Happy New Year!
Thank you very much for reviewing and reading my story. I am looking forward to know your opinions on the new chapter.
Notes:
Kykeon - both a beverage and a meal. It was a barley gruel, to which water and herbs were added; also sometimes cheese (as in Iliad) and honey (as in Odyssey) also added.
If you're interested, I have created a post on Wordpress website for this chapter with the maps and views of the places that Hephaistion and Alexander come across in this chapter. I may continue with this "tradition" for future chapters as they involve a lot of traveling. You can find me in Wordpress under the same name of Delos13 and the name of the post is "Images for Chapter 17". I hope you enjoy this new addition.
338 BC late fall from Passaron to Phoenike
In the morning, Alexander woke Hephaistion up at the latest possible hour. He almost force fed him a hot kykeon insisting that it will keep him warm and full and give a necessary strength for a long journey.
"I wish I could add some magic potion to boost your endurance as Circe did when she bid farewell to Odysseus," smiled Alexander hoping that his friend won't guess that he really wished for a magic love potion and not the endurance one.
"Do I look so feeble to you?" asked Hephaistion when he finished the bowl.
"Not feeble but I know that you're still tired after your long journey and had only a few hours to sleep. Today is going to be a long day. We'll have to cross into Chaonia and reach their main city of Phoenike. It would be an easy trot for our horses but for the mountains we have to cross. Charops, the Chief of Chaonians, will give us shelter for a few days, or at least my uncle assured me so. Let's go or my guides and Illyrian ambassadors will get nervous. I am afraid we need their good will for the journey."
"Illyrian ambassadors?" with surprise asked Hephaistion.
"Yes, I'll tell you later all about it."
"All right," agreed Hephaistion and fastening a woollen cloak around his shoulder, hurried after Alexander.
In the courtyard a party of already mounted men waited impatiently for their arrival. There were total of eight riders; Hephaistion assumed that at least two of them were Illyrians since they looked somewhat different in their clothing and wore rather strange sort of hats, all made of fur. Hephaistion watched how Alexander exchanged a few words with a bulky looking man, who gave just a cursory glance in Hephaistion's direction and then, raising his right arm above the head, made a circular movement, obviously giving an order to move out. Hephaistion picked up a knapsack that some servant, appearing as if from nowhere, handled him and jumped onto a spare horse. A moment later, Alexander mounted Bucephalus and, collecting his own knapsack, moved to the right of Hephaistion. The party silently rode out of the courtyard and into the sleepy streets of Passaron.
Hephaistion was surprised that King Alexander wasn't there to say his goodbyes but assumed it was done earlier. Previous evening he saw nothing of the city as he arrived when it was already too dark. Passaron hardly could have been called a city at all, it was more of a village with surprising lack of defence. King Alexander's palace, also quite a stretch of a name for the gloomy dwelling, resembled more a mishmash of haphazardly put together barracks, shops and half-finished sheds build with roughly hewn stones criss-crossed with wooden beams and patches of clay. But then again, everything was rough in Epiros, as Hephaistion remembered from previous day and panorama that was opening before his eyes as they left the inhabited area into the wild.
The road seemed a rather well traveled, it easily allowed two horses abreast and probably could fit a third one if necessary. Hephaistion travelled in pair with Alexander, they were in the third row and Illyrians right behind them. It was a chilly morning and Hephaistion was rather glad for hot breakfast the prince forced on him earlier. Still, he started to shiver from the cold; the warm cloak didn't safeguard well enough from the dampness of the air and they weren't moving fast enough to gain warmth from the motion. Besides, his tiredness from the previous journey, the semidarkness, partially due to the early hour and partially to the vast shade that the mountains were casting over their route, added even more to Hephaistion's misery.
"Why are we moving so slowly?" Hephaistion asked Alexander after some time. "I thought our guides knew the road."
"They do and this is why we're moving slowly. Lots of landslides here and ground is unstable. We have to be patient and, before you ask, there is no other road. But I think it's getting brighter and warmer," as if to test his claim, Alexander threw back his head exposing his face to the sun. He moved like that for some time and then, bringing his head back, smiled at Hephaistion, "You should try it too and you will feel Helios' kisses. They are warm and welcoming."
"And you are a romantic," Hephaistion smiled back. He was never exposed before to the emotional side of Alexander's character and he found it quite unexpected. After he had learnt from Perdiccas that Prince Alexander was none the other but the scrawny and rather neglected boy he met years ago in Pella's stables, he tried to revive half-forgotten memory but wasn't much successful at that. He felt rather ashamed of the fact since it seemed that Alexander not only remembered a lot of details but also tried to find him again. He thought almost bitterly that the gods decided to have fun at their expense by bringing them accidently together and then separating not once but twice.
