Part XIII
Philip stared dispassionately at the body of the second dead Epirot soldier. Unlike his predecessor, something had been gained with his death. The new information did not ease Philip's mind either, for it had only confirmed the thing that he most feared; Olympias' involvement. The woman was mad and needed to be sent away. Far away where her poison could no longer taint their son because, regardless of Attalus' grumblings about the availability of his niece and what fine sons they could bear together, Alexander would be the one to succeed him. Though still prone to the hotheadedness of youth, Alexander had certainly proven his worth in the past few years. Another few years and the boy would be a force to be reckoned with.
"What will you do?" Amyntor demanded, coming to stand beside him.
"At this exact moment I do not know," Philip admitted with a sigh. "I know what must be done, but am not entirely certain how to go about it."
"What will you tell Alexander?"
Turning away from the scene of the torture, Philip stared back towards the camp. "The truth. He deserves as much."
What neither of them voiced was the extreme likelihood that Hephaestion knew of Olympias' involvement in what had been done to him. That viper was not one to let her deeds go unnoticed. And since they had learned from the soldier that Hephaestion was not meant to have left the mines alive, she would not have bothered to hide her role from her victim. With some of his own pages involved, Philip could not help but wonder just how much influence his insane wife wielded.
xxxxxxxxxx
He looked up as Alexander entered the tent, forcing himself to smile at his lover. It was not that he was not genuinely glad to see Alexander, but rather that he regretted the strain he could see so clearly lining his features. Alexander looked utterly exhausted and he knew that he was the reason.
"You look better," Alexander murmured as he came to sit next to him on the cot; close, but not close enough to be physically touching him. "Another day and we should be ready to leave."
"That brute of yours must be positively livid having been in one place for so long," he tried to jest, tilting his head towards Alexander's.
"No more than Xanthus at this point," Alexander returned, smiling briefly.
He paused at that, ashamed to admit that he had not given the fate of his beloved mount any consideration. He would not have been surprised to learn that Xanthus had been slaughtered given his own fate. It would have been difficult to explain the horse's continued presence in the barrack stables when its master was meant to be in Athens.
"Was anything done to him?"
Alexander was quick to shake his head. "No. He was sold to a horse farmer near Thermia. We found him while we were searching for you. Or, rather, Bucephalas did. He must have caught Xanthus' scent because he put up a huge fuss and refused to go further."
"I had better reward the brute for that or he will become even more insufferable," he murmured, doing his utmost to make his smile appear genuine. The wistful sigh that followed was not forced. "If I did not think I would fall off I would ride from here tonight."
"We could do it," Alexander responded immediately, leaning forward to brace his forearms against his thighs. "It will be full dark in another hour and provided this is what you truly want we could leave. You could ride with me until you feel strong enough to handle Xanthus on your own and with a whole night ahead of our fathers it would take them time to find us."
It was so utterly tempting. He knew that it was nearly impossible for them to succeed, but the chance to be away from so many watchful eyes was appealing.
xxxxxxxxxx
Arybbas had been a fool. A young, naïve fool who had had no idea of what a man was capable of when his life was in jeopardy. But then he had never seen a true battle or the desperation that it could create in a man. So instead of simply killing the prince's Athenian pet cleanly, he had toyed with the man. Toyed with a man who had spent a month in Hades and had been stripped of every ounce of humanity he had once possessed. Hephaestion Amyntoros was little different than a mad dog that needed to be put down. And though the duty was no longer his to fulfill, he was certain that there were others who would. His queen would not be defeated by a mere Athenian. His queen was descended from Achilles himself while the Athenian's blood was likely tainted by sniveling sophists. He was not fit to share the battlefield with the prince let alone his bed.
With luck, Hephaestion would never return to Macedon.
xxxxxxxxxx
Even as he had approached the tent, Ptolemy knew that something was not right. The fact that it was quiet was not strange; given Hephaestion's condition that was to be expected. It was the stillness that troubled him. It felt utterly devoid of life and he could only offer up a quick prayer to the gods that Alexander had not done anything foolish.
