Chapter 3

Warning: I hate to give spoilers but I think it’s necessary, this chapter will be rated —M– and contains one scene of non-consensual sex. So you have been warned. Again thanks for taking the time to read this.

 

 

The Persian embassy was treated with great honors, the King was not only hospitable, he wanted to impressed them, to show them that Macedonia wasn’t the backwater kingdom is was under his father’s rule, that it wasn’t the insignificant place that Darius I saw with contempt when he crossed the Hellespont to invade Greece. No, Macedonia was strong and King Philip wanted to negotiate with the Great King as his equal not his vassal.

 

The King gave spending banquets and treated his guests as if they were the Great King himself, but he also instructed some of his most loyal nobles to take them around the city, to show them what had become of Pella under his command.

 

Pella, the city where the Macedonian King had his residence, was known as the new capital of Macedonia, but “new” was not a very accurate word. King Archelaus founded it almost a century ago, to replace old Aigai as the capital of the kingdom. King Philip had redecorated the royal palace recently, using his new fortune courtesy of his gold mines, and now stood as an impressive construction overshadowing the rest of the city with it’s immense walls surrounding the palace like titans, ready to stand in the way of anybody who tried to enter without permission. Pella was like a fantasy city born from the Grimm Brothers’ imagination, it was situated on a hill, surrounded by a lake of considerable depth and the royal palace had a river running between it’s walls and those of the city, with a bridge that connected both, so if the King ordered to close the doors it was almost impossible to get out (1).

 

The Persians enjoyed the tour but the most exciting moment arrived with the famous Lion Hunt. Weird as it sound the Macedonian royalty highly enjoyed this particular sport, and next day, the Lion Hunt took place in the royal forests. Once again, Hephaistion was with Perdikkas and Leonnatos though this meant being near Alexander too and Ptolemy, Harpalos and Nearchos. The King used to refer to this particular group as ‘Alexander’s friends’, but for the teenager of gray eyes they looked more like ‘Alexander’s pose’.

 

Why is that I always end near him? –thought Hephaistion when he felt someone’s eyes on him.

 

This time was Arsames’ deep black eyes watching him with intensity, the satrap no longer bother to hide his obvious interest in him, and it was clear for everyone that he wanted him… badly.

 

- He has been watching you for a while –said Leonnatos, approaching his horse to his friend’s—I think he likes you.

 

- What a nice way to put it –said Hephaistion, reading something disturbing in those black eyes, something he couldn’t understand quite well.

 

- Your brother isn’t here –observed Perdikkas, successfully distracting him from the satrap and his obscure intentions.

 

- No, he wasn’t invited –answered Hephaistion when someone else caught his attention—Who is that boy? –he pointed with his chin— The one with Philotas.

 

 - Oh! That’s Cassander, Antipater’s oldest son –said Perdikkas—He is really something.

 

- Something like what? –insisted the page of dark gray eyes.

 

- We are still trying to figure it out –said Leonnatos, chewing his nails.

 

- Oh, please Leon, stop that already –Perdikkas scolded him.

 

- Why? Now you sound like my mother.

 

- Now that I remember my brother told me about him, Nick said Cassander is self-center, arrogant, very ambitions and very clever –said Hephaistion looking at the 17 years old boy with bright red hair and pale blue eyes.

 

- Your brother described him perfectly –said Alexander who had overheard the conversation so far. Hephaistion looked at him and then pressed the flanks of his horse to get out of there.

 

- He is a hopeless case –mumbled Leonnatos, shaking his head.

 

The hunt started. First the hounds were released and then the horses followed. Hephaistion enjoyed hunting and everything that happened there was the most exciting for him: the adrenaline, the sound of the hooves over the ground, the dogs’ barks and the exhilarating voices of other men. The lion was not alone, a lioness presented battle too, killing some of the dogs and wounding a couple of horses in the process. Hephaistion was superb in the hunting, and he even helped his friends and companions, catching Perdikkas before he fell from his horse when the animal reared up scared.

 

The next events happened too quickly: near from where Hephaistion was, Alexander fell from his horse and the lion threw himself against this helpless prey. The page acted before thinking, pressed the flanks of his horse with his knees, and run to aid the Prince. He pierced the lion side to side with his spear but the wounded beast, in his frenzy, attacked Hephaistion’s horse. The page was too stunned to react, but in all this mayhem a coherent thought made it’s way through his brain: he was going to die.

 

An arrow took down the lion before anything regrettable could happen and the first to run to the stunned page was Alexander; luckily the wounded horse didn’t fall on Hephaistion but the poor animal had taken the worst part of the lion’s attacks; even though the page had bruises and cuts, and a specially nasty wound on his arm bleeding generously. 

