CHAPTER 204

 

What do you know about the Gedrosian desert and our march through it? That it was a long march? Full with mortal perils? That many men died? Yes, but, what else?…Well, to begin with Gedrosia was a Persian satrapy, located in what you know today as Baluchistan, a region split between 2 countries: Iran and Pakistan. It is basically an arid, very arid, and mountainous place where the temperature can easily exceed 40ºC, especially on the south, in the region called Makran. The south borders with the Arabian Sea (which we thought was the Ocean) and, as ironically as it sounds, it is also in the Makran where the desert lies.

 

This desert is truly, and without exaggeration, a branch of hell on the earth. Blazing heat and no water to drink, miles and miles of never-ending rock, sand and dust. You never find one single cloud on the sky, always that immense blue and the sun, beating us without mercy, like the inclement whip of a master over his slaves. Alexander’s idea was to have the troops marching along the coast to have both, his land forces and his fleet in the same place. It had sense but then, why did he choose this route? Why to cross the same desert that claimed the lives of Queen Semiramis’ men, the same desert that almost swallowed Cyrus the Great and his troops?

 

First, because Alex wanted to prove that he could do what Queen Semiramis and Cyrus the Great had not been able to, that is to cross the desert with all his men and reach Pura, the capital of this satrapy, victorious. Second, because he needed to be well supply and this could only be achieve having the fleet at hand. Third, Alex needed to find a viable trade route between India and the Euphrates and, the fourth, because this was the quickest way back to Persia.

 

At this point, so far at the south of the Indus River, it was not a choice to go back and march back through Ambhi’s territory, the fastest way back was this. Trust me.

 

What? You also heard that Alex chose this route to make his men pay for the mutiny and their reluctance to keep following him? Well, I just have one thing to say about this: do you think that, if that were his purpose, he would have taken me with him? Let me ask this differently, do you think he would have gone in person to command this expedition, sharing the hardships of his men, if he wanted merely to punish them? Or, do you think the men, who were no longer in the best mood to follow their King wherever he wanted to go, would not have mutiny if they did not know this was the best way back?

 

There is your answer.

 

Alexander knew perfectly well how hard was going to be the march before us, he knew what lie ahead because one of the things that always assured his success in this campaign was his intelligence department. He always knew where he was going and, precisely because of this, he sent Achilles, along with Chrysaor, Yarsa and Atash, with Nearchos and the fleet. My son was too fragile and we both feared, truly feared, he would not survive this. And time showed use that we indeed took the right decision.  

 

Hephaistion covered a rock with his cloak, amazed to find his hands trembling so badly, and, while trying to sit on it, he collapsed, his legs no longer able to sustain him. He had suffered hardships before in this campaign, since he left Macedonia, he had been thirst on his way to the Cilician Gates, he had been tired and his feet had shown blisters and bled before; he had taken part in long night marches, he had been lost, cold and hungry. Yes, Hephaistion had endured much and, 9 years of campaign made him think he was ready for anything.

 

He was wrong.

 

58 days –this heat was like nothing he had felt before, unbearable, merciless, like hot irons constantly press against his body. It cooked his brain and burned his skin, the sand and rocks like lava, so hot that more than one had suffered severe burns by accident—And there is no water –his tired dark gray eyes tried to focus on the front but he couldn’t. Sandy brown and blue, all the same, always the same, no mattered where he turned. It was a sea of sandy brown and soon he had to close his eyes, the colors appearing to play tricks on his mind, the heat waves driving him crazy— But, this was not Alex’s plan.

 

Of course not! The King could appear to be crazy sometimes but he was no fool. The plan was to have the fleet following them by sea, never losing the cost line, assuring this way they would be well supplied at all times. The plan was to have the nearby satraps sending them food and water. The plan was no more. They were forced to go inland, the coastline took them father inside and the fleet was no-where to be seen. Where was Nearchos? Had he betrayed them?   

 

Alex thinks he did but, if this is the case, what happened to Aki? Where is my son? Nearchos, did you kill my boy, threw him overboard and decided to let your King and his men die here?—he opened his eyes and the world appeared to spin around— 58 days –thought Hephaistion. His mind seemed to be numbed, his thoughts moved slowly, like a snail trying to climb a tree. The headache, his most trustworthy companion now, had not left him in peace since the water supplies ran out, it was like having a war drum inside, beating drum, drum, drum, never stopping— A never ending hangover.

