Gefestion and Alexander friendship or love. Alexander the Great was neither gay nor bisexual
I have always been interested in inspiring examples of heroes from the war and other significant historical events, but my meager knowledge of military affairs, which I want to understand, and, of course, the unbearable longing for the Game of Thrones, made me drip into such distant times) Alexander attracted great attention from me Great, despite the fact that at first I just watched the film by Oliver Stone, and then I was literally bombarded with information about him in other sources. In this order, I will begin to describe my impressions of his achievements, which greatly depended on his close friend Hephaestion, and on whom he, apparently, depended himself.
We must immediately pay tribute to Alexander for having managed to seize power at the sudden death of his father, Philip II, because he was only 20 then (quite a boy). It was then that the story of his grandiose reign began, which did not last so long, just over ten years. For, despite his great achievements and steadfastness in battle, he died at the age of 32 from a fever, and in fact he did not survive the death of Hephaestion, who died eight months earlier (more on this later). Together with Hephaestion, who was second in importance in Macedonia after Alexander, they expanded Macedonia to a world scale.
If we talk about the film, then he will not tell more about Alexander and Hephaestion. He will not explain exactly how they succeeded, how close they were, although he will hint at the ambiguity of their relationship (nevertheless, it is still unsuccessful), he will not convey the character of either one or the other. I can still forgive the sissy-Hephaestion, who was not a sissy, because such roles are just created for Leto, and Leto is created for them; but how could it be possible to take on an ill-conceived role of Alexander also an actor with an average talent? Well, one of the pluses of the film is Jolie and her Olympias, Alexander's mother. Here's the personality to start with.
From childhood, Olympias inspired Alexander with his divine origin, as if Achilles himself was his maternal ancestor. Later, Alexander would be inspired by Achilles as his main idol, and he would associate Hephaestion with Patroclus. For such high ideals and fighting courage, like Alexander, faith in something more was simply necessary, which the Olympics laid in him.
Many probably know the story of how Alexander saddled the horse Bucephalus, which they tried to sell to Philip II for an unimaginable amount at that time. Alexander was about thirteen when he realized that the horse was just afraid of his own shadow, which is why no one could pacify him. This already testifies to the strategic inclinations of Alexander, as well as his unprecedented attachment to his loved ones. The same Bucephalus served as his main horse until his last battle, and this is about twenty years, in fact, almost until the end of Alexander's life.
Alexander decided to part with the Olympics when she went too far with her attempts to control him. For such military talent, Alexander was unusually sensitive by nature, and in general extremely emotional. He demanded a lot and did not forgive much. Once he just took off during a military campaign only to punish one of his cities for raising a riot, when its inhabitants mistakenly considered Alexander killed ... and cut him :) He also had positive sides - he was very attentive to his warriors, participated in every battle among them, being easily accessible to the enemy, took care of his people and even shared the cultural traditions of the captured peoples in order to get closer to them.
Only Hephaestion had more influence on Alexander than his mother. Hephaestion was of noble birth, they studied together with Alexander since childhood. His date of birth is unknown, but presumably they were the same age. Hephaestion possessed the most valuable quality for Alexander - fidelity. Once Hephaestion almost stood under the knife when he quarreled with another close associate of Alexander, who objected to the intentions of the king, because Hephaestion took his goals and desires so close to his heart. It is hard to imagine how Alexander alone could keep the entire power in check, although this is how most sources try to portray him, being afraid to refer to Hephaestion, apparently, because of the very inexplicable closeness between them. But if you put another no less talented commander on a par with Alexander, then everything immediately falls into place.
One of Alexander's main merits was his developed diplomacy, but it was hardly his only, given that he could take Hephaestion's opinion into account when making decisions. As mentioned above, Alexander thought slightly in a hot head. But Gefestion was a truly balanced person. Despite the fact that Alexander was a student of Aristotle in childhood, in his adult years it was Hephaestion who corresponded with him, which was based on mutual intellectual interest between them. Apparently, Hephaestion also owns diplomatic initiatives. For example, since he himself had the opportunity to manage a fleet with unstable relations between representatives of different cultures, which he coped with perfectly, maintaining its unity. Alexander could easily entrust him with half of the army, which required colossal devotion from Hephaestion and leadership qualities. They really complemented each other. For example, during a campaign against India, the Macedonians encountered an unprecedented military force - war elephants. Elephants were detrimental to the enemy's cavalry, as the horses could not stand their smell and ran away, while the cavalry was the main striking force. If there were 20 elephants in the army, this was already something unthinkable ... Alexander, in the end, won back 200 elephants, having figured out how to lead the cavalry through the enemy’s elephants so that it would not fall apart. And Hephaestion then transported this "trophy" in the same conflict fleet.
When they defeated King Darius of Persia, Darius' mother, accepting the defeat, first bowed before Hephaestion, confusing him with Alexander, to which Alexander had a positive reaction, since he perceived him as part of himself. Then Alexander officially made Hephaestion his relative, marrying his sisters with him. Hephaestion could read Alexander's letters. Naturally, he aroused jealousy among other close associates of Alexander, they did not like him, and it is not a fact that for no reason, because there is a possibility that he could participate in a conspiracy against some of them. Here is the Letovskaya sissy ...
But what struck me the most was, of course, Alexander's reaction to the death of Hephaestion. Hephaestion died under strange circumstances, with an ordinary illness, when nothing foreshadowed trouble. The fact that Alexander executed the attending physician, I think, is already obvious. But he also knocked out 12 ... 12 special men as a sacrifice ... he himself could not tear himself away from the body of the deceased until he was dragged away by force a day later. He asked the oracle for permission to bury Hephaestion as a god, for which he received permission to honor him as an unearthly hero, which satisfied him. The "richest" burial in Amphipolis, according to one version, belongs to Hephaestion, because they even found his emblem there. Alexander gave the grandest funeral... worth $1.5 billion by today's standards. But, most importantly, when he declared mourning throughout the state, he banned the flute ... it's on what an endless, global territory; flute - how else to play love; no sound of love without Hephaestion!
Alexander, having survived numerous battles and being the ruler of the most powerful power in the world, died less than a year after the death of Hephaestion. He died of a fever, but given the fact that after the death of Hephaestion he completely lost his balance, became mad, drank endlessly, then I dare to assume that his body was simply depleted, as often happens in people from grief. Then there were other possibilities of medicine and living conditions in principle, so they didn’t save him, but the death of Hephaestion served as a prerequisite for everything. Both were 32-33 years old.
HEPHESTION.
Ch.1 Buckle.
344 BC
Well, what is there? He has already gone?
- Shhh… quieter, - Gefestion waved away Demas impatiently tugging at the edge of his tunic.
"Shut up and don't move until I say you can."
The younger brother pursed his lips in annoyance. His eyes became like two black cherries soaked in water. It was not enough for this roar to burst into tears
- Do you want to touch this buckle? – hissed Hephaestion. – How can I get it if you keep pulling me all the time?
Dimas, immediately swallowing his tears, sobbed with satisfaction and wiped his snub nose with his fist.
And Gefestion focused again on his goal. The travel cloak of Aristomachus lay, thrown among other things. Now the lame servant of the Loharg will appear - and everything is lost. This is the only chance.
Gathering more air into his chest, with a booming heart, Gefestion dived into the twilight of the guest's room. The buckle was exactly where he expected it to be. Unfastening the fibula, the boy pricked his finger painfully: a scarlet drop immediately swelled up with an iridescent tubercle on the tip of the finger. Gefestion hastily put his finger in his mouth. And then he heard the uneven footsteps of the lame man. His heart skipped a beat, and he, forgetting everything, rushed headlong out. Rolled out of the window into a nettle bush. But there was no time to pay attention to the stinging stings.
How beautiful, - Dimas, opening his already huge eyes wide, carefully touched with his finger a small horse's muzzle - one of the two that adorned the half-ring of the buckle.
"Will you let me hold her?"
Hephaestion, having licked his palm, ran along the thigh bitten by the nettle, trying to relieve the burning sensation.
- Oh, hold on. But not to long.
The younger brother reverently accepted the fibula in his open hands.
- Be careful, don't inject yourself, - Gefestion muttered, thinking about how soon the father's guest will discover the loss and whether this will cause a commotion. It is unlikely that the loharg, who used to come for only one or two days, will now stay for a long time, because he did not bring any of his things with him.
Hephaestion was going to throw the fibula back somehow imperceptibly: well, as if it had simply unfastened and rolled into a corner. Or even give it back himself: he will say that he found it in the yard.
The main thing is that he won the argument: he promised that he would have the buckle - and here it is! You can admire! Beautiful, heavy, real masculine decoration. When he grows up, he will order for himself exactly the same, and maybe even more beautiful and bigger.
Hephaestion took away the little thing from his brother - he sighed, but did not dare to object - and began to examine the buckle from all sides, trying to remember every little thing better. It will be a pity to give! But he couldn't leave her. Because then it would be stealing. Is it just ... to bring it as a gift to Hermes, making him your accomplice? They'll get along with this rogue god! Hephaestion will show the fibula to a stone figurine, and then bury it in the ground, somewhere nearby. And then, if he wants, he can always look at her.
The boys, to whom he presented the subject of the dispute, examined the little thing with no less trepidation than Demas and Hephaestion. To get the decoration of the royal horseman was a real feat. And the authority of Hephaestion - the most desperate tomboy in the district - was strengthened even more.
At dinner, however, he tried to be as discreet as possible. He tried to understand, throwing furtive glances at Aminta and Aristomachus, who were talking peacefully: missed? Or not yet?
Demas could blabbed - Hephaestion was afraid of this. But, fortunately, the younger brother was already snoring peacefully in his bed in the female half. And tomorrow - so be it - the commander will ride back to Pella early in the morning, as usual, and the incident will turn into an adventure, nothing more.
Hephaestion, - thundered the father's thick bass, causing the boy to flinch. He was so frightened that his tongue stuck to his throat, and he could not squeeze out a sound. Did you still get caught?
- Do you remember how I took you to Pella? About eight years ago.
Father's eyes looked calm and cheerful. Hephaestion exhaled. Loharg stared at him too. And from the look of his gray eyes Gefestion was uncomfortable. It seemed as if the brand of a thief was burning on his forehead. A buckle buried in the garden near an ugly old statue burned him with fire. Hermes, apparently, did not care about the gift. Or did he feel the boy's selfish interest and therefore did not want to become an accomplice in this theft?
- Y-yes, - finally squeezed out Gefestion, blushing and hiding his eyes.
- Do you remember King Philip? boomed his father's voice.
- I remember, - Hephaestion answered very quickly, a little cunning, because he saw the king only briefly, and remembered only his thick terrible beard. And although Aminta also wore a beard, it was an aristocratic beard - beautiful, always neatly cut by his own barber,
Do you remember Alexander, son of the king? - did not let up the father.
- Not much, - Hephaestion answered with embarrassment: what does his father want from him, because he was then no more than five years old? That was a lifetime ago!
- That's good. Because tomorrow you will go to the palace, - Aminta finished solemnly.
Gefestion froze with surprise. He blinked rapidly, forgetting all his recent worries. He looked from his father to the loharg who was silently watching him.
- The king gathers friends for the heir. And you are among them. It seems that they are thinking of sending the prince to study in ... - the father turned to Aristomachus, forgetting the name of the place they had just talked about.
- To Mieza, - the pleasant velvety voice of the loharg now only resonated Hephaestion's hearing.
- And you, most likely, will have to go there with him.
What more news! What trip? He wasn't going anywhere! Yes, he has a whole bunch of things planned with the boys! Tomorrow they must take the litter from the whelping shepherd and arrange a house for them. Then - they planned to get into the stables of Theoclitus: Hephaestion vouched that he would not be afraid to climb onto a new black stallion that had recently appeared there, the most vicious stallion they had ever seen. And it was a matter of honor to keep the word. But what now?
Taking advantage of his confusion, the father continued:
- It is a great honor for us. So do not hesitate to collect. I don't think you have a lot of things, do you think? Take what you need to get started. Then the rest will be brought to you.
- I… but… I, - began stuttering Hephaestion.
- Go, you're leaving tomorrow at dawn. Aristomachus will deliver you and follow you there for a while. I'll come back myself as soon as I can get free here.
- But I can't go!
- What? - father menacingly knitted his eyebrows. He didn't acknowledge any objection. Especially when it comes to the benefit of the family.
Father...but I..., - Gefestion squeezed out plaintively, feverishly thinking what excuse to come up with. Help me, Hermes! There was no way to go! And his father's anger now seemed the lesser evil compared to the fact that his whole life should go awry!
What? - Aminta repeated menacingly.
- I feel bad, - blurted out Gefestion. - I have a strange rash, it itches, - he made a plaintive face and showed hives on his thigh.
Aristomachus could not help laughing, covering himself with his fist. And Aminta angrily jumped up:
- Now I'll scratch you, scoundrel! With rods!
