CHAPTER 82

 

The morning sun bathed the place, making Alexander’s path an easier one; but not even those warm rays of light were a comfort to him. He hadn’t said a word since Achilles and him ran away from the fortress. The boy rested on his back, he had decided to carry him in order to move faster; the ground was rugged and in total darkness it was difficult to take care of Achilles. It was better this way.

 

All the way, the boy coughed until he threw up; his allergies were going to be his end one day and, the fortress with its surroundings, had all that was bad for him: some of the plants that caused him allergy, moisture and dust. Before the sunrise, Achilles started to breath normally and had fallen asleep half and hour ago. The King couldn’t be more grateful for this.

 

But Alexander wasn’t in better conditions: he was tired, his feet and knees hurt terrible after running all the way down the mountain with Achilles on his back, and, judging by the burn he felt, some blisters must had formed in the soles of his feet and burst at some point in the march. But he didn’t care. In fact, he was grateful to be able to feel pain, to feel cold, to feel tiredness, to feel hunger…to feel other things besides the excruciating pain that was oppressing his heart.

 

He had left his soul mate, his other half, in that horrible fortress of nightmare, half dead, with terrible wounds in a pool of his own blood. That image had tormented him the whole night, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself that he had done the right thing, he asked over and over again if he could have done something more…should he go back? How many times had he thought about going back? The rational part of his brain told him that, as long as Hephaistion was alive, there was hope, that Darius had ordered his and Achilles’ execution but he was going to spare his beloved’s life…

 

But…what if Darius had changed his mind? What if after their escape he had decided to executed Hephaistion? He should had never left him, it had been a mistake…

 

There wasn’t other choice.

 

There was always another choice, he had demonstrated that countless times; battle after battle when others said it was impossible, he always proved them wrong…

 

But not even he could always win.

 

Maybe if he had dragged his friend, if they had hidden in the brushes and climb down the mountain, slowly, under the cover of darkness…

 

Melkar would have found the 3 of them, the Carthaginian wasn’t a fool and he knew this place better than them. Besides, Hephaistion’s wounds would have killed him before they could reach a safe place.

 

It’s true –thought Alexander, feeling the urge to shout and cursed with all his energy—Even if Melkar couldn’t find us, Phai’s wounds would have killed him…I have ran all night and still, I can’t say I have reach a place where I can rest.

 

It was hard for the King to accept it, but, for once his legendary luck, the one that had accompanied him through his life, the one who had arranged his path to reach everlasting glory, had deserted him.

 

He had never had so many doubts in his life, he always knew what he wanted and how he was going to obtain it…but this night had proved him that he was still a mortal man, because a God would have been able to rescue Hephaistion.

 

Hephaistion…

 

Alexander shook his head. What was he doing? Crying and whining like an old woman? This wasn’t like him, this wasn’t the man Hephaistion loved and for whom he had risked his life. That shattered and helpless lover was left behind in the mountain, the moment the King reached a dirt road, he was once again the Macedonian Lion, and his agile mind began to think in a solution.

 

After a while, he reached a small hidden place, at the side of the road, surrounded by trees with a small water fountain; maybe a place where travelers could rest. It was winter and the water was freezing but at least it wasn’t frozen; even if the sun had appeared an hour ago, it was still very cold.

 

He left Achilles on the grass and the boy curled up, trembling. Alexander cursed again, he had no cloak; in fact he was grateful that Melkar’s men had left him his sandals, not like Hephaistion…He caressed the boy’s head, as a silent apology for not being able to do more for him.

 

The King bent over the fountain and cupped his hand to drink some water. His body was grateful to receive some liquid, even if it was freezing, he sat on the grass and took off his sandals; he hadn’t realized how tired he was until he sat down, all his muscles appeared to scream at the same time. Alexander sighed. He was right: blisters, and it didn’t look good; but he had no time for them now. He took a deep breath and started to think what to do. 

