I, Too Am Alexander

by Norrsken

Alexander's drinking habits leads to some very serious complications. Hephaestion will have to use all his diplomatic and fighting skills to keep the reckless King out of harm's way.

5. Struggle for Power

TEMPLATE:

Title: FIC: I, Too Am Alexander ( 5 / WIP )

Author: NorthernLight

Category: Love/Friendship/Adventure story. Alternate History.

Pairing: Alexander&Hephaestion

Date: October 2005.

Archive: Archivated in the ATG Slash&Fanfic Yahoo Groups.

Feedback: Yes, all kinds, on or off list, as you please. Archive: Yes, if you like, but please tell me.

Disclaimer: I don't own them. Not for gain - my work is for my deep interest in Alexander and Hephaestion, their time and adventures.

Rating: R Beta: Denise. Many thanks for good discussions and suggestions.

Summary : After resting in Maracanda Alexander takes his army further into the East. They come to the Paradise of Nysa and decide to have a feast under the starlit sky. With everyone senseless from heavy drinking and carnal pleasure Alexander is kidnapped by a band of cunning mountain bandits and taken into captivity at the inaccessible Rock of Chorienes. Hephaestion has to use all his diplomacy and fighting skills to save him.

Warnings: This is AR, very close to but not "real" history. Alexander besieged the Rock of Chorienes but was of course never imprisoned there. Angst, violence, quarrels and adversities. Some really hard fighting in this chapter. Miracle cures I wished I had the exact recipes for but I don't!

Historical note: The Rock of Chorienes is a real place, being besieged by Alexander and his army on his way to India.

Dedication: To Denise. Thanks to your excellent and positive fic challenge about Alexander being kidnapped and Hephaestion taking over the army for a daring and dangerous rescue operation.

I, Too Am Alexander Part V

Rock Of Chorienes, 327 BC

Alexander sat on his hard and uncomfortable cot, looking at a bowl of meager gruel. It was simmering in a grayish yellow color and looked most unappetizing. None the less, it was the best food he had been served for several days and he had to eat to survive! Lifting the bowl he started to gulp it down, almost choking upon every distasteful sip. His hands were trembling and awkward with cold and cruel handcuffs with restraining chains tearing at his wrists. He washed the horrid meal down with cold mountain water, wishing it were mulled red wine or, better still, strong brandy.

Afterwards, he got up on unsteady legs, walking the few steps the constraining foot and chain shackles allowed him. Chains were rattling with an unnerving sound as he stretched his neck, trying to watch the sky through the barred window. The stone wall was three feet thick and he had great difficulties to see anything at all. Today he looked upon bright azure blue skies, filled with light feathery clouds. He dearly wanted to be out there, riding Bucephalus in front of his invincible army with Hephaestion close at his side. Where were his faithful friends and Companions now? They surely must be on their way, thinking of some brave and gallant plans to rescue him!

Nysa, 327 BC

Mock Treasure

Hephaestion and Cleitus were lying together under some thorny bushes, feeling the warmth of the afternoon sun seeping through the foliage. The wild ivy embraced them with tender but ornery tendrils, pestering them with itchy leaves. They couldn't brush them aside, couldn't even move. Their vigilant watch for the mock treasure was paying off at last. A band of rugged mountain bandits were closing in upon the ten coffers in the glen. When they saw the treasure waiting they gave up shouts of great joy and expectations. They quickly got off their small, rugged horses and pried the coffers open. At first they seemed satisfied enough with the gold and jewels at the top of the sacs containing only metal pieces similar to golden coins and silver drachmas and the bricks painted in glittering gold and silver color. The Nyseans had been most helpful in staging this clever deception. One of the bandits came forward and watched the treasure closely. He was an old man with long gray hair and beard, his clear and clever yellow eyes, deep set under a wrinkled brow. If he hadn't been one of their enemies, they would have found him most venerable - now his actions were only ominous. He took one of the sacs and opened it with a forceful ripping with his calloused hands. Then he bit into several of the mock coins, becoming more and more disappointed for every bite he took. At last, he forcefully threw the satchel to the ground and called out to his fellow culprits:

" This is no King's ransom! They have filled the coffers with mock treasure. Do they think we are daft enough to bee fooled by such a simple ruse? A curse upon them!"

