Little Alexander

Chapter 16

It was dark when Leo set off on his walk through the camp. He was naked under the Persian cloak he had wrapped tightly around him.

He picked his way forward, past the corals full of horses that snorted at him as he passed. The engineers' camp was close to the gymnasium.

He skirted round, past groups of men huddled over their fires. The night had a chill to it. He hurried past the massive rough wooden catapults down into the camp of the Vanguard, picking his way carefully through the stacks of spears and make-shift beds.

Once he was close to Xeon's fire, he shrugged off his cloak and hid it behind a tent, then went forward naked.

"Hello, little Alexander."

The broad beaming face of Cleitus greeted him.

"By the gods! Aren't you cold?"

"I don't feel it."

Polymedes was stoking the fire. "They must be making them tough in Macedonia these days."

Xeon had been snoozing on his bed. He looked up in surprise. "Hello Leo."

"Hello Xeon." Leo looked embarrassed.

"You must be freezing!"

"No I don't feel it, really."

"Well come and get warm by the fire. Do you want a cloak."

"No thank you. I'll stand by the fire though if that's alright."

Leo stood, rubbing his knees together, holding his hands out to the fire.

The golden light licked along the curves of his body. His shin's and thighs glowed and his limp cock seemed to have been painted with a streak of gold. Xeon and the other men drank him in: his golden hair, the soft sweep of his neck, his tight chest and flat soft stomach, his beautiful arms that danced above the fire. Xeon was staring helplessly at the boy. The slightly snubbed upturned nose, the soft cheeks and a mouth that could have been chiseled by a sculptor.

"It's nice to see you, Leo."

"Thanks."

"To what do we owe the honour?"

"Er, I wanted to ask you if you would oil me tomorrow at practice Xeon."

"I see."

"It's just that these other men do it, but I don't really like the way they do it."

Polymedes stifled a laugh.

"I'd like it if you did it."

"I'll do it for you right now if you like." Offered Polymedes. Xeon cast him a dirty look.

"Sure he will." said Cleitus, beaming. "You'd love to, wouldn't you Xeon?"

"Well..."

"That's settled then. Now Leo, how about a little wine?"

"Oh yes," said Polymedes, "let's get him drunk."

Leo sat crossed-legged in the sand, listening to the soldiers as they drank. Their stories got more and more lewd and wild. It was easy to tell that they had repeated these old war stories to each other many times before. They roared with laughter as Cleitus boasted:

"As soon as I got to the top of the ladder I swung my axe and with one blow felled six men..."

"Oh! SIX is it now?"

"Yes six."

"Not three?"

"No six. At least six. But I wasn't really counting."

They laughed and refilled their cups till they had drunk themselves to the point of sadness.

"It's not all glory Little Alexander." moaned Polymedes. "Shall I tell him about Thebes?"

"No." said Xeon.

"He should know that kind of thing."

"No."

"What about Thebes? What happened?"

"You don't want to know little 'Skander."

"I think I should tell him."

"Time for bed." said Xeon, standing up.

"Spoil sport." hissed Polymedes.

"Come on Leo, you should be heading back to the recruits."

"I'm quite tired actually. Really tired." said Leo yawning and stretching his thin arms.

"For the gods' sake man, let the poor little mite sleep with you tonight Xeon. Can't you see he's exhausted?"

Xeon looked confused. Leo's little golden face was looking up at him from where he sat, grinning sheepishly.

"Come on little man," said Xeon, "I'll give you a piggy-back."

Cleitus sighed and Polymedes rolled onto his back and passed out.

Xeon carried Leo on his broad shoulders through the camp. His warm hands rested on the boy's soft knees to steady him and he could feel the boy's soft cock against the back of his neck. Leo's hands rested on the top of his head. As they walked Leo reached down and ran his small fingers over Xeon's cheeks.

"You're all stubbly."

Leo's little feet were pressing under his armpits for balance.

"And you are all soft, young man." said Xeon, rubbing along the top of Leo's thighs.

Xeon's heart was pounding. The boy was so light upon his shoulders.

