Alexander watched Brandor as they approached the Glaucini village. He had been born to be chief, and now he had his chance. At a time when his own future was uncertain, he envied Brandor. Even Galadrian now happily followed him.

He reminded himself that this was not what he wanted. He wanted to lead the Macedonian army, not an Illyrian tribe. He closed his eyes and saw himself on the training ground, saw his father grin over at him and even in this image he felt himself grinning back, the love of war...of battle, in both of them.

He opened his eyes and turned the javelin in his hand and looked for Hephaistion. He was already in the distance, moving away through the trees. They would be opposite each other when the fighting began. He would be flanked by Perdiccas and Seleucus, while Hephaistion would have Brandor and Ptolemy on each side.

Bucephalus stomped his hoof, wanting to be moving, but Alexander waited, needing to give the others time to form their circle. The forest would not conceal them all the way, when they needed to break cover, then they would pick up the pace to get into position.

His eyes fell on the village. It was early morning and there was not much activity. A few men and women went about their business, nothing else. It felt strange to be back, to watch it all from a safe distance while remembering the way they had been treated, how they had almost lost their lives. In his mind's eye he saw the altar, adorned with possessions, with skulls, and sent a prayer to Zeus for those who had not been so fortunate.

They did not intend storming into the village. They wanted the Glaucini to see their arrival, for the women and children to take shelter before the battle. Alexander knew the Therici having cavalry would be surprise enough, the women and children could be sold as slaves, bringing more wealth and ridding this land of a hostile tribe.

Hearing the sound of muffled hooves upon the snow, he saw Brandor lead his men out at the gallop, Hephaistion following then with his small troop, then Ptolemy. Nodding to Perdiccas and Seleucus they made their move, well rehearsed they circled the village, hearing cries go up, seeing men rushing from the hall, swords in hand, looking around, wiping at their faces as if they did not believe their eyes.

There was a moment of silence, then the men of the Glaucini began to shout, some challenged, some laughed, no doubt believing themselves invincible. They would think that the Therici would dismount and rush into battle - they had a surprise coming.

Brandor gave a war cry. The horses sprang into a canter, then a gallop as they went on the attack.

OOXXOO

Hephaistion urged his men forward, joining them in a war cry of their own, pleased to see the Glaucini's scatter as they realised the fighting force coming down, like an avalanche, before them, their confidence shattering as the Therici charged into their village. They hesitated and several of them died because of it, they ran and that also brought death.

It would be no easy victory though, the Glaucini outnumbered the Therici. After the initial shock of the cavalry charge they began to fight back, though there was a desperation, and they hesitated moving forward because of the threat of the horses hooves, because their opponents could turn themselves away from danger.

Hephaistion saw several men rush towards one of his men, Argaon, attempting to pull him from his horse. For a moment the memory of his and Alexander's capture came to mind. He pushed Briseis forward, spearing two of the men, urging Argaon to use his horse to break free. As he did, Hephaistion felt his chiton grabbed, he urged Briseis forward once more, turning to see who held him, shocked as he saw Ajax grinning up at him.

Ajax grabbed for the javelin, snatching it from Hephaistion's grip, pulling him from Briseis and clutching him by the throat. Some of the Glaucini rushed to finish the job, but Ajax roared at them in Illyrian. "He's mine!"

OOXXOO

Ptolemy never felt fear before a battle. He always supposed it was because he believed in the fates - that the way of his death had long since been decided. What was the good in fearing something that he had no power to change?

In the middle of battle he would feel a certain joy flow through him, all else forgotten, just kill or be killed. He knew Alexander felt the same, they had often talked of it.

The Glaucini were actually choosing not to attack him, he had killed a few, one he had sacrificed his javelin to, and he now fought with his sword in his hand, more in support of his men than in defence of his life. He laughed to see the Glaucini run as he approached them.

Looking to his right, he saw Briseis. He pulled his own horse round and galloped forward, his eyes searching through the battle. At last he saw Hephaistion, being dragged along by a giant of a man, the equal of Talis. They were heading for the hall. The giant was calling men to him, to defend him.

Ptolemy gave a cry, dismounting as soon as he was near. He wanted to call some of the Therici to him, but he had been unconcerned about learning much of their language, so he was on his own.

Hephaistion had been taken into the hall, dragged and pulled there. Ptolemy fought his way through, rushing inside, his eyes unable to see at first as they grew accustomed to the gloom, after the sunlight outside. As he ran forward he felt a blow across his head, stunning him. He dropped his sword and another blow came, knocking him to the ground where he lay still, unable to fight.