   

He had a slightly idea of where they were. The King closed his eyes, remembering what had happened. The kidnappers had caught them at the beach after a short struggle, Eurycliedes had died protecting them and 3 men had defeated the King, knocked him out and taken he and Achilles on their horses. He still had no idea how these men had managed to infiltrate the Macedonian camp, but made a mental note to investigate that as soon as he came back.

 

When he regained consciousness, he was in darkness; his head had been covered with a cloth but judging by the sounds and the shape of the terrain, now that he could look at it with daylight, he thought they were still inside Syria.

 

We can’t be far from Tyre –thought Alexander—Even if I was unconscious, I can tell the march to the fortress didn’t took more than a day, and Phai arrived a day after we were captured. These are good news, I only need to know in what direction is Tyre and walk back…A horse would be great, but I don’t think I can get one. 

 

- Dad? –he opened his eyes and found Achilles sitting at his side; he forced a smile.

 

- I thought you were going to sleep all morning –the boy shook his head.

 

- I’m cold –the King stopped smiling and embraced him. The boy rested the head on his chest and immediately curled up against him.

 

They fell silent, but Alexander kept thinking he should tell Achilles something about what had happened at the fortress, explain something…but he couldn’t voice it, not yet.

 

- Dad? What is going to happen to daddy?

 

The King thought in many possible answers but he chose the truth. If he were Achilles, he would like to hear the truth.

 

- Darius said he was going to sell him as…a slave –that had been more difficult than he had imagined.

 

- Why?

 

Excellent question. The boy always knew how to make the correct question with the most complicated answer.

 

- Do you remember that Hephaistion, grandpa Demetrios, Kyros and you went to the Persian camp as spies? –Achilles moved his head up and down—Well, Darius is very angry because Hephaistion tricked him and wants revenge.

 

The boy took a moment to think about this. He understood the situation better than many people would have thought, that was part of his charm, maybe he didn’t knew many things about the world but, his capacity to understand his surrounding was amazing.

 

- What are we going to do now? –Achilles lifted his head to see the King. 

 

- First, go back to the camp, then start looking for…

 

Alexander stopped talking in the moment he heard noise near them. His instincts made him move his hand looking for his sword, and stood up in front of Achilles, ready to act in case Melkar’s men had found them; but, instead he found 2 young girls. The girls saw him, he saw them, and they started to scream. A group of 2 young men, 2 strong and big men and a middle age man came running with swords ready.

 

- Don’t move thief! –ordered the older man in Persian. Alexander didn’t understand a word, but seeing the newcomers’ weapons, he kept his attack position.

 

- We are not thieves –said Achilles in Persian, catching the King’s attention. He didn’t know the boy could speak Persian—We are lost.  

 

The older man saw then with distrust, they truly looked horrible, covered in mud, with their chitons tore, pale and Alexander wounded on the head. They looked like beggars or runaway prisoners, but the King’s eyes spoke louder than everything else. No, they were no beggars and the man decided to give them the benefit of the doubt. 

 

XXX

 

- So, you are Macedonians. You shouldn’t wander around here without guards, these roads used to be safe, but since the war began nothing is the same –said the older man, named Jishtay, the only one in the group who spoke a little Greek and a little Egyptian thanks to his business, he bought and sold cotton.

 

After that very awkward encounter Alexander and Achilles had managed to explain that they had been attacked by a group of thieves and were lost and trying to get back to Tyre. Without knowing, they had said the magic words; Jishtay was allergic to thieves and immediately felt sympathy for that young man and his son. Now, they were sharing the Persians’ breakfast in their makeshift camp

 

- Thanks for the advice –said Alexander, gratefully taking a piece of bread that Jishtay’s wife gave them—Are you heading to Egypt?

 

- That’s right! Soon it would be cotton season –said Jishtay smiling—My whole family, as you can see, travels with me: wife, sons, daughters, cousins… we all are in the cotton business. You are a soldier?

