CHAPTER 62

 

Next day, Hephaistion, his family and the Persians, left at dawn, after a light breakfast. Achilles slept half of the way, his head against his father’s chest, and it was about 3 hours latter that he woke up. The General observed with attention the road, taking a mental note of all the shortcuts where Maeon took them; it was clear that the Greek mercenary knew the place.

 

Near noon, they arrived at the Persian camp, located in a part of Assyria “where the country was flat and open, good for cavalry action, and suitable for maneuvering the vast numbers under [the Great King’s] command”(1) It was a very beautiful place, green everywhere and with a pleasant weather.

 

- You got to be kidding me! –exclaimed Hephaistion in utterly astonishment when his gorgeous gray eyes settled on the enormous Persian camp. From that distance, it looked like a city, with several standards of different colors, colors that Hephaistion had never seen, waving in a rhythmic dance at the mercy of the wind.

 

- Impressive, isn’t it? –said Maeon, enjoying the Macedonian astonishment—You should see it from inside, and not only that, these Persians wear more gold in one day that you have ever seen in your entire life. 

 

The mercenary kicked the flanks of his horse and the group advanced; he didn’t want to lose more time there. 

 

- It doesn’t look like a military camp –observed grandfather Demetrios, riding at his grandson’s side.

 

- I was thinking the same thing –said the General—Is too big to be defended properly.

 

Maeon was right. As soon as they crossed the camp’s gates Hephaistion had to make an effort to not open his mouth like a fool. Whoever said the Persians were barbarians had no idea of what he was talking about. Every tent, every man, woman, servant, noble, soldier, slave…everybody dressed in an outstanding way, with beautiful cloths of colors that had Achilles with his big bright eyes very open. It was like stepping into a painting, crossing to a completely different world where even the smells were strange but at the same time pleasant. They could hear fragments of conversations in different languages, animals that they had never seen before…everything was new and fascinating.

 

Hephaistion thought again that this place look like a small city instead of a military camp, especially near the center, where the Great King, his family and concubines had their tents. Everything in that place looked as if the Great King were taking a placid travel; he even saw many children and women.  

 

Wait until Alex hears about this, he is not going to believe it –thought the Macedonian with excitement.

 

Maeon and the rest of the group stopped and dismounted, so Hephaistion and grandfather Demetrios did the same.

 

- Well, I have to report that you are here –said the Greek mercenary—You will have to wait, I’m sure they would assign you a tent or something. And be patient, you’ll see the Great King when he decides he wants to see you.

 

- Which could be now or in a month, isn’t it? –said Hephaistion and Maeon smiled.

 

- I’m glad that you understand how this works. I guess this is good-bye for now, good luck! –the mercenary patted his back, and off he went. 

 

Kyros dismounted too and helped Achilles to get down.

 

- What now? –asked the Theban, approaching his master.

- We wait –answered Hephaistion, surveying their surroundings—This place doesn’t have a specific order…at least not here, at the center is different. 

 

- My thoughts exactly son –said grandfather Demetrios, taking the dust off his cloths—Did you see how many sentries they have?

 

- Too few, for a camp of this size –Hephaistion answered, still speaking in Macedonian.

 

- Better for us, in case it’s necessary, this makes our escape easier…

 

- Aki, come back here, this place is too big and you can get lost –the General called his son, when he saw the boy wandering around. Achilles obeyed at once, running back to where his father was. 

 

An hour passed, and by now the glamour was gone and Kyros, Achilles, grandfather Demetrios and Hephaistion were sitting on the floor, legs stretched to the front and tired and bored expressions on their faces. They were sweating and stinking of horse.

 

- I’m bored –said Achilles crossing his arms and frowning like an adult.

 

Kyros yawned without shame.

 

- How long are we going to wait? –asked the Theban, that heat was making him feel sleepy and his stomach was making strange sounds since half and hour ago.

 

- Didn’t you hear your master? –said grandfather Demetrios—We could stay here for a month –he laughed celebrating his own joke, and Hephaistion smiled when he saw Kyros expression of dismay.

 

- I told you, you could have stayed in the Macedonian camp –the General reminded him, but the Theban shook his head.

 

- I know, I KNOW, everything is urgent for these Greeks and they complain about EVERYTHING –they turned when they heard a high pitch voice speaking very quickly in a very bad Greek. It was a…Man? Woman? Eunuch?…something, who was dressed with a very colorful silk costume, beautiful golden earrings and rings in every finger. Tall with dark hair and tanned, soft skin and his face painted meticulously, followed by a servant. 