Hephaestion shrunk into a ball, realizing that the trick hadn't worked, but he didn't move. It was necessary to put forward some very weighty argument. Such that the father would not have any doubts that Hephaestion should not be sent to any Pella, to any king, or to all his princes together!
But I really can't go! - Fear made Hephaestion's voice sonorous, and forced Aminta to sit down in a puzzled place.
Because I'm not worthy!
- What-oh? - the father's face stretched out, and Aristomachus forgot to laugh, staring at the boy with interest.
Hephaestion puffed up and stubbornly puffed out his chest: come what may.
- I am not worthy of the honor to go to the court and be friends with the prince.
- Why else? - Aminta was greatly discouraged, believing that he probably went too far with the words “great honor”, because the boy was still so naive!
Because I am a thief.
Aristomachus coughed, again hiding his face in his fist. And Aminta was now angry in earnest:
- What are some other ideas? He slammed his fist on the table.
Gefestion lifted his face in defiance:
- I stole the buckle from the loharg Aristomachus, from his cloak, and buried it in the garden.
His voice echoed and there was silence. Aminta and his guest looked at each other. Aristomachus shrugged his shoulders: they say, I do not understand what it is about. The father, moving his eyebrows, turned to Hephaestion, who was ready to be torn to pieces today so that tomorrow everything would be the same as before.
- Ta-a-ak. And what is this story? Come on, make it clear.
And Gefestion in a trembling voice, no longer understanding where he was taking and why he betrayed himself, told how he argued with the guys, pulled off a beautiful little thing and presented it to Hermes.
- I'm a thief. I have no place at the royal court, - he summed up doomedly.
Aminta, sighing heavily, rubbed his forehead with his hand. Aristomachus, becoming more serious, said that he did not even remember what kind of buckle it was, so there was no need to worry about trifles.
- Go and get it. Now, my father ordered.
And Gefestion, not knowing whether the terrible recognition would have the effect he was counting on, trudged into the twilight garden - to take away his treasure from the traitor Hermes.
Giving the beautiful little thing to Aristomachus, Gefestion, no matter how unsettled by the expectation of the verdict, noticed how the jaws of the young warrior were tensely clenched, and his gaze became impenetrably cold. It was like he wasn't happy to have it back.
He very quickly removed the decoration from his eyes and, with a short nod to Hephaestion, went out, leaving him alone with his father.
- And now listen to me carefully, boy, - Aminta's voice was tired, and every word fell into Hephaestion's consciousness, like heavy stones on dusty ground.
“What you have done certainly deserves punishment, and you will get yours.” But let this be a lesson to you. First: I did not teach you, as a Spartan, to take what lies badly. That is why what was stolen did not please your heart, but burned with shame from what you had done. The fact that you told about everything proves that I did not raise you so badly. And I think I will not be ashamed of my son in front of King Philip and his son. However, the second: you should not always give free rein to your language. Sometimes silence is more beneficial than the truth being revealed. Especially where next to you will not be your family, your loved ones. And third. Know how to restrain your momentary impulses for the sake of a cause that will benefit in the future. Learn to see beyond the tip of your snub nose, - Aminta lightly flicked his nose and pushed him to the door:
- Get up. There is little time left.
Hephaestion looked longingly at his native places. Self-pity demanded more tragedy from this scene, and he thought: “Perhaps I will never come back here again!” And the bitter tears, so long held back - when he was flogged for a misdeed, when his mother impulsively and awkwardly hugged him, saying goodbye, when Demas thrust into his palm a clay ball interspersed with lapis lazuli (he gave his main treasure to his beloved older brother) - flowed down his cheeks. He squeezed the horse's sides, grimacing in pain from yesterday's whipping, and rushed to catch up with Aristomachus. Two servants: the lame slave of the loharga, who did not know what he had managed to avoid if the master had not been able to fasten his cloak in the morning, and the house slave of Aminta, who accompanied Hephaestion, hastily trotted after them on their mules.
It was several hours drive from the estate to Pella, but, nevertheless, the farther Hephaestion drove away from his homeland, the more drearily his heart contracted, already without mock tragedy. Aristomachus seems to have noticed his condition.
“Hey, keep your nose up, lad,” the warrior winked at him as they drew level and pulled their horses back to let the servants who hadn’t kept up with them catch their breath.
- You'll see, everything will be fine.
Gefestion did not find what to answer. Of course, it was easy for Aristomachus, whom his father called the king's favorite, to say "don't hang your nose." He was something like that: mature, handsome, strong.
Gefestion always liked him, and in games he often represented himself as Aristomachus. At another time, jumping like this - foot to foot with a real loharg - would be true happiness for him. Friends should see him now! But just today, he was unable to enjoy it. He himself did not know what worried him so much: either the trip - the first time so far, without a father, without older brothers, or an upcoming meeting with Tsar Philip (with his terrible beard), or an incomprehensible mission: to become a friend of the Macedonian heir . Of course, both his teachers, and his father, and even his mother told him more than once that such a future was possible. But he did not imagine that it would burst into his life so soon. And now he was completely crushed.
The sun beat down mercilessly. I wanted to drink. Sweat corroded the fresh welts on Hephaestion's thighs and ass. He was ready to cry in despair. But he was forced to restrain himself, because the commander of the royal agema detachment was nearby.
Aristomachus suddenly reined in his horse.
- Let's take a break. Let's water the horses and swim, would you like to?
Hephaestion shrugged his shoulders: all he wanted now was to return to his former world.
Having released the horse, Aristomachus quickly threw off his clothes. Gefestion for a moment admired the strong tanned body, involuntarily detaining his gaze on the battle scars of the young commander. “Someday I will be the same,” a familiar thought flashed.
- What are you waiting for? - Aristomachus, smiling, beckoned him and, groaning loudly, plunged into the icy water. They did not manage to swim in a shallow river, more like a cold mountain stream, but they were able to splash freely.
And then Aristomachus, still naked, dropped to one knee, carefully rubbed the boy with his cloak, trying not to disturb the red stripes left by the rods too much. Gefestion, in turn, tried not to frown when Aristomachus nevertheless touched them.
And this moment - radiant inferno, clear sky, drops of water on the body and wet hair of Aristomachus, his strong hands - a moment mixed with the smells of sun-bleached grass, hot earth, moisture, male body - forever imprinted in his memory. But Gefestion did not know this yet.
And then he pulled on his shortish tunic, wrung it out, pulled his hair tightly at the back of his head. Aristomachus managed to put on his military clothes quickly.
He turned the wet cloak over in his hands, wondering if he should put it on now that there was no trace of the morning chill. Then he deftly unfastened the ill-fated brooch and handed it to Hephaestion:
- Hold on.
The boy opened his eyes in surprise.
- Take it, it's a gift.
Hephaestion, still not believing, slowly extended his hand. And only when both horses at the ends of the semicircle smiled at him, sparkling in the sun, did he feel his heart beat joyfully.
“Thank you!” he shouted loudly to the loharg, who had managed to jump on his steed. Having hastily pinned the buckle to his shoulder, Gefestion climbed onto his horse without outside help, forgetting about the pain. Almighty Zeus! Maybe it really isn't all that bad? Well, let's see what this royal court is.
***
Aristomachus lingered. Hephaestion, bored alone, had already studied every leaf carved on the stone fence, near which the warrior ordered him to stay.
The orange coarse sand on the path underfoot ceased to seem interesting, and he erased another painted face with the toe of his sandal. The narrow space of the courtyard where he was left, with a meager patch of whitish sky, began to press on him.
“Someone seems to have been flogged recently,” a fervent boyish voice was heard from somewhere above. And then the owner of it with the dexterity of a cat jumped down from the stone fence and straightened up in front of him.
The boy, shorter than Hephaestion, light-skinned, with freckles on a large straight nose, slowly walked around him. And Hephaestion involuntarily pulled back the cursed short chiton, which did not hide the traces of punishment on his hips.
- And what's the matter with you? he grunted in response, trying to determine whether he was a friend or an enemy.
The boy raised his head arrogantly, and calmly looking at him, declared:
- I'm never beaten.
- You're lying, - Gefestion chuckled. Such a statement was tantamount to saying "I never eat" or "I never sleep."
- No, - cut off the boy, and for some reason Gefestion believed him.
- Where did you get this buckle? the boy suddenly asked unceremoniously, pointing his finger at Hephaestion's shoulder and looking at him point-blank with his large, strangely adult eyes. The eyes were gray, on the iris of one - brown spot, why at first it even seemed to Gefestion that they were of different colors. Where has he seen them? Alexander?
Hephaestion began to think feverishly, trying to compare his memories, which prompted him the correct answer, and the clothes that were too poor for the prince. Gefestion hesitated. And the boy did not give him time to think, demandingly repeating:
- So where did you get it from?
- Aristomachus gave it to me, - for some reason, Gefestion laid out with all frankness. And he felt: under this look, he could give out secrets that were not so! He was immediately embarrassed, because Alexander, as a matter of course, asked:
- Are you lovers?
Hephaestion flared up:
- What?
- Well, since he gives you such gifts, he must be sleeping with you?
- Why do you think so? - Hephaestion's fists mechanically clenched. If in the place of this incomprehensible boy one of his family friends, he would have long been wallowing in orange dust with a broken nose. But here… everything was strange. And some fragments of memories again prompted: this is Alexander.
Hephaestion remembered exactly now: both the naughty light whirlwinds, and this manner of keeping his head upturned a little to one side. They saw each other for a very long time. And only once. Memory erased many details, but stubbornly whispered: before you is the son of Philip.
- I don't understand, - Hephaestion muttered in confusion, angry with himself that he couldn't do anything about embarrassment, and that Alexander would now only be sure of his ridiculous guess.
- My father gives such to his lovers, - Alexander said quite calmly: - Aristomachus, you say? - He wrinkled his forehead. “The one who became a loharg at the same time as Black Cleitus, whom his father appointed as the commander of the agema?” If it's him, I'm sure I know where he got that buckle. You can be sure, just like that, the king would not give it to him. And he - to you, - summed up Alexander.
Here and no! cried Gefestion, offended by the loharg, offended by himself. Resentment cleared his mind. He quickly unfastened the buckle and handed it to the prince:
- Here. Hold on.
Alexander looked at the thing incredulously.
- Why?
- I give it to you. Just! Even if you think it won't happen.
- I don't need it, - he answered quite seriously and calmly looked into Hephaestion's face.
Then Gefestion angrily threw the fibula away. The buckle clattered resentfully against the stone wall and rolled into the orange dust.
They did not have time to say anything more: Aristomachus and some huge, bear-like man in a bright scarlet royal cloak appeared around the corner. His large head was decorated with a shock of disheveled hair, and his face was a terrible scar that deprived him of one eye. Once black, but still disheveled, his beard was now piebald with gray.
Gefestion had no doubts this time: he recognized the Macedonian king at once.
Here he is, sir. - Aristomachus, who seemed not so big and mature next to the king, pointed to Hephaestion.
- BUT! the big man shouted, immediately grabbing the taken aback boy into a stuffy embrace. “The son of my old friend Aminta!”
Miraculously, without breaking Gefestion's bones, he pushed him away from himself and, considering, nodded his head with satisfaction:
- I know! And you grew up, - the king laughed and, painfully hitting Hephaestion with his palms on the shoulders, almost knocked him down. - Remember me? Father brought you so-o-from such a crumb, - Philip exaggeratedly brought his palms together. The king reeked of wine. Gefestion was confused.
- Do you remember my Alexander? - Philip waved his hand in the direction of the silently watching the prince.
Hephaestion cast a desperate glance at the fair-haired boy.
- We were just remembering our meeting, father, - Alexander spoke, keeping a respectful distance from his father, but in response to the call of Hephaestion, forced to come closer.
- Ah, - roared Philip, raking up both of them now. - That is great! You need to make friends, because now you are together for a long time.
Alexander wriggled out of his drunken embrace. And Hephaestion suddenly realized that Alexander was embarrassed for his father's behavior. Hephaestion himself felt embarrassed for the fact that he caused this. His head was spinning. Praise be to Zeus, Philip did not show his tender feelings for long and soon retired with an unsteady gait.
Aristomachus, serious, again turned into a commander, quickly whispered his instructions to Gefestion:
- Now listen to the prince. If anything, tell the servants that you want to see me, and I will arrange everything. Good?
- All right, - not at all sure of this, and again feeling a surge of anguish, Gefestion responded.
***
Late in the evening, lying in a hard, uncomfortable bed, Hephaestion anxiously thought about everything that had happened during this long day.
From the round dance of faces, the confusion of names, his head swelled up. Not all of Alexander's future comrades had yet arrived from their estates. There were only those who lived in Pele itself or in the vicinity, like Hephaestion.
He tried to make a chain of faces from memory, comparing them with names. Of course, those with whom I now had to share shelter and cares were most worried, of course.
The first, of course, is Ptolemy. Strangely adult, with his clumsy gait, for some reason he reminded Hephaestion of the king. And, it seems, Alexander has known him for the longest time.
The second is a thin Philota with a frightened look. Completely incomprehensible.