OOXXOO

Hephaistion fought with all his strength against Ajax, but he was a like a child in his grip and Ajax held him easily.

Ajax spoke, saying he was meant for the god, that a sacrifice now could give them victory, it was not too late. They had angered their god for delaying, that was all. He turned to some of the men with him, telling them to go and fetch the golden-haired one.

Hephaistion struggled again, his chiton twisting in Ajax's grip. He hit out, kicked and threatened as Ajax called the priest forward and dragged him to the altar. He could hear the fighting outside of the hall and he tried harder to resist Ajax but more men came forward to hold him, pulling at his arms, forcing him to his knees until he could not move.

He called above the priests incantation, shouting above it, telling them that if they killed him his death would be avenged, that a god more powerful than theirs would kill them all. He hoped to delay the priest, flinching back as the man laid his hands upon him, spitting at Ajax as the man ripped away the top part of his chiton.

Ajax yelled, uttering curses of his own saying they had no time to waste, to get the sacrifice done so that their god would grant them victory over the Therici.

The priest hurried back to the altar, muttering the incantation faster now. He fetched the bowl with blue paste, intending to mark Hephaistion for their god once more.

OOXXOO

Ptolemy opened his eyes, for a moment having to remember where he was. His face felt wet, he remembered being hit, when he had come to rescue Hephaistion.

Lifting himself up, reaching for his sword, he saw Hephaistion held, like a sacrificial lamb, struggling to get free. A tall man in tattered robes was standing over him, holding a bowl, this man's hand went over Hephaistion's face, leaving a blue handprint, then over his heart, leaving his mark there.

Ptolemy struggled to his feet, unnoticed by the men, now entranced by the ceremony. He leaned against a table, still too stunned to stand on his own feet unsupported, but if he did not move, then Hephaistion would die.

The priest had a dagger now, he moved it through the flame of the fire, still muttering the incantation. The giant was urging him on, Hephaistion jabbed back with his elbow, hitting the giant hard in the stomach, the giant retaliated hitting Hephaistion across the head, and Ptolemy did not need to speak Illyrian to know that he was cursing him.

Ptolemy had no time to find others to help, he dared not leave but he knew he was not able to attack as he would have liked, but perhaps he could take one and give Hephaistion a little more time.

This time the priest yelled, at the giant, as the men reached for Hephaistion and pulled him upright. The giant grasped him by the neck, pulling his head back, as the priest lifted the dagger over Hephaistion's heart, his words growing stronger, just about to strike.

A javelin flew past Ptolemy's head and struck the priest, and with a cry the man went down, stopping him from using the dagger on their sacrifice.

As the javelin struck, Brandor and Talis ran past. Brandor launched into an attack on the men, while Talis took on the giant, forcing him to release Hephaistion, if he wanted to defend himself.

Ptolemy staggered forward, going to Hephaistion, pulling him clear, before falling backwards. Brandor needed help and Talis was struggling against the giant. He felt Hephaistion take his sword, then saw him go forward, slicing the sword across the giant's throat, before going to help Brandor.

It was short work, by the time Ptolemy had got to his feet again there was no-one left to kill.

Hephaistion came to him, not looking much like himself with the blue across his face. He held his hand up and inspected the injury. "You should let Alexander examine that." He looked to the door, then signalled for Brandor and Talis to follow him, just as Alexander ran in with Perdiccas right behind him.

"The battle is won," Perdiccas declared.

Alexander stared at Hephaistion, hurrying to him to check he was unharmed, noting Ptolemy's injury, he looked to the shrine. "Ajax," he said.

"It was a shock to me," Hephaistion replied. "They must have had the antidote to the poison." He walked over to Ajax's body, pulling back the tunic he wore, noting the fresh scar on his belly. "I did stab him."

"He almost stabbed you…or that priest did," Ptolemy commented.

Alexander threw his arm around Hephaistion's shoulders, pulling him to him, before leading him outside. "I left Seleucus in charge of the clearing up," he said. "And it looks like you owe Perdiccas a chiton."

EPILOGUE

The Therici's priest announced Brandor and Shanna as man and wife, and a roar of approval went up from the tribe.

The thaw had come, and green pasture now appeared from the beneath the snow. The Therici had returned to their own lands, taking the village from the Glaucini, selling those who remained into slavery, so they could never strike back.

