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--- Bagoas Meets the Greeks - First Night ---

Bagoas had heard the rumors that were flying in the palace that King Darius had been defeated by the upstart Greek, Alexander. He and the other pretty boys had not been outside the harem walls in months, since the king had left to do battle, leaving them behind. Though they were usually allowed much more freedom, Tmarras, the harem keeper, had been very strict about their leaving the boys' quarters. In order to hear the news, the boys had to seek permission from Tmarras to join him with the women. Bagoas knew Tmarras liked to be the center of attention. He suspected that the only reason the older eunuch would not repeat his stories to the boys separately was because he liked to have them beg him for what they wanted.

The news today was that Alexander and his army were headed to Babylon to take possession of the palace and all its contents. Many of the women seemed fearful,but some were excited to hear there were men coming to the palace; perhaps dreaming of encounters they seldom had with Darius. The boys saw Darius on a more regular basis, and usually were allowed outside the harem when he was in residence, so the news that Alexander was so close both fascinated and frightened them. It was said that Greeks kept no eunuchs, so their position under the new king was unknown. Bagoas wondered if the Greeks knew of him, but reminded himself that what importance he might have had with King Darius was surely not known beyond these walls.

The other boys knew Bagoas he had a little knowledge of Greek and were eager to learn whatever they could. Bagoas was the only boy with a suite of rooms, being the Great King's favorite, and he invited them to join him that night; after Tmarras had done his last inspection to make sure everyone was bedded down. He had, of course, never mentioned his time with Datis to anyone in the palace. It was a part of his life he wanted to forget, though even now, he was still occasionally bothered by dreams of coarse men brutally using his child's body. At 15, he would still wake from those dreams terrified. But some of Datis' clients had been Greek, and he had been forced to learn to please them. He knew some words.

In some ways, it was strange that they would seek him out. Usually, he was envied for his special place with the Great King, and few ever offered him friendship. He knew part of the reason he agreed was because of his loneliness. He hoped they might accept him if he could be useful to them. When they arrived, he told them he knew only a little. 'Stand,' 'sit,' 'lie down,' 'roll over,' 'obey,' 'don't scream.' He could tell he was frightening them. So then he shared some of the less horrific things. 'What is your name'? 'How old are you?' 'Good boy.' 'Please.' 'Thank you.' Though they said nothing, Bagoas thought he saw their expressions soften as they watched him. Apparently, they now realized he was not as fortunate as they had thought. They talked of their own lives and each one had a story to tell of how he had come to King Darius. It turned out that many had received instruction from Oromedon and they all spoke of him fondly. Later, they talked of the rumors and speculated about what might happen.

As the sun began to rise, they all realized they had stayed too long and began furtively to leave. But it was already too late. As some of the last boys were leaving, Tmarras' raised voice could be heard, as well as slaps and yelps. It was only a matter of minutes before he stood before Bagoas. "Get up, damn you! The Great King may be gone - but YOU are hardly in charge of things here. How dare you disobey me!" When Bagoas was standing, Tmarras slapped his face hard. "Don't you ever do that again." Bagoas dropped his head. "No sir, I will not" he said quietly, blinking back tears. As distraught as he might be, he realized Tmarras had held back considerably. There was no blood in his mouth; he doubted he would bruise. "Rest until the Macedonians get here; when you arise, bathe yourself and dress well."

The news was shocking - the conquerors would be here today. "Yes, sir," he answered quietly, "but, please, sir, do you know how soon?"

"You are too curious, boy. Go to bed. I don't want you looking like a street whore when the new king gets here." Tmarras did not leave until Bagoas had undressed and slid into bed. The boy shut his eyes, but his mind raced. Why did it matter what he looked like - who was going to look at him? In spite of his fears, a sleepless night ensured that he slept.

Later in the afternoon, Neshi, his slave given him by Darius, woke him and told him his bath was ready. Bagoas wanted to go to the balcony rather than directly to his bath, but Neshi was firm, telling him Tmarras had given orders to prepare Bagoas for the visitors. Remembering the slap he had received earlier, Bagoas made no more objections.

