CHAPTER 177

 

This was not something that Hephaistion looked forward to do, in fact, he had to admit he was a little scared and utterly lost. At 29 years old he believed he was ready for everything, after all, he had lived more in those years of campaign than any old Macedonian man during his entire life. Nothing could surprise him…except this of course. How does one explain to an almost 12 years old boy that his best friend, his only friend, was a traitor?

 

Achilles was brilliant, nobody doubted that, not even Eumenes who hated the hipparch with such intensity that it was starting to be dangerous to his own health. If he continued like that, the royal secretary would die from liver stones. No, nobody questioned that the Crown Prince was a genius, but he was still a boy and a boy who had great problem making friends.

 

My first concerned, while Alexander and I walked to my son’s chambers the day after we heard the news about Darius’ son, was Aki’s inability to make friends of his own age. The only friend Aki had, who was also a boy, was Cyrus Ochus and he was about to find out that, not only his only friend had betrayed his adopted father, he had betrayed him too, his trust in him, and what he thought he knew about the Persian. In other words, I thought, Aki would start doubting his own capacity to judge people because he had made a very big mistake judging Cyrus Ochus.

 

As things turned out I was wrong. My son did not doubt his own judgment but something did change in him, something I could have never foreseeing…But I will explain this later. Where was I? Oh, yes! Walking at the side of my King heading to the Prince’s room to share the dreadful news. Neither Alexander or I wanted our son to hear this from another mouth so, even at that late hour, we knocked at his door…

 

— Aki, we need to talk –said Hephaistion without preambles. It was late at night, but the boy was still up, sitting on his bed with the back against the bedside; several oil lamps lit so he could read again the copy of the Iliad that his adopted father had given to him years ago.

 

Despite the sudden appearance Achilles was not surprise to find his fathers there, in fact he had been expecting them since the news reached him that afternoon. He left the Iliad at his side with all care, and moved to sit down at the foot of his bed. The King and his beloved looked dead serious, worried, but above everything else both were extremely tired. After the capture of the fortress neither had had a moment of peace; many things required their immediate attention and, since the young conqueror had a burning urge to get to India as if his life depended on it, every second was precious and not to be wasted.  

 

— I already heard the rumors –said the Prince before they could do as much as open their mouth, taking them aback. He knew about Cyrus? How? Who had told him? The hipparch was so angry in those moments; he just hoped his son had not heard it from Eumenes.

 

— You know? –asked Hephaistion, his mouth suddenly dry, and Achilles nodded.

 

— I know dad is getting married –he said and his father released the air he did not know he was holding. They had not come to discuss this but it was a great to opportunity to do it, so…

 

— And, what do you think of my wedding? –asked Alexander, taking a seat at his Prince’s side while his beloved dragged a chair, sitting in front of his son.

 

— I don’t know –answered Achilles, watching his feet while swinging his legs.

 

— You don’t know?! –exclaimed the hipparch. Something here was amiss— Aki, you always have an opinion about everything, what’s wrong? You don’t like the idea? —the boy shook his head. 

 

— It is a good idea –answered the Prince, still avoiding to look at them— I mean, Oxyartes can be a great ally, he is one of the few nobles who still enjoys a little prestige and it would be splendid to have him on our side, especially now that Mazaeus died and government is about to change at Babylon, we need stability. Soghdiana needs to be pacify and the King needs to get marry and…

 

— Aki look at me –Alexander interrupted him and the boy did as he was told— What do you really think?

 

The King stressed the word “really” and Achilles knew his adopted father did not need a lecture about politics, he had to be honest with him…But it was so difficult! The Prince knew there was no reasonable explanation to what he was feeling, in fact, he considered himself a fool just thinking about it, but still, he couldn’t avoid it. At the end the boy took a deep breath and held the edge of his cloths with force.

 

— Nothing, it’s just…is something silly…

 

— Well, I want to hear that silly thing –the King insisted and his adopted son fell silent.

 

— Aki –said Hephaistion sweetly, leaning to the front, resting his weight on his elbow over his thighs— It’s all right son, you can trust us, what is bothering you?

 

— You will think I am stupid –said the Prince.

 

— We will never think that about you –Alexander assured him in that tone of voice of his, so sure of himself, that he could convince his men that the sky was yellow.