 

The newcomer stopped in front of Hephaistion’s group, his hands at his hips and he frowned. 

 

- Oh! This is just great, a group of beggars! –he exclaimed shrilly, looking at the tired, dusty, sweaty and hungry faces in front of him—Who did Maeon think am I? Do I have face of running a shelter? Eh?…—he raised his eyes and arms to heaven saying something in Persian before seeing them again— Who is Hephaistion son of Amyntor?

 

- I am –said the General standing up.

 

The Persian opened his perfectly painted eyes, and raised is perfectly waxed eyebrows in astonishment.

 

- By the love of Ahura Mazda! –he exclaimed, without voice, taking his hand to his chest—But you are a Peris, not a man.

 

- Excuse me?

 

- So, you are the new acquisition of our Great and Divine King –said the Persian—Oh! You are a beauty, where have you been hiding? ATASH! –he shouted before Hephaistion could say something—Are you sure Maeon said Hephaistion? –the servant whose name was Atash, said something in Persian, nodding and watching the Macedonian—You are here as a mercenary? –asked the Persian to Hephaistion, as if that were some kind of mistake.

 

- Yes, I am –it had been so difficult to say that. He? A mercenary? Fighting for money when all his life he had been fighting for his beloved King. No matter what Memnon had said, he felt like a prostitute in that moment.

 

- Are you sure? Aren’t you here to be sent to the harem?

 

- I’m sure –he answered extremely serious—Why do you ask so much? And who are you? –Hephaistion wanted to know.

 

The man cleared his throat.

 

- We are in a bad mood today, aren’t we? –he said—Well, Peris I’m Xsayarsa, I’m in charge of all these…barbarians who called themselves the most civilized men in the world –he said with mockery, rolling his eyes—His graciousness, the Great King, ordered me to see that all his…mercenaries have the necessary, so I’m the one who provides.

 

- Provides what? –asked Kyros with curiosity, he and grandfather Demetrios had followed the conversation with all their attention. Achilles was busy watching a monkey sitting on a man’s shoulder near them; he had never seen an animal like that. 

 

Xsayarsa turned to see the Theban, still sitting on the floor, then he returned his attention to Hephaistion.

 

- I’m sorry darling, what is this? –asked the Persians pointing at Kyros.

 

- He is my servant –explained the Macedonian. 

 

- Mm –Xsayarsa nodded—Well, I don’t talk to servants. As I was saying to you –he continued as if there hadn’t been any interruptions—I give you Greeks anything you need: food, accommodations, equipment, weapons, cloths, women, boys, wine…and of course I’m the one who pays –he smiled almost sweetly— So, you arrived today… —the Persian started walking and Hephaistion followed him, grandfather Demetrios stoop up and he, Kyros and Achilles followed them with the horses—Well according to Maeon his divinity, the Great King, is waiting for you since DAYS ago…honestly! You Greeks know no manners; we do not make the Great King wait –he said enunciating— NEVER! 

 

- I’m not Greek –said Hephaistion and Xsayarsa stopped abruptly and turned to see him—I’m Macedonian.

 

- Huh…and isn’t that in Greece?

 

- Not exactly.

 

- Well, whatever –the Persian continued walking—Do you have family with you? Mistress, lover, courtesan, concubine? 

 

- Just my son and grandfather –answered Hephaistion, following Xsayarsa thought the camp, dodging boxes, people, barrels, two dogs, a cat, 3 children and a huge man carrying a chest, to a zone of more austere tents.

 

- You will be sleeping… —the Persian took his time to think, his eyes surveying the tents in front of him—There! In the big one, inside are fresh cloths, and I will send someone to prepare a bath, because you stink so much, that people back in Babylon are complaining of your smell.

 

- I have my own cloths, thank you –Xsayarsa saw him from head to toe.

 

- Oh I’m sorry, do you mean that? –he pointed at him—No –he shook his head—I don’t think so, you are not showing yourself in front of his greatness, wearing that.

 

Hephaistion puffed out. They arrived at the tent, and even grandfather Demetrios opened his mouth amazed of what he saw, the most luxurious furniture they had ever seen, everything resembling a comfortable room, even the walls of the tent were painting in a magnificent way, like a wallpaper. Xsayarsa ordered that the horses must the taken to the stables of the mercenaries and continued talking.

