This is my Chapter 1. I used a prologue because unlike The Lost Hero where Mr. Riordan added three new main characters to an already established cast. I felt it was necessary to establish an early background for the entirely new cast that must support an already established main character.
Chapter 1
Perseus
A smell more foul than anything he could have imagined filled the air, waking him from his dreamless sleep. Sounds of violence echoed all around him, urging him to sit-up. Instincts guiding him…he opened his eyes and began to survey exactly what was happening. As his eyes adjusted to the light he slowly began making out the shapes of people doing battle. Gradually he began to make sense of all that he was seeing.
He was on a beach, judging by the sun, it was either early morning or late afternoon. The battle was between two small groups.
The one nearest to him numbered around two dozen. It was made up of kids that looked to be about twelve or thirteen years old. They were dressed in full battle armor, but not a type he was familiar with. They each carried a large curved rectangular shield in their left hand. In their right, they each held a short four or five foot long spear. There was a sheathed straight bladed short sword attached to the belts on their left sides.
Leading them were two older kids that looked to each be around sixteen. Their armor was of similar design to the younger kids, segmented over lapping strips of metal attached to leather padding, but theirs was far more intricate and made of a superior quality metal.
The other group consisted of about a dozen men. They were large somewhere between six and seven feet tall. They wore no armor…in fact the only thing they did have on, were some leather loincloths. They had six arms…
"They had six arms!"
That couldn't be right. He must have been hit on the head. That had to be it…he had to have been hit on the head and knocked unconscious. It would certainly explain why he would be waking up in the middle of a battle. And in a few minutes his mind would get over the disorientation of the blow.
The kids were lined up in a standard phalanx. One row of ten kids was standing in tight formation presenting a shield wall, while a second row stood behind spears in hand waiting for the inevitable collision of the two forces. The two older kids paced up and down the back of the formation giving orders and reassuring their obviously nervous troops.
"Odd…" he thought.
From in front of the shield wall he could swear he was hearing large booming sounds like stones being thrown against the wall of a metal warehouse.
He glanced back in the direction of the loincloth clad enemy. They still had six arms, much to his dismay, and it looked as though they had begun scooping up handfuls of sand and hurling them toward the kids.
Again something was off…
"How could balls of sand hitting shields sound like large rocks striking metal?"
Then he realized…as the men scooped up the sand it somehow hardened into solid rocks. Even crazier, he was beginning to believe these guys really did have six arms. Every time they hurled one of those rocks he heard three distinct impacts, one for each set of arms. And seeing the strength behind those throws it was amazing that the shield wall was still holding.
It couldn't last…he had to do something before those stones broke through the shields, or else all those kids were about to be drilled full holes.
"What can I do? After all I don't have a weapon or a shield." he said to himself.
If he tried to break away and flank them he surely would be killed. Without knowing why he reached into his pocket and pulled out a ball point pen. He uncapped it, and the pen transformed into a three foot long blade of glowing bronze.
"Great I have a weapon, but it won't do me much good if I can't get close enough to use it."
On reflex he tapped a button on his watch, and a shield of bronze spiraled out locking into place on his forearm. Gazing at the relief etched onto the surface of the shield, he suddenly felt a surge of confidence and excitement. It was as if he had faced situations far…far worse than a few over-sized guys, with major B.O., and a couple of extra sets of arms.
He let out a defiant cry and charged…
Storm clouds began to gather overhead, the sea became choppy. He could feel the spray from the waves as they broke against the shore. He hit them from their blind-left side, mid throw. He brought his sword down from overhead, slicing through the first, splitting it from its left shoulder to its right hip. But instead of collapsing it dissolved into a mound of dirt. Monsters, they were monsters.
Rather than being shocked he was filled with a kind of certainty, a resolve, his mind entered another gear. He was on auto-pilot, no time for thought, only act and react. He weaved through the ranks of his enemy, dodging, slashing, stabbing, and bashing them with his sword and shield. Every time his sword arm struck, an enemy dissolved like the first and was washed away by the waves.
And suddenly…it was over. It had felt like only seconds, but his exhaustion told him it must have taken several minutes. He capped his sword and retracted his shield; he turned to the kids, uncertain what he should do next.
"Don't move," said the older girl "move and you're dead."
"Men surround the stranger, Now!" bellowed the older boy.