As expected, when he entered the tent, Ptolemy could find no sign of either Alexander or Hephaestion. Worse still, the bedroll Alexander had been using was missing along with the box of medicines the physician had taken to leaving in the tent.
Alexander and Hephaestion were gone.
Scrubbing his hands over his face, Ptolemy struggled to come up with his next plan of action. Reporting his discovery to the king was what he knew he should do, but there was something that held him back. Some unknown voice coaxing him to wait. For what, exactly, he could not be sure. So instead of going to the king, Ptolemy instead chose the corral where the horses were being kept.
"Ptolemy, wait!" Leonnatus shouted, jogging towards him. "Where are you off to in such a hurry?"
Never breaking his stride, Ptolemy shook his head. "It is better if you do not know, my friend. Go back to whatever business you were doing and forget that you saw me."
"You cannot expect me to stay behind with such ominous tidings as that," Leonnatus snorted as he fell in step beside him. "Alexander has done something, has he not?"
"He appears to have vanished and taken Hephaestion with him."
"Zeus' cock," Leonnatus cursed under his breath. "He has less sense than that half-wit brother of his. Do they really think they will get far?"
xxxxxxxxxx
Hephaestion's breath was warm against his shoulder. Simply getting Hephaestion unseen to the horse corral had taken all of his lover's strength so for the time being they both rode Bucephalas while Xanthus trailed behind on a lead line. For all the antagonism Hephaestion and Bucephalas exhibited under normal conditions, that night the horse was oddly subdued. He had stood patiently while Alexander had helped Hephaestion to mount, shifting in accordance with Hephaestion's unbalanced movements.
Having been responsible for the location and rotation of the sentries when they had first made camp, Alexander had been able to select a path from the camp that had allowed them to leave unseen. Within minutes Hephaestion had drifted into a light doze.
For the life of him, Alexander had no idea where he and Hephaestion were bound except that it was away from Illyria and Epirus. Not long ago he would have instinctively gone to his mother's people, but no more. He could not trust his mother. Not if there was even a remote chance that she was involved in what had been done to Hephaestion. And, loathe as he was to admit it, there was simply too much evidence against her.
His mother would have killed Hephaestion and cleaved a bloody chunk from his own soul in the process. She had known the extent of his relationship with Hephaestion and had to have been aware what the consequences would be if Hephaestion were taken from him. He loved Hephaestion just as Achilles had loved Patroclus and likewise it would have been inevitable that he would soon join Hephaestion had his love died. Alexander knew that he would not long survive his beloved. It was their fate.
Olympias had known all of this and still she had tried to have Hephaestion removed because she felt threatened by their love.
Bucephalas' reigns slipped from Alexander's suddenly nerveless fingers.
"Hephaestion loves me, Mother, and I love him. There will be no room in my heart for another. I will not bed these women you continue to send to me, nor will I marry. Hephaestion is all that I need."
He had caused it. Hephaestion had said that there had been a price to pay for their love, but Alexander had not believed him and had thought that it was only the lingering effects of the fever. But Hephaestion had known. Hephaestion had known and had kept it from him, likely in some foolish attempt to protect him.
"I did this."
xxxxxxxxxx
"Where is that boy? I will strangle him with my own two hands!" Philip raged as he stalked about the camp. "Has he lost what remains of his senses?"
"He is scared. He has already nearly lost Hephaestion to this foul mess and to Hephaestion himself and now he is being told that they will be separated when we leave here. Alexander is simply reacting and will return when he has thought things through."
Philip glowered at Cleitus. "You had better not know anything of this."
"Only what I have seen over the past few days which is that both Alexander and Hephaestion are barely holding themselves together."