Hephaistion held Dedra in his arms as he stood by Alexander, watching the newlyweds move amongst their people, receiving gifts, someone was singing, a man interrupted the sweet song with his own, a bawdy love song about two shy lovers going to their wedding bed. People laughed.

Looking over his shoulder, he saw Ptolemy, Seleucus and Perdiccas standing holding their horses. It had been decided for a while now, that they would leave on the day of the wedding. They had eaten well on the wedding breakfast and all that it needed now was for them to say their farewells.

Dedra wriggled in his arms and he let her down, watching her run to her mother, who stood by Argaon, looking at him with love, so Hephaistion suspected there would be another wedding soon, that Dedra would have a new father.

"I am sad you leave today," Brandor said, embracing Alexander. "Stay a little while longer, my friends."

Shanna threw her arms around Hephaistion, holding him closely for a moment, before stepping back and caressing his face. "Thank you," she said. "For all."

Hephaistion looked to Alexander. They could stay, but he knew Alexander was restless to be gone, he did not know quite where they would end up. He had talked about seeing his mother at Dodona for a few days before heading north again, wherever the road took them.

"You are my friends, and I will see you again," Alexander said, pulling Shanna to him and kissing her briefly on the lips."

"Ey!"

It was Talis, striding over, and laughing as he pushed Alexander back, acting annoyed, as if he thought Alexander was trying to steal her from Brandor. Then he held out his arms and hugged Alexander to him, lifting him up and spinning him around.

With tears in his eyes, Talis turned to Hephaistion and embraced him, holding him as if he might never let him go.

"Ey!" said Alexander, stepping forward and pushing at Talis' strong shoulders to get him to break the embrace.

Talis laughed, then wiped his eyes. "Grecons," he murmured, then embraced both Alexander and Hephaistion at the same time, kissing both their heads before releasing them.

They stepped away and went to their horses, about to leap onto them as two riders approached. They were Macedonians, Calchas and Actor, messengers from Pella, riding fine horses selected for their speed.

They hesitated at the edge of the village befor Calchas saw Alexander and pointed him out to Actor. Then they galloped forward, grinning with delight to have found him.

"You father has sent messengers out to find you, we were just saying that you would never be in a place like this...and here you are, Alexander," laughed Actor. They jumped down from their horses and hurried over to him, bowing low before him.

Hephaistion noticed the looks from the Therici, they had never said who Alexander was exactly.

"We have a message from your father," Calchas said, always the more serious of the two, eager to have his job done. "He wishes you to return to Pella, having had time to reflect, he understands now that, in some of what he said, he may have been wrong. He misses his son."

"Demaratus of Corinth," has done his work," said Perdiccas.

Brandor stepped forward. "Who is father, Alexander?" he asked, his face bemused, his eyes not leaving the well-dressed soldiers who had bowed before his friend."

Alexander grinned, then looked to Brandor. "He is Philip of Macedon, and he has asked me to come home." He looked to Hephaistion. "We are no longer exiles. What say we go home?"

Ptolemy and the others gave a cheer then leapt onto their horses, congratulating each other

"King Philip?" Brandor was asking. Then turned back to the Therici, shouting out to them, while pointing at Alexander.

"He says you are Alexander, Prince of Macedon," Hephaistion translated, bringing his hand up to rest it on Alexander's shoulder.

"What of Attalus?" Alexander asked Actor.

"Gone to Persia with Parmenion," came the reply. "I think he was getting too big for his boots, I even heard your father snap at him a time or too. You should have seen your father, Alexander, if you had then you would know how much he loves you."

Alexander smiled to hear it, travelling the distance in his mind, wanting to hear his father's voice, to have things right between them.

Brandor slapped Alexander on his upper arm, grinning at him.

"I will see you again, Brandor," he said. "Some day I might have need of cavalry."

Hephaistion jumped onto Briseis, while Alexander leaped onto Bucephalus. The Therici came forward to bid them goodbye. Dedra was held in Argaon's arms as she waved them farewell.

As the village disappeared from sight and they headed for Pella, Hephaistion reflected on the time they had spent in exile. Not so much the days spent avoiding Olympias at Dodona, but the time alone. Ptolemy and Perdiccas were too close for him to seek some comfort from Alexander. They might never be alone again.

"The nights will still be ours, Hephaistion."

Lost in his thoughts, he almost did not hear the words spoken by Alexander. Looking over at the man he loved, he realised he had been thinking the same thing. Yes, the nights would still be theirs…and some moments in-between…and the memories of the times they'd spent in Illyria, one winter, when in exile.

THE END