Chapter 209

Glossary:

 

Archihypaspistes: Commander of the 3,000 hypaspists, later renamed Argyraspides because of their silver shields by Alexander before the Indian Campaign.

 

 

PART V

 

“Everything that has a beginning has an end”

The Matrix Revolutions

 

CHAPTER 209

 

Time has stopped before us

The sky cannot ignore us

No one can separate us

For we are all that is left

The echo bounces off me

The shadow lost beside me

There's no more need to pretend

Cause now I can begin again

(Smashing Pumpkins, The Beginning is the End is the Beginning)

 

New York, 2012

 

Zophiel was beginning to feel nervous, anxious, lost; suddenly Hephaistion had fell silent, stopping that stream of words that was the story of his life, lost in his thoughts or trapped in his memories leaving them in the most solemn silence the young Toreador had ever felt. She could hear nothing, not even the faint sounds of cars and civilization coming through the window. Nothing. The room appeared to breath in that stillness, the light curtain moving at the wind’s mercy, up and down, like the chest of a living man.

 

Should she say something? Should she stay? Leave? She twisted her hands nervously and cleared her throat. It felt so wrong to make noise there, Zophiel had the same overwhelming sensation that assailed inside a church, a peacefulness surrounded by a mysterious air of mysticism; she did not want to disrupt that unnerving quietly but found herself unable to bear it any longer.  

 

— Hephaistion? Are you all right? –the Toreador asked sweetly, a mere whisper a mortal man would have been unable to hear at all.

 

The Tzimisce was so still that he could have passed for a marble statue, sitting there like a God passing judgment over the sinful mass of humanity. He did not breath, hadn’t breath for more than 2,000 years, his skin was pale, soft, perfect; a demon and an angel, a beauty beyond words and a monster crawling in the deeps of darkness. Blood and terror but, at the same time, a tormented soul who had lost his loved one. A broken lover.

 

Zophiel approached him, trembling, stretching her hand to touch him. Touch him? Was that right? Was she allowed? She did not know, did not know what else to do but, when her fingers were so close to him, almost touching that supernatural beauty, then, he suddenly moved, making her jump and fall again on her sofa amidst a noise that appeared to resound loudly in the stillness that had fell upon them. The spell was broken and he smiled.

 

— I apologize, it was not my intension to scare you –said Hephaistion. His voice was strange, full of sadness and nostalgia, full with burden and regrets— It’s just…

 

— What? –she asked intrigued, taking a seat again in front of him. The change was evident and the Tzimisce’s expression broke her heart. How was possible that a creature as strong as Hephaistion, a God with powers beyond the imagination of mortals, could look so fragile, so lost? 

 

— All this reminisce has taken me to one of my saddest memories… By the time we left Carmania it was the month you now know as January –the Macedonian explained, clearing his throat, trying to regain his composure to hide again that myriad of emotions that could be clearly read on his face, making him mortal again, vulnerable. But failed— According to your modern historians it was the year 324 BC.

 

— Yeah, so? –Hephaistion smiled again when she did not understood his meaning.

 

She is so young –he thought with fondness and not without envy. Being young and naïve was a blessing, how many times he looked back wishing to be once again15 years old in Mieza?— Life is hard and knowledge only brings suffering…No, that’s not true, my knowledge will bring Alex back to me, I can’t give up now. 

 

— Zophiel, that January was my 32th birthday and, that year, 324 BC, was my last year alive –Hephaistion spoke softly, almost like a grandfather teaching his grandchildren, but that did not stop her from feeling a cold shiver running down her spine, like a death finger caressing her.

 

Death touched us all and left its mark on every Child of Kaine –thought Zophiel, remembering clearly her last year alive, her family, her brother, her career as opera singer and that car accident that had forced her Sire to Embrace her before time. She had no idea of what to say so, she said nothing, just looked at him in a mixture of surprise, sadness, pity and fear.

 

Every member of the Kindred of Kaine had a sad tale to tell about her or his Embrace, for all of them was a shocking experience that marked them for the rest of their no-lives, there was no easy way to trick death, for some it was worst than other, but all of them suffered a terrible pain as nothing they had felt before while the Beast was born in their hearts. Malkavians lost their sanity, their minds shattering and reality bending until it disappeared; Nosferatu watched how their bodies twisted and deformed until they became the hideous creatures that crawl in the sewers.