 

- Well handsome, I leave now; if you need anything just ask. I will come to get you when the Great King asks for you –and with that the Persian was gone with his servant running behind him.

 

- Sweet Zeus! I thought he would never shut up –exclaimed grandfather Demetrios taking a seat in an extremely comfortable chair. Achilles ran, climbed the bed and started jumping. The mattress was as soft as a cloud, full with feathers instead of rags.

 

- Wow! –exclaimed Kyros, exploring the place—This is bigger than King Alexander’s tent.

 

Grandfather Demetrios smiled.

 

- Lad, this is bigger than the living room of my house –he said.

 

But their happiness wasn’t complete until the food arrived, and then was good-bye to manners and hello to the splendid dishes. The Persians served them fresh milk of the day, lamb, pigeon and cattle meat, with garlic, onions, sweetened whey, sweetened apples, oil of sweet almonds, juice, of course wine, palm wine and grape wine. 

 

- Oh…If we stayed here for a month, I don’t think my horse will be able to carry me –said grandfather Demetrios, after that splendid banquet, with a cute round belly full of happiness.

 

- This is delicious, daddy –said Achilles eating the sweetened apples with a big smile.

 

- Aki don’t talk with your mouth full –he father scolded him, cleaning his mouth.

 

- I have never eaten something like this –said Kyros, licking his finger after finishing the pigeon’s meat—After so many days eating the army’s rations this is like reaching the Elysian Fields. 

 

Hephaistion sighed.

 

- What’s wrong? –asked grandfather Demetrios, emptying his third cup of wine.

 

- Nothing, I was just thinking in Alexander.

 

- How so?

 

- Well he has been eating really bad lately –said Hephaistion and his grandfather laughed.

 

- Son, when your lover conquest this –he stretched his arms to cover his surroundings—He will be eating even better every day.

 

The General smiled. His grandfather was right; when Alexander conquest this…

 

It was until next day that Darius called Hephaistion; Xsayarsa went personally to look for him and guided him to the Great King’s presence. The General had to admit that the cloths Xsayarsa had given him were spending, a blue chiton of linen with a magnificent embroidery. Grandfather Demetrios and Achilles went with him, they also wearing splendid cloths, because, according to his Persian guide, if the Great King’s letter said he was expecting him with his family, then he must go with his family.  

 

- Remember Peris never speak before his mightiness and do not look him at the eye –said Xsayarsa, as always followed by his personal servant.

 

- Stop calling me Peris –said Hephaistion tired, seeing with interest how, as they approached to the center of the camp, the tents were even more luxurious and the servants dressed in better cloths—What does Peris mean?

 

- You are not paying attention, and if you don’t behave my head would be in jeopardize –said Xsayarsa almost hysterically—Can you imagine? Me? Without head? –he shook his head—What a waste to the world! 

 

- I will not listen to you until you tell me what does Peris means? –Hephaistion held his gaze and the Persian fanned himself.

 

- Fine… Peris is a spirit of great beauty who guide mortals on their way to the Land of the Blessed…and he also fights –explained Xsayarsa very quickly, making him blushed— But I was saying, you must behave, and don’t contradict the Great King…Oh! One more thing, I almost forgot –he took his hands to his cheeks—I have many problems with you barbarians, because you always refused to do the proskynesis.

 

- The what? –the Persian rolled his eyes.

 

- To prostrate yourself in front of his highness –Hephaistion laughed as if he had just heard a great joke.

 

- You want me to prostrate myself in front of Darius? –he said among laughs.

 

- SHUSH!!! You insolent beautiful barbarian –Xsayarsa scolded him—Who do you think you are to pronounce his divinity’s name?… You Greeks, “most civilized men of the world” my round tushy –he grumbled. 

 

- Well, Xsa-Xsa…

 

- Xsayarsa –said the Persian extremely serious, his eyes so narrowed that they looked like 2 perfect lines—I’m not surprise, you Greeks can never pronounce my name correctly –he shook his head—Call me Yarsa.

 

- Right, Yarsa…We have a problem –said Hephaistion, cleaning his tears with the back of his hand—There is no way in hell to make me prostrate in front of the Great King.

 

The Persian sighed.

 

- You Greeks are IMPOSSIBLE, do you hear me?…At least bow…

 

- That I can do.

 

- Thank you “your highness” –Xsayarsa mocked him.

