Caput XXXIII
***CCCLXVII***
A great form threw Percy to the side. A loud neigh filled his ears, a cry of pain. The scream of a wounded horse rose above the battle, as Podarkes, Blackjack, collapsed. The giant's weapon protruded from the equine's great chest. Percy shook his head, his vision clouded from the collision of horse and man. The trident was missing, and he drew the Sword of Hector, Breaker of Horses. The horse at Percy's feet had not been broken, it had been mortally wounded. Percy hated it, but to tend to the horse now would spell both their deaths.
As if to prove his point, a club blow from a cyclops forced him to hide behind his shield. The blow caved the shield in and he was forced to drop it. With the sword, he slashed across both of his foe's knees before thrusting it through his throat. His eyes lifted and he saw another giant lumbering toward him. He and Athena focused on the monster and readied their weapons. A burst of cold air came from it, and both dove aside as the wintry blast froze all in its path.
Percy scrambled to his feet and charged. The Hyperborean swung at him with a massive sword. Percy dodged, slicing at the back of the hand, even as the blow struck Athena's shield and hurled her back. Percy leapt forward, contorting his body until he flew parallel to the ground and delivering a two-handed strike to the giant's left knee. The beast growled in pain and Percy thrust from the ground into his right Achilles. The beast's flailing, as it stumbled, again caught Athena and threw her through the air. Percy slashed again and the giant began to fall backwards. He attempted to move but could not quickly enough as the giant fell over him.
He struggled to extract himself, to give his sword a chance to dispatch the beast when a sharp black spike embedded in the dirt beside him. He rolled again to avoid a second strike and looked up. Above him, with eight spiked feet already coated in blood, Arachne smiled down. Her needle teeth flashed at him.
"You are mine, boy."
***CCCLXVIII***
Twenty yards away, their golden spears flashing, the Roman cavalry continued the advance. At the fore, as birthright would dictate, a Child of Bellona led the great charge. Praefectus Titus Virinus Pullo thrust with their lance. Their long dark hair barely appeared from under their helmet, where dark eyes flashed violently. The curves for which Reyna Messalina Varrus was known was equally hidden below their armor. For the first time since the battlefields of Gaul, she felt alive under the nom de guerre she long utilized. Here Jason entrusted her with the entirety of their cavalry. Here she was truly the Daughter of War. Twenty yards away, she saw the Son of the Sea's eminent death as the monstrosity that was their enemy settled over him. Reyna, in her first emotion driven decision on a battlefield, put heels to her mount and galloped toward Arachne.
***CCCLXIX***
Percy rolled again; his sword arm still trapped under the giant. Again, Arachne's legs came down. One missed, two others sliced across his shoulder and left hip. He gritted his teeth against the pain. The thunder of hooves drew his attention, and he watched a Roman rider charging toward Arachne.
One of Arachne's legs shot out and the front right leg of the horse buckled. The equine screamed as the horse and rider tumbled to the ground. Percy heard a groan, but he saw a dark-haired Roman rise. With sword in one hand and spear in the other, the Roman charged. They dodged Arachne's legs and swords, inflicting minor wounds. He watched one of the monster's blades wound the warrior's left side. The giant shifted and he wrenched the sword free. He looked back to the Roman and his eyes grew as he recognized their movements. The Roman spun in attack and his eyes fell on the face of Reyna.
The giant began to rise, and he was forced to turn.
***CCCLXX***
Reyna felt the blade cut through her armor to the ribs and saw the cruelty in Arachne's eyes as she ground the blade into them. Reyna responded by thrusting her spear into the monster's breast. The wound was not deep, but Arachne roared in rage. With a pirouette, Reyna escaped blows delivered with such a force that she could not have stopped them. In the corner of her eye, she saw Percy struggling to his feet.
A flurry of blows forced her back. More wounds opened as she could not avoid them all. She inflicted what damage she could, but with multiple avenues of attack Arachne outclassed her. She could see Percy now moving toward her. But that momentary distraction was too much.
