Title: "Battle for the Hindu Kush"
Author: Baliansword
Rating: T for Teen
Chapter: 6 of 9, "The Weakened Empire"
Pairings: Alexander / Hephaestion
Summary: Following the movie, what happens during and after the infamous battle for the Hindu Kush, with extra history hopefully thrown in. It shall present four different views, or angles, of this battle. It will end with Alexander's decision to return home.
Warnings: Mild language, sexual content, and violent battle scenes.
A/N: Thank you so much to everyone that has reviewed. I appreciate all of your comments, etc. I know I am terrible about replying to them, but please know, you are all great influences on my work.
Dedication: HavenRain, who is a fan.
H/N: This takes place during the battle for the Hindu Kush. If you are following the movie, it is the battle with the elephants. I have in my own way made sense of some of the scene, because the way it is shot does make it hard at times.
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The surgeon's room…
Hephaestion lay silently, his eyes closed, his breathing faint. His body knew that breathing in deeply was not the wisest idea. It was clear that his chest was badly hurt. As he lay silently, the surgeon continued his work, glad that the pain had forced his patient into a world of darkness. If he could feel anything going on, he made no sign of it. He did not even twitch in the slightest.
The surgeon pulled the knife away from the wound and then picked up a thin strand of horse hair. In times of need, he would boil these, and use them as stitches. Today's battle had been one of those times of need. He had a hundred more men to see at least today, but needed to tend to Hephaestion. His first priority had been Alexander, as had all of the surgeons and physician's priority been. They'd all tended to him first, in a group, in order to give him the best care. Now, his priority was Hephaestion. At least it had been when he had heard that Hephaestion too was injured. They all knew you had to save both to save one.
It was a good hour later when someone entered the private tent. It was Cassander, who had never been one to come and visit the wounded. Cassander approached slowly, as if he were not sure if he wanted to see what was going on. Perhaps he was faint with blood, yet, the surgeon doubted it. Barbarians, like Cassander, knew nothing of the body. They knew, of course, how to disassemble it. Yet they did not know how to care for one, how to fix wounds, or how even to care for the injured. Perhaps this barbarian did not want to see this, merely because he knew someone just like him had done this damage.
"How is he Themus," asked the warrior. From where he stood he still could not see much of Hephaestion. He kept his distance, as if waiting for an invitation to step forward. Themus glanced up, not used to hearing his name, and motioned with a quickly freed hand to come forward. Cassander did so and only then did he look down at the brutality that covered Hephaestion's body.
"It is nothing to worry about at the moment," Themus told him. It was a good thing that Hephaestion was sleeping. For his next words were not coated with any sweetness. They were the words of a surgeon; of a man that had already seen too much death on this day. "Should he become ill, it will take some time. A few days perhaps. He will die then, but, for now he sleeps like a babe."
Cassander's eyes wandered over Hephaestion's body, which was in complete nudity. He had not seen Hephaestion in this manner in years, since they were boys, and to see it now felt odd. He had to hold back an embarrassed blush. Well, at least now he could see what Alexander saw of him behind closed doors. His eyes glanced at Hephaestion's thigh, which was pale for the most part, yet bloody by the sewn cut. For a moment he thought about reaching out and touching him, but stopped. Instead he looked at his chest, which was bruised over his entire torso. From his first rib to his navel he seemed to be a discolored mess. This was what caused him to breathe faintly earlier, he knew, but he had not noticed it was so terrible.
"Can he breathe alright?"
"He seems to be doing fine," Themus replied. "Considering the impact it must have been. Philip and I believe it is this thigh he will have to worry about. He has lost a good deal of blood. Any problems, as I said, will come in a few days though."
"Will he be able to walk?"
"Since when have you changed," Themus asked. He was now washing his hands and drying them with a blood stained towel. "I remember when you were a boy, and no one could get you to acknowledge that there were other men in this world."
"Things have changed since then. I am not the same boy that I used to be."
"Well," Themus continued with a quick laugh. "I remember setting your arm with Philip when you challenged Hephaestion to a wresting contest. One, of course, that was unsupervised. Ah, I only wish I could have seen it. Did you ever challenge him in battle again?"
