CHAPTER 141

 

Chrysaor was lost. He had scarcely one week at the palace and even if for most people this was more than enough to get use to the complicate hallways and numerous rooms, his sense of direction sucked, if in fact he did have one, and found himself incapable of remembering how to go back to the young Prince’s quarters. The pezetairos had was always been sure that he could get lost in a small house having a map and a dwarf at his side shouting directions. Now he had hard evidence that this was true.

 

The Palace at Persepolis was more like a complex of several small palaces connected through splendid gardens, an old, magnificent, luxurious, and most importantly, big very big place. The servants only spoke Persian, except for one or two highly educated who knew a little of Greek, but Chrysaor didn’t speak Greek, not even by mistake. In one word he was screw. 

 

The pezetairos stopped in the middle of a long hallway of impressive tall walls and felt the impulse of start shouting, even if he was imprisoned for disrupting the peace of the palace it would be better than his present situation. He was starting to think that he would never get out of this place, that he would die there and years later someone would find his bones under a window…All right now he was being dramatic, but he didn’t know what to do, and to make things worst he was starving, as the growl of his stomach reminded him.   

 

He scratched his head and was about to go back on his tracks, hoping to find someone, a Macedonian guard hopefully who could help him, when he saw a familiar figure through the window. Hephaistion was in the garden, and first Chrysaor thought he was alone, he was about to start jumping and thanking the Gods for this opportunity, when he saw that the beautiful General was accompanied by a man he had never seen before; a handsome man, tall with short chestnut hair. At the end his curiosity was stronger than he and his hunger, and Chrysaor walked to the door, heading to the garden to have a better look. 

 

XXX

 

- I’m leaving tomorrow –said Scipio, stopping under a cherry tree. One thing the Roman liked about this place were the gardens, he spent a lot of time here, alone or with Hephaistion, something that his fellow citizens didn’t approve because they thought that what Scipio liked was the luxury not the peaceful atmosphere.

 

A place where nobody knows you has its charm, and in this place the Roman felt a freedom he had never experienced before, far away from prying eyes and curious ears. He didn’t have to hide here, fearing what his father may think, fearing to be discover doing something improper, or worst, not Roman. Many had said that the Persian gardens were like the Elysian Fields, for Scipio this was true in more than one sense.   

 

- Alex told me that he personally arranged that you and the rest of the Roman delegation have horses and a wagon at your disposal –said Hephaistion a little sad, he didn’t want his friend to go. It was curious but after Alexander Scipio was the person with whom he felt more comfortable, it was relaxing to talk to him and he always gave him a good advice, he wasn’t afraid to tell the General what he thought even if he wasn’t going to like it.

 

His relationship with the Roman was different from the one he had with Perdikkas or Leonnatos…Why? He couldn’t put it in words, but Hephaistion thought it was because Scipio was older and he wasn’t Macedonian, he could give him a fresh point of view about his problems and he wasn’t competing with him for a post in the kingdom. Yes, Perdikkas and Leonnatos were his friends and the General would never doubt about their good will and honesty, but he wasn’t naïve.

 

Even his friends were envious sometimes, like Nikandros, because he had better horses, better accommodations, because Alexander favored him above the others, but the big difference between his friends and his enemies, like Krateros, Philotas and Eumenes, was that Perdikkas and Leonnatos could be envious for a moment but, for them, their friendship was more important. 

 

- Maybe we’ll see each other again –said the Roman, he took a cherry and looked at it with curiosity. There weren’t cherries in Rome, and it would have to pass almost 300 years before Lucius Licinius Lucullus brought to the growing Empire the first cherry tree after his campaigns in the east.

 

- Why do you say that?

 

- The Gods are fickle, Hephaistion –said Scipio, his eyes still on the cherry—The last time I saw you I was sure I would never see you again, least of all that I would travel all the way to Persepolis.

 

The General smiled.

 

- If we are honest, I never thought we’d arrive at Persepolis so fast –Hephaistion admitted.

 

- You didn’t think your King was capable of achieving this? –Scipio ate the cherry and sat down on a rock bench. A couple of servants, far away from them, were sweeping and cleaning after the gardener had left, but they were out of earshot. 

 

- No, its not that –Hephaistion sat down at his side— It’s…—he took a moment to arrange his thoughts—I never thought it would be so fast, everything had happened too quickly, it looks as if it was yesterday when we left Pella, just 4 years Publius and look where we are…Where will we be in another 4 years? 