The only thing that Hephaistion could remember from their brief encounter in Pella was that Alexander was outgoing and possibly mischievous youngster, ready and even impatient for some daring adventure. Alexander of Mieza, however, was a stiff and a self-righteous teenager who stuck his nose where it didn't belong. Alexander of Chaeronea presented yet another picture, that of victorious, proud and quick witted young man who knew no doubts except, perhaps, in the matters of love? Last evening he saw a bitter Alexander, disappointed and angry, ready to deny himself even the offer of friendship which he craved but thought himself not worthy. Hephaistion wondered how much else was hidden inside the soul of impetuous Prince of Macedon.
While living at Perdiccas' estate, Hephaistion dreaded the moment when summon will come from either Alexander or Perdiccas on Prince's behalf to join them at Pella's court. He felt ashamed at being relieved of such a dreary prospect materializing any time soon; he didn't want his respite to come at Alexander's, or anybody else's for that matter, expense. But, the choice wasn't his. Instead of uncertain future he was going to accompany the Prince into the unknown. It was a dangerous adventure but at least they wouldn't need to face it alone. Honestly speaking, Hephaistion would much prefer Perdiccas' company, he liked his easy humor, a dash of craziness and unpredictability of decision and the lack of any ambiguousness in their relationship – Hephaistion wouldn't hesitate to snuggle to Perdiccas if he was cold, doing so with Alexander would give him a pause. Prince did a poor job of hiding his interest in the relationship that was far from being simply friendly.
The sun was doing an equally poor job of providing mortals with light and warmth. As the party cautiously progressed on their rather perilous journey, Helios smiled on them for a few brief moments here and there but mostly decided to hide behind the clouds or mountain picks. In the afternoon the wind picked up and then the rain started to drizzle adding even more chill to the air. When the darkness started to settle, the rain joined the party with a ferociousness of someone unleashing a long contained temper. Hastily lit torches didn't stand a chance in the slanting rivers of water that were descending on them seemingly from all the directions not just from above. Hephaistion had to concentrate on staying on course and praying that his horse could see or feel the road better. He knew that the horses didn't like darkness and could easily become spooky but the mount under him was rather well behaved either because of familiarity with the road or because none of the other horses started panicking yet.
Hephaistion felt exhausted from tension, it became harder to concentrate on road and it felt like eternity since they left Passaron in the morning.
"Look, we are almost there," Alexander shouted into Hephaistion's face trying to get attention.
Son of Amyntor moved his head right and left trying to figure out where the Prince was pointing. He saw vague flickers of light somewhere in the distance to his left and his heart sank when he realized how far away those lights were. Luckily, he was mistaken, the town was far closer than he thought and less than an hour later, they found themselves at the base of the hill on the top of which sat Acropolis of the Chaonian capital.
"Why they couldn't build it on the plain?" grumbled Hephaistion who, though relieved that they at last reached their destination, didn't savor the prospect of riding up the citadel.
"So that it won't be easy for the Illyrians to raid them all the time," Alexander provided the logical explanation. "We are almost there, just a little more effort."
"Almost there" turned to be another hour and when Hephaistion at last stumbled into the room that was assigned to him, he headed directly to the bed.
"Wait, you have to undress, you're wet to the skin, you can't go to sleep like that, you'll get sick," Alexander, himself thoroughly drenched, started to help Hephaistion to take his clothes off. "Charops ordered water to be heated so that we can clean and warm ourselves, maybe you can wait."
"No, Alexander, please," Hephaistion pleaded, "I am cold, worn out and miserable, all I want now is to sleep, you can pamper me tomorrow."
"All right," agreed Alexander. He was cold and tired too but decided to wait for the bath; besides, he felt obliged to share a meal with Chaonian Chief, who seemed very eager to please and was a bit too insistent on showing off his hospitality.
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The next day started in a stark contrast to the previous one. The clouds and rain were gone and the late fall sky was uncharacteristically bright and sun mischievously played tags with a few fluffy and transparently white clouds that lazily moved across the sky. After a good night sleep that run well into the afternoon, heartily breakfast and new warm clothes Hephaistion felt refreshed and happy. Alexander, also in a rather cheerful mood dragged him outside to explore. Phoenike was a city bustling with life in comparison to Passaron. In addition to the impressive Acropolis, it boasted a lively agora, a theatre and a stadium, and a magnificent temple of Athena Polias, the patron goddess of the city.
"Chief Charops is throwing a Symposium in our honor this evening," declared Alexander and leaned over the fortifications examining the impressive walls of the Acropolis. He straightened back and added, "Tomorrow there will be a performance in the Theatre; they are staging Ion, apparently a very popular tragedy among locals."