Uncertain what to do he started to speak…
"Silence," the girl ordered "we'll be the ones to ask the questions. Who are you Demigod? How did those monsters get inside the borders of our camp? What are you doing here? Where did you come from? Who trained you to fight like that?"
It occurred to him…
"Maybe I should have helped those monsters".
"You will answer the Prefect's questions or face the consequences. Speak!" demanded the boy.
"Definitely…I definitely should have helped those six-armed guys." he said.
"So, you admit you're an enemy. Very well…" began the girl.
"I admit that I just helped to save your lives. And what do you do to thank me? You surround me, point your spears at me, and threaten me. To me all of you are as bad as those monsters. Or do you disagree?"
Furious the girl began, "Who do you think…"
Cutting her off again…he shouted, "Like I just said! I am the guy that just saved you. What right do you have to question me? Who do I think I am…who do you think you are?"
It probably was pretty stupid to get mad and shout at the girl, but he didn't care. He just couldn't stand bullies. Especially bullies who used others to help back up their threats.
"I think I am Reyna Barnes, Daughter of Minerva, Prefect of the First Legion. I think you are an unknown and armed Demigod presently within the borders of our camp. I further think, not only are you armed; you are highly trained and potentially more dangerous than those Gegenees you just defeated. Do you understand me? Now answer my questions. Starting with…who are you?"
He had no idea what she was talking about: Prefect, Minerva, First Legion? Bottom line though, she was clearly in charge, and obviously whatever she was in charge of was something important. The troops she commanded, while both young and green, were obviously well trained and equipped. As much as he may hate to admit it, and did he ever hate to admit it, she had a point.
"Fine, I don't like it, but…"
"My name is Perseus," he said.
Contempt evident in her voice, "Good…now tell me the rest of it? I told you to answer all of my questions Perseus."
Annoyed Perseus began, "Fine, I'm…"
"Who was he?" During the fight he hadn't had time to think about it. After all when you are in a fight for your life something like, "who you are" is trivial. But now that he had stopped to think about it…he had no idea. Who he was, where he was from, what he was doing there…he didn't know any of it. All he knew was his name… "Perseus".
Afraid and confused he stammered, "I…I don't know? I don't know who I am. I don't…I can't remember anything."
"Oh please, do you honestly expect us to believe a lie like that?" said the boy.
"Bobby…" chastised Reyna, "Perseus, what do you mean you can't remember?"
Perseus didn't reply. He kept running questions through his mind. Desperately searching for some answer…any answer. How old was he? What was his last name…his birthday? Who were his parents? What were the names of his friends? The more questions Perseus asked the more certain he became…his mind was completely blank.
Perseus was going to reply, but his instincts kicked in.
"Keep quiet," he told himself "it's better if they think you are an uncooperative but strong enemy. Showing them you are vulnerable would be a mistake."
Perseus looked at the people who surrounded…he measured them. There were twenty, what he would call, green troops. They were well trained to be sure, but the look in their eyes told him that today was the first real action any of them had seen.
"Physically strong, but mentally weak," he concluded.
If it came to a fight Perseus knew he could take these troops.
The two in charge were a different matter.
Reyna was tall with shoulder length wavy dark brown hair, and a graceful athletic build. The way she carried herself and held her weapon told Perseus she was an expert in both armed and unarmed combat. But what set his nerves on edge were her eyes. Her brown-green flecked eyes had become hard. They were the eyes of a person who had seen life's horrors and survived. Reyna, both understood and was used to making the tough choices. When she gave an order she expected it to be followed, "or else".
The boy "Bobby," Reyna had called him, was tall with broad shoulders and a heavy muscular build. His size would limit his agility, but his strength would more than compensate, making him a difficult opponent in these close quarters. He had short cropped black hair. His face radiated a seriousness, Percy thought, people only got from wearing an almost perpetual scowl. A scowl that would be made all the more terrible by his brown red tinted eyes. Bobby was used to carrying out the tough orders.
"Yeah…the more off-balance I can keep these two, the better off I'll be," Perseus decided.
"I. Don't. Know." He said. Letting all the anger and frustration he was feeling be known by the tone of his voice.
Perseus saw as the look in Reyna's eyes transformed from hard to dangerous. For a moment he feared he had made a mistake. But almost as quickly as that look appeared it vanished.
"Very well…you will accompany us back to camp. There you will be held until Consul Lupa decides what is to be done with you. But make no mistake Perseus," the anger that touched Reyna's eyes returned, "you will answer my questions…all of them."
Perseus began to reply. Then…