He stamped the ground with a heavy, boot clad foot, calling out loud, right into the bushes:

" You there! I know you are listening! You have seen the last of your precious King Alexander. If he's not worth more to you than this mock treasure we'll not let him live much longer!"

He then turned his back on the coffers, leaping upon his rugged little horse with the vigor of a much younger man. The other bandits collected the valuables in one coffer and bound it tightly to one of their horses before they rode away, leaving clouds of yellow fog behind them. Macedonian scouts were following out of sight, without their knowledge.

Struggle For Power

Hephaestion rose from his uncomfortable position in the thorny bushes, dragging Cleitus up with him. He was swearing and cursing with pent up anger.

"Eumenes again! That fellow is truly mean. I told him to put enough real treasure on top of each coffer to really deceive those bandits. His stinginess got the best of him - as usual. "

Cleitus tried to calm him down:

" Didn't I tell you we should have done it ourselves! But - you were too busy sharpening your sword and packing for the rescue party. Now we really are in a fine fix. How on earth will we get the King back?"

Heavy steps made the ground shake. An angry voice filled the warm summer air:

"Hephaestion! You and your fabled diplomacy! Now we are in really serious trouble. If only I had been in charge all would have gone smoothly along! And - this calamity has been brought upon us because of your insatiable lusts. Had you but been able to leave the King alone, it would never have happened!"

Craterus and his vicious tongue, always finding faults, always resenting. Hephaestion had suppressed his anger for many years, his respect for Alexander the only thing holding him back. Now, with the king sadly away, he let loose all his feelings of hard and bitter resentment. The dark demons hidden deep inside rose to the surface at long last. He brandished his sword with lightning swiftness, screaming out loud:

"You! Always hating me, scolding me, being mean and envious, telling lies in the dark behind my back. Now you must face me like a man! "

"I'm not afraid of you - and I haven't said a thing behind your back that I haven't told you directly to your face Let's have at it! I'm the better warrior - the most able one to save our King!"

Craterus brandished his own sword. Cold steel was gleaming in the bright afternoon sun as the two combatants stalked each other like two ferocious animals, coming closer in circles of hatred and envy, turning into a bitter brew for a long time. Craterus was the first to lash out at his opponent, dealing a powerful blow from the side. Hephaestion avoided it narrowly and swords clashed with the ominous ringing sound of steel against steel. Soon they were dancing around, slashing, parrying, dealing powerful blows and strokes in an interminable struggle. The air around them was brimming with bitter hatred and resentment, a brew so thick one could have sliced it into pieces with an axe or knife. All the soldiers heard the awful din of steel against steel and came running to see what was amiss. They were so astounded at the sight of the bitter fight that no one took sides, they just stood there right by, hands at their sides, mouths gaping, eyes wide with fear and anxiety.

Eumenes came running with the others, asking with a worried look at the terrible fight:

"Cleitus! What is all this about? They shouldn't behave like that just now. The King needs us unified to come to his rescue!"

He received no verbal answer, just a resolute blow right at his chin, felling him straight backwards. He ended up sitting in one of the thorny bushes, gently massaging his tender chin, feeling like all the teeth in his lower jaw was about to fall out.

"Why did you do that to me? I did as you told me with the treasure, trying to save as much as I could..."

"Saving...SAVING, you tell me, you stingy moron! You are far to mean for your own good! The bandits found out your "saving" far too easy. Now our Alexander is in mortal peril because of it - and the two men most able to rescue him are trying to kill each other. Your clever savings have cost us dear indeed!"

Eumenes hid his face in his hands, feeling hot tears of shame and sorrow seeping through the stingy grip of his calculating fingers. He liked his position as King Alexander's Secretary and really thought he had done his very best with the treasure coffers. Now he had to learn the hard way the risks of being penny-wise and pound-foolish.

General Cleitus watched the depressing sights. The Secretary of State was filled with deep remorse, sitting in a sorrowful heap in a thorny rose bush, the King's Right Hand was locked into mortal combat with his Supreme General - and their whole army was standing by in utter shock and amazement. The old General exclaimed in complete desperation:

"Oh my poor King Alexander! With such friends you don't need any enemies!"

