Not but a Name
Chapter Four
A young man, soon to be proclaimed the son of a god, heaved a big sigh of breath upon seeing his mother in her crimson dress. Abstracted against all the white, she stood out worse than a beggar in a marketplace. Although he would never admit it to save his life, Alexander loved her more than he even knew himself. But what was this, a different servant than the one Phillip assigned standing by her side? He inwardly smiled; his mother did love a few people more than she would admit too. The wedding speech had not even yet begun and the games would not follow after all too soon. This was going to be a long day for Olympias, Alexander sighed once more.
"What is it that troubles you, Alexander?" A deep voice with concern rung from behind him. The prince let out a small breath of relief upon hearing his father Phillip's voice. The king had "forgiven" Alexander publicly and so there they were once more, father and son. At least, that's what they were supposed to assume. His mother had always claimed that he was the son of Zeus, but Alexander had always thought of it as a lie. None the less, he stood there with his father and silently replied, "Nothing, my king. I was merely wondering if perhaps we should mount upon our horses and ride to make a more noticeable appearance." At this Phillip laughed, "My son, you never cease to amuse me. How you let something so trivial get into your core is beyond my understanding." Another deep, long laugh erupted from within his belly and Alexander smiled somewhat unwillingly. Finally Phillip began to talk again, "Yes, my son. Truth lies within your words. We will have Irena bring us our horses and shall ride them to the coliseum. Come, let us summon her and order her to do so." With a nod and a trudging pace, Alexander did as he was told and followed his father. And as they walked on, with every step he took, he could not help but wonder what it was that his beloved Hephaistion had wanted to say.
(Not but a Name: Olympias)
The queen who was to be executed internally battled tears and sneered at the statue of Phillip that was being raised outside the coliseum. With extreme grace, she turned to Aliyah, the girl she now considered a daughter in replacement for Cleopatra and laughed dryly, "A thirteenth god? My poor Phillip, he's lost his mind." Aliyah, whom had grown very fond of Olympias through the short amount of time they'd had together smiled and nodded respectfully; as she knew she was do to in public. Had they been alone, she would have laughed along with her.
Olympias sauntered up to Eurydice and sneered, "I hope the prince is enjoying the spectacle as much as our regent." Her uncle flinched at the daggers that she was glaring at him but remained silent as his niece answered lazily, "He's very tired." At this the older woman smirked and exhaled loudly in a gesture of hatred. Aliyah didn't blame her. All three women were competing for Phillip. Well, the two oldest ones were at least. But none of the three women had any idea of the tragedy that was about to strike upon them as they went their own ways.
Olympias watched the entrance of the coliseum with an air about her that fooled everyone but her son and her slave. The only two that had really had the chance to look inside her. The slave saw everything Olympias did and it had dawned on her that if she were the queen, she would be the same. Her son Alexander however, was not a lady and so he did not know how much she bled in secret. As the man to be wed made his speech about the wedding, Aliyah reached for Olympias and held her hand reassuringly. And as she did, the first queen knew that she was not losing anything at all.
"I have been blessed by the gods," the words rang, "to be wed to such a beautiful bride." Aliyah herself almost began to cry. Not for the kindness of his words, but for the pain they wrought. Aliyah could not imagine losing a daughter and a brother at once like this, but she knew the pain of losing her parents who were her only support; which sadly was almost exactly the same thing.
(Not but a Name: Alexander)
"Ah, what a man. What words he speaks. Poor fool, I would hate to see him speak through wine." Alexander watched his father criticize the man who was marrying his own daughter. Along with the sick feeling arising in his stomach, a raging anger twisted knots inside the prince. A rage which tore him up inside like a vicious beast whose pulse only beat to torture Alexander. It was irritated at Phillip for the betrayal that he had set up against his mother. The ghastly hot fog choking his heart grew thicker as he looked upon the statue of Phillip being raised. It was then that Alexander realized just how important Phillip was to Macedonia and Greece.
Phillip had already dismissed the royal guard from the stadium and a new man laughed, "No guards, your majesty? In all this crowd? There are Greeks all over the place." As Olympias' brother finished speaking a roar erupted from the crowd and Phillip embraced a man that Alexander knew not laughing, "Cleitus, my Cleitus." He had dark greasy hair that was only but a tiny bit longer than Alexander's golden locks. A plain golden band pressed his hair to his head and complimented his dark black eyes. Being a loving son, Alexander quirked a brow as the king smiled warmly at the new man.
This man was not any older than twenty six and had a piercing glare that would cut through sixty men a second if looks could kill. But luckily they couldn't and Alexander returned the glare with one of his own. Phillip, finally picking up on the tension introduced them, "This man you can always trust, Alexander. Treat him as you would me, he'll guard your back for you." The prince internally sighed, but he did not let his unrelenting glare falter. At this Cleitus smiled softly and nodded. Perhaps he wasn't so bad. After all, Alexander really had known him all his life… he just couldn't seem to remember him much.
Then the king of Macedonia tossed an arm around Cleitus and paced a few steps with him, "My people are guard enough today. Let these Greeks see for themselves how I can walk through my people. Then let them call me tyrant. Bring the main guard in after my main entry only. Cleitus, make sure the wine flows steady all day. I want them to like me." The poor prince finally saw how uncertain and nervous his father actually was. Phillip had trusted Cleitus to show him his insecurity in front of Alexander, which was an unwise move on his part. Cleitus gave a curt nod before leaving the two alone before Phillip made his grand appearance.
