Authors Note—

I was thinking and the scene between Amy and Ty in this chapter just came to me and I couldn't resist putting it in. It's not what any of you are probably thinking but I like to think it's a good one. I've also read the Iliad a number of times and I adore it more each time I read it (I've actually just read it again and memorized a passage for English. We have to memorize a passage from a poem to present to the class) and somehow it just seemed fitting to put it in. It further builds on Amy's independence and defiant nature that she doesn't need a man in her life.

Anyways, hope you guys like the chapter… you better because I'm using the time I could be watching Alexander to write this. I could be drooling over Hephaistion (balcony scene… open robe… JARED LETO…::hyperventilates::) and then sobbing over his death, but I write this instead… no, just kidding.

Review!

Steph

THE UNBREAKABLE PACT

Chapter four— The Iliad

May 25, 1850

Somehow, the person reflected back to me in the mirror did not seem like me.

I had sat on the cushioned bench in front of the mirror since I had dismissed Clair that morning.

I reached up my left hand to brush a stray curl away from my eyes but my reflection in the mirror made me stop. I frowned as I shifted my hand and the sun caught on the stones embedded in the band on my finger. They twinkled merrily in the ray of sunlight and it made my frown deepen.

There was a timid knock on the door and I tore my eyes away from the ring and slowly lowered my hand to my lap.

"Come in," I said in the steadiest voice I could manage.

The large white doors opened with a slight creak, just far enough for the maid to step through. She bowed her head and clasped her hands behind her back as she seemingly addressed the floor. "Miss," she began, "the Mister Fleming requests your presence in the morning room upon your earliest convenience."

I looked into the mirror once more before standing up and smoothing down the dusky blue skirts of my dress. It was a simple dress with an edging of soft green lace. Clair said the color brought out my eyes.

"Thank you," I said. "I will see him now, you are dismissed."

The girl bowed her head again and stepped aside as I stepped out of the doors.

As I walked down the marbled halls, I kept my stride confident and my head held high, my eyes focused straight ahead and nowhere else. But even I could see the way the servants cast small glances in my direction before looking to the ground and waiting for me to pass. No longer was I to be Amy Fleming, the girl who looked kindly upon the servants in her home. No. Now I was Amy Fleming, soon to be the Missus Baldwin. Damn how a name could change everything. My left hand closed into a tight fist and my thumb held the ring down firmly to my skin, the shape of the stones no doubt imprinting on my thumb.

But I didn't care.

I didn't want his damned ring or his cursed name.

I wouldn't take any of it.

The pain in my thumb grew as the pressure exerted onto the ring rose.

I'd sooner take the pain and the possibility of a cut thumb then him.

How dare they think that they could arrange my marriage?

I stopped in front of the closed doors that led to the morning room and opened them without so much as a knock. I stepped though and closed them behind me softly before turning around.

Papa was sitting in a chair, reading over a letter. He looked up upon hearing my entrance and set the letter down on the table next to him and folded his glasses on top of it.

I bowed my head respectfully and added a curtsey because I knew it would spite him. Something had changed since yesterday. "You requested my presence, papa," I uttered softly, my eyes still focused on the floor.

I heard him stand more then I saw it.

"Come now, Amy. Is this how I am to be treated now?" he asked, a joke in his voice. I looked up to see a smile on the face that I had once loved and looked upon in kindness.

I moved my gaze from the rich gray eyes that mirrored my own perfectly and looked out the window instead. The sun cast a lovely glow to the perfect pastures and the horses grazing on the lush grass, basking in the sunlight. The sloping green fields dotted with trees met the clear blue of the horizon in the distance. I had it in my mind to escape to the outside later in the day.

I heard papa sigh when I did not submit an answer to his question.

"Sit, my precious daughter," was all he said.

I moved quietly to the couch and sat properly upon the very edge, my hands folded in my lap and my back stiffly straight. Papa sat in his chair once again and looked at me.