 

Achilles took a deep breath and held the edge of his cloths even harder.

 

— If you get marry…you will have your own children and…you will forget about me –he said, feeling his face blushing, looking everywhere but at his fathers and moving the King’s heart.

 

— Aki, you are my son, how could I forget about my son?

 

— I am not your biological son –answered the boy promptly, it was clear he had given this a lot of thought— You will have a proper wife, a family, and you will love your sons more than me. 

 

— Look at me –asked the King and the Prince obeyed— I do not know where did you got this idea, but for me you are as good as if you were my own son, we both shared the same blood and the same ancestors and that is something that nobody can change –he pinched Achilles’ nose, making him smile.

 

The boy took a deep breath, he was feeling much better now.

 

— See? I told you it was a silly thing –he said, making both his fathers laugh— When am I going to meet your bride?

 

— Tomorrow, if you want –the Prince nodded.

 

The fell silent for a moment. Was it a good idea to tell Achilles about what happened with Cyrus Ochus in that moment? Hephaistion was really tempted to leave this for another time, it was more than obvious that the boy was a little upset because of the wedding and this news could be devastated; but then, his dark gray eyes met the King’s uneven ones, finding only determination there, and he understood without words.

 

We have to do it now before Aki hears about this from someone with less tact –he reminded himself.

 

— Aki, we came to talk to you about something else –said the hipparch with caution.

 

— About what? –Achilles frowned, he had been so sure that they had came because of the wedding that he was truly clueless of what they could possible want.

 

The King and his beloved exchanged gazes and that started to worry the boy, something really bad must have happened to have his father this nervous.

 

— It’s about Cyrus –said his father, increasing the Prince’s anxiety.

 

— Is he ill?…or death? –Achilles felt a knot in his stomach just thinking that he would never see his best friend again.

 

— No, he is perfectly fine –said the hipparch, feeling terrible when he saw the Prince’s relief. He was a fool! “He is perfectly fine” He should have never said some like that— But he…—Hephaistion took a deep breath and brushed his hair behind his ear. He needed to be honest and direct, there was no better way to deliver bad news— Aki, Cyrus is leading a revolt against Alexander. 

 

For a moment the Prince did not move, he did not even blink, it was as if he had not heard a word of what his father said; then, he frowned, as if he were in pain, and opened his mouth several times not knowing what to say. Achilles was tempted to ask if it was a joke, but the expressions on Hephaistion’s and Alexander’s face told him everything he needed to know. The boy wanted to ask why, but he found the answer alone: there had been months since Cyrus started to act really weird around him, and years since his hatred towards the Macedonian King increased.

 

Little by little his best friend had started to change but Achilles was sure that everything had been worst after Babylon, first when Cyrus saw that all the honors and gifts that were once his were now for Achilles, and after the sacking and burning of Persepolis the situation had gotten even worse. Even if the news pained the Prince he had to admit that he believed his friend perfectly capable of doing such a crazy thing as to rise in arms against the conqueror, but it pained him even more not have been capable of stopping him.

 

— Do you know where he is? –asked Achilles at long last, his voice trembling. He looked so fragile that this broke his father’s heart— I mean, I can talk to him, I’m sure that he will listen to me and stop this madness…

 

— Aki –Alexander did not raise his voice but it was so full of authority that his adopted son fell silent— I don’t know where Cyrus is and, even if I knew, I would not send my only son and heir into enemy territory to talk to him –the Prince held the edge of his cloths once again.

 

— But he is going to get himself kill! –exclaimed the Prince, fat tears trapped at the corner of his eyes— If I could talk to him…—he sobbed— Someone must have tricked him, I knew he was not happy but he is not stupid and…

 

His adopted father took him by the shoulder, softening his voice while the boy cried in silence.

 

— Son, I know he is your friend but…—Alexander sighed— There is only one thing I can do for him now, and I promise to you that if Cyrus surrenders, I will show mercy to him.

 

— Thank…hic… you –sobbed Achilles and Hephaistion embraced him.

