Part I

Hephaestion could not believe his own stupidity. More than any other of Alexander's companions he knew Olympias' temperament. He knew how vengeful and vindictive she was and also how obsessive of her son. In her mind Alexander could open his heart to no one save herself, and Hephaestion had attempted to prove the statement false. He had not meant it as an act against the queen. His only crime was in loving Alexander. An act that, to him, came as naturally as breathing.

"If anything happens to me, Alexander will look for me," Hephaestion insisted as he watched the queen pace before him. He did his best not to shudder at the sight of the snake coiling itself about her arm. "He loves me."

Olympias sneered at the comment. "My son has always been foolish about such matters. He does not yet realize its weakness."

"There is nothing weak about placing your trust in another."

"Fortunately you will not have to worry about such things any longer," the Macedonian queen informed him. "You will never see Alexander again."

He had opened his mouth to protest, but the words never passed his lips. He didn't feel the blow, but the world around him lost focus. His vision darkened at the edges, the darkness encroaching inwards as he dropped to his knees. He was fairly certain that he was going to die then. Yet, before the blackness filled his vision entirely, Hephaestion felt his arms drawn behind his back and bound with a coarse length of rope.

Then there was nothing.

It was nearly nightfall when Alexander returned to his rooms. He had spent the past three hours in the gardens waiting for Hephaestion. It was the first time in weeks that both of them were to have enjoyed an afternoon together free of obligations; just the two of them and no one else to encroach on their time. That Hephaestion had not shown worried him. Since they had returned from Mieza there was little time for them to spend together. Hephaestion had his duties to the Vanguard and Alexander increasing responsibilities from his father.

It had been easier in Mieza. There had been no pressure of responsibilities beyond those Aristotle placed upon them to learn. Alexander could not even attempt to calculate all of the time he and Hephaestion had been able to spend together, becoming closer than he had ever thought it possible for two people to be. He had always thought Hephaestion felt the same so it made no sense for him to miss their meeting.

"So heavy your shoulders seem, my son."

At the sound of his mother's voice, Alexander stiffened. There was a venom in her voice that made him instantly cautious. His mother was plotting again and meant to turn him to her side, a sure sign that her intended victim was his father.

"What are you going here, mother?"

Olympias slithered across the room to stand before him. "Is it a crime for a mother to wish to spend time with her son?"

"Then why not summon me to your rooms? Why hide in the shadows?"

"Would you have come?"

Alexander inclined his head briefly. "You are my mother."

"Something you would be wise to remember."

Without another word Olympias swept from his rooms and back to her own lair. Alexander felt a chill run through him at her silent departure. She was most definitely plotting. There was nothing unique about such things, but even so Alexander could not help but feel uneasy. He was not naïve enough to believe that his mother was without treachery. When cornered, his mother was as volatile as the snakes she surrounded herself with. Her strikes were also as lightning quick.

It was the rolling of his stomach that roused Hephaestion from his stupor. The bile began rising in his throat, gagging him. He managed to turn his head to the side, coughing and spitting out the acrid phlegm. It burned, his stomach recoiling further. As he wretched up the meager contents of his stomach, tears stung his eyes, leaking past tightly clenched lids.

Hephaestion couldn't think clearly and, what was worse, had no idea where he was. He knew that it was not the palace because wherever he was it was moving. Rocking back and forth and upsetting his stomach even more. He didn't think that he was on water and couldn't figure out whether that was in his favour or not at the moment. With Olympias as his jailor he could be bound for any number of locations. All of them far from Alexander.

His world began to lose focus over the next few hours. He would just start to get his bearings only to be pulled under once again. And each waking was exactly the same. The constant rocking in total blackness sent his stomach rolling. Hephaestion tried to call for help, but his voice was too weak for it to be effective. His voice was little more than a croak.

"Help… let me out… please…."

He thumped his elbows against the wooden surface he was lying on. It offered up no results, though, the rocking continuing unabated. Stealing himself against any further nausea, Hephaestion began to shift about in his dark prison, trying to make out its dimensions. He had to get back to Alexander. Bound hand and foot, Hephaestion was still able to make out that his current prison was little bigger than his own body. Any substantial movements and he came in contact with a wall. Enclosed places had never bothered him in the past, but still Hephaestion was sucking in deep breaths of air, filling his lungs to capacity each time.

Then he screamed.

With as much voice as he could muster, Hephaestion screamed. He didn't waste his time with words, only hoping that someone would hear him. Someone who could help him get back to Pella and to Alexander.

Hephaestion was gathering up his energy for a second scream when the rocking stopped.

Try as he did to keep his attention on the conversations around him, Alexander's mind wandered time and again to Hephaestion. It had been hours and there was still no sign of his beloved friend. As he had prepared for the evening banquet he had attempted to convince himself that Hephaestion had been detained on some business. Yet he was neither in the barracks nor the mess hall. Alexander had checked both locations himself and left word with Ptolemy that Hephaestion should come to the palace before returning there himself.

He was a prince and there was nothing he could do to appease the voice in his head that was insisting that something foul had happened to Hephaestion. Screaming quite loudly. He was helpless to do anything at the moment because the Athenian ambassadors who had arrived earlier in the week. He was a prince and had to act accordingly which mean attending the banquet his father was throwing in their honor.

"Quit looking so glum, boy. You'll give a bad impression," Philip hissed in his ear as he slumped down next to Alexander on a couch. "I need their support for Persia."

