A/N – There is some question amongst historians whether the 'Carian' episode ever took place. As with a lot of sources on Alexander there is conjecture. But I decided, as this is fiction, to follow the historians, and Renault, in using it as a probability.

Chapter Five

I had gone to visit my parents on the afternoon of that day of madness as I had been doing each day since my return from Illyria. I craved the calm and unconditional love and support I always found there in contrast to the court that was anything but sanguine. My eldest sister was to marry in a few weeks time to a man in the Royal Guard, Leonidas, who I liked very much. He considered his job was to protect the King from all threats, not to make judgements.

It was here that my father advised me of the latest political coup Philip was making to smooth his way for the landing of the expeditionary force in Asia.

"He's succeeded in persuading Pixodarus, the satrap of Caria, to accept Philip Arridaeus as husband to his eldest daughter. It's a good move, making the man blood kin to Philip and bolstering his backbone to betray Darius."

"Does the man know what he's getting for a son-in-law?" I asked laughing. Poor Arridaeus was a half wit but harmless and I looked on him with the callousness of a youth in perfect health both in mind and body. Alexander, not surprisingly, loved his half brother and cared for him all his life.

"Won't matter. He's a son of Philip of Macedon. Even Pixodarus wouldn't expect to get the King's heir as a bridegroom for his daughter! It's as perfect a piece of political manipulation you're ever likely to see Hephaestion. Learn from it."

"I'm sure Alexander agreed when told of it. He was told of it, wasn't he father?"

My father squirmed a bit on his chair before giving me a sad look. "They're not talking much, son, as you know. Besides, Alexander has spent a good deal of his time with his mother these past few days and …Hephaestion, whatever is the matter?"

I must have looked as bad as I felt – I could feel the blood drain from my face as I thought on his words and how Alexander had been over the last two days. Yes, he had been with Olympias a great deal. How did I miss the signs? Was it possible he could be so blind?

"Sorry, father – I have to go."

"What's wrong?"

"Hopefully nothing but…"

"But?"

"This 'political manipulation' could be seen as something entirely different by a person who wants the King to be seen, at all times, in a worst possible light. It could so easily be twisted to look as if Philip…"

"Was naming a successor? For the sake of all the gods Hephaestion no Macedonian would accept a half-wit as King! Not even she…oh, but she might. Go!"

I raced back to the palace to be confronted with an uproar that confirmed my worst suspicions at once. The marriage was being discussed as an out and out avowal by Philip that Alexander was no longer to be considered his heir. Not even Ptolemy was immune to this madness, urging Alexander on loudly to show his father, their father, that he could not be treated that way.

I spun around from one person to the next in a whirlwind of accusation and counter accusation until my head swam. Not a word of sense from any of them did I hear, Alexander most of all. He was pacing up and down, a hand raking through his bronzed mane, eyes flashing like a thunder storm – I knew that look; he was planning something. It had to stop before he went too far again. I went to him and forced him to halt and look at me, then indicated I wanted him to follow me into the next room, his bedchamber.

"This is hardly the time for love, Phai…"

My answering glare of barely controlled anger filtered through his seething brain eventually because he nodded and led the way. Slamming the door shut I wasted no time in prevarication or soothing words.

"Have you gone completely out of your mind? Have I misread the calendar and it's the Dionysia already?"

"What are you talking about? Philip plans to disinherit me!"

"No he doesn't."

"Are you so much in favour with 'my father' that he tells you what he won't discuss with me?"

"Oh, don't be stupid!"

"That's the second time you have accused me of madness, Hephaestion Amyntoros. Do not make the mistake of saying it a third time."

We stood there glaring at each other, short breaths coming out of constricted chests. Both of us realised we were on the edge of a precipice and the next words we uttered could have sent our friendship plummeting down onto the rocks, dashed to pieces for ever. By recognising that fact I calmed myself to answer him with facts not emotion.

"My father just told me. That's why I came back."

"Mother told me the King tried to take you to his bed. Is it true? Was he the man who bit you?"

How did the bitch find that out and why was he mentioning something so inconsequential now? Then I realised – he was terrified he had lost my loyalty and his mother would not think of how such an accusation would hurt him if it made her son hate his father, and me, the more.

"I told you it was a drunken old fool. Yes, it was Philip. He did not succeed then, now or ever will, Alexander. I love you. What I say to you now is not to belittle what is going on here. I know you're hurt but do not doubt my loyalty again."

