Shadow of the Sun

By Janet C. McGuire

A novel of Alexander the Great's lover and Companion, Hephaistion. "Alexander turned to face me, grin in place. For long moments it was as it used to be, sharing a look, communicating with no words. A closeness beyond all measure. He reached out and grasped my shoulder, all that he felt strong in that touch. I stared into those eyes and knew myself lost. Even as his men would follow, so would I, though I was more the fool, for I saw him clearly."

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Mar 29, 2011
• ISBN: 9781257190133

Book preview

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Time Line of Alexander the Great:

356 BC

e9781257190133_i0003.jpg Birth of Alexander III at Pella, Macedon.

355 BC

e9781257190133_i0004.jpg Birth of Cassander, son of Antipater, ruler of Macedonia after Alexander.

343 BC

e9781257190133_i0005.jpg Aristotle appointed as tutor of Alexander.

342 B C

e9781257190133_i0006.jpg Alexander meets Bucephalas, his famous stallion.

340 BC

e9781257190133_i0007.jpg Alexander was regent in Macedonia during Philip’s absence during the campaign against Byzantium.

e9781257190133_i0008.jpg Revolt of Thrace. Alexander’s first battle: he defeated them.

338 BC

e9781257190133_i0009.jpg Battle of Chaeronea. Alexander commands the cavalry. Philip now rules the Greeks.

337 BC

e9781257190133_i0010.jpg Philip marries for the second time. Alexander and Olympias in exile.

e9781257190133_i0011.jpg (Autumn) Alexander returns from exile.

336 BC

e9781257190133_i0012.jpg Murder of Kingp Philip by Pausanias, a former lover. Alexander made king.

335 BC

e9781257190133_i0013.jpg Battle of the Lyginus: Alexander defeats Triballians

e9781257190133_i0014.jpg Army crosses the Danube and establishes northern frontiers.

e9781257190133_i0015.jpg Pelium attacked. Alexander defeats the Illyrians.

e9781257190133_i0016.jpg Thebes revolts and is crushed by Alexander

334 BC

e9781257190133_i0017.jpg Alexander crosses into Persia.

e9781257190133_i0018.jpg Battle of Granicus. Persian defense army defeated.

e9781257190133_i0019.jpg Capture of Milete.

e9781257190133_i0020.jpg Capture of Halicarnassus, Persian stronghold.

333 BC

e9781257190133_i0021.jpg Campaign against Pisidians.

e9781257190133_i0022.jpg Alexander cuts Gordian knot (March)

e9781257190133_i0023.jpg Army leaves Gordium. (May-July)

e9781257190133_i0024.jpg Alexander arrives at Tarsus, Cilicia. (September)

e9781257190133_i0025.jpg Battle of Issus. Persian King Darius III defeated and his family captured.

332 BC

e9781257190133_i0026.jpg Siege of Tyre. (January-August??)

e9781257190133_i0027.jpg Siege of Gaza (September-October)

e9781257190133_i0028.jpg Alexander made Pharoah in Memphis, Egypt.

331 BC

e9781257190133_i0029.jpg Oracle of Siwa confirms divinity of Alexander (Winter)

e9781257190133_i0030.jpg Creation of Alexandria, Egypt.

e9781257190133_i0031.jpg Return to Phoenicia.

e9781257190133_i0032.jpg Battle of Gaugamela, final defeat of Darius III

e9781257190133_i0033.jpg Entrance of Alexander into Babylon. (Oct.21)

e9781257190133_i0034.jpg Alexander leaves Babylon (Nov.25)

e9781257190133_i0035.jpg Arrival at Susa. (Dec.15)

e9781257190133_i0036.jpg Campaign against the Uxians.

330 BC

e9781257190133_i0037.jpg Army forces its way through Persian gates. Last Persian defense defeated.

e9781257190133_i0038.jpg Rest in Persepolis. (Five months)

e9781257190133_i0039.jpg Mardian campaign.

e9781257190133_i0040.jpg Battle of Megalopolis.

e9781257190133_i0041.jpg Alexander burns Persepolis.

e9781257190133_i0042.jpg Revolt of Satibarzanes.

e9781257190133_i0043.jpg Conspiracy of the Pages.

