[Thank you so much for your votes and e-mails -- I hope you enjoy this next instalment. It is slightly different to what I have written so far... Please remember to vote at the end, and I always welcome feedback!]
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The men were roused and ready for the comparatively short march south to Babylon. It was certainly shorter than the vast distance they had travelled from their homes in Macedonia across the dark Aegean Sea to Asia and the Persian Empire. The going was always easier when a tantalising city holding an almost mythical place of beauty and sensuality in their minds awaited their arrival.
Each soldier had just one thought in mind during the march under the sweltering heat of the hot Eastern sun: luxury. This luxury meant as many men or women as they desired, as much treasure as they could carry and long, cool baths to wash away their exhaustion and memories of the arduous battles they had fought, losing blood and friends along the way.
Alexander rode alongside his men atop his pride and joy, Bucephalus. This horse he was proud to have broken in after his father's men had failed to tame it. It was huge and black and towered over not only the soldiers but also the horses of his generals who rode with him.
He looked carefree as he rode, his blonde hair freed from the leather thong he often used to tie it back with, particularly when he was wearing his plumed helmet. Alexander always cherished these moments after a successful battle, knowing there would be time for them all to enjoy life, which battle showed was so easily lost, and each other's company. He valued each and every one of the soldiers who trusted him as they trusted their own fathers and believed he would take them to the immortal planes of history and paradise.
***
At length, the army reached the banks of the river Euphrates. After their initial wonder at its size and the speed at which it travelled to the Persian Gulf, they broke ranks and leapt into the water's edge. They laughed and pushed each other under the clear blue waters, revelling in the freshness of the cool, rippling waves.
Just beyond the river was the city of Babylon and ... Barsine.
Alexander had pondered her presence there. He hadn't seen her for months, not since he had killed her husband, Memnon, in hand to hand combat. He had seen her cradle his enemy's head in her arms, her tears and long, brown tousled hair covering Memnon whilst blood bubbled at the corner of his mouth until his body shuddered and finally lay dead in her lap. Alexander had turned away from the sight but turned round once more when he heard Barsine speak.
"I curse you Alexander! I curse you and all your line! You will all die as my husband died," she spat at him, hate filling her beautiful brown eyes which ran with unending tears, testament to her grief which was overflowing her heart.
Alexander sighed inwardly as he walked smiling and waving through the monumental gates to the adulation of thousands. He knew Barsine would be in Babylon, though he tried not to think of the curses which she had rained down upon him and his future sons. He knew he would have to face her... he knew he would have to have her...and he knew it would destroy Hephaestion.
***
Having left his soldiers and generals who were raucously enjoying their men, women and copiously flowing wine in the palatial barracks, he turned to face Hephaestion who had followed him out of the doorway still carrying a jewelled goblet of the richly aromatic Persian wine in his large, strong hand.
Placing a hand on Hephaestion's shoulder, Alexander looked deep into his lover's playful eyes and said quietly, "Please my love, please give me a few moments to myself... so much has happened, I need to think."
The smile slowly faded from Hephaestion's face and he looked intently at Alexander who did his level best not to look away, but after a few moments his blue eyes left Hephaestion's and focused on the richly veined marble floor yet they saw nothing. Hephaestion shook his head and shook off Alexander's hand, then turned and walked back into the room full of revellers.
Alexander raised his anxious eyes from the floor and watched Hephaestion's tense back as he returned slowly to the barracks. He knew he had hurt him deeply. He wondered if their friendship would ever be the same again. He shook his head in an attempt to clear these dark thoughts from his mind and turned to walk through the torch-lit hallways to get to the harem.
***
As Hephaestion re-entered the revelry, he took a deep draught of his strongly spiced wine and a smile once again graced his beautiful face. This smile wasn't the warm loving and carefree one he had worn as Alexander had entered the room, but a hard, dark almost cruel smile. He was well aware what Alexander intended to do to Barsine. He knew him as well, if not better, than he knew his own heart and soul.