The third person he was introduced to was Cassander. He, like Hephaestion, wore an unfashionable now long hairstyle, and seemed too arrogant, as if he was the prince, and not Alexander, and everyone gathered here for him. He kept to himself and did not seem to say a word all day.
And finally, Crater. Hephaestion has not yet understood his feelings towards him. He was handsome, tall, well built, and reached the age of an ephebe. By the way he behaved, his superiority of the “adult” over inexperienced boys was guessed. And, as Gefestion noted, everyone, except, perhaps, Kassandra looked at Krater with his mouth open. With the prince, however, Krater behaved very respectfully, if not fawning over him. This puzzled Gefestion: he had never met so many contradictions in one person. Krater met Hephaestion himself with a crooked smile: he looked at his old, albeit finely made, chiton, of course, noticing traces of punishment, like Alexander, but in contrast to that, only sarcastically grunting at the same time. Gefestion decided that next to him one should always be on the alert.
Be that as it may, Hephaestion could not even imagine which of these boys would become his true friend. Of course, it would be best to make friends with Alexander himself. He alone seemed somehow - real, Hephaestion could not think of another word. Will he just want to?
The others have not yet been trusted.
Hephaestion buried himself in the pillow and tried to sleep.
But it seems that this night it was even worse for someone than him, because in the complete silence of the room, where even cries from the noisy part of the king could not be heard, Gefestion distinctly heard sobs and sniffing. I immediately remembered Dimas.
Hephaestion lay down for a while, listening, then quietly slipped out of his bed.
The sobs came from the next bed. There, with his head covered with a sheet, lay a little boy, whose name Gefestion did not know, because he was brought right before going to bed. But Hephaestion remembered his very dark tan and tangled resin curls.
The poor fellow must be having a hard time if he can't even sleep.
Gefestion squatted down in front of the boy trembling in sobs and gently touched his shoulder:
- Hey, what are you doing?
From under the covers appeared one eye wet with tears and a swollen nose.
- What is your name?
“Nearchus,” the boy replied with a sob.
- And I'm Hephaestion, - he whispered and he smiled into the darkness. “I also just arrived today. What are you crying about?
“I want to go home,” Nearchus whined plaintively.
- Me too, but I'm not crying, - Hephaestion felt that the boy was beginning to calm down, apparently feeling that he was no longer alone.
- Now, wait, - Gefestion darted back to his bed and fished out a clay ball of Demas from under the pillow.
- Hold on, don't cry.
The ball disappeared into the boy's tenacious fingers. Gefestion stroked Nearchus on the head, as he would have stroked his younger brother.
- Come on, try to sleep. And don't be afraid, I'll be there.
- Thank you, - the boy whispered, and sobbed again at the end, obediently closing his eyes.
When Hephaestion closed his eyes, for some reason he saw a crow. So he didn't ride it! But they already found mutual language with this wild stubborn. Hephaestion knew that the stallion would not let anyone close, no matter how much you beat him with a belt whip. Only worse!
He's the same as me, - thought Gefestion, falling asleep. - The same scars on the ass, and the same desire for freedom.
Chapter 2
The sea smelled of salt and something else unfamiliar. Hephaestion, ignoring the red stripes on his ass, stretched out on the hot sand and stared dreamily at the distant horizon. Sand trickled through his fingers in a spore stream and formed two mounds right in front of his nose. The sand also smelled of something. How? He did not have time to think: dry spray shot up from under someone's tanned legs and powdered his eyes, stuffed into his mouth. He sat up, spitting and cursing at the two idiots who ran, almost stepping on him, towards the water.
Crater - he learned that he had broken his mounds. The second was Ptolemy. They laughed merrily, raising clouds of spray in the water. With watery eyes, Gefestion saw how Krater on the run pushed Kassandra, who was ceremoniously entering the water. He absurdly waved his arms and barely stood on his feet, looking with hatred after the offenders diving into the waves.
The teachers, who were sitting a little further away, just shook their heads. And then they again turned their gaze into the distance, to where two sailed - the youngest of the pupils - Nearh and Tsarevich Alexander.
Hephaestion saw their heads resembling dots: a dark one in front and a light one lagging behind it. How he would like to be there! And it’s not shameful to wallow here on the sand, ashamed to admit that by the age of thirteen he had not learned to swim. Where was he? In their area, the rivers look like streams - even the geese have nowhere to really swim. And at the sea, although it is not so far away, Gefestion has been only a couple of times, no more. I wonder if Aristomachus can swim? He comes from the same places as Hephaestion. Surely he can. Hephaestion simply could not imagine a strong and dexterous warrior fearfully backing away from the water. He must be as good a swimmer as a Cretan, as a true hero should be.
Crater and Ptolemy began to catch up with the prince and Nearchus, but soon turned back, seeing that Alexander was returning.
Nearchus, it seems, got carried away. And both educators jumped up anxiously, anxiously watching the receding head, until one of them could not stand it and, folding his hands near his mouth, shouted, calling the boy back.
On the prince, who came out of the water, the slave hastily threw a piece of cloth, soaking his sensitive light skin. But Alexander angrily waved it off and, remaining naked, like the others, began to look from under his arm at Nearchus.
The boy finally turned back too. When the small swarthy figure appeared on the shore, both teachers fell upon him with reproaches. He frowned like a little sparrow, but remained silent.
Why didn't you swim? - Nearchus, still disheveled after the beating, plopped down next to Hephaestion and immediately buried himself in the hot sand.
- I don't feel like it, - Gefestion responded, continuing to pour grains of sand from one pile to another.
- Can't swim? the younger suggested.
- I don't know how, - Gefestion confessed, blushing.
- What are you? - Niarch's eyes became huge, and Hephaestion again thought about Demas: if only his younger brother would come here.
- Where was I to study? There is no sea in our area.
- Do you want me to teach you? - Seriously suggested Nearchus.
Gefestion shivered: and how, I wonder, it will look like? The little one teaches the big one. Yes, he will be laughed at. But the desire to sail someday no worse than Alexander, nevertheless prevailed.
- Let's go to?
"Let's go," he said resolutely. Let them laugh! Let's see what they say when he swims in a race with the Cretan Nearchus.
You're doing something wrong, - Nearchus shook his head. In the role of a teacher, he felt equal to Hephaestion: - Look, your body is bent in the water, here ... -
With his palm, he made a semblance of a capital gamma. - You are all compressed, and therefore the waves carry you inside. And you have to arch your back like this...
He straightened his palm like a taut string, even slightly arching his fingers.
- Keep your chin up and rake as if you don't have hands, but fins. Do not pull your legs towards you. Like this. Excellent!
Hephaestion caught sight of Alexander, who was watching them attentively. He sat upstairs, drying on the sand, obeying the requirements of the teachers. But it was clear that he wanted to swim more.
- You see, everything is simple: you need to feel how the water holds you, - Nearchus swam around the floundering Hephaestion, like a sea animal, playing in the water with an obedient body, turning over on his back and casually raking all four limbs: - Then you can swim at least all day and all all night long.
Yes, where! Despite being in the water for only a short time, Hephaestion seems to be sweating from the effort. He wanted to take a breath, but his legs did not find the bottom. With a fright, he almost went under the water.
- Hey-hey! - the sonorous voice of Nearch was heard near the ear. - Do not try to drown now that you have learned to swim! He laughed and nudged him a little. Hephaestion, having managed to choke on the bitter warm water somehow made it to shore.
Hands and feet trembled unaccustomed. But he was absolutely happy: he had learned to swim! Hey! My heart was pounding.
- And you catch on quickly, - Alexander praised him when they returned to Pella. And respect shone in the prince's eyes.
Chapter 3. Aristotle.
Just look what a peacock! - snorted Perdikka, who was the first to see the approaching wagons, on which the philosopher arrived in Mieza - their main teacher, invited by King Philip.
The boys, pushing, huddled in the window opening. Everyone wanted to personally see the famous Aristotle. Hephaestion, whose bed was closer to the window and therefore managed to take the best place, stepped aside a little, letting the younger ones go forward - the nimble Nearchus and his new comrade Seleucus.
The philosopher - a middle-aged man, not of the most fragile physique - indeed, was dressed too beautifully, if not smartly: in a blue himation with gold embroidery along the edge and a thin snow-white chiton. Sparse hair laid in small curls brown hair crowned with rich braid. Rings gleamed on her fingers, bracelets on her wrists. Even the straps of his sandals seem to have been gilded.
The servants began to carry his numerous possessions to the teacher's house.
“It is not proper for a philosopher to travel light,” Krater winked at Ptolemy, and they both burst out laughing.
The younger boys giggled as the clumsy slave had scattered some scrolls on the ground and was now hurriedly trying to collect them. They slipped out of his hands again and again, barely more than he could hold with one hand and chin. But he didn't give up.
Hephaestion's mouth also stretched into a smile. Only Cassander, whose proud profile always flaunted a little apart from the rest, watched without any emotion.
Aristotle, hearing, apparently, extraneous sounds, turned around. The boys clattered from the window. Gefestion, hesitated, remained. And Aristotle beckoned him with his finger.
“Help this unfortunate man to collect books,” the philosopher pointed to the wet servant.
Hephaestion deftly picked up the scrolls and helped carry them to a spacious room, apparently reserved for the philosopher's office.
There were so many different things that Gefestion opened his mouth in amazement. Stuffed birds and small animals, dried fish and beautiful butterflies. Herbarium. Some shiny new measuring instruments. And a lot of books. Did he read all of this?
- Interesting? - a hand in sparkling rings lay on the shoulder of Hephaestion. And the boy felt the aroma of expensive oils emanating from Aristotle. It was strange: Hephaestion had never met men who smelled like women. And whose nails were just as well groomed. Even on your feet!
So many books, - Gefestion muttered confusedly.
“Yes,” the teacher smiled smugly. This is only a small part of what I was able to bring with me. For now.
- Have you read them all?
- Have you read it? - Aristotle smiled slyly. - These are the ones I wrote myself, - he pointed to the pile of scrolls - the very ones that Hephaestion helped to carry.
Oh, was all he could say.
- What is your name?
- Hephaestion, son of Amyntor.
- Yeah, - Aristotle raised his eyebrows and nodded: - I used to take you for Alexander, the king's son.
Hephaestion was embarrassed, feeling his ears turn red. Although he was confused, but it was not so unpleasant.
- However, I saw him only once and briefly, so it is not surprising to be mistaken. Well, go, Hephaestion, son of Amyntor. Tell them we'll start studying right after lunch.
***
- Who can tell me how one word can be called each of you? - Aristotle, not allowing them to come to their senses and swallow their chuckles, immediately set to work.
"Apprentice," Crater found himself, while the others were at a loss.
- Your name? Aristotle glanced sideways at him.
“Krater, son of Alexander,” he said proudly.
- Well, Crater, son of Alexander. Someday, perhaps, I will be able to call you that. But so far it's unlikely. Look at your comrades. Some of them are busy with their own business. They don't care about studying. And he pointed to Nearchus and Seleucus, who were enthusiastically looking at the captured beetle. Noticing that everyone was watching, Nearchus nudged Seleucus with his elbow, and both immediately sat down on the string, trying to figure out what they had missed.
- So, any other opinions? Aristotle smiled slyly.
- Greek, - Gefestion dared to say.
- Well, Hephaestion, son of Amyntor, - Aristotle repeated the full names, as if carefully writing them down in his memory.
- What can you say about him? - he pointed to the big man Lysimachus, whose mother was from Egypt, and therefore an admixture of foreign blood was clearly discerned in his features.
Hephaestion did not take this into account, and therefore he was embarrassedly silent.
- Well, let's say the one who speaks Greek from birth, we will consider a Greek, - Aristotle patted Hephaestion on the shoulder. “Though it’s a little strange, isn’t it?” After all, each of you probably noticed that people in different parts of the world speak a little differently?
Hephaestion remembered how Alexander's Macedonian reprimand cut his ears - there, in the yard in Pella. He himself had already lost the habit of speaking like that, for his father was very careful that his children mastered the "correct" language, and such a free use of the "village dialect" by Alexander surprised him greatly.
- Your name? Aristotle turned to the embarrassed young man.
- Lysimachus, son of Agathocles.
- What about your mother's name? the philosopher asked, peering into the ugly face of the young man.
- Sati, - Lysimachus hid his eyes. He did not like to talk about his mother, always feeling because of her that he was not like the others.
“A native of the country of Ta-Kemi, otherwise an Egyptian,” Aristotle nodded, confirming his own assumptions.
Who else will try? – Philosopher glanced at the subdued boys. Now no one was laughing, forgetting about the absurd appearance of the teacher: everyone was thinking hard.
- You? - Aristotle stopped in front of the prince, seeing that some answer had ripened in his head.
- Human.
Aristotle raised his eyebrows thoughtfully, tilting his head to one side and as if demanding clarification.
- Each of us is a person, - Alexander's voice sounded confident, even if he was worried.
- What makes you, for example, call yourself that? the soft voice of the teacher sounded, encouraging the boy to further reasoning.
