Thanks to me, neither one of us had, that morning. The squires had done their best, but before them he always kept a face up. He was concerned for me, feeling my head to see if I had sunstroke. I said of my rescuer what was required by honor. He only answered, "That is Hephaistion; it always has been"; and it was as if he closed again the curtain guarding a shrine. It was my punishment. He had meant none; but I knew its fitness.
It was at the next day's halt, that the wind came.
We'd had none before, and now it brought no coolness; only sand, and sand, and sand; blowing under the tents, piling against them till each had its sloping sandhill. Grooms with muffled faces ran to muffle the horses' eyes. It was in our mouths and ears and clothes and hair. It lulled; we slept; and at evening, all shapes were changed, all the landmarks gone, which the scouts had plotted to lead us to next day's water. The waves of sand had swallowed a dead tree whole.
Our water-hole was nearly silted up. I thought this must truly be the end. At least this time, I thought, I shall be somewhere near him, even though it's with Hephaistion he will want to die.
I should have known it was not in him, to sit and wait for death. In the Mallian citadel, when he was lying with the arrow in him, he'd killed with his sword an Indian who came up to take his armor. So, now, he held a war council in his tent. "The guides have given up," he said. "We'll have to find our own landmark. There's only one we know which way to bear for, and that's the sea. We can steer for that by the sun. That's what we'll do."
In the hour before dawn, he set off with thirty horsemen; they had found just so many horses fit for the work. To see their course, they had to go by day.
They vanished beyond the dunes, carrying all our lives.
A score returned that night. Alexander had sent them back when he saw their horses failing. He himself had gone on with ten.
At next day's sunset, red in the sand-haze, we saw them black on the skyline. As they neared, Alexander looked leaner than ever, and the pain-lines were in his face; but he was smiling. We all drank his smile like life.
Five of the ten had fallen behind; with five he had pushed on. They crested a rise; there was the sea, and by the sea what no scouts had found before; green things growing which do not grow in brack. They jumped down and fell to digging, with daggers and bare hands, the thirsty horses nosing at their shoulders. Alexander was the first to strike water; and it was fresh.
The night after that we marched, Alexander leading to guide us. In sight of safety, he allowed himself to ride.
The sea was like polished iron; but it was wet, its mere sight refreshed us. Between it and the reeded dunes, was the strip of green where hidden streams seeped to the ocean.
For five days we followed it, cooled by sea breezes so that we marched by day; digging our wells, and drinking. At evening, we bathed in the sea. It was so delightful, that I forsook all my Persian modesty, and did not even care who saw what a eunuch looks like. We were all like children at play. The guides knew by the green that soon we should reach the road.
Then food began to arrive. The scouts had not died; they had reached the Gedrosian city to the northwest, and from there word had been sent round. The first camel-train came, well laden. It would have given us one spare meal all round, when the march began; now, fair shares made a feast. We were fewer now.
Going by easy stages, we felt strength return; and already faces looked less gaunt, when we came through the passes to the city of Gedrosia.
Here plenty welcomed us; corn and meat and fruit and wine, sent in from Karmania, the pleasant land ahead. We rested, ate and drank; our very skins seemed to drink in health from the green around us. Even Alexander began to gain some flesh, and have blood in his cheeks again. "They look fit now to enjoy themselves a little," he said, and led us on into Karmania, at strolling-pace.
There was a feast at every halt, and plenty of wine; he had sent ahead to have it ready. Someone, Ptolemy or Hephaistion, devised a plan for getting him to take a rest himself. Craftily, they didn't tell him he looked to need it, but said that after his conquests and ordeals, he should make the same progress Dionysos had done before him. They had two chariots lashed together, with a platform across, and couches, green wreaths and a handsome awning. With good horses from the city, it looked very fine, and he did not disdain it. There was room for him and a friend or two; and the troops cheered him along. A great deal has been made of this, with much nonsense about Bacchic revels; but that is what it comes down to. A good device; it gave him a ride on cushions.
In fresh meadows, by sweet waters, under shady trees, we made our camp. He said to me, "It's too long since I saw you dance."
