A/N - There is very little in the sources about what happened at Philip's wedding, so I'm using my own interpretation, some of which was inspired by Renault and Stone's movie.
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Chapter Four

This was perhaps the last time that Alexander and the King were in harmony with each other. From that pointon their relationship deteriorated at an alarming rate, assisted and motivated by Olympias.

I have tried for many years to look at her with a less than accusatory eye but I know I am rightin blameing her for so much that affected her son for the worse. She loved him – too much; she used him in her fight against her husband – too often; she managed and manipulated how he saw himself and those around him – incessantly. I hate her for all of that; hate what she has done to her son to weaken a being truly blessed by the gods who can only escape her mental abuse delivered non-stop during his childhood by drinking. It would be even worse if Alexander was not aware of it, with chilling clarity, himself. It's the reason he will never go home, never call her to him and certainly never let her anywhere near a child of his. To those who blame me for his not producing an heir before he left Macedon I say – you're wrong. Look to the mother, not the lover, for the person to blame.

In her defence I do not think Olympias ever considered herself a 'bad' mother: she genuinely believes she acted for her son's best interests against the machinations of the Macedonian court – she was Molossian after all, an outsider and I can identify with that. I merely state it became an obsession with her – she saw everything that Philip did as an affront and insult to her and a threat to her son, when it was nothing of the kind. No wonder Philip fell out of love with her and spent time with other wives, concubines and young men – they never questioned, screamed and clawed at him in jealous rages. And she was jealous, be assured of that. When Olympias loves she holds nothing back and expects the object of her love to reciprocate in kind; no one can live with such stifling, unrelenting need – not Philip, not Alexander – they both left her in the only ways they could.

Philip was no innocent in all this. He never understood the woman he had married and who had given him his only viable successor. It was not in his nature to do so – women were there to be soft, submissive and available and to give him sons. For everything else he looked to his male companions and lovers – it was the Theban way and most of his wives accepted it quietly. Not Olympias. It was this fighting spirit that she passed on to her son and, joined with his father's military ability, made him so invincible in so many respects. It also left him in a constant battle within himself to control these two warring aspects of his psyche only clear to a few of us. This was where I found my role in his life, to buffer him from the extremes of his own personality; to help him fight those ever present demons in his soul that could erupt into bouts of violent temper and uncontrolled irrational behaviour – witness the killing of Cleitus and his marriage to Roxanne.

All this I could usually temper to manageable proportions but not always. And I could not be there all the time, which left him alone surrounded by others who did not understand what was going on inside of him and cared even less. He was the King and their way to power and fulfilling their ambitions. No fault in that but few of them took the time to care about Alexander for his own sake. That was my job and I had few rivals for that part of the position of 'favourite' though I was accused fast enough of not doing my job when he lost control and they couldn't contain him.

But the reasons I had to leave him were for his benefit in other ways. He had found me indispensable in ensuring his army survived between battles, which was most of the time we were on the march. I had a natural flare for logistics, organisation and engineering so he trusted me to do this without his supervision, knew I could be trusted to do it accurately and with speed as he wanted. It is not heroic but I am proud of my work. Together we produced and controlled an army that was unstoppable and invincible to all – except to itself.

Philip had sent one of the Athenian captives to relate his terms to a defeated Athens. Demosthenes had whipped the city up into a frenzy before the battle of what a conquering barbarian Macedonian army would do to them – rape, pillage and burn. When Philip's terms were explained to them they were stunned into submission. All he asked for was their acceptance and recognition of his hegemony over all Greece and for that he promised he would not cross their borders. The captives were returned; the ashes of the thousand fallen also went home under an honour guard led by his son, Alexander. It was to be his first and only visit to the city of Pericles and Plato; I was returning to my birth place but it would be as new to me as to him.

Our hosts were obsequious to the point of being repulsive. The all conquering 'hero's' were offered anything and everything – jewels, clothing, art works, women and boys. Ptolemy met Thais here for the first time. I spent time with a courtesan named Ariadne and Alexander's was called, I believe, Arsinhoe – the boys we ignored. These womenwere a pleasant diversion; professional in their accomplishments, witty in their conversation, a credit to their profession. We enjoyed them; they enjoyed us as well-heeled clients always are and we promptly forgot each other as soon as the visit was over – except Ptolemy. He made arrangements for Thais to join him at Pella, much to Alexander's surprise and amusement.

During the day we visited the historical sites of the City – the Acropolis where Alexander sacrificed and then sat for a statue of himself to be placed there. We also went to Aristotle's old school, the Academy of Plato. Here we met Xenocrates and we talked to him for the best part of the day. I found him especially interesting and we started a correspondence then that lasted until his death years later.

