CHAPTER 167

 

As soon as spring arrived Alexander took the decision to divide his army. He left Krateros behind with 4 taxei of the phalanx to guard Bactria, and then, he split the rest of his forces in 5 columns with Hephaistion, Ptolemy, Perdikkas, Koinos and himself at the head of each one. The King’s plan was simple: he wanted to cover as much territory as possible, and each column had the mission to crush any resistance left and to create a safe link of military outposts through the satrapy.

 

—It will be for a short time –said the King to his beloved. Hephaistion was dressed in full armor, his 2 swords hanging at his back and a new black cloak embroidery in white gold thread covering him from the freshness of the morning. At each step the clink of the armor floated to his ears, but, after so many years, this had become a sound as familiar as the whispers of the wind during the long marches or the feeling of his war stallion between his legs.

 

He was surrounded by familiarity: the smell of leather and steel, the sound of voices shouting orders, the sight of men getting ready for that day’s march, to feel the rocky ground beneath his boots. Everything was so familiar that sometimes found himself thinking that his life back at Pella had been a dream and he had always lived here, in a military camp.

 

Both, the King and his hipparch, walked through the ranks of tents to the place where the men waited for their commander. Hephaistion’s gray dark eyes settled on the baggage train full with supplies and the slaves and servants at the back of the column taking care of the pack animals. He had an independent command now, this small army would be his for the next months, and, away from the King, he would become everything to his men, the ultimate authority.

 

The hipparch was living the dream of all officers: an independent command; to do whatever he wanted far away from prying eyes. But he was not especially happy, for Hephaistion this was his duty and he would do as his King commanded. Nothing more nothing less. 

 

—Spitamenes won’t be able to hide for much longer and by the time fall comes we’ll start planning the invasion of India –said Alexander. As always his voice was full with overwhelming confidence, as if he were able to see beyond the mist of time, knowing what lie in the future for them all.  

 

That was one of the things Hephaistion liked the most about him, how he was always sure of what he wanted and how to obtain it. His King could have many faults but he never hesitate to take what he desired and he was always true to his word. Every time Alexander said he loved him the hipparch could be sure that he would love him forever.

 

—So, you are serious about this –answered Hephaistion— About India, I mean.

 

—I meant every word I said to King Pharasmenes –said the King, his uneven eyes at the front—I can’t call myself Master of all Asia if India is not in my power. I don’t like to leave things unfinished.

 

—You are getting greedy –as soon as the words escaped from his lips Alexander stopped and turned to look at him, frowning.

 

—I am not greedy –he enunciated, very serious—It is necessary to control India if we want to have the supreme power here.

 

—You said the same thing when we were chasing Darius –Hephaistion reminded him, holding his gaze. He knew the King won’t like to hear this but he was not one of his sycophants, he was his best friend, his lover and soul mate and precisely because he loved him he would be honest—You said we needed to capture Darius to be the true owners of the Persian Empire, then, when Darius died, you said we had to stop Bessus and Nabarzanes to be sure that the Persian Empire was secure. Today you are ordering to crush Spitamenes before losing Bactria and Sogdhiana, satrapies essential to maintain the order in the Empire, and now you said India is necessary so you can be called Master of all Asia.

 

—I have legitimate reasons behind every decision I take –said Alexander—We can’t lose Bactria and Soghiana to the hands of a rebel and India is necessary to secure our supremacy here.

 

—That is precisely what scares me the most –Hephaistion’s voice was soft but firm—That you have legitimate and valid reasons to sustain this endless campaign.

 

— And you don’t agree –Alexander’s face was tensed. The King’s determination was a virtue but some times it was also a curse, especially when determination degenerated into stubbornness.

 

—I didn’t say that, but what I want is for you to admit that, what you really want, is to go to where no other man has gone before –said the hipparch—You want to go to India because not even Cyrus the Great did something like this, and you want to prove that there is no man better than you –the King remained silent—I know you, I know you are not looking for gold and power, what you want is everlasting glory…and I think that is a goal more dangerous than gold and power. 