329 BC

e9781257190133_i0044.jpg Battle of the laxartes, defeat of the Scythians.

e9781257190133_i0045.jpg Army crosses Hindu Kush into Central Asia.

328 BC

e9781257190133_i0046.jpg Surrender of the ruler of Chorasmians.

e9781257190133_i0047.jpg Army has to divide into five to fight rebellions in Central Asia.

e9781257190133_i0048.jpg Defeat of rebel Spitamenes.

e9781257190133_i0049.jpg Alexander kills his own general, Cleitus, during a brawl.

327 BC

e9781257190133_i0050.jpg Capture of Sogdian Rock, surrender of rebels.

e9781257190133_i0051.jpg Marriage to Roxane, daughter of Bactrian noble, Oxyartes.

e9781257190133_i0052.jpg Invasion of India (Summer)

326 BC

e9781257190133_i0053.jpg Siege of Massaga.

e9781257190133_i0054.jpg Capture of Rock of Aomus.

e9781257190133_i0055.jpg Battle of Hydaspes, defeat of King Porus.

e9781257190133_i0056.jpg Death of Bucephalas.

e9781257190133_i0057.jpg Mutiny at river Hyphasis. Alexander concedes and the army turns for home. (September)

e9781257190133_i0058.jpg Voyage down the Indus. (November)

e9781257190133_i0059.jpg Mallian campaign. Alexander’s lung pieced with arrow. (December)

325 BC

e9781257190133_i0060.jpg Alexander reaches Indian Ocean. (July) e9781257190133_i0061.jpg March through Gedrosian desert. e9781257190133_i0062.jpg Alexander arrives in Pura, capital of Gedrosia.

324 BC

e9781257190133_i0063.jpg Punishment and execution of Persian satraps who abused power in Alexander’s absence.

e9781257190133_i0064.jpg Mass wedding at Susa. (February)

e9781257190133_i0065.jpg Death of Hephaistion. (October)

323 BC

e9781257190133_i0066.jpg Alexander returns to Babylon. (April)

e9781257190133_i0067.jpg Funeral of Hephaistion. (May)

e9781257190133_i0068.jpg Alexander dies after 10 days of illness. (June 10)

1

330BC: (First Mutiny)

I sat silent, fingers clenched upon the reins, my mask firmly in place. The cheering was deafening, striking me with almost physical force and it was all I could do not to flinch from its strength.

I watched the men’s faces, the coldness growing within me. His words were powerful, calling to their loyalty, calming their fears. All their well placed arguments, all their valid concerns, their need to turn for home, submerged beneath his charm.

My gaze became unfocussed, blank, my thoughts turning inwards. The chill within told me things I wished I could refute.

I would never see home again.

That possibility had always been present. Death was always close, always watching coldly for its chance, but this, somehow, was different. Before it had been my own choice.

I considered things with cold, clear calm.

I could leave, return to my father’s lands. For just a moment, a weak moment, I let my thoughts linger on this possibility. To be home with my horses, far from this strange land. To not have to lift my sword each day, not have to march further into hostile places.

To know peace…

The cheers rose again, though I had missed the words that prompted them.

He turned to face me, grin in place.

For long moments it was as it used to be, sharing a look, communicating with no words. A closeness beyond all measure. He reached out and grasped my shoulder, all that he felt strong in that touch.

I stared into those eyes and knew myself lost.

Even as his men would continue to follow, so would I, though I was more the fool, for I saw him clearly…

2

340BC:

The sun beat down through the screen of olive leaves and I closed my eyes, letting all about me slide into blissful oblivion. The voices of the other boys faded into meaningless sounds and I sighed once, deep and low, the sound full of satisfaction.

For once in my seventeen years I felt content, calm. For once I had shown my worth, had shone brighter than my companions. I mulled on that for a moment, then smiled. I had not truly realized how much it bothered me that I was always in the shadow of others.