He let out a sigh and threw back his head as if he would howl, but did not, simply started to rub his neck to release the tension that was there.

"Did your father also tell you that Philip is divorcing my mother?"

No, he hadn't, but it was possible he was not aware of it. Philip would tell him of matters pertaining to the government but my father was not of the inner circle so 'private matters' would not be discussed with him. This news made sense of Alexander's reaction to the Carian wedding. I tried to get my thoughts in focus and wanted desperately to take him in my arms and hug him but I knew he would not allow that – just now. He needed my advise more.

"I'm sorry. That is a terrible blow to your mother; but are you sure? She is a princess of Epirus; if he divorces her then her brother might…"

"Rebel? Not if he's Philip's new son-in-law."

"Son-in-law?" I said stupidly. Too many things were coming at me too fast to register. "Your sister Cleopatra?"

"Exactly. What matters then if his sister has been divorced?"

None whatsoever. What could I say to that?

I felt his hands cup my face and lift it so we could look into each other's eyes.

"I need your support Phai. I need you with me, whether you agree with me or not. Are you?"

"Yes. What are you going to do Xander?"

For the first time that day he smiled. It was a smile I never wanted to see aimed at me. "Diplomacy is a game we all can play, my Phai; as my father will soon find out."

Kissing me swiftly he headed out of the room, back to the chaos outside.

"Father Zeus, save us from this madness!" I prayed silently before following him.

Within the day he had sent his own envoy to Caria, the tragic actor, Thettalus; actors travelled everywhere in the civilised world. They were also servants of Apollo and had diplomatic immunity. His mandate was to offer Alexander himself as husband to Pixodarus' daughter rather than 'a fool and a bastard'. Naturally the man jumped at the change.

"See Phai – I knew it would work."

"Yes, Alexander – the man would be truly a fool to refuse you and accept Arridaeus. But what might you be getting?"

"I don't care if she looks like Bucephalus' arse!"

That certainly summoned up a vision in my mind let me tell you.

We waited for Thettalus to return. I stayed at the palace, not wanting to leave Alexander in the company of the others who showed no more sense than they had the first day. The days seemed to drag and nothing happened. I was hopeful this was a good sign. It was not.

The morning sun woke me from a fitful sleep. I was alone in my room, as usual, having left Alexander's in the early hours. We were trying to be more circumspect in our relationship.

Rising reluctantly I washed in cold water, drank some stale water from the pitcher by my bed and munched on an apple whilst I thought about what the day was likely to bring – news from Caria perhaps? Dressing in a new chiton my mother had made me, a pale blue colour, I headed for the door to go find Alexander.

Outside were two Royal Guards who, as soon as I opened the door, crossed their spears together in front of me letting me know wordlessly that I was under arrest. Silently closing the door again I went over to the window which looked out on a balcony running the length of that wing of the palace. Two more guards stood there. I was locked in. Sitting back on my bed I stared at the door for hour after hour, one thought alone repeating itself in my mind – where was Alexander?

It did not take a genius to realise that Philip knew what his son had been trying to do and had now taken steps. My concern was that he might decide his son had gone too far in treason this time and have him put to death. It numbed me: visions of his lovely body impaled with spears or crushed by rocks or hung up on a cross made me shake as if I had an ague. If that happened, I swore, I would kill Philip myself and then meet my own execution with pleasure.

With such cheering thoughts I entertained myself until I sensed the door had opened and I was no longer alone. Looking up I met the eyes of Antipater, the last person I expected to see there.

"My lord?" I asked, my voice hoarse.

"Follow me, Amyntoros."

I did as bid, painfully aware of the six guards surrounding me. They marched me to the audience hall which was full of courtiers. It was not they that caught my attention though as I entered.

Philip sat on his throne on the dais and before him, on his knees, was Alexander beside a taller manacled figure I barely recognised as Thettalus. I couldn't stop the gasp that left my lips at this sight: pain for Alexander's evident humiliation but shock that Philip had dare lay hands on a servant of Apollo and actually place him in chains!

Standing behind the kneeling figures, all guarded, were my friends – Ptolemy, Nearchus, Perdiccas and Leonnatus amongst them. I looked about and found Cassander in a far corner watching Alexander with a mixture of shock and pleasure on his face. He had never seen beyond the fact that the Prince was his ticket to power. Philotas stood beside his father on the dais, head down staring at his feet. One face I expected to see there that was not was Attalus.