Shockingly out of training as I was, I was young; the sap flowed back into me as into a watered vine; each day my practice moved from labor towards pleasure. Also it kept me from overeating; everyone's temptation then, and a dangerous one for eunuchs. Fat once put on is not shed so easily. Even since youth is past, I have managed to avoid it. I have him to think of. I've no wish to hear people saying, "Is that what the great Alexander chose to love?"
A racecourse was leveled, a square for trick-riding and such shows; and the carpenters ran up a very good theater. Singers and actors, dancers and acrobats were posting from everywhere in reach. All was gaiety, except for Alexander, who was getting news of what some of his satraps and governors had been up to, when they thought he was dying of his wound in India. In Gedrosia itself the satrap had been corrupt and slack. He was a Macedonian; Alexander put a Persian in his place. Meantime, the men must have rest and revelry; also he was awaiting Krateros and his army. Offenders elsewhere must wait.
His greatest trouble was getting no news of the fleet. Along that dreadful coast, he'd been able to leave them nothing. They were long overdue; if they perished, he would take it on himself forever.
Krateros and his throng arrived; our camp was once more a city. Roxane was in good health. Alexander paid his respects without delay, though he left again without much delay either.
I fell in with Ismenios, asking about for news of me. We took wine under a tavern awning, and exchanged our tales. "I always knew," he said, "that your bones were beautiful, but you must put a little more on them. But, Bagoas, the King! He looks—not older, I suppose —worn out."
"Oh, he's building up," I answered quickly. "You should have seen him a month ago." And I spoke of other things.
Just after, the governor of the district up the coast came posting by chariot, to say the fleet was safe, and Niarchos would be here directly.
Alexander lit up as if he'd slept for a week, and gave the governor presents. Nobody knew that this man, being as stupid as greedy, had offered them no help to lay up their ships, nor given them transport; just rushed off with his news lest anyone should get the reward before him. Days passed; Alexander sent out an escort but it found no seamen. The governor, still at court, was suspect and put under open arrest; Alexander looked more careworn than before, but sent out another escort. On the second day, it brought back two gnarled wizened men, their bodies like rawhide thongs, tanned almost black: Niarchos and his first officer. The escort had not known them, even when they asked for Alexander.
He came forward to embrace his boyhood friend, and wept. Seeing their state, he supposed them the sole survivors. When Niarchos told him the whole fleet was safe, he cried again for joy.
They'd had many hardships and adventures, which are all in Niarchos' book. Kretans are tough; he lived to campaign for years and write his memoirs. If you want to hear of huge whales who flee from the sound of trumpets, or the beastly lives of the Fish-Eaters, you can go to him.
He and his men were feted; Alexander began to look something like himself again. He entertained his friends and honored the gods with festivals; and the revels followed. A whole crowd of entertainers had come in Krateros' convoy; things could be done in style.
There were games, of course. The riding-events were mostly won by Persians; the foot-races by Greeks, who are fonder of using their legs. (Alexander had given me two fine Karmanian horses.) Thracians won the archery. All the allies got a chance to shine. But we were almost in Persis now; when I saw him look with liking on my people's graces, I knew he was one of us.
The plays came next; all very Greek. Masks still came strange to me. When I confessed to Alexander that I'd sooner see the faces, he said he would agree if the face was mine. In this last month, I'd been teaching him once more to embrace delight, instead of pain. His very body felt different, strained into a habit of endurance. A little tending was what he needed; he looked years younger, when I'd loosened him up.
After the drama, the music contests. The day after that, the dancing.
There were nine or ten of us, from everywhere between Greece and India; some very good. This won't be my day, I thought; I'll just dance for him. If he likes it, that's prize enough.
I had just come from where water stood for joy. I wore white striped with green, and started with little tinkling finger-bells for the mountain stream. Then the river flashed and twisted, and took great leaps for the rapids; flowed in slow bends; and sank down, stretching out its arms for the sea's embrace.
Well, it was as he liked it. But it seemed all the army had liked it too. Considering how good some of the rest had been, I was amazed at the noise.