It was a good thing to know, to understand about one’s self.

A throat cleared nearby and I cracked one eye open, smiling at Aristotle ruefully.

He shook his head at me, though his eyes twinkled.

You did well this morning.

I sat up then, nodded without speaking.

He laughed then, clapping me on the shoulder fondly.

Never an extra word with you. At least you accept your success? His voice held a question.

I shrugged uncomfortably. The subject interests me as it does not the others; that is all.

He sat beside me then, cross-legged and comfortable.

There fell a pleasant silence between us for long moments as he stared into the distance, his expression thoughtful.

I think that your skills will come in more useful than you can imagine.

I stared at him, then smiled, shook my head. Tell my father that. He despairs that I can do no better at arms. He says that such failure will cast me from the Companions.

Aristotle grimaced. Your father is harsh. You are a good fighter, but surrounded by extraordinary ones.

I laughed. He thinks not. His son is being difficult.

He watched my expression. This does not hurt, his attitude?

I returned his look. I can not change it, therefore I must accept it. My eyes clouded. I am not what he wants. I can not bring the glory he so wishes for.

I think that glory will find you, if you continue with Alexander.

My breath caught, held for a moment before resuming. He indeed will find glory, but not with me.

My teacher turned to face me fully, a tinge of disbelief in his eyes.

He loves you completely. Why would you think otherwise?

For now, I am what he needs. There will be many others when he becomes king. Others who are better warriors.

Kings need more than just warriors. The King may give the orders, but he needs those who will see them done. His brows rose with slight mischief. You keep him closer to practical things, for always he wants to fly!

I laughed, for a better description of Alexander would be difficult to find.

He will need you, always. His tone held a hint of prophecy.

As if the topic conjured him, I heard stirrings amongst the other boys, a hint of anticipation in the air. I did not look over my shoulder, for I knew of his coming, a brightness within my soul, a sense of completeness that I felt at no other time.

He greeted others with a laugh, sank down beside me with unconscious grace, his hand falling upon the back of my neck with possessive familiarity.

So, did I not tell you so, my teacher? Alexander’s eyes shone with pride.

Aristotle nodded solemnly. You were indeed correct in this.

His eyes fell upon me with a smile in their depths. Hephaistion showed his worth this day.

Alexander clapped my back, laughing at my discomfort at such praise. Such things as supplies are hardly my interest, but Hephaistion revels in such things. He loves numbers and figures, planning and organization.

My lips thinned just faintly. Why did such praise make me sound boring, unwarrior-like? I should be grateful that he thought my skills worthy of note, and yet… Sometimes I felt as though he said such things to placate my pride, make me feel worthy of my place at his side.

Hephaistion has strength in many things. His mind sees the practical, the necessities. Alexander grinned, his happy mood lightening my own. Thank the Gods, for I love my food!

One of the other teachers called, and Alexander sprang to his feet with his usual energy, striding off with his distinctive walk.

I stared after him for a moment, sighed as I met the jealous frowns of several of the newer boys. Turning away, I met Aristotle’s thoughtful eyes.

The gods have not given you an easy road… His words were slow and considered.

I looked at him without speaking, waiting for his usual insight into matters. If one stayed silent, a person could glean much this way. Aristotle’s words were worth waiting for. Daily I thanked the King for his foresight in securing the services of this man in the teaching of the Prince. Whatever may come in the future, I would ever be grateful for the opportunity to sit at this man’s feet and listen to his philosophies.

You are a thinker, Hephaistion, something that may or may not aid you in your position. Ever will you question, see things differently than many around you. It will bring you into much conflict with others, even as it has for me. They will not understand you or your thoughts. He paused. You have a gift, however. You have great empathy, an ability to sense the emotions of those around you. I have watched you develop abilities in this direction even here. You have stepped into conflicts, resolved disputes without even thinking of it, and despite the attitudes of many here, they have listened, obeyed. That is, indeed, a gift. He paused, smiled a little. You are adult in your manner and thoughts, far more so than others, including Alexander himself.

