Caput XXVIII

***CCCXX***

In the wilds north of Macedonia and Thrace, her forces slowly gathered. Scythian Dracanae form the east, Hyborean giants from the north, all manner of blood-suckers – mormolycaea and empousae, the Minotaur, and Manticore. More than she could name answered her message, sent out by the cacodemon throughout the world. All enemies of the demigods answered the summons. Her nemesis could be killed now, and she would be the one to do it. Especially as the emissaries of the Scythian Anthropophage pledged support in exchange for a share of demigod flesh. The Keres would answer her summons when the time came.

***CCCXXI***

Percy knew the other Senators hated him. They had for the ten months since his wedding, for the wedding, more than any title, told them where in esteem he was held by Augustus. They glared at him or attempted to look down on him whenever possible. Now he glared at them all, from the lectern of the Curia Julia. Their cries and yells rose as he looked out over them, his green eyes blazed to a lesser extent than battle caused but blazed none-the-less.

"Senators, senators," Percy began, raising his hands at the crowd. "I am well aware that it has been some time since one of my kind spoke to you here. An equestrian allowed to speak to you? Tis something unknown for some of you. After all, I am merely Praefectus Praetoria et Batavium, Procurator Augusti. But nothing important. But let us speak to the matter at hand, why you despise me." The uproar began again. Percy waited calmly, then continued. "For some of you, it is because your wives prefer to look at me than you. I blame my first mentor as a Roman for that. Antonius bore no qualms about bedding other men's wives, and, admittedly, my father struggles with the same. Even my step-father, should you believe the stories, suffers from the affliction. But, that only encompasses a select few of you, so let us address the rest. You dislike me because I exemplify the very things you claim to strive for, better than you.

"You claim that I am only here by the grace of Augustus, yet three others brought me into this fold first: Antonius, Bassus, Agrippa. No, the central complaint is that I demonstrate those values which you claim define life more so than you. Pietas, who can claim more commitment to duty than ending a rebellion of your own kind? Constantia, as a boy, just eighteen, I fought for a new country, is this not courage? As a young man, I opposed my first mentor for the sake of Rome, does this not display the resolute nature of my loyalty? Salubritas, am I not healthy? Dignified? A man of honesty? Innocentia, have my denarii not funded temples and roads? Did the center point of the Basilica of Neptune, not come from me? Iustia, did I not deliver Rome's justice to Antonius and to Greece? Fides, you question my loyalty due to the nature of my birth, yet I, not one of you, was tasked to end the rebellion there? No, it was I, in good faith to the trust placed in me that executed Rome's punishment. Honestas, am I honorable? I am sure some of you would say no. But would the people of Rome? My reputation and my humanity are known.

"And what does that equal, most honored Senators? Virtus, virtue according to your own ways. Virtus beyond what you have demonstrated. And for that? You despise me. Because I demonstrate what you desire for yourself. Beyond all this," Agrippa smiled as Percy's voice abandoned its sardonic tone and turned harsh, "has Victoria not blessed me more than any of you? Bellicosus, who among you has fought and bled for Rome more than I? None have and you hate me for it. I recommend that the words cease. For is it fides to slander the decisions of Augustus?" Without waiting for a response, Agrippa watched as Percy spun and walked out of the room. Octavian had done so five minutes before.

He wished their move surprised him. Percy made it just twenty-five yards when Octavian and the two hired men stepped from the shadows with daggers drawn. "Your time in Rome is over, barbarian."

"Now, now, boys. You boys play too rough for me. Knives in the Senate House? I didn't know you had it in you." The sarcasm ended quickly, and his voice dropped low. "Are you actually going to use them or are you the cunts I think you are?"

***CCCXXII***

"They finally tried today," Percy said as he entered his domus. Julia looked up from her lounge and he clarified his statement. "The cunts tried to knife me in the Senate house."

"Was it the cuckhold?"

"And two hired men it seemed."

"You are authorized to wear armor, husband." Nearly a year into their marriage, she still referred to him by title alone: husband, Praefectus, Procurator. For his part, though it took effort, he managed to cease referring to her as girl. If she is old enough to carry a child, she is far beyond "girl." For indeed she did. The midwife believed her three months along. To the outsiders, that meant it had taken him seven months to sire a child, Percy and Julia knew that meant their first time, the first time their marital sense of duty transitioned into lust, resulted in the child. Since then, as the child inside her affected her actions, lust won over her dislike of their situation more often.

