A/N – Barsine gets short shift here, I'm afraid, as I am unconvinced by Plutarch in this regard for too many reasons to go into – feel free to disagree! This is a fairly short chapter as the next two are huge.

Chapter Ten

Darius had not completely forgotten his family and soon a demand of Alexander's terms for their release was received – along with a diatribe against us, and saying it was the gods that made him lose not my king's ability. This did not endear the man to my lover who replied he'd take as much of his empire as he wanted and that Darius could have his family back – if he came to collect them in person! Alexander won that fight too.

He was also reunited with an old friend, found amongst the women of the harem – Barsine, daughter of the Persian Artabazus. The satrap had been exiled when Alexander was very young and had been given refuge by Philip for himself, his family and a few other nobles; the young Prince had gotten on very well with the whole tribe and to find Barsine, his elder by a dozen years was both a delight and a regret – she was the widow of Memnon.

She was lovely but not young, having two children by her husband. Alexander treated her with deference for herself but more for who her father was; there was every chance the old man could be brought over to our side as we progressed on the campaign. In view of this, my King decided to send her and her children to safety in Halicarnassus but the lady herself, much to his surprise and not a little annoyance, rejected this. Alexander never set excessive store by his rank but there was a line people did not cross, and refusing his command, even when couched nicely as a 'suggestion', rarely boded well for continued good health. Women and children were the only ones who regularly got away with it – oh, and of course, me.

Her reason was that one of his officers, Seleucus, had been visiting her and she insisted on staying with him. What was the merit in Alexander arguing with it? His main insistence, as he pointed out to Seleucus was to ensure her safety for her father; other than that she may do as she pleased. I found her choice very interesting as this officer was much like Alexander physically, bit taller with same colouring but more close to her own age. It left me wondering.

Parmenion was sent off on another independent command to secure Damascus and I spent four hectic weeks riding about garnering supplies, setting up forward depots of food and weapons, as we marched on through the Levant towards Sidon. It was during this period that I re-arranged our scouts into a more cohesive force for reconnaissance and also to include the spies who were used to infiltrate any upcoming, possibly hostile, cities. This intelligence allowed us time to decide whether we would need to talk or to fight and gave my king an advantage he was never slow to use. The ones I sent into Sidon reported that the city leaders were more than willing to surrender. Alexander sent a more official delegation, led by myself, to discuss their terms. The surrender was completed quickly and without a hitch. I was then sent out on another supply run.

When I returned after two gruelling weeks, only wanting a bath, sleep and not to sit a horse again for a few days, I was surprised to be told he was sending me back to Sidon.

"I have a special mission for you. They have asked me to appoint a king for them, as they had a monarchy before the Persians, and like that form of government. I can't spare you away from my side, so you can only go and choose another for them."

At first I thought he was joking with me but I looked into those amazing eyes and saw he spoke true. He actually thought I was good enough to be a king! A lump came to my throat; I did not want to be a king but that he believed I could be was all I needed. I was also gratified he had such trust in my judgement that he was prepared to show it in such an open way.

"I will find a king worthy of them but mainly of you – my King."

After all, how hard could it be?

Bloody hard as it turned out. From the moment I set foot in Sidon I was surrounded by men all baying: 'Choose me!' They were all rich, of noble families and decidedly more concerned with their own ambitions rather than the good of the state. All except my host, a modest, timid man, who never put himself forward in case he got yelled at by the other donkeys.

Alexander's words came back to me at a particularly tiresome banquet, where my ear had been talked off by at least twenty men, none of whose names or faces I remembered, that they had once had a monarchy here. Turning to my host I asked him, not very hopefully, whether there were any surviving members of the old royal family. To my surprise he said there was; a man of moderate means who had lived by keeping his head down and away from politics. I arranged for him to take me to see the man the next day and went to bed.

His name was barely pronounceable – Abdalongmus – unless you said it very slowly; but then he couldn't quite grasp how to say mine either, so it gave us an immediate bond through laughter. I liked the man, he was self-effacing but not introvert, did not push himself forward but never hung back either. Our talk in his beautiful garden was very pleasant and I learned a good deal about roses, which were his passion.

As he belonged to no political clique within the city he was acceptable to the majority. Others accepted him only grudgingly but they shut up at the sight of my escort, especially by me chosen for their impressive size and scary faces; I saw him installed as king before I left. I returned to Alexander with my report and an invitation from the king to his overlord to attend a lion hunt. Naturally he accepted and we joined Abdalongmus a few weeks later, taking most of the Staff with us. Ptolemy stayed home to mind the children.

It was a glorious hunt; hard riding and frantic as the lion we cornered was young, quick and cunning. Almost with regret we finally brought him to bay in a small gully off a river and Alexander struck home with his spear, killing the beast outright, as his bravery deserved. The king of Sidon declined, gracefully, to accept the lion's skin and offered it to my king instead who, just as gracefully, took it. He's had it turned into a headdress, which he wears on religious occasions in honour of Herakles, or at banquets when the drinking has turned heavy. He also wears it when we are alone…

After the hunt we were invited to a banquet and I was pleased to see the two kings getting on so well. I had no such compatible company seated beside me, only Cleitus – still wet from his bath and smelling, I could swear, of roses! He was laughing at Philotas' antics with his new mistress, Antigone, who was deftly evading his wandering hands - then he turned his attention to me.

" Your new creation knows how to throw as good a feast as he does a hunt, Hephaestion. A servant in the morning and king by the afternoon! Now that is quick promotion."

"Abdalonymus was no servant."

"I heard he was some noble's gardener when you picked him up and hailed him King!"

"I met him in a garden, you moron; his own."

"I like my version better, Athenian."

"Cleitus – why don't you go find a nice, big, snake and shove it where Olympias' is rumoured to do, or at least the closest equivalent hole you have!"

"Only if you show me how."

By now our heads were almost touching and I looked into his rather beautiful brown eyes for a drawn out moment, his smirk broadening as he revelled in my supposed embarrassment, before I replied.

"Very well. But you get the snake. Shall we go?" and I sat up on the couch as if readying to leave.

The look on his face was priceless. First his jaw dropped; then his eyes bulged and finally he nearly fell off the couch in his hurry to be somewhere else, followed by my laughter. Vengeance can be so sweet.

For weeks after I took every opportunity to rub it in by 'hissing' at him whenever we met or were together; at Staff meetings, passing him in the camp or when I strolled past him to take my seat beside the King at dinner. Each time I did it he growled an obscenity at me – I was paying him back for years of snide, hurtful remarks and I loved it.

Naturally Alexander noticed and was intensely curious.

"Are you going to tell me why you keep hissing at Cleitus every time you meet?"

I thought about it.

"No. I don't think I am." I said and walked off whistling the tune to a particularly bawdy song that was doing the rounds of the camp at that time.

We left Sidon and continued south to our next objective. Alexander had decided against a war at sea – he was no admiral and freely admitted it. So his plan was to destroy the Persian fleet's ability to replenish supplies by taking every sea port down the coast all the way to Egypt. It was not accepted immediately by the Staff because Darius was still out there, though not moving as far as we could tell, having headed back to Babylon; Parmenion was watch dog for him.

Reading the reports I was getting from my scouts I realised the enemy navy was far more of an immediate threat than their king was. Alexander and I planned our campaign of attrition very carefully. It was not a speedy solution but one, I hoped, which would finish off any threat from the sea for good. Besides, it also meant that Alexander could take control of more territories to protect our communications back to Macedon – and further his dream. I was always mindful of that.

The next port of call, therefore, was Tyre. It was to be a turning point in this war in more ways than one.

TBC