For all that he wanted to deny Cleitus' words, he knew they were true because he had seen the exact same thing. He had been able to see himself just how much Alexander had been suffering. His body may not have been as ravaged as Hephaestion's, but it was clear that he was floundering just as much as the other boy. And try as he might to understand it, he simply could not. Even with all of the wives, mistresses and boys he had had over the years, Philip knew that he did not love any of them the way Alexander loved Hephaestion.
Still, much as he may sympathize with the boys' plight, Alexander was a prince and could not act out on his emotions.
xxxxxxxxxx
Amyntor seethed with silent fury. Alexander was placing his son in unnecessary danger by taking him away from the camp. Illyria was a dangerous territory and Hephaestion was injured. If there was any mishap his son might not be able to protect himself. Alexander could get his son killed. Even more frustrating was the fact that he knew Hephaestion had been a willing participant in this disappearance. The boy was fiercely loyal and entirely too sentimental. He would not have taken well to the knowledge that he would not be returning to Macedon longer than it would take to reach a port.
"We can only hope that the young fools had sense enough to take one of the main tracks from here," Philip said as he took the reigns of his horse. Amyntor was still waiting for a groom to bring him his own mount. "Neither of them knows the area so it is likely that they would stick to one of the main paths until they come to a village. They would be mad to attempt anything else."
The groom had just arrived with his horse when Amyntor noticed a movement off to the side, just beyond the light cast by the torches. A moment later, a familiar black stallion appeared bearing two riders, a second horse trailing behind.
Alexander and Hephaestion had returned.
"By all the gods, boy, what is going on in that head of yours?" Philip demanded, thrusting the reigns to a nearby groom and stomping towards their sons.
There was none of the defiance Amyntor had expected to see in Alexander's posture, nor was there any sign of an escort which meant they had likely returned on their own. If anything, Alexander looked thoroughly cowed by some emotion that was weighing heavily on him. Hephaestion, Amyntor was pleased to see, was awake, blinking owlishly as he sat with his arms wrapped around Alexander's middle.
"I am sorry, Father," Alexander whispered when he stopped his beast of a horse before Philip. "I acted childishly and will not do it again. I will abide by whatever you command."
Hephaestion said something then, but it was spoken too quietly and into Alexander's ear so none but the prince heard the words. Whatever Hephaestion had said, it did not seem to ease Alexander in any way. His expression became more pained and he squeezed his eyes shut tightly.
Equally aware of Alexander's internal agony, much of Philip's anger appeared to have evaporated. His displeasure was obvious, but no longer quite so volatile.
"I have half a mind to keep you both on opposite sides of the camp," Philip sighed at last, scrubbing a hand over his jaw. "It would serve you right after such foolishness."
"If that is your will, Father, I will—"
"Quite, boy, I have not finished," Philip interrupted him, staring levelly at Alexander until he was sure his son would keep silent. "So, even though I know it is what I should do, it is not what will be done. I do not plan to be here for more than another day so it seems a wasted effort to keep you apart. Besides which, you will be separated soon enough when Hephaestion returns to Athens."
Amyntor would have expected some kind of reaction, but both boys were utterly silent. The only noticeable reaction they gave was Alexander's left hand coming to rest over top of Hephaestion's.
xxxxxxxxxx
There was something amiss. Something had happened after they had left the camp only he did not know what it was. He had not realized that they were returning until they had reached the very edges of the camp. There had been no escort with them which could only mean that Alexander had decided to return of his own free will. Just why Alexander would choose to do that he could not figure out.
"Easy now, lad," his father murmured as he reached a hand up to help him down. "Time to get you back safely to your bed."
He allowed himself to be helped down and immediately looked back up to where Alexander remained seated astride Bucephalas. It was easy to see that the horse was agitated, no doubt mimicking his master's mood. Try as he might, though, he could not figure out what would have caused Alexander to turn round.
"Alexander," he called as his father started to lead him away.
Alexander looked at him for only a moment, but it was enough for him to see the utterly desolation on his love's face.
Alexander knew.