Out of his Depth
Greer Watson

He was a very little boy; but he had been a King before he was even born—and it was not something you could forget.  (No one ever let him forget.)  He was the hope of the Persians, and not a few of the Macedonians for his father’s sake; and factions swam around him before he was old enough to understand what they were.  He grew up breathing intrigue as easily as air; and he knew his mother to be hated.  It gave him something in common with the father who had died before his birth.

The Greeks at court made sure he would never be entirely Persian.  He heard about his Father, the Great Alexander who was a god, as he heard tales from his nurses.  He was a bright boy—one should not say “for his age”—and he knew that the sons of gods were heroes.  Which meant, he supposed, that he was a hero (or would be when he grew up).  To be the son of a god and a hero-to-be was rather a lot to live up to; but then, after all, he was a King.

He was not supposed ever to have met his father, who had died before he was born.  Yet he had.  He cherished the memories, though he puzzled over them.

It was not a dream.  He had long since decided, though, that there was no point in telling anyone about it any more.  They simply smiled tolerantly in that way grown-ups had, and explained the truth they thought they saw behind his words—which was not the truth, as the philosophers spoke of Truth.  He was old enough to know the difference, as well as hearing them debate when he was there.  (Besides, he was the one who had been there, after all; and he knew he had not been asleep.)

As for where there might be….  Well, since his father was dead, it must have been Elysium.  That was properly the abode of heroes after death, of course; and Father was a god.  However, Hephaistion was not; and he was also dead; and Alexander had seen and heard enough of their friendship to guess that, if one of them was bound to Elysium, the other would be there with him.

Mortals did not visit Elysium in life (except maybe in sleep, and that was dream); so he did understand why no one believed him.  They forgot that he was the son of a god—which made him a hero—and, from all the stories, heroes could do things that other men might not.

Like escape from nurses, guards, and mothers.  In a rare moment when no one was looking, Alexander turned the corner between here and there, and ran free across the grass.

These invitations and interviews are written purely for entertainment, and as a tribute to the creator of the characters and author of the books, Mary Renault.   No copyright infringement is intended.

The story, “ITOW – Out of his Depth”, was posted to maryrenaultfics on 31 August 2010 by greerwatson.