He took another deep drink of the wine needing it to blot out these thoughts from his mind before holding out the empty goblet to be refilled by a rather innocent looking boy who couldn't have been much older than twenty years old. This innocent look belied the experience Hephaestion knew he would have, having been trained in giving pleasure to his masters.
Hephaestion smiled a hard smile at him before throwing the contents of the goblet down his muscular throat and reaching out, he pulled the boy and his large brass jug towards him. He needed to be drunk, very drunk. He also needed to forget and this delightful slave with his gently muscled torso which peeked out from the one-shouldered, finely woven tunic would certainly help a little.
He pushed him to his knees between his thighs and the boy knew what he wanted. He tentatively ran his fingers across Hephaestion's taut and heavily muscled chest which was revealed by his opened tunic and began to press butterfly soft kisses across his pectorals, pausing to pay homage to the tight dusky pink buds of his nipples. Laving them with his tongue and sucking them before nipping them with his teeth.
At this Hephaestion groaned. He needed some soft agony in his love-making tonight. The slave acknowledged that he knew this man needed and began to pull and squeeze the growing length peeking out from under the pure white tunic, edged in saffron-coloured embroidery. Hephaestion pushed the boy's head down to his heavily veined cock, watching his teeth nip at his foreskin before sucking the angry red head into his moist mouth. He pinched the heavy sacs at its base and then smacked them repeatedly before Hephaestion's cock jumped in his mouth.
It was all he could do to stop cumming in the boy's mouth. He threw the goblet to the floor and hauled the boy to his lap, his arm muscles straining only a little at the effort. He pulled at the boys clothing, minimal as it was, frantically tearing it off his lithe body as the sexual slave positioned Hephaestion's cock at his entrance which was readily oiled for the pounding he knew he was going to get.
Hephaestion simultaneously pushed him down onto his thickly swollen length and thrust his cock upwards into his dark, tight channel. He cried out at the bliss of having him. He roughly and repeatedly rammed his cock up his silky smooth and perfectly lubricated ass, the slave holding onto Hephaestion's strong shoulders, sucking and licking his neck and ear lobe until at last Hephaestion shuddered and began to spurt ropes of his thick, pearlescent cum deep into his bowels.
Hephaestion closed his eyes as the sweat ran down the ridge at the centre of his chest.
The slave lay still in his arms for a few moments, before gently lifting his beautifully toned ass up from Hephaestion's lap, the cock which had been so rigid only moments before, fell out of his ass with a slight pop as it passed through his tight ring. He found a soft towel and began to wipe Hephaestion's body down before feeding succulent meats from a tray brought to them by another of the many slaves serving Alexander's men.
Hephaestion had found some refuge from the hellish thoughts of Alexander in another's arms, however briefly.
***
Barsine was laughing with her sisters who were all reclining around a central fountain on feather-filled pillows of brightly coloured silks, echoing the soft fabric which was sewn to fall in enticing drapes over their soft yet firm curves. The room was lit by a myriad of tall, tapering candles scented with patchouli and sandalwood, which were reflected by the crystal fountain and the small colourful mirrors embedded in the darkly polished wooden walls.
Barsine raised her long, slender arms, the golden bracelets delicately jingling, as she tried to illustrate the story she was telling them about the eunuch who had tried to walk as a man by filling the front of his loincloth with grapes. They all began to laugh anew, their delightful voices travelling through the marble corridors to envelop Alexander.
He stopped and listened, trying to make out Barsine's throaty voice from the others, after a few moments he heard it clearly. His breath caught in his chest and his heart almost stopped beating. It was her. After so many long years he once again heard her beautiful, unique tones. He quickened his pace to get to her.
A eunuch stepped in front of him as he neared the entrance to the room he had heard her voice emanating from. Raising one beautifully arched eyebrow and folding his arms across his large, round belly, Bagoas pursed his lips, looked Alexander up and down appreciatively, and asked, "So, my beautiful man, what do you want here, eh?"
Alexander was taken aback by his attitude and words, no one had ever had the audacity to speak to him like that. "Do you know who I am?" he asked incredulously.