 

Yes, all of them had to endure the worst of all tortures but it was the price to pay to be immortal— Our last year of life is the sweetest and cruelest of memories a reminder of what was of what could it be of what would never be… —thought the Toreador, at least able to understand the Tzimisce sitting in front of her.

 

— If you want to stop…I mean, if you don’t want to tell me more I…—Zophiel tried to hold his gaze but found herself incapable. Those were the eyes of someone who had seen too much, lived too much, feel too much; to look at them was overwhelming, suffocating. How could he bear all he had lived?— I understand.

 

Hephaistion shook his head, slowly, the silky locks of his hair moving as he could command them, almost liquid, falling like a cascade of softness through his shoulder.

 

— You are a sweet creature, but I want to end my tale, I need it –he said, sure of his words— Now, more than 2,000 years later, I can truly understand that last year of my life, see thing I was unable to see then and…—he made a pause— I find so many things I would have done differently.

 

— Like what?

 

— I would have never left Alex’s side –Hephaistion answered immediately. This was something he had thought before, many times before this time; he would have loved to say he was a man with no regrets but that would be a lie. He regretted many things, some of which would forever haunt him, so many mistakes he would never be able to mend— Alex ordered me to take the baggage train, elephants and the bulk of the army from Carmania to Persepolis marching through the coast road while he and Krateros went through the mountains. I should have never agreed, I should have insisted to send Krateros to the coast road and I should have gone with Alex. I should have never gone to Ecbatana by land, leaving my King while he made the journey sailing down the Eulaios River…

 

— You had no way of knowing it was your last year alive –Zophiel tried to console him, but what could she said? He smiled again at her, understanding her concerned, feeling glad that someone like her could feel sympathy for a monster like him.

 

— I guess you are right, but still…—Hephaistion made a pause— I died in October –he continued slowly but feeling slightly better— So, I think, the best way to describe you what happened will be month by month…using your months so it won’t be confusing.

 

XXX

 

January

 

As I said we left Carmania shortly after Nearchos returned. I celebrated my 32th birthday on the coast road to Persepolis but Alex had promised me a surprise as soon as we were together again. I had a very easy journey with Aki and my brothers. Since Alexander had chosen to take the hardest road to the sacred city we decided our son would be better with me; something that, by the way, did not make him happy. He was 14 years old now, a young man who did not want to be treated like a child, besides, he newly made friend Demetrius was traveling with Ptolemy, and Ptolemy was going with Alexander, the same as Seleucus, by the way.

 

But Achilles was an obedient son and so he went with me. By the time we arrived to Persepolis Alexander had already reorganized the city and the satrapy, his purge far from being over…

 

— You think is a good idea to leave Peucetas as the new satrap? –asked Hephaistion, resting his back against the railing of the balcony. Last time they had been in Persepolis the men had plundered it, Alexander had set on fire to the palace complex and Scipio had come with a Roman delegation.

 

It was not that long and I feel as if a hundred years had passed –thought the commander, feeling the cold winter like needles in his skin but not finding the sensation unpleasant. He did not like hot days and after their journey through the desert he felt glad and bless to be able to feel cold. Persepolis had changed, it was not the same place they left years ago and little by little it was coming back to life again, but the people was still scared and regarding the invaders with suspicious— I wonder if there would be a day when they truly come to see Alex as their rightful King?   

 

Years of campaign and hardships but Persians still called Alexander “the Invader” behind his back— By the time Aki becomes King, would the Persians be still like this? No, I will work hard to see my son has not to endure the same difficulties we encounter.

 

— Peucetas can speak Persian and he has never gave me reasons to doubt of his loyalty of his capacity to govern a satrapy as important as this –answered Alexander, resting his arms on the railing at his beloved’s side.

 

— You’ll know better than me –Hephaistion threw his head back, his eyes on the ceiling of the only royal house that had survived the fire 6 years ago— Was it truly necessary to execute Oxines? 

 

— The man was incapable of even protecting Cyrus’ the Great tomb –said Alexander still angry.