 

- Are you all right? –asked Alexander, kneeling beside him, blocking the sun.

 

- Do I look…fine to you? –the Prince smiled. A voice near them called for a doctor.

 

- Gods… it hurts –said Hephaistion weakly.

 

- Don’t move until the doctor arrives, you could have a broken bone –said Alexander.

 

- Not that I can… move, anyway.

 

- If you have the strength to argue with me, then you will be fine –the Prince assured him.

 

XXX

 

An hour later, Hephaistion was lying on the small bed of the room he had in the royal palace. He had no broken bones and his most impressive wound was a clawing on his arm which had already been cleaned, stitched, bandaged and covered in honey to disinfect and to reduce the swelling… His entire skeleton hurt so much that he felt capable of drawing his 208 bones. He only wished to rest and sleep to avoid feeling the throbbing pain.

 

Sleep, that’s a great idea…—thought the page—My head is killing me…I’m going to closed my eyes and…

 

- Are you better? –when Hephaistion opened his eyes Alexander was there, standing at the side of his bed.    

 

- How did you get in?

 

- Door? –the page rolled his eyes annoyed—I came to thank you for what you did.

 

- You don’t have to; I didn’t do it for you.

 

- Really? –Alexander frowned—How come that saving MY life has nothing to do with ME?

 

Hephaistion sighed.

 

- I did it because it’s my duty –he answered, holding his gaze.

 

- Explain it to me.

 

- You are the Crown Prince of Macedonia and I’m the son of Amyntor, hetairoi of the King; so it’s my duty to look after you… Besides, I already told you I don’t hate you, I just don’t like you –said Hephaistion, his magnificent gray eyes settled on the ceiling.

 

- You are a liar –said Alexander.

 

- What did you call me? –the page sat so quickly that his entire body scream in pain, but he didn’t even wince, he was too proud to complain in front of the blond.

 

- That’s not the only reason why you save me –the Prince was absolutely sure of what he was talking about.

 

- Really? And according to you, why did I save your sorry excuse of a life? Because if you are thinking that I’m secretly in love with you, you are nuts –for some reason those word hurt Alexander’s heart more than he even dared to imagine.

 

- Do you know? When you are angry your eyes look purple –Hephaistion narrowed his eyes.

 

- Cut the crap.

 

- All right…I think you saved me because you are too good to let someone get hurt just because you don’t like him –the page applauded him.

 

- Your insight leave me without words, can you go now? I will really appreciate if you let me sleep –Hephaistion felt dreadful, he only wanted to rest and stopped arguing with Alexander. For some reason, the blond always brought out the worst of him, and he was too tired to be angry.

 

- Your horse died –said the Prince and the page fell silent—He bled to death, I’m sorry.

 

Hephaistion didn’t bother to hide his sadness. That horse was his father’s birthday present, his first horse, they were together only for 2 weeks but the page was fond of him. Alexander was amazed to see the page showing his feeling so openly, since they met they were always arguing and Hephaistion had been like a wall: impenetrable, impossible to tell what was he thinking or feeling. 

 

Someone knocked the door and an eunuch richly dressed appeared, his jewels sounding like little bells at every step. He smell like incense and his face was beautifully painted. A royal page and one young man who served as the Persians interpreter came with him. The eunuch bowed respectfully and waited for the interpreter to speak.

 

- His master, lord Arsames, sends him to ask about Hephaistion’s health –said the interpreter and Hephaistion saw him as if he was a ghost.

 

Why, in the name of the Furies, does the Persian want to know how am I? –thought the page.

 

- I thank lord Arsames for his kindness and you can inform him that I’m well –said Hephaistion with all charm, recovering from his initial shock.

 

The eunuch waited until the interpreter finished, then he bowed again and spoke.

 

- He says that he is glad to hear this and that his master asks you to accept a present, an Arabian breed horse, because of the death of yours –said the interpreter. Hephaistion opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of the water, without knowing what to say.

 

Horses were expensive, if Hephaistion lived in the XXI Century, it will be as if the satrap were offering him a car, an expensive, fabulous brand new car and that made Alexander feel a stab of jealousy. The Prince also considered the idea of giving a horse to Hephaistion, but he knew the page will never accept it, so he thought to buy the horse and bring it to him without asking, but he never expected this.

 

- I don’t know what to say –answered Hephaistion sincerely—Lord Arsames has my gratitude for his generosity but I can’t accept his present, it wouldn’t be right.

 

The eunuch didn’t understand, why he refused? But he didn’t insist, that would be rude, and after another bow he and his escort left the room. 

 

- By Zeus father of the Olympians! –exclaimed Hephaistion, dropping on his back again—What was that?

