Chapter 10
Once they had come off the hills and had cleared the trees Leo leaned back against the breast-plate of the rider who held him round the waist.
The horse was thundering across the plain and Leo was trying to dig his heels in as best he could. It felt like flying - the rush of the wind the sheer speed was exhilarating. The only thing he had ever ridden was the old mule at home. This was nothing like that.
He could see the Greek lines more clearly, the clash of spears, the dust.
There were bodies everywhere. There were men clasping grotesque wounds staggering towards the rear.
Then the horse turned towards the hills. Hundreds of arrows shot up like a flock of birds, then fell in a lazy arc into the Persian line.
They thundered past strange wooden machines that fired massive bolts.
Leo had time to turn his head to see one fly into a group of brightly coloured Persians knocking them backwards in shrieking confusion.
The rider tightened his grip around the boy and handed him the reins.
"Hold these. Don't pull on them."
Pantordanus drew his sword. He rode just using his heels. Ahead a small band of Persians had broken off from their left flank and were running for the hills. He swung and sliced through a neck as his horse ploughed into the men. He swung again and made contact. He pulled Leo tight against him as he swung hard, this time to the left. He took a man's arm off. He grabbed the reins again and spurred the horse back to a gallop.
Leo's naked body was covered in blood. He had to wipe it from his eyes.
"Keep still."
The horse slowed to a trot, then to a walk as they made it into the hills.
Archers to the right were firing into the trees. Arrows flew back at them.
Ahead the line of Greek Hoplites was moving through the trees. The trees meant the formation had lost shape. Commanders were screaming at the men to keep a line as they moved forward. It was brutal work.
Officers rushed over to Pantordanus, registering mild surprise to see the bloody boy in his lap.
"Keep the push. Wheel towards the sea once we are behind their lines."
"They have cavalry to the right."
"Our cavalry are joining us shortly. Send the archers up as high as we can to cover the right. We can't afford to stop now."
The officers scattered.
"What is your name young man?"
"Leonnatus, sir."
"From Macedon?"
"Yes sir."
"You have blond hair like Alexander, somewhere under all that blood."
"Yes sir."
"You are not hurt are you?"
"I don't think so sir."
The general urged the horse forward behind the wall of Greek troops.
He spotted a man he knew. "Gracchus!"
A man peeled off the back of the line. He had a small shield and a heavy battle-axe. He was a brute of a man.
"Yes sir?"
"How goes it?"
"They look tougher than they are, sir. I've had six so far."
"Good work."
There was a crashing sound from the rear. He spun the horse around.
Cavalry were arriving from everywhere.
"Where's Peroedas?"
"Yo! Over here!"
They ducked through the trees.
"Persian Cavalry trying to flank us. See, them? Up there. Take them out then join us. We are pushing on, then wheeling in to flank. We need you with us as soon as possible. Don't chase them if they flee."
The horses turned uphill and away.
"Leonnatus. I need to know if we have gone beyond the main Persian line on the plain below these trees. Can you run down and find out for me?"
"Yes sir."
"Good boy."
He swung the boy from his saddle and dropped him on the forest floor.
"Hurry back."
Leo had no time to be afraid. The forest floor was carpeted in soft pine needles that crunched beneath his toes. He stooped as he ran. All around him the shouts and sounds of men in combat. He ran towards the back of the line then turned downhill, dodging between the pine-trees.
An arrow zinged past his head and clattered into the branches behind him.
The hill was so steep that in places he had to slip down on hands and knees. The trees were so thick they seemed to block out the sun.
At last he came to the forest edge. He clung to a tree trunk and peered round.
He was looking at the back of the second Persian line. In the centre of their line a hole was opening up, to allow the Sun-burst chariot to pass through. Leo had a clear view of the Persian King. He was a tall man with skin darker than Leo had ever seen. He stood erect and gripped the hand-rail of the chariot, next to his driver. Once through the line,
Darius, King of Kings, turned again to face his Greek enemies.
Leo turned and scampered back into the forest. To his left shadows were moving through the trees. He was moving as quickly as he could.
Branches were cutting and stinging his arms. His heart was pounding in his ears. There was a sharp crack to his left and he turned just in time to see the Persian soldier who knocked him flying.