"Wearing armor would be an admission of my inability to control them by words alone. Armor is a sign that I fear for my safety. That message will not do."

"You fear for mine enough to assign those Hunters to me."

That much was true. It served as Julia's primer to the maelstrom that dwelt inside the sea god's son. He kept it hidden, but that day he revealed it. The three Hunters of Artemis had sat before him. The eldest proclaimed that they would never protect the "spawn of the bastard that killed our sisters." Similar to their first meeting, when he had stood and seemed to grow larger, he did so before the three girls. His "growth" in this instance, however, dwarfed that of their meeting. The room shook and his eyes displayed an intensity Julia had never witnessed from any human. With the room's vibrations, his voice seemed to come from the stone itself. There was a near metallic note to voice, as if swords drew against each other.

"You will do as I order. Is your goddess not the goddess of childbirth and the care of children? Would you dishonor her in this way? To allow harm to come to my wife and child will be a failure of your goddess. As it will be an affront to me, your master." His eyes flared. "To cause offense to me would be a mistake, I have afforded you many protections in deference to your mistress and your vows, those can be rescinded just as easily."

The Huntresses accepted his tasking, the oldest, a girl from the isle of Cephalonia accepting only due to the fear showing on the faces of the younger two. Though Julia did not have the knowledge base to know this, Percy told her that they appeared older than upon their arrival. Percy admitted to her that he did not understand the connections between the girls and their mistress. Kassandra, the Cephalonian, he described as appearing sixteen upon arrival; now she looked eighteen. The younger two, girls of just ten and eleven on arrival, seemed to have hit their teenage years now. Percy, together with the other demigod in the household, Dione, the Daughter of Nemesis, believed their distance from Artemis to be affecting the immortality the goddess peddled to girls willing to leave the world of men behind. They did not age as normal girls, but it was apparent that they were maturing physically. They all noticed emotional immaturities clearly due to their previous years with a band of girls serving a man-hating goddess.

According to them, the Fates must have pre-determined all that befell Greece and the Hunters, because no man alone could have defeated Athena and Artemis' chosen female champions. Julia admitted, their vitriol alone served as the impetus to eventually climb into her husband's bed. They discounted everything he did because of gender alone. In their eyes, manhood equated to an overwhelming position of "might is right." To them, he did not make sound decisions, he made the decisions which benefited his power. Julia's use as a political pawn between her father and Perseus did not assuage their beliefs. While her husband asked after her health not only that of the baby that grew within her, her father cared for nothing but the child and repeatedly stated he only cared for male offspring. If there was any man in Rome that lived down to your expectations, girls…

***CCCXXIII***

In Rome, they would be celebrating Opiconsivia. A separate festival held within the Saturnalia, it honored Ops, the Goddess of the Harvest. While her primary celebration existed in the eighth month, this secondary celebration served to petition the goddess, named "Plenty," to protect the storage sites of grain throughout the winter months. The culmination of the festivities would be the great chariot race held within the arena between the Palatine and Aventine hills, the great Circus Maximus. There, just as the case had been for several years now, Perseus' judgement of horse flesh would be superb, and his steeds would win yet again.

That, unfortunately, meant that Lucius Cornelius Jason would wait nearly two months to discover if his racing bet against his father turned out in his favor or not. The man of thirty-three years sat upon a balcony, reclined upon a collection of pillows as in the distance a great temple rose. A throw-away comment by Augustus during a visit became Jason's gift to the city, a large temple to Jupiter Capitolinus upon the Silpius. Agrippa's coin financed an expansion of the theater, while coin from the great lover of horseracing, Perseus, arrived with a request to build a great circus for its viewing.

They were building a mirrored city of Rome. Jason would have preferred they do such in Damascus, where much of his military planning occurred, however, with the substantial donation from Percy, a second missive had arrived. That missive had named him Propraetor of Syria. Agrippa remained in the east until such time as he could be afforded to return, therefore all eastern Rome fell to the Son of Jupiter.

