couldn't let him leave. He wanted him more than anything in the world, for to him, he was the world. There was nothing without Hephaestion.

"Alexander," he thought he heard Hephaestion call out. Immediately he turned, and in a furry looked around the woods. He could see nothing though. Then he felt a pain in his head. No, not reality, but a memory of Hephaestion's voice uttering his name. There was still poison in him, he knew, but he didn't have the time to rest. He needed to find Hephaestion.

Alexander let Bucephalus take his time. He knew that rushing him would only hurt them both. Alexander knew Hephaestion, just as well as he knew himself. Hephaestion would have insisted on using this path. At least for some time. It would be easy for the wind, other horses, other travelers, and the rain to wipe away the tracks they could have left. Then, eventually, once further into the covering of the lands he would begin to make his own path. Hephaestion was wise, and could disappear when he wanted to. That was why Alexander liked to send him for supplies, other than to protect him, but because he knew that if anything happened Hephaestion could get away without being seen.

He thought of Hephaestion, of what he'd done to him before he'd left. First, he'd hit him in a rage that he shouldn't have had. Hephaestion's disappointment in him was expected, and had reason. He should never have touched him. Yet it hadn't stopped there. He'd refused to let him leave, sent guards after them, which had led to another problem. Cassander had killed a Persian and now the Persians were angry with him, as were the Macedonians, for a renegade Persian had slashed a deep gash upon Hephaestion's arm. Both Cassander and Hephaestion had then been knocked unconscious. It was a horror to imagine what had happened next.

He'd refused to let any medic tend to Hephaestion's arm, leaving him to bleed, even if he left him to his death. While Hephaestion had likely wreathed in agony, bleeding, he had been in the stockades. He'd been beating Cassander, cutting him, breaking him in any way that he could. It was disgusting to think about. He knew that Cassander would never forgive him. He did not deserve such though. But, he wanted it, and would accept it if Cassander one day many years from now forgave him. Over all, he wanted Hephaestion to hear him out, and forgive him. He wanted him back in his arms. Without him, he was nothing. His myth was nothing.

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Cassander knew that the horse was going to go no further. He cursed at the gods again. He hated each and every one of them. They were all tyrants that just sat on Olympus and watched the sufferings of men. He cursed them several more times, holding Hephaestion all the while, crying into his hair.

"What is it," Hephaestion whispered after some time. He hadn't heard most of his cursing. But he'd heard the last curse. He opened his eyes, felt the stinging sensations of the air hitting him, and tried to pull his head away. He felt too weak to move though. He felt like sleeping. But what had be been doing for all this time? And where were they now? Why was he on Cassander's horse?

"Beloved," Cassander said as he rubbed his back delicately. "I think that by the end of this journey you are going to hate me."

"Why?"

"Because," Cassander said as he kicked the horse as hard as he could. It whinnied loudly in protest before sliding forward. It was hardest for the horse to climb up the hill, but it managed to climb yet another one. "I'm taking you back to Babylon."

"What, why," Hephaestion immediately protested. Once again he tried to pull his head up. He was still too weak to move though. Why was that? Then he remembered Cassander's warning from in the cave. Suddenly it all made sense. They had to go back because he'd been foolish, and hadn't washed the wound enough, and now was ill. "No, Cassander, we can't go back. If we go back he'll kill us both. I can't let that happen."

"Don't worry," Cassander said in all seriousness. "He won't kill you."

"Cassander!"

Cassander only laughed. He continued to rub Hephaestion's back. The horse tried to stop again, pulling hard this time. It was hard for Cassander to hold Hephaestion and the reins at the same time though. Suddenly the horse flared its nostrils and let out a frightened snort. Cassander began to look around. The horse sensed something in the woods. Cassander continued to hold Hephaestion but found himself searching every area he could see. He questioned even the shadows. They sky was still darkened, the clouds threatening to open once more, and Cassander knew that it would be the perfect time for brigands to attack off guard pilgrims. He wasn't unprepared though. He reached for the dagger that was now at his side, which Bagoas had packed for him, and gripped the butt with his hand. His knuckles gripped the gold so tightly they were white. The horse then snorted again, eyes wide, and it began to search around as well.