 

No one, not even Aki, knew how much he would change after this, not even I could fully comprehend it until it was too late, until I was already dead…

 

XXX

 

They had no time to waste and Alexander got married that same week for the anger, puzzlement and frustration of more than one of his officers. It was funny how, for this occasion, everyone agreed to disagree with the King’s choice for a bride, no one wanted a barbarian Queen, at least no one among the Macedonian nobles who felt insulted when their dashing young sovereign decided to marry a nobody instead of one of their sisters/daughters/nieces/cousins. Not even Leonnatos or Krateros were happy knowing that their Queen would be a 16 years old girl, daughter of an enemy, who could not even speak Greek, but there was little they could do about this.

 

The most polite remained silent before their King’s decision, and the not so polite complained so much that one may thought people back at Macedonia could hear them.

 

Hephaistion was not jumping happily but at least he understood why Alexander was doing this, something that nobody else appeared to do. As the hipparch had said this was indeed a very clever solution to gain allies in this everlasting fight to pacify Soghdiana, he understood the political part even if on a more personal level he did not feel so sure about it. Of course there was a banquet, not as lavishing or sumptuous as an event like the wedding of a Great King should to be, but again there was no time to waste.

 

Despite all I had said to Alexander about his marriage I had to admit that it bothered me a little… Was I jealous? No, I was not, mine was a feeling much more complicated. I don’t know why so many people in the Modern Days think I was devastated when my King got married, but I guess the problem may be the modern concept of marriage. As I said to you once that concept of faithfulness in marriage it’s a Christian idea, so, technically, the fact that my lover was getting married did not mean a great deal for us. A wife did not have to be an impediment to continue with our relationship, after all, one just had to look at Nikandros to know that being married did not mean saying good-bye to other lovers.

 

I don’t have to remind you that King Philip had several wives and that Alexander married later Stateira, Darius’ daughter. No, a wife was not something worth worrying at my time, then, why did it bother me? It did because before that night, we had always be Alexander and I, now it would be, Alexander, his Queen, and I and I was uncomfortable thinking that my lover was going to make a woman very unhappy because of me. This was the main reason of why I never like the idea of my lover marrying my own sister.

 

I was nervous that night thinking in all the things that would change and how Alexander was perfectly capable to ignore Roxanne completely and continue at my side as if nothing had happened and this, believe it or not, was a terrible idea. I always tried to avoid having people talking about our King’s sexuality and if he continued giving me an especial place at his side, even if he was married, it would be no good and the men could start whispering questioning his manliness.

 

That was what really bothered me that night but more than one of my companions thought that my lack of enthusiasm at the wedding was because of my jealousy. Since many could not understand why was Alexander getting marry, many thought he had truly fallen in love with Roxanne and Krateros took special care in making fun of me, but I said nothing. I was not going to make a scene amusing all my enemies with an answer to the commander’s vulgar remarks. 

 

— Phai, you look as if our mother had died –said Nikandros, taking a seat at his brother’s side— Don’t tell me that Krateros is right and you are jealous.

 

— I am NOT jealous –said Hephaistion in a horrible mood, tired of repeating the same thing over and over again. He had been fine when the banquet began, concerned with lots of things on his mind, but fine. But after hours of having everybody thinking he was jealous that had changed— I don’t know what is wrong with you people. Leon came with his best grieving face as if he were to give me condolences and asking if I was fine, Perdikkas offered to stay with me, Thais said that, if I wanted to talk to someone, I could always count on her, and Ptolemy actually held my hand and shook his head gravely.  

 

— Hey! I’m just asking –his brother raised his arms surrendering— Besides, it’s hard to know if you are jealous or not with that face. You can hardly blame us for thinking this, after all, for the first time in a banquet, you are not sitting at your lover’s side.  

 

— I am angry –the hipparch growled— And sick of people asking if I am fine.

 

— Whatever –Nikandros sighed, reclining on the couch. For a moment his emerald eyes wandered around the hall, surveying the faces of the unhappy guests who made a supreme effort to look, if not please, at least not ready to kill the Persians reunited there, until they stopped on the King and his now wife, Roxanne— Your lover has good taste –he said, examining the Queen with such meticulousness that someone may have thought he was planning to buy her— She is a very nice girl, even under all those veils you can tell she has a great body.  

 

— I suppose you are right –said Hephaistion, dismissing this as unimportant.

 

— Have you already met her in private? –Nikandros asked with curiosity.

 

— No, I’m too busy, but there will be time later –said the hipparch, making the lochagos laugh.