Jason scratched his face, a light-colored beard now covering it. While before he never understood Percy's preference for facial hair, after years in the east, it was much easier than dealing with shaving. His eyes seemed to have adopted a permanent squint against the Syrian sun. A floor below him and on the opposite side of the domus, the faint sounds of a screaming baby reached his ears. His firstborn, a son, now demanded the absolute attentions of both mother and the three slaves purchased solely for his care. Now just three months old, Lucius Cornelius Jason, they had named him after the demigod because one must honor the gods after all, would spend as yet unknown years of his youth in the east. Jason's private hope was doing so would make him a horseman of the caliber to challenge his cousin in racing.

Unfortunately, that honor would most likely go to his daughter, not that he suspected he would ever see her compete against Percy, or at all really. His daughter, whose name he did not actually know, was a child of politics. The previous February, nigh about the time that Perseus was married, four patrols in the mountains northeast of Antioch were ambushed and cut down to a man. While ambushes and annihilation of patrols was an ever-present danger, what sparked Jason's interest was the lack of any evidence to his men inflicting any casualties. With that in mind, he rode out with two turmae of Thracian cavalry. Nine days into their patrol, they found themselves surrounded by nearly four hundred female cavalry. A tall warrioress with a circlet of gold about her auburn locks brought her horse up to his. She was Aella, descendant of Thalestris, collectively they were the Amazons. She informed the propraetor that the enemy he sought were Scythian Dracanae, snake women from the east and that she and her band hunted them as well. The weapons of his horsemen would be useless, but she promised safety to the commander if he wished to join her hunt. He did so and a fortnight later, the four hundred and two mounted fighters overwhelmed a battalion sized group of the monsters. It was following his, in the afterglow of martial victory, that Aella issued a second proposal. In exchange for an heir and a promise to never personally lead an attack against her people, she would watch his northern flank and respond to any threats of a non-mortal nature until such time as Jason possessed a credible force to respond to such things himself. Jason agreed to her terms and word had reached him just weeks before that Aella had given birth to an auburn-haired girl with bright, blue eyes.

Jason now leaned against the railing of the balcony, a cup of wine in his hand. Like father, like son, he thought. Two children, two mothers. If stronger feelings of affection bound him to his family appointed bride, he supposed he would feel remorse over the time spent nude in Aella's tent. However, his mind merely justified it as necessary for the safety and future of Rome and that seemed to be justification enough.

"I would agree that such actions are similar to my own, but I would also agree that they serve Rome." Jason spun, shocked to see a figure leaning back on the cushions he recently vacated. Four shockingly blue eyes locked onto each other and Jason dropped to a knee on the floor.

"Lord Jupiter." The being laughed.

"I do not peacock myself as much as him. The east has been home to this form since the time of Alexander, another of my sons."

"Zeus," for many years Percy had attempted to explain the differences in Greek and Roman gods. For the first time, Jason now experienced it.

"I have a task to ask of you."

"Ask?"

"I am not Jupiter, I do not treat my descendants as soldiers to be ordered about." Jason was not completely that he believed the statement but said nothing. "Jupiter struggles to see the individuals within Rome, he sees the empire, yes, but everything within it is merely a segment of something larger."

"We are not an empire." The god laughed.

"If you believe that, your eyes are not open. A threat is growing against those descended from the gods. The threat is something only you and ones like you can stop, yet no force exists to counter this threat. It is the will of Olympus that you build such a force. Do it here in the east, hidden from the eyes of most men."

"But, what?"

"Jupiter, due to the nature of Roman beliefs, would never ask of anything from a mortal. Nor will he become involved. I am under no such restriction. So, pick a legion or whatever, I do not care about which, and build that force. There is your task, go forth." Jason stared open mouthed at the god, who now hefted the pitcher of wine and drank directly from it. He knew not what to think or say. "Stop staring like a dullard, drink the wine and maybe some words will come forth." Jason drank the wine, but the words still failed him. The god shrugged, "Oh well, I wish you good fortune, Son of Jupiter." He vanished.

