Chapter 135

 

CHAPTER 135

 

Persepolis, literally the city of the Persians, was as old as the Achaemenid dynasty itself; Cyrus the Great had chosen this place and Darius I had built the city…Yes, he also built this city, in fact he was famous because of his construction projects, many of the great monuments of the Achaemenid dynasty existed thanks to him and his son Xerxes –yes, the same Xerxes of the Battle of the Thermopylae— When he wasn’t invading Greece he followed in his father’s steps, embellishing several cities, he built the Gate of all Nations that was here at Persepolis and the Hall of a Hundred Columns in the royal palace, for example.

 

But I’m rambling again. Persepolis wasn’t only a beautiful place it was also sacred. I know that this may not tell you much, after all only a few walls and pillars stand now in the place where once flourished this city, so let me explain it this way: Persepolis was like Jerusalem or Mecca, now imagine Alexander letting his men to kill all adult males at Jerusalem or to plunder Mecca, do you understand now the gravity of the situation? I could hardly reprehend Achilles for voicing his opinion about the King’s orders when I was thinking the same, though I agreed with Alexander in just one thing: it wasn’t the time or place for a 7 years old to contradict the King.

 

Still, I was mad at Alexander because of this: Achilles had made a mistake, but he was a child, whereas Alexander was 25 years old, and he should have reacted in a more mature way, or at least that was what I thought at that time. And I stayed angry with him for a while…

 

- I…I…I…can’t…believe this…atrocity…—sobbed Xsayarsa, standing in front of the big window in Hephaistion’s room, he was holding his handkerchief in one hand with such force that his knuckles were white, and was fanning himself with the other. He looked so bad that the General thought he was going to faint or to suffer a stroke, his servant Atash had gone to look for a tea to calm down the eunuch’s nerves and hopefully to help him sleep.

 

Achilles was alone in his room, Hephaistion had talked to him after the King’s meeting and to his surprise the boy was calmer than he; the Prince understood his mistake but was still feeling bad, after all he wasn’t use to be scolded, even less in public, and felt terribly humiliated. He would need time to heal his wounded pride, but all in all he wasn’t as upset as Hephaistion. 

 

I need to calm down, but I don’t know how –thought the General, still angry. There were so many things in his mind, he was tired, physically and mentally, after their hard march through the mountains, he was still impressed by the sight of the mutilated Greeks, concerned by the consequences of sacking Persepolis…Not that he believed in divine retribution, but he believed in the very real possibility of a revolt; they still had no idea of Darius whereabouts, he had a hunch that Parmelio was planning something and now this—Alexander couldn’t have chosen a worst moment to humiliate Aki.    

 

Xsayarsa cried even harder when they heard a horrible high-pitched scream coming from outside and Kyros patted his back. He understood how the eunuch felt, watching his city being sacked and he knew that there was nothing they could say to make Xsayarsa feel better, they could only stay at his side and hold his hand; only time would help the Persian to make this memory more bearable.    

 

- Yarsa, go to your room –said Hephaistion, standing up—You are only tormenting yourself in the window –he walked to the door. He knew he should say something else, try to comfort the eunuch in some way but he had no head for that in those moments. Besides, what could he say? I’m sorry that my bigheaded lover is destroying your sacred city? He shook his head and stepped on the hallway.  

 

He was angry, tired, worried and the screams coming from the street, the sounds of destruction didn’t help to calm him down, on the contrary, his nerves were on edge. The General didn’t want to be in his room, didn’t want to be outside, didn’t want to be with Alexander, didn’t want to be alone, but didn’t want to be with Xsayarsa and Kyros...he didn’t know what to do. He puffed his cheeks out, striding through the hallway heading to nowhere in particular.

 

What he really wanted was to shout until he had no more energy and kick something. He understood Alexander was angry, but he was tired of his angry outburst, why had he always be the one remaining silence while the King shouted? He also had problems and he had never vent his anger on the blond, he wasn’t Alexander personal punch bag, and certainly neither was his son…Maybe that was what really bother him, he had learned to cope with the King’s temper, but why Achilles had to suffer this?

 

Why do I have to suffer that for that matter? –thought Hephaistion in a terrible mood. He punched the wall with force, cursing so hard that the terrified servants ran away. He needed fresh air; yes, fresh air was a great idea. He strode to the closest balcony; it had been so long since the last time he was this angry, maybe this was also the problem, he had accumulated anger, small things that he let pass had transformed into something big and now was exploding.  