A small, nimble hand patted the old general's tense shoulder. He looked up on Bagoas beautiful face, filled with tears.

"General. You must stop this insanity! We simply cannot let this brutal giant kill the King's dearest friend. "

"No, we cannot, little one - but you know well this had to happen! There has been bad blood between those two for many a year. I'll have to wait until they get tired, then I'll try to take them apart. A curse on it! This fight couldn't have occurred more inconveniently!"

The bitter sword fight was going on and on and on... Craterus was by far the bigger and stronger - but Hephaestion countered with supreme tactics and agility, cleverly parrying and avoiding his opponent's violent blows and slashes. He received several strokes and cuts, none of them serious, and he gave back as good as he got, dealing his enormous adversary some sharp stabs and cuts. They were so engulfed in their mutual hatred and hard fighting that they didn't feel any pain whatsoever but their horrified spectators cringed and wailed at the brutal blows and slashes. Between the hard blows and slashes, the both combatants hurled the most horrible insults at each other, dragging up all their resentments and misbehaviors until they were far too tired to scream and yell any more. The Macedonian army had never before heard such bad language, not in their worst barrack brawls, not even when they all were deepest down in their cups.

The afternoon went by, the bright sun wandering over the sky, deeper and deeper down in the west. Its bright golden rays were replaced by a crimson tide, washing over the bitter enemies like all the blood being shed in previous battles against their enemies. They were both very tired now, stumbling around with faltering steps and leaps, their swords being too heavy to lift, their arms and shoulders worn out by dealing so many murderous blows, their hands loosening their grips on the lethal weapons. Darkness fell, the sun setting in a sea of blood red and glaring orange clouds in the west. The fighting men couldn't see properly, couldn't even set their feet right any more. Dropping their swords to the ground from sheer fatigue they felt their legs giving way under them, supporting each other with arms locked in an endless wrestling game. They fell to the ground, wriggling around in the emerald green grass, over tufts of thyme and lavender, ending up in some thorny rose bushes close to the Secretary. Hephaestion locked his right arm in a powerful grip around Craterus' sinewy neck - but the giant General defended himself by dragging Hephaestion's left arm forcefully behind his back.

"Yield to me -or I'll surely strangle you and get rid of your brutish scorn and hard words forever!"

"No, never! Yield to me - or I'll break your arm so badly you'll never be able to embrace your royal lover anymore!"

Craterus face was turning into an unhealthy bluish pallor. Hephaestion's left shoulder was creaking ominously. No one dared to interfere. All were in shock by seeing such mutual hatred, such bitter and obstinate fighting. The combatants never fought any Persians with such violence and resentment - not even at the bloody Hell on Earth at Gaugamela. Suddenly, the Secretary awoke from his sad remorse. He threw himself at Craterus' back, trying to tear him away from his prey.

"Let go off him! You'll tear him into pieces and that won't do! I don't like him - but I want him whole and sound to have someone to blame for all blunders of administration!"

General Cleitus rose from his depressive mode and got hold of Hephaestion, forcefully prying his strong right arm from Craterus throat, loosening his strangling grip.

"Enough is enough, my friend! Alexander needs you both, sound and alive! And - I know you don't like the General Craterus, but he surely is one of my very best friends here around. I won't let you strangle him before my very eyes!"

The fierce adversaries were completely exhausted by now and let themselves be parted, but most unwillingly. They were sitting amongst the fragrant flowers, glaring at each other in the last crimson rays of the setting sun. Craterus held one hand to his throat, breathing with great difficulty, struggling for every gulp of air. Hephaestion held on to his left shoulder, his arm hanging limp at his side, feeling the most horrible and sickening pain traveling all the way down into his hand and all the way up to his head. He rose with great difficulty, and when he was standing and swaying to and fro he pointed at his detractor.

"You there! You will never slander me any more - and now you'll give me a free hand in how we rescue Alexander!"

