Dear readers, sorry for not updating for so long. Below is the next chapter, I hope you'll find it interesting.
Your comments, as always, are really appreciated and I am looking forward to know your opinions.
O
348 BC, late spring
"Where have you been, Hephaistion?" Amyntor furiously approached his son trying to conceal his worry under the mask of anger.
"We went to see the prisoners, Papa," the youngster replied with excitement and aplomb as if he was reporting some heroic dead, "then we went for a swim, and played hide and seek among the tents. We also went to Shokar's dad smithy and watched him work. His daggers are so beautiful! I wish I had money to buy one of those but it must be very expensive. Shokar says his dad supplies weapons to the Great King court."
"How many times did I tell you not to go anywhere alone and don't disappear for a whole day!" insisted Amyntor.
"But I never was alone, I am never alone," Hephaistion vehemently shook his head in defence. "And not for whole day, look! It is still light outside, the sun won't disappear over the horizon for a few hours. I just came to say I am fine, just like you asked me, but I have to go now, or I will be late for the race."
"You're not going anywhere; go inside and wash yourself then put some decent clothes and we'll have something to eat together."
"But father!" Hephaistion protested. "My friends will be waiting for me. I promised!"
"I said no," Amyntor was adamant.
"It is not fair!" Hephaistion took a step towards his father, his eyes glowing in indignation, his chest rolled forward and shoulders squared back in order to look more significant.
"Life is not fair. Now, go inside and do as you are told."
Hephaistion huffed in frustration and turned his head away, not wishing to obey his father but at the same time hesitant to contradict him directly. He loved and admired his father as long as he could remember and wanted to do anything to please him but sometimes he simply couldn't figure out why his father did certain things. For example, why they had to leave Macedonia behind and come to this foreign land. Sure, it was an exciting adventure; he had far more fun than on any other trips his father took him but hence laid the difference, in the past they just went away for a short period of time but now it was forever. Hephaistion didn't like it a bit though he tried to make the best of it.
Amyntor watched his son's internal struggle and wished he could help but he knew children's rebellions were common and he still remembered himself as a child who liked very little to be ordered around. "I want only what is best for you," the general said quietly. "Now go and do as you're told. You can tell me all about your day's adventures later."
Hephaistion stood there immobile for a few more moments and then silently went further inside the tent. Amyntor sighed. If only he didn't make that rush decision to bring Hephaistion with him…. No, that's not true, it wasn't the rush decision, it was the only possible one, firmly corrected himself Amyntor. Besides, there was no point to regret something that was not possible to correct. One simply should to find a way to make the best of the situation. There is always a way, you just have to find it. You just have to find it, like mantra repeated Amyntor trying to clear his mind from the grim forebodings.
"Master, you have a visitor," announced a slave but before Amyntor could respond in any way he found himself staring at the sumptuously dressed individual who, after bowing to the general in a very complicated and ceremonious way announced something in Persian. Immediately, another person, thin and fidgety like a quicksilver, emerged as if from nowhere and declared in rather passable Greek.
"This is Anushta, a herald of the Great King Artaxerxes himself. The King of Kings generously bestows a great honor on you by summoning to his Divine presence."
The translator fell silent and Anushta continued with interpreter's help, "You are to come with me immediately. The King of Kings wishes to speak with you now. You have to hurry, his Divinity doesn't like to wait."
"It is a great honor indeed, I will come immediately, I just need to change my clothes; it won't take long but I can't insult the Great King coming to him in these garments, unworthy of his divine glance."
Presumably, the translation was dead on because Amyntor noticed Anushta's brows slightly went up at such a court appropriate phrase.
"Be very quick," the herald agreed, "very quick."
Without further ado Amyntor disappeared behind the think curtain. "Bring me the best cloak, silver wristbands and new sandals," the general hurriedly ordered his slave and dove further inside his tent.
"Hephaistion, Hephaistion, come here quickly," loudly whispered Amyntor.
"What's going on, father?" The boy appeared, half naked since he didn't have time to dress after he washed up.