 

- Ey, Persian! –said grandfather Demetrios arriving to where they were talking, holding Achilles by the hand. Hephaistion saw how Xsayarsa’s face turned purple, apparently he didn’t like to be called “Persian”—I want to ask you something, are you a…?

 

- An eunuch? –Xsayarsa guessed—That’s all that you Greeks want to know, “Ey, Yarsa, is true? Aren’t you a complete man?” –he said mocking the mercenaries—Well, it’s true, happy now?  

 

- But –said Hephaistion frowning, remembering his conversations with Memnon—I thought eunuchs were in charge of the Great King’s bedroom.

 

- Well, well –the Persian crossed his arms—Someone here knows a little about the Persian court. It’s true, eunuchs have to attend the Great King and the Princesses, but when we got old…well, I’m not as young as I look, and I was very lucky to be a great administrator, so this divine majesty gave a post as the provider of his barbarian mercenaries….and why am I telling you all of this? –Xsayarsa started pushing Hephaistion—Walk, we can’t leave his divinity waiting and we still have to pass through all the security. 

 

- Daddy? –Achilles called him, running to where he was to take him by the hand—Where are we going?

 

- I told you Aki, to meet the Great King –explained Hephaistion smiling at his son.

 

- How touching, you don’t have a wife, female slave, concubine, mistress? –asked Xsayarsa, watching father and son.

 

- No, I don’t, as I told you yesterday.

 

- And who takes care of him? –he Persian pointed at Achilles with his chin.

 

- Me.

 

When Xsayarsa said they had to get through the security, Hephaistion thought that the guards would take all their weapons, and do something more or less like they did in Macedonia, after all, since he was in charge of Alexander’s security, he knew how these things worked, but, nothing prepare him for what happened next.

 

First, Darius tent was, literally a small palace, “a cloth and leather monument of impressive dimensions […] raised on columns 15 m high [and] the interior of this portable palace measured nearly 700 m in circumference”(2) Hephaistion, grandfather Demetrios and Achilles watched it’s impressive entrance with big round eyes; but if they thought the exterior was majestic, the interior left them breathless, everything there was accommodated to resemble as closely as possible the rooms that the Great King had in his palaces, this in order that Darius did not miss his home and feel the discomforts of the travel.

 

Of course, the first thing the guards did was to interrogate them and then, take all their weapons, and search them in case they were hiding something, even Achilles was searched.

 

- Grandpa! –Hephaistion scolded him when Demetrios didn’t want to give his magnificent swords to a guard.

 

- All right, but you better take good care of them, or I will flay you all! –grandfather Demetrios threatened the Persians, who, by the way, didn’t spoke a word of Greek.

 

Xsayarsa rolled his eyes.

 

For Hephaistion utterly astonishment they had to pass numerous obstacles and go through various check points; not one, not two, not three but SEVEN check points before arriving to the place where the secretaries were. Xsayarsa pushed Hephaistion and moved his head indicating that he had to approach the secretaries sitting at a magnificent desk of carved wood, over a carpet embroidered with gold thread. The General had no idea of what he was supposed to do, but he approached. One man was standing near the secretaries, and he asked in perfect Greek. 

 

- Your name, please –for what the Macedonian saw, he must be the interpreter. The secretaries never looked at him, they were very busy writing.

 

- Hephaistion son of Amyntor –the secretaries wrote quickly.

 

- Your homeland?

 

- Pella in Macedonia –one of the secretaries asked something in Persian, and the interpreter turned to see Hephaistion again.

 

- I beg your pardon, sir –he said with perfect manners—Where is Macedonia?

 

- At the north of Greece –the interpreter explained, and the secretary nodded and continued writing.

 

- Profession?

 

- I am…a soldier.

 

- What is your reason for visiting the Great King? 

 

WHAT?! –thought Hephaistion.

 

- He summoned me.

 

The interpreter smiled sweetly.

 

- Of course he summoned you, sir. If that wasn’t the case you wouldn’t be here –he explained and the Macedonian felt like a stupid—For what reason have you been summoned?

 

- To be hired as a mercenary General –the interpreter nodded.

 

Hephaistion noted that another of the secretaries were watching at him intently, paying especial attention to his cloths and making him feel very uncomfortable. 

 

I know what you are thinking because I was thinking the same thing: what the hell? Later I knew that this was the standard protocol, and all the information I gave was written in a register along with a description of my clothing and my person.

 

After that, the group was taken to another “room” with an enormous portrait of Darius. Xsayarsa run to stand at Hephaistion’s side.