- Well…, - Alexander hesitated a little, and Gefestion terribly wanted to come to his aid, if he suddenly didn't know what to say, but he didn't dare, of course, to intervene.
I don't have paws, but arms and legs. I have hair, but not fur. They prepare food for me, although I could certainly eat raw meat, especially if I was very hungry, - he smiled mischievously, and cautious chuckles swept through a number of boys. Aristotle nodded his head: continue.
- But the most important thing is that I am accustomed to think not only about how to get food. I want to know about everything in the world. Why does the sun shine during the day, but at night there are stars in the sky. Who lives there - behind the most distant mountains. And how they live. Why winter comes, and is there anything smaller than a grain of sand that we can see with the eye.
He got carried away and his cheeks flushed. The boys sat silently.
- Bravo, Alexander, son of Philip, - Aristotle threw up his hands, clapping silently. He nevertheless recognized him, thought Gefestion.
- Exactly. You caught the very essence - Aristotle, it seems, himself was inspired by the speech of the prince. “Even if someone has not yet asked himself such questions,” he looked sideways at the restless kids again, “his mind will certainly tell him hundreds of these and others. And he will look for answers to them. We will find some together with you, for why open what is already open? But most of it will remain an unsolved mystery. And to find answers - how to know? – how far some of you will be willing to go. Where is he - the edge of the Oikumene?
Aristotle's gaze rushed into the invisible distance. And Alexander - Hephaestion clearly saw this - rushed to the same place after the teacher.
How interesting all this is, thought Gefestion, with his heart pounding in anticipation of discoveries. And it's great that I'm still here, in Miez ....
In the silence of the boys' bedroom, separate from the chambers of the prince, forced to live with a servant who controlled his every step, Hephaestion heard muffled voices. It seems that Crater and Perdikkas were talking.
- He likes boys. Strange that he didn't bring anyone with him.
- Maybe he decided to find someone suitable here?
The speakers chuckled. Gefestion guessed: we are talking about the philosopher.
- What do you think? Did he have his eye on this proud man, Hephaestion? Something painfully he is affectionate with him.
This was said by Krater and Hephaestion promised himself that he would not forget these words.
- Or maybe Alexander? said Perdiccas, laughing.
- Shh… Shut up, - Crater interrupted him somehow too sharply. Hephaestion could see how he was now looking around to see if anyone had heard. It looks like everyone is already asleep. These two also settled down.
Hephaestion put his fist under his cheek and thought: Aristotle did not seem too mannered, despite his outfit and pampered appearance. Well, yes, there are those who are not interested in women at all. He had heard of it, but had never seen it before. What if the teacher really begins to give Hephaestion too persistent signs of attention? He didn't want that at all. And for some reason, a picture surfaced: after class, dismissing the students, Aristotle talked with Alexander for a long time, decorously walking with him along the freshly poured path of the garden, putting his hand on the prince's shoulder. No. Can't be. Those two are stupid. Gefestion has sighed and, having turned on other side, has denser wrapped up in a blanket.
Chapter 4
I’m telling you exactly, Crater heard it himself, - Seleucus and Nearchus were again whispering about something, sitting on a large stone they had chosen near the playing field. The rest of the boys, the older ones, made a fuss, like wrestling. Krater, Perdikkas, and Ptolemy, all dirty as devils and no longer distinguishable from each other, rolled in the dust, bawling and cursing like peasants. Cassander, standing at a distance in the shade of the trees, watched them with contempt. His brand new tunic was snow-white, with a beautiful border, and he, of course, did not want to be spoiled by these bumpkins who called him to join.
Have you seen the prince? - Hephaestion asked, also deciding not to get involved in a bunch for the time being, and sitting down to the younger ones.
“No, they didn’t,” Nearchus replied. “But they saw the messenger with the mail. Maybe he brought letters to Alexander?
- Well, - Seleucus impatiently nudged his friend with his elbow: - this is the same cane with a large red knob. He never parted with her.
- What are we talking about? Snorting like a tired bull, Ptolemy plopped down next to them and almost knocked all three off their stone seat.
- They say that Aristotle has a stiletto hidden in his cane. In order to defend against an attack in which case, - said Nearh.
Ptolemy and Hephaestion raised their eyebrows in surprise. Ptolemy even forgot that he was going to rush again to the rescue of Perdiccas, who had a hard time without him.
“It was Krater who said it,” Seleucus flashed his eyes. - He said that the handle is separated from the cane itself and a sharp blade is embedded in it. And that Aristotle had already once fought them with bandits who attacked him at night.
- Less need to eavesdrop on adult conversations, - Ptolemy grunted and smeared the kid on the cheek with a soiled five, which left five dark gray stripes on the boy's reddened skin.
Ignoring this, Seleucus exclaimed:
- I'm sure it's true! I have heard of these canes.
- Me too. I wish I could look at her,” Nearh drawled thoughtfully.
- I would also look, - Ptolemy scratched his chin.
- And what is the difficulty? Do you want me to bring it? - unexpectedly for himself suggested Gefestion. It was very pleasant when the admiring eyes of Nearchus and Seleucus opened wide, and the adult Ptolemy looked at him with respect.
Well, who is always pulling his tongue, if not impudent Hermes?! Only for some reason the spanking then always goes to him, and not to the fervently smiling half-sighted stone idol. Even here, in Mieza, he haunts Hephaestion. “But I haven't forgiven you for that story with the buckle yet,” thought Gefestion, examining the entrance to the philosopher's dwelling.
There were no servants to be seen. The philosopher himself too. It only remained to check whether Aristotle's favorite cane was still in place. Hephaestion slid into the familiar room with a habitual movement. Now there was perfect order. The scrolls were arranged neatly on the shelves. There was a beautiful writing set on the table and a blank sheet of papyrus was pressed down with a special press. rough work. Hephaestion was in awe when he presented the philosopher here at work. There was no doubt that the teacher was very wise. Here are just a cane and a stiletto?.. Hephaestion remembered graceful wrists and hands in rings. Can these be defended? Most likely, all this is empty conjecture. But be that as it may, he made a promise. And he will bring that cane, no matter what the cost!
He looked around, and noticed it in a wicker vase in the corner, near the door itself. The cane was heavy, though very fragile in appearance. The polished garnet knob fit comfortably in the boy's small palm. Nice little thing. He did not check to see if the handle separated from the cane, for he was afraid that he would be caught at the scene of the crime, and therefore quickly slipped out and, unnoticed by anyone, rushed back to the platform.
Oh-oh-oh, - only Nearchus could admiringly stretch out, taking the weighty cane of the philosopher in his hands. Seleucus impatiently grasped the pomegranate knob immediately. Ptolemy embraced Hephaestion, who sat down next to him, and patted him on the shoulder:
- You're smart, though.
- Well, what is there? - Hephaestion, still looking around to see if anyone from the elders, also looked with curiosity at the kids, unsuccessfully trying to cope with the cane.
- Come on, give it here, - Ptolemy took away the toy from the boys and began to turn it in his hands, examining the handle: - it does not seem that something is separated here.
- What do you have? Krater looked down on them, and the rest of the brawlers stood next to him.
- Hephaestion got hold of Aristotle's cane. Which of you said that a stiletto is hidden in it? Ptolemy squinted at Crater, narrowing his eyes.
He rubbed his neck and exchanged glances with Perdiccas, then held out his dusty hand.
- Let me find it.
Ptolemy handed over the stick. Krater tried to turn the knob, poked at the stone of the handle, then tugged at it. The cane didn't budge. He pressed the stone, looking for a secret, and shook the cane, but it was all to no avail.
- Well, you feel that it is too heavy for a simple piece of wood. There is definitely something inside.
- Okay, let me try, - Ptolemy wanted to take the stick back, but Krater was in no hurry to return it, playfully clutching the handle and teasing the strong Ptolemy. He, angry, pulled harder, Crater rested. The next moment there was a threatening crack and the stick, breaking in two, remained in the hands of both. Everyone gasped: the precious cane of the philosopher was broken. There was no stiletto inside. But the philosopher himself, together with Alexander, stood near them and looked in surprise at the wreckage. Krater hurriedly dropped the remnants of his cane. And Ptolemy remained sitting with a fragment in his hands.
Excellent! exclaimed the philosopher, clasping his hands. “And who will try to explain to me what is going on here?”
There was dead silence. Ptolemy, all crimson, got up, picked up the fragment dropped by Krater, and hesitantly handed it to the philosopher.
He took the remains of his cane in bewilderment and stared at the guys:
- What it is? Where did you get it?
Receiving no response, he furrowed his brows.
No one has the guts to confess? Who stole my cane?
Gefestion, barely alive from the anticipation of a new flogging, took a step forward:
- I took it, teacher.
“Excellent,” Aristotle grunted, only briefly glancing at him and immediately turning to the others:
- Do you not have enough activities in the palestra? See who you look like. March to wash and change, because in such an untidy form I will not allow anyone to my lesson. Does everyone understand?
Ptolemy, Crater, and the rest of the wrestlers to whom this remark referred, muttered something, avoiding to look the philosopher in the eye. And he turned around, clutching the remnants of the cane under his arm, and firmly taking Hephaestion by the shoulder: "Let's go," he went to his house.
Hephaestion, who was being followed by silently sympathetic glances, for some reason only had one question now in his head: “Will he flog himself, or will he entrust his servants?” There was no doubt that Aristotle would not forgive him for breaking his cane.
Sit down, - Aristotle seated the confused boy on a chair near the table with papyrus. And he himself, turning the fragments, shook his head and neatly folded them on the clothes chest.
Hephaestion looked around for rods or something that could serve as an instrument of punishment, but found nothing of the sort. So, they won't flog here, - he sighed, coming to a disappointing conclusion. For some reason, it seemed less shameful if Aristotle had punished him himself, and not the servants, and even in front of the rest. The fact that both Ptolemy and Crater deserve punishment, for some reason, did not come to mind.
So you stole my cane? - Aristotle tilted his head to one side, now stood near the table and crossed his arms over his chest, he examined Hephaestion with interest, as he would probably consider an unknown insect.
Gefestion lowered his head, burning with shame. He didn't even have time to come up with an excuse!
- Why did you need it, you will not say?
“I…we…just wanted to see.
- That's how? Didn't you have enough eyes for that? Or did you certainly want to see what she has inside?
- Yes, - Hephaestion nodded contritely, feeling the absurdity of the situation. Aristotle chuckled.
- And what are the results of the study, in addition to the fact that the thing is damaged? Was the experience worth the risk?
- No, - Gefestion whispered, barely holding back hateful tears. When will he learn not to cry at the crucial moment?!
What were you hoping to find there?
Gefestion shrugged his shoulders and squeezed out of himself:
- The boys said ... there should be a stiletto ...
- What? - Aristotle even jumped up and stared at the student with even greater interest.
- They said that the stiletto was hidden in the cane. For defense...
Aristotle laughed, and Hephaestion once again promised himself that if he got out this time, he would not be such an idiot again.
Aristotle laughed to tears. Then he wiped his eyes and said in a thin voice with laughter:
- You made me laugh so much that I, perhaps, will forgive you your naivety. Oh, those boys, - he laughed again.
“And who do you think I should be afraid of here?”
Gefestion shrugged again.
- Well, since I can’t leave you completely without punishment, you’ll excuse me, I came up with something for you ...
He pulled several heavy scrolls from the shelf.
“Here, rewrite for me what I tell you.” This will be useful to us for practice. Get started immediately. And I beg you: try, because everything must be written very carefully. I don't want to make you redo the work several times. Because, - Aristotle looked out the window with a smile, - the weather is so beautiful outside and the boys are already waiting for you.
He patted Gefestion on the shoulder, gave him instructions, and seeing that he had set to work, left.
Gefestion had to rewrite pieces of some philosophical treatise. Hephaestion did not understand some words at all, but he tried to carefully draw the letters and soon got so carried away with work that he did not notice that there was not one in the room.
What are you writing? Alexander bent over the scroll.
Hephaestion even jumped up and quickly looked around to see if anyone had noticed that the prince was here. But they were alone.
- The teacher gave me a punishment to rewrite my work.
- This is not his, it looks like Plato, - Alexander took the scroll and, wrinkling his eyebrows, read the title.
- How do you know?
- No matter. I just think it's unfair that you're the only one being punished. Of course, you stole the cane, but Crater and Ptolemy broke it. And they seemed to have nothing to do with it.
- You saw it all?
- Yes. Why did you need her?
- We thought it was a stiletto.
- What?
“Krater said there was a weapon hidden in the handle. And that Aristotle, if attacked, would be able to defend himself.
- And ... are you talking about that case? When he and his friend were attacked at night after one symposium. I don't think the teacher actually killed anyone, as they say. However, he still has a scar from that meeting.
Hephaestion looked at the prince with wide eyes:
- Killed? Scar?
- Well, yes, right here, on the wrist. He usually covers it with a bracelet. But if you look closely, you can see.