 

Before arriving to Persepolis he had made a short stop at Pasargadae to pay his respects to Cyrus’ the Great tomb. He had found the place robbed and sacked, the riches, the golden coffin, finely cloths dyed in purple and expensive fabrics, the gold, the Babylonian rugs, necklaces, precious stones, scimitars, everything was gone except from a divan and the corpse. The King had ordered to torture the Magi who had the sacred duty of guarding the tomb and had issued orders to restore everything to its former glory.    

 

— Besides, many people accused Oxines of robbing temples, royal tombs and putting many Persians to death illegally –the King continued— He had to die. (1)

 

— Fine –Hephaistion kept his eyes on the ceiling, turning when he felt the King’s lips over his shoulder, making him smile— You have been very sweet with me lately –purred the commander.  

 

— India brought me many headaches –Alexander whispered against his cold skin, kissing and savoring it— I was under a lot of stress but now —he sucked his beloved’s skin— Since we came back I feel much better. 

 

— Just that?

 

— What do you mean?

 

— You are this loving with just because you are no longer under stress? –Hephaistion’s question made the King lift his head. It was pointless to lie, his beloved could read him like an open book.

 

— Phai…you scared the hell out of me at the desert –said Alexander the lover, the Alexander who could not live without him, the man who had faults and fears, not the invincible King and relentless conqueror— I truly thought I was losing you. 

 

Hephaistion closed the distance between them and rested his forehead against Alexander’s.

 

— You also scared me when the Mallians shot you –whispered his beloved— You can’t imagine how I felt, I couldn’t go to you, I couldn’t help you and I couldn’t abandon myself grief –Hephaistion closed his eyes, feeling his lover’s breath hitting his lips— You made me the second most powerful man in your army and I had to be strong when all I wanted was to take care of you as I did at Tarsus.

 

Alexander kissed him and that kiss, full with intensity and love, felt just was their first kiss.

 

— I love you –whispered the King between soft, slow kisses— I love you more than you can imagine.

 

— Not more than I do –replied Hephaistion and both laughed.

 

— Things will be different, I promise –said Alexander, kissing him one last time— Better even if they are about to change drastically.

 

Those words caught his beloved’s attention.

 

— What do you mean?

 

— I have a birthday present for you –said Alexander sounding like that boy of 14 years old who had bought a magnificent horse for his beloved at Mieza.

 

— What is it? –the commander kissed his cheek— And please don’t tell me how much it cost this present or you will force me to return it.

 

The King laughed.

 

— You’ll never change, that’s why I love you –Alexander kissed him, caressing his nose with his own— This present doesn’t have a price –he whispered, leaving a trail of kisses over Hephaistion’s face— But perhaps I am wrong to call it a present after all, its more like a favor.

 

— You are killing me, what is it? –his beloved half closed his eyes, almost purring, enjoying his kisses and the soft caress of his lips.

 

— I want to name you my Chiliarch –that successfully surprised Hephaistion. He moved away and watched the King through big round eyes. What had he said? 

 

— What? Why? –Alexander laughed and caressed his cheek, feeling his fingers throbbing, enjoying his creamy skin.

 

— Why? Because you are the only one I trust to grant him so much power –his lover spoke from the bottom of his heart— Phai, I need your help. I cannot do this alone. This Empire is too big and has equally big problems, when we got lost at the desert you know how many revolts began thinking I was dead. I need your help to pacify the Empire before going to Arabia.  

 

— Arabia? You are planning to go to Arabia? –this was the first time Hephaistion heard about this.

 

— It’s a campaign I want to undertake but I can’t do it before settling everything here –the King insisted. 

 

— Alex, before thinking in conquering more territory you should go back home and settle the situation at Pella before your mother ends killing Antipater –his beloved scolded him.

 

— But you have to admit that even if I don’t go to Arabia I still need you help –Alexander answered. Hephaistion sighed. 

 

By naming me Chiliarch he was making me, officially, the second most important man in the Empire, not just in the army. This meant that no one, except Alexander, was over me. It was a huge thing and you can very well imagine this appointment made Eumenes really happy.

 

Hephaistion closed the distance between them and kissed his lips. His lover needed him, needed his help and he was not only happy to help him he had also vowed to help his son to inherit a better place, a pacify Empire. The answer was clear. 