Arachne brought both swords down and Reyna was forced to use both her weapons to abort their path to her body. Despite this, Arachne's bulk forced both weapons down until Ryena felt her own sword biting into her right shoulder. Now, Arachne's head moved forward. Her needlelike teeth smiled as her eyes flashed evil.
The monster's maw opened and stretched, descending toward Reyna's defenseless left side. Reyna screamed as they began to penetrate her skin.
***CCCLXXI***
Percy heard the scream and willed his damaged legs to move faster. The spider must have heard his approach, because he released her prey and spun to him, blood dripping from her mouth. A rage exploded from within him as he watched Reyna's body crumple to the ground. He roared and swung Hector's sword with all his might. The spiked portion of one of the monster's great legs fell to the ground as the monster screamed. She swung at him with both her swords, and he merely leaned back and laughed as just one of the weapons left a single light scratch across the front of his cuirass. As momentum carried the monster's upper torso past him, he swung Hector's sword. His target was not another spiked foot or Arachne's vital areas, instead he sliced off the fingers of her right hand. Arachne shrieked as her right-hand sword fell to the Greek soil.
The Trojan forged sword hummed through the air as it sped toward another leg. The weapon traveled from right to left, from Percy's outside position to the inner one. The blade stopped completely as Arachne blocked it with her remaining sword. Before the seven-legged monster could react, the man spun. Despite presenting his back to his enemy, Percy's new attack flew at a speed the cursed woman did not believe a mortal capable of. Out of an instinct to protect her torso, she raised a spiked leg. In an attempt to protect that leg, she kicked out with another. It shocked her that the man she fought shifted only enough to prevent the wound being mortal. She watched the spiky leg graze his right leg. He ignored the wound. His blow separated a second spiked foot from the monster. Her bellows of agony reverberated across the field. Two legs now lacked the hardened spike that once capped each of the eight limbs. Of the ten total appendages she entered the battle with, three were damaged. Stabbing pain intensified with each step as she was forced to use the stubs to utilize the other spiked feet.
Percy heard what sounded like a bull's bellow and the cries of other demigods in the distance. He blocked them out and focused on the now six-legged monster. Arachne thrust at him, the blade moving at blinding speeds for his heart. He stepped toward the blow, raising his left arm and torquing his body at the last moment. The blade, as well as the monster's arm traveled past his torso and under the arm. He dropped his arm, trapping hers to his side and with four savage blows, separated the hand at the wrist.
Arachne shrieked and attempted to retreat several steps. The only limbs able to punch out and give her time were the stubs of ruined legs. Pain shot up them as the demigod was forced back. She watched him and realized he had only fallen back one step. For the first time in her existence, she felt fear. For his green eyes contained a wolfishness she had never witnessed in the children of Athena she routinely hunted. She watched him stoop and lift one of her swords, carrying it with ease. She punched out with the stub of a leg and watched as he batted it away. Fear gripped her again, for now she realized, he was purposely ending her existence one limb at a time.
***CCCLXXII***
Athena knew where the monster of her own making stood. Her ears, despite the heavy Corinthian helmet, could detect the monster's screams; it seemed as if the Son of Poseidon intended to dissect her piece by piece. Athena instead moved toward the bevy of screams from her left. As she closed upon them, she found the reason. A dozen men and women, Greek and Roman both, lay upon the ground great spikes protruding from their vital areas. Four flew toward her and she dropped to a knee as the Manticore's ranging attack slammed into the shield. The shield stopped the spikes, yet she dropped it to the ground. The damage done rendered it worthless. A soft "hooo hooo" carried across the battlefield and she turned to see a metal owl flying above them. The owl dropped a cloth covered item and she caught it. Athena ripped the cloth away and the Gorgon's head smiled back at her.
Shield affixed to her arm and spear gipped tightly she turned back to the Manticore. The beast faced two smiling faces, one ringed with serpents, one behind the protection of a bronze helmet. Thank you, father, she thought and charged.
