Chapter 138

 

CHAPTER 138

 

Before he knew it, Alexander had fallen asleep amidst the fluffy pillows of the Great King’s bed, under the golden plane tree that once had watched over Darius’s dreams. He had so many things buzzing in his head, so many concerns, and so many feelings oppressing his heart that soon he started to recall fragments of conversations in Macedonian and Greek, the voice of his interpreter, Hephaistion’s angry voice ‘Let me go!’…Faces: his Companions’ faces, Parmelio perpetual scowl, the Magi’s hatred, the Persians’ fear, Hephaistion’s anger… Smells: the sweet perfume of the concubines, the delicious food, the magnificent wine, the missing chamomile fragrance of Hephaistion’s hair every morning… And soon he started to dream, a very strange dream…

 

He was standing at the throne room of the palace but the magnificent carven doors were closed, no matter how hard he pushed he couldn’t opened them, it was as if he were trying to move a mountain and that enraged him. The images of the Great Kings carved on the walls, looking extremely tall and big, like imposing giants, laughed at him, mocking his poor attempts.

 

- You’ll never be Great King –said the images on the walls, making the gold and jewels adorning them to jingle at every move.

 

- OF COURSE I WILL! –shouted Alexander back, dressed in full armor with the sword hanging at his side and the helmet on his head, still pushing the doors with all his forces.

 

- Your father would have opened the doors by now –said Parmelio, walking through the hallway, pushing a wagon with a corpse wrapped in a white linen fabric; only the face of the corpse could be seen and the King saw it was Hektor—I gave you one of my sons Alexander, but what have you given me back?   

 

- I took you…I took you all farther than my father ever dreamed, I made you all rich beyond your expectations –said Alexander.

 

- Of course you have –said Olympias, sitting on the window’s frame with a snake sliding through her shoulders—But I always knew it, nothing is impossible for you because you are the son of a God.

 

- You are nothing more than a bigheaded barbarian –said Darius, standing at his side, sitting on his war chariot.

 

- And you a coward! –exclaimed Alexander, lifting his head proudly.

 

- Maybe, but you still can’t open that door.

 

- I CAN DO IT!

 

The King kicked the doors and they burst opened, crashing against the walls, the sound echoing through the hallway, a sound so overwhelming that for a moment Alexander thought he was inside a mortuary chamber, a tomb like the ones built by the Egyptians. The young King smiled with self-sufficiency and stepped into the room, but it wasn’t the throne room the one waiting for him, it was Hephaistion’s bedroom, the same he had at the palace of Babylon.

 

His beloved was sitting on his bed, the loose and long fabrics of his white chiton sliding through his body, leaving his shoulders and part of his torso naked, swirling next to his thighs, covering the bed and running down through the sides of the bed; one leg bent up and the other stretched to the front. Nikandros was in front of him, very close, running his fingers up and down his brother’s thigh, and dressed in a black chiton.

 

- Are you sure he doesn’t know? –whispered Nikandros, so close to the General’s lips that each word hit his skin.

 

- I’m sure –purred Hephaistion, cocking his head, his eyes heavily lidded feeling his brother’s warmth so close to him—I never told Alex that you were my first.

 

His older brother took a lock of his loose and long long hair between his fingers, enjoying the silkiness before kissing it, as someone would do with the hand of a dear lady, with the same devotion and love.

 

- You are so beautiful –Hephaistion kissed his cheek softly, leaving a trail of wet kisses on his way to his lips, caressing his skin with the same ease of someone who had done this many times before. Nikandros closed his eyes and smiled feeling his brother’s lips brushing his own, not daring to kiss him, not yet— You are teasing me.  

 

- I’m sorry… I shall behave properly then —whispered the General before fully kissing him, opening his mouth to let his older brother to devour him, to claim him as his own that night.

 

Nikandros slid his open hand through his chest, hearing Hephaistion’s soft moaning every time he brushed his nipple, his body reacting at his touch as if had happened that night many years ago, the first time, when the General was still a boy. 

 

- Tell me something…The King touches you as I do? –the question made Hephaistion laugh without noise, his cheek slightly pink.

 

- I didn’t know you were jealous, Nick.

 

- I’m not, I’m just curious –said his brother, sliding his hand up and down his torso, over his undulating abdomen, tickling him slightly.

 

- No…Alexander doesn’t touch me like you do…—whispered Hephaistion between kisses—You like to play with me –a half arrogant smile curved his lips against his brother’s.