When finally his bath was complete and his skin rubbed with scented oils, he had a few moments of freedom and made his way to the balcony overlooking the women's quarters. A low buzz drifted upwards, reminding Bagoas of the beehive in the outside garden where he had sometimes visited with Darius. Alexander and his army were marching through the main roads of the palace complex. They would be in the palace shortly and final preparations were being made to welcome the conquerors. It seemed there would be no more resistance. To Bagoas, this all seemed impossible. He remembered his father and his father's friends speaking lightly of the Greek threat. Persia was an ancient civilization that controlled the world. How could barbarians have conquered it so completely? Where was his king? Bagoas felt guilty he had not thought of this earlier. Darius had been kind to him in many ways. There had been no love between them, but Darius always treated him well.

The other harem boys began to arrive, too. Excited talk began to circulate. They had all been told they must make their best appearance today. No one knew why. They were curious and, like the women in the courtyard below, they strained to look. Then Tmarras appeared and any levity disappeared. The boys must leave the balcony immediately, paint their faces, dress in their finest clothes and then come back - standing in front of the curtains. 'We are to be on display,' Bagoas thought. It was said the Greeks liked boys more than women. Were they to be offered to the barbarians as some sort of prize? Bagoas noticed Tmarras speaking with one of the Persian nobles, one he had seen one afternoon with Darius when he was dancing. He knew the man had been pleased with his performance and had even asked Darius if he might have him for the night. Darius had refused. Bagoas remembered he had been grateful for this small kindness of his old master. Many of the nobles passed around their boys. Darius had never done so.

Bagoas did as he was told. Neshi began to pull out the small pots of paint and apply the colors to Bagoas' face. He held out the bright blue vest. Bagoas started to refuse, feeling he would be too bright, but Neshi said it was Tmarras' order and all discussion ended. Bagoas feared the motives, but there was too much still to do, and he put the thoughts out of his mind. Just as he started to return to the gallery, Neshi stopped him one more time and handed him a small vial. "Put it in your sash."

Bagoas knew what it was - an oil with which to lubricate himself for penetration. Darius had kept such things in his bed chamber and had instructed the boys when to use them. Now, Bagoas would be responsible for its use, himself. Again, he felt a twinge of fear but did as he was told. When he joined the other boys on the gallery, he heard one of them remark that he looked like a peacock. He looked quickly to see if he could tell who spoke. He couldn't, but noticed the other boys wore clothing of more subdued hues.

Some of the Greek troops had begun to appear in the harem, and the boys turned all their attention downward. At first they seemed to trickle in without any particular plan or purpose. The women on the main floor were certainly being examined in ways the boys had never seen, but not with obvious roughness.

When a new group appeared, apparently the new king was among them. The soldiers withdrew from the women and clustered behind them. After a command from someone - Bagoas could not tell who had issued it - the rough laughter died down. There was silence as the leaders slowly surveyed the grand room. The only sounds to be heard were the occasional twitters of the caged birds and the fountains making gentle splashes.

The boys watched carefully, as did everyone else - wondering who was who. There was no easy way to distinguish the king. The clothes were the same, short skirts and tunic type garments, covered with leather armor. There were no crowns or obvious slaves in attendance, that they could see. Finally, there were two men who stepped forward and were met by some of the Persian nobles. Bagoas noticed when the barbarians' eyes had reached the gallery and the Persian noble Bagoas had seen with Tmarras could be seen talking with the taller of the Macedonian leaders. Their eyes now rested on him. He turned, wanting to slip back behind the curtains, but Tmarras blocked his path. When he looked back to the floor, he noticed the taller of the two prominent men talking with a soldier and pointing in his direction. This time, Tmarras actually opened the curtain, indicating he could exit. As Bagoas slipped through, Tmarras followed him.

The Greek who had had been told to notice him from the floor was on the gallery and walking in their direction. He said something to Tmarras that Bagoas could not understand. Tmarras then called Bagoas to come forward. He hesitated only briefly, but the Greek was already before him. He froze now, not knowing what todo. He decided in an instant that kneeling before him was his safest action and he started to fold to his knees. The Greek, however, said "No. Stand." Bagoas could hardly refuse, so he stood straight, but lowered his head. He noticed without meaning to, that the heavy boots were covered with dirt.