I pulled a corner of my mouth down in rejection. I would rather be like the others, conscious only of the moment, happy in mere comradeship.

Aristotle smiled again, gently, not mocking my wishes. The gods gift us what we need, not what we want. Their plans for us are rarely easy. He laid a comforting hand upon my shoulder. Your path with Alexander will be a difficult one. He paused, meeting my eyes squarely. He will never let you go, Hephaistion. He needs you too much.

I did not refute his words, but I did not believe them either. Always at the back of my mind was the belief that some day Alexander would grow beyond me and though I would grieve his loss, I would not miss the jealousy and malice that met me at every turn as others sought my position for themselves.

What would it be like when he was King? THAT thought made me shudder.

Alexander was quiet that night; he lay holding me in silence, his thoughts far away. This was the only time he was at peace, the only time his restless soul could be content. I never asked whether this was unique to our relationship, for he bedded others I knew. There was no jealousy within me for this; indeed it was a sign of his care that I was the only one he stayed with. A stable relationship was rare enough amongst the men, much less the boys; I did not expect more than this.

My eyes began to close against their will and I was almost asleep when I felt his hand stroke back the hair at my temple.

Hephaistion. No more than that, low voiced but with great feeling, the tone conveying the strength of his love.

I smiled, turned to him sleepily, then frowned, concerned.

In the light of the single candle still burning, I could see his brows were drawn together as they were when he was most worried, his eyes clouded.

I rose to one elbow, striving to push my own exhaustion aside.

What is it?

I have been called home.

I drew breath, fighting to keep my expression calm. Gods, no… Here at school we had some form of freedom; at the palace his parents would be constantly at him; demanding this and that.

His mother….

I was fully convinced that she was no woman at all, but a living form of Medusa, complete with the madness and evil.

She hated me fully as much as I hated her. So many things she had tried on the path to separating Alexander and I, even attempting to seduce me. I shuddered at the mere thought, and Alexander watched my expression, troubled.

He was well aware of my revulsion towards his mother and how much I hated being anywhere near her.

I thought I would go first, find out what is needed, what excuse she has come up with this time. His words were slow, almost tentative, completely unlike him.

I tensed ever so slightly, my thoughts of the day coming back full force. Was this the prelude to the end of us?

My tone therefore was slightly stiff with all the emotions I withheld. Alexander often said that I was impossible to read when I so chose and I was determined that he would have no hint of what I was now thinking.

That seems a good idea… The words hung between us, potent with all that was not said.

He was silent for long moments and I did not attempt to speak, caught in my own fears.

I will send for you…when the time is right. Again his tone was odd, and I had the strong impression that he did not think he would be returning here, to the school. He knew something then, something he was not telling me.

I nodded, that was all, laid back down with my mask firmly in place, the one that I showed the world when it sought to harm me.

I had never thought that the need to use it with Alexander would arise.

The messenger rode into the courtyard on a lathered horse and my head snapped up from my writings as it had each time such a stranger had arrived. My naïve belief that I could be parted from Alexander and not feel devastated had long since been destroyed.

The ache within me would not fade, but no one, except perhaps Aristotle, knew. There had been much speculation when Alexander had first left, and that curiosity and maliciousness had only grown as time had passed and still no summons had come for me.

I could hear the whispers and gossip, the smug satisfaction that I had apparently been abandoned, forgotten.

Never a hint of my feelings escaped; try as they might they could glean nothing from my expression, cold as marble, blank as any carving. I gave blessings to the gods for such an ability.

Activity ceased as others watched the messenger speak with one of our teachers, who then gestured towards me.

I stood slowly, heart pounding, seeing Aristotle approaching from the corner of my eye.

The messenger came before me, holding out a rolled message in silence. I took it almost reluctantly, vaguely amazed that my fingers stayed steady. There fell a great silence about me as I unrolled it, my eyes slowly following the written words.

My face hardened, lips thinning and I looked up at the messenger abruptly.