 

Now Alexander was taken aback.

 

—Why do you say that?

 

—Because you are chasing a dream –said Hephaistion—Something that can’t be measured and something that can consume a man. You are chasing smoke.

 

—The same can be said about power, Phai –Alexander started to walk again and his beloved nodded.

 

—True, but I don’t think there is a force greater than a belief, and you believe in your dream of obtaining everlasting glory and becoming a greater hero than Achilles –the hipparch followed him—Alexander –the King stopped and looked at him—I will follow you even to the end of the world –he said with intensity—But I want you to understand that this dream can be the end of you.

 

Alexander's face softened and, in his uneven eyes he could see the immense love his King felt for him.

 

—Phai, don’t worry about me –he said—My dream, as you call it, would only be dangerous if I fail, and I’m not planning to fail.

 

Hephaistion nodded and fell silent for a moment. Determination or stubbornness? Only time would have the answer to that question. His King was a hard man to judge and he was sure that, in years to come, he would be seen as both as a genius and a madman, but for him it was no doubt of what he felt for his sovereign.

 

—So, I guess I should start preparing myself for the next campaign to India –Alexander smiled.

 

—We’ll be there before you notice –said the King in good spirits—I have everything planned. Spitamenes would be crushed in one season and then, we’ll meet again at Maracanda to start gathering supplies. We’ll spend the winter there and, as soon as spring comes, we march to India.

 

—To India –whispered the hipparch. For him, in those moments, it was just a name with no meaning, something that would change in a couple of years, but, how could he possible know what was going to happen?  

 

I can’t say I liked to be far from Alexander but this time I was grateful for the opportunity to be alone. Nick left with the King, under his direct orders, Aki remained at his adopted father’s side, my cousin Demetrios went with Koinos’ column, my sister and her children remained with Kleitos, who had gone also with the King, Lysanias stayed behind with Krateros and I was left only with Xsayarsa and Kyros.

 

I spent almost 8 months out in the field and did not see Alexander again until it was fall and Achilles’ 10th birthday had come and gone. Eight months…neither thought this campaign against Spitamenes and his rebels would last this long, it was suppose to be one season campaign. But I have to admit that 8 months served me to mature more than I would have thought possible. I had a chance to evaluate my life, to evaluate all that had happened to me in the last years and to think clearly, without Alex, without Nick and without Aki.

 

Hephaistion, mounted on his silver war stallion, surveyed his prisoners, tied to one and other, sitting on the ground after that day’s battle. Battle? Slaughter was more appropriate; these wretched creatures, that called themselves men, were the last remnants of resistance in that zone, and it had been in his hands to finally end with them. He felt strangely calm while his dark gray eyes saw, what a few moments ago, had been a battlefield. 

 

His hands and breastplate were covered in blood, his swords lay silent within its sheath after tasting the flesh of countless enemies that morning. It had been due to him that the enemy had run away terrified, after seeing how Hephaistion had killed many of them so easily, as if he had been born to end men’s lifes. But, despite this, he was calm, even his heart rate was not accelerated and the hipparch saw the carnage in front of him as if it were nothing more than a field of red flowers.

 

And this only served to increase the respect his men felt for him; the captives and Macedonian soldiers shared the same thought in that moment, that he was a God of Death, beyond the earthly suffering of mortals around him.

 

But Hephaistion was calm not because life meant nothing to him but because all these months alone had helped him to understand his own feelings, his own life. This was something he had needed without knowing, to deal with his pain, sadness, joy, happiness and everything alone. The hipparch and Alexander had been together for so long that he had forgotten what was to have a moment for himself, without worrying to explode in front of his son, overcoming things in silence to not preoccupy the King, not saying everything he thought to not hurt his brother. 

 

Xsayarsa and Kyros for moments thought Hephaistion was going crazy, crying, shouting and laughing alone, but that was what he needed and now he felt ready to face everything.

 

—Sir, what are we going to do with the prisoners? –asked one of his men, breaking the heavy silence that the hipparch presence had created.