 

I didn’t ventured outside but I had a great view from the royal palace. I had seen many times the same scenario that unfolded before my eyes that night, men at their worst while they plundered and sacked a city, and this time I was sure it would be worst because Alexander had done a great job portraying Persepolis as the most hateful of all the cities of Asia, and not only that, many rich men lived here, so you can imagine it was like paradise to our soldiers. Paradise or hell? Again it depended on whom you ask, an orgy of blood and greed for the Persians, but a great opportunity for the Macedonians to get their hands on riches beyond their imagination.

 

 

I believed it would justify the means

It had a hold over me

Blinded to see the cruelty of the beast

It is the darker side of me

The veil of my dreams deceived all I have seen

Forgive me for what I have been

Forgive me my sins

(The Truth Beneath the Rose, Within Temptation)

 

It was late when I decided to go back inside, I had to attend to my duties and I had to look for my second in command trying my best to avoid the King.

 

The royal palace was like another world, Hephaistion reflected, outside was chaos, blood and gore, inside the royal complex was luxury, order, beauty, riches and outstanding pieces of art accumulated during centuries of splendor. But Hephaistion was still too angry to admire his surroundings, the hundred columned hall of Xerxes, the winged lion-griffin or the lion headed demon stabbed by the Persian King, all of this was meaningless in those moments and the General walked in front of these monuments as if they didn’t exist. 

 

-The King spent the day inside the palace, sir –his second in command informed him—And I can’t be more grateful for that; outside is madness, I even hear that our lads are fighting each other over the plunder.

 

- That doesn’t surprise me –said Hephaistion, his eyes on the tall walls adorned with gold and jewels—We’ll keep a small guard near the King, the Persians may have surrendered the city but I don’t trust them, some of them can try to take revenge for their city and attack the King.

 

- Yes, sir. My thoughts exactly –Dismas admitted.

 

- We’ll also…

 

- Hephaistion! –both men turned and found the King standing a few paces from them—A word –Alexander didn’t wait for an answer and he started to walk.

 

The General sighed. He had hopped to pass unnoticed but apparently the King had heard his voice; he was in no mood to deal with an angry Alexander, currently his patience-meter was marking cero, but he couldn’t disobey…not again. This was the hardest part of being dating the King, there were times when he had to separate his personal life to attend his duties, but it was so difficult, as time passed it was more and more complicated.

 

For Alexander had always being easier to accomplish this, somehow, the King always knew how to establish the difference between his friends and the King’s friends, his duties and his wishes…unless he was angry in which case everything went to the thrash can. 

 

At first Hephaistion thought he could do it too, to establish the difference between his lover, his Alex, and the King…Now, he understood that he couldn’t. Wise men had to accept their limitations, and the General now knew this was his weak point.

 

He followed Alexander to an empty living room, again the servants appeared to have vanished, the impressive hallways were empty and quiet like a tomb illuminated my several oil lamps with a pleasant smell; undoubtedly expensive oil, usually the cheap one burned making too much smoke and smelt terrible.

 

Why am I thinking about the oil? –Hephaistion asked himself, closing the door behind him and waited until the King spoke.

 

- You disobeyed me! –said Alexander, pointing at him with his finger. He was drunk, very drunk, the General could tell at once, and his terrible mood was even worst thanks to the alcohol. 

 

- You humiliated my son –answered Hephaistion, holding his gaze.

 

- Achilles challenged my authority, and you know it –he paced around, like a wild beast ready to strike.  

 

- I know but that wasn’t a justification for talking to him in the way you did –said the General, his voice firm—You are angry because he contradicted you in public –he approached the blond—Admit that you retaliate against a child! You can’t treat a 7 year old boy like any other of your men.

 

Alexander stopped pacing and saw the General as if he didn’t know him. Was his beloved serious? If there was something the King didn’t tolerate was disobedience, Achilles had disrespected him in public and Hephaistion was acting as if he were the villain there. 

 

- Krateros is right; you are acting like a goose mother hiding Achilles under your wings –that hurt Hephaistion more than a blow. Krateros was right?—He is a Macedonian Prince.

 

- He is my son! –the General raised his voice—I never wanted him to be a Prince, and I never asked you to name him your heir, but I let you do as you wish. I always let you do as you wish! 

 

- I’m the King and you have to obey me.

 

- That doesn’t mean I have to agree with you always –said Hephaistion holding his gaze—And so it happens that I think Achilles is right.

