Hephaistion hurried from the palace and as soon as he was free from it, from the gaze of people, he ran through the streets of Pella finding himself at a small temple dedicated to Aphrodite. Catching his breath he stepped inside, looking on the small statue of the Goddess, illuminated by a bowl of burning oil and surrounded by votives. He pressed his body against the wall at the back of the temple and watched the flame, then the shadows dancing upon the walls and pillars, then looked upon the Goddess as though she might step forward and utter words of wisdom at any moment.
Lifting his right hand he let his fingertips slide along his lips, he could still feel Alexander's on his own and the sweetness of it had left him craving more. He shook his head, lowering his hand, as he wondered how he had the strength to break away. Only the thought of how he had come to Pella had stopped him. If Alexander had been a soldier at the barracks it would be different but he was the King of Macedon, leader of Greece and all around him were pushing for position, jealous of anyone who took favour.
'It would be a mistake,' he told himself again, as if to convince himself.
Laughter rang out along the streets and a girl ran in to the temple, looking for a place to hide, her face excited, she held her hand to her lips as if to stop herself from laughing once more.
Hephaistion stepped silently back in to the shadow, his hand going to his dagger incase his judgement was wrong and the girl was hiding from danger.
A man's laughter came from the dark and the girl hugged closer to the pillar, unable to stop a small cry of delight that the man was near. As he appeared she gave a shriek and ran, only to be caught in strong arms, the two lovers kissing before running off together in the night.
Hephaistion looked to the Goddess. 'You know my heart,' he said, 'I thought there would be nobody so important to me after Iphicles and if you guided me to Alexander, then it was a poor first impression that I made...an assassin.' He shook his head and stepped forward so that Aphrodite might see him and he knelt before her, lowering his head. 'You know I would sooner see that dagger in my heart than in Alexander's, I will follow him to Persia as I owe him my life...and I have never known anyone like him...it is as though I have known him before.'
He looked to the Goddess, as if he might tell if he had her attention. He needed her help, he hoped she was listening to him.
'I see the man, not the King,' he continued. 'I am not sure the likes of Craterus do.'
He rose up to his feet and exhaled loudly, then looked again to the Goddess, stepping closer gazing into her jewelled eyes. 'In Sparta I was shunned for being a trembler, if I were to be with Alexander...as a lover...I could expect the same, people would never think that my reasons or intentions were down to love.' He laughed. 'I am not even sure that this is love, we have hardly spent time alone, I fight my emotions, hide them and all Alexander knows of me is that I loved Iphicles and planned to kill him.'
Hephaistion paused a moment, looking down to the stone floor.
'I have longed to be with Iphicles but now I find myself longing for Alexander...with a stronger emotion...a deeper emotion than I have ever known.'
He went silent again and then removed a silver ring from the little finger of his left hand, stepping forward to place it in offering. 'It was given to me by Iphicles, I have treasured it but it is time to move on.'
Stepping back he bowed his head to the Goddess and turned and walked away, leaving the past behind.
XXOOXX
Alexander paced his room, his temper still raging. He had sent Craterus and Ptolemy away almost as soon as they had appeared, enough to make them think twice before they ever assumed they had a right to interfere.
Suddenly, the weight of being King seemed to rest fully upon him and he wanted a moments freedom to do what he wanted without words of advice or looks of concern. He fetched his cloak and wrapped it around himself then looked over the balcony and seeing nobody there lifted himself over it and climbed down to the courtyard.
It was something that he had done before but when he was a boy, now all that he had to do was pass quietly through one more courtyard and then, when the guards were not looking drop down over a wall and he would be in the city. It was easily done and Alexander found himself in the deserted streets longing only to be free of them.
He hurried to the stables where Bucephalus called out to him and seemed to welcome the bridle Alexander placed on him. Leading the stallion from the stables he leapt upon the horse's back and headed to the nearest gate, yearning even more for the freedom of being away from Pella.
The gate was closed and curious guards stepped forward to the cloaked figure their movements cautious as they recognised the horse if not the rider.
'Open the gate.' Alexander commanded, pushing Bucephalus forward.
One man came forward to snatch the reins as others drew their swords. 'This is the King's horse,' he said, gruffly.
Alexander pulled back the cloak to reveal his face and instantly Bucephalus' reins were released and the swords replaced in their sheaths. 'I am the King. Open the gate.'
None of the guards moved, the one who had taken the reins spoke again. 'Should we wait for your guard to come?'
'Open the gate,' Alexander ordered, in a voice that none would dare to question.
The gate was opened and he pushed Bucephalus forward into a gallop feeling as though he could breathe more easily with every stride the stallion took. He eased back into a canter and looked up at the night sky, illuminated by a full moon slowly his temper disippated and he reined Bucephalus in, dismounting and leaving the stallion to graze, while he lay down and looked up to the night sky.
Stars were shining, the Gods and Goddesses marked out in the sky, telling their stories and he closed his eyes and thought of his father, telling him their stories and thinking of all he might have asked him if he had not been so unsure of his love. He was too young, to sure to listen to his mother and be influenced by her venom. He then thought of times with his father on campaign, nights when they had laughed together, days when they had quarrelled and the moment Pausanias took his life.
His thoughts then turned to Hephaistion, who, in the same theatre, planned to take his life...but he had not. He imagined Hephaistion and Iphicles together and felt bitterly jealous of a man he had never known, then thought of Hephaistion's kiss and how the world had seemed right.
He sat up and though not many lamps were lit now he could see Pella and the silhouette of the city. It should be home but it was not.
Bucephalus suddenly raised his head and called out, looking into the dark and breathing hard, stomping his hoof.
Alexander got to his feet quickly and would have gone to the stallion but a guttural growl made him halt in his tracks and he turned slowly to see a mountain lion, low to the ground, its long tail swishing, dark eyes looking at its prey.
Alexander reached for his dagger only to find it was not there, then glanced over to Bucephalus only to find the horse had backed further away, plunging forward, head low, watching the lion.
Looking around for a weapon, for anything that might halt an attack Alexander found a rock on the ground. The lion moved forward and Alexander moved his foot against the rock so he might find it as he bent low and reached for it, while watching the lion. His foolishness, his temper may have cost him his life but he would fight for it.
The lion growled, paced to the side watching for its chance, Alexander growled back, realised if he went low the lion would attack and so abandoned the rock and moved back, turning himself in the dark. The lion leapt towards Bucephalus and the stallion bolted, kicking out at nothing as the lion had turned back to Alexander, it's tail swishing faster as it got ready to strike.
Desperate to find a weapon, Alexander stepped back then felt the ground disappear under his right foot and he was falling. Panic gripped him and he grasped out for anything that might save him, his luck came back and he clutched at a small tree, the branches digging into the flesh of his right hand as he struggled to gain purchase, feeling around with his feet for solid ground. As he struggled the lion appeared above him, swiping at him with its claws, snarling, baring teeth that could easily kill him, if the fall did not.