 

- I thought it will be obvious by now, Arsames fancies you –said Alexander, and the page turned so quickly to see him that his neck hurt—Don’t look at me like that, it’s true.

 

- I know it’s true; it’s just… I didn’t think that somebody else has noticed –Hephaistion admitted—By the severed head of Medusa! This so embarrassing –he took his hands to his face.

 

- What is embarrassing? To have a Persian enslaved by your beauty?

 

- You are mocking me –Hephaistion turned to look at him.

 

- Why should I? –said the Prince with innocence.

 

- Yeah, right… I’m-not-beautiful –the page enunciated, as if Alexander were retarded and had said that pigs could fly.

 

Is he crazy? Has he never seen his own reflection? –thought the Prince, amazed by his words.

 

- And why am I talking to you, anyway? –said Hephaistion.

 

The door open again, and another page appeared.

 

- The King sends me to know how are you –said the boy.

 

- You are pretty popular these days –Alexander mocked him.

 

- Tell the King I’m fine, and that I appreciate his concern –every moment Hephaistion was more and more embarrassed, why was everybody so interested in his health?

 

The door opened again, almost hitting the poor page who was about to leave, and Amyntor appeared.

 

- Phai, I heard what happened, your mother is on her way here with… Oh! Alexander, I didn’t expect to find you here, how are you? –asked Amyntor.

 

- Fine, all thanks to your son –Hephaistion saw how his father straightened himself up with pride—I’ll leave so you can talk.

 

The only time I saw my father feeling more proud of me was when I rode my first horse. He was happy that his son, so heroically, had saved the life of no other than the Crown Prince himself. Soon all the people in the royal palace were talking about my deed, the boy who yelled at the Prince in the festival soon became the boy who saved his life. My family was proud, my friends fascinated and I was tired of all the attention. For me, saving Alexander’s life was nothing more than my duty I couldn’t understand why everybody made a fuss out of it.

 

The Persians only stayed for 5 days and, after the Hunt of the Lion, I didn’t see Arsames again. Perdikkas told me he heard the satrap saying “the gray-eyed page is too beautiful to be owned by any mortal, even a King wouldn’t be worthy enough, he has to be with the very best of all men” Maybe Perdikkas was exaggerating but somehow I doubt it. In those days I didn’t understand a thing of that mysterious words, so I just cast them aside and continued living in my own magical world where nothing happened.

 

The months passed and things were more or less the same. Oh! I almost forgot, the King gave me a horse as a reward for saving his offspring. “Beauty always comes with dark thoughts”(2)… that I learned in the hard way; in those days I didn’t have conscious of my own beauty, I never thought of my self as an ugly boy, just one more… one more normal boy… How wrong I was.  

 

It was July, or Loios, as known in Macedonia at those times, few days had passed after Alexander’s birthday and Hephaistion now had 7 months living at the royal palace. He didn’t complain anymore, the palace of King Philip where the place where all the important things happened, the center of the world known and the page soon discovered how much he liked to be in the center of everything. The adrenaline, the intrigues, the negotiations, secret alliances, military treaties with groups with names so strange that he couldn’t pronounced them. As the King’s page he was present in many meetings and he discovered he liked politics. 

 

Everything seemed all right, he took classes along with the Prince and the other pages but he missed his home, though he had to admit that being living alone had made him grow up in so many different ways. He frequently saw his father and his brother; his mother and grandfather wrote to him almost every week and Antigone sent him cakes, cookies, dry fruits, jam and everything she could think about, which made him immensely popular with the other boys because his mother cooked deliciously, like a small taste of heaven.

 

That day, the beautiful teenager of 13 years and 7 moths old, walked down the corridor taking the longest route possible to his destination, all because he was avoiding Nicesipolis, the third wife of King Philip. Every time he met her she insisted in giving him a scarf or a cloak or a pair of socks or something she had just made, and it was really embarrassing. Last time Leonnatos had to stay with Nicesipolis almost for 3 hours, drinking tea and hearing her talking about her endless problems and worries.

 

So, here he was walking on a very peaceful and solitary corridor with a magnificent view of the garden, day dreaming about his favorite passage of the Iliad, the one where Diomedes with goddess Athena’s help fought against the Troyans and the gods who aided them. With his superhuman force Diomedes of the Acheans wounded no other than Ares, the god of war, but even with his divine force he was no match to Achilles, and the Greeks still cheered Achilles as the unconquered hero.

 

Hephaistion loved that part because no one could compare with his hero Achilles, and Diomedes was a cheater, he needed Athena’s help to succeeded and even then Achilles was stronger “As long as brilliant Achilles stalked the front no Trojan would ever venture beyond the Dardan Gates”(3) The page dreamed that some day he would be able to meet someone like Achilles, he didn’t want to be the son of the nymph Thetis, like almost all the young boys in Greece, he wanted to be with Achilles, because Achilles wasn’t only a great warrior, he was a noble man capable of love and his love for Patroclus was so great that he killed for him.