 

The commander was dizzy, had been dizzy for hours now, reason why he decided to sat down– I will rest for a moment…just a moment –his lips were dry and cracked but Hephaistion did not complain. He was alive. A lot of men had died of heatstroke or dehydration— 58 days, we have been here for 58 days…—it was hell. No food, no rest from the sun, except at night and, during night the cold was atrocious. They were forced to cover great distance once the sun went down, which was stressing because, night marches played tricks on the men’s nerves, making them jump at the slightest sound— It will be over soon. It has too…—sounds became distant, colors appeared to melt in a whirlwind of shades that only worsen his dizziness.  

 

— Phai! –Alexander shouted, running at his side, raising the sand at each step, and catching him before he fell on the ground— Phai, Phai –he shook his beloved, kissing his cheek. Hephaistion’s back resting languidly against his chest— Phai, open your eyes; please, don’t scare me like this, my love.

 

The King cursed, lifting his uneven eyes to the sky, almost challenging the Gods. They had no water, no water at all, not even for him and, when the men had found a little and presented it to him, he had discarded it, letting the precious liquid to be swallowed by the burning sands. If his men had no water to drink, he would not drink. He did not regret his action but regretted not having something to give to his beloved.  

 

When they were forced to march inland, at first, were able to get supplies but, since they were not plenty, Alexander had put his personal seal upon the provisions and had distributed them among his baggage trains with strict orders of not distributing food without his personal consent. But, when rations became smaller and smaller, and hungry became unbearable, his men disobeyed, broke his seals and, against his direct orders, ate the supplies.

 

Nothing had prepared them for this trial, no living creature should ever know this suffering. “The blazing heat and the lack of water caused innumerable casualties, especially among the animals, most of which died from thirst or from the effects of the deep, burning, sunbaked sand. Sometimes they met with lofty hills of sand, loose, deep sand, into which they sank as if were mud or untrodden snow; sometimes, climbing or descending, the mules and horses suffered even greater distress from the uneven and treacherous surface of the track.” (1)

 

This was a mistake –thought Alexander— I should have never come to this place —he had lost more than just lives in this journey, discipline was fading as the situation worsen. He had began the march with 85, 000 men, a large number of this were noncombatants, camp followers, women, children, and many had died— I bring them to die here but I saved my own son –he felt guilty but knew he and Hephaistion had taken the right decision, Achilles would have never survived this— And he is my heir, he has to survive.

 

His men had started to kill the pack animals without permission to eat their flesh every time the supplies ran out. It was a crime to do it but since almost the entire army was involved the only thing Alexander could do was to feign ignorance. The rest of the animals died during a terrible storm. It had rained a week ago but, instead of being a blessing, it became a curse. The strong current sweep away the camp followers, the pack animals, even the royal tent, and the men who survived only managed to safe a few of their possessions. 

 

— Why are you smiling? –had asked Hephaistion that terrible day when he found his brother, holding the little of what was left of his dashing equipment. Both brothers had their hair plastered against their faces, covered in sand and mud, damped and tired.

 

— Because I did the right thing when I asked Aki to take my girls with him–Nikandros laughed— Vashti wanted to come with me, she doesn’t trust me.

 

— I’m not surprise to hear that.

 

— Ares’ balls! I thought I was exaggerating but now…—the smiled abandoned the lochagos, watching the devastation, mothers wailing with excruciating pain when they found their dead children, half buried on the mud; others wandering like lost spirits looking for their families. Nikandros nodded— I did the right thing. 

 

If Nearchos did not betray us, if Aki and your girls are fine, then, we did the right thing. But, what if it not? –but Hephaistion had no heart to fill his brother with such dreadful thoughts. So, he said nothing at all. 

 

But that tragedy did not end there, that was not the worst part. The worst came when the men, who had suffered a terrible thirst for days, drank avidly from the rainwater. This proved fatal to them as the King saw later. Nobody knew that, when a person is dehydrated, drinking so much water after days with no water at all, caused nausea, which made them vomit, which made them lose more liquid, which ultimately killed them. From that day on, Alexander had a strict control over the water, whenever they found it, distributing among the men only the necessary.

