Son of the Moon

by Jennifer Macaire

  She darkened her nipples with carmine, and she also did something to her sex, making it appear rather, well, I hate to say it, but she put a sort of gloss on it. I wished that she would catch something interesting, like dysentery, and have to stay in her tent for the rest of the journey. I wondered if I could arrange it. Unfortunately, Usse would never agree. She was Iskander’s wife, his queen, and the mother of Iskander’s son, born just after Chiron.

  I would have liked to see the baby but didn’t think Roxanne would let me. I wasn’t going to let her within fifty feet of Chiron. I was suddenly relieved I hadn’t brought Paul with me. It would have been impossible to protect a five-year-old, especially one as trusting as he was. He would have accepted any toy or sweet given to him by a stranger. I shuddered at the thought and breathed a sigh of relief.

  With all that in mind, I approached Alexander’s tent carefully. I wanted to make sure no one was inside. Lysimachus stood guard. I watched him for a while. He acted the same as always, but he’d been with Plexis for the past three months, and that meant that he had been with Roxanne. I decided to take a chance.

  ‘Good evening, Lysimachus,’ I said, stepping out of the shadows.

  He jumped. I’d gotten good at sneaking around. I grinned.

  ‘My lady! It’s good to see you and the babe! May I see him?’

  I obliged. ‘Chiron, this is Lysimachus, Lysimachus, Chiron.’

  ‘He certainly has changed,’ said Lysimachus.

  ‘He’s growing. It’s normal.’ I smiled. ‘Who’s in the tent?’

  ‘Nobody, you’re the first to arrive.’

  ‘Lysimachus, do me a favour. I’m very tired. If anyone comes to see me, tell that person I’m resting. Try not to hurt anyone’s feelings, all right?’

  He looked confused; I rarely gave any orders, but at that moment Chiron started to wail. Lysimachus’s face cleared. ‘Of course, my lady, I understand. Good evening to you.’

  I ducked under the tent flap and stopped. It had all been changed.

  A new rug covered the floor. Not as opulent as the old one, it was made of attractively coloured rose and violet cotton. A new glass lamp hung from the ceiling, and it swung ever so slightly, telling me that it had been recently lit. Made of pale yellow glass, delicately hand-moulded then carved, it seemed as fine as the old lamp. The light it gave was warm and made the tent look cosy. Alexander’s table sat in the right hand corner, and fresh fruit filled the green jade bowl.

  I poked my head out the tent and asked Lysimachus, ‘Where did the fruit come from?’ in a casual voice with a bright smile.

  ‘From Queen Roxanne,’ he said with an answering smile.

  ‘How thoughtful,’ I said, and withdrew my head. I looked at the fruit. Surely it wasn’t poisoned, that would be far too obvious.

  However, there were poisons and there were poisons. I took the fruit and put it into an old leather bag. Then I changed Chiron and put his dirty diaper on the top. I leaned out of the tent again.

  ‘Oh, Lysimachus, I’m sorry to bother you. Will you give this old diaper bag to a slave to throw into the latrine pit? It should be buried. Chiron has suffered from an upset stomach these past few days. Tell him not to bother washing the diapers in it.’

  He took the bag, frowned at its weight, smiled at me reassuringly, and called to a passing slave.

  I wanted to wash the jade fruit bowl, but I’d do that tomorrow. I sighed and looked at the bed. The covers were still the same but I took them all off, searching for a thorn, a snake, or a spider. There was nothing. I shook everything out and made the bed again. I would be very careful from now on.

  There were a few other differences in the tent in concession to the heat. The curtains were new. Instead of heavy tapestries they were light cotton, and the ropes holding them in place had been replaced with new ones. The tent pole had been polished, and Chiron’s hammock was neatly folded away.

  A thorn was in his hammock. I worked it free of the stitching and peered at it. It was a long, sharp, black thorn. Its point had been placed roughly where the baby’s shoulder would be. I frowned as I held the thorn delicately between my fingers and stared thoughtfully at the little hammock.This was war. I put the thorn in my sandalwood box. I would ask Usse to see if it was poisoned.