 

What Hephaistion wanted was to become someone’s Patroclus.   

 

The page was immersed in his thoughts when he saw a familiar silhouette sitting on a wooden chair inside a big room almost empty.

 

I know him, but can’t remember where I saw him –thought Hephaistion, brushing his damp hair with his fingers.

 

- You came to see me pose? –Alexander’s voice made him narrow his eyes.

 

- Why would I want to do such a thing? –asked the page as if the Prince had asked him to eat shit.

 

- Well, you are standing outside master’s Lysippus studio and he is going to sculpt me –explained the Prince.

 

- Lysippus? THE master Lysippus?

 

- Yes.

 

In those days Lysippus was like a Michael Angelo, Filippo Brunelleschi or William Wetmore, and everybody believed he was so good that the god Hephaestus could be jealous of him, his admires fear the god’s wrath but Lysippus never paid attention to this kind of superstition. His sculpts were magnificent, and looked as if they were alive and about to start walking in any moment. 

 

- Why would master Lysippus want to sculpt you? –that truly escaped Hephaistion’s comprehension, in his opinion it was a waste of time and talent.

 

- My father asked him to sculpt me in bronze, as a birthday present for me –said Alexander, crossing his eyes over his chest.

 

- Oh! By the Great Hephaestus’ hammer! How great! Your figure in bronze, immortalize for the eternity. The world can be in peace now that your image is going to be preserved –Hephaistion mocked him.  

 

- Would you like to meet master Lysippus? –asked Alexander as if the page hadn’t said a word.

 

- Thank you, I would love to stay and enjoy a moment of vanity and overflowing narcissism, but I have things to do.

 

- What things?

 

- That’s none of…

 

- My business –said Alexander.

 

Hephaistion gave him the same look that Medusa should have given to her enemies.

 

- You are annoying.

 

- And egocentric, selfish, arrogant, impulsive, brute, jerk… Did I miss something? –said the Prince with all calm.

 

- I’m glad that you take consciousness of your own faults, is the first step for a full recovery –said Hephaistion, walking away.  

 

- Be careful with the wind young Hyacinth –said Alexander as a good-bye, and Hephaistion showed him his middle finger.

 

Just before you ask, because I can see the question in your face, Hyacinth was a striking beautiful Spartan prince loved by Apollo, who was killed by the jealous god of wind Zephyrus because of his beauty, and from Hyacinth’s blood the sun god created the flower named after him.

 

Alexander watched him go. The page had grown, and contrary to the teenagers of his age, that look like giant mutations while they are growing, he had a magnificent body, the fabric of his chiton attached itself over the curve at the end of his back just before his butt started, his wet hair falling against the back of his head, and silent drops ran down his creamy skin like caresses of an invisible lover. 

 

- Friend of yours? –asked Lysippus, taking him out of his dreamy state.

 

- He is one of my father’s pages –answered Alexander, clearing his throat.

 

- Beautiful lad, shall we begin? –the Prince nodded and followed Lysippus inside the room.

 

XXX

 

- I don’t get it, Lysippus is sculpting Alexander, and you are mad because…? –asked Perdikkas, walking with Hephaistion through the streets of Pella to deliver some letters.

 

Pella, like all Greek cities, had an Agora at it’s center and was divided in parallel streets, rectangular blocks, neighborhoods and had sewer system that supplied private residences with fresh water. 

 

- It’s a waste of talent, why does the world need a sculpture of Alexander? –Hephaistion complained, while they walked near the market place.

 

- You know, for someone who claims to hate Alexander so much, you spend most of your time thinking about him –Perdikkas pointed out.

 

- Let’s talk about something else.

 

- All right. Your horse is great.

 

- Yeah –said Hephaistion without emotion.

 

- Now what? Are you still thinking it was not a good idea to accept the King’s horse? He gave him to you because you saved his son’s life, how many times are we going to discuss this? –said Perdikkas tired of his friend’s stubbornness.

 

Hephaistion sighed.

 

- Maybe you are right and I’m just paranoid.

 

- Of course I’m right, and yes you are paranoid.

 

- By the way, you are right, is one hell of a horse –said the page smiling.