 

—Cut their heads in front of the leader and, at end, interrogate him –answered Hephaistion. His voice was so devoid of emotion that he scared a bit the man who had asked, but his man felt better when the hipparch looked at him and he found a warm calmness in his eyes. He was not a cold-blooded killer. 

 

— Yes, sir.

 

Unfortunately I can’t say that these 8 months worked in the same way with Alexander. For me it was an opportunity to rediscover myself, for him… These 8 months were a nightmare for my King.

 

We all have orders to meet again at Maracanda but, when I arrived, it was too late. I was away when one of the darkest episodes of my King’s life took place…

 

Lately Alexander was always in a bad mood, something that had Bagoas biting his nails in dismay. When the eunuch, who by now had an excellent grasp of Greek, heard that Hephaistion was sent away from the King for months to come, he was so happy that he was discovered by more than one singing alone. This was finally the chance he had been waiting, the moment for which he had been praying daily to Ahura Mazda and all the Gods of his native land. Bagoas could seduce the King without the interference of the hipparch…or that was what he thought.

 

The fact that Alexander did not want to sleep with Bagoas did not mean that he did not like to have him close. Why? First, because the eunuch was beautiful and the King liked beautiful things; second, Bagoas was highly trained to please, and not only in bed, he knew how to pamper Alexander, how to have his bedroom, his bath, his cloths, everything ready to make him feel truly like the Great King. And lately there were few things that pleased Alexander more than to feel truly like the Great King. 

 

And the eunuch seized this golden opportunity, always there to please the King. He was the perfect personal assistant, the kind that even appeared to read his master’s mind and to foretell his wishes and Alexander loved that. Soon Bagoas took the control over the King’s personal care and, at first, the eunuch had been static, Alexander was pleased with him and more and more trusted in him to the point of letting Bagoas to shave him. What was the great deal about that? To be a King as powerful as Alexander, who had numerous enemies, it was truly an act of trust to let someone to put a sharp blade against his throat.

 

In Bagoas’ opinion his situation had improved tremendously since Hephaistion left. At first he had cursed his luck knowing the hipparch had lost his memory for weeks and he had not been around to take that opportunity and seduced the King, he had such confidence in him that was sure that he only needed one night to make Alexander fall into his charms. Bagoas was sure the Gods were finally smiling at him…until Alexander’s terrible mood proved him wrong.

 

What had happened? Or to be more accurately, what had not happened. The King arrived to Maracanda, a city dating hundreds of years before the Persian Empire was created. Cyrus the Great had conquered it and his successor, Darius I, had named it the capital of the satrapy of Soghdiana. The city offered an impressive sight, like all Persian cities, with its tall buildings of rock, their magnificent archways and colored mosaics, lying at one side of the River Saravsan. It was a place that had prospered through the years because travelers coming from places as far as Babylion on their way to the lands beyond the Empire, always stopped here.

 

It had not taken long for Alexander to put an end to the siege but nobody could say the situation had improved in favor of the Macedonians. Spitamenes was no-where to be found and numerous rumors flew around the King like flies about the rebel’s whereabouts, some said he was hiding among the Massagetae at the other side of the Jaxartes River, others that he was heading to Bactria at the front of a huge army to fight against the Macedonians, and others that he was hiding in the mountains.

 

Spitamenes had gone from being a Soghdian lord to become a rebel, hero, thief or brilliant commander, depending to whom you ask. But, despite of what was true and what was not, one thing could be said with all certainty about Spitamenes and that was that he had turned out to be more intelligent than Alexander would have liked to admit. It had been long ago since the last time someone cause the Macedonian King so many troubles, and the fact that many of his officers were talking about this rebel as the new Memnon did not help to improve the young conqueror’s mood.

 

Sadly, but the only thing that lately appeared to make Alexander happy was the wine. And the wine had proven a greater opponent for Bagoas than Hephaistion had ever been, to the eunuch’s utterly dismay. The eunuch had tried daily to sleep with the King, he had even danced for him one night, just for him, demonstrating that the Gods had blessed him with a heavenly grace, but unfortunately, even if Alexander had been pleased all of Bagoas’ efforts had gone to the trashcan in the same moment one of the Macedonian officers came with news that Spitamenes had defeated, again, another one of the King’s men.  