The man's hand came forward and roughly jerked up his head. Bagoas looked into his eyes, not able to look away. "Are you Bagoas? Darius' boy?" the man asked. Bagoas hesitated just a moment, the wild thought running through his mind that he might simply deny his identity. But Tmarras was close, sure to point out his lie and his habit of obedience to those with power over him was strong. "Yes, Lord," he answered, feeling himself starting to tremble.

"Well, step into the light and let me look at you." Bagoas was not sure what he was being asked to do and the man's hand left his chin, grasped his arm and pushed him backwards toward a lamp. Bagoas stumbled back and stood quietly. He glanced at the man briefly, then dipped his head again and tried to make himself small and insignificant. The man roughly shoved his chin upwards again. "Stand up straight," he commanded.

Bagoas obeyed, clenching his teeth. He definitely did not want this man to touch and see him. The man spoke softly, again in words Bagoas did not understand, but held onto his chin more forcefully. There was no help for it now, so he drew himself up straight. Looking the man in the face, however, was not something he could do, and when his chin was released he dropped his head downward again.

At this point, it seemed not to concern the Greek, who used his hands roughly to tear off Bagoas' vest, dropping it on the floor, and handling his body to discover it's firmness and curves. Involuntarily, Bagoas flinched when the man's hand went down the front of his trousers. Frightened though he was, he kept his wits about him enough to realize the man had no knowledge of eunuchs. Somehow, he managed not to struggle.

The Greek laughed and said something Bagoas did not understand. Tmarras interpreted - the Greek was surprised there was a penis. Bagoas said nothing, only feeling the heat rise to his face. Tmarras seemed pleased as he continued talking to the soldier. "Follow me," the Greek commanded, turned and started to walk away. Bagoas glanced briefly at Tmarras. The older man was smiling at him, not kindly, and nodded his head in such a way that Bagoas knew he must obey and he began to follow the Greek down the hallway.

He noticed briefly that Darius' daughter, the royal princess, was approaching the taller of the two prominent Macedonians. Before he could see what was going on, he was whisked away to Darius' bedchamber. He was obviously far more familiar with the great room than the man leading him. He stood quietly in the middle of the room, watching from his downcast eyes as the Greek investigated Darius' private belongings. He wanted to object - this seemed very wrong to him - that rough, dirty hands would handle the belongings of the High King. He remembered the days of training with Oromedon before he was allowed to touch such things. He held his tongue, knowing it was not in his power to protect himself, much less the king's other belongings.

When the man's curiosity seemed sated, he pulled chains out of the pouch at his waist and pointed for Bagoas to move to a column on the edge of the room. The man pulled his arms to embrace the column, then used the chains to bind him there. Maintaining what dignity he could, Bagoas managed not to pull at the chains. The man spoke to him again, but Bagoas did not understand. He simply stood quietly, looking at the floor. The man seemed satisfied and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

Bagoas remembered the last time he had been chained. It was the day of his cutting when he was 8 years old. The fear he had felt that day flooded his mind. But he had as little choice now as he had then. He tested the chains enough to realize he could not escape them. He leaned against the column and watched as the sun went down and the room darkened. If he were able, he would move to open the heavy curtains that covered the windows, letting in some of the cooler night breezes. Finally in exhaustion, he slipped to the floor. He could hear some occasional sounds from the hallway, but no one opened the door. At some point, he slipped into an uneasy sleep.

He awakened quickly as the doors opened abruptly, conversation filling the room. He did not move or make any sound to draw attention to himself. It was the two men he had assumed to be Alexander and his general, accompanied by some soldiers, carrying rough lamps that cast eerie shadows about the room. One lamp was set on a low table; the other remained in the possession of the soldiers. For just a few minutes, there was talking and laughing. But it ended quickly and the soldiers withdrew, darkness settling again. The two men stood silently for a moment, seeming to take in their surroundings as best they could in the darkness. Then the taller man moved to the shorter blond one, drew him close and embraced him warmly. "Well, my Alexander, are you pleased with this kingdom you've won?" Bagoas had no idea what they were saying, but discerned that the blond man with the ungroomed hair was the new king.