 

XXX

 

That night King Philip gave a banquet. Hephaistion had the boring task of guarding the corridor that lead to the King’s chambers, the pages took turns and this time was his. There was something that Hephaistion had been thinking for a long time, since he heard that Alexander had taken the life of his first man at the age of 12 years old and hunted his wild boar at the same age, he wasn’t in peace with himself…

 

He is younger than me, for Ares’ sake! I can’t be left behind –thought Hephaistion, pacing around the corridor— I’m going to ask Nick to take me to the north, there is always trouble with the Illyrians and the Thracians, surely there I’ll be able to take the life of my first man, right? I’ll do it next week. Dad want me to wait until I’m 14, but if I do that, that will mean I killed my first man 2 years later than that brute. No, it has to be next week definitely, I’ve waited too much already… Nick is not going to do this for free, I have to think what to give him in exchange, maybe if…  

 

- HEPHAISTION! –the King’s voice made him jumped—I’ve been calling you.

 

Shit! –thought the page, blushing in embarrassment and looking absolutely adorable. Philip was in front of him, standing on the corridor, but somehow he hadn’t see him until the King raised his voice.

 

- My apologies, sire –said Hephaistion, hastily—What can I do for you?

 

- Come –Philip guided him to his bedroom, for the page utterly confusion.

 

What the hell? –thought the page. Hephaistion couldn’t find one reason for his presence there, but all the same he remained silent. Maybe the King needed his help for something, right? He had heard from Perdikkas that Antipater had asked him once to arrange his books, a task that had taken his friend 2 weeks; he hoped it was something like this because he loved books and it would a delight to have the opportunity to see the King’s collection.  

 

It was a large bedroom with marble floor, an impressive painting of Herakles, the King’s ancestor, slaying the Nemean lion. Through the big, wide-opened windows, the sweet smell of the garden flowers invaded the room with its perfume and a soft warm breeze made the curtains danced almost seductively. 

 

The King smelled heavily of wine and meat, a not very pleasant smell, but he was not drunk, the page had seen him drunk many times before to know the difference… What was Philip thinking? Maybe he had some important errand for him…

 

- Close the door –the page obeyed, and when he turned he found himself trapped between the heavy oak door and the powerful body of the King.

 

Hephaistion opened his gorgeous eyes and Philip could read there the purest astonishment in them, the page truly had no idea of what was going on. 

 

- What’s happening? –asked the page with a ghost of voice, innocently, without breath. He was so close to the King that he could make a list of what he had eaten that night.

 

- What do you think is happening? I thought you were a clever lad –Philip closed the distance between them, until his chest rested against the page’s. The King could feel the savage beating of his heart. In those moments, Hephaistion was like a mouse, helpless, scared and confused in the cat’s claws. 

 

The page almost sank his fingers in the wood behind him, his whole body was screaming: DANGER, but what could he possibly do? Philip took one of his slender thighs, his rough hands were a contrast to that creamy skin, and the page jumped as if someone had stung him with a needle.

 

- Nobody had touched you in this way before? –the King slid his hand up, caressing his delicious skin in the process, losing himself in his softness, feeling the muscles tensed under his touch. Philip’s strokes intended to be soft and gentle but for Hephaistion it was the same as been beaten. He was in shock, and couldn’t understand what was happening, he just couldn’t…

 

- Sweet Aphrodite! –exclaimed the King, fascinated. Everything in Hephaistion made him burn in desire, and it had been years since the last time he felt that way.

 

Philip was 40 years old, when he was young and enjoying happier years, his soldiers used to called him “the Bull”, for been able to satisfy several ladies in the same night, or so the rumors said. It was a long time since that, but now he felt the heat in his body and his own arousal like when he was a boy of 18 years old, he felt like his old-self and he loved it.

 

The King took his fingers under the dark-blue chiton. Hephaistion appeared to be nailed to the door, he wanted to scream but before he could think what to do, Philip trapped his lips, moaning as if he were enjoying the sweetest of the fruits. The page felt the bile rising up his throat, he wanted to puke, he felt sick at been invaded like that and the strong taste of un-water wine and over spiced food only made things worst.

 

Hephaistion had his first kiss when he was 11 years old, with the daughter of one of his father’s workers, but that innocent kiss had been like a butterfly’s touch of 10 seconds. This was different. The King was aggressive, dominant, passionate to the point of letting himself burn in his own desires and frantic impulses; Philip was crazy for Hephaistion and he showed no restraint in his ministrations.

 

Philip II King of Macedonia was the most powerful man in the known world, he was crowned after the dead of his 2 older brothers: Alexander and Perdikkas, and against all odds he became the new ruler of a weak, devastated and threatened kingdom. But Philip took that poor and unknown land and transformed himself in the master of the Balkans, negotiating with the almighty Persian Empire as their equal. He had married 5 times with princesses of neighborhood kingdoms, enjoyed all the eccentricities and had drank from the lips of the most beautiful creatures of the world. He had been Pelopidas’ eromenos, the famous Pelopidas, the Theban general who defeated the undefeated Spartans. Philip was famous for his orgies and had mistresses and lovers all over Greece… And then, there he was! At his 40 years old feeling like a young man, almost as if this were the first time he was going to have sex.

