Title: War Story
Author: Qaddafi the Ripper
Summary: How Cleitus saved Alexander's life at the battle of Granicus

"I saved the king's life." After a battle was the time for celebration, wine, women, showing off new scars, and bragging about heroic exploits. None of the other men here had a story even half as good.

His audience leaned closer. They were a group of ten men, the six olders ones accompanied by women. It might have been nice to celebrate their victory in a village - and in a bed - but there was no where near enough, so they'd kept to camp. "How?" asked one breathless boy. His eyes shone from the light of the fire. Cleitus thought he was one of the king's squires.

Cleitus grinned and pulled current his woman closer so her breasts were touching his chest. He took a quick gulp from the cup of wine he held in his other hand. "I was just two days ago, in the middle of the battle." The battle was already becoming legendary; the first Greek victory against Asians in over one hundred years! And no thanks to the Spartans. "You know how the king likes to ride ahead." His listeners nodded, the younger ones worshipfully, the elders one with a certain cynicism Cleitus could well relate to. "I was riding near him, as a bodyguard." And as the king's bodyguard, he'd quickly learned to curse Alexander's need to constantly be in the front lines.

Though to be honest, the Persians hadn't helped much either. All those trousered bastards had wanted to claim they'd killed Alexander. Their leaving the front line to aim for Alexander had helped the Macedonians win the battle, but had made Cleitus's job much harder.

"We was in the worse part of it, then. Persians all around us, Companions dead or injured left and right, too few of us against them barbarians." He drew the story out slowly, enjoying being the center of attention like this. No one else dared to speak. "He'd just killed a Persian, but lost his helmet in the process. All covered in blood, his face was. Never saw that other fellow coming at him.

"Some important Persian he was, I'm told," he continued. "Named Spitman, or something like that. Who can remember Persian names? Anyways, I saw him coming and I saw too that Alexander didn't. So I just did what any other man've done," he added modestly.

Or maybe it hadn't been something another man could have done. He'd never had men look at him like these men were looking at him right now. Leaning forward, hanging on his every word, though they knew full well how the story would end. Listening to him as if he were the next Homer. He felt himself swell under their regard.

"What happened next?" the same boy asked breathlessly. Cleitus took a moment to smile at the lad. If he hadn't had such a fine woman on his arm at the moment, he'd have thought about bedding the boy. A man could really feel powerful, getting looks like that.

"I got my horse going as fast as he would, of course. There weren't no one else near enough to do anything 'bout it 'cept me. I got there just as that Spitman or whatever was raising his sword, all ready to chop Alexander's head off. But I was faster than he was. I raised my sword up--" and he raised his arm, the one around the woman, not the one holding the wine, just as he had on the battle field "--and sliced his arm off right at the elbow." And he swept his arm down in a similar stroke, made somewhat awkward since he didn't want to hit his woman.

A collective sigh of relief came from around the circle. "You're so brave," his woman whispered, leaning even closer into his wide.

"And what happened next?" the boy demanded.

"What, you want to hear about the whole battle? I already told you the part where I saved the king's life!" But under those adoring eye, he didn't want to stop. "Well, after I chopped off his arm, that Persian bloke sure didn't want to stick around. He took himself out of there quick as any man could want. Alexander finally saw what had nearly happened, and he smiled at me. You know, that bright smile of his that you have to blink after seeing?"

The boy nodded. "I hope he'll look at me like that someday," he said dreamily.

Cleitus laughed. "Maybe he will. You never know." He paused to collect his thoughts. "Well, the battle kept going on after that, as battles have a tendency to do. You really want the whole story?" He wasn't sure how long he could keep this pace up. He took a long swallow of wine to wet his throat.

"I've already heard most of what happened," the boy assured him, but he looked a bit disappointed. "Is that all the king did? Smile at you, I mean?"

"Course not!" Cleitus snorted. "Had to wait till after the battle for the rest of it though. He says to me, 'Cleitus, you done good. If not for you, I'd've died today. I'll give you any reward you want.' Well, he used prettier words than that, but you get the idea. I thought about it, then I said, 'I want gold and riches and beautiful women. And, in the future, I want you to keep me as your bodyguard. You need somebody watching you while you're being kingly or heroic or whatever.'"

Cleitus remembered getting another broad smile from Alexander at those words. He said he'd give him what riches he could spare, though Cleitus would have to catch his own women. And he said that he was honored to have a brave man like Cleitus fight by his side. So in the next battle Cleitus would be with Alexander again, and the next after that, and so on for however long they were in Asia.

It was an honor too for Cleitus to hold that position and a testament to his loyalty and experience. He'd only advanced so far under Philip, but he could hope Alexander would advance him further. It wouldn't be the only change the young king made from the old one. Cleitus thought he might like Alexander's changes. Just so long as Alexander kept in near during battle, of course.

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