I will come, now. Tell the servants to have my horse ready immediately. The man nodded, his face registering a faint shock at my sudden forcefulness.

My eyes swung to Aristotle. My mother has fallen ill. I must return home.

His hand fell upon my shoulder, squeezed gently. You will not be returning here, will you, Hephaistion?" His voice was pitched for my ears only.

As ever, I was amazed by his ability to read me so easily.

I nodded. It is time and past time for me to leave here. The deep breath I took then betrayed me to one as astute as he. My eyes met his squarely. There is nothing here for me now and I need to find other roads.

He nodded, came to help me as I hurriedly went to my room to gather my things. When we stood once more in the courtyard, he hugged me, an unusual sentiment for him and an indication of great favor that would have the other students grinding their teeth no doubt.

I thrust away the familiar bitterness and returned the affection, fighting back unmanly tears. Aristotle was one of the few people who saw me clearly, not merely as Alexander’s lover. He had become friend as much as teacher and his deep insight into people and his philosophies into life itself would always be an important part of me.

Mounting my horse seemed to take great effort. I sat silent for long moments, casting a last look round, then I saluted Aristotle and laid heels to my mount.

My mother’s messenger and I traveled hard all that day, slept by the roadside for a brief period before setting off again. It took two more days before we arrived, exhausted and dusty, at my father’s house.

I half fell from my mount, for the pace had been brutal and I feared what I would find upon my arrival.

One of our servants came running, an older man who had been with us long before I had been born.

My lord! Thank the gods! We did not think you could come and your father gone on campaign and….

I raised a hand to halt the flow of panicked words.

Take me to her.

He nodded, slightly calmer now that my presence became real, his responsibility less. We entered the cool shade of the house and I heard the murmur of servants increase as they took note of my presence. My mother’s room lay in the south wing and I entered slowly, swallowing with difficulty as I saw her ladies weeping. They stopped abruptly as they saw me, rose from her bedside immediately, bowing to me as they passed.

I stood frozen for long moments, thinking that, after all, I was too late. A small hand rose weakly, held out to me, and I found breath again. Kneeling by her side, I took that tiny hand, frail now as I had never seen it, laid a kiss upon the palm.

Her other hand came to rest upon my head, stroking the curls of my hair with loving fingers as she had done when I was small.

My son, she whispered, her voice frighteningly faint. I am grateful that you came; I did not think it possible.

I laid a loving hand on her cheek, stroking the soft skin, trying to still the trembling of my fingers. I would come from Hades itself if you should call me.

Her mouth curved then, a brief shadow of the beautiful smile she had always gifted me, before her eyes shifted past me, searching…

A faint frown appeared on her brow. Alexander is not with you?

I fought to keep my expression level. He had to return to the palace or he would have been here. He cares greatly for you.

Her eyes searched mine, concern in their depths. She said nothing, though I think that she discerned my inner pain. I had never been able to hide much from her.

Give him my love, when you see him again. There was no doubt in her tone that I would, indeed, see him. Her breath caught in pain and my whole body became taut with distress, fighting to keep calm.

It weakened her that little bit more and her voice was slightly fainter when she could again speak. Her fingers cradled my cheek.

Never forget who you are, Hephaistion, never let others make you less than you can be. Your blood through me goes straight as an arrow to a long line of Mycenaean princes, of heroes. Be proud of that.

Her eyes held me captive. Never forget that in blood, you are equally as great as Alexander, his equal, not his servant.

I nodded, biting my lip against tears. I in no way wanted to distress her. My grief, my emotions were for later. This was her time, not mine.

I am proud to be your son, have always been so. My voice was amazingly steady. I would have come sooner, had I known…

She laid a finger on my lips to halt my guilty words. I did not call you for I did not want you to see me thus. Her body shrank in upon itself with another onslaught, sweat breaking out upon her brow.

I wrapped my arms about her, helpless, laying my cheek upon her hair, my eyes blank with grief I dared not give rein to. Not yet, not yet.

Neither one of us mentioned my father.