Hephaestion made a promise to himself to look at Aristotle's hand at the first opportunity.
- Do you want me to help you rewrite it?
- Do you think it's possible?
- Why not? You have to do the job, right?
- Yes ... but what if Aristotle wants me to do everything myself?
- Nonsense. Come on, show me what you need.
Nobody bothered them until they finished writing. After comparing the manuscripts, they stared at each other in amazement.
- Do you notice anything? Alexander said.
- We have the same handwriting, - Gefestion smiled dumbfounded. And he was always proud of his impeccable letters, for which his teachers praised him so much.
Alexander shrugged in response.
“Maybe someday it will come in handy.”
Chapter 5. Rivalry.
Hephaestion, could not concentrate on what Aristotle was saying. Looking at the sandal marks of the philosopher in the sand, he reflected on the morning duel. It seems that today in the palestra, he made a big mistake. He was among the students who were about a match for the prince. Ptolemy, Perdiccas and Crater were older and had a clear advantage, their teacher, of course, could not pair with Alexander. Nearchus and Seleucus were still babies, who were not allowed to reach the palestra. So, today, for the first time, Hephaestion was called to Alexandra. And he, in the simplicity of his soul, knowing that he usually defeats his rivals, gathered all his strength and promised himself not to give in for anything. And so it happened. He had a clear advantage over Alexander when the teacher pulled them apart, still heated by the struggle and kicking in the heat of the duel, which turned into a fight, and Hephaestion noticed that blood was running from the nose of the prince. Hephaestion himself was also now hurting his cheekbone and his ankles were scratched. The teacher was not pleased. And Alexander, it seems, was very offended by him, because now he sat down on the opposite bench, which had never happened before.
Should I have given in? Here's another! It's not fair! For that and training sessions to identify who is stronger and think about what to do for someone who is still weak.
As if reading his thoughts, Cassander, whom Alexander laid on the sand in two counts yesterday, looked at Hephaestion with a grin. The rest of the boys looked at him too. As did Aristotle, who tapped the pomegranate knob of a repaired cane on his palm.
"So, I suppose you were so distracted that you didn't hear the question, my dear?" – devils danced in the eyes of Aristotle.
- Excuse me, teacher, - Hephaestion blushed embarrassedly.
We're talking about theft here. And how justified it is to appropriate someone else's wealth, being the winner in the war.
Hephaestion even opened his mouth: wow, that's the topic! Now it is clear why everyone looks at him with such malice. He stole the cane. For some reason, it was embarrassing.
I wonder what Alexander thinks about this? There, in the teacher's room, when they copied the manuscript, the prince did not say a word about the deed. In general, to be honest, Hephaestion himself considered it rather a valor - to get a trophy - rather than something unseemly.
- Well, how about ... - he began, stammering, - ... everyone always brings trophies from the war. Why else would there be a war?
- Bravo! - Aristotle laughed, and all the boys supported him, rolling with laughter. And Gefestion, annoyed and not understanding what was wrong, sat down in his place. Alexander didn't laugh. On the contrary, he was very serious, and this laughter seemed to irritate him.
Aristotle laughed and wiped away his tears. Then, true to his habit, he examined the guys:
Who else wants to say?
“I don’t think that taking what was won is the same as stealing,” Alexander said.
Aristotle looked at him very carefully and everyone fell silent.
“You can’t even compare,” the prince’s voice sounded loud.
- What is different? Both the thief and the victorious warrior take what does not belong to him.
- The thief drags for profit, secretly. The warrior comes with an open face and lays claim to his rights.
- These are just tricks, the robber also sometimes does not hide his face, but the essence of the action is to appropriate what does not belong to you, isn't it the same thing?
Alexander furrowed his eyebrows. The question was very difficult. And it seemed that Aristotle himself did not know the answer to it. At least he didn't rush to help the students by perplexing them.
- Okay, today you have something to think about. And tomorrow we may return to this issue. You can rest.
The boys - who skipped, not hiding their relief, who are still in thought over the question posed, dispersed from the classroom.
Aristotle went up to Hephaestion and put a light hand on his shoulder. It was not the first time that Gefestion was surprised that the hand of an elderly man could be so tender and soft. And again cast an involuntary glance at the scars that Alexander spoke of. I'll have to gather my courage somehow and ask the teacher about them.
- Can you share what you thought so intensely that even my words were not so interesting to you?
Gefestion was confused. But the look of the philosopher was calm: it seems that he was not ironic at all this time.
Tell me, teacher, that we were gathered here to keep the prince company, right? Can't he study alone?
- Well, let's say - Aristotle did not yet understand what he was getting at.
- Does this mean that we all have to yield to him?
I don't understand, please explain. What exactly? Are you talking about something specific?
Aristotle noticed, of course, that between Alexander and Hephaestion, like a cat ran. And it seemed to him that they began to get a friendship.
And Gefestion told about what worried him so much. About the morning duel and about the insult of Alexander. And that the rest of the boys seem to succumb to him.
The philosopher listened without interrupting, then, very seriously, looking straight into his face, answered:
I think you did the right thing by not giving in. This is the only way to act in small things, of course, remembering that before you is your future ruler and commander. But he, too, must know that someone can be stronger in something and strive to surpass not through your flattering concessions, but by improving himself. This is very valuable. Alexander, as far as I managed to find out, is very clever. And, I think, even if he was angry, then rather at himself. You'll see, he'll appreciate you. Now go and use your free time to good use. And think about the question we discussed today.
Gefestion, sighing, thanked the teacher, and wandered after the rest of the students, who had long disappeared from sight.
“I was not mistaken in it,” thought Aristotle, looking after him with a gentle smile. "Here is a worthy confidante for the future Tsar Alexander."
The boys, without waiting for dinner, went to the nearby forest. Cowberries ripened there, and Ptolemy, for the umpteenth time, started a competition - who will pick up the most berries. He himself could not see victory, like his own ears, for a good half of the berries he had collected by the scheduled date usually rested safely in his stomach. But Gefestion succeeded in this, having outstripped both of Alexander's previous times. He didn't show that it bothered him. Yes, Hephaestion understood that where the prince could compete with him, who grew up in the wild and walked for berries for as long as he can remember. But still, it was they and Alexander who turned out to be the main rivals in this competition, oddly enough.
Cassander usually dodged the competition. And now he was calmly lying on the grass, thinking about something and biting the stalk. There was a feeling that since he could not be the first in something, then this work was not at all worthy of his efforts.
Hephaestion was no longer in the mood to compete today either. But, realizing that while talking with the teacher, he fell far behind, and that the boys had already managed to collect more than one handful of crimson berries, Gefestion himself did not notice how he rushed to catch up.
The case was going smoothly. The boys were busy, in general, in one large clearing, trying to rob more bushes, and not let the others capture them.
Alexander's hem was almost full, Gefestion noticed, for some reason he again turned out to be closest to him. On the left, a flushed Nearchus was puffing. His lips were smeared with berries, but in the hem, it seems, there was not even a couple of handfuls. With small hands, he awkwardly grabbed the twigs, but the berries strove to wake up through his fingers. He will be the last again. The thought nearly made the boy cry. And Ptolemy was already giving the signal to end the competition, urging everyone to gather and compare their trophies in the middle of the clearing.
Hephaestion was sure that he managed to recruit if not more than Alexander, then certainly not less than him. But suddenly he stopped, thought a little, and resolutely poured out almost his entire hem to the stunned Nearchus.
- O! Thank you, how are you?
Hephaestion waved his hand.
- I'll do without a wreath this time.
Alexander, who was about to turn to go to the others in the clearing, suddenly stopped too, looked around at both of them, then, to their surprise, came up and also poured out almost all his berries to Nearchus, pushing him:
- Go, Ptolemy is already finishing the calculations.
Flushed with joy, the boy ran to the clearing, trying not to fall and scatter the precious burden.
Hephaestion, with the hem awkwardly clenched in his fist, where there were almost no berries left, looked at Alexander with surprise. The same one, now turning to him, and seeing how stupid he looked, suddenly laughed and, pouring the rest of the berries into the grass, straightened his tunic.
Gefestion, answering him with laughter, did the same. The boys really looked funny, clumsily rushing through the forest with their fists near their stomachs. After laughing, Gefestion suddenly turned serious and approached Alexander:
- I wanted to tell you...
He broke off, stumbled upon the attentive look of gray with a mark of eyes. But stubbornly biting his lips, he nevertheless decided:
- I'm sorry, I had to give in to you. This morning, in the palestra.
- You don't owe anything! - Alexander's voice sounded very loud again. As always, when he is angry or agitated, - thought Hephaestion, who was already beginning to learn the customs of Alexander.
***
- Well, so who found the answer to the question posed yesterday? And by the way, remember the question.
Aristotle, hiding a smile in the corners of his eyes, noted that these two - the prince and the blue-eyed Hephaestion - nevertheless reconciled and now again sit hand in hand.
- May I, teacher? Nearchus jumped up like a playful kitten.
- Well, try, - Aristotle sat down on his bench, placing his chin on top of his hands, crossed on the head of the cane.
- We were thinking about whether it is theft, to appropriate the spoils of war?
Aristotle nodded. The kid articulated the idea well.
So, I don't think it's theft. Because... let them learn to protect what belongs to them! Then no one will steal from them.
Apparently, the stock of eloquence of Nearchus was only enough to formulate the question.
The boys and Aristotle laughed again, because Nearchus, voluntarily or involuntarily, copied the manner of Hephaestion when he answered the same way yesterday. Everyone roared, individual voices broke through in the general rumble, but on the whole confusion arose. Aristotle calmly waited for them to shout, occasionally inserting phrases.
“In your opinion, teacher, it turns out that a soldier and a thief are one and the same,” Crater exclaimed indignantly.
- Prove to me that it's not. I just want to get arguments.
“No stealing, because the winner is always right,” Cassander replied, a little contemptuously, when it was his turn.
We'll argue about that too. In due time.” Aristotle turned to Alexander.
- You put the question incorrectly, teacher, - said Alexander. And everyone fell silent, waiting for Aristotle's reaction to such audacity.
Alexander, stubbornly sticking out his chin, stood in front of the philosopher and spoke:
It is wrong from the very beginning to raise the question of war as theft. They're incomparable, like--like the sea and the barking of a dog.
Aristotle smiled, encouraging the prince to continue.
- It is unfair to blame a warrior for coming and taking someone else's, because this is a reward for his work. Unless of course ... - Alexander thought for a moment, doubting for some reason: - unless of course, the war is fair, and not a barbarian raid, which is always akin to robbery. I personally condemn this. My warriors will not be pathetic thieves. When we come with a sword to the conquered lands, we will not become like barbarians and plunder everything that lies badly.
Aristotle rose, indicating that he considered the argument over.
- See how many threads can be drawn from one question. Talking about an unseemly act - in this case about theft - which is a manifestation of one of the dark sides of the personality, indicating that a person has not yet found the golden mean in his self-improvement, we have come to such difficult topic like war and the ethical issues that go with it. I think we'll stop there for now. But the main thing that you all must understand for yourself is: do not get tired of thinking. Ask questions and look for answers. This is the goal of man - in mental activity. Permanent. Whether he is a philosopher or a simple soldier. Then the war will not turn into robbery. And what your enemy could not protect can rightfully be called a trophy. After all, what is war, after all, if not a means to attract new resources in the form of slaves from barbaric, cultureless peoples? Okay, I see I bored you. Let's do something less complicated. For example, let's talk about nature. Who will tell me what kind of berries are found in the local forests?
- Lingonberries! - Nearchus shouted loudly and everyone laughed again.
Chapter 6
They're coming! They're coming! - Nearchus nearly knocked down Alexander and Hephaestion, who were hurrying to the far gates of the school, from where the escort of Tsar Philip had already appeared. Ptolemy managed to catch the boy, thanks to which Nearchus did not plop into the mud in his full dress, but was able to go along with everyone to meet the guests.
At the very gates, having missed the king, Alexander jumped up to a stately horseman with a slightly harsh manly face, and he, grabbing him, seated him in front of him on his black horse. Black Clit. Gefestion already knew him. Somewhere nearby, perhaps Aristomachus? He wasn't wrong. The young loharg was near the senior commander. With a beating heart for some reason, Gefestion stepped towards him and in the next moment, just like the prince, he was sitting in front of the handsome commander on his thin-legged bay horse.
The rest of the boys could only watch with envy. "Just like at home once," thought Gefestion.
King Philip came to see for himself that everything was in order at the school, and all the teachers and servants poured out into the yard, flattered and excited by the visit.
Gefestion, talking quietly with Aristomachus, found out that his father still could not come. But that, it seems, Hephaestion himself will be able to visit his relatives, because they should have a holiday break in their classes.
Philip finally remembered that the school needed constant security. So he took Clitus and me to take a look and decide how to organize everything. Most likely, I will be responsible for this. So we can see each other more often, - Aristomachus hugged the boy by the waist and barely noticeably pressed him to him. Hephaestion froze somewhere inside from such a sudden manifestation of tender feelings. And he was even glad that they finally stopped in the middle of the schoolyard, and Aristomachus put him down.