Expecting to be marched to my place by my friends I was surprised to feel Antipater's hand on my shoulder halting me. "Stay here." He ordered before walking to the King.

I had to stand there and listen whilst my lover was treated to a vicious public tongue lashing by his father.

"How could you, my son, consider offering yourself in alliance to a mere servant of some barbarian king? Well, thanks to your stupidity and ego, he won't accept Arridaeus now. That means our invasion will not go as smoothly as I had planned. Men will die who need not have done – all thanks to you, boy!

"As to you, Thettalus – I trust you have now realised your talents are better used serving your calling as an actor. Leave the politics to kings."

"We have all learnt hard lessons here, my King; but a lesson pressed too hard can still be lost."

In other words 'You've made your point, man. Let me go and ease up on the boy.' I saw the two older men lock gazes and come to a silent agreement.

"Release him. Return to Corinth, Thettalus and concentrate on your acting for the next festival."

The actor gave his best bow before rising and allowing the guards to remove his chains. All the time Alexander was looking at him with such shame mirrored in his face: he always prided himself on sharing the dangers and fatigues of his men – this man he had failed, in his own consideration and it was cutting him raw. My heart almost broke for him, especially as I could see, as Thettalus had, that it was all a sham. Philip would never have executed the actor. He was doing this to teach his son a lesson in kingship in the cruellest way imaginable.

Once Thettalus had been removed the King told Alexander to stand.

"From this day the following are exiled from Macedon upon pain of death if they return: Ptolemy, son of Lagus; Leonnatus, son of Anteas; Perdiccas, son of Orontes; Nearchus…Harpolas…"

The list went on until everyone of the Prince's Friends had been called out except Cassander, Philotas and – me. I stood waiting expectantly for my name to be called but it never was.

"You all have until nightfall to say farewell to your families and be beyond our borders. Take them away."

As Ptolemy was marched passed me he slowed long enough to whisper 'Take care of him' before being pushed on by his guard. My own then indicated to me with a shove in the back that I was to move forward. What was my fate to be? For the first time I began to feel seriously frightened, not least because there was no sign of my father in the Hall. If Philip was determined to teach his son a lesson he would never forget what better way than to exile his friends and have the closest of them executed.

"Alexander, Hephaestion – follow me." Philip commanded as he limped from the dais and headed towards his study. Once inside the three of us were alone and Alexander opened his mouth to say something but his father raised a hand and growled out

"Be silent! Listen! I am told Hephaestion here was the only one of your so-called friends who advised you against this lunacy."

"Yes, father. He did not agree with my actions."

"Then he has more sense than you have. You will do well to listen to him in future. Because of that I have not exiled him with the others. But be warned, Alexander, one more senseless act like this one, even a breath that you're acting against me and my plans and I will have your lover brought before the Assembly and ask for his death. Do you understand me?"

I could see Alexander's jaw trembling with fury but he managed to answer "Yes, my King."

"His life depends on your good behaviour. Now go. Guard! See that the Prince reaches his room without any diversions and that he stays there."

As Alexander brushed past me we shared a long look, one full of worry, fear and love for the other. The door closed behind him and I turned my attention to the king who slumped in a chair and gave me a baleful look from his eye.

"That boy is his mother's son."

I glared at him, not hiding my contempt for what he had put my lover through, and stood stiffly at attention. He noted that and barked out a curt laugh.

"Easy whelp. We both know he needed the lesson."

"Did it have to be so cruel? Sire."

"Yes, by Hera, it did! Don't dare stand there and judge me! He must learn to act like a king. It takes more than the ability to kill and win battles Hephaestion, as you well know. I don't hold it against you that your loyalty to my son outweighed that which you owed to me. In your place, I doubt I would have done any different or gone running to the king to tell tales."

"Someone did." I murmured

"Yes – they did. You truly are no fool, boy. And it shouldn't take you long to work out who it was either. When you do, remember this – watch him; his loyalty is to himself alone. Be wiser still. Keep my son from making a fool of himself again and you will do me and the kingdom a great service."