 

— You know? For someone who claims he is not jealous you do a very good job pretending you are –his brother teased him. 

 

— Can we change the subject?

 

— As you wish –they fell silent.

 

A servant filled their cups again but the hipparch, for incredible as it sounded, was not in the mood to drink.

 

— Phai, have you noticed that lately your lover is always surrounded by Persians? –Nikandros pointed out, looking at a very happy Oxyartes and his family, and other Persian nobles that had followed Alexander since they left Babylon— Many lads are really piss off with this, feeling that now they have not only to compete with their fellow Macedonians for the highest posts in the army, but also with the Persians –he took a sip of wine— And now, our dashing King marries a barbarian –the lochagos laughed— He truly knows how to make enemies.  

 

— He is the King –said Hephaistion, making an effort to relax, after all what was bothering him was not Nikandros’ fault— He can do whatever he wants.

 

— Yes, but after what happened with Kleitos, in his place, I would have been really careful to not offend more people –now the hipparch laughed, truly amused. 

 

— Nick, since when you like to talk about politics? –Nikandros kicked him, playfully as he used to do when they were boys.

 

— Don’t talk to me as if I were a fool –the lochagos complained— I am your big brother.

 

— Then behave like one –Hephaistion teased him and his brother threw him backwards against the couch in a tickling attack.

 

The hipparch tried to punch and kick him, laughing, unable to stop and feeling how the air was not reaching his lungs. More than one stopped to look at the brothers frowning and shaking their heads but no one said a thing, strangest things had happened during banquets host by the Macedonian King. 

 

— Stop… —asked Hephaistion, his face blushed— Please…stop…

 

Nikandros stopped tickling him and for a moment neither moved. The lochagos was over the hipparch, hearing him panting, looking enthralled at his silky disheveled hair covering part of his face. How he had missed this! In a second everything around them disappeared, the music, the voices, the smells, everything dissolved until only them were left, until only the other’s breathing mattered most than life itself. That sweet promise on Hephaistion’s lips appeared to called Nikandros and, unconsciously, he moved closer until their lips were just inches apart, feeling his brother’s breath over his skin, but, before he could kiss him...

 

— Don’t… —whispered Hephaistion without breath, looking at his brother through heavily lidded eyes— Not here…

 

Not here? –thought the lochagos, but he did not ask. He pulled his brother, helping him to sit down, and the hipparch stood up. Words were not necessary and Nikandros followed him.

 

XXX

 

Roxanne could not believe her good luck. Yesterday she was the daughter of Oxyartes, a man who, in her opinion, had a severe and alarming lack of intelligence and good judgment, but tonight she was a Queen, and not any Queen, but the wife of the most powerful man on the earth. She had always harbored great ambitions in her heart, reason why the now Queen had been so furious when her father had decided to swear alliance to Bessus. For Roxanne it had been obvious that the late satrap’s fight was a lost one, and only a fool would be unable to see it.

 

Yes, Oxyartes was her father but he was a fool. How she had cried in frustration, pulling her hair when, after Bessus’ death, her father still insisted in fighting against the Macedonian conqueror instead of being on his knees swearing loyalty to him. How she wished she had been born a man to create her own destiny. But now, now everything was right. Not even in Roxanne’s wildest dreams she would have dared to imagine herself as the Queen of the Persian Empire, the first wife of the Great King, and her infinite happiness was visible to all in her dashing smile that many misinterpret as love.

 

Roxanne settled her olive eyes on her husband, looking at him, through the many veils that covered her figure, as one may look at a good strong warhorse. She saw a handsome young man, that was good, but it was not important, she would have married a man 3 times Alexander’s age, lame, ugly and with a hump just to be in the place she was now. Roxanne was not looking for a great romance, that was for fools; the Queen considered men, all men, simple creatures easily manipulated by a good pair of tits and she had proven, more than once, that it only take for a woman to play the fool in order to trick a stupid man.

 

No, Roxanne did not want romance, what she wanted was power and if she knew it were possible for her to become a Great Queen, she would not think twice in killing Alexander that same night; but no, as a woman the only way to obtain power was by marrying a powerful man and giving birth to his sons, not daughters, sons. Daughters were useless and Roxanne would not have another woman under her roof that could compete with her in beauty. 