Alexander, knitting his eyebrows, was still talking about something with Clitus. The snow-white smile of the black-haired commander, right next to Alexander's face, for some reason did not really please Gefestion. Clit is like a well-fed wolf. I wonder what they're talking about? Most likely, Alexander asks his pet for something, not daring to personally turn to his father.
From the arrival of guests in Miese, noisy confusion reigned. There was no talk of classes today. A delicious dinner awaited everyone, and then the boys ran to watch how the new guards were settled.
Hephaestion, who habitually kept his eyes on Alexander, was afraid to miss Aristomachus, feeling that they had not yet managed to talk about everything, but also realizing that the young commander was not at all up to him today. He saw a couple of times and how Philip, affectionately patting Aristomachus on the shoulder, says something to him, and he looks a little defiantly into the king’s face, answers, never smiling, no matter how wide Philip’s smile may be.
Is it true what Alexander said about them? Still, it was hard to fit in the boy's head. "The king gives such buckles to his lovers."
"No, it can not be!" - Hephaestion even shook his head in anger and wanted to rush away so as not to see these two.
Hey Hey! What are you afraid of? - Black Clit caught Hephaestion in his arms.
He smelled of skin ammunition, horse sweat, and something else barely perceptible, just like Aristomachus. But he was taller, and the grip of tenacious fingers was much tougher than that of the junior commander.
Alexander was next to him.
Alexander wants me to beg the king to let him live without his overseer. But since Philip, I think, will not agree to the prince moving into the common quarters with you, he will need someone with whom he would share a room. Alexander would like it to be you. What do you think about that?
Hephaestion rubbed the place on his shoulder, which Clitus's strong fingers had just squeezed, and cringed under the gaze of his piercing dark eyes.
And only then the meaning of what was said came to him. Alexander chose him! Oh Gods! Isn't this a dream?
- Come on? Do you agree? Clit chuckled.
- Of course, - Hephaestion responded, smiling broadly at Alexander, who was puffed up for some reason.
Only later, late in the evening, lying in a new bed and listening to the even breathing of Alexander who fell asleep very quickly, Gefestion realized that for the prince this day was not a holiday, like for the others, but another test. As always happened when Philip was around.
Why is this happening? Why does everyone whom the king loves, except perhaps Black Cleitus, experience some kind of inconvenience being near him? Is it because he has such a high position? And will it ever be so with him and Alexander? After all, the time will come, and the prince, probably, will become king. He certainly won't wear a beard like that. And the rest…. Alexander is still the son of his father. And they have much more similarities than it might seem at first glance. There is something elusive in both of them ... some kind of identical glow or something.
Hephaestion fell asleep. And his mind was confused. In some fragments of impressions, memories of today, he saw the beautiful courageous hands of Aristomachus, stealthily passing a package to Alexander. Hephaestion noticed how Alexander's eyes sparkled at that moment, and how he hurried to hide the parcel from Philip's eyes. Then, already in the evening, in them - now they are with Hephaestion! - the common room, Alexander, after thinking, took out the message and resolutely unfolding it, began to read. Cursing his curiosity, Gefestion could not stand it and asked:
- What is it?
- Letter. From his mother, - Alexander frowned and looked searchingly at Hephaestion, as if again doubting whether he trusted the right person.
- Don't be afraid, I won't tell anyone, - Gefestion promised. And he knew that from now on and forever he would keep every word given to Alexander.
Chapter 7. Virtues and vices.
Hephaestion again learned that something had happened from the crafty Nearchus. He, having flopped down on the hard bed of Hephaestion, looked around with curiosity at the room where the entrance was closed to everyone until now.
Disappointment was read on the face of Nearchus: he did not notice any “special” toys and luxury here, which, apparently, he expected to see. On the contrary: the beds were military-style narrow, the walls were bare, the curtain on the small window even without any embroidery, and the furnishings were very poor. Hephaestion, who found himself here for the first time, was also perplexed: the philosopher's room was furnished much more luxuriously than that of the king's son. However, gradually the unpretentiousness of Alexander became more and more obvious. He felt embarrassed when it turned out that both the comb and the belts given by his mother were much more expensive for him than for his high-born partner.
If you want, take mine, - Gefestion offered on the first day, laying out his belongings.
Alexander did not answer, carried away by reading the letter of Olympias, as if he had not heard his words. But in the morning Hephaestion saw something - either out of absent-mindedness, or on purpose - Alexander took his comb. And Hephaestion was very flattered by this. He would share clothes and shoes if he himself had something extra.
The elders were caught at night gatherings. They say that there were village girls and they were all drunk, - Nearchus crunched with appetite a large red apple prepared for Alexander. Hephaestion did not have time to stop him, and only belatedly waved his hand, sitting down next to him and waiting for the continuation.
It was no secret to anyone that the grown-up guys - Krater, Ptolemy, Perdikka and a few more - took the fashion to disappear somewhere at night. They returned before dark. And sometimes they were so noisy that they woke up not only the boys in the bedroom, but also the deaf night teacher. Gefestion suspected that their sorties were by no means innocent. But they were still almost adults. Perhaps it was already difficult for them to do without it? Not that he envied them. Although, perhaps so.
But a scandal almost broke out a couple of times when Aristotle refused to allow them to study for their "obscene appearance." Indeed, what was it like for him, who was so scrupulous about appearance his students, to see their wrinkled dirty tunics, matted hair and sleepy faces with red eyes like hares? Not to mention the smell of wine, which the sensitive nose of a philosopher suffering from migraine attacks could not stand.
The guards do not let them out of their lodge, where they were taken. And they say that they will now tell the king about everything. What do you think will happen to them? Nearchus stared at him with his huge eyes.
- How do I know, - Hephaestion shrugged his shoulders and immediately thought of Aristomachus. He, as the head of the guard, will have to report to the king about the incident.
Speaking with him last time, Hephaestion was surprised at how upset the young loharg looked. It seems that he was glad to meet Hephaestion, but it seems that something like a heavy stone lay on his soul.
As if he was being punished by having to guard Mieza. Or maybe it was? And something went wrong with him with the king? Gefestion, of course, did not ask him these questions.
I felt his bad mood in my heart, but I could not help. So we talked about nothing. Aristomachus only perked up when Hephaestion informed him that Alexander had chosen him, and that now he shared his shelter with him.
Alexander himself called you? - grey eyes loharga - bright against the background of a tanned face - framed by thick black eyelashes, made Hephaestion lose the thread of the conversation for a moment.
- What? And ... yes, he himself, - he suddenly became embarrassed and blushed, feeling a warm wave pass inside his stomach from this look. And Aristomachus raised his eyebrows suspiciously, then smiled:
- This is good. Your father will be very pleased with you.
Gefestion just shrugged. Home, boys, all past worries seemed to be something so distant and insignificant. And how could he be so worried that he was leaving?
Alexander, as always, busy with his own thoughts, for now he was reading Xenophon and raving about a new hero - Cyrus the Great - scattered scrolls on the bed and, not paying attention to the stub on the plate, only glanced at Nearchus. He hurriedly jumped up and slipped out of the room.
- You heard? – decided to ask Gefestion.
- What? - Alexander looked up from reading only with his eyes, his thoughts were still somewhere far away.
- Ptolemy, Crater and Perdiccas were caught by guards this night. They say that all their tricks will be known in the palace.
Alexander furrowed his brow. The mention of his father's interference always made him uneasy.
What did they do this time?
- I do not know, it seems, nothing new, but they have already been warned.
- Well, rightly so, if so, - Alexander again plunged into reading.
- Will you stay?
The question hung in the air. And Gefestion, of course, could not sit still.
To his surprise, on the threshold he ran into a preoccupied Ptolemy.
- I just went to you, - Ptolemy clumsily jerked his shoulder and looked at Hephaestion a little frowningly.
- Here I am, - said Gefestion. – What do you need?
Have you already been told what happened?
- Yes, Alexander knows everything.
- And what is he?
- Nothing, - Hephaestion shrugged his shoulders: - And what do you expect from him? We, by the way, thought that you were with them.
- No, I had a toothache yesterday. Apparently, the gods were pleased to protect me from trouble in such a strange way, - Ptolemy grinned. - But I'm not talking about that. I went to you, - he repeated. “Do you understand that Crater and Perdikka are in danger of a severe thrashing?” If it comes to the king ... - he sighed contritely and shook his head.
- What can I do? – Gefestion was surprised.
- We thought that you could ask your relative not to go to Pella. Let them punish you here, but just don't tell the king.
- What other relative? - Hephaestion did not understand.
- Well, how? Rumor has it that Loharg is related to you, - Ptolemy shifted awkwardly from foot to foot.
- At all it to me not the relative, - Gefestion has flashed. “He is my countryman and nothing more.
- Well, it doesn't matter, - Ptolemy scratched his head: - Talk to him? Can?
- I can, - Hephaestion nodded, not quite sure that he understands what exactly to talk about with Aristomachus.
I have a clear order regarding this, - Aristomachus crossed his arms, stood up and turned to the window: - I'm afraid there's nothing I can do about it.
Hephaestion, perhaps, for the first time felt such alienation from him. And he didn't know how to proceed. He already regretted that he succumbed to the persuasion of Ptolemy and came here. Aristomach everything recent times was unlike himself.
Hephaestion hesitated, wondering if he should leave now, or would Aristomachus change his mind, or at least say something encouraging? But when he did not turn around, he quietly slipped out the door.
“No,” Gefestion shook his head, noticing Ptolemy and the rest of the guys waiting for him. Those frustrated wandered home.
The next day, Crater and Perdikka were taken to Pella, and they never returned to Mieza. The students walked around silently for a while. And only Alexander, like Aristotle, seems to be the least touched by this story. But this was a misleading impression. Hephaestion began to understand that Alexander did not reveal his soul very easily. And the teacher immediately draws a new lesson from everything.
The human soul, - said the philosopher, - is like this cane.
He placed his famous cane horizontally in his palm, balancing both ends.
- On the one hand - bad inclinations, sensual inclinations and passions, which are the properties of the unreasonable part of the soul. On the other hand, - Aristotle touched the heavy knob on the shorter end of the stick, - virtues are an indicator of the dominance of the mind over the dark half. The task of a person is to find his own golden mean and maintain this balance for as long as possible. Not allowing the vices to develop unnecessarily, for then - he slightly pushed the cane, increasing the "bad end" and dropping the stick - do you see what is happening?
Aristotle raised his cane and looked at the silent disciples.
- But the teacher, - Alexander's sonorous voice was heard: - it turns out that excessive virtue is also harmful? After all, the cane will fall if you move it to the other side?
"That's right," smiled the philosopher. - Although this segment is small in comparison with the unreasonable part, it is inextricably linked with it and does not exist without it. The perfection of man should not consist in giving up desires and passions, but in gaining power over them. And how do we achieve this? Through cognitive activity, that is ...
Gefestion did not listen further. I wonder what is the "cane" of Aristomachus in this scenario? How great are his virtues? And in general, what is happening? He hadn't seen a loharg for a long time. Almost ever since I spoke to him at the request of Ptolemy. And this worried him now more than all the teacher's scientific reasoning.
Alexander the Great was undoubtedly a great commander, but he could hardly defeat the huge Persian power, and then reach Northwestern India, without friends and associates. Among the prominent associates of Alexander, historians most often name Ptolemy, Parmenion, Antigonus, Clitus, Crater and, of course, Hephaestion. In the historical literature there is an ambiguous assessment of the activities and personality of Alexander, but the attitude towards his closest friend and colleague - Hephaestion, one might say, does not cause heated debate. All sources and researchers describe Hephaestion as a close friend of Alexander, unquestioningly fulfilling the will of his king. Nevertheless, the attitude towards Hephaestion, in our opinion, cannot be so simplified and unambiguous. It is possible that Alexander considered his close friend a possible successor, capable of continuing his work in the event of death.
Hephaestion, the son of Amyntor, came from a noble Macedonian family. According to documents, he was the same age as Alexander; they may have known each other even before learning from Aristotle. Curtius Rufus writes that "he was the most beloved of the king's friends, who grew up with him, the confidant of all his secrets." Hephaestion very early took a special position under Alexander and kept it until last days. He remained close to the future king even when Philip, dissatisfied with his son's secret negotiations about a marriage contract with the satrap of Caria Pixodar, expelled many of his friends from the country.