Everything inside the library was so silent for a series of moments that I could hear the clock above the mantle ticking away in its strong and steadily monotonous tune.

"Tell me what is the matter," papa said.

I found it difficult to believe that my answer was needed for that question but I gave it anyway. "I will not marry him," I said, defiance creeping into my voice.

Papa was silent for another moment. "And pray tell, my dear, just what your objections to the young Mister Baldwin are."

I was only silent, my eyes focused on a painting on the far wall that I did not really see.

"Mister Baldwin," papa continued, "is a fine, well respected gentleman. He is a wealthy young man who, dare I say it, is rather handsome. Or so I've heard. "

My eyes flashed in anger as they met papas own twinkling ones. His jokes would not relieve my mood this time though. Only one thing would. And it was one thing that I was determined to get.

"I will not marry him," I repeated, this time my voice was harder. "And you cannot make me."

It seemed that papa's good humor and good nature could only be stretched so far though. "Mister Baldwin is a wealthy young man whose alliance to you should feel nothing but honor. You raise yourself and your family by this union. Many young ladies would feel nothing but the honor that was due, were they in your position."

"And perhaps I would," I agreed without a thought to my words. "If I were a different woman. But I am not a different lady and I feel none of the honor of which you speak so strongly about, papa."

Papa stared hard at me. When he spoke, he voice was hard. "It would do you well to keep such opinions to yourself in the future," he advised. "Your fiancé," he accented the word strongly and it only served to hardened my gaze more, "is a good man and a gentleman and it will do you only good to show him respect."

"Perhaps," I agreed softly, "if Mister Baldwin was as honorable and as gentlemanly as you speak then I could show him respect. But I know our views on him are very different. To me he is the worst sort of gentleman in the world."

Papa was silent for a brief moment. When he continued, his voice was a good deal softer and his eyes kinder as they met my defiant ones, but his voice held just a tinge of barely suppressed anger. "Has Mister Baldwin harmed or compromised you in any way?"

Oh how I wished to say yes! But what good would it have done? It would not make the ring disappear from my finger and it would not take the engagement with it. It would only ensue for a speedier wedding.

"No," I said. "He has not. He has not lain a hand on me in the manners of which you speak."

Papa's eyes hardened once again. "Then there is no plausible reason for you to show him the blatant disrespect of which you have just voiced aloud to me by insulting the gentleman, and in turn your own father too."

I raised my head and opened my mouth to protest but papa stopped me with a wave of his hand.

"By speaking of Mister Baldwin in the way that you have," he repeated, "you disrespect not only him and his family but myself included. Do you think, Amy, that I, as your dotting father, could arrange the union between his favorite daughter and a man any less then honorable in every way?"

"If you knew me at all, papa, you would not have arranged my union with any man."

"Young women are not meant to say such things," he snapped and I immediately quieted my voice but did not soften my face. "You are free to do as you please for the remainder of the day, I will personally speak to your mother to inform her of my decision. You may do as you please, I might recommend a walk, as you seem so found of walking and the outdoors I'd say it would be most beneficial. My only request is that you think over what you have said to me seriously, for when the younger Mister Baldwin calls upon you, you will say no such things, though I have no doubt that you have already voiced your opinions quite strongly to him. Your duty is to this family and, by God, I will not see you shame it with your insolence. It will do you well, Amelia Rosalie, to learn this.

"You may go."

I sat still for a moment, his words still running through my head. Papa put his glasses back on and picked up his letter again, making it clear that I was, indeed, dismissed.

I left silently, without another word.

Never before had this happened to me.

Never before have I had my father dismiss me from his presence in such a manner.

But I left anyway.

----------

I decided that a walk outside would indeed be most beneficial.

The silk slippers with the leather soles that I preferred over the uncomfortable traditional shoes a lady wore made not a sound as I swept down the marble halls on the soles of my feet.

