A/N: So this is definitely the shortest chapter I have published. Frankly it is that way because these were scenes that needed to happen prior to the start of the build up to the ending. I also wanted at least one glimpse of Percy fighting before the ending.
Shore of the Ambrician Gulf
"Epirum cum exercitu intrans?" Percy looked at the Roman officer. Given the number of red cloaked legionnaires Percy believed he was probably a centurion. Percy pulled on the horsehair plume and tipped back the Corinthian style helmet onto the back of his head. He had been studying Latin with Annabeth prior to her trip to Egypt to negotiate better grain rates with the Pharoah there. He studied the centurion. The man's hair was closer cut to most Greeks and he was clean shaven. His brown eyes were deep set over a distinctly Roman nose. Percy guessed that he was in his mid-twenties, a veteran but mostly a veteran of the Gemini legions since the invasion of Macedon so not the battle hardened soldiers Hazel and Frank had initially marched against Philip. Who enters Epirus with an army? Really? From a Roman I'm greeted with that?
"Perseo rege. Occidi eos in uenatione mea ut milite complent." [Perseus the king. Hunting those that killed my soldiers.] The man stiffened. "You recognize my name it appears, centurion."
"Ita regem. Perinde legati ad me viri dudum captam diruit ne quem vestrum gravaremus pugnam villas." [Yes king. The legates told me to avoid fighting you while we hunted the men razing villages.] Demosthenes looked to his king. Percy translated.
"I introduced myself and said why we were here. He recognized my name because the commanders in his army that I know warned him not to fight me while hunting for the men burning villages."
"So we hunt the same prey?"
"Yes, Demosthenes. We do." He turned to the centurion and spoke in Latin. "What is your name?"
"Scipio Favius, hastatus prior of the First Cohort of the 13th Legion."
"I was a praetor of Legio XII Fulminata. Until we catch these bastards you answer to me or you leave and stay out of our way. Do we have an agreement, Centurion Favius?"
"Ita regem." [Yes king.] Percy was surprised he did not have more questions about his praetorship but he also suspected that Hazel and Frank had already warned him of Percy's background.
"We move then." He waved his hand forward and the Roman soldiers fell into step on the edges of the road flanking Percy's cavalry column.
Tyrrhenian Sea
The ship was an older vessel, but relied upon sails instead of oars. Nico was still laying on his back, what little color he had possessed before was slowly coming back to him. Piper stay next to him when she was not next to Phoebe. The two of them were growing closer with each passing day. Thus far Poseidon had blessed their transit. They were not having to deal with storms, they were having to deal with the slowest sailing in history thought Nico. Come on uncle, if not for me than your granddaughters.
"Granddaughters, eh?" Everyone on the small skiff jumped. The voice was not Poseidon's, it was female. Next to them the sea bubbled as a feminine form appeared just below the surface.
"I am not your uncle, young Nico. Aunt may be most accurate."
"Queen Amphitrite," said Zoë and bowed her head.
"Yes, my dear. Though I sense the blood of the sea in no one here." Surprisingly, Phoebe was the one to answer.
"My lady, the son of Poseidon has been a father to Zoë and I more than our actual ones ever were. We would be proud to call him father." Everyone stared at her. "Stop staring, it's the fucking truth." Amphitrite's face darkened slightly at the mention of one of Poseidon's bastards.
"He is an annoyingly pleasant bastard." Amphitrite began to laugh. "I want to hate him, I do, but look at him. He adopts girls without care. Women, while they look like girls, who have no need of a father and are thousands of years older than him, he tries to be a father. He is someone who I would love to hate because he is yet another reminder of my husband's infidelities, but I cannot. Why have you prayed for my husband, nephew?"
"Because we need to get Piper to Athens. Percy can keep her safe."
"Then why does she not… oh." She studied the daughter of Aphrodite. "Go to my son, little one, he will help you." My son? Thought Nico. What the Hades? The boat suddenly rocked as a current drove it south toward Sicily and the Mare Nostrum.
"Why is she helping us?" mouthed Piper.
"Because of King Perseus," said Phoebe. "The damned boy charms everyone. Even his step-mother."
"And thee," muttered Zoë.
Rome
"The augers have spoken!" cried Octavian while standing over the bloody remains of a sacrifice. "The Greeks! Destroyers of our noble ancestors the Trojans! They must be punished for their crimes against our ancestors! They must accept the rule of Rome! Imperator Jason will extract our revenge!" The crowd before him roared in approval. For weeks the square criers had proclaimed the virtues of Rome and the debauched existence of the Graecus threat. They decried the lecherous king of Greece with his six daughters with six mothers, even as their senior senators were organizing orgies. They attacked the whore of a Greek goddess whose daughter could not give a king a son, while their wives aborted babies from their boy toys.
And while they do it, Percy Jackson is consolidating more power in Greece. Reyna knew the stories they were spreading about the son of Poseidon were not true. There was nothing they could have told him otherwise but it was what it was. Iapetus needed the people to hate Greece to justify whatever it was he ordered Jason to do to them. Her hope was once the daughter of Aphrodite was in Greece and safe she could start to drop information of her safety to Jason. Michael would stand by her as she worked to keep Jason from destroying the world. She prayed that Frank and Hazel would too. After Percy's daughters and Nico left I need all the friends I can get.
Shore of the Ambracian Gulf
The small camp of the raiders was next to the shoreline. The Roman centurion had bowed to the king of Greece's orders. They were simple enough to understand. "We kill them all."
"Sire," hissed Demosthenes. Percy turned to the old soldier.