 

- No, I’m an engineer in the Macedonian King’s army –lied Alexander, even if Jishtay and his family appeared to be good people he didn’t want to take risks. 

 

- You look like a soldier –observed Jishtay, scratching his beard— Are you heading back to the Macedonian camp?

 

- Yes, I need to get back to Tyre –answered the King, smiling his first sincere smile since they had been captured, when he saw Achilles happily eating.  

 

- Then, it’s your lucky day –said Jishtay with enthusiasm—I can take you to Tyre, and you can help us in case we encounter thieves –he didn’t say it but, for Alexander was obvious that he traveled with a lot of money—I presume you can use a sword.

 

- Yes.

 

- Then it’s all settle.

 

XXX

 

Hanon was a man of 43 years old, not too tall and very fat, proof of his good fortune and silent witness that he was a man of excesses who never knew the meaning of the word: moderation. He came from Carthage, the same as Melkar, in fact, they had met there years ago; they weren’t friends, because Melkar trusted no one and he usually scared the living hell out of people, but, every now and then, they do favors to each other. 

 

Hanon ran many businesses, but his most prolific was as a slave trader; and he was Melkar’s first option when the Great King decided to sell Hephaistion. Melkar rode all the way to Gaza with Hephaistion and a small group of his most trusted men, and ordered his personal doctor to take care of the Macedonian’s wounds, threatening the poor man with cutting his hands if Hephaistion died. So, a very scared doctor took exceptional care of his patience on the small wagon where they were traveling, without daring to do as much as close his eyes the whole night.

 

They reached Gaza almost at night, after traveling during the day. Darius’ secretary, Danush, was with them, to see that his master’s orders were followed.

 

- Bloody Macedonians! –one of Melkar’s men spat at the side of the wagon—If it weren’t for them, we could have gone to Sidon or Tyre.

 

His companions nodded their silent agreement. Since almost all the costal cities were in Macedonian hands, they had had to take the longest route. Gaza was a very ancient city that had been conquered by Cambyses I, the father of Cyrus the Great, almost 200 years ago, and since that time, had been under the control of the Persians. So far, Gaza was still under the Great King’s jurisdiction, control by a man named Batis; but, for what Melkar saw, the place was full with Arab mercenaries, probably Batis was expecting an attack as soon as the Macedonian King finished, or got tired, in Tyre.

 

That has sense –thought the Carthaginian. So far the invader’s strategy had been to take all the cities on the coast, to cut the Persian communication with the Aegean, and Gaza was a very important city to be ignored.  

 

Hanon wasn’t here, he was returning from Egypt when Melkar’s messenger found him, and he had sent word that he would arrive at dawn.   

 

- You! –said Melkar to one of his men—Help the doctor to take our guest to a room, close the windows and take at least 2 guards to watch him.

 

- Yes, my lord –answered the man. He, and the rest of his companions, thought their master was exaggerating. Hephaistion was half dead, and was no threat, but since Alexander’s escape, the Carthaginian had been in a terrible mood and they decided to obey at once without saying a word.

 

Melkar had a house here, he went to his room and filled a cup with wine while his men carried his orders. He still had no idea of how was that Hephaistion could help the Macedonian King to escape, because he had no doubts that this had been his doing. Darius and his men thought the Macedonian King had escaped leaving his lover behind, but the Carthaginian knew better.

 

The Great King had been furious when he discovered that Alexander was gone; and even if they sent a party to look for him and the child, they couldn’t find them. For Melkar this was Darius’ fault, he should had killed the 3 of them when he had the chance, now it was his job to ensure that Hephaistion was sold as the Great King wished. He still thought this was a terrible idea, but he was determined to get the most out of this situation, and he already had a plan.

 

Early next morning, a servant came to Melkar, informing that Hanon had arrived.

 

- You are late –said Melkar as a greeting, and the other man took a seat, his fat fingers covered in big and expensive rings, resting on his massive stomach.  

 

- The journey was long and I went to my house first to take a bath, eat something and rest before coming –Hanon explained, in the least sorry about his delay.

