Alexander went to find Brandor. Now that he had agreed with Hephaistion, that the man should be chief, he wanted to see him with new eyes.
Brandor was just a member of this tribe. If the discussion at the campfire, on the first night they met, had been anything to go by, then he was not even considered for the role.
He smiled to think how quickly Hephaistion had assessed the man. Hardly knowing him before deciding his worth. The smile broke into a grin as he remembered how quickly Hephaistion formed a friendship with him. As the king's son everybody wanted to be his friend, if not by choice, because their fathers were pushing them to it. But there had been something in Hephaistion's eyes…an honesty, that the others did not have. From the first it was as though they had known each other before, in another lifetime.
Hephaistion's opinion had always mattered to him. He looked around the village suddenly realising a life as chief to this small tribe would not be enough for him. It was the challenge of gaining the Therici's acceptance that mattered. If he had been declared chief there would have been nothing after, except to unite Illyria and go on from there.
No matter what his mother said, about him being the son of Zeus, Philip was his father. They shared the same hunger, the same ambition, the same love of battle, of achieving more and more. The scars on his father's body bore testament to the hardships he had suffered to achieve his goals, but it was a price worth paying.
He clenched his fists as he remembered Attalus sneering at him, while his father ordered him to apologise. All the years of longing for praise, longing for acceptance from the man, only to find himself exiled while Attalus laughed on.
He walked through the snow. He was far from home; far from it all. He would not ask for another chance, he still felt it was not for him to apologise. His father had forced him from Epirus, would he try to force him from Illyria too? If his father went to Persia, without sending for him, would he return to Macedonia to claim the throne?
Taking a deep breath, Alexander put aside these concerns. He had a lot to be grateful for. Neither Philip or Attalus had somebody by their side, like Hephaistion.
He went to the stables and was lucky enough to find Brandor there with two other men, clearing out the muck from the stalls. He got smiles of welcome from them as he walked in, then feeling as if he should help he picked up a bucket of muck and carried it outside to where a frozen pile of it lay.
They expected his help, treating him as an equal. Alexander did not mind the work, the smell or the dirt. It was honest labour, but whenever he had jumped down into the mud before, to help free a cart full of supplies, or to give a hand to an infantryman, then he was still known for what he was.
He did more than was needed to prove his worth, fetching hay and straw, filling buckets of water, carrying in grain, checking the horses and repairing the stable wall where one of them had kicked a hole into it.
When the stables were done he helped to fetch wood then stacked it in a shelter just outside of the hall. He longed to go in and see Hephaistion, it was beginning to get dark and the smell of food cooking came from the hall. Brandor pulled on his arm, taking him back to the stables, where they lifted out the fresh muck and gave hay and grain to the horses. Only then did they stop, sharing a bucket of water to clean themselves, laughing when Alexander shaved his face, before heading into the hall.
OOXXOO
Hephaistion had talked to Talis for a while when Alexander left, wanting to know more about the Therici.
Seemingly, determined to feed him up, Talis had given him some bean stew, then some cold meat and a little bread.
After he had eaten, he wanted to go and find Alexander, but each time he tried the way was blocked by Talis, telling him he should not go out into the cold, that he should stay in the hall.
In the chief's room he found a sharp dagger and a comb. He had shaved his face then combed his hair. Running his hand down the back of his head, he felt for the length, hoping it might have grown a little since the priest cut it. Frowning as he realised it just touched his shoulders. He had nothing to tie back, nothing to braid. Alexander's did not look too bad, he wore his hair short and the priest did not have too much to go at, unlike his.
He went back into the hall and sat at a table watching the children play. A little girl, with long golden hair, eventually came to him, holding a carved wooden horse. She offered it to him, then took it back the moment he had it, unsure if he would try to keep it. Hephaistion spoke softly to her, and told her the story of the prince who tamed a wild stallion.
As he told the story, more children gathered around to listen, wanting to hear more about the prince. Hephaistion only thought for a moment before telling them of the evil queen and how she tried to bewitch the prince.
The little girl, who had come to him first, climbed up onto his lap, then held onto him as the evil queen's plan seemed to be working. He looked up to see Alexander come into the hall. Then smiled, as he said that the prince went far away, to a new land, and escaped from his mother, he was loved by all and never alone. The children cheered and begged for more, but Hephaistion said he was done for the day.
"Are you the prince?" the little girl asked, kissing his cheek before climbing down from his lap.
Hephaistion looked up at Alexander. "No, but I am his friend," he replied, looking back to the girl to see if she understood who the prince was, but food was being served and she had run off to get some.
Looking back to Alexander, he smiled. "Well, you smell of horses," he commented, standing up and embracing him.
"When you are well enough, I will introduce you to the joys of cleaning out stables," Alexander said in reply. "How are you?"
Hephaistion looked over to Talis. "A lot better, but my protector won't allow me outside just yet.
Bread, meat and jugs of drink were placed on the table. Hephaistion took Alexander's hand and led him over to the table where Brandor was sitting. They sat opposite him and Brandor looked up and grinned before speaking.
"He says that tomorrow all you have to do is clean the cattle out," Hephaistion laughed.
Alexander smiled. "When do they practice warfare?"
"Talis told me this," Hephaistion replied. "The young men are taught by the older men, after that it is up to them to find their own time to practice. The Therici try to live in peace and all that they want is to be able to hunt and to be able to defend themselves. From time to time the villages are attacked by other tribes, but that tends to happen in the spring or summer, not when the weather is bad. They are not doing well. Another tribe raided the village last summer and took some of the cattle, then the harvest was not so good."
"So, Fladon decided to go to the Glaucini."
"I wonder if we might still be there, or dead, if they had not come to the village?" Hephaistion watched for Alexander's reaction. He was going to argue the point but said nothing, he knew his words were true.
"They're good people, Hephaistion, I don't want to see them go without. If they could attack and defeat the Glaucini…" He thought for a moment. "If they had cavalry. Ask them why they do not."
Hephaistion asked the question, only to have laughter as the reply. They could not see how you could fight from a horse, feeling you lost strength by not standing firm on the ground. They knew the Greeks used cavalry, that they used their men as one unit, but in Illyria it was not their way. If Greeks attacked they would use their knowledge of the land to outmanoeuvre them.
"They don't see that cavalry is any use," Hephaistion said, seeing that Alexander was keen to hear the reply.
Alexander shook his head. "Then the hunting better improve, or else they will be in trouble by the end of winter.
Talis came over and slapped his hands on Hephaistion's shoulders, leaning over him to see that he had eaten. Hephaistion knew what he was going to say before he said it. He should get to bed.
One of Brandor's friends made a comment, saying that they would make sure they were not disturbed, then he grinned.
Hephaistion got to his feet, knowing better than to argue with Talis. If he protested he feared he would be carried into the room and put to bed. "I need my rest," he explained to Alexander, pleased when Alexander stood, although more comments came about the Greeks and their habits. One asked if it was love. He turned to the man who had spoken, looking into his eyes as he whispered the answer. "Yes." He was pleased to see envy and understanding there, before he headed to the chief's room with Alexander close behind him.