***CCCLXXIII***
Reyna's vision faded in and out. A veil seemed to claim her vision before releasing it. What she witnessed seemed to be one of the wonders of her lifetime. Around her, in service to the gods alone, thousands of Romans risked their lives to protect Greeks. She knew from her months with them that more than a few marched under Percy in his razing of Greece.
Percy, she thought. Her eyes, currently in one of the periods of fogginess, forced her reliance upon her ears. Through them she could hear the screams of the spider woman as the father of her children appeared to be destroying the monster piece by piece. She smiled despite her pain, despite the blood draining from her wounds, despite the image before her eyes when the mortal world grew hazy.
For in those moments, she could see the old women. They looked at her and Decima measured the thread. Morta leaned forward and Reyna attempted to will her to back away. "Let me say goodbye."
"Allow her this," Reyna heard a voice absent from her life since infancy. She felt a hand grip hers and turned to see Bellona, attired for war, seated on the blood-soaked ground. Her mother's eyes turned to her. "I cannot change what occurs, but I will be here, until he is." Reyna nodded; her body demanded she close her eyes. But she did not trust that they would open again.
***CCCLXXIV***
Six of the eight legs ended in stumps now. Arachne attempted to spin and thrust with both her rearmost legs. Percy skid across the ground, both blades slicing into her abdomen from beneath. He came to his feet in front of her as the combination of wounds caused her to drop to the ground. He thrust with both swords, and she could not contain a laugh as both seemingly missed. Her eyes fell to demigod though and the smile faded.
The man's wrists rested atop each other. She watched the series of muscles engage. First the shoulders, rippling in their preparation. Then the biceps and forearms as they prepared for their slashes. Finally, she watched his trapezius and the veins of his neck as they mirrored the movements of his chest. Percy's arms shot to the outside. The blades crossed each other. Sparks ran their length.
The sparks ceased, as the blades cut through the neck of Arachne. The spider shrieked as her body turned to golden powder. The head, detached from the body, seemed to remain intact for a moment, staring into two pits of Greek fire. It too crumbled to dust.
***CCCLXXV***
Despite the fog, Reyna knew who approached. The dark shape became an armored man. Black armor and blood-stained skin filled her vision. She smiled. Her mother's presence vanished. The smile remained. She felt his hand grip hers, then the second cup the back of her head. His lips pressed against her forehead.
"I will get you to a healer."
"No," she replied softly, "The Parcae already wait. They gave me time with you." She could hear her own heartbeat. It was slow and weak. "That is all I wanted."
"You deserve more," Reyna smiled again.
"I leave that to the Parcae. I have strong children, I have honored Bellona, and I had you." Her words were growing softer.
"I love…"
"I know, and I you." There was a smile on her face. She knew Perseus could not see them, but she had watched Morta cut the thread. The woman went still in his arms.
***CCCLXXVI***
"There is no time," Jason's voice was cold as he looked down upon his cousin. "We may have shocked them, but they outnumber us still." He watched his cousin nod and gently rest Reyna's head upon the blood-soaked ground. His hand closed the woman's eyes even as a Roman led a riderless horse to him. Jason, preferring the ranks of the infantry to the rush of charging cavalry, held the reins out to Percy. The man hauled himself onto the equine's back.
A roar ripped through the ranks of the Romans now reforming into their orderly ranks. Those of iron and red reacted viscerally to the black armor and its blue trappings. Jason only chuckled. How many months, years, had he spent with the Twelfth and this was their reaction to Perseus? He could not blame them, for he had bellowed beside them.
"Filii Roma! Meus honor est pugnare tecum!" he heeled the horse down the line toward the Greek formation upon their left flank. Before them the monster army with its cannibal support reformed ranks with the massive bull-man of Crete holding the center. Impossible to scale cliffs stood behind them. Jason watched his cousin gallop across the front of their formation, the cries of the legion following him as if riding a wave. Jason did not know where the charisma came from, his cousin was typically too surly to those of equal status to gather a following, but to call all men of all status sons of Rome he bound them together in purpose. Even before stating that his honor was serving beside them. Percy reined in his mount before the formation of Greeks. Clarisse and Athena stood at their fore, bloodied but unbowed. They leaned against their spears; fatigue easily read from their expressions. Behind the remaining whole warriors, a number of the wounded following Annabeth approached, armed however possible in their wounded state.