"Isn't it strange that this Charops calls himself only a Chief when your uncle calls himself a King?" mused Hephaistion, "I must admit that Phoenike impresses me much more than Passaron."
"You're right," smiled Alexander, "Phoenike is much more impressive and I must guard my tongue not to call Charops accidently a Chief. He is King, all right; at least for his own people. But my father and my uncle, and my mother as well, always insisted that he is a mere Chief. Chaonians are a strong tribe, the most northern one from all the Epirote states but Molossians, to whom my mother and uncle belong, always considered themselves the most powerful and important one from other Epirote tribes. My grandfather, King Neoptolemus, though actually only a King of Molossians, called himself a King of Epirus and later his brother Arybbas did the same."
"So, what we're doing here, exactly?" asked Hephaistion.
"Here, in Phoenike? Just staying for a few days. My uncle's bodyguards will take us north to Apollonia, from where we continue further north into the territory of Taulantians, one of the strongest Illyrian tribes. Our Illyrian companions here are the special envoys of the Taulantian Chief, or I should probably also say King, Pleuratos."
"Why did this King send them to your uncle?" asked Hephaistion trying to commit to memory all of Alexander's explanations. He knew very little about the numerous tribes that occupied territories to the west and north of Macedon, mostly that they all were called Illyrians and were constant pain in the ass for Macedonian kings.
"Some five years ago my father led a rather successful campaign against this very Pleuratos. He was wounded and a lot of the Companions ended up dead, but he came back with a lot of booty and also managed to add some of the Taulantian territory, North West of Orestis, to Macedon. King Pleuratos' territory was reduced to the lands along the Adriatic. Now he is looking for the allies against my father."
"Your uncle seems like a strange choice considering that he owes his throne to Philip," noted Hephaistion.
"True, but my father is far and largely preoccupied with preparations to invade King Artaxerxes' territory. It looks like King Pleuratos thinks now is a good time to probe possible alliances. When my father is gone to Persia and most of Macedonian Army with him, Pleuratos intends to strike. He is afraid that if he starts making rounds of the possible allies when my father crosses to Persia, it will be too late. My uncle may owe his throne to my father, but he is an ambitious man. I think Pleuratos is offering him support against Chaonians and Thesprotians, another Epirote tribe, and maybe even more in exchange for cooperation. It seems that I happened to come to Epirus at the most appropriate time."
"So that your uncle, if caught red handed, can always say that he has nothing to do with conspiring with Pleuratos, it was all your doing?" guessed Hephaistion.
"Exactly!" confirmed Alexander and smiled at the knowledge that Theseus seemed to be very smart and quick-thinking.
"So, what instructions did your uncle give you?"
"Well, he didn't say to me directly "Go and conspire with Illyrians against Macedon", he is not that stupid. He realizes that though my father and I are at odds now and I was practically disinherited by his brother-in-law, the situation may change if my father wishes to reconcile. But, in case it doesn't happen and I manage to stay alive among Illyrians, especially if they are serious about this alliance and decide to use me as go-betweener, then he may persuade me to join the open revolt against my father by promising to install me on Macedonian throne. And, just as easily, he can sacrifice me in case something goes wrong."
Alexander picked up a small stone from the opening in the wall and started to scratch vertical lines on the smooth surface of the huge boulder. "One way or another, I had to go. He didn't want me to stay in Epirus. Of course, I could have come with my mother to Dodona or head further south. It would be pointless, though. I agreed to go to Illyrians; my uncle thinks he has a good excuse, whatever happens – it won't be his fault, I could have run away with Illyrians on my own and everything that happens afterwards is not his fault."
"Do you think your father will call you back?"
Alexander didn't answer right away but continued to scratch lines on the fortifications. Then, as if coming to some decision, he threw the drawing stone away and, looking somewhere into the distance, said with a hollow voice, "I don't know. It's possible that right now my father doesn't know either. He may decide to wait till I come back with repentance, or he may decide to send an assassin to eliminate me. Or, if he learns that I went to Illyrians, he can use it as an excuse for another invasion. It will deter his Persian campaign but he may decide that crashing Illyrians before he leaves for Persia worth waiting another year. It's impossible to guess. My father can be completely unpredictable. Like his marriage to Attalos' niece. He could simply tumble her at his own pleasure whenever he wished. Everybody knew he was screwing her already. I doubt even Attalos expected this marriage. There was no political necessity to marry the girl and all my father's previous marriages were political."
"Maybe he didn't want to alienate one of his generals before the long planned campaign. Besides, isn't Attalos married to the daughter of another important general – Parmenion?"