During the campaign in Asia, the position of Hephaestion steadily grew: starting the campaign only as a personal friend of the king, he became his indispensable companion. In the first years of a long journey through the expanses of Asia, we do not meet our hero among the highest command staff: this place is occupied by others - Parmenion, Philotas, Cleitus and others. At this stage, Hephaestion and Alexander were connected, apparently, only by strong friendly relations. It is possible that Alexander, who adored Homer and tried to imitate Achilles in everything, saw in Hephaestion a second Patroclus. It is noteworthy that, having visited the graves of Homeric heroes in Asia Minor, Alexander laid a wreath on the grave of Achilles, and Hephaestion laid a wreath on the grave of Patroclus. Alexander took only Hephaestion with him during a visit to the tent of the mother and wife of Darius Kodoman, who were captured after the battle of Issus. Diodorus tells about this event as follows: “At dawn, the king, along with his most beloved friend, Hephaestion, came to the women. Both of them were dressed in the same way, but Hephaestion was taller and more beautiful, and Sisigamba, mistaking him for a king, prostrated herself before him. Those present began to shake their heads and point at Alexander with their hands. Sisigamba, ashamed of her mistake, prostrated herself again before Alexander. But the king, lifting her up, said: “Don't worry, mother! He is also Alexander. This phrase of the king, as it turned out, made a lot of sense and became the starting point for a new stage in the relationship between Alexander and Hephaestion. Hephaestion's career growth begins, revealing his organizational skills and military talent, which made him not only an indispensable friend, but also a comrade-in-arms.
One of the first tasks for Hephaestion was to organize the administration of the city of Sidon in Phoenicia, and he successfully coped with it. Fulfilling the following order, Hephaestion led the fleet from Phoenicia to Egypt. In the battle of Gaugamela, Hephaestion, now the head of the bodyguards, fought next to the king and was wounded in the hand: “... there were a lot of wounded, among them was Hephaestion, the head of the bodyguards, one of the most famous commanders(a spear hit him in the hand). After the defeat of Darius at Gaugamela and the establishment of Macedonian power in Persia, contradictions began to grow in Alexander's inner circle. Warlords become satraps, and together with the power they receive huge wealth, which they could only dream of before. Meanwhile, Alexander, continuing his campaign to the east, now listens less to the advice of the old environment, and puts forward new people to the first places. Following Persian customs, he forced his associates to do the same. The freedom-loving Macedonians, accustomed to seeing their king as the first among equals, painfully perceived what was happening. The conflict escalated into a plot by Philotas, the son of Parmenion. The conspiracy was revealed and Philotas, at the suggestion of Hephaestion, Krater and Ken, were subjected to torture, under which he admitted his guilt. Philotas begged Hephaestion for mercy, but the king's friend did not help him; Philotas was executed according to Macedonian customs.
Hephaestion played a not very plausible role in the "case of Callisthenes" - the philosopher and nephew of Aristotle. Having once told Alexander that the philosopher promised him to prostrate before the king, but did not keep his word, he predetermined his fate. The post of commander of the Hetairoi, occupied by Philota, Alexander divided between Hephaestion and Cleitus. At the same time, the cavalry of the hetairoi was divided, and Hephaestion headed one of the two hipparchies. Arrian suggested that Alexander "did not want to hand over the command of such a large cavalry ... to one person, even the closest." But one can hardly agree with this: in such a delicate matter, other comrades-in-arms played a prominent role, who expected to share their posts after the execution of the conspirators. The cavalry of the hetairoi was a tasty morsel, and handing it over to Hephaestion alone could cause envy and displeasure in the close circle of the king. It should also not be forgotten that Hephaestion had not previously held important military positions, and therefore Alexander considered it necessary to gradually bring him up to date. On the other hand, the appointment of Hephaestion to the position of "hipparch" allowed the king to critical situation rely on their "friends" - the hetairoi.
The position of Hephaestion is significantly strengthened in Central Asia: here he is engaged in the preparation of provisions and populates the devastated provinces. Entering India, Alexander divided his army. He entrusted the command of individual units to Hephaestion and Perdikka, transferring under their hands the regiments of Gorgias, Clitus and Meleager, as well as half of the cavalry of the "friends" and the entire hired cavalry. They were to bring to obedience all who were on the way to the Indus. Fulfilling the order, Hephaestion defeated the troops of the local prince Astis, subjugated Omphis, and then, uniting with the approaching army of Alexander, took part in the battle with Raja Por, fighting at the head of his hipparchy next to the king. Leading two phalanxes of foot, his hipparchy, the hipparchy of Demetrius, and half of the archers, he conquered a large part of northwestern India, after which he went to the Hyphasis River to join Alexander.
After the rebellion of the Macedonian army on the Gidasp River, it was decided to return to Persia. Here on the Hydaspes, Alexander divided his army into parts. One detachment under the command of Crater was to go along the right bank of the river. Hephaestion walked along the left bank, leading the largest and best part of the army, which included up to two hundred elephants. At the confluence of the Hydaspes with Akesin, Alexander's army was waiting for Hephaestion and Crater, crossing along the river itself. Then Hephaestion with a small detachment moved along the banks of the Indus, bringing the local tribes to obedience, populating and equipping the cities. Having passed the hard way through the desert of Hydrosia, they again separated: Hephaestion with most of the army moved along the coast from Carmania to Persia, and Alexander headed to Pasargada.
After a long campaign, the army united in Susa, where grandiose festivities were held on the occasion of the marriage of Alexander with the daughter of Darius III Stateira. For Hephaestion, the king gave the youngest daughter of Darius, the sister of Stateira Dripetida. As Arrian notes, Alexander wanted Hephaestion's children and his children to be first cousins. From Susa, Alexander and Hephaestion went to Ecbatana, the capital of the Median kingdom, which had disappeared by that time. On the way to Media, Alexander decided to send home the old and sick Macedonian soldiers, led by Krater and his assistant Polyperchon. Sending Krater was in the hands of Hephaestion: both commanders felt hostility towards each other, often turning into an open quarrel. The reason for the conflicts was that by the time the Eastern campaign ended, Alexander's attitude towards his comrades-in-arms had changed a lot. Friendly relations now receded into the background, and the king judged military leaders according to their personal abilities and merits. So Eumenes, not a Macedonian, but a Greek by nationality, became the head of the office and played an important role in the management system. But farther than all career ladder Gefestion advanced. During a campaign in India, he actually became the second person after Alexander, and upon his return to Persia, he became related to the king. Personally for Hephaestion, a new position of chiliarch was introduced. Having taken important positions, Hephaestion sought to maintain the position of the only royal friend of his kind. For this reason, the honorable removal of Krater, a friend and colleague of Alexander, can be regarded as an important victory for our hero.
Despite the apparent success, Gefestion was afraid of strengthening the positions of talented and popular comrades in the army, and this, in turn, made him nervous and quarrels. We find a sharp description of Hephaestion in the English researcher P. Green: “Hephaestion, the second “I” of the king was not popular. Tall, strong, wayward, evil, narrow-minded, he was well able to command a thousand warriors, but he was not fit to manage. His main characteristic was strict personal devotion to Alexander. On the contrary, the German historian F. Schachermeier believed that Hephaestion was a capable person and was preparing to take the place of Alexander in the event of the sudden death of the latter. By the way, this is evidenced by the appointment of Hephaestion as a chiliarch.
The position of chiliarch existed at the Persian court and meant something like the position of first minister, commander of the palace guards and head of the royal squadron. It can be said that all the threads of governing the country and the protection of its sovereign were concentrated in the hands of Hephaestion. Alexander could entrust this important post only to a true friend. As F. Shahermair notes, the expectation of the arrival of Antipater, influential and popular in the army, also played a big role in the appointment.
It should not be forgotten that Alexander did not yet have direct heirs capable of taking power, and Hephaestion, who received a high appointment and became a relative of Alexander himself and King Darius, was more suitable than anyone else for the role of regent. In the absence of an heir, the throne could immediately pass to Hephaestion. For any ruler, the question of an heir is a priority, and it does not matter whether the ruler is young or old, and whether he is healthy.
The murder of Philip served as a clear example for Alexander. However, there were several attempts on his life. The Eastern policy of Alexander was ambiguously perceived by his inner circle. The king's associates were divided into two camps: Hephaestion, Perdikka, Ptolemy and Eumenes accepted it completely, Antipater, Crater and Antigonus resolutely did not want the unification of East and West. Therefore, possible successors should be looked for in the first group. Ptolemy was not suitable for the role of the ruler of a huge empire: he early abandoned the idea of preserving a single country, putting a lot of effort into its collapse. Apparently, Alexander knew the mood of Ptolemy and did not seek to bring him closer to him: despite
merit, his position does not contain any significant career advancement. Eumenes is hardly worth considering at all as a possible successor: loyal to the cause of Alexander, a courageous warrior and a first-class commander, he was of low origin. Personally for Alexander, the origin did not matter, but the Macedonian nobility refused to consider Eumenes theirs. Perdikkas, a representative of a noble family from Orestida, a subtle and far-sighted politician, one of the few suitable for the role of successor. The king always had complete confidence in him, and after the death of Hephaestion, it was Perdikka who became his closest friend, as well as the commander of the first hipparchy of the hetairoi. It is no coincidence that Alexander gave him his ring before his death. But the most likely successor to Alexander should be considered Hephaestion. Among the entourage of the king, he was the most compromising figure. As a chiliarch, he controlled the armed forces and the administration of the country.
The status of a close friend of Alexander, very important for the Macedonians, Persians and royal relatives, could save the empire from civil war. After the death of the king, the government of the country was supposed to pass to Hephaestion, or rather, not even pass, but remain in his hands. If Hephaestion had survived after his illness, the Macedonian empire would have avoided many upheavals and retained its unity: his military talent, firm and decisive character made it possible to suppress the centers of civil war.
However, during the festivities in Ekbatany, Hephaestion fell ill and died seven days later. When Alexander was told that Hephaestion was not well, he hurried to him, but did not find him alive. Ancient historians wrote about Alexander's grief in different ways, depending on whether the author treated Hephaestion and Alexander himself favorably or was spiteful and envious. Justin writes that Alexander mourned his friend for so long, which is not befitting a king. Imitating Achilles, Alexander cut off his hair over the corpse and himself drove the chariot that carried the body of a friend. Like Achilles, Alexander planned to arrange gymnastic and musical competitions, and 3,000 participants were prepared for this. It is said that a short time later they competed at the funeral of the king himself. The slaughtered Kosev tribe became a funeral sacrifice for Hephaestion. Alexander ordered that Hephaestion be honored forever as a hero and even asked Amon if he allowed sacrifices to be made to Hephaestion as a god. Claudius Elian writes: “Some believe that everything that was established for the funeral of Hephaestion was used at the funeral celebrations in honor of Alexander himself, for death befell the king when the mourning rites for Hephaestion had not yet been performed.”
With the death of Hephaestion, an entire era ended for Alexander, and if we draw an analogy with their favorite heroes - Achilles and Patroclus, then life itself. As Arrian rightly noted: “For Alexander, the death of Hephaestion was a great misfortune; I think that Alexander would rather die than survive him, just as I think Achilles would rather die before Patroclus than become an avenger for his death.
Literature
1. Arrian, Quintus Flavius. Campaign of Alexander / Quintus Flavius Arrian. -
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2. Arrian, Quintus Flavius. India / Quintus Flavius Arrian. -linemedsf.
boom.ru/ID_16_05_19.htm
3. Green, P. Alexander the Great. King of the four corners of the world: trans. from English. L.A.
Igorevsky. - M.: Tsentrpoligraf, 2003.
4. Diodorus Siculus Historical Library/ Diodorus Siculus.-
ancientrome.ru/antlitr/diodoros/
5. Plutarch. Alexander // Plutarch. Selected biographies: In 2 volumes; per. With
ancient Greek, comp., approx. M. Tomashevskaya. - T. 2 .. - M .: Pravda, 1987.
6. Plutarch. Sertorius and Eumenes // Plutarch. Comparative biographies: In 2 volumes;
ed. S.S. Avernsev. - T. 2. - M.: Nauka, 1994.
7. Ruf, Quintus Curtius History of Alexander the Great / Quintus Curtius Ruf. -
militera.lib.ru
8. Schachermayr, F. Alexander the Great / Fritz Schachermayr. -
centant.pu.ru/sno/lib/schach/11.htm
9. Shifman, I.Sh. Alexander the Great / I.Sh. Shifman. - L .: Nauka, 1988.
10. Shoffman, A.S. The collapse of the empire of Alexander the Great / A.S. Shofman. -
Kazan: Publishing House of Kazan University, 1984.
11. Shoffman, A.S. Eastern policy of Alexander the Great / A.S. Shofman. -
Kazan: Kazan University Press, 1976.
12. Elian Claudius Motley stories / Claudius Elian. -
ancientrome.ru/antlitr/aelianus/stories/k n08-f....
13. Justin, Mark Yunian. Epitome of Pompey Trogus' Historiac Philippicae;
per. from lat. A.A. Dekonsky, M.I. Riga; ed. M.E. Grabar-Passek. - St. Petersburg: Publishing House
St. Petersburg State University, 2005.
Bulletin of Young Scientists No. 07
Collection of scientific papers, Gorno-Altaisk: RIO GAGU, 2010.
Alexander the Great... Alexander the Great... A man who in his short life became the ruler of the Oikumene, the most brilliant commander in world history, the king of kings and a god. This name attracted people at all times, this person frightened and attracted, again and again forcing them to try to comprehend who Alexander really was.