"Listen to me carefully," seriously said Amyntor, "put your previous clothes on, the dirty ones, and some old himation, maybe fetch the second one, to make yourself warmer. Did you have time to eat?"
"No, I just washed up, as you asked me to. I thought we were dining together. What's the matter?"
"I was summoned unexpectedly to the Great King."
"But it is a good thing, right? This is what you've been waiting for all this time. Now you look…nervous."
"I don't like it. Something doesn't seem right. Mazaeus didn't tell me anything and he would know. He is still in Sidon, coming back in a day or two. I need you to hide."
"To hide? Why? Where?" his father's anxiety passed to Hephaistion.
"Listen to me, I don't have a lot of time," Amyntor continued to whisper. "I just have this gut feeling, I hope I am wrong. After I am gone, fetch something to eat from inside the tent, don't go outside, and make yourself invisible. For now, hide inside our tent but find such a place that you can sneak out unnoticed if somebody comes looking for you."
"But who will be looking for me?"
"Don't interrupt or question. Just remember all I am telling you and do exactly what I ask you to do. I hope nobody will come for you, but if yes, you can't be discovered here, or at any other place. Try to hide somewhere in the camp but don't go to your friends, they may inform on you. Wait till it completely dark and go to Mazaeus' tent but don't go directly, try to sneak in unnoticed. Wait till Mazaeus comes back and tell him I was unexpectedly summoned to the Great King and I ordered you to hide and then go to him. Tell him exactly these words from me, "Mazaeus, I ask you to keep the promise that you never gave". "
"It doesn't make sense, how someone can keep the promise that was never given? What promise?"
"He will understand. I hope he will help you but….if you feel he is not inclined to, or he will want to take you somewhere else, try to escape, run away."
"Run away? Where?" Hephaistion suddenly felt very scared.
"I have to go," Amyntor slightly bent and kissed his son's forehead, "Or they may suspect something and come after me here. I don't want them to discover you with me. Tell Mazaeus it was Anushta who came to take me to the Great King. I don't know this person but I am sure Mazaeus does. Do as I told you and try your best to stay alive and safe. Maybe it's all for nothing and I will come back soon. Then – we'll celebrate. And, find a purse with small coins, you may need it. I hope to see you later, son, but I have to bid you farewell for now."
With those last words Amyntor disappeared from Hephaistion's view. The general hurriedly changed his own clothes and appeared before Anushta beaming confidence and self-assurance. The herald gave him an appreciative look and silently nodded towards the exit.
Amyntor raised a brow when he saw a fancy palanquin waiting for him and Anushta; there were also some guards but in itself, nothing was unusual about it, a special herald from the Great King court was a rather high placed official and as such was supposed to be guarded.
"I am not used to this way of travel," Amyntor announced.
"Great King's orders," explained Anushta via translator and pulled away the heavy curtain.
There was no point to argue and Amyntor stepped inside. Anushta followed but translator was left outside and the general realized he was denied the chance to ask more questions.
"At least I will have some time to collect my thoughts," grimly consoled himself Amyntor succumbing to the even rhythm of the palanquin. It was almost two months since the unexpected arrival of the Great King's army. After a few days of conferring and reorganizing the troops the combined forces of Artaxerxes and Mazaeus attacked Sidon. It was difficult to imagine that Mentor didn't realize that he faced now an army that hugely outnumbered his own but nevertheless instead of hiding inside the city walls he gave an open field battle and was soundly defeated. He lost a lot of his own mercenaries and the losses were even heavier among the troops that Pharaoh Nechtebo gave him as a reinforcement and among the Sidonians and all the allies who came to their side.
After the rebels' army was annihilated, the city of Sidon was left defenceless but still they tried to offer resistance. It was useless, of course. The city was taken and burned to the ground, many of its citizens killed and only few managed to escape. King Tennes and Mentor were taken prisoners. For some time King's army scouted the surrounding area in search of the rebels that managed to escape. After a few weeks king Tennes was publicly executed and all the prisoners were brought to witness the event and then every second of them was executed as well with the rest given to the slave traders.