 

Now Bagoas was not sure that the Gods were smiling at him, more likely, they were playing with him and laughing to tears making him suffer.

 

XXX

 

—You are 10 and but still fighting like a boy –roared Kleitos one evening. He was training Achilles in one of the palace’s gardens, surrounded by tall walls and archways. They had started their training early that morning but the hipparch threatened his young student that he won’t let him rest until the Prince was able to disarm him—When King Philip was not much older than you he had already killed his first man –Kleitos pushed him with force making him lose his balance and fall— You are princess!

 

—I am not! –shouted the Prince, standing up with difficulty. He bent over, using his two wooden swords to rest his weight while trying to catch his breath. Achilles was covered in bruises, especially on the arms and legs, his knees scratched and bleeding and his thighs covered in purple marks; but it was not the pain what bothered him as the words his teacher had said.   

 

—Those are swords lad, not sticks –barked Kleitos—Attack me again or I’ll beat you with those swords like a dog.  

 

Achilles took a deep breath and stood again in his attack position. His whole body protested immediately and he could feel his knees trembling so much that for a moment he feared he would fall. It was impossible for a boy like him to beat a man like the hipparch, Kleitos was not only much more stronger than the Prince, he was also taller and if Achilles tried to disarm him using only brute force he would end with a broken rib.

 

He took a deep breath and obliged himself to remember what had his father taught him, the same words grandfather Demetrios had said to him once.

 

You don’t have to be stronger than your opponent Aki, you only need to be faster...

 

Hephaistion trained him when he had time, but unfortunately that was not very often, and yet his father’s words had always helped him in his times of need and Achilles was sure today it would be no different.

 

Faster, I will be faster –thought the Prince with determination.

 

—What are you waiting? A formal invitation? –shouted Kleitos, but Achilles did not move. His father had also taught him that patience was the key to win a fight.

 

And it worked.

 

The hipparch attacked him first, and the Prince moved to the left in the last moment to dodge his attack, he was left-handed and knew his mentor had problems attacking on that side. Kleitos’ wooden sword hit the ground and Achilles took that opportunity to attack his exposed side. The hipparch smiled and turned quickly to stop him but his student was expecting this, he was shorter than Kleitos and it was easy to dodge again his sword, hearing it cutting the air over his head.

 

Achilles hit then with one sword the hipparch’s right hand, Kleitos let his sword fell, and with the second sword the boy hit his abdomen so hard that he heard his mentor cursing.

 

—I win –declared the Prince panting,

 

It took a moment for the hipparch to realize what had just happened. At first he looked tensed, perhaps even angry, and Achilles embraced himself waiting for a blow or a rebuke, but instead, his mentor threw his head back and laughed. That scared the Prince more than if Kleitos had hit him, and he jumped almost dropping his swords.

 

—Well done, lad! –the hipparch patted his back with such force that Achilles was sure he had broken him a bone or something—Your grandfather would be proud of you –he said talking about King Philip and that made the Prince smiled. It was the first time he got a compliment from his mentor and he felt immensely happy—Next time we’ll use real swords –he spat at his side—You are ready to leave this toys. 

 

The Prince’s eyes shone excited. Real swords! Like his father and Kleitos used; did that mean his mentor considered him now a man? He knew he had to kill his first man in order to be treated like one, but, in those moments he felt so happy that did not pay attention to these details. Achilles imagined how could be that day, they he came with the head of his first man, he saw himself as tall as his father, wearing a shining armor and while he walked, people around him whispered with admiration how brave was their Prince.

 

He smiled. He had to write to his father and tell him about what happened that day.

 

XXX

 

Not far from there Bagoas had witnessed the scene from a balcony. He was heading back to the King’s chambers when he was attracted by the noise; several guards had stopped to see what was happening, and some had even bet if their young Prince would be able or not to defeat the invincible hipparch.  