 

Melkar thought many things he could say, but he decided to swallow his anger, he needed Hanon. He took a seat in front of the newcomer.

 

- So, what’s the emergency? –asked Hanon, now that he had rested and was comfortably seated he was curious to know what was the hurry in talking with him.

 

- How is your business doing?

 

- Oh! –Hanon laughed happily—Extremely good now that the foreign King decided to make war at this side of the sea –when he smiled his round face looked like the one of an overgrown child—I’m thinking in going back to Carthage in a couple of days to sell my slaves, you know how difficult is to do this here –he twisted his lip.

 

Of course Melkar knew. Contrary to what the Greeks thought, Persians didn’t have too many slaves, and this thanks to Zoroastrianism, the principal, but not the only, religion of the Empire. The teachings of the prophet Zoroaster favored the cult to one universal and transcendent God: Ahura Mazda, the creator. Zoroaster taught that good thoughts, good words, and good deeds were the correct path to achieve happiness, he believed in free will and forbid slavery. Therefore, the market for slaves in Persia was very small, the Babylonians were the ones who had the largest number of slaves, and Babylon was one of the principals slaves markets in the Empire. 

 

- You called me here to ask about my business? –Hanon leaned his weight back and the chair cracked.

 

- I called you to enlarge your slave collection –said Melkar, going to the point. 

 

- Do you want to sell me slaves? –Hanon laughed—This is new, how many?

 

- Just one, a man –he said, taking the merchant by surprise.

 

- A debtor? –that was common, usually when a man couldn’t pay he was sold into slavery, and the money of the sale went to the lender.

 

- No, war prisoner, a Macedonian –Melkar lied; it was better if Hanon didn’t knew the truth.

 

Hanon nodded, scratching his chin.

 

- I want to see him first.

 

- Of course –Melkar stood up and took him to Hephaistion’s room.

 

Hanon could be many things but he wasn’t stupid, and the heavily guarded door immediately caught his attention.

 

- Is he dangerous? –he asked with apprehension.

 

Melkar smiled and the merchant wished he hadn’t.

 

- No, it’s just a precaution, although he is a gifted warrior –he explained in an almost sweet voice. 

 

They entered the room and found the doctor sitting at the bed’s side, dozing, and Hephaistion sleeping face down.

 

- How is he? –asked Melkar, and the doctor jumped on his feet when he heard his patron’s voice.

 

- Better –said the sleepy doctor—I gave him something to rest.

 

Melkar nodded and the merchant approached the bed.

 

- Oh, by Baal! Are you sure he is Macedonian? –asked Hanon in disbelief.

 

- Yes.

 

- But…he is beautiful –the merchant bent over, the best way his overgrown stomach let him, and took Hephaistion’s hair, caressing it—I have sold some Macedonians before, and almost all of them were brutes, but this…has he all his teeth? 

 

- Yes, and in perfect condition, you can check if you want –said Melkar, his arms crossed, when Darius’ secretary arrived.

 

- Oh Baal! –Hanon so excited that he almost jumped like a small child—How much do you want for him?

 

- Since we know each other for so long, how about 10 minae? –said Melkar.

 

- 5 –answered the merchant at once.

 

- 8.

 

- 7.

 

- Done –said Melkar, and Danush, Darius’ secretary saw him frowning.

 

Melkar knew what was he thinking, that he should have gave Hephaistion as a gift, but, if he did that, Hanon would start suspecting that something fishy was behind this. It was better this way. 

 

- Why is he wounded? –asked Hanon.

 

- I had to whip him –said Melkar with simplicity—He tried to escape.

 

Hanon shook his head.

 

- You are a brute –he said. His small dark eyes following Hephaistion’s silhouette—You don’t whip a beauty like this…it would mark his skin –Hanon caressed one of the Macedonian’s legs—And what skin! I’m paying only 6 minae because of the whipping. 