Now the Great King's army was about to move to Egypt to finish the rebellion there and Mazaeus was given all the surrounding area as a satrapy in addition to the one he already governed. Despite of what Mazaeus told Amyntor before the Great King's arrival, the Macedonian general still wasn't given the audience by Artaxerxes, nor was he allowed to take part in the Persian offensive. Mazaeus didn't seem too much disturbed by the fact, besides, he had very little time to spend with Amyntor now but he promised to arrange for the audience before the main part of the Army, with Great King at its head, moved to Egypt.
"Maybe I simply became paranoid after all the inactivity and waiting," mused Amyntor, "but if it takes so much time to gain audience with the Great King, what are my chances of getting into his confidence and learning his plans? True, Philip is not going to invade tomorrow but at this speed I will achieve nothing. Staying in Mazaeus' camp may prove more useful especially now since he governs such a vast territory. Still, it is very strange that he didn't tell me anything about the audience, unless he wanted it to be a surprise. But why?"
Amyntor suddenly realized that palanquin stopped and moments later someone drew the curtains apart and invited the general to step down. "Wish me luck, Philip," silently prayed Amyntor and stepped down.
Mentor carefully tried to shift his weight from one side to another; if his swing would be too sharp or too wide, he will fall again and will be forced to get up on his own which was rather difficult to achieve when your legs are bound at ankles, arms bound behind your back and recent wounds through the right shoulder and left part of the abdomen didn't heal properly yet. Still, it was worth a try or the body will stiffen even further and he will fall anyway. Mentor concentrated on the movement trying to balance on the small spot created specifically for him among the lush carpets that covered the floor of the tent. His knees were precariously perched on the narrow path peppered with small sharp chards and the toes of his feet rested on the same sharp pebbles. He knew that when Artaxerxes would be satisfied with this torture, he will order him to move forward on his knees following the narrow path of those small sharp stones, otherwise what was the point of littering the king's luscious carpets with those pointy pebbles?
Mentor exhaled after his effort succeeded, the slight movement brought momentous relief to his stiff body and he didn't fell as a result. He wondered how much time has passed since he was first brought there, at least a few hours, he was sure but … how many of those few? He remembered falling into the soft carpet but the moment of bliss was short and ended with painful thrusts of the guards' pikes into his rib cage. He was thrown again on the sharp pebbles and received a few strikes of the fists on his face. One of his eyes was still shut swollen from the previous beating but he noticed that the guards avoided hitting him near his second eyes, obviously, they wanted him to see. Instead, the blows went to his nose and his lips; some blood hardened by now but he still could feel tiny rivulets gliding down his chin. With his hands behind his back, there was nothing he could do to clean up his face.
Mentor continued to watch Artaxerxes conferring with different dignitaries, visibly not paying the slightest attention to his persona but he noticed that from time to time the Great King would turn his head to the left and look up staring at something. "He probably has there some hidden mirror so that he can watch my condition. Does he really think to intimidate me with this prolonged torture? Does he really take me for such a weakling or he hopes to crash my spirit before daring to face me? He needs me for something, or I would be dead long time ago. Strange that none of his goons that beat me asked any questions, they just took pleasure in the process or maybe their orders were to make me weak and pliable. What a waste!"
Suddenly, Mentor was pushed forward and crashed with his forehead on the pebbles. The push wasn't very strong and he remained conscious. Then he realized that the ropes on his ankles were cut and instead metal bracelets connected by a short chain were fitted at the same place. He was roughly jerked upward and pushed to take the small steps along the tortuous path. When he was deemed close enough to the Great King, he was pushed down again on his knees. Trying to shake off the hands that hold him he raised his gaze and stared defiantly at Artaxerxes.
The Great King was close enough that Mentor was able to clearly see him. Ochred beard and hair woven in the official style of Persian kings complimented the brownish scheme of Artaxerxes' attire highlighted by golden threads lavishly woven in together with occasional jewel. The curls were hold in place by a thick band of hammered gold with some sort of intricate design and abundant amount of precious stones. Dark eyes looked with haughtiness and disdain from the heavy brows also painted with ochre. The same colour was also applied to the lips to make them fuller. One hand was curled around the lion-claw ending of the throne while other nursed small golden chalice from which the Great King, as if absentmindedly, took small sips.