"I'd know a little better, Hephaistion, if someone would light these damn lamps." Alexander drew Hephaistion's face to his own and the two men shared a kiss. Bagoas' mind raced. 'Were they lovers? Why was he here?' Then fear consumed him and memories of his days with Datis filled his mind, at least for the moment obliterating all other thought. Finally realizing he should not be seeing these things, he again dropped his head, but in his haste was clumsy, causing the chains on his hands to knock against the marble column to which he was tied. He caught his breath, and saw that both men were looking in his direction. The one called Alexander had pulled his sword and was moving toward him. With his limited range of movement, Bagoas could not put his face on the floor. His heart pounded, sure now the new king would kill him.

But the taller one, the one called 'Phaistion' (as Bagoas managed it in his mind), joined Alexander, pulling his arm down. "No, no, Alexander, let us look first - I think it is Darius' boy, Bagoas. I instructed Menus earlier to bring him here and securely bind him." Moments passed as Hephaistion bent down and tested the security of the chains. Then he commanded "Lift your head, eunuch." This much Bagoas understood and he obeyed instantly. "I found him pretty in the harem this morning, watching us from the balcony. Damn, we do need light!"

As Hephaistion turned, looking for tinder boxes, Alexander relaxed. Bagoas dropped his head again. This time, the king's own hand lifted his face upward, more gently than Hephaistion. "Don't you think Darius' boy would know how to do these things? Unchain him, Hephaistion - he seems harmless enough. And surely he can do these things quicker than you. A great strategist you are, a lamplighter you are not." Both men laughed and Hephaistion approached.

"Stand up" he said, pulling a key from his belt. Bagoas tried, but it was difficult with his arms bound so closely to the column. Hephaistion gave him a moment, but then tired of the wait and put his hands under Bagoas' arms and lifted him into a standing position. The chains were quickly undone and Bagoas managed to catch them before they could clatter to the floor. "Put them down," Hephaistion barked, impatient.

Bagoas understood nothing they were saying. 'Down' registered, but surely they did not want him on the floor again. He looked Hephaistion in the eyes and said "Lord, I do not understand." This registered with Hephaistion, who had some knowledge of the Persian language, and the man's face softened. He took the chains from Bagoas and dropped them on the floor himself. Bagoas jumped at the noise. Hephaistion, pointing, asked "Can you light the lamps?" Bagoas understood the gist of what was asked and murmured assent. He then moved away from the men toward the table where the tinder box was kept. He lit a tinder from the lamp on the table, and went about the room, lighting each lamp in turn. When he was done, he glanced at the men again, waiting for further instructions. But both men seemed to be involved now with examining the glorious fashionings of the room and ignored him. He took it upon himself to pull the curtains open, then slipped quietly into a darkened corner.

When the doors opened again. Bagoas was startled, thinking they were being attacked by assassins, but neither of the Greeks seemed the least concerned. A soldier came in, bringing a jar of wine and goblets. He sat them on the low table that was flanked by two fine chairs, joked for some moments with Alexander and Hephaistion, before leaving.

Hephaistion and Alexander sat in the chairs. Bagoas was not called to attend them and Hephaistion poured the wine, handing a goblet to Alexander. There was quiet conversation and occasional laughter. He stood quietly and simply watched from his downturned eyes, trying to decipher their motions and facial expressions. He occasionally heard Darius' name mentioned, but had no idea of the context. At last the conversation died down and the men looked at each other, stood up, and went toward the Great King's bed. Under different circumstances, Bagoas would have known his duties precisely - to turn back the bed and plump up the pillows - and undress his king. He was unsure now, but moved to the bed and began pulling back the covers. The men seemed to have forgotten he was there, but now their eyes were upon him. He focused on his duties until Alexander reached out and threw him on the bed. Bagoas twisted frantically for a moment, but Alexander held him firmly in place. As quickly as he had begun to struggle, he stopped. "Bagoas, you say," Alexander said to Hephaistion. "Older than I expected; I imagined him still a child." Alexander was silent for some moments, running his fingers gently on the curves of Bagoas' face. "Still, he is very beautiful. His eyes are lovely and I have never seen lips so inviting." Hephaistion laughed, pointing out they were painted. Alexander looked again and smiled. "Still, artfully done. And he smells delightful."