 

The King surrounded the page’s waist, but when he wanted to bring his hand between his legs…

 

- No! –exclaimed Hephaistion without breath.

 

It took a moment for Philip to come out from his happy state of self-indulgence, and then he smiled, still holding the boy. He should be crazy to let go someone like this gorgeous creature.

 

- You are virgin, eh? –he approached to his cheek and inhaled the delicious smell of his hair, the smell of chamomile. Philip was fascinated with the news, which acted in him like no exotic barbarian aphrodisiac could ever did—I’m surprise that none of the boys had try anything with you… Father Zeus! You are ungodly beautiful, you could make the Gods blush.

 

- Sire… please, don’t… --said Hephaistion trying to reason with him. He was pushing the King away, gently, by the shoulders with his fists.

 

Philip took his wrists and lifted his arms over his head, trapping him with one of his big powerful hands, the same hands that had took more than one life on the battlefield.

 

- Stop whining like a woman –said the King against his cheek, his breathe moving the locks of the page’s hair.

 

- I don’t want to do this –Hephaistion knew the man before him was the King, and knew about all the problems he and his family could have if he disobeyed his orders, but he was scared, and the only thing he could think about was running away, be as far as he could from him.

 

It was as if the Hephaistion hadn’t say a thing. Philip licked the length of his neck, and the salty flavor of his skin proved delicious to him.

 

- NO! –Hephaistion kicked the King’s leg, and Philip released him. The page saw his chance and tried to run away but Philip was quicker and took him by his arm. The King, literally, dragged him to the bed with brutal force and threw him on the mattress.

 

- Bloody, kid!         

 

Hephaistion fought, kicked, bit, and defended himself like a wounded beast. Philip smiled, he was used to fight for what he wanted, it had been like that all his life and he wouldn’t have enjoy Amyntor’s boy more if he had willing shared his bed. The King immobilized the page, on 4 over him, and tried to kiss him, but Hephaistion spat in his face.

 

- You have spirit kid, I grant you that –Philip saw fire in his wonderful dark gray eyes, a wild spark that captured him immediately—Also you have beautiful eyes –said, utterly lost in that magnificent vision under him.

 

- Let me go! –demanded Hephaistion as if he were the King, his hair covering his face and his cheeks blushed with the effort of the fight. His voice trembled with rage and fear.

 

- Do you think that, the King of Macedonia, is going to obey a 13 years old kid? –asked Philip laughing.

 

- Such a King that has to take by force what a 13 years old boy deny him –answered Hephaistion in mockery.

 

Philip pressed his wrist with too much force hurting him, but the page bit his lip to make no sound.

 

- If you are going to do this, do it now –Hephaistion’s entire body shook with fear, but even in that dreadful moment he would not lose the defiance in his voice.

 

- You are a weird lad, Hephaistion –said Philip with calm, very close to his lips—Any other page will have spread his legs like a whore for me –he licked he page’s cheek—You must know that is common for the King or the Somathophilakes to take the pages to our beds if we want. I’m in my right.

 

- No –answered Hephaistion, clenching his jaw, fighting back the tears that threatened to slide down his cheek—You have no right, my life is mine.

 

- Wrong –the King pulled him, turned him over and left him facing down. Hephaistion tried to free himself but Philip had him with the arms behind his back and any movement supposed a terrible pain, traveling all over his arms—Those gallant words can only be said when you are the most powerful of men, and right now you are nothing more then an insolent boy. I’m gone to tame you the same way one does with a rebel horse.

 

All that Hephaistion could see in his position was his own hair and the mess of the sheets, which only served to feed his imagination in the worst possible way. When Philip touched the page he knew he was lost, beyond salvation, it was like touching Aphrodite, his skin was divine with no imperfections, he was addictive and the dream come true of any mortal.

 

- Let me go! –shouted the page, furious as never before in his short life.

 

- Be smart, Hephaistion –said the King touching him, exploring him, leaving no part of the page without attention—If you behave you could be my eromenos.

 

- And… treat me like you… treated Pausanias… of Orestis? –Philip laughed without humor.

 

Just like the King said he mounted Hephaistion as if the boy were a wild horse, without consideration, without care, without delicacy, only looking to satisfy the lust and fire inside him. The page felt sick, he was afraid as he had never been in his life, feeling something he would have never dared to imagine it was possible. He had tachycardia, felt dizzy, couldn’t breath, his body trembled… He wished with all his forces to be out of there, left his body in that bed and ran away to his home, with his family.