After some moments of silence, Artaxerxes started to talk in a rather loud, boomy voice. The short sentence was immediately repeated in Greek by somebody else.
"The Great King wishes to know," Mentor heard the sure voice of interpreter, "how is your brother-in-law doing. Is he well?"
Mentor mentally snorted at the question, really? But life was a wonderful, precious thing so he reservedly supplied, "Unfortunately, I haven't been in contact with my brother-in-law for a long time and unable to provide you with a truthful answer."
"Such a pity that you didn't stay in touch. I WISH to know how he is doing, and fulfilling my wishes is the best way to stay alive. Do you want to stay alive, Mentor?"
"Yes, I do."
"Hmm," Artaxerxes mused as if seriously pondering this answer. "And what do you think you can do for me in order to stay alive?"
"I am a successful mercenary general. I am in the business of winning wars. I don't have any other talents."
"Winning wars? It hardly can be said about your latest enterprise."
"This is because I had no intentions of winning."
"How so?"
"Despite everything that happened, Artabazus, my brother-in-law, is your loyal servant. His enemies envied him and conspired against him."
"Conspired against him? Even though his older brother revolted against me, I made Artabazus a satrap of Phrygia but he refused obedience to me and instead joined other satraps in their rebellion."
"He was forced to join that uprising. He never wished to. All he ever wished was to be your loyal servant. And so do my brother and I. I thought that if I bring you the rebellious Egyptian Pharaoh's and the Sidonian King's heads on the plate, you may show our family some benevolence and trust. But moreover, you can be sure that neither I nor my brother-in-law will never conspire with other satraps against you."
"You speak of loyalty….I see no reason to trust your loyalty."
"It is my brother-in-law's loyalty that you can trust. My loyalty is always to the master who can pay more. And nobody can pay more than the King of Kings."
"Hmm, if I let you go, you have no qualms returning to Egypt, as my general, and finish Nechtabo's rebellion?"
"I will do it gladly, if you assure me that my family can safely return from the exile."
"Maybe. Or maybe I go to Egypt myself since I have no need of your advice. Or maybe I give the command to general Amyntor, surely you've heard that he is in my camp? What would you say to that?"
"I would never assume giving you advice."
"I don't believe your humility and when I ask a question, I like it to be answered. So?"
"You showed a great prowess and cunning coming here with your army but I am sure you can use your time more efficiently ruling your Empire from the palaces of Persepolis and Susa then chasing crocodile worshipers across the desert. As for Amyntor, though you called him a general, I never heard that he ever distinguished himself on the battlefield. He knows nothing of warfare."
"Mazaeus says otherwise."
Mentor fell silent. He knew that Mazaeus was one of Artaxerxes' favorites and he didn't wish to contradict his word directly.
"I see," said Artaxerxes, "at least I got a proof that you're wise enough to consider the consequences of your words. How about we ask Amyntor himself? He surely will be able to give us details of his career."
The Rhodian general watched Artaxerxes nod and some moments later he saw from the corner of his good eye that the Macedonian was ushered into the Great King's presence. Amyntor, being a guest and not the prisoner, was treated with more deference, at least by Artaxerxes' guards. Dressed in some mix of military and civilian attire, he was allowed to approach on his own and then voluntary performed a proskynesis, as flawlessly as if he was performing it all his adult life.
"You enjoyed our hospitality for several months already," Artaxerxes addressed Amyntor without preliminaries, "what took you so long to grace us with your presence?"
It might have been the first personal experience of the audience granted by the Great King for Amyntor, but he lived and breathed the world of intrigues and subterfuges since he was a teenager so he wasn't much baffled by such an opening.
"Since the first day of my arrival I dreamed of being brought to your divine presence but I am wise enough to recognize that I can't put my desires ahead of yours. I patiently waited for the Great King to grant me such a privilege at the time when it was convenient for him."