He was such a precious cargo, such a beautiful burden.

The feel of the man's hands on his legs. The bouncing of his thighs on Xeon's strong shoulders, the tickle from his neck soon had Leo erect.

"Xeon, can I ask you something? ... Do you love me?" he whispered.

Xeon thought his heart would explode.

The boy whispered quickly, "Because I love you."

Xeon could not answer. Tears were streaming down his face. The mention of Thebes where another, desperate boy had tried to whisper something to him in his dreams, and now this. Was this boy sent from the gods to whisper these words in his ears? As he walked on, the boy's hands again caressed his cheeks, finding his tears. "I'm sorry Xeon, I didn't mean anything. I'm sorry."

Xeon raised his arms and lifted the boy under his armpits. He lifted him easily over his head and stood him on the ground. Leo turned anxiously looking up into Xeon's face.

Xeon stared a long time at Leo in the moonlight.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing Leo."

He tilted the boy's head back and leaned down. His lips brushed the boys mouth very gently. The boy's lips parted a fraction. His nose rubbed against the little button nose. He raised his hand and stroked the boy's soft cheek as he pressed against his lips. Leo's mouth opened to allow the man in. He could taste the boy's sweet tongue, the warm intimacy of his mouth. Leo was shaking as he kissed him. The boy's awkward hands shook as they touched his shoulders. Leo tasted of milk and honey.

He pulled away. The boy's eyes were closed, his wet mouth still open.

"Goodnight little Alexander."

"Stay with me tonight. You can have me... Please."

"Goodnight Leo."

Xeon disappeared into the dark.

Leo skipped back to the fire, wrapping his arms around himself.

"Let me share with you Draxus. I'm fucking freezing!"

Chapter 17

"It doesn't matter to me if you are all in the boy fuckers' brigade," said Syphes, "I'm a scout."

"The Sacred Band."

"Sacred boy fuckers' brigade, it's all the same to me."

"You could join us. Have you seen those twins?"

"Yes I have and no deal. No fucking deal, understand me?"

"It's your loss."

"I don't think so. Scouting - I have been involved in how many fights?

Remember? Just one. Anyone wants to fight us we have orders to run away which suits me fine. Oh, and if you think the Phalanx is in the thick of every fight, you just wait till Alexander has his Sacred Band together! You guys will be his elite little unit given every job that would scare other units shitless."

"The greater the honour." said Xeon.

"Xeon, you are a nice guy, but you are letting your dick rule your head."

"I've got to agree with him." Polymedes chimed in.

"See, Polymedes isn't going to have one of the twins either. He's got sense. Think about it. On top of being in the worst part of every fight you are going to have to protect a bunch of little boys! I mean I know that your little Leo has a nice dick and a pretty arse, but to be honest you want a man like Cleitus beside you, not some boy with a sticky cock!"

"Cleitus will be beside me."

"By Zeus you are stubborn."

"Leo is going to be a great warrior."

"Oh one day perhaps. One day if he ever lives long enough to learn how to fight. Alright, alright, think about it from his point of view if you really love the little fucker. He is how many years old?"

"Thirteen."

"Thirteen, alright. So you are going to take a thirteen year old boy and put him in the fiercest part of every battle. Strange way to love someone, to sentence them to death. How old is Lysimachus, Cleitus?"

"Fifteen." Cleitus grumbled.

"Alright well that's a little older."

"Alexander was sixteen when he first commanded us in Greece."

"I still think you are both mad."

"Anyway, I never said I wanted you to join us, you are too valuable to us as a scout."

"Xeon, do I have to spell this out to you? You can do what you fucking like, but if I am being selfish I would just like to keep some friends,

rather than see you all march off to your death. Together, the three of you have been unbeatable. Death can't get through your shields. We have made a great team. Bring these boys into it and it is all going to go to the dogs."

"You've made your point."

"Anyway, I'm the one in the shit." Said Polymedes. "Stay, and I have to hook up with some of the other guys. Go, and I have to look after some snotty kid."

"A pair of snotty kids."

"Those twins?"

"Yes the runners."

"The thin ones."