 

— When you put things like that, how can I refused? –Alexander smiled against his lips and surrounded his neck, kissing him again, fighting with his tongue, forcing him to open his mouth to receive him.

 

— There is one more thing I want to tell you –Hephaistion kissed him one last time, resting his hands at the sides of the King’s waist.

 

— I’m listening.

 

— Phai, if I want to be seen as the true Great King I need to marry Stateira, Darius’ elder daughter –said the King and his beloved nodded slowly. He had also thought that too, since they won the battle of Issus and the royal family fell into their hands but, at that time, Stateira was still very young. 

 

— I agree, she is a great match for you –and Hephaistion meant it. Stateira was his key to truly begin the pacification of the Persian Empire, this would calm down many of the most traditionalist Persians and the common people would see their new King as a member of the Seven Noble Families, descendants of the seven men who avenged the murder of Cambyses, and no longer as an Invader.

 

— There is more. I am thinking to arrange marriages for my officers too –said Alexander, his arms resting on his beloved’s shoulders— I want them to marry the Persian nobility to conciliate both parts. I am tired of the men’s complains regarding the inclusion of Persians in the hetairoi cavalry and I think this will help.

 

There his beloved was not so sure.

 

— I could be but…—Hephaistion sighed— Alex, men like Krateros would only take a Persian wife to please you but I don’t think they will come to care for their wives or their families or the Persians. I mean, you can try…

 

— Phai –Alexander slid his arms through his beloved’s shoulders and took his hands— I agree, they would only do it to please me but at least it will be a start.

 

He is right –the commander thought. It was worth trying. 

 

— So, who am I marrying? –he knew the King too well to think he was going to marry all his officer except his Chiliarch, he was not naïve.

 

— Drypetis.

 

And once again, up went Hephaistion’s eyebrows in surprise.

 

— But…she is…she is Darius’ daughter –he stammered.

 

— So?

 

— So, you are making me your brother-in-law –now the commander was in shock. First he was named Chiliarch, and now he was going to marry into the royal family?

 

— I told you once and I am telling you this again, I want your children to be first cousins of my children –Alexander reminded him— You gave me the most wonderful present with Aki, imagine now how would be to have more Akis.

 

Hephaistion laughed.

 

— You make this sound as if I have given birth to him –that made the King laugh too— But I get your point –he pinched Alexander’s nose.

 

Marrying a Persian Princess was definitely something it would have never cross my mind –thought the now Chiliarch— What’s mom going to say? She will be happy but, I think, also concern because I did not choose her. What kind of person is she? I just hope she will be kind, that’s all I ask, I can imagine who would be like dealing with a woman like Roxanne.

 

—So, what do you say? –the King insisted when his beloved fell silent— Do you accept to marry Drypetis?

 

— Do I have a choice? –Hephaistion meant it was a joke but he hurt Alexander’s feelings.

 

— You know perfectly well I will never force you to do something like this –answered the King dead serious— If you don’t want to marry just say it.

 

The Chiliarch fell silent for a moment, squeezing his brain to find the best way to explain himself, absently caressing his King’s hand with his thumb. Once upon a time, years ago in a kingdom far, far away called Macedonia, lived a 17 years old boy, beautiful as dawn, his skin like milk with summer impregnated in his hair, that wanted nothing more than spend his life at the side of his loved one, never sharing him with another maiden or young man, wanting to have him only for himself for that day to the last of his life.

 

But that was the dream of a teenage boy… Life is not that simple and I have to be grateful that for so many years Alex was only mine –he thought.

 

— To be honest, I don’t like the idea of you choosing my wife –said Hephaistion with all honesty— My dad married for love and he always said he would let us choose our wife —Alexander nodded.

 

— If you don’t want to marry Drypetis…—his beloved put his finger over his lips.

 

— I never said that –he smiled at the King— You are granting me a great honor, only a fool would refuse to have a Persian Princess as his bride. Besides, you need my help. If I refused to marry her it would cause you many problems with the rest of your officers, not to mention you’ll have to find Drypetis another husband, possible someone not too loyal who could very well use her to question your right to the throne. I will marry her.

 

Alexander kissed his hands.

 

— I don’t know what I did to deserve you –Hephaistion pulled his hair playfully.

 

— Exist.