It was a relief to find no one in my bedroom as I slipped quietly through the door. I grabbed a simple, dark blue cloak and swept it around my shoulders, tying the velvet ties at my neck. I picked a bonnet up off of the dressing table and tied the ribbons around my neck and placed it atop my head. Mama would have a fit if I came back with a sunburn or worse… a tan. Proper ladies did not have tanned skin. It was a sign of the lower class.

Out of habit, I glanced around the empty confines of my chambers once more before kneeling in front of the trunk at the foot of my bed. I lifted the lid slowly and shifted carefully through the piles of personal items until I found the silk box at the bottom that had once contained the bonnet that was now on my head. I lifted the top with delicacy and lifted the pink babies blanket from the box. Carefully, I set it in my lap and pulled at the folds of the blanket. Once the folds of the blanket had been pulled away, my fingers clasped around a book bound in well used leather.

I refolded the blanket and placed it back in the hatbox before replacing the box in the exact spot it had been previously and covering it once again with the other items the trunk held. I securely closed the trunks lid before standing up.

My grasp tightened around the smooth leather binding of the book that was most precious to me. I tucked the hand that held it safely beneath the confines of my cloak as I silently left my rooms.

None could see the book that I'd purchased secretly on a visit to town with Soraya. Not even she knew of the book but would have been likely to swoon at the improperness of it. Mama would likely faint if she saw it while papa would be furious. My dear, written work of art would meet the anger of the flames in papa's study.

I was able to slip unnoticed from the house and continued around the pastures in the back. I only glanced around once as I reached the edge of a dense grove of trees to be sure that no one was following me. When I saw that I was utterly alone, I disappeared into the trees on swift feet.

During my short run, my bonnet had fallen from my head and was now hanging down my back in a manner that mama admonished and several strands of hair has escaped the neat bun on the back of my head. But I cared not for my appearance, not even my face that was undoubtedly flushed in a way that would have made mama draw me immediately back into the house. I'd never been particularly vain to worry about my appearance though.

I slowed to a walk and finally stopped underneath the leafy bows of my favorite tree positioned near the banks of the small stream that gurgled gently in the silence of the forest.

I sat on the ground under the tree and slowly removed the book from under my cloak.

The Iliad.

It was not a book proper for a lady, or so I'd heard from papa when I'd asked him about the copy I knew to be in the library. I'd glanced at it often times but never questioned it until I had secured my own copy and read my way through it time and time again. He'd told me that it was not a book to concern myself with and I never saw it on the libraries shelves again.

A proper lady did not need to read tales of war and of men. And she most certainly, not under any circumstance, should indulge in such a tale filled with war, and with hurt, pain, sorrow, violence and love, and the love between two men as lovers.

My fingers brushed over the soft leather cover and the words burned onto the simple cover.

I settled my self beneath the shades of the tree and let the sounds of the birds and the soft and constant gurgling of the stream relax me as I lost myself within the pages of the story I could have told aloud by heart.

It could not have been more then an hour, when the sun was high in the sky, and the steady drumbeat of a horses hooves broke my concentration. I looked up curiously, my book still opened to my page on my lap.

Through the trees, and growing steadily closer, was a big, richly black stallion covering the ground in long, graceful strides. The man on the stallions back sat straight with a balance that seemed impenetrable.

I expected the man on horseback to pass far enough away from me to not notice me but the man's head turned in my direction and he angled the horse in my direction.

I watched with wide eyes, not quite sure what I should so, as the man pulled the great, black horse up on the other side of the stream.

I looked closer at the man and suppressed a cry of rage. It was Mister Tyler, his enchanting eyes focused on me through the slight fringe of his richly dark hair that fell in front of his eyes from under the brim of his neat, black top hat. The black horse pranced beneath him and, much to my surprise and utter horror, Tyler gave the horse a nudge and the horse leaped across the small stream from a standstill with a powerful bound.