"Maintain your position upon the left, that keeps you between them and the settlement. They will try and move along the cliff face." Clarisse watched Athena's jaw clinch. But, shockingly, the only words to pass from her thin lips accepted his order.
"We will hold the left, Perseus." There was a begrudging respect in her voice. His horse galloped away, and Clarisse could only shake her head as the Greeks cheered his departure. The formation shifted now, and Clarisse and Athena stood shoulder to shoulder at the far right of the first rank. Annabeth and her walking wounded would be the throat slitters that followed the spear formation's advance. The horse passed again in front of the Roman line and cheers followed him until he came to a halt before the three hundred and seventy surviving cavalry. Many were wounded, many were clearly uneasy on new mounts, having taken the horses of dead men. Others stood in ranks of the infantry, their mounts dead and no replacements available.
"I began as one you, I remain one of you. Men of the horse. Today we may ride toward our deaths. If you never riding, but all the enemies vanish, breath deep and enjoy the sun. I hear it never sets in Elysium." The spears and shields of his riders were thrust into the air in cheers. Percy wheeled his horse about and looked a trumpeter beside him. "Order the infantry forward." A series of seven notes carried through the brass horn. At their piercing of the morning air, Legio XII Fulminata began to move. On their left, the remnants of a once great people shadowed their movements, angling to ensure they remained between the enemy and their home. Percy turned to right and was forced to hide the shock at a woman looking back at him. The Greeks allowed women to fight, but civilized Rome did not. Reyna's masquerade was the exception, not the rule.
"Do you not recognize me, father? Granddaughter of Bellona and Poseidon and you believe I would sit about Rome to gossip? When mother left, I followed a year later." Percy looked upon the face of Reyna the Younger, his oldest daughter, now seventeen. She looked so much like her mother.
"I…"
"Do not tell me no, father. Mother is dead, I know. And I know you loved her and my siblings and I in your own way. I honor her by riding beside you and if this is the final charge for me, then I will let you know how Elysium feels, as I ride through it at mother's side." He could only nod, pride outweighing fear. The Sword of Hector rose into the air, and he could hear the cavalry prepare, their horses stamping feet. The front ranks of the infantry had engaged, and an avenue remained open. He pulled a sword from his belt and extended it toward her.
"Your mother's," he said softly and then his voice gained volume. "Progredi!" He called and the unit began to move.
***CCCLXXXVII***
Bellona stood atop a knoll. Below her the children of the gods of two Pantheons fought together in a way she doubted would ever be repeated. Greek heavy infantry standing beside the legion and a Greek leading Roman cavalry on the right flank. From elevation, each unit appeared only a square or rectangle moving in uniform step across a field. From here, there was no thrust of sword or spout of blood, there was only the view of war that detached commanders and politicians saw. That we gods see, she thought ruefully. Even as a goddess of war, she admitted she regularly reduced wars to their outcomes and forewent bothering herself with the human operations and losses. Did Rome win or did Rome lose? As her daughter lay broken upon the battlefield below and a dozen other children of hers marched forward toward possible death, the toll levied upon those that fought Rome's wars seemed more real to her.
Her eyes fell upon the charging cavalry. What began as a walk, now became a canter. A hundred yards further, the canter increased to a gallop and the thunder of over a thousand hooves rolled across the battlefield. There, the commander she believed Rome's greatest since Scipio led an attack just minutes after closing the eyes of the woman he loved and the mother of his eldest children. He charged beside his eldest daughter now. His daughter, which meant Reyna's daughter, Bellona could not remember her last grandchild. For rarely had her children survived combat to bear them. But now, the motherless girl and her rage-monster of a father served as the tip of a horse-born spear that would penetrate deep into the monster army. They would fight because that is what they did, not for the glory of Rome or because gods willed it. They would fight because fighting gave them the only hope of vengeance for what was done.