 

Many had died and not only women and children. Alexander had been forced to leave behind his wounded, the men exhausted or suffering from heatstroke. He was incapable of taking them with the rest of what was left of his army because the wagons were continually broken and he no longer had pack animals. If a man could not walk, he had to be left behind. It was hard but it had to be done.

 

Yes, he had lost a lot but he was not ready to lose Hephaistion too; he would not become a sacrifice to the burning sands— Not my beloved, not him –Alexander thought stubbornly, checking Hephaistion’s body for wounds or something, resting his lips against his forehead to feel his temperature.   

 

His beloved was not sweating, his skin was dangerously dry and his lips, those wonderful lips that could make him sigh like a schoolgirl, were swollen—Heatstroke –the King knew at once, he had seen the same symptoms in the past days and he panicked, knowing perfectly well how this ended.

 

— Please Phai, just a little longer, we are close to the district of Pura –Alexander caressed his forehead and kissed his hair. Hephaistion was dangerously hot.

 

His guards and officers began to notice something was happening, muttering among them, turning and pointing. The few members of the Agema still with him were not sure of what to do, was the King ill? They had few doctors left and they were not in better conditions than their patients, should they call them?— This is no good –thought the King. The last thing he wanted was to start the rumor that he was ill, or worst, that Hephaistion could not walk.       

 

He no longer had horses, not even mules, all the animals, absolutely all of them, were death. The wagons had finally been abandoned and, as if the situation could not get worst, it did. A day before a sand storm had hit them, erasing all their footprints and leaving them in the middle of an ocean of sand not knowing where to go. Alexander was at the verge of a panic attack— Is there no way out of this spiral of calamities? 

 

He was sure Nearchos and the satraps were conspiring against him, they planned to let him die here and then divide his empire among them. Oh, treacherous bastards! After all he had done for them! What else could explain the sudden disappearance of the fleet? What else could explain that his satraps, starting with Apollophanes, the satrap of Gedrosia, had failed to come to his rescue with supplies? Alexander was the most powerful man of the known world and was alone.

 

Please, my love. Don’t leave me –his own orders demanded that, if Hephaistion could not walk, he would have to be left behind, but that was absolutely out of question so…

 

— Sire! Sire! What are you doing? –Eumenes came stumbling over the sand, when he saw the unbelievable sight of his King carrying the commander on his back.

 

Ever since Alexander set fire to his tent the royal secretary approached him with utmost caution, as if he were a hungry lion waiting only to eat him, he talked to the King the barely necessary but, this! They were trapped in the desert and, if there was someone who could get them out of this hell, that was Alexander. Of course that, in order to do it, they needed the King in perfect conditions, not carrying the commander.

 

Just as Hephaistion had said, since Harpalos was no longer sending them money Alexander had been forced to do the same as he did when the campaign began, meaning to borrow from his friends. The King had asked his secretary for money, just before embarking in this adventure through the desert, but Eumenes…

 

— I am very sorry, sire –had said the secretary that night at the bank of the Indus, while preparations were made for the fleet. They could hear shouts and orders barked, urging the men to hurry. Footsteps running from one place to another and mules helping to bring the supplies into the ships— But, I am afraid I cannot dispose of 300 talents in this moment, maybe just 100 talents.  

 

Alexander saw him in utterly silence for so long that Eumenes began to sweat cold. They heard a curse with such clarity as if the man were standing in the middle of the room with them and the rude laughter of his companions. 

 

— 100 talents? –said the King, barely moving his lips. He could have been very well a statue of Alexander because, thanks to the capricious shadows, appeared as if he had talked with his mouth shut.

 

— Y-yes, sire –his secretary felt cold sweat running down his spine.

 

— When I asked commander Hephaistion for 300 talents, he gave me not only what I asked, he gave all he had –said Alexander, far, very far, from being happy with Eumenes. For days he had been hearing his secretary complaining about Achilles and this, this was testing his patience beyond safety limits.