Leo tumbled and fell, hitting his back against a rock. The pain was excruciating. He looked up. In the half darkness of the trees he saw the soldier looming over him. The man, through bloody teeth, spoke to him in a language he couldn't understand. The Persian coughed and blood spat out of his mouth. Gripping his stomach the man turned away and stumbled into the darkness of the trees.
"Fuck this!"
Leo picked himself up and ran uphill again, back towards the sound of battle. He made it into a clearing and saw Pantordanus on his horse,
sword drawn.
"My Lord!"
"Leonnatus, what news?"
"You are behind their lines, sir. The second line."
"You mean the one furthest from our troops on the plain?"
"Yes sir. And I saw their King go through it in his big chariot. I think their first line may be breaking or something."
"Good boy. We will begin our swing now to flank them. Now run to Alexander and tell him. Run back through the forest the way we came Leonnatus.
Be quick."
Then the general was gone.
Leo bent over, his hands on his brown thighs. He took a few deep breaths.
Leo ran, jumped over fallen trees and bodies, jinxed this way and that.
He picked up a fallen sword but tossed it away again for it slowed him down. Some of the wounded cried out to him as he ran past. A boy, not much older than him, lay against a tree, holding the stump of his wrist.
His hand had been severed. The fleeting images burned him as he ran on down slopes, hugging the path of a little gully that led down to the plain. When he made it out onto the plain he was well behind the Greek line. He ran now, free as the wind across the flat expanse between him and Alexander.
"Look there!" cried Omega.
High up from their vantage point the boys could see the straw blond hair of a small boy running like a wolf across the plain towards the heaving mass of the Phalanx.
Alexander's Companions wheeled time after time into the centre of the Persian line. Alexander's blood lust was running high and his energy was infectious. They were through the front line of the Persians and battling with the second at the tip of the wedge they had driven through.
"Alexander! Alexander! The boy is back!"
Wheeling away from the front, Alexander's eyes were dark with death.
"What boy?"
Then he saw the little waif. The blond hair reminding him of his own.
"Hello little man, what news?" He smiled broadly at the blood-soaked boy.
"They have got behind the Persian lines on the hills up there and they are beginning to do a flanking thing."
Alexander laughed.
"Is that your blood, little boy?"
Leo looked at himself.
"No sir. I don't know whose blood it is."
Alexander laughed again then turned to the nearest member of the Vanguard.
"Soldier!"
"Yes sir!"
"Take care of this little one."
"Yes sir!"
Alexander kicked his heels and galloped back into the melee.
Xeon grabbed Leo by the shoulder and surrounded the boy with his shield.
"We are safer back in the Phalanx. Keep in front of me at all times,
behind my shield, understood?" Leo nodded.
So Leo's first experience of the Phalanx was at thirteen years old. Behind Xeon's shield he slithered on blood and guts with the rest of them. He saw the flick of blades and heard the screams surround him.
He felt the power of the drive forward, the unstoppable, relentless,
merciless slaughtering machine, all the while being held tight against Xeon's breastplate.
Supported by the Phalanx, Alexander's murderous ferocity split the second Persian line. Alexander was within fifty feet of Darius. The King of Kings looked into the eyes of Alexander for an instant, grabbed the reins from his charioteer, turned tail and fled.
Up on the hillside, the boys heard a wail go up from the Persian army.
Order broke down into chaos. The colourful army unraveled like a garment torn to shreds.
The Phalanx stopped as the cavalry chased down the fleeing army. The chase lasted into the evening. By nightfall the largest army in history was massacred.
Xeon dumped his armour with his friends, stripped bare and marched his naked boy down to the shore.
Soldiers all along the beach were plunging into the sea, horsing around with each other. Glad to be alive.
Xeon stood Leo in the water up to his knees and scooped handfuls of water over the boy. The blood had caked dry. But with salt water and rubbing it came off. He washed the boy's small shoulder blades, and his soft neck, rubbed the congealed blood off his thin arms, splashed water over his flat tummy and grabbed the boy's thighs, squeezing blood and water off as he rubbed down towards Leo's knees. Leo's shins were hairless save for the very finest down.
"Walk out deeper with me."
Leo was up to his chest when the water had barely covered Xeon's waist.
"Dip under the water and get your hair wet."
Spluttering to the surface Xeon massaged the boy's scalp, untangling bloody knots.