Ancient and modern authors give many interpretations of their vision of Alexander's personality, but one of them is not completely reliable. These works were written taking into account the official point of view prevailing at that time, scientific trends, moral and ethical norms. Alexander was praised and cursed, they called him the Messiah and a dangerous schizophrenic, a war genius and an upstart who got all the victories thanks to the training of his father's army and a fortunate combination of circumstances. The truth, as always, probably lies somewhere in the middle. But there is no doubt that Alexander really was a complex, multifaceted and controversial personality.
According to ancient sources, Alexander in his youth combined modesty, sensitivity and extraordinary determination. The energy in him was just overflowing. He had an inquisitive mind, he was fond of philosophy and natural science. Life, of course, was a difficult test for the prince, who was convinced from childhood that he was the son of a god and a descendant of the great heroes of the past. Inevitably, it was necessary to comply. And Alexander, obviously, succeeded in this - already at the age of sixteen he managed to show himself in the eyes of the army in such a way that the soldiers would follow him anywhere.
Over time, becoming king, Alexander became an increasingly tough and arrogant person, although he remained devoted to his childhood friends all his life. Countless conquests, won battles, and divine status bestowed on him by the Oracle only widened the gulf between the Great King and his subordinates. The Persian way of life and customs fascinated Alexander, which caused discontent among his Macedonian confidants. He lived in an atmosphere of conspiracies and intrigues, eventually ceasing to trust those whom he had believed all his life, fearing rebellion, poison, and a dagger. The frenzied temperament of Alexander - in anger he could not only undeservedly insult, but also kill - brought him a lot of grief himself. And only the unbridled striving forward, towards the horizon, kept him from madness.
Is it possible to love such a person - without looking back, without fear? Dedicate your whole life to him, without demanding anything in return - only attention, friendly participation, rare moments of tenderness? History has shown that it is. Next to the great conqueror there was always a man so inseparable from him that historians called him "Alexander's shadow." Hephaestion, the son of Amyntor, is the best friend and lover throughout his life. Favorites and hobbies of Alexander often changed, and only Hephaestion towered over all of them, only his place under Alexander was unchanged.
How was Hephaestion able to win such devotion to Alexander, love that the king did not hesitate to openly demonstrate to others? The secret is simple, and at the same time incredibly complex: Hephaestion became almost everything for Alexander. The first youthful love that remained forever. A friend who could be trusted with the most intimate. A comrade-in-arms who always supported any, even the most insane of his plans and undertakings. He was indispensable for the tsar - a brilliant commander, an unsurpassed engineer, logistician, diplomat and administrator - and for Alexander - true friend, the right hand, the only person who will always listen and understand, who can be trusted without limit.
Relatively little is known about Hephaestion - he was originally from Pella, the capital of Macedonia, but his name and the name of his father, Amyntor, betray an Athenian origin. It is possible that the grandfather of Hephaestion was the Athenian dignitary Demetrius. Apparently, Hephaestion studied with Alexander and the children of other high-ranking Macedonian courtiers at the school of Aristotle in Miez - this is evidenced by his long correspondence with Aristotle, which stopped only after the relationship between the Great King and his old teacher deteriorated sharply. The significance of Hephaestion in the empire and the life of Alexander was so great that Stagirite collected letters to him in a separate book, which, unfortunately, was lost, like most of Aristotle's letters to Alexander. We have received information that some of the ancient authors wrote a biographical book about Hephaestion, but it was also lost, probably during a fire in the Alexandrian library.
Later ancient sources describe Hephaestion as tall man rare beauty. The images known to us were created after his death, and are striking in their dissimilarity. Therefore, what exactly the son of Amyntor looked like, one can only guess. The most reliable image of him is considered to be a part of the bas-relief on the sarcophagus of King Sidon, depicting Alexander, Hephaestion and, probably, Perdiccas in battle. Obviously, Hephaestion, just like Alexander, was distinguished by a rather quick-tempered disposition, was stubborn and rather arrogant. At the same time, ancient sources call him a smart, courageous, noble and straightforward man, able to both command and obey, courteous and charming. Alexander trusted him to independently lead the troops and entrusted complex diplomatic missions.
The first official recognition of the "special" friendship between Alexander and Hephaestion is the story of bringing wreaths to the graves of the heroes of the Trojan War, Achilles and Patroclus, who are still considered the most romantic homosexual couple of antiquity. The love between them lasted a lifetime, although it is not known what role sex played in their relationship after entering adulthood. It is authentically known that Alexander, who did not have legitimate heirs (his son from Queen Roxana, Alexander IV, was born after his death), took all the necessary measures so that in the event of his death the empire would be inherited by Hephaestion. First, he invented specifically for the lover the position of chiliarch, or Grand Vizier, who was supposed to be the actual deputy of the king. After returning from India, Alexander married Stateira, the daughter of King Darius, and gave Hephaestion her younger sister Dripetida as his wife. And, although many attributed sentimental motives to this decision - Alexander allegedly wanted Hephaestion's children to be his nephews - at the right time this marriage was intended to legitimize Hephaestion's position in Persia and ensure him - or at least his children - the right to the throne . Alexander, being a genius at military strategy, suffered from a certain naivety in political matters, sincerely believing that Hephaestion would be kept alive after his death and even proclaimed his heir. If the king had been the first to leave, his beloved would have fallen the first victim in the struggle for the throne of the empire.
And yet, it is quite possible that Hephaestion did not manage to avoid such a fate. Surrounded by Alexander, he had many ill-wishers - they envied him, they were afraid of him. The history of his illness and death seems rather strange. There is little doubt that Gefestion fell ill with a fever, but the sources irrefutably testify that he died at the very moment when he was already on the mend. He felt so much better that not only Alexander calmed down, but also the best army doctor - they even considered it possible for themselves to leave the patient alone for almost the whole day, going to watch the games. The fact that Gefestion died after he violated the doctor's ban and had a hearty breakfast is a version that certainly has the right to exist. After a long abstinence from solid food, such a meal could be fatal. But the possibility is not ruled out that poison was added to the wine that was served for breakfast. The reason for poisoning him was the jealous wives of Alexander, and his political rivals.
After a few minutes Gefestion became very ill. They immediately rushed after Alexander, but he, having rushed to the palace, no longer found his friend alive.
The grief of the king knew no bounds. Various ancient authors describe his grief in different ways, but its depth is terrifying. Summing up various sources, here is how Maurice Druon writes about this: “Alexander's grief crossed all human boundaries. For three whole days he closed himself in the room with the dead, sprawled on the floor next to him, not taking food, without sleep, without ceasing to moan, and when the body had to be carried out, which began to decompose, the cries of the king were so terrible, as if he had lost his mind. .
Not a single person in the world was mourned by his friend, not a single woman by her beloved, not a single brother by his brother as Hephaestion was by Alexander. The face of the king was unclean due to an overgrown beard and tears, his clothes were torn, he cut off his hair with a knife; he himself led the horses carrying the remains of Hephaestion by the bridle; since their manes and tails were cut according to custom, he ordered that all the horses and mules of the army should also be shorn; he forbade all music in the city, ordered the battlements of the walls to be demolished, the lights in the temples to be extinguished, as they do when the king dies, and sentenced the doctor Glaucus to crucifixion. Two tombs were to be erected for Hephaestion: one in Babylon to receive his body, the other in Alexandria of Egypt to become a refuge for the spirit of his double. Alexander also sent a messenger to the oracle of Siwa to find out whether Hephaestion should have been given divine honors and whether his memory should become the subject of a new cult.
The story of the Oracle itself deserves special mention. According to rumors, Alexander, himself proclaimed a god, was so afraid of being separated in death from Hephaestion that he made sure that Hephaestion was also recognized as a deity - or rather, a divine hero. This title before him was, for example, endowed with Hercules and Achilles. Temples were built in honor of Hephaestion, those who revered his cult were in special favor with Alexander, even if he had previously disliked these people.
It seemed that having secured a reunion with his beloved in the other world, Alexander calmed down a bit. After a grandiose funeral pyre in Babylon, he returned to his former plans for a campaign of conquest in Arabia. However, heaven is heaven, and separation on earth also still had to be experienced. Alexander preferred to drown grief in wine. He increasingly began to experience heavy binges, until, finally, at one of the feasts, the king felt ill. After being ill for about ten more days, Alexander died. All this time, he stubbornly drove doctors away from him, and many researchers suggest that Alexander deliberately chose death in order to end his mental suffering. We will not dwell in detail on the cause of Alexander's death, since it has not yet been reliably established. Severe pneumonia, fever, malaria, cirrhosis of the liver, unintentional poisoning, murder, and even suicide are listed as options. The truth is now extremely difficult to establish. However, the date of Alexander's death is curious.
Psychologists say that the rehabilitation period for people who have suffered severe emotional trauma - primarily the loss of loved ones - is eight months. During this time, a person either completely restores mental balance, or completely loses the meaning of life, plunges into even more severe depression and often comes to the conclusion that mental suffering is too hard for him. In such cases, they commit suicide or deliberately seek death. In addition, their immune system is so weakened that the slightest virus can develop into a serious illness.
Alexander died exactly eight months after the death of Hephaestion.
Perhaps this may be a mere coincidence, but scientists do not think so. Almost all researchers of the biography of the Macedonian conqueror are sure that the death of Hephaestion in one way or another served as the impetus for the illness and death of Alexander himself.
For the first time entering the future capital of his empire, Babylon, Alexander the Great casually dropped the words: "He is also Alexander." They referred to Hephaestion and were told to Queen Sisygambis, who, mistaking the stately handsome man for a king, prostrated herself before him. The gallant young king, most likely, wanted to say by this only that Hephaestion is also a "protector of people", but his words turned out to be prophetic.
Hephaestion was a support for Alexander, without which he felt defenseless. Rising higher and higher on his divine pedestal above the crowd, Alexander did not notice that only Hephaestion remained next to him. When Hephaestion died, Alexander was doomed to loneliness. A man has died who has been with him for so long that he has become a part of himself. The only one who loved not the king, but Alexander. The former world collapsed, and the great commander had neither the strength nor the desire to collect a new one from its fragments.
The story of Alexander and Hephaestion won millions of hearts. A symbol of eternal devotion, friendship and love, it excites the minds to this day, turning into novels, novels, stories, poems. This is a love story that has survived millennia and will last forever.
Text: Markus Jansson, Master student, Uppsala University (Sweden)
contact.
The great commander died suddenly, at the age of 32. It is still not really clear what knocked down a fairly young and quite strong man. Some historians believe that Alexander the Great brought typhoid fever to the grave, others believe that he caught malaria, others argue that the commander loved bacchanalia too much and drank to cirrhosis of the liver or walked up to some bad disease ...
All this, of course, is very interesting, but somewhat prosaic. According to the Independent, an essay has recently been published, which presents a much more intriguing version of the death of the emperor. The well-known popularizer of history, Graham Phillips, in his book "Alexander the Great. Murder in Babylon" tries to prove that the commander was poisoned, and not by rivals in the struggle for power, but by his own wife Roxana.
According to Phillips, Roxanne dealt with her husband in a fit of jealousy. And, perhaps, she was jealous of him not for a rival, but for a rival - the lover of the emperor Hephaestion. Hephaestion himself, according to the author of the book, died under approximately the same circumstances as Alexander (he fell ill just after the funeral feast arranged in memory of the deceased lover). This means that both men could have been killed by the same person - the insidious Roxana. Phillips even names the poison she used: strychnine. Before their death, Alexander and Hephaestion suffered greatly - they began to have neck numbness, a sharp pain in the stomach, a fever, convulsions began; in the last hours they could no longer speak and breathe normally. Typical symptoms of strychnine poisoning. But the poison itself was not typical in those days. Roxanne, Phillips believes, could have gotten the poison while traveling to India, where she visited two years before her husband's death.
The new theory about the death of Macedonian has already appeared opponents. One of them is Oxford professor Robin Lane-Fox, historical consultant to director Oliver Stone, who is finishing work on Alexander the Great. The professor is sure that the commander died, having picked up some kind of disease like malaria, which quickly developed against the background of an excessive increase in alcohol and poorly healed wounds. Lane-Fox makes another argument that is hard to accept. He says that Macedonian's killer would not have used a slow-acting poison, but "would have acted for sure." But if the emperor was indeed sent to the next world by his wife, then poisoning, promising a painful death, is just the most suitable way. It is not for nothing that poison is called a typical female weapon. However, who can now say with certainty how it really happened ...
Speaking of Oliver Stone's film, the massive film about Macedon, starring Colin Farrell, Anthony Hopkins and Angelina Jolie, could have hit the screen in the near future, but the film was sent back to the editing table. There were too many scenes in it, in which Farell-Macedonsky starred, not burdened with complexes. The actor says that everyone already knows that in life he is straight, so you can experiment on the screen, portraying a bisexual emperor. However, the bosses of the company Warner Bros., producing the epic, decided that Farrell and Stone went too far, and asked to cut out the extra "blue".
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