 

His sons –thought the Queen and her eyes settled then on Achilles, looking at him as if the almost 12 years old boy were a horrible deformed thing that had just sprung suddenly from earth. 

 

Achilles was the Crown Prince, he was the Great King’s heir. What did this mean? It meant that, no matter how many sons Roxanne gave to Alexander, she would never be the mother of the next Great King, and this simply could not be. She did not know who was Achilles’ mother and Roxanne made the same mistake that many before her did, she truly thought the Prince was Alexander’s biological son. The Queen knew little about him but she bowed to learn more about Achilles, her true obstacle to become the Queen she wanted to be.

 

Roxanne took a deep breath and smoothed the fabric of her dress.

 

Nothing is certain in this world –thought the Queen, narrowing her eyes— Who knows? A boy of 12 years old can always suffer an accident.

 

And with that thought the smile returned to her lips.

 

XXX

 

— May I sit here? –asked Seleucus taking Achilles aback. The boy was lost in his thoughts, far away with his friend Cyrus, sitting again on a couch all by his own at the right side of the King and his wife.

 

The Prince did not hear Seleucus approaching, lost thinking in his friend at the front of armed men looking to spill Macedonian blood. He could not stop asking himself the same question over and over again: Could he have stopped Cyrus from doing this? He knew the Persian was upset, he knew Cyrus hated Alexander each day a little more, and he had done nothing. Was this his fault? And so lost was Achilles, in the middle of a party celebrating a happy occasion, but not enjoying it, that he looked truly surprised when he found Seleucus standing there.

 

— Of course, archihypaspistes –answered the Prince and the newcomer sat at his side.

 

— I see you already heard the news –said the now archihypaspistes with a smile, pleased with himself.

 

— The King told me he appointed you commander of the Argyraspides –said Achilles, without joy but with all respect— Congratulations.

 

Now, I have to explain something here. Do you remember that Nikanor, Parmelio’s son, was commander of the Hypaspist? Well, the Argyraspides was the new name of the Hypaspist, a very big command for Seleucus.

 

— Thank you –answered Seleucus, really pleased to hear those words coming from that mouth. 

 

The archihypaspistes wasn’t very sure of why the King had chosen him for this post, especially after what had happened just a couple of nights before in his room; but he decided not to ask unnecessary things and just accepted this great honor that could be the beginning of his very delayed brilliant military career. For a moment Seleucus even thought it had been thanks to the Prince that he had been granted this command, especially after the letters, but he did not want to harbor illusions, at least not until they had talked.  

 

— What do you think of the Queen? –asked the archihypaspistes, in a conversational tone and Achilles took a moment before answering.

 

He was not in the mood for small talk but he was not going to be rude. He may be still young but he understood better than most that a King, or a Crown Prince in his case, was not like the rest of men, and it did not mattered if he was sad or angry, he had to behave always as if everything were perfect and he had the best of lives. 

 

— She is very beautiful, and intelligent –said the boy at long last— The King has great taste but…

 

— But?

 

The Prince looked at the royal couple for a long moment, he had thought a lot of things about Roxanne, especially since his adopted father had introduced them a day before. It had been a brief encounter and the now Queen had been very sweet to him but…He shook his head.

 

— Nothing, this is not the time or the place for this –he answered, intriguing Seleucus.

 

A servant approached them with the third course of the meal, and a very beautiful girl filled the archihypaspistes’ cup again. Achilles had already drunk his 3 cups of heavily watered wine.

 

—Achilles, listen, I want to ask you something –said Seleucus, finally touching the subject of his interest and the Prince looked at him intrigued— It’s about your letters.

 

— What letters?

 

That was a very bad start. The archihypaspistes only had to look at Achilles’ blank expression to know he truly had no idea of what was he talking about. Of course he had contemplated the possibility that the Prince had not written the letters and now he was certain of this. But then, a more important question arose, who wrote those letters? Seleucus moved closer to him, so close that he could smell the soap impregnated in the boy’s skin and this made him shuddered; he wanted to kiss him, so badly, that he had to clench his fists, burying the nails in his flesh.

 

— Someone sent me 2 letters bearing your name –he whispered, catching Achilles’ attention.

 

— What do they say? –the Prince asked between alarmed and curious, and, unconsciously moved even closer to the archihypaspistes.