"Wash it off again."
"There you go. Clean as a fish." he said as he reached under water to wash Leo's soft crotch. His silky pouch.
"Good boy."
They walked out of the water together.
"I better go find my friends."
"Ok, Leonnatus. " He squeezed his shoulder. "What a story you have to tell them. My name is Xeon, by the way."
"Thank you Xeon. My friends call me Leo. You can call me Leo if you want."
Xeon smiled. "Oh my friends have already given you a nickname."
"What?"
"Little Alexander."
Leo grinned the same smile that melted his mother's heart, turned, and ran down the beach towards the baggage train.
Cleitus the Round, a fresh scar on his cheek, wandered down the beach holding out a rag for Xeon to dry himself.
"Oh dear, Xeon, do I sense you have found something worth fighting for after all?"
They watched the boy disappear down the beach.
"Alexander gave him to me. What does it mean?"
"Come on," Cleitus smiled, "There's roast boar on the spit and an entire wagon of Persian wine that needs drinking." He clapped his arm around his friend's shoulder and they made their way back to the fire.
Chapter 11 Campfire
Leo found his friends huddled around a camp fire. Draxus saw him first,
coming out of the darkness and burst into tears.
"Leo!"
There were hugs all round. The twins found him one of the cloaks they had scavenged off the Persians and he wrapped himself in its warm folds.
"These cloaks are good."
"We found loads of them, in a cart, AND," Machers boasted: "All this too!" He lifted up one of the spare cloaks that hid a pile of sweet- meats, figs and dates, cured meat and fruit and a dozen craters of wine.
Leo laughed, and found his teeth were chattering. The heat of day had gone and the air had a chill in it.
"So what happened then?"
"Let's get the food on first."
Before they settled down to hear his story the twins fetched wine and mixed it with water like they did back home. They stuck a plucked chicken on a long stick and let it roast over the fire.
Leo noted that Omega accepted Macher's offer to share his cloak with him, and the two boys sat wrapped together.
He took his time, trying not to miss any detail, no matter how slight.
When he told them of his dash back across the plain to get to Alexander they nodded excitedly and told him they had seen him from the lookout point.
Draxus went white when Leo told them about the boy with a severed hand,
and as Leo described the time inside the Phalanx Drax invited himself inside Leo's cloak.
No sooner had he reached the end of all there was to tell, other boys from the new recruits saw that he was back and asked to hear the story,
so he had to begin all over. His friends backed him up and added details from what they had seen themselves.
It was late before the crowd drifted away, with Leo now a little hero.
The brutality of the battle he had described meant that many of the boys who had heard him slept fitfully that night.
Machers had listened to the story wrapped up with Omega. He had summoned up the courage to put his hand on the boy's thigh where it had stayed all night, inching imperceptibly lower. The slow progress was driving him mad, but he didn't dare be bolder. When some point in the story caused the crowd to gasp, Machers took the chance to stretch his arms and then thrust his hand lower still down the inside of the boy's soft thighs, sandwiched between his smooth legs. Omega pulled the cloak tighter around them, shifting position and suddenly the boy's stiff cock was between Macher's fingers.
Surrounded by boys from the troop, Machers barely moved as he fondled and squeezed under the cloak. He was in rapture most of the night with this simple gentle fondling until a warm stickiness dribbled down his fingers and Omega let out a sigh. Turning to look at Omega's soft downy cheek and long eyelashes Machers himself cummed without so much as a finger having touched his own dick.
When, at last, the friends lay down to sleep they all went to their own dreams.
Drax tossed and turned, dreaming of the violence. Leo snuggled alongside him and soothed his forehead. The two boys fitting together like spoons.
Omega curled up with his brother dreaming of the warm hand squeezing and fondling. He dreamed what it would be like to have wanked Machers back, imagined gripping the older boy's penis and slowly wanking it to orgasm. He dreamed he could feel it, the thickness, the soft swollen head under the foreskin.
Alpha lay with his hands behind his head, wide awake as his dreaming brother's hand fondled his erection. He smiled to think how much Machers would pay to see what was going on under their cloak. He thought he should gently pry his brother's fingers from his dick, but the pleasure was too strong and he let it go all the way to the point were he coated his brothers gentle hand with his own cum, then turned on his side and fell fast asleep.
