His tears fall openly, but he spent most of his grief in the week after his abduction, and though the pain is there still, it doesn't tear him apart. The solid presence of an arm around him helps, as does hiding his face in the fur coat that it may soak up his tears before they make a mess of him.

"They didn't die. They were his generals, tightly knit as brothers... Should anyone have spoken of treason, they would have found a guilty party. I have no proof. I could not come bearing accusations when they circled his deathbed like jackals."

It's bitterness tainting his memories so sinister: most of the men who made their last farewells were as distraught as any of the Persians at court. Even the generals themselves were obviously moved. Some of them were, at least, though he cannot say whether it was grief that made them cry like little boys, or guilt.

"Since I was a boy, men have come to take away all I hold dear. Time and again, they come, giving no pardon. Not Alexander."