Craterus tried to speak but he was totally mute, his windpipe almost crushed by his opponent's merciless wrestling grip. He struggled for breath but was now totally unable to get any life giving air. Hephaestion saw with horror how the face of his worst detractor turned into an uncanny grayish blue and he fell backward into the rose bushes, without any vital signs. Cleitus rushed to Craterus and begun to shake him violently, screaming out loud:

"Oh, ye Gods! You have killed him. Doctor Philip! Come here immediately!"

The good doctor was near at hand, knowing his services soon would be needed. He helped Cleitus unlace Craterus' iron collar and corselet and together they turned the giant on his side. Fortunately, these simple measures were helpful and the patient was soon drawing after breath, although with great pain and effort. He was still alive to fight another day. Hephaestion mumbled a thankful prayer to the Gods of War and Healing. Doctor Philip recommended adamantly:

"You must carry him to his tent and put him to bed. I'll come soon and tend to his cuts and bruises and give him something that helps him to breathe easier. "

The giant general opened his eyes and tried to rise, still wanting to hurl himself upon Hephaestion. His opponent was still standing and prepared to defend himself, rising his good right arm to take another merciless wrestling grip. Doctor Philip had to go between them with stern reproach:

"You two ought to be glad to be alive! How can you behave so totally without common sense, trying to kill one another over your petty rivalries! King Alexander choose you to share the High Command not only for brutal fighting abilities but because of your intelligence and diplomacy. We haven't seen much of that today! Now you must calm down and rest in your tents. Unfortunately it'll take some days before you are able to set out to rescue King Alexander!"

After The Fight

Cleitus saw to it that Craterus' servants carried him to his tent to take care of him inside. He then came to Hephaestion. The younger man was barely able to stand, being overwhelmed by severe pain and violent emotions. The old general put his arm around his shoulders, giving him strong and tender support.

"How are you, my friend? You look very pale..."

"Yes. My arm is hurting something awful. I think I'm going to be sick..."

"No. Not here, in front of the whole army! I'll help you. Just lean upon me now. Cleitus had to drag him to the shelter of some friendly trees. There he immediately doubled up and emptied his stomach amongst the wild ivy and fragrant flowers. Cleitus held him tenderly, trying not to hurt his torn shoulder. He looked worriedly at the younger man. Hephaestion had turned into an uncanny green pallor, cold sweat running from his brow and all over and his auburn hair was damp and lusterless. When the sickness at last left him he looked up at the general, his eyes filled with deep pain:

"Thanks for helping me out. I'm ashamed of myself. Behaving like this when Alexander needs me the most!"

"Don't think of it. There is a limit to what a man can take of slander and malice! You'll feel better soon. The rescue party is ready for setting out first thing in the morning...Hephaestion?"

The younger man had suddenly lost consciousness and was hanging limply in his arms. Cleitus lifted him from the ground and carried him out of the grove, yelling out loud for the doctor's services once more. Doctor Philip came running towards them, asking worriedly:

" Cleitus! What's the matter with him? He was looking well enough after the fight. "

"Yes, but he told me that his arm was hurting badly and that he was going to be sick. I had to help him into the forest. He passed out after vomiting for a long time. "

"Let's take him to his tent and have a look at him. I hope it isn't something serious. "

Cleitus carried Hephaestion to his tent. The good doctor followed, together with Bagoas. They put their dear patient to rest on his fur clad army cot, undressing him, worriedly assessing all his injuries. There was not a part of his body that wasn't bruised or bloodied, but nothing looked serious, nothing but the horrible black swelling all around his left shoulder. The doctor put his hands around it, trying to detect eventual tears and fractures. The patient moaned and groaned a bit , trying to tear of the doctor's hands, but he didn't wake up. Cleitus asked with deep concern:

"How is he, doctor? That shoulder looks really bad..."

"Yes, but fortunately it's not as bad as it seems. It's not broken or dislocated, only badly torn and sprained. I'll put on some ointment and bandage it, and then he'll have to keep it out of use for several weeks. "

Bagoas came running with two big stoppered jars, bearing the King's Seal.

"Doctor Philip, these jars might be helpful to you. One contains a wonderful healing ointment the King uses on bad wounds and injuries, the other is an universal medicine that cures all pain and sickness!"

"That looks like something we need right now. Give them to me!"

