Perdiccas was late arriving so Hephaistion ensured the horses were ready, fastening the bridle of Perdiccas' horse just as the clatter of feet on stone could be heard and his travelling companion appeared, breathless, with tousled hair.
"It wasn't the wine," Perdiccas grinned, thanking Hephaistion as he took the reins of his horse, then handing a cloth bag to a groom while he leapt up on to his horse's back, reaching to take the bag and settle it in front of him. "I was reading...Xenophon, Alexander lent it to me and I stayed up late. Have you read it?"
Hephaistion placed his bag across his horse's withers and then jumped up to settle gently, gathering his reins. "I read it," he replied, waiting for Perdiccas to remember to lead the way.
They rode through the city, Hephaistion quiet while Perdiccas debated the finer points of Xenophon's story with himself. Hephaistion remembered that Alexander and his companions had been tutored by Aristotle and he supposed that was where the analysing everything had come from. He thought then that at least Alexander was taking the practical approach by going to Persia but then remembered that the king's dream would never be realised. They passed through the city gates, the guards acknowledging Perdiccas, then rode along the plains for a while where Perdiccas eventually went silent.
Hephaistion looked to his right at the distant mountains, then behind to look at the city, wondering if Laterides and the rest were packed or already on the boat. He looked left, towards the river, a ship was sailing along it, some men stood on it but none looked like Spartans.
"So, do the Spartans really want to go to Persia with us? It seems a strange idea when they have never offered their assistance to us before."
"Time's change."
"Yes, they have for Sparta and yet you cling to the days of glory."
"Wouldn't you?"
Perdiccas laughed. "They are still to come."
Hephaistion was aware of Perdiccas studying him now but this time it was more with good humour than concern, unlike the others. Eventually, they lost sight of Pella and journeyed through some woodland and Perdiccas began to point out places, either where there had been a memorable kill on a hunt or a happy time. He talked of Alexander and his companions, of growing up at Pella and their time at Mieza and their recent battles, of the decision to destroy Thebes of Alexander on campaign, talking with love and loyalty for the man.
They emerged from the woodland and rode along another plain then in to some hills, cantering then galloping to cover distance, riding down in to a valley where a brook bubbled along a bed of rocks and level grassed areas were surrounded by trees. It was getting late and Perdiccas suggested this was where they should make their camp.
Hephaistion offered to see to the horses while Perdiccas gathered wood and made a fire. He was relieved that the other man had thought to bring food with him, he had forgotten to bring any and his stomach was rumbling. He turned to watch his companion and wondered, for a moment, what he would think if he realised he was escorting the man, who would be responsible for Alexander's death, to Aegae. What Perdiccas had said, during the day, came to mind and he felt a moment of remorse for what he had to do, Alexander seemed no different from anyone, he appeared to have earned the loyalty of his men and yet he was an enemy of Sparta and for that he was wanted dead.
After they had eaten, when Perdiccas had tried to engage him in conversation once more, Hephaistion feigned sleep, lying down by the fire, pulling his cloak around him, listening to an old hunting song Perdiccas sang, to the wood cracking in the fire, the horses tearing grass with their teeth, the water racing by. His fingers brushed against the woollen cloak, he felt the ground beneath him, the warmth of the fire, smelt the earth. This was life and soon he would be leaving it. He wondered about Hades, what that would be like, if it would be anything as he imagined and slowly he felt sleep claim him and wondered if death would feel the same.