They rode, at a gallop, in to the forest, then Alexander had to slow to a canter as they manoeuvred around the trees. They ducked under branches, the icy snow falling upon them, keen to put as much distance as they could between themselves and the village. Hephaistion wrapped his arms around Alexander, resting his head upon his shoulder, the fur from his hat giving warmth.
Alexander had hoped to find tracks from the new tribe that they could follow but there were none to be seen. He had followed his previous route, or so he thought and he cursed himself for misjudging the distance, for choosing the wrong track. So, all he could do now was steer Bucephalus through the forest and make ground, not stop and search for them. Perhaps it was not such a bad thing, after what they had just been through, Alexander felt he had done with Illyrians.
After a time, they came across a fast-flowing brook, and Hephaistion pulled on Alexander's chiton and asked him to stop for a moment. He jumped down and walked carefully down a slope, to the water's edge, pulling off the remains of the rope binding around his wrist, and taking the hated noose from around his neck, throwing it aside before cutting himself free of the shackles, looking up and smiling at Alexander as he was finally rid of all the trappings of his captivity. He crouched down and put his left hand in to the water, gasping as he felt its icy grip, biting his lip as he held it there.
"What is it?" Alexander asked, jumping down from Bucephalus, walking over to him, trusting the stallion to stay put.
Hephaistion stood up, looking at his hand, there was a deep cut on his palm, underneath his thumb, blood welled up from it. "I cut my left hand when I turned the dagger. I've sliced it, but it isn't much." He used the dagger to cut the hem of his chiton, as best he could, so as to make a bandage from it." He glanced up at Alexander. "You do realise the trouble we are in?"
Alexander looked around the forest. It was quiet, except for when a clump of snow would fall from a tree. Snow lay on the ground, and though the sun peered through the branches there was no sign of a thaw. The air was chill and it would only get colder as the sun set.
"We were struggling before," Hephaistion continued, without waiting for Alexander to reply. "But now we have no furs to keep us warm, no way of hunting, no way to light a fire…" Hephaistion let his voice trail off, concentrating on tying a knot in the makeshift bandage.
"And possibly a tribe wanting blood for their god looking for us," Alexander added.
Stepping over to the edge of the brook, he crouched down and washed his face. "What if we head back to Dodona? That seems the best plan." He turned, and took the dagger from Hephaistion, who had instantly understood what he required. Wetting his face again, he began to shave.
Hephaistion crouched down by Alexander, looking across at him and smiling. "You always hate it when your beard grows," he said softly. He sighed, looking at the water, watching it flow by. "We might as well try to reach Dodona as anywhere. We can get water, and we have gone hungry before. We will just have to hope to find shelter on the way, and pray it does not snow for a few days yet." He reached up and his cold fingers, ran through Alexander's hair. "Surviving the nights will be our problem," he whispered.
Alexander finished shaving his face, and Hephaistion took the dagger back, washed his face and then began to shave. Alexander went to Bucephalus, who stood quietly. He spoke gently to the stallion, asking for his strength to get them to safety.
He shivered against the cold.
Hephaistion stood up. He turned and looked at Alexander and walked up the slope towards him, embracing him. Feeling Alexander shiver, he pulled off his hat and placed it on Alexander's head and grinned. "We can share it," he said. "I think you are colder than I am, at the moment."
This time, Alexander's hand ran through Hephaistion's hair. It fell in soft layers, highlighted by the winter sun but only came down to his neck now, no further. He had loved to twist it around his fingers, to see it framing Hephaistion's face, falling down his back.
"It will grow again," Hephaistion murmured.
"We should have been more careful," Alexander said.
Hephaistion nodded in reply, then kissed Alexander, before stepping away. "We'd best get going," he said, watching as Alexander leaped on to Bucephalus' back, then reached for him.
There was a comfort in being together. They said nothing more as they rode along, both aware that their dreams of the future might be lost to the cold, on a bitter Illyrian night.