Bagoas helped the doctor see to Hephaestion. They washed him clean with water scented with lavender and rosemary and tended to all his cuts and bruises. At last the doctor anointed his left shoulder with the King's miraculous ointment. They looked curiously at the thick, yellow green paste. Its strong smell of camphor, mint, rosemary and several strange and costly healing herbs filled up the whole tent and made their patient regain consciousness. Hephaestion looked at them, his wonderful blue eyes glazed over by pain and bewilderment. He apparently didn't recognize them.

"Alexander! That surely hurts a lot - but it'll help soon. It always does!"

Hephaestion passed out once more, his head falling at the side on the gold embroidered sky blue pillow. Cleitus put his hand to his brow, sadly pointing out:

"Oh no. Now he is delirious. What am I to do? He is the one with the best wits here around! I cannot manage without his common sense!"

Doctor Philip told him reassuringly :

"Don't you worry. He'll have his senses back when he wakes up. There will be much pain and stiffness in that shoulder though. I don't think he'll have much use of it for several weeks. Now let me finish here for tonight. "

The doctor put on a thick bandage and bound the arm closely to the side of his patient. Hephaestion woke up once more, trying to avoid the painful procedures. The good doctor tried in vain to calm him down.

"Keep quiet, my friend. I'll soon let you rest peacefully. Bagoas! Bring me the King's universal medicine. I think it's time for it now. "

Doctor Philip unstoppered the jar, curiously putting his nose to it. Cleitus and Bagoas joined him. The old general couldn't hold back a smile of amusement.

"It's brandy, my friends! Strong brandy scented with wormwood and yarrow! No wonder he uses that jar so frequently! That's truly a cure for all ailments!"

"Yes. You are right. I'll give it to him mixed with some poppy juice. "

The doctor filled a cup with the strong brandy, mixed with the opiate, and then gave it to their dear patient. Hephaestion swallowed, at first reluctantly, but when he felt the familiar strong taste of brandy he smiled and gulped it down most willingly.

"Thanks, my Alexander. You always know what is the best in times of dire need. Maybe you should give some to my opponent, too. Perhaps he needs it better than I do. "

He closed his eyes and fell into a deep drug induced sleep. The doctor covered him with warm furs.

"Oh. It's merciful he has forgotten all his troubles for the time being. You must watch closely over him and see to it that he doesn't get up and hurt himself any worse. Dont worry if he sleeps on for many hours. He'll need it to recuperate. "

The good doctor left them alone with the patient. They were closely watched over by eight strong guards posted around the tent. Pollux and Peritas were helping out, sitting closely at the patient's bedside. Hephaestion slept peacefully and Bagoas soon slipped out of the tent. coming back with some mulled wine, hot broth, bread and slices of ham. They ate and drank in silence and then sat down to their nightly vigil. Bagoas spoke softly while he gently stroke over Hephaestion's brow and long auburn hair.

"I didn't know the General could show such fierce temper. He is always so calm and sensible in the company of the King. I'm quite impressed by his fighting abilities. All that brutal sword play going on for hours, and then almost strangling his opponent!

"Yes. There is much more to him than meets the eye. Alexander wouldn't have chosen him to protect his right side in battle if he hadn't possessed excellent fighting skills. I'm quite amazed that he managed to hold his own against Craterus for such a long time, though. I'm glad he didn't manage to strangle him. He would have been sorry for it afterward. A strange thing, what sheer hatred can do to the most calm and sensible of men!

"What a horrible day. That fight was the very worst I've ever seen! You Macedonians never cease to amaze me. Why can't you poison each other calmly and peacefully as they did at the Persian Court?"

"We do have capable poisoners in Macedon too - but Hephaestion has taken careful measures against it. All in the High Command always eat at the common table, from the same dishes, with wine from one great bowl in the middle. To poison one of us one has to poison us all - and since we all share the same food that will never happen! "

Bagoas shuddered, thinking that all men are the same, devious and dangerous in all places and countries. A cold draught blew through the tent flap, bringing a chorus of curious and ill willed whispers inside.