Cassander did not answer; instead he shot the man a glare. He then took the gauze that Themus handed to him. The man began to sit Hephaestion up, and Cassander helped stabilize him. There were pages that should have done this. No doubt they were tending to injured soldiers as well though. Cassander held Hephaestion's shoulders while Themus rubbed an ointment over his chest, and then wrapped the gauze around him. Cassander placed Hephaestion back down and then looked over him once more.
"Will he walk again?"
"Anything is possible," answered the surgeon. "But, like Philip told you I am sure, he may never stand again. I would start concerning yourself not with him walking, but with him living through the week."
"Is there anything else we can do for him," Cassander asked, wanting desperately now to change the subject. Of course he wanted Hephaestion to live, and even to walk. For a moment, he recalled the fight, and the sight of the elephant knocking Hephaestion from his horse. Yes, he should have died. But, then again, statistically they never should have made it to the Hindu in the first place.
"Well," Themus paused. "I suppose that you could go check on Alexander. Philip should still be at his side. If you want to do anything, you should make sure they awaken together."
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Alexander's tent…
"Is there anything that I can do to ease the pain further," Ptolemy asked his king as he stood beside his bed. Alexander shook his head slightly, but continued to try to drink the water from the cup that Bagoas pressed to his lips. He felt as if he were dead. The wound to the chest had not been a pleasant one. In fact, it had nearly killed him. Philip was rejoiced at Alexander's luck, but had still scolded him. Alexander slowly opened his burning eyes, and then glanced at Cassander, who was just now entering the room.
"I thought….," he began, yet there was a long pause. To ease the pain, Philip had given him a good dose of some medicine. It helped with the pain, yet made him terribly groggy. He drew in a short breath and then went on. "I hoped you were…Hephaestion."
"No," answered Cassander in his usual toneless voice. "It is just me."
"Where is he?"
Ptolemy and Cassander both glanced at one another. Neither of them wanted to be the one to speak at this moment. Due to the long pause, Bagoas even glanced over at them from where he stood. Cassander forced the boy to avert his eyes though merely be snarling at him. Bagoas quickly looked away and Ptolemy and Cassander continued to debate one another silently.
"Hephaestion," Alexander asked again. Finally Ptolemy sat down on the chair placed next to the bed. Alexander turned his head, not knowing to expect anything yet. Surely he had seen Hephaestion on the ground. Yet, knowing Hephaestion, he had likely smiled his way through his pain. Cassander on the other hand poured himself a cup of wine and crossed an arm across his chest as he drank deeply. He no longer felt like being sober.
"Hephaestion was injured, Alexander."
"Yes…how…is he…"
"He is hurt badly," Cassander cut in when Ptolemy did not answer quickly enough. There was no use in his mind to choose words, as Ptolemy was trying to do. "His chest is bruised, and at least one of his ribs is fractured. There are likely more than that. His thigh, his thigh is the worst of all. He has lost a great deal of blood, and, he may not ever walk again. Philip and Themus worry that with the loss of blood he'll get an infection, and, there will be nothing in their power to help him."
"What," Alexander exclaimed, and quickly tried to sit up. He did not make it though. Such a sudden movement caused him a head rush, and he fell back on his pillow. Before he said anything else could be said, tears were rolling down his cheeks. He screamed, and they all knew the entire camp would hear.
"No," the king screamed, clearly thinking the worst already. Ptolemy shot Cassander a glare over his shoulder. The other merely shrugged, as if he had said nothing wrong.
"You are always telling me to be truthful," he whispered.
"Not now," Ptolemy spat back at him. He then turned his attention back to his wounded friend. "Alexander, he is strong. You are both strong. Please, you must calm yourself."
"I need to go to him. Help me up."
"No, not now."
"Ptolemy," Cassander warned from a corner of the room. "Help him up, or I will."
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A/N: Here is the latest chapter. Let me know what you think. Again, I have to thank everyone who has reviewed. In fact, here are all of your names!!! HavenRain, Norrsken, Arlad, Yolass, Joshavius, Poetic Tragedy3790, A Horse Called Hwin, Faceted-mind, and Lysis. (Note that those were in no special order!)