 

- You don’t think that maybe in 4 years you would be back home? –Scipio and Hephaistion looked at each other and then said at the same time: ‘NO’ and laughed. 

 

- But you are right –said the General, stretching his legs to the front—I never thought I’d see you again and here you are, maybe we’ll meet again.

 

Chrysaor, hidden behind another cherry tree, couldn’t understand one word of that conversation in Greek, but words weren’t necessary when he saw how Scipio closed the distance between them and kissed Hephaistion, taking his time to enjoy his sweet lips, making his friend to open his mouth to receive him. The General threw his head back and let Scipio take the control for that time, tasting the cherry flavor in his mouth; he knew as well as his friend that once Scipio were back home he would never be able to do this again, and somehow he wanted to give him a farewell gift. 

 

- I don’ know if I love you –whispered the Roman, before kissing him again, losing himself in the softness of his skin—But I feel something for you –he nipped his lower lip, feeling the heat of Hephaistion’s blushed face—Something that I can’t explain.

 

The General cupped his face and gently pushed him away, caressing his friend’s cheeks with his thumbs. He didn’t want to go father and was sure that, if he didn’t stop him now, wouldn’t be able to do it later.

 

- I’ll miss you –Hephaistion held his gaze—Especially all your stories about Rome –Scipio laughed without noise. He took the General’s hands and stare at them, the hands of someone used to the sword, used to kill and fight, someone whose life had been forged on the battlefield, not like him. 

 

That was something hard for Scipio, he was older than Hephaistion, five years older, and still the Macedonian had lived many more things than he. 

 

- Now we are getting too sentimental –the Roman smiled and released his hands—I’ll write to you after my wedding.

 

- And I’ll keep you informed of what happen here –said Hephaistion.

 

- Hephaistion! –Alexander appeared from no-where, striding with an extremely serious expression on his face that had accompanied him since he heard that his beloved had gone out with the Roman. He frowned when she saw they were alone, as if he knew what they had been doing, and looked at them accusingly.  

 

- Do you need something? –asked his beloved. He knew the blond was upset and he could easily imagine why but he decided to ignore it. 

 

- What is he doing here? –asked the King, his eyes on Scipio and his hands on his hips.

 

- I’m leaving tomorrow and…

 

- I didn’t ask you –Alexander interrupted him and the Roman looked at him in silence, as if trying to decide if the King was crazy or if his hate for him was such that it erased all trace of rational thinking.

 

- For someone so sure of himself you are very insecure when it comes about Hephaistion –Scipio pointed out.

 

- That’s none of your business –the King crossed his arms.

 

- When you almost killed me exactly because of this, it became my business –said the Roman.

 

- ‘Almost killed’ doesn’t count.

 

Hephaistion laughed amused.

 

- Alex you are a child –he said making the King frowned. 

 

- I’m not…And why were you two alone here? –Alexander looked at them like a father who had caught her daughter alone with a half naked man in her bedroom.

 

- I’m sorry, next time I’ll be sure to bring a chaperon so your beloved’s honor won’t be compromise –said Scipio and Hephaistion laughed again.

 

- One day Scipio…

 

But Alexander never finished that, the 3 of them turned when they heard the crack of a breaking branch, and found Chrysaor there, standing at the side of one tree looking as guilty as a child caught stealing food from the kitchen.

 

- You?! –the King could barely believe his eyes. The Gods hated him, first Scipio and now Chrysaor, what was going to happen next? Memnon coming back from the grave?—What are you doing here?

 

The pezetairos opened his mouth to answer but he hit his head against a tree branch and cursed. The Roman raised an eyebrow.

 

- I work here –answered Chrysaor quite naturally, rubbing his head with one eye closed.

 

- You work here? I thought you were in Meleager’s taxei –said Alexander, he wasn’t happy having 2 of his beloved admirers there, even less knowing that one was posted in the palace so close to his General.

 

- I was reassigned…Joy to you Heph! –said the pezetairos completely ignoring the other 2, too happy to be able to see Hephaistion again, and so close. 

 

- Reassigned? Why? When? Who ordered it? –Alexander wanted to know.

 

- By the King’s orders –said Chrysaor with self-sufficiency, his arms crossed over his chest. The General laughed when he was the King’s expression, and even if Scipio didn’t understand one word he was very amused watching the blond. 

 

- By the…? That’s impossible –said Alexander, sure of his words, there was no way in hell that he would have authorized to have Chrysaor assigned to guard duties at the palace, and he never forgot a name.