Horse and rider stopped a fair distance away from where I sat frozen on the ground. The magnificent horse arched its muscular neck and champed on the bit in its mouth but stood still as Tyler vaulted from the horses high back, landing nimbly on his booted feet with out so much as a stumble, the tails of his dark black coat fluttering behind him. He knotted the horse's reins at his neck and left the horse to graze, approaching me now, a confident look spread across his face. His eyes drifted curiously to the book still open in my lap and I slammed it shut with a sound that echoed through the trees in the small clearing and securely covered the title beneath my tightly woven fingers.

"Reading, Miss Fleming?" was what he said first.

"What are you doing here?" I demanded in the way that papa had recently advised me against.

"As it seems," Tyler began, stepping closer to me, a trickle of haughtiness evading his silky voice, "I was on my way to see you. But I've found you out in the woods instead. What is that you are reading, Miss Fleming?" he asked once again.

My hands gripped down on the book, pressing it harder into my lap.

"It is nothing," I said. "I was merely enjoying the fine weather and the peacefulness of the forest."

"So it would seem," Tyler murmured as he knelt down before me. I kept my eyes focused defiantly over his shoulder, not daring to look at the way the material of his breeches stretched across his legs. "But I believe I know you better then that, Miss Fleming. You are up to something, and I would say it has something to do with that book," he gave me a look that clearly said what he thought I was reading.

"I do not read of such things, Mister Baldwin," I said firmly, finally looking him in the face.

His closeness surprised me but I would not show it. He removed his hat and ran his gloved fingers along the brim.

"Ah," he said. "But all ladies read of such things."

"Then that just proves how little you know me, Mister Baldwin. For I do not read of the things of which you are implying," I countered.

"Then let's see the book," he waved a hand.

"That is none of you business, Mister Baldwin," I said coolly, but on the inside my heart was pounding. No one knew of my beloved book and I intended to keep it that way.

"I am sure that a proper lady such as yourself has nothing to hide," he countered smoothly, a smirk lifting the corners of his lips ever so slightly.

"Please be on your way, Mister Baldwin," I requested firmly. "I am sure you have better things to do then to provoke me so."

"As I have already told you, Miss Fleming, I was on my way to see you but I have found you here. Seeing as it was my intent to see you, I intend to do just that."

"What is it that you want, Mister Baldwin?" I requested after a moment.

"Is a man not permitted to call upon his fiancée?" he rose an eyebrow with his question.

"He may," I said simply. "But not when that man is you and the woman is me. You said you would not bother me but how soon you break that promise, Mister Baldwin."

He looked at me for a moment before replying. "How quick you are with you tongue, Miss Fleming, but I would advise you to choose your words more carefully in the future. I cannot recall making such a promise to you, Miss."

"You said—"

"I can recall quite clearly what I said, miss," he said firmly. "I said that I would not touch you," his voice rose. "And I have stood by that, have I not, Miss Fleming? I can also clearly recall saying that you were not to speak to me in such a way." His emerald eyed gaze challenged me.

"You said that you would not bother me," I said defiantly.

He sighed roughly and pushed a hand through his already messy hair. "Can you not see it, Miss Fleming? I am trying. As much as it pains me, I am trying to make things even just a bit more tolerable between us. If I have taken thus actions, can you not too?"

"I fail to see why things need to be more tolerable, as you put it, between us, sir," I said boldly.

His eyes darkened considerably in color and narrowed. "Perhaps, Miss Fleming, you were not taught as a girl that such impertinence in a woman is not flattering."

"And perhaps," I challenged him, "you were not taught as a boy when to realize that your attentions were not appreciated."

Tyler scowled. "The attentions you refer to speak of a more intimate nature, Miss Fleming. You can be safely assured that I harbor no such intentions towards you. But even I have no wish to go into a marriage without being able to at least hold a conversation with some resemblance towards civility with my wife."

"And you shall have those conversations, sir, if you leave me in peace and be on your way now."