"Oh fuck this!" swore Syphes. "Don't even think about it, Polymedes!

Besides, you don't like boys."

"True, but then again, one at both ends..."

The laughter broke the tension.

Chapter 18 The Games

Xeon didn't show up to oil Leo the following day, nor the next. Nor did he come to watch the boy train. As the day for the games drew near Leo spotted Cleitus in the crowd and ran to him, elbowing his way through,

pushing away hands that were grabbing for his sweaty dick.

"Cleitus, where's Xeon?"

"He'll be here for the games, don't worry."

"Why doesn't he come to watch me?"

Cleitus bent down and prised a man's hand from Leo's cock. "Let the boy be now." he growled. "I don't know Leo, he won't tell me."

"Does he hate me?"

"No Leo, not at all. If anything he feels too strongly for you."

"Well, will you tell him I miss him?"

"You'll see him soon, the games are only three days away."

Three days that passed in a flash. The boys were dispensed from their usual chores and spent all day training. The final day, after gathering the boys together for a run-through of the order for the games, the trainers told them to take the rest of the day off and gave them strict instructions not to train.

"And one final thing boys." The excited chatter hushed. "No masturbation.

Masturbation will sap your energy, so save it for after the games. Dismissed."

The boys spent all afternoon at the lookout point, chatting and basking in the sun. Drax bored everyone by flexing his new muscles over and over, showing proudly the result of all his water carrying.

Late in the afternoon the boys looked down on a cavalry troop that thundered across the plain. Hundreds of horsemen arriving from the south, and in the middle, the distinctive figure of Alexander himself.

"Alexander will be watching us!"

With all the excitement the boys found it hard to sleep. Machers found that cumming usually helped him sleep, but even he resisted the temptation,

and dreamed of the javelin instead, and Cleitus' warm rough hands.

"Wake up sleepy head!" Leo was kicking them awake. "Let's go for a swim to wake up."

"Are you nuts? It's freezing."

But off they went, five shivering boys, rushing down into the chill November swell of the Mediterranean, then screaming from the cold, back up the beach to their pile of cloaks, teeth chattering.

The games were scheduled for late afternoon. The crowd gathered early with men pushing to get the best places to sit on the grassy banks of the track. A roar went up when Alexander arrived, surrounded by his Companions. He sat like the rest of the men, on the grass to enjoy the spectacle.

The boys were led into the gymnasium in front of the crowd, where they stripped. Bets were being made amongst the crowd, with the form of the boys being hotly debated and odds agreed. Leo was favourite for the sprint, but only just. The boy Drapsus was very quick. He was taller and longer legged than Leo and was a serious contender. Many of the soldiers had admired his early morning sprints along the beach.

The crowd roared approval again when Alexander called over one of the book-makers to place a bet of his own.

Leo pulled his chiton over his head, chatting excitedly to Draxus. When the order came to oil, he turned to find Xeon standing behind him, naked except for a towel over his arm and a bottle of oil.

Xeon smiled. "They all said I had to do it at least once before the games are over."

"Xeon!" Leo threw his arms around the man's neck and hung there, his feet off the ground. There was a ripple of applause amongst the crowd.

"Come on little man, let's get to it."

Leo turned and Xeon began with his shoulders, massaging the oil into the soft rounded muscles. Olive oil trickled down the boy's soft forearms and he felt Xeon's warm hands smooth down his arms, over his elbows.

Xeon stepped in front of him and placed Leo's wrist on his shoulder while he smeared under his armpit and down his ribs. Leo has a tiny tuft of blond hair in his armpit now which tickled as the man's fingers pushed through it.

Xeon poured oil into his hands, rubbing them together before taking Leo by his smooth neck, feeling the boy's Adam's apple, then oiling his collarbone then down to his tiny nipples. Without thinking Leo turned his back to Xeon, so that he faced the crowd. There was uproar.

Leo was fully erect. His chubby cock was swollen and his foreskin stretched tight. Leo realized what had happened and turned away in embarrassment.

Xeon stood up, smiling, seeing the effect he had had on the small boy.