"You see, Mentor," Artaxerxes addressed his prisoner, "the Macedonian general who never been to our court, knows more about serving us then somebody whose brother-in-law boasts of tracing his lineage to the great Cyrus and whose ancestors served Great Kings for many generations."
"I thought you have enough flatterers at your court and was looking for a general," responded Mentor. He knew it was a risky approach but he also was aware that Artaxerxes was looking for somebody who can take a stand and tower over other courtiers. Somebody who was loyal, talented and blunt and because of the sharp tongue not on good terms with other satraps would be completely dependent on the Great King and will never conspire with always present malcontents.
"My prisoner here," Artaxerxes turned his attention back to Amyntor without responding in any way to Mentor's opinion, "claims that you have no experience as a general. What do you have to say on the matter?"
"Successful or not," Amyntor started without any hesitation, "Mentor knows the same things as your other generals, how to fight, sometimes winning and sometimes loosing, other satraps or face the rebellious moods of different warlords in your empire. He can bring nothing new to the table. I know how Macedonians and other Greeks fight and think and thus of far greater value to you."
"True enough," Artaxerxes, "Mentor, what do you have to say to it?"
Both Mentor and Amyntor realized by this point that the Great King was pitching the two of them against each other and most probably there was going to be only one winner. They both tried to discern what was going in the Great King head, Mentor helped by the knowledge acquired from his brother-in-law and Amyntor from sporadic conversations with Mazaeus and the tidbits of information that his own spies brought to him when he was still in Macedon.
"All his life Amyntor was a lap-dog of Philip, he even offered his ass to Pammenes to make Philip being accepted in Thebes. You have enough eunuchs in your Harem to play this role," spitted Mentor with disgust.
"I am not a eunuch and you have absolutely no knowledge of what took place in Thebes," Amyntor remained absolutely unperturbed by the slander, "relying on gossips doesn't win wars."
"Sometimes it does," thinly smiled Artaxerxes, "and yet Mentor right, all your life you served Philip. How can I believe that suddenly you betrayed him? And even if it is indeed the case, what assurances can I have that you won't betray me as well?"
"You are right, Great King, all my life I served Philip, my King, but I saw very little in return. I have my pride too. As for the trust, another Great King before you, also Artaxerxes, trusted Themistocles. Surely, the Athenian general caused more damage to Persians than I ever did."
"You dare to equal yourself to Themistocles?" scoffed Mentor.
Amyntor, yet again paid no attention to his rival and bowed to Artaxerxes.
"You have your way with words, now I am sure of it," the Great King conceded. "I have enough capable generals in my army and don't need a Rhodian renegade to win battles for me, yet person of your abilities can be a valuable addition to the circle of my advisers. Now, that this is settled, you can return to your quarters. I will think of appropriate post and compensation for you and will pass my will through Mazaeus."
Realizing that the audience for him has ended, Amyntor bowed again, fighting hard to hide his triumph. Walking with confidence on the soft carpets that covered the floors of the Great King's tent, he berated himself for his fears and unnecessary fright that he caused Hephaistion earlier. Thinking about his son was the last deliberate action of Amyntor's life when the thin rope of metal encircled his throat and cut it in a matter of seconds.
Mentor absent-mindedly counted the receding footsteps of Macedonian general with detached resignation. He realized he lost this battle and his life was forfeited, he had hours to live, maybe even less. He will be dragged from here and killed on Artaxerxes' orders, swiftly with a sharp weapon if the king was in a merciful mood or tortured to death if he was not.
Yet surprisingly, nothing was happening for some time. Artaxerxes froze on his throne in a statue like coldness, the translator disappeared behind the curtain and the Immortals, the famous guards of the Persian Kings, continued their watch as emotionlessly as always. The pregnant silence hang in the reception room for some minutes until suddenly the Great King stood from his throne and took a few steps down from the platform. At the same moment Mentor was lifted up from his painful position by two guards who firmly placed their hands under his bended elbows at the same time allowing him to stand more easily but also preventing any sudden movement. When the dizziness from the sudden movement disappeared he realized that Artaxerxes was standing rather close to him, studying his sorry state with dispassionate glance of the god.