 

- You don’t approve of my decision here? –the King closed the distance between them and Hephaistion perceived the strong smell of wine.

 

- If you know the answer why are you asking? –Alexander took his General’s arm with force and slammed him against the wall behind him. It was so sudden that Hephaistion didn’t react in time to stop him.

 

There was simply too many things in the King’s mind and was in no mood to be arguing: the sack of the city, Ariobarzanes’ attack at the Persian Gates, the refusal of the Persians to crown him Great King, Darius, Parmelio’s constant nagging, Achilles, and now, the only person in the world who always brought him peace was questioning his decisions.

 

He wasn’t thinking correctly, the anger and the wine clouded his judgment, and found a way to vent his anger on his General. He held Hephaistion’s gaze, it never ceased to surprise him how was that his General was the only one who could do that, and suddenly watching those fierce eyes on him, adorning that face that looked only more beautiful with that haughty expression of defiance, feeling that firm body against his own, made him feel a hot tickling spreading inside him. Alexander moved closer, almost hypnotized, not thinking what he was doing just reacting, he looked for his beloved’s lips but Hephaistion turned his face away. 

 

- Are you out of your mind? –asked the General through clenched teeth, but as an answer the King tried to force him, to kiss him while his hand slid between his legs. He was the Great King, even if the Persians didn’t like the idea, and he would have everything he wanted. Everything—Let me go! –he demanded.  

 

- Now you are giving me orders? –he mocked the General, reaching his manhood.

 

That ended with Hephaistion’s patience. He pushed the King back with force, and Alexander stumbled against a table sending a vase crashing to the ground.

 

- If you have the idea that you can humiliate my son, yell at me and then fuck me as if I were your damn slave, you are out of your mind –said Hephaistion with strong voice and with that he headed to the door.

 

XXX

 

Next days were a nightmare for everyone in the palace and everyone who had to be near Alexander…or Hephaistion. Both were in a terrible mood, not speaking to each other, drinking more than usual, and to make things worst the general mood in the city was dreadful, for obvious reasons. If the Persians didn’t like Alexander when he arrived, they despised him now, the Magi were particularly hostile, portraying him like a “demon of disheveled hair of the day of wrath” sent for their destruction, and according to them Alexander couldn’t be crown Great King because he wasn’t the chosen one of Ahura Mazda, how could he be if he didn’t believe in him and destroyed his sacred city? He wasn’t part of the Seven Noble Families, and for the Persian aristocracy was nothing more than a barbarian.

 

No, the situation wasn’t any good for the Macedonian King, but still, he insisted in remaining in Persepolis, instead of continuing with Darius’ pursuit, because he wanted to wait for the celebration of the Persian New Year Festival. The Persians would have to suffer his presence for at least 6 months. And it was in those circumstances that the Macedonian King received a very peculiar embassy.  

 

- Who? –asked Alexander, frowning. It was not strange for the King to receive foreign envoys and delegations seeking his help or support regarding a particular matter, he usually received the visit of the Greeks, more recently of Asian cities, but this…

 

- A man named Quintus Fabius Maximus Rullianus, the leader of a foreign delegation, is asking for an audience with you –explained Eumenes again. 

 

- What a strange name, he is not Greek, isn’t he? –asked the King intrigued.

 

- No sire, he is Roman.

 

Now that sound more familiar and the King immediately remembered his adventure in Carthage and Italy looking for Hephaistion after he was sold as a slave by Darius…Hephaistion, he was still angry with him, it had been almost a week since their argument but the General refused to apologize and he wasn’t going to apologize first, he had nothing to be sorry about. His beloved shouldn’t have disobeyed him, besides Achilles made a mistake, who heard of a 7 years old contradicting his father in public? And not even his father, but the King, the Great King!…

 

- Sire! –Eumenes raised his voice, successfully taking him out of his thoughts, for the look on his face he had been calling him several times—What do I say to Quintus Fabius?

 

The King took a moment to arrange his thoughts; this whole situation with Hephaistion was driving him crazy.

 

- Do you know what do they want? –Alexander rested his back against the chair.

 

- Yes, sire –the secretary cleared his throat—They want to discuss about the problem of piracy at the Adriatic.

 

Alexander sighed, he turned to the window where a magnificent view of the city greeted him, it was such a beautiful morning, the sky was a perfect blue without clouds, the weather was great, not too cold and not too hot, the birds singing, but the atmosphere in Persepolis hardly could be worst. He was in no mood to deal with others’ problems but it was better to finish with this as soon as possible.