When not accompanying my Prince I found time to call upon the respective families of my parents. Initially wary, I had not seen them since I was a babe and they might not be so happy that my father had left the City to serve Philip, I found them as pragmatic as my father and amused at how the citizens of their city were now fawning on them due to their relationship to a highly placed relation at the Macedonian Court. I found many new friends there and have kept in touch with them since. Ironically enough, years later, one of them acted for Demosthenes himself when asking me to use my influence with Alexander to 'go easy' on the old fool when he had gone too far finally in his attempts against my King. I did mention it to Alexander – we both laughed at the man's gall.

Having made our point that Macedon was now the power in the land and having behaved with the utmost decorum, at Alexander's insistence, to the surprise of some hard line Athenians we took our leave. I left my re-found family with regret, Ariadne with none. All in all, we headed for home in good spirits and the warm sense that we had fulfilled our mission faultlessly.

We met up with the King on his way back from the Council he had called at Corinth which had voted him, as he wanted, Supreme Commander of the Greek Forces 'for defence' against the Persians. On our return home we would begin to prepare the new expeditionary force immediately. That journey home saw Philip and Alexander on the best terms with one another I had seen – they acted as loving father and son and it pleased all of us. I had forgiven Philip his drunken attack, though he did still wink at me occasionally, but we both knew where we stood with each other. It pleased me to see them together and I looked forward to a continuation of that closeness when we reached Pella.

But in this wish I had forgotten Philip's propensity to think with his cock – an error Olympias never made.

Within weeks the King had fallen in love, again, with a young woman called Cleopatra. This was nothing new and unlikely to threaten either Olympias' or Alexander's positions at court. Except this time the girl was no foreigner but of pure Macedonian blood and a member of the Attalid family. Philip was not divorcing Olympias, merely adding a new wife to the five or six he already had, but due to her connections she would become his second ranking wife directly behind Olympias. If she had a son he would be a threat to Alexander, as he was only half-blood Macedonian – but not for many years. Macedonians never accepted a child king. Philip had gained the throne himself because of this when his brother left only a child, Amyntas, to succeed him. The Army needed an adult male to lead them and voted Philip as King instead.

No the threat came from the girl's uncle, Attalus. It was a threat that Alexander and his Friends, as we young men about him had now become known at court, recognised at once. The man was rich, powerful and fully prepared to push any offspring his niece produced forward as Philip's rightful heir. If this meant killing Alexander then so be it. Neither of us had ever liked the man and I found myself in the unusual position of agreeing with Olympias for once. But there was no child yet; we had a campaign to prepare for and fight – why second guess what the Furies had in mind before there was need to?

I discussed this with the Prince at length. He was disappointed with his father mainly because he could not understand how a man that old was unable to control his urges for young flesh.

"It's nature, I suppose."

"As a human being he should be above that, control it."

"I'll remind you of that when you're his age and chasing after some young page or girl."

He had the honesty to laugh at that. "You're right – that was the arrogance of youth talking."

"Or your mother?" I asked quietly.

"That too. You know me too well, Phai."

I was half inclined to tell him to stay away from the wedding, make an excuse not to go. But that, in the end, would only have worked to both the advantage of Attalus and Olympias and I could not let two people I considered his enemies win like that. So I agreed with his decision to attend. It was the worst mistake of my life and I have bitterly regretted it ever since. I failed to do my self-appointed task as I swore to do: protect him at all costs.

To say there was tension in the air during the wedding feast is an understatement. You could feel it crackling from person to person – I thought if I actually touched Alexander I would be burnt with Zeus' own fire, he was so tense. The guests had split along two lines – King's and Prince's friends; the younger Attalid's were sending pointed glares in our direction, a mixture of sneering civility, knowledge of their new status at court covering a violence that only needed the right spark to set it off.

We were no better. Ptolemy, Leonnatus, Perdiccas, Philotas, Cassander, Nearchus and Peucastis all mirrored their enmity back at them, for reasons of honest friendship to Alexander or a sense of risk to their own ambitions. I stayed close to Alexander, sharing his couch and keeping an eye on him and everyone else in the room, besides soothing him down – or was it myself I was trying to calm?

"We can leave soon, Alexander. Just a while longer until the bridal loaf is cut and then, once the toasts are done, we can go."

He nodded instinctively, not really listening, drinking deeply from his cup, his eyes never leaving his father who was well and truly in the grip of Dionysus. The man was in no state to do his husbandly duty that night I could see clearly – except he'd already done that weeks before and the girl was already rumoured to be pregnant. Barely able to sit up he held onto the poor girl in an iron grip and she looked – terrified! I realised how frightened she was then and I pitied her with all of my heart that I could spare from Alexander's equally painful situation. Philip's state was the perfect opportunity for Attalus to take centre stage and make his position clear to all.