 

- All right, Persis –he took a handkerchief to clean the sweat from his forehead—You have to…em…to bow in front of the portrait. 

 

- WHAT?!

 

- Shush!!!  You have to commit yourself in advance of making a proskynesis before the Great King; if you don’t do this, you would only be able to communicate by messages, and you are not be able to speak with his mightiness –explained the Persian. 

 

- I told you, I’m not making a proskynesis –Xsayarsa fanned himself.

 

- You are going to KILL ME…wait here –the Persian went to talk to a man at the end of the “room”.

 

- What now? –asked grandfather Demetrios—Does he went to powder his nose? 

 

- He wants me to prostrate in front of Darius –now was his grandfather’s turn to laugh. 

 

Several minutes later, Xsayarsa came back.

 

- You are a headache, darling –said the Persian—But his graciousness, in all his kindness is willing to give you an audience without the proskynesis…but you have to bow.

 

- Fine –Hephaistion brushed his hair behind his ear. He was nervous, he had to concentrate and use all his wits to gain the Great King’s trust if he wanted his plan to succeed. 

 

Hephaistion saw that many people were waiting there, and judging by their way of dressing and the fragments of conversations that floated to him, many of these people came from very far away; they were petitioners, waiting to have an audience with the Great King. 

 

All this to see a man –thought Hephaistion—In Macedonia everybody can see the King and call him by his name.

 

Achilles pulled his chiton and the General bent to see his son.

 

- What’s wrong? –he asked in Macedonian, he was sure that the walls had ears in that place.

 

- Who are all these people? –asked the boy with curiosity.

 

- I suppose that men who want to speak to the Great King. 

 

- All of them want to talk to him? –asked Achilles opening his mouth—But they are too many.

 

- Yes, Aki that’s why they are waiting –explained Hephaistion—Not all of them can see him at the same time.

 

- But my uncle never has so many people waiting to see him, and he is a King too.

 

- Yes, but your uncle…is a King of a smaller land, he doesn’t have so many subjects –the General tried to explain.

 

- Are all these people barbarians?

 

- Who told you that? Grandpa? –Achilles shook his head.

 

- Professor Kallisthenes told me that all Persians are barbarians and that is fine to conquer them –said the boy.

 

- Well, first of all don’t say that here, or you can offend someone –said Hephaistion—And second…I’m not so sure that they are barbarians, Aki.

 

- Why not? –asked Achilles with curiosity.

 

- Look around you; have you ever seen a place like this before? –he boy shook his head again—Me neither, and a friend once told me that the Persians are even more civilized than we are –he said remembering Memnon’s words—I think we are just different, not better or worst than them. 

 

- So, professor Kallisthenes lied to me?

 

- No, he didn’t lied, he just have different ideas…that’s all –said Hephaistion, brushing aside the locks on his son’s face—What you have to learn Aki, is to have your own ideas, not think what other people say. Do you understand what I am saying?

 

- I guess –his father kissed his head.

 

Finally, after a long wait he and his family were taken to the presence of the Great King.

 

- Listen to me very carefully –said Xsayarsa very nervous– You CAN’T approach his greatness without his permission, do you hear me? There is only one penalty to any man or woman who approaches the Great King in the inner court without permission: DEATH!

 

- I hear you; you don’t have to yell –said Hephaistion.

 

The cupbearer, a man named Sacas, played the role of the introducer, his duty was to present to the Great King those who had business with him and of keeping out those whom he thought it would not be necessary to admit (3) called Hephaistion, and the Macedonian felt his heart hitting with force his chest.

 

The improvise audience chamber of the Great King’s tent was more luxurious and sumptuous that the whole royal palace back at Pella. In his naivety, Hephaistion was expecting to meet the Great King alone, with his guards yes, but relatively alone. But nothing prepared him for the crowd he found inside: nobles, eunuchs (who served as messengers) officers, house staff, and no more and no less than 500 guards and women, not the Great King’s wives, since this kind of spectacles weren’t appropriate for noble women, but his concubines, 360 of the most beautiful women the Macedonians had ever seen, were there. Hephaistion surveyed the guards; these were tough men, ready to strike in case the life of the Great King was in danger.

 

Whoever said the Persians were cowards never saw these guys –thought the General watching them closely, their cloaks of purple and quince yellow; these men were called the “apple bearers” and, the same as the Immortals, were the elite of the Persian army—Right…I wasn’t expecting this –thought Hephaistion, trying to swallow when he noticed that all the eyes were settle on him.