"You really don't need a translator to understand what I am saying, do you?" inquired the Great King without any questioning intonation in his tone.
A thin ray of hope flashed before Mentor's eyes and he decided to show some humility in his behavior.
"You are right, Great King, my Persian is quite good."
"Well, then, walk with me," said Artaxerxes and made a sharp turn to the right. The guards holding Mentor almost lifted him from the ground but he was grateful for their firm grip because after hours on his knees he needed some time to regain his faculty to walk. They didn't need to go far, after some twenty steps they stopped at the heavy curtain which was immediately opened before the Great King and so unexpected was the view that Mentor gasped in surprise – on the floor before him was a body of Amyntor, obviously dead, his throat cut with some sharp object.
"Pleasant surprise for you, isn't it?" dispassionately asked Artaxerxes.
"Ye..es," stumbled Mentor but quickly regained his wits, "incredibly pleasant, unless, of course, you have in mind to execute me as well."
"Not now but I won't hesitate if you ever as much as think of betraying me and, of course, you have to deliver on your promises of conquering all my enemies so that I can, as you so wisely put it, govern my realm in peace."
Mentor made an effort to bow but it was rather difficult given his condition. Artaxerxes continued, "I could of course spare him but I thought his corpse can serve me better, as a constant reminder to you of what will happen to you and your family if your actions will disappoint me."
"My family, Great King?"
"A few weeks ago I sent secret emissaries to your brother-in-law allowing him to return to my court. He and his family, your brother including, will arrive shortly. After your happy family reunion they will accompany me back to Persepolis and you will leave for Egypt to finish the Nectabo's rebellion. If you're successful, more assignments will follow. You'll have your mercenaries back, those who survived and I will provide you with funds to recruit more. You will take some of my troops as well. I give you an overall command but you'll be watched by the people I can trust. And word of advice, try to stay far from Mazaeus, Amyntor was he protégé and since he can't be upset with me, his anger will be directed towards you and your family. If I wasn't the Great King, I wouldn't want to end on his bad side. I will take with a grain of salt his complains about you but I will never disregard them completely; as it stands now, I trust him more than I trust you."
"Of course, Great King," Mentor vehemently confirmed his agreement with this arrangement, "I am aware how much you value Mazaeus. I will try to gain his affection…. later, when Amyntor's death is a forgotten affair. Also, I know that my brother-in-law is a wise man and will use this chance to repay your generosity by all means possible, however," Mentor paused trying to emphasize the meaning of his next sentence, "if for some reason he is not able to appreciate your kindness, you only have to let me know, and I will deal with him accordingly, family or not."
"Good to know that my money can buy such a devotion," coldly stated Artaxerxes, "I will keep it in mind."
"If I may ask for a favour?" dared Mentor.
"What is it?"
"I wish to marry Barsine, Artabazus daughter," started the Rhodian, "though Artabazus is married to my sister, I am not sure how willing he is going to be to give away his only daughter in marriage to somebody who is already his relative. He might be inclined to seek different marriage alliance and who knows where that alliance may lead. I hope to secure your approval and then Artabazus will have no choice in the matter."
"I see I didn't lose much by killing Amyntor, you seem to be not only capable general but a skillful courtier as well. You have my approval. Anything else?"
"I overheard the guards talking…," tentatively continued Mentor.
"About?" sharply asked Artaxerxes.
"The sudden death of one of your favorite eunuchs, Nazames, I think? The poor boy drank too much wine, I think….."
Mentor saw a momentous shadow to cross the Artaxerxes' brow. Even the Great King couldn't control the deadly rivalries inside his harem. The poor boy couldn't contained his pride at being summoned to the king's bed almost exclusively since he was first introduced to Artaxerxes. His boasts didn't sit well with those who were less fortunate in king's favors but were around for a longer period of time. They cornered the youngster and forced so much wine into his throat that he choked to death.
"There always will be another eunuch," Artaxerxes stated calmly.