"My apologies, Father," Alexander murmured, inclining his head briefly.

Philip gulped down a mouthful of wine then turned his head to the side and belched. "Quit your sulking and enjoy the wine. It is flowing freely tonight."

Alexander glanced about the room at the rampant debauchery. "Your ambassadors appear to be enjoying themselves."

"So they should be. And so should you," Philip implored, shoving a goblet into his son's hands. Wine sloshed over the rim and onto Alexander's fingers. "You will see your friend again."

Alexander's eyes were immediately riveted on his father. "Hephaestion?"

"Aye, Amyntor's boy. One of the ambassadors had a message from his father. His mother has fallen ill, I believe, and she wanted to see him a final time."

All things considered, it did make sense. Hephaestion had always been in communication with his family and though it had been years since he had seen them, Alexander knew that Hephaestion loved them dearly. Given all of the times he had rushed off to see his own mother, Alexander could understand his beloved's need to see his mother in case the worse should happen.

"With all that Amyntor has done for me in the past, giving his son leave to return home was the least I could do," Philip continued, licking his lips as Pausanias approached. "Hephaestion has two months in Athens before he must report back to the Vanguard."

Even knowing the reason for Hephaestion's sudden disappearance, Alexander still felt uneasy. Hephaestion should have left word with him even if he hadn't had the time to say farewell in person. Yet there wasn't even a note, no sign to mark Hephaestion's departure. His beloved had simply disappeared.

Despite his apprehensions, Alexander reluctantly allowed himself to be drawn into the festivities of the night. He knew his further well enough to be aware that Philip wouldn't let him leave until he at least put up the pretense of enjoying himself. It was up to him to present a united front with his father. The Athenians needed to know that the power in Macedon was not linked to a single man.

It was still relatively early when Alexander managed to escape the hall. Philip was utterly distracted and Alexander was able to leave without any fuss. Tempted as he was to go to the barracks on the slim chance that Hephaestion was still in Pella, but knew that it would be a futile effort. If Hephaestion was still in Pella he would have been in the garden that afternoon. No matter how hard he tried, though, Alexander could not dispel the feeling of unease that lingered in the pit of his stomach.

Braziers and lamps were lit when Alexander entered his rooms. The room was warm and inviting, made so the ever-vigilant servants who had kept watch for his return. The same servants had left a note waiting for him one his bed. A letter that had not been there before and that he could only hope was from Hephaestion. Why it had not been there earlier was irrelevant, it could take time for letters to be delivered, even internal ones. Just to be certain, though, he would try to find the letter that had come from Hephaestion's father tomorrow.

Alexander, I would rather I could tell you this in person, but there was not the time. My mother is ill and I must leave for Athens immediately. I trust you will understand my need for haste. I can only hope that by the time I arrive she will be well. Know that I will carry you with me in my heart while we are apart.

Until we meet again, Hephaestion.

Alexander read the note over several times, hoping for some further insight into Hephaestion's mind. There was nothing, though. It was simple, terse, and lacking any of Hephaestion's usual eloquence. It was a letter that had been written quickly. Except for the fact that it was in Hephaestion's hand the letter could have been composed by anyone. That it was in Hephaestion's hand offered Alexander vast amounts of comfort. Hephaestion would return.

There was a sudden influx of light. Hephaestion squeezed his eyes shut tight, but not before talons of agony began to claw at his temples. Trying to roll over availed him nothing either as there were hands pulling him resolutely towards the painful light.

"Let me go!" Hephaestion shouted, twisting about in their grasp. "You are making a mistake! Release me now! Please!"

Angry laughter was the only warning Hephaestion received before he was dropped unceremoniously to the ground. Hephaestion cried out as his left shoulder impacted painfully with the ground. He rolled instinctively onto his back, arching to avoid placing pressure on his bound wrists. Through it all, Hephaestion kept his eyes screwed shut tight against the too bright sunlight.

"I do not know who you angered, boy, but you certainly did a thorough job of it. You are destined for the mines."

Hephaestion was still trying to process the words when he was hauled up onto his knees. Blinking his eyes open, he began to struggle when a knife flashed into his field of vision. Surprised to still be alive as it was, he was certain that he was to meet his end at that remote location so it was a shock when the short blade began to cut away at his chiton instead. The knife-wielder hacked away at the cloth, leaving the length few fingers above the belt; enough so that the lower portion would stay in place. When he thought they had finished, a hand fisted in his hair and his head was pulled back. It took Hephaestion a moment to realize that his long hair was being sawed off close to the scalp.

"You are making a huge mistake," Hephaestion gasped out, the extreme angle that his head was pulled back to making it difficult to draw a full breath. His head was released and a ripped piece of his ruined chiton shoved in his mouth and tied in place tightly.

"No, boy, you made the mistake."

Hephaestion was still struggling to orient himself when he felt the leather cord he had worn about his neck for the past two years pulled taut and then snapped. He lunged forward, desperate not to be parted from the wooden pendant it held. A pendant carved with the images of Achilles and Patroclus that Alexander had given to him.

All that he received for his efforts was a punch to his cheek that sent him sprawling once again. His arms still bound, he could do nothing to catch himself and hit his head hard on the ground. For the second time in an unknown spawn of time, Hephaestion's vision began to fade. His eyes darted about, searching out the pendant and kept his gaze locked on it for as long as possible.

Until he was aware of nothing else.