 

- Fine –Melkar sighed—When are you leaving to Carthage? 

 

- As I said, in a couple of days –the merchant reminded him, his eyes still on the Macedonian.

 

- Sail tonight.

 

- Tonight! –Hanon was scandalized, and turned to see him—I can’t go tonight, I have…

 

- Did you know that the Macedonian army is besieging Tyre? –that made the merchant roared in laughter.

 

- Besieging…–he laughed again, and couldn’t stop for a while.

 

- As ridiculous as it sounds this could make things difficult for you –said Melkar, successfully catching his attention—I heard the Macedonian King is calling his fleet, and Tyre is not far from here –that was also a lie, but he wanted Hephaistion far from there as soon as possible, he knew Alexander was planning something.

 

Hanon scratched his chin.

 

- All right, I’ll see what I can do.

 

- Excellent, I’ll tell my men to give you a hand.

 

XXX

 

- Why do you want to take the prisoner to Carthage? –asked Danush when Hanon was gone.

 

Melkar didn’t like to explain his actions but, he knew it was a bad idea to ill treat Darius’ secretary.

 

- Because the barbarian King is going to try to rescue him –he said after a moment, walking to the hallway—At first I thought in sending Hephaistion to Bactria’s silver mines, this way he would never be a threat again but…the barbarian King’s escape made me change my mind –the Carthaginian stopped, looking through his window—Bactria is far from here, but Alexander could rescue him before he even reach the mines.

 

- But that is insane! –said Danush, shaking his head—This barbarian doesn’t know our lands and roads, and how was he going to know that his lover was heading to Bactria?

 

- I don’t know how to explain it –said Melkar in a dangerous tone, he was tired of the secretary—But Alexander is a man to fear…Besides, in Persia are so few slave markets that it would take the Macedonian King one morning to know the scarce places where Hephaistion could be. No, it’s safer this way, Hanon will sell him in Carthage, hopefully to a Numidian King, a Hispanian or, even better, a Roman. The barbarian King is…besieging Tyre, he can’t go so far across the Mediterranean to look for his lover, he has no fleet and Carthage is out of his influence zone.

 

Melkar smiled, his horrible smile, and the secretary swallowed. He didn’t like this man, and was very grateful that Hanon was leaving with Hephaistion that same day, so he could go back to Darius’ side.

 

XXX

 

- Hurry! You fools! I want to be on my way tonight not next month –said Hanon angry, walking around the ship’s deck while his men loaded the cargo, his personal slave was behind him with a feather fan to scare the mosquitoes.

 

Two men carried Hephaistion on a stretcher to take him onboard. He was half asleep half awake, he didn’t know what was going on around him, and the pain of his back was so intense that didn’t let him think correctly.

 

Not far from where Hanon was shouting orders, Paltibaal, one of the Sidonian brothers with whom Hephaistion had stayed, was checking one of his biremes. Apparently one of his ships had suffered a terrible damage because of a storm, and his older brother had sent him here to check what had happened. Paltibaal was tired of hearing Hanon’s hysterical shouts, he was going to ask who was he when he saw the stretcher. His heart skipped a beat when his eyes settled on Hephaistion, recognizing him immediately; how wouldn’t he? He couldn’t stop thinking in the Macedonian, dreaming about him. But, what was he doing here?

 

- Who is the owner of that ship? –asked Paltibaal, to the captain of his ship.

 

The captain saw the ship, the name Tanit painted at its side, and nodded.

 

- It’s Hanon’s ship, sir –said the man.

 

- Who is Hanon?

 

- A Carthaginian, slave trader.

 

Slave trader? Paltibaal didn’t like this.

 

- Do you know where is he going? –he insisted.

 

The captain narrowed his eyes to see the ship more carefully.

 

- I have no idea, but judging for what I see, it’s a long trip –he said—Maybe Carthage, I heard Hanon travels a lot to his hometown.  

 

But…why is Hephaistion with him? –thought Paltibaal.

 

XXX