"Perhaps we should start those conversations now." He left no room for argument as he went on, "Perhaps I have heard of the book you are reading, if not read it myself, perhaps we could speak of the book. But that would involve revealing the title of what you hold so closely, Miss Fleming."

"I do not wish to discuss books with you, Mister Baldwin," I said strongly, turning the book into my chest.

"Perhaps I could ask your mother just what it is you hide from me," he challenged. "I'm sure your mother knows what literature you indulge yourself in for I'm sure that it has passed her inspection, has it not, Miss Fleming?" He'd caught me and he knew it.

"You are insufferable, Mister Baldwin, to threaten a woman so."

"I can see your kind opinion of my character has not improved over the course of the night," he said wryly. "I only wish to know what you enjoy, miss, so that I might buy you a gift when appropriate."

My eyes jerked back to his face. "You will buy me nothing, Mister Baldwin, that will not see the bottom of the manure pile outside the stables or the bottom of the stream your horse thus leaped."

"Shall I receive no mercy at all, Miss Fleming?"

I remained silent and turned my face up to the branches above us.

"You may be difficult all you please, Miss Fleming, but I assure you that I can match and exceed any difficulty you give me. It will do you well to remember who is to make decisions for you in less then half a year's time. What is it that you read so diligently, Miss Fleming?"

I stared at him feeling, to my utter horror, tears of despair rising in my eyes. My fingers clenched the leather of my book now slick with sweat from me hands. I threw it at him, only rewarded a bit when it hit his chest. He stared at me for a second before his reached to the ground to retrieve it.

I got to my feet and walked away from him, so that I would not see his face as he discovered the secret of my chosen book. I walked instead to the edge of the stream, staring at my reflection in the crystal clear water. There was a snort behind me and a nudge to my shoulder. I saw Tyler's great black horse in the water behind me. I turned around and stroked his silky muzzle gently with one hand as the other spread across the side of his big face. The great horse lowered his head to my chest and nickered gently to me. It was most surprising behavior coming from a stallion but I had not time to dwell on it.

I saw Tyler coming up behind me in the horse's big, dark eyes. My book was held loosely in his hand.

"Your book, Miss Fleming," he said.

I turned around and saw his hand outstretched with the book clasped between his long fingers. I looked at his face but could see nothing there except seriousness. I quickly took the book from him and let my fingers fold around the comforting leather once more.

"You do not laugh at me," I noted after a moment of silence had passed between us. The black horse lowered his head to the stream to drink and I ran the tips of my fingers along his sloping flank.

"And why should I laugh?"

"It is what I expected," I admitted softly. "Either that or disappointment."

"I can not control what you chose to read, Miss Fleming. While I do admit that the Iliad is an interesting choice of reading for a woman, I cannot say that I am surprised. You hardly seem to fit the mold society had created for you, do you?"

My next question came before I could think properly. "Have you read the Iliad, sir?"

"I have," he said.

"And did you not find it most enjoyable?" I pressed. Even if it was Tyler, I could not pass up the opportunity to discuss my favorite book with someone for the first and most likely the last time. I doubted papa would be keen to discuss it once Tyler told him what he had caught me reading.

"I must admit that I did," Tyler said, facing the stream with his hands in the pockets of his riding coat.

"You will not…" I began, biting my lip, "you will not tell my mama or papa, will you?" I asked softly. I knew there was no way I could request such a thing from him but I did.

Tyler has silent for a moment, his back rigid. Then he turned to face me and gazed at me severely for several moments. "I don't see why I should," he said at last and I looked up at him in surprise. He shrugged his wide, powerful shoulders and strode past me, back towards the tree. "I don't see why I should make it my business what you read. You could read worse, though the Iliad is an interesting choice for a woman."

"I like it," I said firmly.

Tyler laughed briefly but it was a shallow sound. "Somehow that just does not surprise me."