"Whatever," Alexander spitted angrily, "if fucking some prepubescent girl is more important to him than giving respect to his only viable heir, I will find my own kingdom to rule."
"I think Attalos' niece is a little older than that. Isn't she already pregnant?"
"I don't want to have this conversation now. Let's go the Agora." Alexander tersely announced and started to walk without checking whether his friend joined him or not.
Hephaistion sighed. He could understand Alexander's frustration and he was more than sure that whenever this topic will arise again, it won't elicit any more positive response from the disillusioned prince. But he already committed himself to sharing this exile with Alexander and wasn't going to back out now.
Alexander seemed extremely successful at completely shutting out the matters he didn't wish to attend to and dedicating himself at other tasks at hand. They went to the Agora and got themselves lost at the merchants' stalls and goods that were quite different from those that were available for purchase in Pella or on Euboea. Also, for the first time Hephaistion could watch how effortlessly Alexander was charming people into liking him. He would duzzle a new acquaintance with a brilliant smile and then proceed with questions about goods, about perils of the voyages, about risks and rewards of travels, be those distant across the dangerous seas and mountains or even the close ones from the nearby village or fort. Though he bought a few things as a thank you for the warm welcome and spent time, he was more interested in their stories than in their goods. Almost all vendors spoke some sort of Greek, some better than the others, and both Alexander and Hephaistion had no problems communicating, but here and their Hephaistion could hear Alexander speaking short phrases in different languages, not Macedonian for sure. Hephaistion assumed one of them was Molossian which Alexander probably knew because of his mother and because Hephaistion could understand a words or two that bore some similarity to Macedonian. Another was for sure Illyrian, since Alexander, making no secret of their future destination, asked the merchants to teach him some particular words.
After exploring the Agora and sharing a meal with a tavern owner who initially invited them to taste some local vine, Alexander expressed the desire to visit the temple of Athena and immediately a few local boys volunteered to take him there.
"Do you speak Illyrian?" asked Hephaistion when, after visiting the temple and the stadium, they headed back to Charop's palace to get ready for symposium.
"Not really," Alexander shook his head in negative motion. "I've learned some from Cynane, the late Queen Eurydice's daughter, when my half-sister deigned to play with me. She is a few years older than I and was brought by her mother in the Illyrian traditions where women, especially of royal descent, learn to ride and fight from the very young age."
"Queen Eurydice? I don't understand," admitted Hephaistion, "your father married Attalos' niece less than a month ago."
"No, not that Eurydice," Alexander realized that his friend wasn't much familiar with the history of Macedonian royal house and started to explain. "When my father just became a King, he inherited from his brothers Alexander and Perdiccas a weak and submissive position in respect to Dardanian state, that's one of the strongest amoung Illyrians, ruled by Bardyllis. At the time Macedon was very weak; it was surrounded by stronger enemies who were eager and ready to devour us. He couldn't fought them all at the same time, so he chose to confirm the alliance imposed by the force of arms on Macedon with Bardyllis years ago and agreed to marry his niece Audata. Though my grandmother, also Eurydice, was still alive, he made Audata to take a royal Macedonian name of Eurydice. Same was with my mother, you know, when he married her. Olympias is not her real name, at birth she was given one of Polyxena."
"I thought your mother's real name was Myrtale?" Hephaistion asked with surprise. He did knew a thing or two about Macedonian royal house.
"No, she was given a name Myrtale after she was initiated into the Mysteries in the Samothrace, where, actually, my father first met her."
"I see. Go on," nodded Hephaistion.
"Well," Alexander shrugged his shoulders, "when I was a small boy, I envied Cynane's strength and her ability to fight. At least I think I did. I vaguely remember how I gaped at her and imagined that she was a real Amazon. Once I told her that I would grow to become as mighty warrior as my ancestor Achilles was but I will be generous to her and won't kill her as Achilles killed Penthesilea. I remember how she laughed and teased me but it only whipped up my determination. Though she spoke Macedonian she often would switch to Illyrian, which she learnt to talk from her mother, in order to get rid of me and confuse me. She thought that if she would talk to me in the language I don't understand, I will lose interest and leave her alone. At other times, she would teach me Illyrian and tell me the stories she undoubtedly heard from her mother about the great Illyrian warriors and how they always beat Macedonians and other soft and week tribes to the south. We saw little of each other after I left for Mieza. Right before her mother died, my father married her off to Amyntas, king Perdiccas' son. Really stupid move, I think."
"Why?"