Noticing the shadow behind him that was his son, the king quirked a brow, "Weren't you told? I go in alone. Follow with the main guard, go on! Go on!" Phillip gave the prince some instructions and turned to walk into the stadium but was stopped by the hand laid upon his arm, "Father, its best that I go with you." By this time, the head of the guard had finished walking by the entrance with blood slowly seeping down to the ground with every step he took and every look he sent. Now, only Alexander's mother and her red dress were visible. Phillip did not see the guard and his aurora of dread and anticipation. Still, if he had, he would have known not to go in alone. But being prideful he hissed at his concerned and loving son, "You want the world to see you're my successor? Is that what she wants?"
Caught completely off guard by the burn of the question and bitterness in his father's voice, the prince cringed. But Phillip did not stop there, "Don't act so hurt, Alexander. Be a man." Alexander sighed and looked up hoping that he was just being paranoid, but still he did not leave his king's side. Hissing at his own son, the king shamed himself, "You count yourself lucky that you were here at all today! After your public display." Once more the prince cringed but did not leave his father's side. This enraged Phillip all the more, "By Herakles, by Zeus, by all the gods, obey me this once!" Alexander admitted defeat by standing back, "Have courage, father. And go on your way rejoicing that at each step you may recall your valor."
This stunned the old warrior king of Macedonia. In fact, it stunned him so much that he did not know how to respond to such praise. He always had censured Alexander so much for loving his mother, but internally he knew that Olympias was no threat to Alexander's loyalty to him. Why he abused his true son's love so was a mystery. Poor Phillip had been blinded from all the glory that dreaming brings forth. Deciding that patting the prince on the shoulder was a good enough thank you, Phillip moved on into the coliseum.
The sun was bright and magnificent, representing all the honor and glory that Phillip vainly expected from the gods. Outstretching his arms widely as a voice rang out loudly; Phillip could not help but wonder if perhaps this was not such a good idea after all. Still, he had been announced, and he could not call in his guards now. The voice cried out, "And now our beloved King Phillip! In whose honor these wedding games begin!" Applause instantaneously followed, praising the king of now not only Macedonia, but Greece as well. Soaking in the glory as a laboring slave would soak in the sun pausing for a moment; Phillip had no idea that soon his most trusted guard would betray him. Looking forward for the first time since his entrance, the king noticed that the main guard was standing not but two inches in front of his face. Puzzled by his disobedience and defiance of his orders, Phillip was caught off guard. He began to exclaim in his great confusion, "Pausanias, I told you…" Sadly, Phillip did not have the chance to finish his last sentence as Pausanias forcefully pressed his lips against his king's and gripped his strong arms around the older man. The crowd still cheered, but did not know that the sound erupting from their hands was only pushing the adrenaline through the veins of the assassin. No one could have foreseen Pausanias spit upon Phillip's face and with rage, stab him deeply twice.
Still in shock of his guard's disobedience, Phillip cried out in pain and shock before giving his body out and falling to the stony ground. Immediately Alexander was leaning over him bawling, and as he looked beyond his son's face, Phillip had a rather depressing last thought, one sad in nature and drenched in regret for having hurt his son so many times. As Phillip of Macedonia lay there dying in Alexander's arms, he could not help but wonder before letting go, "Perhaps I should have listened to my son." With that, he coughed out his last breath and let his body go limp as his soul sunk down into Hades.
The prince clung to his dead father and cradled his head in his hands before Cleitus and the others spilled into the main entrance of the stadium and tried to pry Alexander away. It was only until then that he let Phillip's head fall to the ground and join with the rest of his lifeless corpse. Pandemonium and chaos was rampant as the precipitants of the crowd leapt up from their stone seats and ran. Shouting and sobbing was heard, "He murdered out king!" Bounded one voice. "After him!" Cried another. Foreign voices were everywhere, and yet Alexander could not hear anything else besides the sound of his father's last breath echoing within his mind.
(Not but a Name: Olympias)
The first queen squeezed Aliyah's hand desperately as she struggled to stifle the look of pain, shock and overall stress that was threatening to surface. All her life, Olympias had been taught to never show her emotions as a queen, and she knew how important it was to do so. However, she could not help but grasp her servant's hand firmly and let out a tiny gasp. The boy in her window had alerted King Darius who had paid Pausanias. It was sad, she thought, how golden coins could make a man so desperate and force him to lower himself to killing someone. She herself had known Pausanias, and though she had not trusted him, she certainly would not have expected him to assassinate her husband who was now sprawled cold on the ground with his golden toga stained with his blood. Parmenion and Cleitus were the first two to join Alexander and rush to the king's side. Hephaistion was immediately next to Alexander and Philotas looked as though he was going to die from the shock.
Meanwhile, a group of loyalists and soldiers to the king of Macedonia had rushed after Pausanias and were most likely stabbing him repeatedly with no mercy. Revenge was what they wanted for such betrayal, but she knew that they would never be satisfied. From that moment on to the rest of its years, the world would mourn for Phillip of Macedonia. And yet, in all the craziness that was running around, a triumphant and jovial voice rang out into the stadium; and Olympias was surprised to realize that it was Hephaistion's. "THE KING LIVES!" He yelled, "ALEXANDER, SON OF PHILLIP! MAY THE GODS BLESS THE KING!" The queen nodded in approval at her son as he, covered in his father's blood, had the crown shoved tightly upon his head. Hephaistion smiled at his dear Alexander, "You're king now! You're king!" Ptolemy, the other person to crown Alexander, followed Olympias' example and held his emotion inside and simply supported the newly appointed king, for the gods knew he would need it. "MAY THE GODS BLESS ALEXANDER!" Soon the crowd was rejoicing once more, clapping and cheering for their new king. Friends and strangers all started to call out his name. And even though his life had just been redeemed, Alexander looked as though he could not be any more miserable.