 

- Hey, why would I lie? And speaking of which, what are you doing here? –asked the pezetairos, the question was for the King but his eyes were on Scipio. The Roman was handsome, he could understand why Hephaistion had kissed him, it had been quite a sight to see them together, and he could feel again that soft tickling thought his body with the sole memory of that.

 

- Dad! You have to see what Bastet can do –said a very excited Achilles, running to his uncle and father with his not too excited Cheetah at his side.

 

Dad? –the question echoed in Chrysaor’s mind, trying to figure out to whom was the boy talking. Or was the King standing behind him by some cosmic joke and he hadn’t seen him?

 

Then, an idea struck the King and everything was clear, as if a ray of light were illuminating him, coming down from the sky through the clouds.

 

- Achilles, this is the pezetaios you wanted as your guard? –asked Alexander.

 

The Prince stopped and looked at him a little puzzled.

 

- Yes, why? Is there a problem? You said I could have a personal guard –said the Prince, thinking really hard what was wrong and why was the King so serious.

 

Hephaistion laughed again, this whole situation was like a comedy, they were only lacking a stage and an audience to applaud in the right moment.

 

- So, Chrysaor, you were promoted to be the personal guard of my son –said the General cocking his head and the pezetairos looked at him with his mouth open, absolutely confused.

 

- You are the King?! –he exclaimed.

 

- No dumb-ass, I’m the King –said Alexander.

 

It was as if Hephaistion could read all the thoughts that crossed Chrysaor’s mind in that moment. The pezetairos hit his head so hard with his hand that the Prince winced, now that he took a moment to think about this he saw how stupid he was. Of course Alexander was the King: blond, short, with eyes of different color and with a lover, as the rumors said, so beautiful that could make the moon blush.

 

There were many things that Chrysaor had heard in the camp about the King and his sticking handsome lover, some good some bad, and he had always thought that Hephaistion would be just another handsome face lucky enough to have caught the attention of an easy-to-manipulate King who had fallen for him like a fool and for that sole reason had named him General of the Agema of the Hypaspists. But now, he didn’t know what to think, Alexander didn’t look like the kind of man you could manipulate and Hephaistion was as intelligent as beautiful…

 

- You didn’t know my father, the King? –asked Achilles, coming to the pezetairos rescue.

 

- No…I mean –he turned to look at the blond— I didn’t know you were the King…sire –it was official, Chrysaor was nervous.

 

- That much was obvious –said Alexander grumpily, not because of the pezetairos’ rude manners towards him but because he had dared to express the fact that he liked his beloved—Phai, I have something to do and I want you to come with me.

 

Hephaistion nodded.

 

- I’ll see you at dinner –he said to Scipio and his Roman friend just nodded.

 

XXX

 

- Let me get this straight –said Chysaor, sitting at the garden with Achilles after the rest had gone—Your father is Heph but the King adopted you as his son and named you his heir because you are his nephew and your mother is the King’s full sister, who is the widow of King Alexandros of Epirus.

 

- Yes –Achilles moved his head up and down.

 

- I’m going to need a drink –sighed the pezetairos.

 

- You truly didn’t know the King? –the Prince was amused for his guard’s consternation.

 

- No, I saw him once but I didn’t know…—he hid his face in his hands—He is going to execute me.

 

Achilles laughed.

 

- No, he is not –he said—My father would never execute someone for something like this. If you want my opinion I think he is angry because you liked daddy, he is very jealous.

 

- Daddy? –Chrysaor turned to look at the boy—You call them both ‘father’?

 

- No, daddy is daddy and the King is always dad or father, except when daddy is angry then he is also ‘father’ –that only left the pezetairos even more confused.

 

Up went Chrysaor’s eyebrows.

 

- You have a very unusual family.

 

- That depends of how do you see this –said Achilles in a professor-like tone of voice—What’s ‘usual’ to start with?

 

- Oh! No, no, no, don’t give that philosophical crap –said Chrysaor and the boy laughed again—Let’s just say that it’s not every day that you see a boy who has 2 ‘fathers’.

 

- That’s because I’m a special boy.

 

- Who told you that?

 

- Nanny.

 

- Your grandmother who is not Olympias, so she must be…Heph’s mother –Achilles nodded—Complicated family indeed…And who was the other man with them?

 

- Oh! That was Scipio, he is daddy’s friend –the boy explained.

 

- ‘Friend’…right –mumbled the pezetairos remembering that kiss.