 

Darius was sitting on a golden throne that appeared to be more the throne of Zeus than one of a mortal man, Hephaistion would have never dare to imagine that one man could be surrounded by so much luxury and display of power; not even the temples of the Gods back in Greece were as richly adorned as this “hall” was.

 

He took his mysterious gray eyes to Darius, the man. He was nothing as the General had imagined. After all the jokes the Macedonian soldiers made about him, he had expected someone less…majestic, yes that was the word. But, he truly looked like a Great King: tall, handsome, with beautiful tanned skin, deep dark eyes and powerful constitution. He was sitting with his leg crossed, ankle on his knee, his elbow on the throne and his cheek resting against his hand. Unlike the rest of the Persian nobles, he had no beard.

 

The General had to bow in front of him.

 

- So, you are the famous Hephaistion who killed Dardanos? –asked Darius, with interest, when the 3 Macedonians (or better said, the 2 and a half Macedonians) stopped a few paces from him.

 

- Yes, I am…—Xsayarsa made him exaggerated gestures from among the crowd—Your… majesty –he felt so awkward saying “your majesty” to someone.

 

The Great King watched him with attention, curiosity, admiration and envy. When Memnon had said the General was beautiful, he had imagined many things, but not this…Hephaistion could make the flowers sigh, and, for a man as vain as Darius this was a blow to his ego…but at the same time, the sole vision of him made every fiber of his body burn in lust.

 

- Memnon was right –said the Great King in his perfect Attic Greek, hiding his emotions and thoughts—You truly are a handsome man Hephaistion, you a… —he moved his finger looking for the correct word—You have a epicene beauty in you, but you are also masculine …interesting; I have only seen that in boys not in a grown up man. I can see why you are the lover of the Macedonian King. 

 

Good spies –thought the General, remembering his grandfather’s words.

 

- I was the lover of the Macedonian King…your majesty –he lied.

 

- How so? If this, so called King, cast a man like you aside, he is a fool –said Darius with interest—What happened? 

 

Hephaistion had thought a lot about this, and by now he had the perfect answer.

 

- I had a son with his sister –that made Darius, and the men who could understand Greek, laughed.

 

- A son? –the Great King repeated, his dark eyes settled on the beautiful 4 year old standing at the side of grandfather Demetrios—I assume, this boy is your son.

 

- Yes, he is my son, your majesty.

 

- I want to see him –Hephaistion took his son by the hand and advanced 2 steps. Achilles wanted to hide behind his father but the General didn’t let him, holding his arm with force. Darius leaned to the front—What a beautiful boy! Have you ever consider the possibility of castrate him?

 

The General’s eyes shone dangerously, scaring the guards near the Great King.

 

- No –there was something in his voice that made the 500 guards take their hands to their swords. Even Darius felt a shiver running down his spine, and that scared him at the same time that fascinated him. This man in front of him wasn’t an ordinary man…he had a beauty that could make the Gods blush but he was also deadly, and for what he had heard, very strong—My son is not an animal to be castrated.

 

- His majesty didn’t mean to offend you –said Bessus, his Greek wasn’t as good as the Great King but it was understandable—It’s a common practice among us to castrate beautiful and promising boys to serve at the court. In Egypt, Greek, only eunuchs can have the post of the Lord High Chamberlain, many fathers castrate their own sons in other for them to accede to the most important positions.  

 

- Well, that is not a practice we have in Macedonia –said Hephaistion, still in that tone that was chilling their blood. He had to calm down, but there were 2 things in the world that could make him lose his temper: if someone insulted or threatened Alexander or Achilles.

 

- Where is Amyntas? –asked Darius suddenly. 

 

Amyntas? –thought the General confused.

 

- I’m here your majesty.

 

A Macedonian man of pale blond hair and brown eyes appeared from among the crowd. Hephaistion had only seen him once, years ago, when King Philip was still alive, he was…Amyntas son of Antiochus, yes, he thought that was his name. But, this Amyntas guy had fled from Macedonia just after the murder of King Philip. What was he doing here?…Unless, he had something to do with the murder and had looked for refugee in the only place Alexander couldn’t reach him…Interesting.

 

- Amyntas, do you know Hephaistion? –asked the Great King.

 

- Yes, Great King, he is…was Alexander’s best friend –said Amyntas. For a moment Hephaistion feared his compatriot would see through his plans, after all, anyone who had seen him and Alexander together would think twice before believing they had broke up just because he had a son with Cleopatra.