"So, has my gift has pleased you?" Hephaistion asked.

"<i>Your</i> gift, Hephaistion? I own all of this." Alexander said with a smile. He looked down at Bagoas again. "I am pleased that you brought him and I thank you." Though understanding little, Bagoas thought the new king had found him acceptable.

"I was thinking" said Hephaistion "that we could have a bit of sport with him - and learn some of the tricks of his fame." Alexander smiled, but said for tonight he wanted only Hephaistion in his bed. Hephaistion agreed, unable to be disappointed with this idea. Looking at Bagoas, he asked if he should send the boy back to the harem.

"No, no. There will be time to play with him later. If you think he's dangerous, chain him to the column again."

Hephaistion reached out and cupped Bagoas' chin in his hand. "Hardly dangerous. Let him stay."

Bagoas understood nothing. What did they want from him? What should he be doing? He knew there was nowhere he could run. Was he just supposed to lie in the bed where he had been thrown? His mind was in turmoil.

When he saw Alexander start to undress, he moved from the bed uncertainly and went to assist as he had been trained. Alexander seemed surprised to find him unfastening his buckles, but just smiled and let him work. Bagoas was startled when Alexander reached out and stroked his nipples. He stared at the king for a moment. Did the king desire him? When Alexander slipped into the bed without any of the formal ritual, he was at a loss. But Hephaistion was undressing, too, and he moved quickly to assist him. He dropped his eyes as Hephaistion stood naked before him. There were no robes with which to cover him. He started to back away, but Hephaistion quickly took his arm and stopped him. He pulled off Bagoas' trousers and then gently lifted him onto the bed. The small vial fell to the floor and rolled away. He dared not get up to get it, and hoped he would not need it. As frightened as he was, he forced himself to be still. Perhaps they would not hurt him. The men seemed not as fierce as he had feared.

Hephaistion climbed over him to move toward Alexander. They began to stroke one another and Bagoas looked away. He could not help but be aware of what was happening. Their sounds of pleasure were apparent. He felt movement in the bed, and found himself being pulled close by Hephaistion. When the man turned him over and lifted his hips, he wanted to ask for the lubricant, but he did not have the words. He remained quiet as Hephaistion spread his buttocks and began to push his shaft against the small opening. Though he could not see, he knew Alexander was mounting Hephaistion as well. He felt Hephaistion pushing against him and he panicked, making himself tighter. He tried quickly to relax his muscles, but he could not do it quickly enough and Hephaistion pushed past his tight muscles and began to pump. With one final hard push, Hephaistion was done - and Bagoas emitted a squeal of pain he couldn't suppress. Neither man seemed to notice. The sounds of pleasure continued until Alexander was done, then the two of them turned to face one another again, kissing and intertwining their limbs. When their breathing had returned to normal, Hephaistion, without turning to him, told Bagoas to put out the bed chamber lamps.

The boy moved awkwardly from the bed, each movement painful. He put out the lamps and watched in the now shadowy room as the men pulled the bed coverings over themselves. He was given no instructions. He had no idea what to do with himself. Had he been with Darius, he would have washed himself, been dismissed or welcomed into the bed.

But now, he stood alone in the darkened room, trembling both from pain and the shock of what had happened. When they were asleep, he moved quietly to the privy and washed himself. When he was done, he began to look for something with which to cover himself. His trousers were intertwined in the bed clothes and he dared not try to pull them out.

He turned to a far corner of the room and laid himself as easily as he could on the thick carpet, taking what comfort he could from it. This was like the nightmare times in his life before Darius. He choked back tears, determined they would not see him cry. Even with all the self-control he could muster, he did not sleep that night.

To be continued....

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