The Heart of Alexander

Chapter Seven- Hostage

Cover thanks to R.A. Franco :)
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The Macedonian Camp

The Macedonian camp was only a little over a half a day's ride from Sogdian Rock Fortress. Even at night we did not stop once, but kept trudging on till the morning sun came up to greet us. Once we arrived, I was thrown into a rather large tent, separated from Titus. I didn't even know where he was being taken to. Inside were several more girls. Some huddled together in corners of the tent while other began boasting about their adventurous nights with strong, handsome soldiers. Concubines and whores they all are, I thought. I was sold off now to be a whore in the Macedonian army. This wasn't at all what Kiro described it to be. He made it seem more glorious.

Kiro. How my heart ached for him. I wanted to believe there was a possibility he was alive, but deep down, I know what I saw. He didn't deserve such a fate, to die at the hands of the man he served and defended with his life. I pondered on whether father gave him a proper pyre for trying to save his daughter. I wanted, no, I needed to believe my father wasn't as cruel as he showed to be by giving me away. I thought back to that soldier who desperately need my help and I granted him mercy. I would hope my father to do the same.

Oh, Kiro, I thought, how did it ever end up this way? I missed his caress, the sweet nothings he would whisper to me to lighten the burden on my heart. It was never suppose to end in such a way. He was suppose to save me, just as he promised.

When I entered the tent, many of the girls stared at me. Others glared. I wasn't quite sure how to react to the stares of whores. The soldier who brought me to the tent yanked one girl towards him and spoke softly enough for only me and the girl to hear.

"Let Campaspe deal with her. His Majesty wishes her to be displayed tonight before everyone," The soldier spoke.

The girl nodded flirtatiously to the soldier, his fingers grazing his shoulder. I rolled my eyes and scoffed in disgust. I always hated the whores in Bactria. They always ruined family, broke homes. I remembered when my father was caught with a common whore in his bed. Mother wouldn't leave her chamber for weeks on end until she somehow managed to forgive his dastardly deeds. These whores were no different. Surely these men had wives from where they came from.

Then, the woman named Campaspe swept into the tent, herself displayed like a Greek Goddess. Her dark hair cascaded down her back, jewels plaited in her locks. She was adorned in beautiful gems and dressed in vibrant colors unlike the rest of the concubines. The men had put her up on a pedestal, rewarding her for her beauty and most likely her services to them as well. But not only did the men praise, but so did the whores gathered in the tent. From my eyes, to the other she was like their mother, strong and wise. They all looked to her for guidance in their ways. Then, her eyes narrowed towards me.

"Who is this girl? How did you find her?" Campaspe demanded.

"She is the heir to the Bactrian throne. Have her ready for tonight. His majesty would like to parade her through the camp to his entertainment. The men always love a good victory," the man said.

"Thank you, Boris," Campaspe said graciously before turning to me, "Boris, bring her to my tent,"

Campaspe whirled around and disappeared under the tent flaps. Before I could comprehend anything more, my forearm was gripped hard by the soldier's large hand. I was yanked from the concubine tent and into the blinding morning sunlight. I squinted to see where I was going, where I was being pulled to. I saw tents by the thousands. Little tents for a mere soldier and tents the size of a palace chamber for generals and their plentiful whores. I saw drunken men stumbling from tents and others wrestling with their fellow soldiers.