"I don't like it any more than you do. But I need a message sent to the Romans and whatever remnant of Epirus there is. I can't afford weakness right now. We have not heard from Nico since the message saying they were going into the tunnels under Rome. I do not know what has become of him or my daughters or whoever the unfortunate girl kidnapped by the bastards to control Jason. I do not know enough to do anything else but what I must for the good of grease." A shadow of a smile flickered across Demosthenes face but it did not last. "What, old friend?"
"Daughters," Demosthenes said softly before continuing. "I will speak against your decision. I will speak just one request, fight this like a man, not like a god. You said it yourself. You have daughters, you a have a wife. You cannot fight like a god anymore with reckless abandon and hate yourself for what you do later. Your soul cannot take it anymore, it weighs on you more each time."
"You would rather me kill them with a sword?"
"A sword is an act of personal defense. To kill with the powers of the gods, that is an act of your soul that darkens it." Percy's eyes flashed in their fire like quality. He had never understood the Greek association of soul to what his timeline would call mental health. He was pissed Demosthenes would bring it up now. There were too many chances of someone else hearing it. Percy Jackson had never cared about others hearing negatives about him, he was self-deprecating more often than not himself. But King Perseus could not afford such a thing. A part of Percy hated the side of him that was king, he preferred the side of himself that laid upon cushions around a table full of food with Annabeth's head next to his and his daughters spread out where we could see them all. He smiled thinking about them before returning his mind to Demosthenes comments.
"Demosthenes, old friend, you know me better than anyone except my wife. You know what you say is true. But never fucking say it so close to others again." Demosthenes only smiled in response.
"About time you proved yourself a king again." He laughed harshly and turned a smirking face to the monarch.
"Fucker," muttered Percy. Demosthenes only smiled wider.
Half a mile away the century of Roman infantry had formed their blocking position along the waterfront road. Percy turned to his longest serving adviser. The fifty-six year old Athenian had tightened his grip on his spear. He had not agreed with Percy's initial decision to raise the importance of cavalry. But after several decisive cavalry charges, his mind had been changed.
"Are you ready, old friend?"
"As always, sire."
Percy mentally told his horse to begin the gallop forward. The raiders were forming a loose formation against the Romans. Too late they saw the hundred Greek cavalrymen approaching their rear. The volley of Roman pila distracted them as Percy lowered the point of his spear and the momentum of a twelve hundred pound stallion forced the blade through the back of the man shouting directions to his men. Percy released the spear and drew Riptide. He made a wild slash with the sword and was rewarded with a spurt of blood that stained the coat of his white horse. He planted his foot into the chest of another raider even as Demosthenes cratered a man's skull with his shield and dispatched another with a spear thrust. Percy leapt from the horse and landed with the rim of his shield on the temple of a fighter. As the man he had kicked attempted to stand up Percy crushed his throat with his foot.
Behind you, a voice called in Percy's head. His left arm moved on reflex and soon his elbow was behind and the shield covered his back. He felt and heard a weapon clang off of the bronze and leather aspis. Riptide spun in his hand and with the blade facing behind him he slammed the blade backwards and felt it tear through whomever was behind him. Left, the voice said. Percy's whole body spun counterclockwise and Riptide, still in reversed grip deflected a spear strike. The spear continued its deadly path into the owner's compatriot, Percy used the man's shock as an opportunity to open the man's throat with his sword.
He had never understood the voice that guided him in battle, but he never questioned it. He assumed it was an effect of ADD and AD/HD from his world, at least he hoped so. It guided and he followed. Right. A sword deflected off of the shield. It's owner felt the pain of the aspis crushing his ribs before a Roman gladius penetrated his kidneys and pain paralyzed him as he died. Percy deflected an opponent's blade with Riptide into another raider, then he killed them both.
Centurion Favius plunged his sword into a raider's back and suddenly the morning was calm. Carrion already gathered overhead. Percy looked around. Blood dripped from both his sword and shield. Seventy-three men of Epirus lay dead or dying. The wounded would receive no aid, his orders had been given. He counted eleven Greeks on the ground, six would never leave it. Six Romans were dead. Seventy-three dead to just twelve. Not too bad, he thought. But his survey of the battlespace had revealed many more wounded amongst the Romans and Greeks. He saw at least twenty of his men applying bandages and nearly as many Romans. The bastards fought hard.
"Ave Rex. Officium meum impletum est. Ego referre ad tua fari hic liceat imperatores." [Hail King. My mission is complete. By your leave I return to my commanders.] Percy studied the centurion. His statement that his mission was done was true. Returning to his commanders was the correct next step. His referring to Percy as king was not how an officer of Rome should have.
"Go, Centurion." Percy responded in the same language. "My compliments to you and your men." The Roman saluted and began his march north.
"You never get used to your men dying do you, old friend?"
"Never, sire. Never."
Rome
"When do you march for Greece, Imperator?" Jason looked at the old man. Scipio had not aged well, but he had wanted to see Jason while he was in Rome.
"Soon. The paths into Greece have been well cleared. I can march through Macedon into Boeotia or through Epirus and force the coastal road."
"Phalanxes can well guard mountain passes, the Persians learned that the hard way."
"Yes. I think the double approach, pick just two of the three routes will force them to divide forces enough to breach the lines." The older man studied Jason's face.
"What is wrong, Jason? Something is troubling you." The younger Roman seemed hesitant to answer at first.
"Scipio, there are just moments where I feel like I am very much not myself. Like the decisions I make are made without me being fully present. Have you ever…" Suddenly the imperator froze. Scipio could have sworn a golden flash went through Jason's eyes, but Scipio would admit his own eyes were not what they once were. Jason rolled his neck from side to side as if it were a new evolution of himself. He gave a cold mirthless smile. "What was I saying again?"
"Something about not feeling yourself."
"Oh that's nothing. I've a better question. What do you do when you believe some of your own officers are plotting against you?"