A cry came from the crowd: "Turn round Little Alexander!" Others took up the cry and soon the whole crowd was joined in. "Turn around, turn around, turn around..." the noise was deafening.

Xeon smiled at the red face of Leo.

"Nothing to be ashamed of Leo."

He put his hands on the boy's shoulders and turned him to face the crowd.

A hoot of approval and applause rang out. Alexander himself was laughing and slapping Hephaestion on the back.

Despite his embarrassment, Leo was still reacting to the strong hands that massaged his lithe body. As Xeon gripped his thigh between both hands and smoothed down with the oil his cock jumped again. Xeon was swirling oily fingertips at the back of his knees which sent shockwaves up his whole body. Xeon was squatting down in front of him now, taking his foot and putting it on his broad thigh. Oily fingers were squeezing in between his toes. He rested one hand on the man's broad shoulder for balance.

When Xeon had massaged both feet he stood up. He too was erect, his large swollen penis thrusting up from a dark, dense pubic hair. From the thick patch of hair above his cock, Leo could see a little line of hairs run up to Xeon's belly button. Xeon's broad shoulders, narrow hips and strong thighs exuded adult masculinity.

Xeon mover behind the boy again and the crowd roared as he went to work on the boy's buttocks. Oil trickled down his butt crack. Leo's arms were at his side, his fists and buttocks clenched, his eyes were shut tight as Xeon wheedled in a finger between the clenched cheeks.

When Xeon touched his sensitive pink anus, Leo couldn't help himself.

Every muscle in his body was tensed; the tickle of the finger sent a spasm through his whole body and cum spat from the tip of his straining cock.

The crowd was in pandemonium. The bookies were overwhelmed by punters changing their bets to Drapsus. People were clapping and shouting and waving fists at Xeon. A trainer rushed forward. "That is strictly not allowed!"

Calmly, Xeon poured out a little more oil into the palm of his hand and gently fondled Leo's erection, oiling his balls, peeling back the boy's foreskin to soothe the swollen head. Smearing the oil and cum together.

He whispered in the boy's ear. "You better win the race for me Leo,

or I am in BIG trouble." But his face, as he left the boy, was all smiles.

Moving through the muttering crowd, Xeon said over and over again: "You saw for yourself, I never touched his dick." Cleitus was quickly by his side, Polymedes at the other, making space.

Syphes was at a bookmaker, whispering urgently in his ear. The bookmaker raised his hands and the crowd hushed to hear him.

"Xeon, the soldier oiling Little Alexander, has a big bet on Little Alexander to win."

The news helped the hostility to melt away. Soldiers now swarmed around Xeon asking him if he still thought the boy could win. The odds had improved and many took a new bet.

The games began with the fights. These savage bare-knuckle contests were to the finish. In the boys games they ended when a boy could no longer get up. In the adult version they could end in death. One fat boy who had struggled throughout training, nevertheless proved ferocious in a fight. He pummeled his opponent in the first round, cracked open the head of a strongly built boy in the second, and bit the ear off his opponent in the final.

"Ouch!" Said Cleitus. "That's the sort of boy for you, Polymedes!"

Alexander walked into the arena and held the fat boy's arm aloft, kissed him on both cheeks and placed a garland of olive leaves on his head.

"Nothing Alexander likes more than a bit of bloodshed."

Then it was the Javelin.

Six boys stood at the end of the arena closest to Alexander. A line was drawn in the sand. Each boy had two weapons.

The first launched the javelin high into the air. It stalled and landed flat on the ground.

"Doesn't count." Said Cleitus.

The other boys launched, one by one. Their style of throwing won ripples of applause. Where the weapons landed point first, judges stuck them in upright to mark the distance.

It was the turn of Lysimachus. Cleitus was sitting on his hands looking at the floor. Xeon massaged his shoulders. "Watch him. You may need to give him advice."

Machers looked at the crowd and the sweaty faces of his competitors.

He looked down the range and thought of the battle of Issus. Ahead of him were the Persians. Beside him, Cleitus was readying for a throw.

Alongside him the Phalanx was moving.