***CCCXXIV***

The storm blanketed the sun for three days. In the streets of Rome, Senator, citizen, freeman, and slave all cried out to gods to protect them. They would not, for it was their power, wielded by one of their offspring which powered the thunder and lightning. His anguish fueled the wind and rain. At the birth, they discovered Julia bore twins. At the birth, the discovered the boy no longer lived. The sea's rage now channeled through the Stormbringer's son. The city would not see peace until he did. That peace now depended upon the three girls bound before him. The three Hunters of Artemis, now nearly four years removed from their mistress's side, allowed their terror to be seen.

"Did your mistress kill my son?" he hissed. None of the three answered. He motioned to three Germanic cavalrymen standing behind the kneeling girls. The trio hauled down on their ropes. With their hands tied behind them, all three choked, unable to gain their feet. After nearly a minute of struggling, their throats bruised and veins and eyes bulging, they found their feet. The Germani, loyal to their commander, kept the ropes taut.

"We..khak…khak… do not…khak…khak…know." Managed the eldest. The younger two could not form words as tears ran from their eyes. The son-less father placed his eyes upon Kassandra.

"I gave you a task, to protect my wife and children. Is this your measure of success?" He now motioned to just two of his men. A pair of ropes moved and from the corner of her eye, Kassandra saw the younger two Hunters, Kyra and Naomi, brought to the tips of their toes. "Did you instead beseech your mistress to cause pain to your captors?" He motioned again. Now Kassandra's rope tightened and she found herself on her toes.

"We…khak…khak…khak…did no…khak…did no…khak…thing." She could see in his opaline eyes that he did not believe her. She knew what would follow. Kyra and Naomi's ropes were again pulled. "Nooo. khak. khak. Noooo…." Her voice died in the constriction of the rope as hers too tightened. Even as the edges of her vision began to darken as her eyes bulged and she could feel the veins of her face pressing against the skin in an attempt to escape the pressure, another voice filled the room.

"I did not kill your son." Kassandra could not make out the next statement, though she, of course, was not its beneficiary. "Despite the wounds inflicted on me by the deaths and captivity of my Hunters, I would harm a child to punish the father."

"No, you would wait until they are older and kill them arrows, as Niobe's children. Or maybe watch as the mother opens her own stomach and eats one, like with Aura. Do not act as some innocent," he motioned with his hand and the girls' ropes eased their pressure, "Will you later demand I sacrifice my daughter to you as you did Agamemnon? If my protection of these girls falls short, will you do to them as you did to Callisto?" Fury flickered across the goddess's face. "Do you not speak of such things before your Hunters? You judge me for acts, I shall return the favor. Do you swear upon the Styx that my child was not targeted?"

"I swear." He motioned to his men and the ropes fell slack.

"Then I shall protect them, until such time as I deem their service complete."

***CCCXXV***

Unlike what often was the case, Dione did not lay nude beside him. No summons had been issued by Percy. Instead, she had been sent to him by Julia. Following their stillborn son, she wished nothing to do with him intimately. She dedicated herself to the care of their daughter, Julia the Younger. As she committed to the child, she determined she wished her husband's "needs" taken care of. The storms and his confronting of a goddess convinced her a heart lived inside the conqueror's chest. Therefore, with a supply of silphium, she dispatched the Daughter of Nemesis to her husband's bed. There she remained for four months. A noise at the door caused Percy to turn in bed. Julia entered and began to speak before Dione fully awoke.

"You, leave us." Dione did as instructed. Julia now turned to her husband. "I failed to provide you with a son. No heir has yet come to the Son of Poseidon. Husband, if you would have me, I should like to share your bed." Percy studied her. "I cannot yet say I love you, but your reaction to our son's still birth showed me there was a heart inside you I had not yet seen. When I state I wish to share your bed, I fully intend to know you within it."

Percy threw aside the bedding, revealing his naked form. Julia released the clasps upon her stola and the garment fell to the floor. She wore nothing underneath it. Her trim form soon lay next to him and his arms wrapped around her. She kissed him chastely, the last chaste act she intended for her time in his bed. Now Julia leaned forward and whispered in his ear. Despite years of on campaign with all the debauchery that entailed, his eyes flashed wide at the words hot against his ear. Her hands preempted the movements the rest of her body would perform. He opened his mouth to speak, her next action caused his eyes to close.