 

— Well, obviously Hephaistion is a wealthy man –he said not without contempt, pursing his extremely thin lips.

 

— 100 talents –the King repeated slowly, weighing every word, as if giving the man in front of him a chance to reconsider.

 

— Well, maybe…if I look, perhaps, 102 talents –and the vein popped out. Alexander said nothing and dismissed Eumenes feeling a cold fury rising inside of him.

 

This was more than his patience could bear.

 

Before his secretary could reach his tent, the King set it on fire, literally, a big bonfire in the middle of the camp. Even if it was a childish thing to do, not to mention that many records and documents of the expedition were lost this way, Hephaistion could not find it in him to scold his lover because, the sight of the secretary hysterically trying to save his things was really comical. At the end Alexander did not only get 300 talents, he found 1000 and Eumenes had no other choice but to give them to his King.

 

— Sire, you cannot do this, you will exhaust yourself –the secretary insisted, watching in complete horror how Alexander pretended to continue the march with his unconscious lover on his back— You gave the order yourself, any man who cannot walk would be left behind and…

 

The King turned and one look told Eumenes to close his mouth. That look in his eyes! It was the night his tent became a bonfire all over again.   

 

— I hope you are not trying to tell that I should leave Hephaistion, my soul mate and other half, here to die –his voice was dangerous. He swallowed.

 

— N-n-no, of course not.

 

— Good.

 

Alexander did not care if he had to carry Hephaistion all the way to Pura, did not care about the heat, his hunger, his thirst, his beloved’s life was all that mattered. And he kept walking.

 

— Sire, please, let me do this –said a man from the Agema, running to catch him when it became clear what was the King planning to do— I can carry the commander.

 

But Alexander shook his head, never stopping.

 

— You have my gratitude, Crathis, but this is something I have to do –the man was going to insist but, one look at his sovereign’s face and he closed his mouth. He was determined.

 

Hephaistion was taller than him and heavier, even if 58 days here had thinned him considerable. To carry him through this conditions over such treacherous sand was the ultimate love proof, but Alexander never complained, not once, and did not ask anyone for help, not even when Nikandros or Lysanias offered to carry their brother he acceded. His beloved was his responsibility, only his– My guides say we are close to Pura, just a little longer my love, just a little longer…

 

XXX

 

He was furious, he could not remember if before this night he had been this furious and all Hephaistion could think, was to leave. Leave as fast as he could, he couldn’t stand this place or the people there. Was he running away? Maybe. But he did not care.

 

— Phai! Please stop, let me explain –Alexander followed him all the way to the parking lot, running to catch him, but his beloved was too angry to listen. The only thing Hephaistion wanted to do was to reach his car and go. Where? He did not care as long as it were far from the blond or he would risk breaking his neck as the throbbing fury was dictating him to do— PHAI! –his voice echoed in the underground parking lot.

 

Alexander strode and grabbed his arm.

 

— WHAT?! –Hephaistion turned, looking like wild beast, his eyes with a dangerous glint that took his lover aback.

 

— Let me explain…

 

— Explain what? You made everything perfectly clear when you started to shout in the middle of the party. What are you going to explain? Tell me! What kind of crazy, reckless fool I am? Or how is that I am a completely nobody without you? –Hephaistion never raised his voice but this time he was beyond himself and, without noticing, he was shouting.

 

Until 30 minutes ago, they had been celebrating Alexander return from his trip to India. Since the band was taking a break, the blond had decided to go to India for 3 months, while his beloved finished his new book, and had had a very interesting time with a strange and peculiar group of philosophers called Gymnosophists.

 

The party had been great, the blond had told them all about these men who were called naked philosophers because, well, they were naked as a statement of their rejection to material possessions and had devoted an important amount of time to a man called Kalanus, whose real name was Sphines, and the very shocking tale of how this man had immolated himself. Kalanus had offered prayers, sprinkled himself and, after casting some of his hair upon a pyre, he ascended it, greeted his audience, and exhorted them to make that day one of pleasure and revelry.

 

The mysterious and exciting part of this tale was when Kalanus, speaking directly to Alexander, had said: “We’ll meet again in Babylon” and after this words wrapped in a veiled of mysticism, he had lay down and patiently waited for the fire to consume him.