The fifteen year old lost his gawkiness. He ran towards the line, twisting backwards, the point of the javelin by his right ear. He released like a spring, rotating across his chest, his left arm counterbalancing. Mid-rotation he released, and sent the spear flying like an arrow from his open hand. Still rotating like a whip, he hopped to a halt. The javelin seemed to hang in the air, then dropped, point first.

The crowd erupted.

"Well done, Cleitus, you old fox!" Xeon slapped him on the back. "Outstanding."

"He has a very supple body."

"No doubt." said Polymedes.

The crowd was buzzing, while the remainder of the boys threw. No one came close to the first throw of Lysimachus.

Then it was his turn again. The crowd hushed.

Alexander was on his feet. "A new wager!"

The crowd roared. Alexander spoke to a bodyguard and the man disappeared.

He re-appeared at the end of the range dragging a sheep. He hammered an iron ring into the ground about ten feet further than Lysimachus had thrown before. The sheep was tethered to the ring.

"A thousand Drachma if you can hit it before I do."

The crowd roared again as Alexander pulled off his clothes and joined Lysimachus in the stadium.

The bookmakers were going insane as the crowd rushed to place bets.

When Alexander picked up a javelin the crowd hushed. As he tried to find one to his liking, the crowd were presented to a close-up view of their commander. His naked body was breathtaking. It rippled and shimmered with muscle and sinew. At twenty one, Alexander was already heavily scarred on his arms. His chest bore the puncture wound of an arrow.

His neck had an angry red line where he had been hit by a blade, accounting for his habit of leaning his head to one side when he spoke.

King Philip would never have gone head to head with a soldier in a contest,

let alone a fifteen year old boy. But Alexander would. He was a King they could see and touch, scarred like them, always in the thick of battle,

never removed from his men.

He slapped Lysimachus on the butt. "Come on. You first."

Machers wiped the sweat from his eyes and peered down the range, squinting at the sunlight. He ran, aiming with his free arm as he had been taught,

and ripping the javelin into the air.

"Oh fuck," said Cleitus, "He's going to hit it!"

The javelin missed the sheep by a matter of inches.

The crowd let out an "oooooOOOOOhhhh!", gasped, then roared with laughter.

Alexander winked at Machers.

Anyone who ever saw Alexander in combat, even in mock combat with a javelin,

never forgot the sight. It was as if he was made for it. His body released like a coiled spring with so much force that the javelin juddered as it flew.

The crowd willed it to bury itself in the sheep.

It flew past, ten feet too far.

In the hubbub that followed, Machers chose another weapon and prepared himself.

He launched it into the blistering blue sky.

When it fell, the only sound in the stadium was the screech from the stricken sheep. The crowd were dumbstruck. They turned to Alexander to see what he would do.

Alexander turned to Lysimachus, gripped him by the wrist and raised his hand into the air. The place exploded. The other contestants gathered around Machers and Alexander patting them both on the back. Alexander ruffled their hair and beamed his smile all round before sprinting back into the Companions. Machers was garlanded and saluted the crowd. Spotting Cleitus he clambered through the crowd to get to him, while the officials prepared for the next event.

"Well, son," Cleitus beamed, "that was either very brave or very foolish."

"What do you mean?"

Polymedes laughed. "The gods gave him a good arm and a pretty butt in exchange for giving him no brains."

"Was I supposed to lose?"

"You see, the boy's a quick learner!"

They slapped him on the back and told him to sit down and watch the discus.

Draxus had been right about the boys in the discus competition. They were beefy, hefty lumps, and they could throw. The competition was outstanding with one large boy in particular, throwing way beyond the competition with his first throw.

When Draxus came to throw a wave of laughter shot through the crowd before

they hushed to see his performance.

Draxus looked nothing like the classical statues of discus throwers, all perfectly proportioned. He was a skinny kid. But he adopted the pose, discus down, left arm pointing at the sky. He swung the discus,

once, twice, and on the third began his rotation.