I again faced the stream and smiled softly, though the smile was not for him. "I must admire Patroclus," I said.

"And why is that?" Tyler said, coming to my side once again. "Was he not pushed to the side when Achilles found love in Briseis?"

"I suppose so," I admitted. "But Patroclus died a gallant death worthy of a king. By adorning the armor of Achilles as he did and facing the Trojans when Achilles himself would not…" I trailed off and looked towards the clear sky visible between the tops of the trees.

"And Achilles swore to avenge Patroclus's death! And he did!" I continued to say with a smile. "Patroclus was given a grand funeral and athletic games in his honor. And Patroclus saved the Achaean ships from the Trojans," I added. "And without their ships the Achaean's would have been stuck in Troy and undoubtedly defeated."

"But Hector slay Patroclus! If Achilles had not been so proud as to step into battle himself…"

I almost laughed. "Achilles, perhaps, conducted himself in a rather childish manner of behavior but I can see the motives behind his actions, can you not, sir?"

Tyler was silent for a short moment. "I suppose. But he let his feelings, his resentment, towards Agamemnon for taking Briseis away from him harm only himself in the end! Achilles yearned to see the Achaean's—his own people!—defeated, did he not?"

"I'd would seem as though both Achilles and Hector made fatal mistakes, did they not? On the eve before Achilles was to return to the battle after Patroclus's death, Hector ordered his forces to camp outside of Troy's walls. Hector was impulsive, overly confident and prudent, and it led to downfalls in his army. He may have treated his victims, Patroclus included, with cruelty that was perhaps too rash but he fought in his homeland and showed great love for his wife and his children and was even forgiving towards the cowardly Paris! Even at the end, when inside Tory, after the rest of the Trojan army has fled from seeing Achilles again, Hector does not flee with them! Hector was a brave and mighty fighter, even though he did flee from Achilles at first he did not do the same in the end. You cannot deny it."

"Hector is one of the most tragic characters in the Iliad and yet you can feel for him?" Tyler's voice bordered on incredulous.

"He fought bravely and never gave up even when the gods abandoned him," I pointed out. "And he never turned violence towards Paris."

"You may be right," Tyler agreed, much to my vast surprise. "But one could easily argue that Achilles was the more tragic."

"Please," I said, "continue, sir."

"Achilles was a great warrior, as everyone can easily tell. But he let the flaws of his characters impede upon his ability to act nobly and with integrity. His pride was much too big and the rage that came when his pride was wounded destroyed him. And because Agamemnon took away his prized war treasure Briseis, Achilles abandoned his army and prayed for their defeat!"

"Achilles was driven by a thirst for glory!" I said with feeling.

Tyler turned towards me for the first time in our argument. "Yes!" he exclaimed. "But that same thirst only made his pride grow and he was willing to sacrifice everything for the glory of which you speak. Even after Patroclus is killed and he seeks reconciliation with Agamemnon, his lust for bloodshed and his pride still drive him above all else."

"But," I cut in softly, "Achilles returned the body of Hector to King Priam so that Hector could have proper burial rights and be honored by the gods."

"After Achilles allowed his wrath to take over him and commit brutal punishments on Hector's already dead corpse!" Tyler said.

"But his mourning and increased wrath over Patroclus's death dares to show that Achilles had a heart!" I paused and took a deep breath; Tyler was silent as he waited for me to continue. "But I should still have to say that I admire Patroclus greatly. So devoted to Achilles was he that he went into battle as Achilles. And his death was not in vain. It was in anything but that. And he deserves nothing but praise for his actions to stand by not only Achilles but the Achaean cause as well. For Patroclus in many a sense was Achilles."

"I have but to listen to you speak of it to know that you cherish the written work that is the Iliad," Tyler remarked once I had finished.

I allowed myself another small smile but tilted my head away so that Tyler would not see it. "It is true, sir."

"And you can read it? All of it?" I nodded. "And the love Achilles and Patroclus shared does not bother you?"