 

Yes, everything had gone well with the party until Hephaistion had a very violent argument with Krateros, which ended in blows, and had ended when Alexander yelled at him. That had been more than Hephaistion could bear.

 

— Phai, Krateros is my friend and you beat the hell out of him –the blond tried to explain in a conciliatory voice that only served to infuriate him even more. 

 

— He insulted me! –they were alone in the parking lot of the hotel but, even if there had been a crowd around, Hephaistion would not have cared— What do you want me to do? Stay calm while that brute accused me of sleeping with all my friends?  

 

— What does it matter? We know it’s not true –that was the worst thing Alexander could have said.

 

— What does it matter?! First, you humiliate me in front of all our friends and, now, you don’t care if Krateros insults me? –his beloved began to walk again.

 

— Phai, be reasonable –Hephaistion forced a humorless laugh and turned again.

 

— Reasonable? –he could not believe the blond’s words— You kissed Julius, married Roxanne, had a son with her…

 

— The baby did not survive…

 

— That is not the point! –Hephaistion was seeing red again, his anger throbbing at his temples— The point is you left her pregnant, the point is you can do whatever you want because I always end forgiving you. Well, I have news for you: I’m tired of this game.

 

Finally, he reached his car but, when he tried to open the door, Alexander did not let him, pushed it back and rested his hand on it.

 

— What do you mean tired? –the blond wanted to know and his beloved puffed his cheeks out. 

 

— You don’t know what ‘tired’ means? Get a dictionary –again he tried to open his car’s door and was incapable. Alexander would not move away. 

 

— I get it, I was wrong, ok? I should not have yelled at you, I am sorry, are you happy now? –Hephaistion looked at him as if he did not know the blond.

 

— I am very far from being happy –he answered in a cold voice— And, if you cannot understand why I am tired, then this whole conversation is pointless. Now, MOVE away.

 

— I will not until you answer my question –again Alexander was starting to lose his patience— Why do you say you are tired?

 

— Why? I will tell you why. I cannot invite Publius to my own house because you don’t like him, I cannot spend the night in my editor’s office without having you calling every 5 minutes to ask what are we doing. You went as far as to put a GPS to my car to know where I go –by now Hephaistion was shouting again— I am sick of your insane jealousy! If I had married Roxanne you would have killed her with your bare hands and, what I did? I supported you! If I had appeared on the cover of a magazine kissing Publius you would have destroyed the house in an outburst of fury, and what I did? I forgave you. 

 

— You made me beg you! –Alexander reproached him, now he too was angry.

 

— What did you expect? You kiss your bloody manager! You can kiss your bloody manager but I can’t stay late at my editor’s office –Hephaistion was panting.  

 

— I thought you love me, I thought you forgave me and supported me because you love me not because you had to do it –Alexander reproached him in a hurtful tone of voice that made his beloved feel as if someone were pulling his hair. Now the blond was the victim? 

 

— I love you.

 

— You don’t sound so sure now.

 

— Now you are questioning my feelings? –Hephaistion could not believe what was he hearing— So, almighty Alexander knows better than I what do I feel.

 

— I am no fool, Hephaistion.

 

— Really? Because you don’t seem too smart tonight –the blond’s vein popped out.

 

— What is it? Why are you really mad? Is because of Scipio? Is that?

 

— Are you out of your mind or just suffering Alzheimer to forget what you just said in the middle of that party? –he pointed at the hotel with his arm—‘You are nothing without me,’ what the hell does that suppose to mean?

 

— Oh, come on! Its obvious that, of the 2 of us, I am the most famous and what you did, beating my friend into a pulp, is going to be tomorrow on the front page of every newspaper –Alexander answered without thinking and up went Hephaistion eyebrows in utterly disbelief.

 

— And that is what worries you the most? What are the people going to say? Is that more important than I? –said his beloved— You are an arrogant jerk! –he pushed Alexander but, when the blond did not move, he punched him, successfully breaking his nose. 

 

Hephaistion left behind Alexander cursing and drove to his brother’s house.

 

XXX

 

(1) Arrian. The Campaigns of Alexander, p 336