 

Nikandros pulled him to make his brother sat astride over his lap, never leaving his lips, moaning softly when he felt the General rocking his hips smoothly against his aching manhood. The King was sure that, what Hephaistion felt for his brother was very different from what he felt for him, he could feel it; with Nikandros everything was  as intimate and forbidden as the most secret religious rituals, more intense because both were brothers and sometimes, while watching his own reflection in his brother’s green eyes, Hephaistion could see himself... It was an intoxicated feeling that he couldn’t experience with someone else, something from which he couldn’t get enough, like a drug, he knew it was wrong but he couldn’t help but enjoy what it made him feel.

 

Suddenly, Hephaistion tensed, gasped and moaned louder when he felt his brother inside him, it had been so quickly so sudden, but at the same time so familiar. 

 

Alexander saw everything from the door, as a ghost, a shadow, a silent witness that they couldn’t see. His body burned while his eyes drank in that sensual vision in front of him, it was his dream come true, watching those two beautiful creatures together, so alike, their slender and strong bodies pressed together, with the same expression when they were aroused, both too vocal and noisy. But then…at some point Nikandros turned to see the King directly but it wasn’t Nikandros, it was Scipio, thrusting inside his beloved, making him moaned and pant. 

 

Alexander opened his eyes and found himself lying on his bed. It was still dark and the room was very still, he could hear his heart pounding so hard that it appeared to echo against the walls.

 

What a dream? –he thought, touching his forehead covered with sweat.

 

XXX

 

- Nick wake up! –the lochagos grumbled, turned and pulled the blankets over his head, not bothering to deal with the annoying person who had come to disturb his sleep. Hephaistion puffed his cheeks out and pulled the blankets, but his brother didn’t even opened his eyes—Nick, honestly, it’s urgent –but Nikandros was too comfortable and too tired to wake up, the General’s voice sounded so distant that it appeared to be part of his dream.

 

I don’t have time for this –thought Hephaistion. He strode to the table, took a jar with water and threw it over his brother.

 

- What the…? –Nikandros sat immediately, cursing and blinking several times until he saw the General standing at the side of his bed, the jar in on hand—What the hell is wrong with you?

 

- I need to talk to you –said a very serious Hephaistion, for the look on his face one would think that someone had died.

 

- At this ungodly hour? Can you wait until morning? –the lochagos grumbled while laying again on his wet bed.

 

- It’s noon.

 

- Really? –Nikandros opened one green eye.

 

-I need to talk to you –the General sat down at his side, leaving the jar on the floor. In any other circumstance Nikandros would have kicked Hephaistion out of his room for waking him up like this, but there was something in his voice that made him reconsider.

 

His older brother dried his face with the blankets and sat, his back against the pillows, crossing his arms behind his head.

 

- Fine, talk! –Hephaistion took a deep breath, there was no easy way to say what he had came to say so...

 

- I slept with my Roman friend –it was a little blunt but his brother reacted better to simple phrases.

 

Nikandros chuckled.

 

- So? You want my blessing? –he rubbed his eyes.

 

- This is serious –said Hephaistion as if he were talking about murdering the King.

 

- Why should it be? –his brother yawned—He asked for your hand in marriage?…Ouch! –he exclaimed when the General punched his arm.

 

- Nick I have never slept with another man except Alexander –now Nikandros laughed out loud.

 

- Seriously? –Hephaistion saw him in the same way Medusa should have looked at his enemies—Phai, but you are not his damn wife –the lochagos leaned to the front, resting his arms between his legs—You have all the right to fuck whoever you want.

 

- Thanks Nick, that’s reassuring –said the General in a cold tone.  

 

- All right? Let’s start from the beginning –said Nikandros, scratching his head—You fucked your friend, why?

 

- Because I like him, he is very good looking –answered Hephaistion immediately, as if that were obvious—You met him yesterday.

 

- Phai, guys aren’t really my thing and your friend its fine, I guess, but he would have had to be gorgeous to catch my attention –his brother yawned again—But if he has a sister I would be more than happy to meet her. 

 

The General narrowed his eyes.

 

- How is that everything always has to be about you?

 

- Sorry, you were saying –said Nikandros with infinite laziness—You like him, but you are not the kind of person who sleeps with someone just because “you like him”. Are you sure this has nothing to do with the fact that you are angry with Alexander?

 

Hephaistion puffed his cheeks out.

 

- Maybe…

 

- Revenge sex, then. Was it good?

 

- Not precisely –the General brushed his hair behind his ear, and told his brother what had happened. This time the lochagos didn’t laugh.

 

- Yes well, that happens. Especially if you have only slept with the same person for…How long have you been with Alexander?

 

- 13 years.