***CCCLXXXVIII***
If the infantry formed an anvil, the cavalry proved less of a hammer than it did an awl. The charge pierced the combined army of monsters and cannibals. The father and daughter leading the charge advanced in swirls of gold as the wind from their horses heaved the remnants of vanquished foes into the air. Reyna the Younger watched in awe as her father wielded two swords, controlling the horse with only his knees, though she had to remind herself that he most likely did not have to command the mount to do anything beyond spoken word. She lodged her spear in the chest of a cyclops and felt an enormous sense of pride as her mother's sword filled her hand. Her wrist spun, rotating the blade forward before a backhand strike cut into the neck of a cannibal. To her left she saw Jason, Son of Jupiter, dueling with the Minotaur. Her father galloped past the beast's back and slashed both swords across it. As the monster spun and bellowed, Jason thrust his gladius deep into its heart and a cascade of golden powder covered him.
The wedge of cavalry punched through and cleared the enemy lines. They wheeled themselves about against the cliffs. Her father's swords thrust forward again and again they charged into the monsters. This advance was at a wider frontage. Instead of the deep piercing blade of a javelin, they were the heavy chop of an axe.
She heard her father's cry of rage as a woman's body was hurled through the air. The responsible party was the last of the Hyperborean giants. Her father's horse broke formation and sprinted for it, even as two powerfully built women with shield and spear closed on it from the front. She watched her father climb onto the horse's back until his feet rested on the saddle and he stood. Once within range of the giant he leapt, as both women thrust their spears into the giant's abdomen. Her father thrust both swords into the giant's back and allowed his body to fall to the ground, the swords ripping the monster's back as he descended. He landed on his feet in a shower of gold. She heard his voice rise above the chaos.
"Cavalry, disengage. Infantry, push." Reyna the Younger spun, waving her mother's sword as a rally and galloped as best she could for the avenue by which they had initiated their charge. She could see why; the battle had pushed to the cliffs. Barely seventy-five yards separated the front ranks from the cliff's edge. Beyond the cliff's edge lay a drop of twenty-five yards. Her father was going to drive them all over it.
Percy waited until the last of the cavalry cleared the battlespace. He gave the order to advance, and the army began to push. Those that attempted to fight were cut down. The others retreated until they could no more. Now more began to fight and more died. Weapons were thrown to the ground, but those that could see the commander's eyes knew the act would change nothing. By the end, nearly a thousand survivors of Arachne's horde were standing shoulder to shoulder with no way to move. Percy allowed the spear wielding Greeks to form the left of the perimeter. He stepped in front of the line in order to give one final command.
"Omnes interficere." The order was given in Latin, Athena translated for the Greeks. "Kill them all." The shields and spears advanced again.
***CCCLXXXIX***
Seventy-five feet below them lay a tangle of broken bodies covered in gold. Across the battlefield, Annabeth's banded of injured moved about identifying friendly wounded and dispatching the enemy's. This was war, as much as any of them hated to admit it. Now, in their role as victor, the Greeks understood the position in which Percy and Jason had found themselves following Athens. The Greeks victories prior to Percy's final campaign had been tainted by the knowledge that there would be another assault. Annabeth approached him as he made his way to Reyna the Elder's body with his daughter.
"I have but one question."
"Why I did to the Greeks what I did? You see today and the hatred with which I fought and do not understand."
"Yes."
"My sister. Your thieves killed her in Corinth." He walked on, Reyna the Younger by his side. Dione was brought to him, on a stretcher. Her torso was already turning black and purple from the internal damage done by a giant's spear butt striking her across the stomach. A Hunter, named Myrinne, asked to see him and merely said she wished to see whose hand she had forced in Greece. Reyna the Younger knelt beside her mother's broken form and tears struck the ground. As the body bearers came forward, she stood and retreated to her father's side, embracing him for strength.