 

XXX

 

That afternoon Berenike was at her house, sitting with a half sleep baby Demetrios in her arms, singing a song to him. Unlike Hephaistion, who made the dogs bark and howl every time he tried to sing, his sister had a beautiful voice, another of her talents that had fascinated Leonnatos who used to think of her as a siren who had completely bewitched him. Kleitos, who had come back home earlier than he had expected, stood at the threshold unannounced, leaning against the frame of the door, just wanting to listen to her.

 

He didn’t have legitimate children and, until he had seen Berenike with her own he didn’t want them, but now…

 

At some point his wife turned and stopped singing when she saw him.

 

- I didn’t know you have come back –said Berenike a little surprised and Netikerty came running to hold Demetrios while her mistress stood up.

 

- I finished earlier…And your mother? –asked the hipparch looking for Antigone. The poor man in all his naivety was sure that his mother-in-law loved him, and he adored having her around because of her heavenly cooking.

 

- She stayed with Aki, she promised that she would make cookies for him –Berenike explained and her husband shook his head.

 

- I told Alexander it was a terrible idea to bring the grandmother to pamper that boy –said Kleitos hardening his voice—Achilles will be King one day, he needs to be strong, and the kid has enough problems already.  

 

- What do you mean? –she frowned—You say that because he falls sick often?

 

The hipparch shook his head.

 

- Not only that.

 

- What then?

 

- He inherited your brother’s beauty –said Kleitos, taking her aback.

 

- And that’s bad because…? –she truly couldn’t think why should this be a problem. For a moment she was sure that, that horrible thing that her husband used to drink, had finally managed to drive him crazy.

 

- Achilles looks older than he is –the hipparch continued— And now I’m starting to see that he is too beautiful for his own good, but not like your brother, unlike him the kid looks too delicate, and the men won’t respect a ‘beautiful’ King who looks like a girl, they want a brave and strong King.

 

- You are saying that in order to be a good King you have to be ugly? –asked Berenike, raising an eyebrow, just like her mother used to do—Alexander is handsome.

 

- Handsome not beautiful, which is not the same thing –said Kleitos confusing her—Nobody want the kind of King that leaves you asking if he is negotiating with the enemy of giving his ass on a plate. 

 

Berenike frowned because of the vulgar remark, but then, she smiled. 

 

- Oww! Just admit that you love Aki and care about what happen to him –she successfully silence her husband. When Berenike first met Kleitos she was sure that he had a sadistic pleasure torturing Achilles, now, after months living with him she was sure that he loved the young Prince as his own son, reason why he kept complaining about everything, he wanted Achilles to be a great King—He doesn’t have a mother, and mom is perfect for that roll until Phai gets married –that made the hipparch laughed.

 

- Eni, your brother would never get married unless Alexander decides to scandalize everybody marrying him –Berenike punched his arm.

 

- You are not funny –this made Kleitos smile. It had been so long since the last time he had seen his wife in such a good mood and all thanks to Antigone. Since she had convinced Leonnatos of letting his children see their mother again, Berenike had became again the cheerful girl he loved.

 

Berenike had been so sad since their wedding that the hipparch was starting to run out of ideas of what to do to make her smile. He wasn’t a romantic person and the only thing he could think about was to buy her things; after all Alexander had been in a splendid generous mood giving all his friends and officers outstanding gifts, a behavior that had enraged Olympias who had written to him to let him know that this was not a very good idea, even some of the King’s Persian advisors had expressed their concerned about this generosity, but Alexander won’t listen.

 

Kleitos kissed Berenike and easily carried her in arms. If his mother-in-law wasn’t around then they would have to make the most of that afternoon. 

 

XXX

 

- Scipio! –Alexander called him that night. He knew the Roman had plans to dine with Hephaistion and he also knew what had happened the last time they dined alone; he couldn’t forbid his beloved to see his friend and couldn’t possible do as much as to mention that he wasn’t happy with the idea of the 2 of them alone in the same room without implying that he didn’t trust his General, because he trusted him just that he didn’t trust the Roman. So he thought that the best solution was to deal with the problem directly, and by problem one must understand: Scipio.

 

As always the Roman was impeccably dressed in his toga, and by the light of the lamps in the hallway his eyes looked even bluer, a twinkle dancing in them mysteriously, like liquid fire; the King could understand perfectly well why his beloved liked him, and that only served to bother him even more. Scipio looked slightly surprised when he saw the King on the hallway but said nothing and waited for Alexander to continue.

 

- I want to talk to you.

 

The Roman was very tempted to ask ‘now?’ but it was clear by the King’s tone of voice that he meant it, so he followed him to an empty room.