To be precise, he span like a top. His discus arm whipped through and the disc shot off. It was not a winning throw, falling just short of the leader, but it had beaten the rest of the pack. Of all that happened that day, it was that throw that had the whole camp debating for many months the merit of technique over power, rotation over strength. Alexander used it as a lesson to his commanders of the importance of training in maximizing the effectiveness of a smaller force. It made Draxus the talk of the camp, which was very rare in the culture of the army that treated the victors like gods, and those in second place as if they had never existed.

Before the final event, the boys' sprint, Alexander interrupted the games to distribute roast ox and pitchers of wine amongst the troops. By the time the race was set to start the men were merry and their stomachs full, the noise in the natural amphitheatre was deafening.

The race was simple. A one hundred yard sprint. The finishing line was close to Alexander, the boys starting in the distance.

Before the race, the oiled boys presented themselves for the inspection of the crowd. A lap of honour before the race. The crowd took delight in the young smooth bodies on display, arguing about them, and shouting to the boys to bend or flex to make a point to their friends.

Leo lined up with the rest, bent at the knees, his toes getting a grip on the rough sand beneath his feet. Drapsus looked over at him, then down the track to the finish.

Drapsus got an excellent start. He powered down the track ahead of the field. His movement was sharp and quick, his head was back and his arms were pumping.

Leo seemed to be running much slower. His stride was long and fluid; he seemed perfectly balanced as he swept down the track.

Half way and Leo was level.

The crowd seemed to be frozen in air as they threw up their arms urging the boys on.

Drapsus needed to respond. His eyes bulged, his neck tensed. He tried to increase his pace but Leo simply floated past him, hardly seeming to touch the ground.

He was running in the hills by his home again, running free and graceful without a care in the world.

He crossed the line and the crowd surged forward. All the soldiers who had oiled him, those who had bet on him to win, the soldiers of the Phalanx who had seen him run for Alexander, the crowd that had watched him train day after day: they lifted their boy aloft and let out the war cry of the army: "Alaialaialaialai!"

The Companions cleared the way for Alexander through the crowd so he could crown the victor.

The little boy stood in a circle of men, hands on his hips, breathing hard.

"You are the one they call Little Alexander?"

"Yes my Lord."

"Aren't you my messenger boy from Issus?"

"Yes my Lord."

Alexander held the red sweaty cheeks of the boy in his hands. He ruffled his blond hair. "I see why they call you Little Alexander. You are very quick, Little Alexander, and very beautiful."

"Kiss him my Lord!" someone in the crowd cried out. Alexander looked around smiling. Hephaestion didn't look so pleased.

"Yes kiss him!" The crowd was pressing him.

Alexander bent down and kissed him on the lips. He was surprised when the boy's mouth opened and invited him in. He pulled the boy into his arms and kissed him deeply as the crowd whooped their approval.

"You taste of honey, little Alexander. The food of the gods." Then turning to the crowd he raised Leo's arm and said "Hail to the victor!"

That night Leo, Machers, Draxus and the twins joined Xeon and his friends in the camp of the Vanguard. Leo and Machers wore their garlands on their heads. Plenty of admirers stopped by to add their words of praise as the boys lay in the glow of the fire, re-living the day.

Xeon asked Leo to join him and they walked slowly down to the shore.

Leo took the garland from his head and held it out.

"You wear it."

Xeon laughed, "No Leo, I didn't win it, you did."

"I want you to have it though."

Xeon stopped. He took the garland. "Thank you Leo. I'll keep it for you, but I won't ever wear it. It wouldn't be right."

The moon over the sea was full. It sent ripples of silver with every wave that lapped against the shore.

They sat on the beach in silence, looking out to sea. Minutes passed.

"I don't know how to ask this Leo...."

He couldn't look at him.

"Would you... I mean could we...?"

What were the right words?

"Can I be your lover, Little Alexander?"

Leo came and sat in his lap. He wrapped his arms around the boy and placed his cheek against the boy's soft cheek.

Leo sniffed.

"I don't want you kissing me with that stubbly chin though."

Please, if you liked this story, send me a picture of a boy you think looks like our little Leo. gayauthor@hushmail.com