  I settled Chiron, and then sat down on the bed to wait. There was little hope Alexander would send Roxanne away, so I would just have to learn to live with her. I wanted to bathe, but I couldn’t leave Chiron alone. Lysimachus was standing guard, yet he didn’t realize how much Roxanne hated me. He had accepted gifts from her. He would let any of her entourage inside without question – he had already done so.

  I sighed and lay back on the bed. I soon got bored. The minutes dragged by. Chiron slept, his little snores sounding like a bee buzzing. I stuck my legs in the air and looked at my feet. Not bad as feet went. They carried me places. I examined my hands. I had short nails, but my hands were nice with long, strong fingers from years of piano lessons. I had graceful arms from years of ballet lessons. I lifted up my tunic and stared at my body. Three pregnancies had shifted my muscles and bones. My hips were flatter and wider, and my stomach, although not flabby or round, was bigger. It was still nicely concave, but the line had changed. My breasts were large from nursing, soft, and round. They were well shaped and rather nice. Not raving beauties, but nice. When I didn’t nurse they got smaller. I touched my nipples and they obediently stood up. They were small and pink, not huge and plum coloured like Roxanne’s. I let my tunic fall and rolled over. I cupped my chin on my hands, wondering where everyone had gone. I needed to take a bath. I’d braided my hair tightly and pinned it up. It felt greasy. I’d brought a cake of the lye soap with me and I wanted to wash my hair with it. I’d discovered that if I mixed it with ass’s milk it made an acceptable shampoo.

  Because the army had a plethora of donkeys, and they all had baby donkeys, ass’s milk was not hard to come by. Donkeys were very handy for the army, like little, furry, grey jeeps. They didn’t eat much, worked hard, and when they died they were converted into sausage meat. Useful, attractive, and not half as stubborn as camels. Better than jeeps actually. They didn’t need any roads or gasoline.

  Chiron’s tiny buzz-saw snore was so monotonous my eyes closed. I had just started to doze when the tent flap opened. Someone came in on noiseless feet. I smiled in my half sleep. Only one person could move so silently. There was a long moment of quiet. I opened my eyes. A man stood over Chiron’s hammock. He stayed motionless, his hands clasped behind his back, bent over the hammock, an expression of intense concentration on his angular face.

  ‘Hello, Plexis,’ I said drowsily.

  He came over to the bed and sat down next to me. His wavy brown hair had grown much longer and he now tied it back with a leather thong.

  ‘Ashley,’ he said. There were months of longing in his voice. His smile was sudden, and very sweet. My skin tingled. His effect on me was rapid and very physical.

  I sat up and took him in my arms. ‘I’m so dirty,’ I moaned. ‘I wish I’d seen you after my bath.’

  He chuckled. ‘That’s all right. You’re here now. I’ve missed you.’ He held me at arm’s length and looked at me. His amber eyes were clear as rainwater and his high cheekbones had a faint blush. ‘You look wonderful.’

  ‘I don’t. My hair’s a mess and I’m exhausted.’ I wrapped my arms and legs around him and pulled him over on top of me. ‘Make love to me,’ I whispered, ‘please?’

  He nuzzled my neck. ‘Soon. Right now I’m going to watch Chiron and you are going with Axiom to have a bath. He’s waiting for you outside. He told me everything,’ he added.

  I sighed contentedly, moving my hips under his, teasing. I felt him harden and grinned. ‘I’ll go take a bath, but then we need to talk. And I don’t know when we’ll get time to do this properly,’ I said softly.

  ‘Properly? Who said anything about properly?’ He was naked under his short, pleated skirt. That was his usual attire; skirt,
sandals, and nothing else. Very sexy. He used his penis to nudge aside my tunic, but then he had to fumble at my drawers with his hands, suddenly urgent. ‘Who invented these things?’ he asked crossly, getting the knot all tangled. With a muffled curse he ripped them off, the fine muslin no match for him. He was breathing fast but then hesitated, raising an eyebrow. I grabbed his hips and pulled him into me.

  He thrust hard, trembling with the effort to slow down. However, his body betrayed him, the edge of his desire too sharp to control. His breathing deepened and became hoarse. He tried to control himself, pushing up away from me.