Miracle Cure

Some hours passed. Hephaestion was sleeping peacefully under his warm furs. Cleitus heard some ominous sounds outside. He had a bad feeling and rose, lifting the tent flap to peer out in the darkness. The air was brimming with anxiety and dissension. Not a single soul were in their own tents or asleep. Many had gathered around General Craterus' big tent, many more around General Hephaestion's tent. The whole army was divided into two great fractions, ready to fight each other. Things couldn't have been worse. Then Cleitus saw that some of the soldiers around the other tent were crying. Craterus' guards didn't stand in their usual, formal postures at the sides of the tent opening. They were looking inside, lifting the tent flap for everyone to see. He clearly heard someone audibly whisper:

"Doctor Philip is here - but not even his skills are enough...A curse upon this dark day! That man! Always bringing calamity and disaster. Now our dear friend is slowly dying because of his uncanny wrestling skills. "

Cassander! Slanderous as usual - but now there was a serious background to his evil words. Eumenes answered him with low and somber voice:

"I always knew he would do us some serious harm - but not in this terrible manner!"

Things were worse than expected. Macedon was in grave danger indeed. The old general felt the need of taking some immediate action. He told Bagoas:

"Pick up those jars with the King's miracle cures and follow me. Time is of the essence!"

"Yes, General - but we cannot leave the General Hephaestion like this. "

"Stefanos and Alexios can sit up with him - and no one passes those watchdogs! Now come with me! This is something we must do at once!"

When the faithful guards had taken their places at the patient's bedside they went outside. It was not a pleasant walk on the night side. The air was so thick with deep resentment one could have sliced it into blocks of bitter hatred. The old general pull his fur cloak closely around his shoulders while his small companion tried to hide himself under it. Bagoas had seldom felt such horror in his troubled life. It was the same ominous ambiance as before the Murder of King Darius. The whole camp was filled up with it and he feared for his very life. The crowd around Craterus' tent reluctantly parted for them. His faithful guards barely let them pass inside. They came upon a most sorrowful sight in the glow from the fire pan and some torches. The giant general was reclining on his army cot, halfway sitting up supported by soft cushions, deeply unconscious. His breath came with great difficulty and he was unnaturally pale, his face showing an unnatural blue gray pallor. His lips were dark blue, his nails almost black. Doctor Philip sat at his bedside, anxiously watching over him and trying to revive him with a jar of smelling salts. The whole tent was filled with its vapors, smelling strongly from camphor and mint. Cleitus asked with deep concern:

"How is he? "

"Can't you see that for yourself! I fear he is dying! I've tried everything - but the swelling in his throat won't go away. He has been like this for some hours now..."

"Let me try this out! It's the King's special remedies. The General Hephaestion told us to bring it if his opponent was in dire need. "

"Yes. I know of those. Well, you may try. It cannot make things worse!"

A murmur of amazement went through the closest audience and spread itself to the crowd outside. King Alexander's remedies and their miraculous effects were well known. Cleitus unstoppered the bottle and forcefully tore away the compress with healing herbs Doctor Philip had applied to his patient's throat. He then filled his calloused palm with the King's healing ointment and immersed it upon the hideous black swelling on Craterus' throat. At first nothing happened, and then a strange violet light came from the miracle ointment, together with the strong smell of camphor and healing herbs. Suddenly the giant General gave up an anguished scream, lashing out violently with a hoarse whisper:

"Alexander! Let go of me! I'm not so badly off that I'm in need of your precious ointments!"

Cleitus almost burst out into tears:

"I'm not Alexander, you big brute! You feel the smell of his healing ointment - and I'm so glad it is so effective. Here, have some of the cordial too. You look like you need it!"

He carefully closed the bottle with the healing ointment and unstoppered the other one, filling a bowl with the dark red liquor. He then cradled the other man's head in his left arm and helped him to take some gulps of the miracle medicine. Craterus swallowed with amazing ease and fell asleep shortly afterward. His breathing came much easier and his color was slowly returning to normal. He was still very pale but the uncanny blue shadows on his face, lips and nails was gone. The good doctor and all around thanked the Gods for the miracle the King's remedies had brought. It was as if Alexander still had been with them - but this violent fight between his two most trusted generals and its sad aftermath would never have occurred in the King's presence...

Cleitus and Bagoas returned to Hephaestion. He was soundly asleep, closely guarded by Stefanos and Alexios and both dogs. They sat down at his bedside, preparing for a long vigil.