"Should it?" my voice was calm and level, just as it ought to have been.

Tyler was silent for a moment and he angled his body away from mine once more. "I did not know of the way a woman would react to a man taking another man to his bed." He paused once more. "It is not something many women speak of and most certainly not to men."

I knew that I should have dropped the topic there but I could not resist adding what I did next. "I believe that love exists, Mister Baldwin," I said softly, my fingers kneading along the cover of the Iliad clasped in my hands. "I do not believe that it matters who you find it with, I just believe that it exists. I believe that Patroclus too was Achilles," I said again, "and in that I believe the connection between Patroclus and Achilles ran deep. For one was not the same without the other, they made each other who they were. I see nothing wrong with that, Mister Baldwin."

Tyler did not respond, but I had not expected him to. Instead, the sounds of chirping birds and the gurgling stream picked back up again, except this time, the sound of the black stallions swishing tail, hooves stomping the ground to rid himself of the flies that buzzed around and his gentle chewing of grass added to the sounds of the serenity of the forest.

"I would like to thank you though, sir," I spoke up with a deep breath. "For not telling my parents that I have read the Iliad. It would displease them most greatly."

Tyler was silent once more and I fiddled with the ribbons of silk and velvet hanging around my neck. I traced my slippered foot over a wildflower that bloomed at my feet. I knelt down and plucked it out of the ground, twirling it around in my fingers before bringing it to my nose to inhale the fresh scent it gave off. I sat in the grass once more and opened my leather bound treasure to the middle. I gently picked the steam off the flower before laying the flower out flat on the page of the Iliad. I gently closed the book and smoothed a hand over the cover.

"I do believe, Miss Fleming," Tyler finally spoke up, the classic and customary trickle of haughtiness not absent any longer, "that we have had our first civil conversation, do you not?"

"It has more of an argument."

"Call it what you will," Tyler waved a hand, "but in the time we discussed the Iliad neither of us stopped to insult the other, even in the slightest."

"Perhaps you are correct," I murmured as my hand brushed gently over the tops of the soft, lushes grass.

a/n2: I think I got a bit too into this chapter but I'm actually quite pleased with it. (When was the last time I liked a chapter I wrote?) And Amy hasn't accepted Ty yet, she just has some stuff to think about but she'll still have her resentment towards him for at least one more chapter. But this chapter was LONG! 6,000 words!

No worries if your eyes just glazed over as you read about the Iliad. I find it lovely, the only poem I actually like and understand, but I understand it's not for everyone.

It's Achilles and Patroclus who fascinate me most and all the connections you can make with the Iliad and Alexander the Great. The Iliad was a treasured piece of writing my Alexander and he slept with a copy under his pillow. The similarities between the Iliad and Alexander never cease to amaze me. Alexander compared himself to Achilles, the mighty, strong and fearless warrior while Hephaistion, Alexander's closest friend, confidant, brilliant military strategist, favorite general and lover was often compared to Patroclus. As it was, Alexander vowed that should Hephaistion die before him, he would follow Hephaistion in death, even if Macedonia were to lose their king. Alexander was distraught following Hephaistion's death and gave him a funeral worthy of gods and built him a five story tomb. Alexander died eight months after Hephaistion. And there is the classic line from the movie when Princess Stateira, a Persian princess and eldest daughter of King Darius, mistakes Hephaistion for King Alexander and Alexander says "he too is Alexander".

Just a bit of history and what fascinates me so much. It might have bored you too but oh well. I adore the Iliad and everything that has to do with Alexander the Great but I know it's not for everyone. Alexander had an amazing dream though; something that was highly advanced for his day and age and something that still has not been accomplished to this day. He wanted to bring the east and the west of the known world at the time together and have all the different cultures of people live together peacefully…

I'll stop now… SERIOUSLY!

Don't want to put anyone to sleep before they've reviewed! (hint-hint-wink-wink) -Steph