 

At some point he stopped hearing, stopped thinking and for a few moments it was as if he had disconnected from reality. Hephaistion made no sound, did not moved, he was like a rag doll just lying there. And, when the King finally finished with him, ending that nightmare, Hephaistion felt like awaking after a night terror; but the nightmare was just beginning. It took time for the page to know where he was and why his body ached. He stood up but his legs trembled so much that he thought he would fall. His only coherent thought was to get out of there and like a sleepwalker he arrived to his room.

 

This is my fault –thought Hephaistion. If he were stronger, if he were an important man nothing like this would have ever happened to him. He was humiliated and felt defenseless; he was a man, and men were suppose to take care of themselves and their families, wasn’t that right? That was what his father did, what his grandfather did… and they, they would have never suffered a humiliation like this.

 

How can I sleep?

When I don’t know whether I live or dream

And how can I weep?

When I don’t know if the pain I feel is real?

(Sirenia. The Fall Within)

 

XXX

 

- You slept with Amyntor’s son? –asked Parmelio while the King ate his breakfast next morning.

 

- Don’t look at me like that, he is my page and the damn lad is absolutely gorgeous, even you, who don’t like boys, must admit he is a beauty, like a living god! –said Philip in a great mood. It had been years since the last time his most trusted General had seen him like this, almost glowing. 

 

- He is… good looking, I admit –Parmelio took a seat in front of the King.

 

- Last night was –Philip laughed—It was a long time since I feel like this, like a Bull –the general laughed too.

 

- It’s good to see you happy, Amyntor’s boy must be exceptional in bed –the King stopped laughing.

 

- Not exactly.

 

Parmelio didn’t like that.

 

- What happened?

 

- I had to er…forced Hephaistion, a little –said the King.      

 

- What do you plan to do with him? –asked Parmelio, suddenly very serious. Something there wasn’t quite right.

 

- I want him as my eromenos, but the lad won’t accept –Philip leaned back against the chair. 

 

- Why not? It’s an honor –Philip told him every word that Hephaistion had said to him, and his General opened his pale green eyes so much that it appeared as if they would come out.

 

General Parmelio son of Philotas was a tall man of 57 years old. He once had black thick hair but now most of his hair was grey and not as thick as it was in his better days, almost 17 years older than the King, Parmelion was like his older brother, he was a realistic and practical person who didn’t have problems telling people the awful truth but, unlike his son Philotas, he was not rude, he only gave his opinion when people asked for it. He was the only one who told the King what he needed to hear, even if Philip didn’t like it.

 

Parmelio was syntrophoi of Alexander, the older brother of the King, the charming, handsome and so blond Alexander who was as gorgeous as stupid. It was thanks to him that the Illyrians almost invaded Macedonia, and was he who sent his brother Philip as a hostage to the Ilyrian King Bardylis. But even with all his faults, Philip adored his older brother, reason why his son was named after him.

 

Brother Alexander had been an awesome athlete, good at every sport especially hunting, but was easily fooled, and so it was that his uncle Ptolemy conspired against this Prince Charming without a Fairy God Mother, and got him killed in the prime of his youth. Parmelio never liked brother Alexander and he liked even less Perdikkas, father of cousin Amyntas. Parmelio believed it was the end of Macedonia when Perdikkas died with his troops at the hands of the Illyrians and couldn’t believe the luck of that modest kingdom when Philip transformed the entire military system and made Macedonia what it was now.

 

Parmelion admired and respected Philip, it was thanks to him that the kingdom flourished and was thanks to him that the General was who he was now: one of the most powerful men in the entire Greece. The King used to say about Parmelio “the Athenians manage to dig up 10 generals every year; I only ever discovered one in my life: Parmenio”(4) But even all his admiration didn’t restrain the General when the truth must be said, like that day, he knew all the strong points of his King and also his terrible faults. 

 

- Do you want my opinion? –asked Parmelio and Philip embraced himself to get a slap of reality.

 

- Go ahead.

 

- Leave him alone –the General enunciated— You don’t need another Olympias.

 

- I won’t leave him –said Philip in that particular way which meant he had already take a decision and that it was final.

 

Problems –thought Parmelio.

 

- I like the lad, I just had to tame him –said the King with all calm.

 

-Of course, and what about Amyntor?

    

- What about him?

 

- You know how Amyntor is about his family, do you think for a second that he is going to be happy with the idea of some man, 3 times the age of his son, forcing him into his bed –Philip sighed heavily but let his General speak—Amyntor is very well connected in Athens.

 

- I know.

 

- He is Demades’ friend.

 

- I know.   

 

- And Demades is the only ally you have in Athens, the only one who has the guts to confront Demosthenes, and Demosthenes is getting more and more dangerous –Parmelio reminded him.

 

- I KNOW! –they both fell silent.