 

Seleucus felt his pulse quickening, he just had to cock his head a little to kiss him, Gods! How he had dreamed this moment, he longed to have Achilles in his arms and because of this madding desire he had managed to control the savage urge of bedding Hephaistion when he had the opportunity. After all, he was sure the Prince would never forgive him if he had slept with his father.

 

— The letters said that you loved me but couldn’t be with me because Hephaistion did not let you –as soon as he pronounced those words the archihypaspistes expected to hear the boy laughing, but Achilles remained serious for his utterly surprise, thinking carefully about this.

 

— Who delivered the letters? –he asked with professional interest.

 

— Royal servants, always a different one.

 

— Do you still have them? –the Prince wanted to know.

 

— Yes.

 

— Show me.

 

— They are in my room if you…

 

— Let’s go then –said Achilles, standing up while Seleucus’ brain started to register what he had said.

 

Achilles plus my room plus both of us alone…Oh sweet Aphrodite! This is no good –thought the archihypaspistes but he found no way to refuse and soon both were walking to his room.

 

XXX

 

Achilles read the letters twice, paying more attention to the paper, the ink and the handwriting than to the actual content. Seleucus stayed at the threshold, standing with his arms crossed and trying his best to think in something else besides the Prince’s slender legs. As always the boy was dressed in a chiton, this time blue making his cerulean eye looked like the night sky, distant and mysterious, and utterly fascinating. Achilles could be young but he had something especial and his eyes, even if they did not hold secrets untold like his father’s, spoke of a great soul hidden behind them, increasing his appeal to anyone watching them.

 

— This is Egyptian parchment –said the Prince at last, lifting his eyes to face the commander.

 

— Why are you so sure? –Seleucus rested his weight against the door’s frame.

 

— Because I have seen it before, on the King’s desk –said Achilles, seated in front of a table with the second letter opened before him. This piece of information caught the archihypaspistes’ attention— Whoever wrote this –he raised the letter— Has access to the royal tent, besides…—he fell silent for a moment and the other approached him.

 

— What?

 

— This handwriting, doesn’t tell you anything? –asked the Prince and Seleucus took the letter to examine it with calm. He had been so excited thinking it was from Achilles that had not stopped to actually analyze it. 

 

— It looks feminine –said the commander, frowning, and the boy nodded.

 

— Exactly! –Achilles stood up at Seleucus’ side, so close that the archihypaspistes felt the heat coming from his body like a brazier— Look how are these words written –the boy pointed with his index finger— Too flourished and too neat, this was written by a woman, but, how many women has access to the royal tent? 

 

Seleucus puffed his cheeks out.

 

— I can think of none.

 

— My aunt Eni is one –answered the Prince, promptly— But she would never do this, besides, since her husband’s death she does not want to be near the King. Thais, Ptolemy’s mistress, only comes to the royal tent with him, and I find very unlikely that she would do such a thing. I can think of several other women, but we can’t discard the possibility that someone else stole the paper for them –he shook his head— We could be here all night guessing but in order to find a plausible culprit we have to ask ourselves something.

 

— What? –asked the archihypaspistes, amazed at how the Prince’s mind worked.

 

— Who would gain something by doing this? –asked Achilles and Seleucus had to agree with him.

 

The archihypaspistes moved away and threw his arms in the air.

 

— I have no idea.

 

— Do you have enemies? –asked the boy.

 

— Achilles, any man who had raised high enough as to be named commander of the Argyraspides has enemies –answered Seleucus making him blush. That had been a foolish question and the Prince hated to be a fool, even if the older one was no looking to humiliate him— But you made me thought about something, no man would be losing time sending love letters to deceive me, this is something a boy or a woman would do. 

 

The boy fell silent, thinking.

 

— Seleucus, why were you that night at the King’s tent with my father? –he asked, truly curious.

 

— I went that night to talk to you about the letters –answered the archihypaspistes, pacing around the room in a vain attempt to stay away from the Prince— One of the pages said you had gone with the King so I decided to confront Hephaistion.

 

— Confront? So, you thought these were actually mine? –Achilles was not making fun of him, he just wanted to know but Seleucus felt like the biggest fool of all times in those moments.

 

— I wasn’t sure they were yours, but I hoped they were –he admitted and for his complete delight the Prince blushed. The boy cleared his throat, even if that was not necessary, and settled his eyes again on the letter.  