 

- You have problems, Phai –said Nikandros with all certainty—I’m surprise that you haven’t done this before, don’t you ever get bore with Alexander?

 

- Nick, I didn’t come here to discuss that with you.

 

- Sorry.

 

- What do I do now? –Hephaistion looked absolutely lost and that took the lochagos by surprise, it was very strange to see his brother like this—Publius wants to sleep with me again, but...I don’t know…

 

- What do you want to do? –asked Nikandros—Are you feeling guilty?

 

- A little…But then I remember the way in which Alexander had been talking to me lately and I stop feeling guilty –his brother looked at him in silence for a moment.

 

- Phai, if you want to sleep again with Scipio do it because you want to, but if you are only doing this because you are angry I advice you to not do it –said Nikandros with a seriousness that took his brother aback—You would feel terrible later –he held his gaze—I seriously don’t know why but you love Alexander so much that you are going to feel like the worst creature in the world for sleeping with your friend again. Now, have you thought about your friend? He knows that you are using him because you are angry? –the General hadn’t thought that—Phai, I don’t know your friend well enough to tell you what is he thinking, but he can be very glad for the opportunity of sleeping with you or really pissed for being used in a quarrel between lovers. You have to think carefully what you want to do, what you really want.  

 

Hephaistion nodded. His brother had a point, he had to admit that Nikandros was very wise…in his way. The lochagos ruffled his hair to end with the heavy atmosphere and stood up.

 

- Now, you have 2 options –he said stretching his arms to the front— Share with me my breakfast or get the hell out of here. 

 

Hephaistion smiled and stayed.

 

XXX

 

Chrysaor was tired and bored, he had been following his taxiarch around the city all morning and had decided that Meleager could be his superior but that didn’t prevent him for being a very dull person who liked to show off; he was wearing a cloak embroidered with gold thread and had heavy rings adorning all his fingers, undoubtedly war spoils that had the pezetairos salivating like a dog outside a butcher shop. Someone with a little more common sense would have avoided showing this stolen wealth in front of the angry Persians, but instead of that the taxiarch had decided to bring a strong escort of armed men. 

 

Meleager was in charge of posting sentries where once was the city’s garrison but he didn’t dare to venture through the streets of Persepolis alone, he wasn’t that mad. Lately, every Macedonian officer who appreciated his life had an escort with him all the time, you could breath danger at every corner and the naked expressions of hatred in the faces of the Persians had deterred more than one of the idea of going out alone. But Chrysaor had the idea that Megealer not only had an escort with him for protection but also to make him feel important, or maybe that was just his idea.

 

- Sir, are you sure the King wants to stay here until Daisios? (1) –asked the taxiarch’s second in command.

 

- That’s what I heard.

 

- I don’t like it, sir –the man shook his head—The locals aren’t happy after the lads sacked the place, it could be dangerous.

 

- The King doesn’t pay you to worry, Itheus –said Meleager sharply, turning left with his group. He was in a terrible mood since the distribution of the spoils, he was sure that he had received less money than his fellow taxiarchs, and even if Eumenes had assured him more than once that he received what was fair he still had his doubts.

 

He kicked a rock and then, he lifted his head and saw a peculiar figure not far from them. 

 

- Isn’t that the Prince? –asked Itheus, squinting, unable to believe that the boy was walking alone at the very center of the city as if he were in the garden of his house, wearing a simple tunic and carrying a cloth bag, he didn’t even have a slave or servant with him, and if it wasn’t for the fact that everybody at the Macedonian army knew him, no one would have thought he was a Prince.

 

- Shit! –exclaimed the taxiarch, as impressed and scandalized as his second-in-command, striding to catch the boy– Achilles!

 

The Prince stopped and turned.

 

- Joy to you, Meleager –said Achilles with a smile.

 

- Joy to you too –the taxiarch took a deep breath, he didn’t know how to deal with kids so he went straight to the point—What are you doing here alone?

 

- I want to see the Gate of all Nations –answered the Prince, unable to see why was the taxiarch so serious. 

 

- Alone?! –Meleager exclaimed as if this were the most stupid thing he had ever heard— Does the King know that you are here by your own?

 

- My father is busy, I didn’t think it wise to interrupt him with my things –said Achilles very formally, making Chrysaor smiled.

 

The pezetairos hadn’t seen the boy so closed, just the day of his birthday during the chariot race. For what he had heard he was very much like the King, with the same gestures and way of talking, but in his opinion he was more like Hephaistion, the same hair, his face…Achilles was a gorgeous boy but, unlike the General when he was that age, he was paled, with an aura of fragility thanks to his multiple allergies and that made him had a very accentuated epicene beauty. He was the kind of boy for whom men would fight to have as eromenos.