I missed a lot of what he said in his toast as Cleitus chose that moment to land in my lap.

"Can I find you another seat Cleitus?"

"I'm fine here on your famous thighs, Hephaestion!"

This had begun as a joke of Ptolemy's in a veiled hint about my relationship with Alexander – too veiled for the down to earth Cleitus. He was drunk of course but his hands knew where they wanted to go, straight up my thigh and beneath my chiton. It was the fact that Alexander was ignoring this and staring stony faced at Attalus that drew my attention away from the Black's questing hands and I began to listen.

"…and produce a legitimate heir for Macedon!"

"Are you calling me a bastard?" Alexander cried in a voice he used only for the battlefield as his wine cup hit Attalus full in the chest. The infuriated man roared and threw his own back at the Prince who never moved a muscle, having reckoned the missile would miss anyway. I did though.

Shoving Cleitus off of me I proved my father's belief in my common sense totally misplaced by launching myself at the nearest smug Attalid who's face I took exception too and punched it with a gratifying, bone breaking crunch. Leonnatus had joined me almost immediately along with Cassander and Nearchus and we were soon in a free for all brawl. Typical wedding I suppose.

Only it wasn't; this was the King's palace and soon the Guards moved in to break it up and I was, literally, thrown back towards Alexander, who caught me before I crashed to the floor. Holding my upper arm in a vice-like grip he continued the heated argument he was having with his father who had furiously demanded he apologise to Attalus for his words and our conduct.

"Why do you side with a man who's just called my mother a whore and me a bastard? Old man, take care who you call family."

"Attalus' is family now, boy!"

"Because you can't stop yourself from rutting like a goat with a girl young enough to be your daughter! You make of yourself a fool and Greece laughs at you!"

"Alexander!" I whispered urgently, horrified now at where this was leading.

"Laughing at me? Who dares laugh at me! You bastard…" Philip swung down from his couch, drawing the sword he had used to cut the bridal loaf and lunged at his son. Instinctively I moved in front of the Prince but the King did not get to him. His lame foot had caught in a fallen cushion and he landed sprawling on the floor to the horror of the court, though I heard some of 'our' friends snickering behind me. Alexander pushed me aside, gently, and pointed to his father.

"Look men! This is the man who plans to cross to Asia and he can't even walk from one couch to the next without falling flat on his face!"

With that he turned on his heel and walked out of the hall, followed by the Friends. I stayed long enough to give a last look at my father who was standing with Parmenion and Antipater, as far away from Attalus as they could be; he gave me a swift nod and I went after my Prince into the unknown.

We left that night. Olympias was already packed when her son went to her, which I shall not comment on, and after taking her to her brother in Epirus we moved onto Illyria, using Alexander's previous missions there as a way to gain access to the tribal leaders. None mentioned that we were exiled or the King would have got his son back very soon – in pieces.

Most of the Friends had followed him, all but Cassander and Philotas whom he had told to stay behind as their fathers had not been a party to Attalus' insult and they would best serve him at the court. For the rest of us, who were not so high up in the elite, we did what we had to – follow our future king. He never forgot that. It was entirely possible that we would all be exiled for life or put to death as traitors if Philip so chose; joining Alexander in self-imposed exile was dangerous and had made our loyalties clear to all. It was done out of love for Alexander.

Our leader had been grossly insulted and it was not to be tolerated. I gave it no thought actually as it had never occurred to me to do otherwise. But I did feel a sense of guilt in that I had allowed him to go to that wedding against my better instincts. For the rest, Alexander never turned away love or met proofs of it with anything less than a return of it in full measure. It was, is, why we follow him to this day.

He never tried to lead the Illyrians in a rebellion against his father – that would have been self-destructive in the extreme. After all, he would be King one day and it made no sense to weaken his kingdom by allowing a part of it to rebel against Macedon. But after six months he realised we could not stay up there for ever. We never discussed it with words but I had his agreement and sent a message to my father who talked to Philip. Democratus of Corinth was sent to Alexander to discuss terms. It took a further two months of coming and going before everything was agreed – a tacit apology from Alexander in return for no action to be taken against his Friends, and acceptance of that by Philip.

So we collected Olympias from her brother, much to his relief (another part of the bargain – Alexander would not return without her), and returned to Pella to find the Attalid family firmly ensconced in high favour at court. Cleopatra, renamed by Philip Eurdikye after his mother (a Royal Name), had given birth to her child – a girl. We could at least breath again but it was soon apparent that she was, in fact, already pregnant again.

If I had hoped that things would calm down I was seriously mistaken and the next crisis, boarding on farce, was due solely to the malign influence of Olympias over her now highly strung and suspicious son.

TBC