  ‘Don’t stop,’ I moaned.

  ‘Who’s stopping?’ he gasped. ‘After three months do you think I can stop?’ He tried to slow down, but I wouldn’t let him. He gave a strangled groan and let himself go, shuddering into me, his arms holding me tight.

  ‘That wasn’t fair,’ he said, rolling off me. ‘I wanted it to last longer.’

  ‘Axiom’s waiting outside,’ I reminded him. I looked at Plexis and grinned. His hair had come loose and his face was now definitely flushed. He looked like a fallen angel. An Italian Renaissance angel after a round in the sack. Very sexy. I kissed his lips. ‘Chiron is the most wonderful baby in the world,’ I told him. ‘Watch him carefully, and if he wakes up take him in your arms and carry him around the tent. He’s curious about everything, and he loves to see new things. Don’t let him touch the lamp,’ I went on, straightening my tunic and taking a handful of soap with me.

  The bathhouse was crowded, but as usual nobody was in the tub, a thing only sissies or women used. Real men slathered oil and sand on themselves, scraped it all off with a leather scraper, and then sluiced themselves with cold water. Some soldiers used warm water. There was always plenty heating in a huge cauldron inside the building.

  There was also a pile of hot stones and herbs in the corner. Hot water was sprinkled on them to create a thick, fragrant steam. I used a big bucket to fill the tub, then I undressed and slid into the water.

  Heaven couldn’t be as good as this, I reflected, lying in warm water watching thirty naked men in the prime of their physical lives. They were all shapes and sizes, but all were superbly fit. Some had impressive scars or interesting tattoos. Most had beautiful bodies. A few were absolutely gorgeous. I took a deep breath and sank underwater.

  The new shampoo I’d invented worked nicely. It left my hair shiny and fluffy clean. I couldn’t wash my body with the lye soap, though. I had to use the kaolin clay. It was soft and didn’t irritate my skin. I washed, then rinsed off, all the while admiring the men. It was my biggest bonus for being stuck here in this time. It made up for my lack of television and cinema. Well, OK, it made up for the lack of muscleman calendars. I grinned as I dressed, and then I spoke my blessing in English to the men. ‘Great bodies, guys, love the tight buns, keep up the good work.’

  They smiled happily. I’d said the ritual blessing. Everything was as it should be.

  Axiom waited for me outside. He took his duty seriously.

  Back at the tent, Alexander and Nearchus had joined Plexis. I felt suddenly very glad that I’d had time alone with Plexis before the bath. Nearchus was an uptight person. He wouldn’t understand Alexander’s sharing me with anyone. The fact that I had to share Alexander with several wives and lovers didn’t seem to bother him a bit.

  I thought he was a bore and a prig. He thought I was a dangerous spy from Hades, but he was willing to put up with me for Alexander’s sake. I wondered what he thought about Roxanne. I would have to find out who my allies were and keep them firmly on my side.

  He greeted me civilly, and I almost regretted thinking bad thoughts about him. Ptolemy Lagos came soon after. He had been with Alexander, so he just waved in my general direction.

  I was sitting on the bed now with Brazza brushing my hair. He loved to do that. His hands were as light and dexterous as the best hairdresser’s. I closed my eyes and purred.

  Craterus and Coenus came in and bowed deeply to me. Antipatros gave me a genuine smile but stayed on the other side of the tent. Pharnacus followed soon after, and I felt a sharp jab of sorrow at the sight of him. He looked so very like his sister Barsine, the jolly princess I’d come to love so well. She had been Alexander’s first wife and mother of his son Heracles. She had died last fall, but Pharnacus, with his fiery thatch of red hair and turquoise eyes, brought her memory vividly to life. When Alexander looked at him his face grew still, and I knew he was thinking of Barsine as well.

  Perdiccas came in and greeted us. He was one of my favourite generals. He was devoted to Alexander, but he was never cold, like Nearchus. He didn’t have dark, secretive eyes like Ptolemy Lagos. He wasn’t as mournful looking as Craterus, or as hot-tempered as Coenus. He wasn’t old, like Antipatros, or as huge and hairy as Pharnacus. He was a slight man, with straight, sandy hair and a smattering of freckles on his nose. He had light hazel eyes and an easy smile. He was also intelligent, cultivated, and one of Alexander’s best tacticians. He gave me a wide smile, and, unlike most people, a kiss as well. It was a formal kiss, but he was one of the few to have no fear of me. ‘My lady Ashley,’ he said, ‘welcome back. We missed you very much.’