 

Or maybe I should stop drinking that shit Elpenor is buying –thought Chrysaor looking at the boy— I’m starting to see Heph everywhere. 

 

- Chrysaor! –Meleager called him, taking him out of his thoughts.

 

- Sir! –the pezetairos stood on attention.

 

- Go with the Prince, see that he comes to no harm –ordered the taxiarch.

 

I won’t be responsible if something happen to Achilles for being wandering alone –thought Meleager. 

 

- Yes, sir.

 

- Thank you, taxiarch –said Achilles. He didn’t mind to have the pezetairos as his bodyguard and he certainly understood what was Meleager thinking, so he didn’t argued.

 

XXX

 

- How long have you been in the army? –asked Achilles, walking with the pezetairos through the streets, seeing how the people avoid his gaze and moved aside to let him pass, not out of respect, but of fear watching his bodyguard in full armor, his sword sheathed and his spear ready in his hand.

 

- A couple of years I think, your highness –answered Chrysaor awkwardly, he didn’t know how to speak to the King’s son. He felt like an idiot, he wasn’t used to have a conversation with his superiors, he was a very simple man, the son of a farmer, he felt very comfortable with his equals but didn’t know how to react in front of the royalty, even if the Prince was just a boy the fact that he was the only son of the almighty King, conqueror of Asia, was enough to make him nervous.

 

He had hoped just to followed the boy in silence and take care of him, the last thing he expected was to talk to him.  

 

- You can call me Achilles –said the Prince, smiling and the pezetairos nodded—What’s your name?

 

- Chrysaor son of Attalos.

 

- Where are you from?  

 

- From Upper Macedonia.

 

- How is your home? –asked the boy with interest.

 

- It’s a small farm but a damn beautiful place…sorry –Chrysaor cleared his throat—On winter mornings sunrises are really something. 

 

Achilles asked him about everything he could think about, he had never talked to a pezetairos before and wanted to know every detail of Chrysaor’s family. Soon the pezetairos forgot with whom he was talking and started to feel more at ease.

 

- You are funny man –said the Prince when they finally arrived to the Gate of all Nations.

 

- And you ask lots of bloody questions –Chrysaor took off his helmet, and scratched his head. 

 

- I like to learn –answered Achilles, his eyes on the pair of Lamassus, two bulls with the heads of bearded men standing at each side of the entrance—Did you know that this gate was built by the Great King Xerxes? It’s called the Gate of all Nations referring to all the subjects of the Great King, here –the boy walked to a wall—In this inscription you can read: “King Xerxes says: by the favor of Ahuramazda this Gate of All Nations I built. Much else that is beautiful was built in this Persepolis, which I built and my father built”.

 

- You can read Persian? –asked the pezetairos curious not impressed, leaning his weigh against the wall.

 

- Yes –Achilles answered absently, walking through the hall that connected the 2 tall and impressive entrances. The Gate of All Nations was a huge monument with columns of 16 meters high adorning the central hall…But Chrysaor, unlike the young Prince, wasn’t in the least interested in this wonderful construction, he couldn’t find anything interesting a building. 

 

- How old are you? –asked the pezetairos, leaving the spear against the wall. 

 

- Seven.

 

- Seven?! –now Chrysaor was impressed—I thought you were 10.

 

- Well, my father says I’m tall.

 

The pezetairos shook his head.

 

- No, it’s not that, you talked like an old fellow –he said smiling—Don’t you ever do normal stuff? Kid’s stuff?

 

- Like play? –asked Achilles, his eyes on the walls—I play during my free time, but I have many things to do...Besides I only have one friend. 

 

- You are kidding, why?

 

- Why what? –the boy turned to look at him.

 

- Why do you have only one friend?

 

- I don’t know –the Prince shrugged—I don’t know many kids –he remembered what had happened with Abulites’ son and the pezetairos saw a strange sadness in his uneven eyes. 

 

- You know? When I was your age I used to sneak in the neighbors’ farm and steal their chickens –he said laughing—Those were good times.

 

- Do you miss your home?

 

- Sometimes, but…No, not really I found this life more interesting, besides I eat better here –Chrysaor explained. 

 

- Chrysaor…

 

- You can call me Chrys –he interrupted the Prince, all his previous nervousness now forgotten.

 

- Chrys then –Achilles nodded— What do you think of my father?

 

- You don’t play nice –said the pezetairos smiling—I can’t possible say something bad, can I?

 

- You can be honest with me, I promise not to say a word to my father –said the Prince—You have my word.