"Well," posed Alexander, "Isn't it obvious? Amyntas still has rights to Macedonian throne and Illyrians, though currently of far less danger than they were in the past, are always ready to stir a trouble. My father never should have allowed Amyntas to grow into adulthood. Macedonia suffered enough in the past from the royal family feuds that weakened her and exposed to enemies. My father spent his whole life correcting the mistakes his predecessors did, and now he created his own."
"Is this Amyntas ambitious?"
"Who knows? He professes the enjoyment of quiet pastoral life and says he would like nothing else but to spend his life cultivating different plans. He has an estate outside of Pella, at least father keeps him close. I've heard that Cynane is exasperated at her husband's inability to fight and even tried to teach him some technics but he was not interested."
"See, you shouldn't worry about Amyntas being a threat to Macedonian throne and…. to your own rights to it," suggested Hephaistion. "If I am not mistaken, it is the Macedonian Army who chose its next king. No way Amyntas might be considered by any of your father's generals as viable candidate."
"Unless one of them decides that he wants to be a king himself and first proclaims Amyntas as a puppet king to consolidate his own power. Illyrian King Bardyllis, which I just told you about, was born as a mere coal miner. If someone from such a humble descent can become a king, why not a respected general?"
"You don't know that."
"I don't know what?"
"That any of your father's generals plots to take his place."
"Why not? I would, if I were one of them. Especially Attalos now. He'll wait till my father is either killed in a battle or his niece exhausts him in bed; it can happen any moment or it even can be helped. Then he proclaims himself a king, marries my sister Cleopatra, and eliminates all possible rivals. He'll have support of Parmenion, whose daughter will become a Queen, and find a way to placate Antipater, Polyperchon and other prominent generals."
"You just told Amyntas will be first put on a throne of Macedon as a puppet king," Hephaistion reminded.
Alexander shrugged his shoulders, "There are many ways to become a king. I am sure Attalos considering a few of them at the same time. Not that I can discount Parmenion and Antipater of doing the same."
"Don't you think that your father will want somebody of his own blood to inherit the kingdom he brought to the pinnacle of power?"
"I thought so once but now… who knows," Alexander answered grimly, "he wants to be powerful during his own life, I am not sure he really cares what would happened after his death."
"Would you?"
Alexander fell silent considering the question. "I don't know. I want to achieve everlasting glory, like Achilles did, I want to conquer more than my father did, more than anybody did. I want to be remembered. But do I want to leave my kingdom to a son that may over shadow me? I am not so sure. Maybe my father thinks the same. He already knows I have a potential to become a greater general than he is, maybe he doesn't want it. Maybe he thinks it's better to leave his kingdom to a nobody, whose only claim to glory will be being a son of the most glorious king of Macedon. This is why he grasped this excuse to banish me forever from Macedon, maybe even he and Attalos planned it together."
"Alexander, you don't know it. You can't see plots and treachery everywhere, it is counterproductive."
"It is you who don't know what it is to be like me, to live your life among false friends and courtiers who flatter you when they think you're in power and then betray you if they think they can benefit from the act," Alexander argued angrily. "Not that my father is or was in any better position. He had to buy most of his so called friends, he…. you, Theseus, know nothing about struggle of those who are on the throne or close to it. You know about Amyntor, the only one whom my father ever considered a true friend?" seeing a shock on Hephaistion's face who didn't expect to hear his father's name, Alexander naturally misinterpreted his friend's reaction, "don't worry, when we were in Athens, Perdiccas admitted his own transgression, that is – telling you about my childhood obsession with Hephaistion, Amyntor's son. This Amyntor was the only person who my father ever trusted. I didn't hear it from him because he refused to talk about it. But from others, yes. They were through a lot together, saved each other's lives and yet, in the end, when it was convenient for Amyntor, he chose to betray my father. As simple as that. He ran away to serve the Persian king, hoping to gain a few gold coins as a payment for his treason. Luckily, somebody cut his throat before he could do any real harm, and I hope his executioners took a pleasure of torturing him and prolonging his sufferings. I am sure his son would grow into the same slithery bastard. I hope he is dead too."
It took Hephaistion all his will power to master a seemingly disinterested expression when he was listening to the curses that the prince was uttering towards him and his father. He could only hope that his voice was even and just slightly tinged with logical curiosity when he asked, "I thought you liked that boy and tried to find what happened to him. At least Perdiccas told me so."
"Yes, this was before…..," Alexander started but then decided to cut explanation short. "Enough of this sordid topic. Only weaklings whine about what Moirai throw their way. We'll create our own destiny, Theseus. Let's see what feast Charops managed to organize in our honour!" He broadly smiled at Hephaistion and pushed him in a friendly manner through the entrance door to the palace that they reached while having their not so cheerful conversation.