***CCCXXVI***

Jason looked at the blood upon his hands. He could have ordered the deed done, but he would not order murder. No, that was the commander's prerogative. Tiridates II, usurper of the Parthian throne and kidnapper of children, lay in a pool of his own blood. The man had fled with the boy all the way to Hispania. Upon his return to Syria, Jason's orders were clear. "Use the boy the get our eagles and rid me of this problem." Thus were the words that led to Jason's gladius grinding against Tiridates' throat as he plowed a slave girl. The slave belonged to Jason, and she played her role well, well enough that her reward was freedom. She needed to be free, to carry back to her family in Italy that her sister, Thea Musa, was held in great honor by the King of Parthia. Enough so that she was included in political negotiations.

For she, Thea Musa, slave from the shores of Lago Trasumennus, would cross from Roman hands to Parthian ones within a fortnight. Months of secret negotiations stopped here, with the exchange of Thea Musa and Phraates to the King of Partia, Phraates IV. Rome would present him with the head of his great rival and in exchange some four thousand men, some captive since the times of Crassus and Carrhae would return four eagles from Crassus' legions, two from Saxa's embarrassment against Labienus, and a further two from Statianus' defeat sixteen years earlier. Eight aquilae that Augustus would claim credit for, Jason may be his spokesmen and executioner, but Augustus was Rome. Armenia, once considered primary in Jason's task, became a side deal that allowed it to remain a buffer between Rome and Parthia.

These survivors would carry the eagles and Jason's private messages for his cousin to Rome. For nearly a year he ignored Zeus' task. But then his communications with the Amazons revealed that large numbers of monsters moved east. The women warriors tracked the beasts to the Asian side of the Bosporus, where they disappeared into the Thracian hills. When asked of their numbers, they merely responded "Many." From within the ranks of his own legions, he began shifting personnel. Through quiet means he moved men from his other legions into the Twelfth. Only those of godly blood, child or legacy could see the threat, therefore they would all fight together. They had to be stronger than others, for they would carry twice the weaponry. Jason pitied the previous generations of demigods, the ones forced to die as it was learned that golden weapons forged from metal blessed forged within the Temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus would slay the beasts that plagued them. Many of the fighters possessed their own weapons, but many more were needed. That request would he send to Percy. Though he turned a blind eye, recognized several of his "Romans" carrying weapons made of the same alloy as Percy's weapon, a form of bronze more akin to Greek styled weaponry than Roman. He planned to place any of the former prisoners of war with the proper background in Legio XII Fulminata as well.

He drove such things from his mind and looked to the procession of thousands approaching him. At its head rode a tall man with a carefully groomed beard. Upon his head sat a crown of gold. That man halted his column and rode forward alone, a sign of trust Jason knew. He returned that trust and his mount carried him forward. The king called out to him in Greek, a language they both spoke to a proficiency that did not require a translator.

"You dress for war, yet we have met for peace!"

"Peace is for our children. You and I have been living with war for too long. But" he motioned to the thousands of men longing for his side of the plain. "I wear it for them, to show them that the legion did not forget them."

"You speak as a man of honor, yet even from here I can see the blood on your hands." Jason reached into the bag upon his saddle. By the hair, he removed the head of Tiridates. "Did you kill him yourself?"

"Yes. A king may issue orders for such things, a soldier does not."

"I pray this peace of ours lasts, soldiers as you would spell ruin upon Parthia." Jason laughed. "Do you mock me!"

"No, great king, merely wishing I was half the soldier you seem to think I am; the true soldier of that caliber is currently in Rome. My cousin Perseus."

"It was he that crushed the Greek rebellion?" Jason nodded. "Ambassadors from their leadership were here to request my support." He now reached into his own saddle bags and removed a pair of severed heads. They were fresh, meaning the king had kept the owners alive for an occasion such as this. "They claimed to be children of Apollo and Demeter. You removed my enemy from the table, I have done the same. Let us cast our enemies to the dirt, as a sign of peace as long as we can have it." Together they dropped the trio of heads. Phraates IV rode forward and extended an arm.

"Great king, I thank you for this auspicious exchange and second your hope for peace."