 

Chrysaor sighed.

 

- All right then…I think he is nuts –that made Achilles laughed—Really, what he did at the Persian Gates was crazy, but I started to love him when he let us sack the city. You should see the kind of things I found, my father is going to piss himself when he sees what I’m sending back home.

 

This was something that Achilles hadn’t thought. For him the sack of Persepolis had been atrocious, a dreadful thing, but now that he heard Chrysaor talking about his humble home and what meant to him the plunder he had obtained, he was starting to understand why Alexander let his men to sack some cities, after all, what meant to men like Chrysaor ancient sacred places when their families had many needs?

 

- Are you hungry? –asked the Prince, taking a seat on the floor, stretching his legs to the front. He opened his cloth bag and took a big piece of freshly baked bread, cheese and dates.

 

- Why do you ask? –Chrysaor salivated when he smelled the delicious aroma of the bread.

 

- I thought you may want to share my lunch –said the boy with simplicity—The cook is really kind and he gave me more food than I can eat. 

 

- That bread smells really nice –said Chrysaor, taking a seat at the Prince’s side. Maybe another pezetairos would have refused the invitation a couple of times before accepting, just to be polite, but not Chrysaor, he was too bold for that—Mm…it’s a good bread –he said with his mouth full.   

 

Achilles didn’t answer. He chewed in silence, with his mouth shut, unlike the pezetairos, and watching the ceiling of the hallway. 

 

- You know, I was thinking something –said Chrysaor, after swallowing and taking a couple of dates—I can be your friend so you can have 2 friends now –he Prince turned to look at him, very surprised with this proposal, but the pezetairos misunderstood his expression—Well, of course I’m not a very fancy friend…

 

- No! –exclaimed Achilles—I mean…it would be great –Chrysaor smiled, it was very simple for him to regain his good mood.

 

XXX

 

That day, the King ordered Ennychus to follow the General again. The page didn’t have an idea of why, was it that the Alexander suspected that Hephaistion was plotting against him or something? The boy of 13 years old thought many things, one more spectacular and improbable than the last, but he never thought in the most simple: that the King was jealous. But who could blame him? A man like the almighty King jealous? Impossible! 

 

He followed the General to his brother’s house and back to the palace where he continued to supervise the relocation of the treasury. At night he dined again with his friend, and, since the page had noticed that the King had an especial interest in the Roman, he found a way to hide again under a window.

 

At first everything was normal, and a little boring in the page’s opinion, but then he heard that both fell silent and the unmistakable sounds of kissing floated to him. Ennychus blushed, imagining the gorgeous General with his friend, and his curiosity won, making him stand up and peek through the window.

 

Sure enough, they were kissing, slowly, enjoying the other’s lips, sitting one in front of the other in the same couch. 

 

- Are you sure you want to do this again? –asked Scipio, whispering against his lips, sliding his hands through his thighs all the way up.

 

- Why do you ask? –Hephaistion purred the words, burying his fingers in his friend’s hair.

 

- Because I know you enough to be sure that tomorrow you are going to be consumed by guilt –said the Roman, and the General stopped kissing him. He had seen right through him—I’m not a fool, I know you slept with me because you are angry with your King, but… —he kissed his cheek softly—I would really love to have you because you like me.

 

- I like you –Hephaistion kissed him again—But I don’t love you.

 

- I know…—and his kisses appeared to say: ‘and I don’t care’. He made the Macedonian lied back and the General moaned softly when he felt his weight over him. Why was doing this again? He wasn’t very sure, but he thought because he wanted someone to pamper him that night, he didn’t want to be alone.

 

At the window Ennychus didn’t know what to do. His teenager hormones wanted to stay and watch, his eyes doubled their size when he saw the Roman lifting the General’s cloths, leaving his strong legs expose… But it was late and he had to report back with the King. At the end he decided that his duty was more important, and an angry Alexander was something that scared the living hell out of him, so he headed back to the King’s quarters.

 

XXX

 

- That was all? –asked Alexander, when Ennychus finished his report—The General didn’t saw the Roman until night?

 

- Yes, sire –the paged nodded—They dined together, again.

 

The King paced around. 

 

- When you left, was Scipio still with the General? –when Ennychus blushed Alexander felt his blood burning, imagining what had happened.

 

- Well…They…er…they were…

 

- What? –asked the King impatiently.

 

- They were kissing, sire –said the page but closed his mouth when he saw the murderous expression on Alexander’s face.

 

They were WHAT?! –he thought just before leaving and striding directly to his General’s room. 

 

XXX

 

(1) Macedonian month of June.