 

XXX

 

— You have been in awfully quiet since we got to Persepolis –said Demetrius, lying on his back at Achilles’ side. Both boys were at the Prince’s bedroom, talking about everything and nothing, something Achilles hadn’t done since his friend Cyrus Ochus had died. But the page was right, he was very quiet, thinking more than usual since they arrived to the sacred city. 

 

— I don’t like this place –said the Prince at last. His fathers had taught him that best friends shared everything and Demetrius was becoming just that, his best friend, something that excited him not only because of his problems making friends, but also because the page was his same age and was also Macedonian. 

 

Who knows maybe I can finally find my very best friend, like dad and daddy are –and that possibility made him immensely happy.

 

— Why not? I think it’s fascinating –Demetrius stretched, crossing his arms behind his head, his dark green eyes on the magnificent ceiling of the royal residence.

 

— That’s because this is your first time here –said Achilles, remembering the fire, the screams, the looting, Xsayarsa crying and Cyrus’ fury. He did not like this place— When I came here for the first time, it was very different. 

 

The page rolled, until he was resting on his side, looking at his friend.

 

— You know? I was thinking we should do something.

 

— Something like what? 

 

— I don’t know, something, anything –Demetrius yawned— I think your problem is you are always working with the King and that’s why the gloomy attitude. You need to relax from time to time.

 

— Maybe…but its just –the Prince sighed— There is something else bothering me.

 

— What’s that? –asked a sleepy page, yawning again.

 

— Dad sent me with daddy along the cost road because he said it would be more comfortable.

 

— So?

 

— So, I don’t want to be comfortable. I need to fight, I need to be on the battlefield –said Achilles with intensity.

 

— We are 14, wait a few more years and I am sure we’ll be tired of battles –Demetrius meant that as a joke but he failed to relax his friend.

 

— You don’t get it. I will be King one day, to be a King I need to win battles, because a victorious King is a King bless by the Gods since only the Gods grant victory –the Prince explained— Only through battle you gain both power and glory and the men, especially the Macedonians, only follow a strong King, one capable of commanding from the front line in battle. Why do you think my father always takes the place at the point in a wedge charge formation? 

 

— Aki –Demetrius yawned again— I think you are the one who doesn’t get this, you are 14. The King is not dying tomorrow and you’ll have plenty of time to win a great battle –another yawn— Lets go to sleep, you worry too much.

 

Maybe he is right but…—but Achilles couldn’t stop thinking that Seleucus would have understood him better. He shook his head. He was happy having Demetrius as his friend but just that, his friend, whereas Seleucus…— But dad is so happy watching us together…Dris is right, I worry too much –he turned and closed his eyes.   

 

The Prince had no idea for how long had he been sleeping, although it had probably been for hours because, when he felt those hands over him, he could hear the change of guard, footsteps outside his door and soft voices exchanging that night’s password. At first he though he had dreamed it, that those hands had been product of his imagination but, as soon as he closed his eyes, he felt them again. 

 

— Dris? –he asked in a whisper, feeling his heart beating faster. As an answer the page kissed his cheek, embracing him from behind, moving closer, until his back was pressed against the other’s chest. Both boys were the same height but Demetrius was stronger, which made him look bigger than he really was. 

 

— I had a bad dream –murmured Demetrius half a sleep, cuddling and kissing the back of Achilles’ neck, his hands absently caressing his abdomen over the soft fabric of his sleeping tunic.

 

— Oh –that was all the Prince could say. He was uncomfortable, very uncomfortable; his friend could be very handsome, having a tanned skin he would always envied, and he could like him but not like this and Achilles certainly did not want things to change between them but…

 

But if I said something, what if he gets angry? What if he never speaks to me again? –and that thought was what kept Achilles immobile, feeling Demtrius’ sweet innocent kisses, looking for his lips.

 

XXX

 

(1) Again I have to explain. I am sure that all of you have heard that Oxines was put to death because of Bagoas who poisoned Alexander’s mind and ultimately convinced him to kill the satrap. Well, this was Curtius’ account. According to Curtius Oxines insulted Bagoas and Bagoas had him killed BUT Arrian tells the story as I related here. In this case I chose to believe Arrian who, by the way, NEVER even mentions that Bagoas existed, how’s that?