 

- I’ll receive them now.

 

XXX

 

- Phai! Phai! –Leonnatos and Perdikkas called him, finding their friend at the garden training Achilles. Since his seventh birthday the General was teaching him fencing during his free time, which until now hadn’t been much, but Alexander was planning to stay at Persepolis for at east 6 months, so he had plenty of time to train him, for his son’s utterly delight.

 

Hephaistion stopped 2 thrusts without difficulty and before the Prince could react he disarmed him, sending the 2 wooden swords flying directly to the bushes, scaring a couple of birds.

 

- Aki you are not paying attention to your defense –said his father. Achilles bent over, panting, his hands on his thighs and his forehead covered in sweat.

 

- I’m… trying…but…—the boy took a deep breath—It’s so difficult to…use…two swords…

 

The General left his wooden swords on the ground, and approached him.

 

- Aki, I told you it was difficult, but you don’t have to do it, I can’t teach you “normal” fencing –but Achilles shook his head—Grandpa was crazy when he decided to fight without a shield and no one is going to blame you for fighting like everybody else. 

 

- No! –the boy lifted his head, in his uneven eyes Hephaistion could read the same determination of Alexander…Alexander, he hadn’t apologized since their argument a week ago, and if he was waiting for his General to make the first move he could wait seated—I want to fight like you, I don’t want to be like everybody else –said Achilles so sure of what he was saying that made his father very proud.

 

- Wow! Our next King is going to fight with 2 swords? –asked Perdikkas, walking to them. 

 

- What are you doing here? –Hephaistion wanted to know, heading to the table to take a cup with water.

 

- Couldn’t we just come to visit you? –asked Perdikkas, feigning a hurtful tone.

 

- Still angry with Alexander? –asked Leonnatos, dropping on the nearest couch.

 

- What do you think? –the General sat down at his side.

 

- So, you don’t know about the embassy that came today? –asked the taxiarch, taking a cup of watered wine from a servant—I thought you knew.

 

- What embassy? –asked Hephaistion, watching Achilles taking his swords again to practice. The Prince was left-handed, and he was having big problems learning to hold a sword with his right hand, but was determined to do it.  

 

- They came for this place…what is it called? –Leonnatos frowned—From where is your friend, the one who bought you at Carthage.

 

Hephaistion’s heart skipped a beat.

 

- Rome?

 

- That place! –exclaimed Leonnatos, snapping his fingers—I saw your friend outside Alexander’s audience chamber and…

 

And Hephaistion never heard the rest, he left them, running to the audience chamber, leaving behind a very confused trio.

 

Publius is here? But that’s impossible –thought the General, running through the impressive hallways built under the orders of the Great King Darius I as if he were a teenager—Leon must be mistaken –but even if his rational part said over and over again that there simply wasn’t a way for his friend to be there, his heart kept beating savagely.

 

Finally, he arrived to the audience chamber. In the past week he had tried his best to stay away from Alexander’s rooms, his study, the audience chamber and every place where it was likely to find him, which didn’t mean he had neglected his duties, he just didn’t want to see the King. 

 

The first thing he found was very peculiar group dressed in the most strange way he had ever seen; they were 5 men: 2 were at least 40 years old, the other 2 just a few years younger, and the last one who was talking to Eumenes…Hephaistion smiled immensely happy, it was his friend Scipio.

 

- Publius! –he called him, walking to the group. The other 4 men of the delegation turned to look at him with frowns. Publius? Who was he to call the Senator by his first name? 

 

Scipio returned the smile and for Eumenes, and the rest of the Roman delegation, surprise, they embraced.

 

- Why didn’t you tell me? What are you doing here? –asked a very happy Hephaistion, his bad mood disappeared in a second.

 

- I wanted to surprise you –said Scipio, he looked exactly as the General remembered him, just his chestnut hair was shorter than the last time, but his dark blue eyes and the silky strand crossing his face was the same—And why am I here? Well, that will take time to explain. 

 

- Publius Cornelius –called him the older of the group, Quintus Fabius Maximus Rullianus. They both talked in Latin and Hephaistion didn’t understand one word; the older man nodded a couple of times saw the General frowning and after a few words the group left them. 

 

- What was that? –asked Hephaistion intrigued.

 

- Nothing, I told them I’m staying…if it’s fine with you.