Through that long night I held her, though my arms ached and my eyes were gritty with exhaustion I would not admit to. We murmured to each other, reliving memories, even laughing every now and then at past joys.

As dawn approached I could feel her slipping away from me and I held her more tightly, as though I could somehow defy the will of the gods.

I laid my lips upon her forehead even as she sighed my name, then her breath caught, hesitated, then ceased altogether.

There was nothing in me that could accept it. I sat, motionless, staring into nothingness and eventually her ladies came, gently pried my arms from her, led me from the room.

I did not look back, for my mother was gone from this place. I was alone, very alone.

We buried her, as she had wished, though my father had planned for her to have a funeral pyre.

My lips thinned grimly. He was not here to argue the point and I would have her will done.

I had learned; since my arrival here; that the King, Philip, had left with his army and Companions, leaving Alexander in charge.

How this information had been kept from me at the school, I did not know, but the rumors circulated here that Alexander himself, though only sixteen, had led men to quell an uprising that had occurred during his father’s absence.

That, more than anything else, told me that my fears had indeed come true… His first command, his first assault, and I was not there. I did not bother to send word of my mother’s death; I had no conviction that it would even matter to him. I had sent a message to my father, but my bitter heart knew that it would mean little to him.

Despair almost overwhelmed me then and I spent all my time with the horses.

My father’s horses were known all over the Greek states and far into other countries, and they were my first love. As a child I had been fearless in their presence, even as they had been careful and gentle in mine. Even the most fractious seemed calm in my care.

My father had considered this a great gift in his son and had been most proud.

Perhaps the first and only time he had ever felt that particular emotion towards me and showed it.

On this particular day, I walked into the farthest field, taking the time to renew an old friendship. The horses there were older, but still fine in their form. Upon my arrival their heads rose, nostrils drinking in my scent and the largest of them; a dark grey stallion; bugled a welcome, trotting in my direction with great strides that shook the ground.

Greetings, old man, I whispered in his ear as he nuzzled me, seeking treats and attention. I smiled for the first time in far too long, presented an apple which was instantly swept off my palm and joyfully consumed. I worked at his mane, pulling out burrs and twigs, working my fingers through old knots.

Baynar, sire of Bucephalas, Alexander’s precious stallion…

He finished the apple, making little whickers of joy deep in his throat as he anxiously snuffled me all over as though discerning that I was in one piece.

His concern touched something deep inside, something that had been frozen since my mother’s death, rejecting all the concern of the household and my relatives. With them there had only been the mask that kept me safe.

With Baynar I felt grief well up within me, stronger and stronger, until it burst from my lips in a cry of pain that echoed over the hills. Nerveless, I fell to my knees, put my face in my hands as I wept; wept for all I had lost; my mother, Alexander, the hopes and dreams I had once held at his side.

All that was gone and I knew not what lay ahead for me. It was doubtful that Alexander would call upon me when he was King and forming his Companions. It would be far too uncomfortable for both of us.

I wept myself dry, until I lay on the grass and stared blankly at the sky, numb, drained of all emotion, even grief.

Baynar made little sounds of distress, nuzzling, snorting, finally laying down beside me as if to protect my prone body.

I smiled through the drying tears, turned to lay an arm about the massive neck, putting my cheek against the soft gray hide. A great calm fell upon me then and I slept, dreamt of great things, great deeds that floated past my mind’s eye in a glorious procession, a great adventure that would make even my father proud…

e9781257190133_i0069.jpg

As the day drew to a close, I rose and began the walk back to the house and my responsibilities. Baynar walked at my side, protective, free as always. No tether did he need, for he would not leave me.

We reached the hill that overlooked my home and I paused there, frowning, for strange horses stood in the courtyard, heads hanging with exhaustion.

The calm I had gained began to unravel as I slowly walked down the steep slope. Servants came from the house, pointing up the hill at me and several ran back inside. Moments later strangers appeared, standing with hands on hips, as though impatient.

Obviously they had been kept waiting.