 

When Bagoas first arrived at Zadracarta he was sure Achilles was Alexander’s biological son, they were much alike and the King treated him with more care and love than Darius had done towards his own children. Now the eunuch knew the Prince was Hephaistion’s son and the King’s nephew but, even if he hated the hipparch, he did not feel the same towards Achilles, in fact, Bagoas was curious about the boy, so intelligent and beautiful, so young and at the same time so old. He had never met someone like him and he found the Prince fascinating. What kind of King would he become? 

 

He was not stupid. The eunuch knew that, even if Alexander one day had a son of his own, he would never disown Achilles. Why? Because this boy was everything a King could ask from an heir, except perhaps the little detail of his fragile health, but the Prince was no coward, and this little duel against Kleitos was also the proof that he could fight. One day Achilles would be Great King and he did not want to insult him, besides, Bagoas knew better than to antagonize Alexander ill-treating his son.

 

Soon, the eunuch lost interest in what was happening at the garden and continued his way. So far all his plans to seduce Alexander had failed, even if Hephaistion wasn’t around the King wasn’t in the mood for anything, besides drinking that is. But this time he had the perfect plan.

 

As every night the eunuch prepared the King’s bedroom with care. He waited until Alexander arrived to give him a very especial bath with the hope that this would relax and, at the same time arouse him. His position would not be secure unless the King took him as his lover, Bagoas was convinced of that; he had heard that it was a Greek custom for adult men to take a younger lover, why then Alexander did not touch him? Hephaistion was getting old, he was older than the King, for Ahura Mazda’s sake!

 

He took both hands to his face and closed his eyes. He had to calm down, the King was in a bad mood and the last thing he needed was to enter his room and find a hysterical eunuch. Bagoas opened his eyes and took a deep breath. He walked to the closest mirror to check that his appearance was impeccable, he nodded, pleased with what he found. He was 17 years old now, 2 years had passed since Nabarzanes had given him as a present to the young conqueror and, in that time, what had he achieved? Nothing.

 

If Hephaistion was getting old so was he. He had been 10 when they trained him to live in the Persian court, 12 when he first shared the Great King’s bed, 15 when he met the Macedonian Lion, and now…Now he was an eunuch of 17. Bagoas needed to act quickly; he did not want to wait until he was ugly and withered like that old hag of Xsayarsa. How he hated Xsayarsa! Always giving him nasty looks, wanting to know what was he planning. It was a relief that he had gone away with his master.

 

The noise of the door opening gave Bagoas a start. He turned and found the King drunk, very drunk, after another drinking party. One of his pages helped him to reach the bed and he fell like a heavy sack of grain.  

 

—He is all yours –said the page before leaving and the eunuch did his best not to sigh or shake his head. He waited until the boy left and helped Alexander to change his cloths.

 

The strong smell of wine and meat filled Bagoas’ nostrils but he gave no signs that this displeased him. Again, he wanted his master to feel comfortable.

 

—Your majesty, my King and King of the four corners of the world, is it your wish to take a bath? –asked the eunuch in Greek, giving him the same title that once belong to Cyrus the Great.

 

—Why would I want a bath? –it had always amazed the eunuch that, no mattered how drunk were the King, he always appeared to be lucid.

 

—It would relax your muscles, King of Kings –no matter how old was Bagoas, his voice continued to be soft and melodic, and it would remain like this for years to come. It was a pleasant sound, almost like a woman’s voice but with something different.

 

It was not a bad idea and Alexander agreed. Bagoas had everything ready, he bathed him with aromatic incense burning in the room, flower petals floating over the hot water, and the eunuch relaxed him with his soft caresses and strokes. The King remained silent but for the soft sighs and moans it was clear that he was enjoying this treatment and the eunuch’s hopes burned in his chest. When the bath ended he dried the King with care, brushing slightly, almost by accident, his thighs, his manhood, and nipples, making Alexander feel soft tickles.