 

- Of course it is! –exclaimed the General—Come, you have much to explain, I…

 

- Hephaistion –Alexander’s voice erased his smile. The King wasn’t happy, that much was obvious, even for Scipio who didn’t know him, but why was he angry? Well, Hephaistion had been mad at him for a week, and now that he found his Roman friend and couldn’t look happier. He was jealous, which was a terrible combination with his bad mood, the perfect recipe for disaster.

 

- Do you need something, sire? –the cold tone of his voice caught the Roman’s attention.

 

- You are going to supervise the transportation of the treasury to Susa –the General clenched his jaw. He knew why Alexander was doing this; he wanted to have him away from his friend.

 

- Now, sire?

 

- No, next month General –said the King sarcastically with a half smile that made Hephaistion’s blood burn, even more watching that smile of infinite happiness on Eumenes’ face, as if all his wishes had come true in that moment. The secretary was about to dance, jump and sing, seeing that at last the King was putting the haughty General in his place; what a glorious day.  

 

Don’t hit Eumenes, don’t hit Eumenes, don’t hit Eumenes –Hephaistion repeated like a mantra, making a supreme effort to stay calm.

 

Alexander left them giving Scipio one last look before leaving with Eumenes behind him like his lap dog and Hephaistion puffed his cheeks out, he was at one step to start breathing fire like a dragon. 

 

- Did I do something? –asked Scipio confused.

 

- No, it’s not your fault.

 

- If you are busy we can talk later –the General nodded.

 

- Come tonight, we’ll dine together –said Hephaistion.

 

XXX

 

Alexander’s plan was to move the treasury from Persepolis to Susa and then to Babylon, an impressive sum of 120,000 Talents that had been accumulated since the days of Cyrus the Great, and that now, in the hands of the Macedonian King, transformed him in the richest man on earth. It was a tremendous task, Hephaistion had to gather every single pack animal to transport this amazing fortune, which was more difficult than he had thought. 

 

- Sir, the locals say we’ll need 3000 Asiatic camels to transport the entire treasury –said one man, pointing at the camels that had been brought during the week, gathered at a great open space not too far from the royal palace.

 

- How many camels do we have now? –asked the General, his eyes on the parchment with the list of objects that would be taken to Babylon.

 

- 2345, sir.

 

Hephaistion nodded.

 

- There is no point in delaying this anymore –he said, lifting his head. His gray eyes surveying the camels—We’ll take a part of the treasury now, and the rest when we have the 655 remaining animals.

 

- Yes, sir.

 

The General spent all day arranging the transports and assigning a strong escort of the most trustful men to protect the treasury trying his best not to think in Alexander his sarcastic tone and arrogant smile.

 

XXX

 

- Aki! –Alexander called the boy. The young Prince was heading to his room after training alone the rest of the day, he was tired, his chiton covered in sweat and mud and with just one thought in his mind: take a bath, eat and sleep…or sleep just as he was, he truly was very tired. But he couldn’t leave the King waiting, and he approached his uncle immediately.

 

- Yes, dad? –Alexander was taken aback, he had waited for a cold answer, like the ones Hephaistion was giving him these days, but instead, his Prince spoke to him as always, as if nothing had happened.

 

- I want to talk to you.

 

- Of course –Achilles’ stomach growled, as if a chimera were trapped inside, and the King smiled.

 

- Come, we can talk while you eat –he took the boy behind the neck. 

 

Once they were comfortably seated and the boy had eaten a handful of meat and bread, Alexander spoke again.

 

- Aki, what do you think about what happened the other day at my staff meeting? –Achilles swallowed before answering.

 

- I think I was wrong –answered the boy with all honesty—It wasn’t my place to be questioning your orders. I’m sorry.

 

The King nodded.

 

- I don’t want this to happen again, do you understand?

 

- Yes, dad.

 

Achilles bit a slice of cheese.

 

- What does your father say about this? –he didn’t wanted to ask but couldn’t avoid it.

 

- He also thinks that what I did was wrong, but he is mad at you –said the Prince.

 

- Yes, I noticed –muttered the King under his breath, remembering Hephaistion cold tone and his happy expression when he saw the Roman.

 

- Dad, I think you should talk to him, you should apologize or something because he is really mad –Alexander laughed amused. So bad was he that a 7 years old boy was giving him advices? He ruffled Achilles’ hair.

 

But I’m not going to apologize –thought the stubborn King. His pride didn’t let him, even if deep inside he knew he had to do it.  

 

XXX