Making Up

The two combatants slept soundly for almost three days, completely exhausted by their violent fighting and the strong remedies that had been administered to them. Doctor Philip and their faithful friends and guards were worried, thinking they might never wake up again. General Cleitus and Bagoas sat closely together, watching over Hephaestion. They had never liked one another before, but this unusual situation had brought them together in mutual care for someone dear to both of them. At the morning of the third day Hephaestion started to toss and turn on his army cot. He was worriedly asking for Alexander and they were barely able to hold him down. Soon he opened his wonderful blue eyes. At first they were filled with confusion and anxiety but they soon cleared up and he was able to recognize his friends. He asked them, his voice barely audible:

"What happened? How long have I been laid up like this?"

Doctor Philip explained the situation. He couldn't resist another lesson in morals and good manners.

"You and Craterus had a bad fight. You almost managed to strangle him. It's only because of the King's remedies he is alive today. He won't be able to roar any commands at our army for a very long time! And - you surely won't be able to do any riding or climbing for several weeks! You ought to be glad he didn't tear off your left arm. You have been behaving like naughty children - but you are men with dangerous weapons and fighting skills. Now you won't be able to ride out to rescue the King for a very long time indeed!"

"Calm yourself down, doctor Philip. Scolding me won't help us out at all! What's done is done. Now I'm both thirsty and hungry. Please give me some food and wine, and then I'll see to all our troubles. We have an important mission before us! "

Soon Hephaestion was sitting up, eating with a hearty appetite. Afterwards he tore off the bandages and looked curiously at his left shoulder. The horrible black bruises and the swelling were completely gone and he was able to raise his arm to its full range of moment, completely without pain!

"How strange. You told me my shoulder was badly damaged - and I clearly remember that awful pain and throbbing in my whole left arm before I got sick and passed out in the forest. Now it seems to be quite all right again! "

The good doctor, Cleitus and Bagoas were most amazed at how fast he had regained the use of his left arm and shoulder. The King's remedies had worked a true miracle upon his dearest friend!

Hephaestion rose from his bed, dressed and put on his corselet, arming himself to the teeth, donning his midnight blue cloak, rimmed with white fur. He then strode out in camp with Cleitus at his side and closely surrounded by his his eight faithful guards. Doctor Philip and Bagoas followed behind, carefully watching over their patient's miraculous recovery. The General Craterus came out from his tent, roaring at his men:

"Get all the horses and gear ready! We'll set out in no time to rescue the King! I'll lead you to that damn Rock of Chorienes! We'll get to the top of it, even if I'll have to throw us all up there!"

Doctor Philip looked at the giant general as if he had seen a ghost, and he said quietly to himself/"This simply cannot happen! Three days ago he couldn't even breathe, let alone talk. Now he is roaring along quite as usual. There must be something really miraculous with the King's remedies!"/

Hephaestion marched towards him, talking back at him:

"No. I'm the best climber and path finder here around. It's my business to lead the rescue party! My mistakes caused this calamity and it is I who must set things right again!"

Cleitus put his hand to his brow in desperation:

"Oh no. Now they are at it again!"

Both adversaries met in the middle of camp, fiercely glaring at each other. All around took several steps back, looking at them in sheer terror. The General Craterus was impressive with his black mane and fiery brown eyes, towering over all in his black armor and cloak, - but the General Hephaestion was looking simply wonderful in his polished, silvery armor and midnight blue cloak, his glossy auburn hair like a fine mantle over his shoulders and his clear blue eyes taking in them all with bright intelligence and deep concern. He was the calm and thoughtful Moon to King Alexander's fiery Sun, a true Leader of Men. To the great amazement of all, the generals embraced each other closely. Craterus patted the younger man's back and shoulders and generously admitted:

"Yes. For once you are right. You'll take the lead and I'll follow. Now let's get started! Time is of the essence! "

Hephaestion answered: "Yes, the King is in grave danger and we must do our best to rescue him as quickly as possible! I'm so glad I didn't manage to strangle you in my rage! Alexander needs the both of us whole and healthy - he has managed to show us that with the miracles his remedies has worked upon us! "

TBC