As I got closer, I faintly recognized one of Alexander’s cousins, one that I had had little dealings with.

My stomach clenched with tension, for I could not imagine why they might be here at this time. I stopped at the edge of the courtyard, coming no closer, one hand on Baynar’s shoulder.

Amyntas, as I now remembered his name to be, came forward, a subtle arrogance in his stride. That arrogance faded somewhat when he came before me and realized that I stood nearly a hands-width taller than he and broader in the shoulder.

Inwardly, I smiled grimly. It would be well that he realized that I was no child now. I was older than Alexander by a year and now, at seventeen, stood taller than most, perhaps the most visible sign of my heritage. For now my muscles were lean with youth, but beginning to show signs of growth.

I would not be a small man.

My mask firmly in place, I faced him without speaking, waiting. My silence and outer calm seemed to annoy him for he frowned then, perhaps angered that I made him seem short.

We have come for you. His words were curt, with no mention of my name, as though I might be servant or slave.

My brows rose at his tone, my gaze sweeping his form with insulting brevity as though I knew him not.

You would be…?

His eyes widened with anger, his nostrils flaring for brief moments.

I am Amyntas, Alexander’s closest cousin. The emphasis on their relationship was anything but subtle.

My thoughtful frown indicated that I did not remember him and his anger deepened. Gesturing peremptorily he turned away.

We leave immediately, for we wish to make good time back.

I did not move. Why have you come?

He turned back, contempt in every line of his body. Why Alexander has sent for you, of course. Jealousy lay behind those words.

Again my brows rose. You should have sent word then, rather than coming yourself, for I cannot leave.

His jaw dropped for brief moments before he got hold of his disbelief. The Prince bids you come, now.

My eyes held his, calm and cold. I am not able to come at this moment. My mother has just died and I mourn her. There are affairs to attend to and harvest soon. I must tend my father’s lands in his absence. Tell Alexander that I will come at the first of winter, should he still wish it.

He was speechless for long moments, as were his men. They stared at me as though I had sprouted another head.

The Prince has given an order and we shall see it done! Amyntas’s anger rose and he reached for me…

Only to stumble back in panic as huge teeth reached for him, a stallion’s scream echoing back from the buildings. Amyntas cried out in fear as Baynar lunged at him, ears laid flat, huge hooves striking at him.

His men drew swords in their commander’s defense, only to stop in confusion as I spoke gentle words, laid a restraining hand on the stallion’s neck.

Immediately the ears flicked forward, the viciousness disappearing as if by magic and Baynar stood motionless as though he had never moved.

Amyntas’s jaw clenched in fury and he drew his sword as though he would slay the stallion.

I would not think such an action would endear you to Alexander, for this is Bucephalas’s sire and much beloved of the Prince. My voice was cold and hard.

They stared in sudden awe, for Baynar was well known of, the protectiveness and loyalty of the line the stuff of legend.

They came no closer then, but glared at me, frustrated.

The Prince has given orders. You will come.

I stared back at them, unmoved. I will not. You have discharged your duty as best you could. Let his anger fall upon my head, but I will not abandon my current responsibilities.

In the end, they could do little else but leave, pure fury on their faces, in their actions, as they whipped their exhausted horses into a run. I stood silent and still, watching their departure, not moving even after the dust had settled about me and they had disappeared into the distance.

The servants watched from doorways, awe in their expressions at my sheer temerity in sending away representatives of the Prince.

I turned my back, quietly led Baynar to the stables to brush him down and trim his hooves.

There was no sleep for me that night. I lay with my hands behind my head, staring into darkness. Now that I could look at things clearly, I could scarce believe my own boldness.

I had never seen Alexander thwarted at anything, by anyone. Even the teachers at the school had been wary of denying his wishes.

Normally happy natured, if intense, the least hint of insult could bring that intimidating frown to the fore, the expression that people blanched at, backed away from.

I had defied him.

Never before had I done this. Always I had gone along with his wishes, for they usually were in line with my own ideas, or at least not counter to them.