  The other generals made agreeing noises and I blushed.

  ‘Why, thank you. You’re too kind,’ I said. ‘I missed you, too. All of you. And it’s nice to be back.’

  The generals smiled, then frowned, harrumphed, and got back to business.

  Chiron had slept soundly through everything, but at the harrumph he woke up and began to cry. I smiled apologetically and took him from his hammock. Then I pulled the curtain around the bed and nursed him.

  ‘Still no schedule would Chiron follow,’ I chided the little boy gently. He stopped nursing, opened his eyes, and gave me a look that clearly said, ‘Will you be quiet while I’m eating?’ I grinned and kissed his downy head. He was getting rounder, the resemblance to Plexis fading. The likeness would appear again when he reached skinny childhood, but the chubby, toddler stage would hide the set of his eyes and the shape of his face. His high cheekbones were already gone; Chiron had nice, plump cheeks now. He was starting to look like anyone’s chubby baby, and I was glad. The main reason was Alexander. He would need all the respect and support he could get in the difficult months ahead.

  Chiron’s fingers tangled in a lock of my hair as he nursed. I felt suddenly very sad. I missed Paul, even though I knew he would be safe. Chiron looked back up at me. His eyes were changing. From the slate-blue of babyhood, they were turning green. One eye looked darker than the other. I wondered if parti-coloured eyes were hereditary, and if so, who, in fact, the father was. I kissed Chiron’s head again. I thought I’d really not know. I loved thinking he had parts of both men.

  We ate dinner in the tent. The meeting still went on. Axiom brought the food. He had prepared it himself, and so I ate without any fear. I was glad, because I was hungry. Hunger pains stabbed me constantly. I was nursing, my body screamed for calories, and I wasn’t getting half what I should be getting. I would have to start eating more. Now that the army was together perhaps it would be easier. The food supplies would come to the same place. Taxiles, king of Taxila, had promised to help us. We camped on his lands now. Plexis had been sending and receiving messages from him constantly. So far all the news was good.

  When the generals finally left, I thought that I would be able to relax and spend a quiet evening with Alexander, Plexis, Brazza, and Axiom, but it was not to be. Lysimachus stuck his head into the tent and announced a visitor. ‘Onesicrite to see you, Iskander,’ he said respectfully.

  I gritted my teeth as Onesicrite entered, bowed low, and spread his parchment on the table. He was oblivious to Plexis’s yawns or Alexander’s glassy stare.

  ‘Will you tell me about the fortress Aornos?’ he asked. ‘The Athenians will be so excited to hear about it. Imagine! The very fortress Heracles himself could not bring down falls to you, his direct descendant.’

  Alexander told
him quickly, in very brief detail, about the attack and the outcome. Onesicrite finished his report then asked, ‘And before that? Did you not visit the Valley of the Gods where Dionysus was raised? Did you partake of the wine of the gods? Did you celebrate the Bacchic revels? Was it fully as wonderful as they say?’

  Alexander said that no, he had just passed through the valley, that no, he hadn’t participated in any Bacchic revels, and that yes, he’d had some of the wine and it was very good. He’d even brought a good deal with him, and the next time there was a celebration, he would share it with everyone.

  Onesicrite licked the nib of his reed pen and narrowed his eyes. He had been staying with Plexis’s part of the army. He’d joined Roxanne’s court after his lover, Callisthenes, had committed suicide. Perhaps he held Alexander responsible for Callisthenes’ death, and indirectly, he was right. Alexander had imprisoned Callisthenes, and the poor man had hanged himself. But during Callisthenes’ trial, Onesicrite had been horrible to him. It was as much Onesicrite’s fault as anyone’s that Callisthenes died. ‘The guilty dog bites the hardest.’ That was a saying I’d heard often enough from Alexander.