"Propraetor Jason, may this exchange be the first of many to come." With simple hand motions two individuals moved forward from the Roman entourage while several thousand marched west, despite age and all they had been through, they marched with heads upright and in neat order. Eight aquilae led their advance.

***CCCXXVII***

The tracks numbered in the hundreds. Zoë and the Hunters had followed them for days but lost the trail in the swamps. But not before it led them across three sacked villages and seven burned down farms. There were no survivors. That had not been the case in Athens, where the goddess had saved nearly two dozen girls that survived the razing. As such, what had been eighteen with Phoebe's arrival now numbered thirty-nine. By Zoë's estimate, not even that number would be sufficient. The monsters consumed everything, livestock, dogs, cats, human flesh, leaving nothing but the skeletons of human occupation. They formed a camp in an easily defensible ravine and Phoebe joined her.

"I do not like it Zoë. In the past they would remain in one place for as long as they could track meals. They are clearly going somewhere, but we cannot find where." Myrinne, her ire cowled by the bloodletting in Athens, stood silently beside them and nodded. It had taken her several months to recover from her repeated trips into the Labyrinth, but she appeared in good form yet again. She was the only of the four dissidents left alive, Averna's broken body being found along the path taken by the Son of Jupiter's legion in the sack of Athens.

"This is the fourth group we have seen. If they are gathering, a great host has assembled already."

"They would go for Taygetos," Myrinne's voice was sharp, an iron held within it since Athens. "Wipe out all children of the gods."

"Why?" Myrinne shrugged.

"They are monsters, that is what they do."

***CCCXXVIII***

His father's chastisement for his conversation with Artemis did not occur until Ianuarius, now three months past. "She hates already, boy, do not tempt her with your end." As such, he had offered nearly two hundred thousand sestertii to her temples. For it was Aprillis and his wife was three months pregnant. Less than a year had passed since the birth of Julia the Younger and the stillbirth of his son. In retrospect, despite his rage, it seemed Augustus more than he lamented the loss. His father-in-law was becoming increasingly obsessed with dynasty. Having failed to produce a male heir of his own and Marcellus subsequently failing him, he focused all of his attention on his daughter's newest husband.

Percy's challenge of "We have a child; she is pregnant again. I have not said this out of deference that she is your bloody daughter, but I can only fuck so much before I'm fucking bored. Give me a damned war, Octavian. You cannot say that Rome's defense is so strong my abilities would not be an asset."

The man's response had been a simply stated "Give me a grandson." Such a demand seemingly would be easier than what Jason was requesting out of Syria. Missives carried with the survivors of disastrous military campaigns brought them along with recover aquilae. Several of the men recognized Percy and he them. Their repeated refrain that if "Bassus and you would have led us, we would have won" thrust and icy dagger into Percy's heart and only solidified his desire to return to war. No, Jason wanted the release of several thousand weapons made of blest gold within Jupiter's temple. With them he would transfers arranged for every demigod, legacy, and clear-sighted mortal that Percy could find. All because apparently Zeus, of all the Olympus residing bastards, gave Jupiter's son a task. With skullduggery and more than a few lies of "Jupiter's will" Percy arranged it. The soldiers would all go the 12th Legion in Syria. It would be a mis-manned unit. At best guess, Percy doubted four thousand infantry were available and a disproportioned amount of those were officers. He managed to find five hundred cavalry, several of them Germanic or Gallic in origin, but again the force was officer heavy. The navigation of such a command climate was Jason's however, it was his task after all.

Percy's second task was to speak to the Quindecimviri, the fifteen wardens of the Sibylline Books. For surely if such a great threat existed the Books, at the least an augury, would have information on it, or at least so Jason claimed. At first the Quindecimviri refused to speak to him, his position was not lofty enough to enter their refuge. Percy's reaction mirrored that of his finding the gates of Athens barred to him, he broke down the door. Several thinly veiled threats later, he had answer. The last visitor to the books was Octavian Varus. An augury sent him to the books. He read the proscribed passage, a look of glee crossed his face, and nothing more ever passed his lips on the matter. Percy threw a sack of one hundred denarii on the wardens' table and exited, a wolf-like expression on his face.

A/N: It is now April, 20 BC. Percy has been in Rome since the spring/summer of 23 BC.