Book 1, Chapter Four: The Olympic Games, Pages 77 and 78
So, my friends,
let us make our return to the past.
Here, days later, after our hero Alexander’s bold bet with Philip.
See with me, in your mind:
royal ships
and white-cream sails,
the sun-baked, salt-tinged vibrato of men solid, crying
“O opo!”
“O opo!”
their oars forward and back,
as they carry prince and cargo
onwards to the Olympic Games.
“Ugh,”
is the exasperation of Alexander, head in hands.
“I wish I was doing anything
but this.”
Beside him
is our Hephaestion,
already half a head taller than Alexander,
seated together on a bench at the end of the galley,
pats his friend’s back in comfort. He says,
“Aw. You already made that wager with your pater though…”
Alexander groans.
“I know, I know.
But I can’t quit now.
I’d rather die first.”
Then a gentle hug,
as Hephaestion lays his cheek on Alexander’s head of honey sunlight.
And the tall boy of no description says,
“Hey. Look at the bright side.
We get to go on an adventure together, right?”
Alexander softens, and leans into the embrace. He sighs,
“Yeah…
You’re right.”
And so it shall be.