Machers was not sleepy. He stoked the fire, then left and climbed the hill, back to the vantage point. Everything looked different in the dark, and several times he thought he had lost the way. But finally he found the clearing and sat on the edge, looking out over the battlefield.
Funeral pyres dotted the darkness all the way across the plain. He could hear the sound of waves crashing on the beach. He sat very still,
listening to the darkness and watching the fires burning below him.
He felt a very long way from home.
Chapter 12 The Games
The camp was buzzing with the news that Alexander had ordered an Army Games. Training would begin immediately in a Gymnasium the engineers were to build by the sea.
The games were to keep the army fit and lean, while cavalry operations and occasional skirmishes took place securing the Mediterranean sea-ports.
The commander of the new recruits said the games were a god-send. It would allow the boys to show off their skills to company commanders who would take their pick and make their assignments after the games were over. The boys were to take part in a boy's competition that would precede the games proper.
Leo would take part in the sprint, as would the twins. Machers chose javelin.
"But what am I going to do?"
Draxsus looked glum.
"Wrestling?" Suggested Machers.
"Fuck off."
"Discus?"
"Have you seen the boys doing discus? They are all built like bulls."
It was a problem and they couldn't come up with a decent idea between them. They asked the Commander.
"Discus."
"But sir!"
"Discus."
"I am too weedy."
"Trust me son. Discus."
So discus it was.
The Gymnasium was built in a natural amphitheatre in the hills looking out over the sea. The engineers had to flatten some land to make the oval running track, throw up a colonnaded area for preparing and build the baths and saunas. The hillside was ideal for spectators and there was no need for additional bleachers.
The boys had two periods for training, dawn and mid-day. At first the troop that had been with the boys on the march mentored them. But after a while the boys drew crowds of spectators and offers came in from genuine athletes who were prepared to coach.
For many of the boys this was the first time they had been the objects of such attention from fully grown men. The main discus coach emerged to be a man called Kalix. He was a massive brute of a man with hands like spades and thighs like tree-trunks. When he rotated and let the discus fly you'd think it was never going to come down. Most of the boys who had volunteered for discuss were either fat lumps or stocky kids grown broad-shouldered and strong on the farms of home. Draxus looked sorely out of place, yet Kalix paid him the same attention, even more attention than the other kids. In the morning Kalix would be there to supervise the oiling. He would assign the boys to oil each other but often as not he would oil Drax himself. With the naked boy standing shivering in front of him, Kalix, himself already stripped and oiled,
would oil his meaty hands carefully, before grabbing Drax's arm or thigh and coating it thoroughly from top to bottom. His hands would smear up and down Drax's skinny chest and stomach, then he would turn him around and grab the boy's buttocks, one in each hand, making sure the oil was smooth and right up the boy's crack. He paid particular attention to Drax's feet, sitting him down and lifting each foot in turn onto his thick thigh, oiling in between the toes. He always left Drax's cock till last, but would slowly oil his hands, rubbing them together before reaching down and squishing the oil around Drax's cock and balls.
Drax was too terrified to get an erection or he surely would have.
Following the oiling Kalix would dust Drax down with a fine sand and declare him fit to train.
Kalix coached Drax differently too. Most of the boys he coached he made do exercises designed to strengthen the arms. There were heavy balls filled with sand that they would have to throw to each other until they could no longer lift them.
In Drax's case that was after three or four throws. But rather than shout at him, as he did with the stronger boys, he would take Drax off to practice the spin. Drax spent hours getting dizzy, turning heel and toe, heel and toe.
At the end of training the boys would watch Kalix go to work on Drax again, this time scraping off the dust and sweat with a fine curved tool.
It made quite a sight to see the massively powerful shoulders of Kalix flex as with great precision he smoothed off the dirt and oil from the skinny boy.
Leo and the twins had trainers from the light infantry. The twins oiled each other but there was no shortage of men who wanted to oil Leo. His oiling seemed to take twice as long as the other boys. He didn't know it, but soldiers were placing bets on who would be first to make him hard and the series of volunteers were under their own set of rules.
Oiling Leo could take as long as you liked as long as fondling of his cock was no more than seven seconds.
A new rule had to be introduced when one soldier spent a ridiculous amount of time oiling Leo's anus, much to the discomfort of the boy.