 

— So, it was a coincidence that you found my father drugged –said Achilles, but this time he was not looking at the commander, he kept looking at the parchment as if expecting that it would start talking at any second.

 

— How do you know about that? –Seleucus was not very happy knowing that his adoration knew about what had happened that night in that room, but he had to admit that Achilles was everything but common and his curiosity was picked, what did he thought about that night?

 

— I have ears and I am not a child anymore –answered the Prince, looking at the room with curiosity— I know about the wine –he made a pause, his eyes on the closed window— I would have never thought these 2 events were connected but now… I am not so sure.

 

Seleucus frowned.

 

— What do you mean?

 

Achilles sat down on the bed and the archihypaspistes cursed his luck. Why the bed? Why? He was sure this was some sort of punishment.

 

— Chrysaor told me a very curious story. I would have never suspected anything if you hadn’t mentioned your letters, but now I see a pattern. He received a letter from my father the night you found him drugged –said the Prince— Chrysaor laughed when he received it and threw the letter because he can’t read, and my father knows it, so he assumed it was a joke.

 

Seleucus nodded slowly.

 

— But someone trying to put a trap for your father may not have known that Chyrsaor can’t read –he said.

 

— Exactly! Now, for what I see you received those letters a couple of days before that night, and, I do not believe in coincidences. I do think that the same person who sent you these sent the other letter to Chrysaor because Yarsa said it was delivered by a royal servant, the same as your letters –Achilles explained.

 

Seleucus sat at the Prince’s side, he knew this was a mistake but he could not retrain himself, he wanted to be near him.

 

— Do you have a suspect?

 

— Just one –said the Prince, holding the archihypaspistes’ eyes— Bagoas.

 

— The King’s eunuch?! –the archihypaspistes exclaimed— Why?

 

— I heard Yarsa and Kyros complaining weeks ago because they thought Bagoas was planning something.

 

— Achilles, don’t get mad, but the suspicions of a eunuch and a servant are hardly more than just gossip –said the archihypaspistes— Do they have proof of this?

 

— No, and I agree with you, I would not be considering this seriously if it weren’t for the fact that Bagoas fits in all this –the Prince explained, listing with his fingers— He has access to the royal tent, he is a eunuch, which would explain the feminine handwriting and the childish behavior, and I think he may as well have a motive.

 

—  Which is?

 

The Prince’ shook his head. 

 

— There is only one thing I don’t get –he said, ignoring the other’s question— How was that Bagoas knew you like me?

 

— Ah! –the archihypaspistes smiled without humor— He offered to give me information about you.

 

The boy frowned.

 

— Were you asking questions about me?

 

— Yes. When I heard that Perdikkas, Ptolemy and Krateros wanted to be your erastes I wanted to know more –Seleucus explained with simplicity. 

 

— You could have just asked me –said Achilles, blushing again.

 

— Maybe…But you never told me, what, do you think, is Bagoas motive for doing all this? –asked the archihypaspistes— I mean, what could he possible gain?

 

— I am not sure but I will talk to him tomorrow –said the Prince— And I will tell you more as soon as…

 

But the Prince stopped talking in the same instant he felt Seleucus’ lips pressed against his own. Of course he had seen people kissing before, among other more explicit things, but what he felt in that moment was something he had never experienced and that crumbled all his defenses. The archihypaspistes did not want to scare him, he just left a very sweet, very tender and very brief kiss over his lips before moving away, no burning passion and savage displays of affection, just that: a kiss. The Prince’s first kiss.

 

It was hard to leave Achilles without words, and very few times in his short life he had felt this lost, with no clue of what was going on, but there he was, staring at Seleucus like an idiot, his face completely blushed and his mouth opened.

 

— I said it once but I will say it again: I like you –the archihypaspistes caressed his cheek and then the Prince stood up.

 

— I better go back to my room –it was coward for his part but Achilles had no idea of what else to do so, he just ran away.

 

The Prince had not dislike that kiss and, when he was finally able to calm down the savage beating of his heart, when he was alone in the stillness of his room he realized that, for that brief moment when he was with Seleucus, after that kiss, he had stopped thinking in Cyrus and his heart had stopped aching. 

 

XXX