He stood up and stretched, looking so exhausted that despite myself I began to understand the pressure he must have been under and how much trouble Alexander's unfounded concern for his status had caused him. My budding sympathy must have been apparent on my face as he stood before me, laying a hand on my shoulder, studying me carefully.

"Blue suits you. You truly are beautiful Hephaestion. Use that gift now and go give my son the comfort he needs."

For the first time that day I smiled and he returned it. At that instant we understood each other perfectly and I saw an insight into my king that I knew Alexander would never see or accept. He loved his son, was so proud of him and wanted him to fulfil his destiny – to be a great king. But he was up against such difficulties caused by his wife that he would never, now, get close enough to his son to teach him how to be a king. That task, I now realise, he passed onto me that day.

He called in the guard and instructed him to take me to the Prince. "Make sure no one disturbs them." He ordered. Meaning Olympias I surmised.

Alexander was pacing the room as I entered and as soon as the guard left he pulled me into a rib crunching hug.

"Are you alright? Did he hurt you?" he asked breathlessly, in a voice that sounded like he had swallowed rocks.

"I'm fine, Alexander. He neither touched me nor threatened me in anyway." I replied as he looked me up and down, stroking back the hair from my face behind my ear and nervously tracing my features with his fingertips ghosting over my skin. I held him to me sensing how close he was to falling apart.

"I'm here, Alexander, I'm here."

He collapsed in my arms and I sat on the bed, holding him as he shook with emotion and anger, tears pouring soundlessly from his eyes.

"He put his foot on my neck, Phai. He ground me into the dust before them all as though I was nothing!"

"I know, my love, I know…" it was no time to explain to him what I believed Philip had actually been trying to do nor that the king had confirmed his status clearly for all to hear in that Hall. He didn't want to hear it then.

The words spilled out of him; words of hate, years of pent up anger and pain that had him teetering on the verge of insanity. Whatever Philip had hoped to accomplish this day he had completed the total rupture with his son that Olympias had worked so hard to achieve – at a terrible cost to both men. I had to stop him from thinking of it all, tearing himself apart, trying to distance himself from his father to a degree that he was ready to accept the more wilder claims his mother had made; if he denied the king's paternity to his own mind he would start the walk down the road to megalomania and I would truly lose him. This, in a flash of clarity, was what Philip had sent me here for – he knew his son better than I ever thought. He knew exactly what had to be done. And so did I.

"Am I going mad, Phaistion?"

"No, I won't let that happen."

"I can feel my mind slipping…"

"Ssh. Enough now. No more words."

Easing away from him I loosened my belt then unfastened the pins of my chiton, letting it fall from me. Alexander quietened and watched my every move until, naked, I took him back into my arms and let both of us sink down on the bed. He was breathing rapidly as he stared down at me.

"You are so beautiful, my Phai."

"No words." I replied and kissed him on the lips, a kiss he answered with a fervour borne of suppressed rage.

This was not going to be gentle. Cauterising a wound never was. His lips ground down on mine, bruising, demanding, biting my lower lip until I tasted my own blood. I returned the compliment, tearing at his clothing until he was as naked as I then raking his back with my nails deliberately to cause pain that would stop him from thinking at all. It worked. Roaring in pain he forced my legs apart, grabbing me in one hand and squeezing until I screamed myself and bucked up beneath him giving him access to me. He drove into me yelling the paean at the top of his voice and proceeded to ride me as he would Buchephalus in a full charge.

There was no tenderness or love in it but a purely animal release that he needed; a catharsis for his humiliation and pain, with someone who understood his need and would accept it. That it aroused me beyond anything I had ever experience before confused me but soon I had no room to think, my body took over all my senses and I relished the feel of him, the power of him taking the one thing I had to offer. We came together, Alexander literally throwing back his head in a roar that would have waked the dead. The gods only knew what the guards thought of all the noise but they had their instructions from the king not to interfere.

He collapsed on top of me, both of us bathed with sweat and so hot to the touch it was as if we burned with an internal fire. It took awhile for the room to steady itself about me and when Alexander slipped out of me he curled up, exhausted, in my arms, head cradled in the crook of my neck and slept like the dead. Stroking his sweat soaked hair from his face I eased my sore body into a more comfortable position sure that I had succeeded in the task my king had set me.

Before sleep claimed me as well I remember thinking one thing. 'Oh, Father Zeus, let me not need to mount a horse any time soon!'

TBC