 

The eunuch was careful not to be blunt but at the same time not to be too subtle. Unfortunately, things did not turn out as he had planned, and his caressed instead of arousing the King, made him sleep, finally succumbing to the power of wine.

 

Bagoas cursed.

 

XXX

 

…Phai, Spitamenes is well aware that he would never defeat me in open battle so he is fighting me at several points at the same time. Do you remember that I left Krateros in charge of Bactria? Spitamenes fooled him, took a border fortress and ravaged the land around Zariaspa. Under Krateros’ nose!

 

Krateros tried his best to capture Spitamenes but he escaped after a savage battle. The rebel turned out to be an splendid magician, don’t you agree? So far he has made more than one of my officers look like idiots, attacking and disappearing before someone could do as much as to call to arms. Did you know that the wretched rebel is now using Massagetae as his cavalry force?…

 

Hephaistion did not have to see Alexander’s face to know he was furious when he wrote that letter, not only the words, also the handwriting, told him everything he needed to know. Usually the King dictated his letters, he had several clerks and secretaries for this sole purpose, but not when he wrote to him, he liked to do it in person.

 

The hipparch knew the situation was bad, Spitamenes, just as Alexander had said, was clever enough to avoid facing the King on a battlefield and he had chose to fight a guerrilla: striking fast and then hiding. Nobody knew where was the Sogdhian leader and even if he, and the rest of his companions, had fought against several rebellious groups more were appearing.

 

A one season campaign had turned into an endless series of small battles and a collection of defeats. He had the impression that this was like fighting against the hydra, no mattered how many heads they cut, more appeared.  

 

The hipparch sighed and left the letter at his side on the bed.

 

—Bad news? –asked Kyros, lighting the lamps of the room.   

 

—You can say that –Hephaistion rubbed his eyes—Alexander is in a terrible mood.

 

—What happened?

 

—Well –the hipparch leaned against the bedside— He is eager to go to India –he smiled—You should hear him, he is very excited and has all these great plans…he was even planning to start gathering supplies during the winter for the next campaign and now… Alex thought it would be easy to finish this revolt, but now he is stuck here with Spitamenes and unable to march on India.

 

—India? –Kyros turned to look at him surprised—You are kidding me!

 

—I’m afraid not.

 

—But…Why does the King want to go to India? –asked the Theban.

 

—To be truly the Lord of all Asia –Hephaistion yawned. He was tired—Alex likes to have things done always in his way, in this moment he wants to go to India but he can’t and this has him in a terrible mood.

 

— I have noticed that –Kyros smiled—He is like a controller freak.

 

The hipparch laughed. He would not have said it better.

 

—Yes, I guess he is –he said—You can imagine then that he is not happy right now. He planned to crush Spitamenes in one season and move on to India, and now, he is stuck here in a guerrilla that appeared to have no end and he can’t follow his plans –he yawned again—Alex has never been a patience man, and Spitamenes is making a fool of him…or at least that is how he feels –his fingers played with the locket hanging from his neck— I bet you that he is furious and drinking more than he should.

 

Kyros sat down on the bed.

 

—How can you possible know all this? It has been months since the last time you saw the King.

 

—Yes Kyros but I know him better than myself –Hephaistion smiled wearily—I feel pity for his men, he is…hard to deal with when he is angry, and when he is angry he drinks a lot and when he drinks a lot –he sighed—You saw what happened at Persepolis.

 

—Do you think he is going to burn Maracanda? –asked the Theban surprise and the hipparch laughed.

 

—No! –he exclaimed absolutely certain of what he was saying, then, he thought this better and said seriously—I hope not. 

 

Kyros and him laughed.

 

—Well, you will see him soon and I am sure that would improve his mood –said the Theban.

 

— I hope –the hipparch looked at the letter again. It had arrived that day and for the date he knew his King had written it a couple of weeks ago.

 

It was time for him to go to Maracanda but he was still far away and it would take him at least 3 weeks, if he pressed his men, to reach the city. What would he find when he arrived?

 

XXX