 

Parmelio leaned to the front and interlaced his fingers in front of his eyes.

 

- I just want to keep you out of trouble –said the General and the King nodded—I’m glad to see this… Bull aura again in you, you look younger and happy… I’m glad that you like this boy that much, but he doesn’t want you around him…

 

- I told you, he is just a rebel horse –said Philip.

 

- Some horses can kill their riders, never forget that.

 

XXX

 

Hephaistion was late at the palace gymnasium. The pages did exercise every morning before dawn, then they took breakfast and went to their activities. At first it was a strange event to saw Alexander in the gymnasium with the pages, but lately he was there every single day.

 

The page of dark gray eyes felt lost that morning, weak, dizzy… He had vomited 3 times during the night and didn’t fell hungry at all, and when he walked near Leonnatos his friend opened his eyes round and big watching his emaciated face and sorry state.

 

- What, in the name of the Three Judges of Hades, happened to you? –asked Leonnatos impressed, Hephaistion was too pale, he looked like an undead who just arise from his grave. 

 

- Nothing –was the cold answer.

 

- You look dreadful –said Leonnatos, watching him untying the laces of his sandals like an automat. His friend saw bruises and scratches on his legs, and a red mark around his wrists, as if somebody had tied him—You fought someone?

 

- No, I fell from my horse –Hephaistion lied, his hair falling to the front, hidding his face. He took out his sandals.

 

- Yeah, right, that’s why you have the wrists as if somebody had tied you –the page froze.

 

I should never come to the gymnasium –thought Hephaistion.       

 

- Phai if somebody hit you please tell us, and Perdikkas and I can go to pay him a visit…

 

- NOBODY HIT ME! –Hephaistion raised his voice without looking at him.

 

- Phai, don’t be like that…

 

- Then stay out of my life –Hephaistion left the gymnasium barefoot, he just wanted to be alone, and walked without direction. 

 

What a fool I am! How was that I thought that going to the gymnasium was a good idea –the page ran to the royal forest paying attention to no one.

 

It was a Greek custom, and recently also a Macedonian one, to go to gymnasium naked; Hephaistion never had problems with that, but now… The last thing he wanted was to show the entire palace the bruises over his white milky skin or worst, the wounds on his butt. He reached the forest and lay down on the thick grass. He couldn’t sit, he didn’t know how bad was the wound on his butt but it hurt terrible, and had bleed a lot when he took a bath. He wanted to cry but at the same time he couldn’t allow himself that girlish comfort; he was a man and would endure this situation like one, he wasn’t beaten, he will be stronger and everything will be all right.

 

- You left these in the gymnasium –Hephaistion lifted his head and saw Alexander sitting down beside him on the grass. Against all odds the Prince said nothing, so the page laid his head over his crossed arms and ignored him for a while– Aren’t you going to insult me and tell me to mind my own business, and that I’m the biggest jerk that had ever lived in Pella? –asked Alexander in a soft voice, watching the distance.

 

- You are a brute –said Hephaistion weakly.

 

- What happened to you? –they both answered ‘nothing’ at the same time—It would be better if you had said ‘none of your business’ rather than ‘nothing’.

 

- If I say ‘none of your business’, will you leave me?

 

- Mm, no. Now I’m intrigued, why did you yell at Leon? He is your friend and the only one who makes you that angry is me –said Alexander, watching him with intensity, trying to figure out what was wrong with him. This time Hephaistion didn’t held his gaze, he was not in the mood and that told Alexander that something was very wrong with the page—Who beat you?

 

- No one –answered Hephaistion, sick of that question.

 

- Wrong answered. You and I know that the bruises on your legs and writs are not from a horse fall, besides you are an excellent rider so thats improbable. You get angry every time someone asks you “who beat you” which make me think that someone hurt you badly enough to be unable to admit it, you are too proud and used to solved your problems on your own –said Alexander, as if the page wasn’t there.

 

- Are you done? –Hephaistion stood up with difficulty and took his sandals.

 

- Aren’t just the bruises on your legs, are they? That’s why you left, you didn’t want us to see you naked –the Prince stood up, too.

 

- Leave me ALONE –the page was about to walk, but Alexander took him by his arm.    

 

- Why don’t you tell me what happened to you? –asked the Prince with such an intensity that Hephaistion was speechless for a moment.

 

- Because I don’t want to –their eyes met for a moment an Alexander was surprise of what he saw. He let the page go and Hephaistion disappeared in a heartbeat.

 

 

XXX

 

(1)  Livy. Rome and the Mediterranean, p 599 

(2)  Nightwish. Wish I had an Angel

(3)  Homer. The Iliad

(4)  Peter Green. Alexander of Macedon, p 32