Chapter Five

Percy rode, pushing Blackjack to the horse's limits. The former general and lieutenant never rested, Percy unable to due to his anxiety. One minute resting could be one hour of torture for his family.

So they rode. From Gaul to Spain. His arm wound had long since stopped bleeding. He hadn't spent time looking at it but he could guess that the wound wasn't too deep.

After another day's ride and one rest because of the exhaustion of both horses and riders, Percy and Luke arrived at the Jackson farm. Although a giant plume of smoke and fire would have been better suited than farm.

Percy's eyes widened in horror and he kicked Blackjack in the side. The horse reared and sped forward. The green hedges that had once lined the drive to the house were now grey crisps. As the horse's hooves hit the ground dust rose up behind him. They had gotten close enough that Percy could see black shapes hanging on...no.

He jumped off the horses and ran toward the crosses planted next to the house. Three crosses. Three burnt corpses. His mother, his stepfather, his sister. He let loose a guttural scream as he felt tears stream down his face. He was an orphan, a lonely boy. His fists pounded the ground and his vision blurred. His black hair covered his eyes as he bowed his head to the ground. He couldn't look up. Looking up would mean seeing them. He can't remember them like this. He has to remember them as they were.

His mother, her brown hair draping over her shoulders, her motherly brown eyes staring at him with love.

His stepfather who had raised him as his own son since he was young with his blue eyes smiling at him.

Finally his sister, Bianca, her dark silky hair cascading down her back. Her smiling black eyes and olive toned skin.

All dead.

But where was Nico? His fifteen-year old brother? Percy jumped up. He began running frantically around the house. "Nico! Nico!"

Meanwhile Luke looked on, saddened at the scene and his friend who had been so grief stricken that he was calling for his most likely dead brother.

He sat upon his horse in his armor that he had never taken off due to the urgency of the journey. He began to regret that choice when he saw a teenager leap at him with a sword.

Luke quickly jumped off and pulled out his sword. "Stop!"

The boy was in a burned tunic and he was absolutely filthy. His dark hair draped over part of his face and Luke could clearly see the rage and grief in his black eyes. "Stupid Romans! You killed them!"

Luke didn't want to hurt the kid so he stepped inside the boy's guard and grabbed the sword. The boy looked weak from exhaustion so it wasn't hard to pull it out his grasp which caused the boy to fall over. He tossed the sword away. "Who are you?"

The boy spat at him. "Listen, I'm not going to hurt you," Luke said.

"You killed everyone else!"

"Actually, I just got here. What's your name?"

The boy glared. "Nico," he spat.

Luke's eyes widened. So this was Percy's little brother. He held out a hand to Nico who recoiled. Luke sighed. "Percy!" he called.

Nico's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Then a smile spread across his face when he saw the raven-haired boy come running down the drive toward him. "Nico!" he called.

Percy tackled Nico in a hug. "You're alive. I thought you were crucified with the others or burned!"

Nico cried into Percy's shoulder. "I got away. I feel so guilty. I-I could have saved them. If I had been stronger-"

Luke tapped Percy on the shoulder. "Guys, do you mind if we get going? You know slave traders. We could be found."

Percy nodded and whistled for Blackjack. The horse came thundering down the drive and stopped next to him. The boys mounted their horses, Percy pulling Nico up behind him.

They rode about 10 miles from the farm, far from where any Imperial scouts could find them.

After some well needed rest, Luke brought up the question they were all asking. "What are we gonna do now?"

A part of Percy wanted to board a ship and sail to who knows where and live a life of peace from the empire. But Rome is always growing and his loyalty was to the Empire. Marcus Poseidon's last wishes were for Rome to be a republic and Percy was sure Triton wasn't exactly the democratic type. His thoughts were set, his goal clear. "We're going to Rome."