This was the first time we had been at odds and I had no idea how he would react. His mother would be poisoning his mind, no doubt. The idea of me in chains, disgraced, reviled; that would much please her.

It would please many.

I shut my eyes at memory and worry and rolled to my side, seeking solace in sleep.

3

The harvest went well and I found myself feeling a certain satisfaction in my work. I had aided my father in this before, but doing it by myself seemed so different.

I was in charge, my decisions were important to those around me. It was heady, yet sobering.

My father would have nothing to complain of, at least in this matter. No doubt he would find other things I had done wrong, but not this.

Dusty and sweat-stained, I wiped my arm across my eyes, blinking at the sting. I walked back beside my father’s secretary, absently listening to his reports, longing only to have a swim in the river before the evening meal.

We turned the corner into the courtyard and froze.

It was full to bursting with men and horses. My hand went instinctively to my hip, to a dagger that was not there.

At my entrance, faces turned in my direction and silence fell.

My eyes swept them, coming to rest on one of the servants, who nervously held Baynar, bridled and ready to go.

My body went stiff with tension and confusion.

A man came forth and I recognized him with a certain amount of relief. Theopides, one of Philip’s captains under Parmenian.

He came before me, taking in my filthy state with raised brows. Saying nothing yet, he gestured another man forward, who approached and bowed to me.

Alexander has sent this man to oversee your father’s lands so that you might come to court.

I stared at him in shock. That is kind of him, but…

This is a direct order Hephaistion, not a request. Theopides was kind in that he did not speak so that others could hear, but softly, so that the words were for me only.

I paled, jaw clenching. My chin rose just slightly as I met his eyes.

You come to arrest me then… I was pleased with the steady tone of my voice.

The Prince has sent us as your escort. He wishes you to arrive safely. There was no inflection in Theopides’s voice but I thought I saw a glint of sympathy in the depths of his eyes, though I might have been mistaken. I could think of no reason that this man should care one way or the other about me.

I took a deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts enough to act. I must gather my things, bathe…

He shook his head, gestured to a packhorse. We have already packed what we thought you might need. Anything else can be sent for later. We leave, now.

Inwardly sympathetic he might be, but it was clear that he would follow his orders to the letter.

Ï nodded, curtly, for what else was I to do? Alexander had made quite sure I had no choice.

Walking stiffly, jaw clenched, I made my way to Baynar, laying a hand on his nose as he nuzzled my shoulder. His love gave me strength. I turned to my father’s secretary, giving quiet instructions and accepting that Alexander’s replacement would have temporary rule, though I asked that the secretary himself should send me word of how things were being handled.

The old man nodded, worry etched deep in the lines of his face as he stared at the armed men that sat their horses in silence, waiting.

Take care, young lord. The gods bless you.

Ï gripped his shoulder for a moment, then nodded. Grasping Baynar’s mane, I swung to his back, gathering his reins into my hands. Nodding grimly to the assembled servants, I turned the stallion to follow Theopides’s mounted figure.

I was never to see the home of my birth again.

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We rode all through the night, had a brief rest stop for the horses in the morning, mounted up to start it all again.

That night we did stop for a good meal and a brief sleep.

I sat staring into the flames of the fire, morose thoughts chasing themselves about my mind. The food they passed to me seemed tasteless and I ate little, unable to choke it down past the lump in my throat.

Hiding my thoughts took all the energy I had and I felt drained, numb with all the fears within.

Theopides sank down beside me, plate in hand. He began to eat with the enthusiasm of the hungry man and there were no words between us until he had finished. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he laid the plate down and glanced at me, encouraging speech.

My voice sounded stiff. Did Alexander order this, or the Queen? This, above all things, plagued my mind. If this was by Olympias’s hand, I was indeed doomed, for she would like nothing better than my downfall.

His look sharpened; he knew what I meant by my question and why. He was too old a soldier at court not to know all the complexities of life under royal rule.

He was silent for long moments, feeding my fears.

"The Queen is furious that you have been recalled by the Prince. They have fought about the matter; that I do know.