"Hephaestion," a voice screamed. Cassander relaxed his grip on the dagger, but did not let go. He knew who it was. He could recognize Alexander's alarmed voice anywhere. Even Hephaestion tried to lift his head. But he managed only to moan and lean more against Cassander. He put a hand on Cassander's back and held him, still vowing to protect Cassander from the madness of Alexander. "Hephaestion!"

"Alexander," Cassander called out. Hephaestion only tightened his hold on him. He finally lifted his head and looked at Cassander, who had turned his head to look at him. Cassander leaned down, kissing Hephaestion lightly. He then spoke softly, only to him. "Do you remember the tale of Pygmalion?"

"Yes."

"Do you remember how he molded the perfect woman out of clay? And she was to be his, for they were to be as one?"

"Yes," Hephaestion said. Cassander felt him tremble, and wondered if the tears pouring from his eyes were from the pain he felt, or if he was crying for another reason. Cassander continued to hold him tightly, but glanced up to see if he could see Alexander.

"The gods made you for Alexander," Cassander whispered to him. "He has the powers to keep you well, and I can't. That is why I have to give you back to him, if he kills me, because I need you to live. I can't protect you out here, like I wanted to. Hephaestion, do you understand?"

"Don't leave me," Hephaestion said as he brought his lips to Cassander's. He initiated the kiss but it was Cassander that kissed him as if it was his last moment to live. He took him wholly on his mouth, took all of Hephaestion in, and sucked lightly at his lower lip. He then broke away when he heard another scream from Alexander. As the sound reached them the skies began to pour again. Hephaestion fell back against Cassander, his body weakened.

"I'm never going to leave you," Cassander said as he forced the horse to step forward more. The cold rain was soaking him, chilling him. But it was Hephaestion that was soon shivering. He shook terribly and Cassander tried to hold him tighter to him, willing him to steal the warmth of his body.

"Hephaestion," Alexander screamed out from somewhere close, but still far off.

"Alexander!"

"Cassander?"

"Alexander where are you?" Cassander didn't wait for an answer. He tried to move the horse in the way that he wanted. But the horse screamed terribly and pulled back at the bit. Cassander cursed, but then heard the sound of another horse, no doubt Bucephalus. The mare snorted and then turned her head, and her body, and began to move in the opposite direction. She was going towards another horse, for she would feel safer, and she was trained to follow other horses.

"Cassander! Hephaestion!"

"Alexander!"

Finally he saw something. Cassander saw a black blur, with a rider. It was Alexander. His horse moved forward, sliding in the wet earth, but now didn't mind it so much. She wanted to be with the other horse. Hephaestion still shivered as Cassander held him. Within a second Alexander was at Cassander's side. He looked down at Hephaestion and pulled a thick blanket from his back and put it over Hephaestion. He then looked at Cassander.

"Cassander…"

"Just get him back to Babylon," Cassander said as he passed Hephaestion to Alexander. Hephaestion didn't even notice. He was swirling in a black abyss, unable to awaken. He could hear things every now and then, but for the most part, he just felt cold. He knew that he shivered, knew that his arm ached, but knew nothing else. He didn't even hear Cassander and Alexander speaking.

"What about you," Alexander asked as the rain poured over them both. Alexander seemed different. He was suddenly worried for Cassander, which the other did not understand. "Cassander, come back. I wasn't myself."

"I don't care. I care only about Hephaestion."

Alexander took Hephaestion's arm and looked at it. It was infected, but not terribly. They would have to open the wound, flush it with alcohol, and then it would have to be stitched again. Otherwise it wasn't that bad. Alexander lifted one of Hephaestion's eyelids. He felt his heart stop. He looked up at Cassander.

"It's not the infection," Alexander said loudly. "He's been poisoned."