"If I may suggest you a very suitable candidate?"
"It seems you have more talents that I was aware of," said Artaxerxes not without irony, "whom do you have in mind?"
"Hephaistion, Amyntor's son. I only saw him once, he came with a group of boys to see the prisoners. His beauty, even at his young age of ten years old or so, overshadows that of Apollo himself. If you have him castrated, skillfully, and with a proper training, you will forget Nazames and everybody else who ever caught your eye. Amyntor will serve you after all," smirked Mentor cynically.
"I will keep your suggestion in mind," Artaxerxes informed his new commander. "Now, you will be taken to your new tent and doctor will treat your wounds. Here is Narash, one of my very trusted eunuchs. Though he was never good in bed, he has other, far more important abilities. He will serve you now and from now on you will communicate with me through him. He will follow you to Egypt as well. You will find his skills most useful."
"My gratitude knows no boundaries," in the firm words announced Mentor, "I will give you no reason to regret your choice."
Mazaeus yawned and considered going to bed. He was up from the early morning and the next few days were going to be no less busy. His musings, however, were interrupted by the servant who announced that the special courier from Artaxerxes just arrived and wished to talk to him immediately.
"Let him in," shortly ordered the satrap suspecting that his plans for the early retirement to bed were not going to materialize.
The messenger was brought in and after the short exchange of official greetings, the courier announced that the Great King wished Mazaeus to join him at the private breakfast next morning. Artaxerxes took informal breakfasts very early.
"Tell the Great King that I was overjoyed at his invitation and will join him as requested," Mazaeus announced formally and dismissed the messenger.
The satrap turned to one of his servants, "Send somebody to commander Ardara to bring him here now and prepare for me to leave the city immediately after his arrival. I am returning to the camp tonight."
An hour later, giving instructions to his second-in-command and surrounded by enough guards to insure his safe passage to the camp, Mazaeus left Sidon. As much as he was tired at the moment, he figured out that making the journey now and spending night in the camp was a better strategy then leaving matters for morning and risking some unexpected events to delay his audience with the king.
It was almost midnight when Mazaeus stepped inside his lavish tent in the camp. Only the Great King had a more luxurious accommodations.
"Prepare a bath for me," he ordered Kamarta, his Chief Steward, "and I have an early breakfast tomorrow with the King, at his usual time. Make sure to wake me up early enough and have everything ready. This is all for now," Mazaeus said but noticing a certain hesitation from his attendant, asked, "What is it?"
"I am afraid you have some sort of the visitor, I found him hiding inside the tent. I have no idea how he got in without being noticed but…. I didn't want to take any special measures before talking to you."
"Some sort of the visitor?"
"It is that Greek boy, son of your guest Amyntor. He has an absolutely unpronounceable name."
"Ah, Hephaistion; why was he hiding in my tent?"
"He refused talking to me, said his father sent him, the boy is rather shaken, I think something happened to him, or to his father."
"All right, bring him now to my bedroom while somebody is preparing a bath for me. How long he's been here?"
"I discovered him yesterday evening and let him stay. I thought of sending you a messenger but then decided against it, knowing how busy you were and you were supposed to return tomorrow. I let him sleep in my quarters. Nobody knows he is here."
"Wise decision," said Mazaeus with frown.
"I hope so but it is not all. I sent one of the servants to Amyntor's tent under the pretext to inform him when you're back and invite him to join you at the evening meal next day. Great Ahuramazda gave me the wisdom to instruct the servant not to interact with anybody else. The Macedonian General wasn't there but Sisiwa was and also a number of guards."
"Sisiwa from Harem? What did he want?"
"He was looking for Heba…tion, the boy."
"Hephaistion. Why he was looking for him?" asked Mazaeus knowing perfectly well that there was only one answer.
"Great King orders, apparently. When he didn't find him in Amyntor's tent, they continued to search for him in the camp. Of course, Sisiwa would never dare to search here while you're away but if he became aware that you've returned…. What should I do if he comes here?"
"Tell him I am busy," said Mazaeus. "I will now go and talk to the boy."