The Indian, who came last, I thought a serious rival; he did Krishna with a flute; and the boy from Susa was very polished indeed. To tell the truth, I have never been too sure about that contest. If I was no better than the runners-up, I daresay I was no worse; and, as always, Alexander did not direct the judges. But the army did.
It was for him, of course. I don't think I was badly liked; I did not flaunt myself, nor intrigue, nor sell my influence. I'd been with him a long time now; I expect it touched them to see how his love endured. He had suffered; they wanted to see him happy; they had watched his face as I danced. They did it for him.
The crown was of gold olive-sprays with sheet-gold ribbons. He put it on me, and stroked the ribbons to fall into my hair, and said softly, "Beautiful. Don't go, sit here by me." I sat on the edge of the dais by his chair; we smiled at one another. The army clapped and stamped; a someone with a voice of Stentor yelled, "Go on! Give him a kiss!"
I looked down, confused. This was going too far, I wasn't sure how he'd take it. They were shouting it all round the theater now. I felt him touch my shoulder. They had been with him a long time, too; he could tell affection from insolence. He drew me up into his arms, and gave me two firm kisses. To judge from the applause, they liked it better than the dancing.
It is as well that Persian ladies do not attend public spectacles, as Greek ones do. I have always thought it a most immodest custom.
That night he said to me, "You've won back all your beauty from the desert, or even more." Well, that's not so hard, at twenty-two, when you have never had a wound. He meant that it was good at last to feel a little life left to spare in him, at the end of the day.
I made him happy, without putting too much tax on it; how was my secret, he never knew the difference. He was content, which was all that mattered to me just then, and fell asleep straight after.
When I rose, the cover slipped away, but he did not stir. I lifted the lamp and looked at him. He lay on his side. His back was smooth as a boy's, his wounds were all in front. There was no weapon devised to cut, or pierce, or fling, that had not left its mark on him. His body was white against his sun-scorched limbs; it was long since he'd run in the ball-court naked with his friends, which had once so shocked me. In his side, the knotted scar dragged on his ribs; even now in his first sleep, his brow was not quite smooth. His eyelids were wrinkled, old in the face of a boy at rest. His hair shone paler than it used when lamplight fell on it; the threads of silver had turned to streaks, since we marched into Gedrosia. He was thirty-one.
I reached to pull up the cover. But I had to draw back, lest my tears should fall and wake him.
25
To REST the desert troops, he sent them under Hephaistion by the coast roads to Persia; it would be mild there when winter came. He himself, as always, had work to do. With a small force, mostly cavalry, he went straight up country, to Pasargadai and Persepolis.
Had I been with Darius in time of peace, I should have known these places, the royal heartland of my country. It was Alexander who knew them. When we were up in the hills, he took me for an early ride, to taste, as he said, the clean air of Persia once again. I breathed it and said, "Al'skander, we are home."
"Truly. I too." He looked towards the folded ranges, whose peaks had had the first snowfalls. "I'd say this only to you; shut it in your heart. Macedon was my father's country. This is mine."
I answered, "You never gave me a greater gift than that."
A fresh wind blew from the heights; the breath of our horses steamed in it. He said, "In Pasargadai, we shall lie in Kyros' own house. Strange that you're of his tribe, yet it will be I who'll show you his tomb. I've trouble to deal with thereabouts; but that's one thing I look forward to. Lucky we're both slim; the doorway's so narrow, even you will have to go sideways. They must have walled it half up against robbers, since they brought in that great gold coffin; it wouldn't go through now. His grave-offerings are still on the dais around it; you shall see his swords, the very clothes he wore, and his jeweled necklaces. They gifted him well, they must have loved him. I added something too; he taught me what it means to be a king." His horse fidgeted, tired of walking. "Behave," he said, "or Kyros shall have you ... I left orders to sacrifice one horse a month to him; they said that was the ancient custom."
Then we gave them their heads and galloped. His face was glowing, his hair flicked in the wind, his eyes lit up. When he told me, after, that he'd felt no more than a stitch in his ribs, I half believed him. Persis had done him good. I thought, Happiness begins again.