The soldiers who came to watch gained almost as much pleasure from watching him run as watching him get oiled. Leo's speed was breathtaking and he had extra bursts of energy in his running that were dazzling. His training involved lying on his back, pushing up heavy bags of sand with his feet, or running in the sea up to his waist in water.
Xeon came to watch the boys' training and brought his friends with him.
"Where's our little Alexander?" asked Cleitus. Syphes had never seen the boy, he had been miles away scouting round the back of the Persian position during the battle. "There he is, I think." said Polymedes.
Leo was being oiled by a big bearded oaf of an engineer. He had his arms in the air above his head as the man's big hand was pumping his limp cock.
The seven seconds were up and there were whistles and cat-calls from the large crowd.
"By Zeus!" said Xeon, turning red with anger.
The bearded man let go the boy's limp cock, turned and shrugged at the crowd, and then continued oiling Leo's back.
By this point, Leo knew what was going on. The series of men who oiled him were now paying a fee to the coaches for the privilege. In the beginning,
those who tried had spent their seven seconds with gentle fondles. Now the general technique was overt masturbation. In order to get through the seven seconds Leo stared at a fixed point and thought only of his grandmother.
"What are they doing to him?" exclaimed Xeon.
"Wanking him, by the looks of things." replied Polymedes unhelpfully.
Syphes wandered over to the crowd watching the oiling, and soon returned.
"You should have a go, Xeon. The bet on who can give him an erection is up to 200 drachma."
"Zeus!"
The training began, and Leo was now out on the track, running circuits.
"Perhaps we better go."
"Don't be a prick, Xeon," said Polymedes, "We just got here."
Leo spotted Xeon on the grass and his face lit up.
"Oh fuck! He's coming over here!"
Leo ran up, glistening with oil and sweat. He was a picture of young adolescent beauty, shining like gold in the weak morning sun.
"Hi Xeon! What are you doing here."
"Er, we just came to watch for a bit. You know my friends I think."
Cleitus the round waved, "Hi Little Alexander." Polymedes waved and wandered off. Syphes said "Nice to meet you. Who's worth a bet?"
Leo smiled and pointed: "See that boy down there with the birthmark on his leg? He is Drapsus and is pretty fast, but I'm gonna win. Anyway,
I better get back. Will you stay and watch me for a bit?"
"Sure."
Syphes went to check out the betting leaving Xeon and Cleitus alone.
"I want him Cleitus."
"So do half the men in the army."
"No, I mean I want to love him."
"I'll admit he's beautiful."
"And brave. Outstandingly brave. I can't keep my eyes off him."
There was a long silence as both men watched him sprint. From time to time he would wave over to them.
"I want to join the Sacred Band with him."
"What? You can't be serious."
"I am."
"And leave the Phalanx?"
"I have been thinking about it."
"You are crazy. You'd leave your friends? Are you mad? We have kept each other alive. Who do you want protecting you? A waif like that or an ox like me? Be serious. The whole Sacred Band idea, is just one of Alexander's romantic fantasies."
"We wouldn't have to break up. You and Polymedes could come with me."
"What? Now I know you are off your head."
"I'm serious, come with me. It's time you took a boy under your wing.
You would make an excellent mentor. You've mentored me all these years."
"Xeon...."
"I'm serious."
"No way. No fucking way."
"Well at least give it a try. Listen to me. Little Alexander has a friend called Lysimachus. He is devoted to him and probably would not join me if it meant leaving him."
"How do you know this?"
"I spoke to their commander. Anyway, Lysimachus is in the boys' games in the Javelin which is your skill. Coach him for the games. If you don't take to him, fair enough."
"You have worked all this out haven't you."
"I'm a soldier, and what's our motto? Prepare, prepare, prepare."
"And what about Polymedes?"
"Little Alexander has other friends who are twins..."
"In the name of the gods! Well that would suit his vanity, but you really want to put two boys with that madman?"
"It might do him some good."
Leo shot past them well in the lead of his race.
"How old is this Lysimachus anyway?"
"Fifteen."
"A virgin?"
"Definitely."
Please, if you are enjoying this, let me know. gayauthor@hushmail.com Also, perhaps tell me a little, true, story of your own. Or something to reward me, if you are feeling generous.