"Burn her," Percy ordered. "I will carry her ashes to her mother's temple in Rome. It is her proper resting place." His daughter looked at him appreciatively. She opened her mouth to speak when a runner approached.
"They have called a final council in Athena's temple." Percy nodded and turned to his daughter.
"Go with her and ensure all honors are given, I will find you afterward."
***CCCXC***
Percy walked slowly toward the settlement, lost in the thoughts of loss. He did not notice the figure crouched overtop a fallen horse. He would have passed it had the figure not spoken. "How many masters over the years and he sacrifices himself for you?" Four green eyes met as father and son looked upon each other.
"I have never asked that of anyone. Yet it seems to follow me." The father studied his son. Blood matted his hair and strained his skin. A golden dust covered him. It was his eyes, however, that kept his attention. There was pain and loss within them. The last time Poseidon felt for a son the way he did now, the goddess trudging up the hill with a shield on her back and a spear dragging in the dirt had just killed his granddaughter. He could do nothing then. He looked upon the horse bravely hanging onto life. Poseidon held no sway over the lives of men, but for the loyal mount below him. He could ease his son's pain, he hoped.
Percy did not understand the words coming from his father's lips, they were of a language more ancient than Greek. Both the god's hands lay upon Podarkes or Blackjack as he had often called him. He stopped walking, as he had drawn a sword in order to ease the horse's pain. A flash of light blinded him, and he could not see the action that accompanied the snap he heard. Following the snap, he heard the rush of wings and then the stamping of hooves. Blinking away his blindness, he could first see the great white shape of the animal which had carried him to Greece. "Pegasus," he muttered as the horse nuzzled him. He scratched him under his long chin. A whinny caused him to look over Pegasus' neck.
Stamping massive hooves stood a massive dark horse. Wings were tucked against his flanks. A low neigh escaped as the massive head shook. Percy walked up to the great beast and held up a hand. The winged horse that, as a standard mount, had carried him across continents laid his head into Percy's palm.
"You magnificent bastard," Percy muttered. The horse neighed.
I am something new. I am Podarkes no more.
"Then what are you?"
Tell me, I am only here because your father honors you.
"You may no longer be Podarkes, but you will always be Blackjack. The mount that carried me through how many battles and nations, whatever your name, you will always be him."
Then I am Blackjack, henceforth. The stallion's eyes turned to Pegasus, who threw his head into the air. I must go.
"Go and live a safer life without me."
I am sure a day will come when some other demigod will ask me to risk my life again, I pray he is as honorable as you. Percy laughed as the two pegasi lifted into the sky and Poseidon could sense the joy that had been absent just minutes before.
"Thank you," his son whispered. Poseidon said nothing but placed a hand on his son's shoulder until with a pop, he vanished.
***CCCXCI***
"I believe your usefulness has passed," Jason and Percy turned their eyes coldly toward the Hunters. For all their hatred, the Greeks seemed to have accepted that the pair's actions years before were the product of war, not of hate. It did not appear the Hunters agreed with this sentiment.
"The things the two of us happen to be good at would never have been of use to you," Percy responded. A slight smirk and quick wink drove Zoë Nightshade's hands to her knives along with both the girls flanking her.
"Bastard," the red-headed one named Phoebe hissed.
"Guilty, through no choices of our own." He responded. "I am merely ready to return to my wife and children."
"How many widows populate Greece now? How many orphans beg because of you? What is another husbandless woman or fatherless children?"
"How many Roman widows and orphans have I created? You hate me for things I did to a country and people you consider beneath you anyway, or at least your goddess does. If any of you gave two shits about Greece, you would have spent your every effort whittling down that host instead of chasing whatever animal it was that distracted her from the mothers and children dying in childbirth." The Hunters seemed taken aback, not used to being called out by anyone, let alone a man. Zoë's solution was to ignore Percy's comments.
"The threat is over, why should we let you leave alive?"
"I don't recommend killing him," Jason spoke for the first time.
"Because he's your friend? Our savior?" The final word was laced with venom.