 

The General narrowed his eyes. Amyntas was calm, even smiling very comfortable, as if having Hephaistion there was somehow reassuring for him. But, why?  

 

- Enough of this –said Darius, waving his hand full with heavy rings—I want to hear how was that you defeated Dardanos –he said, going to the point of his interest—I saw him fight many times, he was a demon, and I have only seen one man stronger than him. You fought against the Hell Hound and you are here –he stretched both hands to the front— And with all your limbs…didn’t he left you any scars?

 

- He did, he almost killed me –said Hephaistion, making an effort for remain calm—He pierced my side and…

 

- Really? I want to see that.

 

- See what? –asked Hephaistion confused.

 

- Your scar.

 

Excuse me? –for a moment the Macedonian thought he was joking, he wanted to ask: Here? Now? But Darius’ eyes told him everything he needed to know. He sighed, and released his son’s hand, remembering himself that he was doing this for Alexander.

 

Hephaistion unleashed his clothes at the shoulder, carefully and slowly exposing his creamy skin, his slender figure and soft rolling stomach muscles. He never had a musculature like Krateros, who could compete in a bodybuilding contest, but his figure was the one that all men should have. Hephaistion retained his breath feeling nervous, his stomach slightly sinking, and that sent a warm tickle through the concubines’ body, who couldn’t take their eyes off him; the General’s long hair slid over his shoulder, and the fabric, that covered half of his torso, was like a static caress on that skin that seemed too soft to be real. The only imperfection that Darius could find in him was the horrible sawn scar that Dardanos had left him.

 

Some of the people present there gasp at the sight of the horrible scar, but many did it when they saw how perfection looked like…especially the concubines who blushed savagely at the sight of that body. The Great King, for his part, was torn between two powerful feelings: envy at the sight of that monument that could steal someone’s reason; and desire, to have someone like him.

 

And to think that a King from a backwater place had this…God under him –thought the Persian King.

 

- That is quite a scar, Hephaistion –said Darius after a while, when he remembered how to speak. The Macedonian tied his cloths again—You know why did I want to meet you?

 

- Because you want someone to take General Memnon’s post?

 

- That is one reason, but I wanted to meet the man who was capable of defeating the Hell Hound –explained the Great King—I want to see you fight, and if you win this fight I will hire you as my new commander.

 

For some reason, Hephaistion didn’t like this. 

 

- Against who am I suppose to fight? –Darius smile was huge.

 

- The only man who could scare Dardanos –definitely Hephaistion didn’t like this. 

 

The Great King made a signal and a man appeared. He wasn’t as tall or as monstrous as Dardanos, in fact, the General and the newcomer were about the same height. The man was covered in dark and silver cloths, his head covered with a turban that didn’t see his hair, and his eyes were of a gray so pale that looked almost white. Hephaistion’s senses screamed DANGER! There was something in this man that made him feel uneasy.  

 

- This is Kingu –said Sacas, the cupbearer. The man made a slightly bow in the Macedonian direction, never taking his unnerving eyes off him.

 

- Just Kingu? Not the Great Kingu or the Invincible Kingu or the Deadly Kingu? –asked grandfather Demetrios, unable to restrain himself for talking. 

 

- Kingu is the name of one of our Gods –explained Sacas—Who fought at the side of Tiamat and is from his blood that all men were born.

 

- Nice –whispered Hephaistion very serious, still thinking that this man was the most dangerous man he had ever seen.

 

- What do you say, Hephaistion? –asked Darius with interest and excitement—I won’t give you the high command of my troops unless you defeat Kingu.

 

Excellent way of judging a man’s abilities to command an army –thought the Macedonian with sarcasm—Alexander would never believe this.

 

- Fine, lets do this.

 

XXX

(1) Arrian. The Campaigns of Alexander, p 110. 

(2) Pierre Briant. From Cyrus to Alexander: A History of the Persian Empire, p 256 

(3) Pierre Briant. From Cyrus to Alexander: A History of the Persian Empire, p 259

 

All right, I have to explain something. I know that all Persians used beards, but I have burned in my mind Peter Chung’s version of Darius, so I’m sorry but this Darius is not going to have a beard. 

 

All the information I used here about the Persians is true; I hope I haven’t bored you, but I found all of this very interesting and I couldn’t restrain myself of including so much information ^_^