"Nothing so grand as that. Did he not tell you? His wife is the daughter of Caesar, imagine what Rome's response would be? Your petty rebellion brought just four legions and him down on you. What do you think I, his son, or the one that considers him a father bring down on you? He destroyed Athens, I doubt a single city would satiate Caesar for such an affront. Murder Caesar's son-in-law?" he said in a mocking tone, "Gods have mercy on you. Because the survivors of the Twelfth will eradicate you on the spot and they will not let you die well. After that, Publius and Drusus will lead enough soldiers into Greece in punishment that they will be fighting each other for slaves. Stop thinking that this one man is the root of all your troubles. Have you considered your own fucking actions might start something? That a man can be more than just a man to people? He is not Caesar, but to the legions? To the legions he is everything."
Perseus ignored the tension and looked to Athena. Bandages covered her from her encounter with the Manticore, but she had dispatched the monster. "What must be decided? I have soldiers to bury."
***CCCXCII***
Percy and Dione guided their horses down from the mountaintop settlement, with Percy's blessing Reyna the Younger would remain with the Twelfth. She ushered in a new era for the specially tasked legion and soon several other women would join its ranks, first secretly in their own unit before openly doing so as they proved themselves to the ones that would look down on them for gender alone. Dione leaned over her horse's mount, her internal wounds from the giant's fist still not healed. Percy growingly feared she would not. They halted their horses where Kassandra stood near the road awaiting them. "Master, I…" Percy cut her off. Kassandra stood by his horse's flank, the bevy of Hunters and their Mistress beyond her.
"I freed you. Your life is your own." She looked at him in thanks and her eyes flashed toward settlement and the man living within it. She took two steps before Artemis' words cut through them.
"You may no longer belong to him, but your oath me has never died. Yet despite this, I can sense that you have turned yourself into a whore." Kassandra spun toward the Goddess of the Hunt. Behind her, Percy slid from his horse. He wore no armor, yet all present noticed his hand resting upon the hilt of the Sword of Vercingetorix. Just a step from him, the Sword of Hector hung from a saddle. For as much as the Hunters felt confidence while near their patroness, they had witnessed the ease at which monster and man fell to one before them, and felt fear touch them. Even Zoë Nightshade and Phoebe, Daughter of Apollo, long companions of the goddess, recognized the ability to end lives that lived within this man. No hatred or superiority fueled his killing, he simply excelled at it.
"Mistress, I…"
"Betrayed your oath," the goddess's voice grew cold. "You gave yourself to some man and became lesser for it. Your oath is broken and your punishment thus."
A loud crack filled the air. Where once stood a beautiful woman of twenty years with dark hair and bright eyes, now snarled a wolf of gray and black. Predatory eyes fell upon the Son of Poseidon. They glowed as the great beast revealed its teeth. The glowing eyes pled for death. For in the same moment that Perseus of Corinth realized that Artemis intended her own Hunt to end the beast, the wolf knew her sisters would be forced to kill her. Therefore, she turned to the individual she considered the master of all death, for she had seen his decisions be the only thing which divided the living and the dead. The glowing eyes saddened as the snarl increased and the she-wolf lunged.
As she expected, in less than a second, the sword of a Gallic chieftain flashed and plunged into the animal's heart. Only Perseus could see the relief in the wolf's eyes and the canine smile. Only he watched the face turn to one framed by dark hair and with bright eyes that dimmed as life left their owner. He sunk to a knee, easing the dying girl to the ground; the sounds of a wolf's death sounded from the settlement, revealing brave Brasidas' fate. Percy looked upon the one now again appearing as woman in his arms. She was dead. He eased her body to the ground and stood.
Contrary to his traditional challenge, he pointed a blade dripping the blood of their sister at the Huntresses. "You claimed her as sister how many times to me? You can fucking bury her." Sword in hand he mounted the horse and spun it around his palm, now pointing the pommel toward the goddess. "And those girls called me a fucking monster."
He spun his horse, expecting to feel arrows punch into his back. Beside him Dione groaned, she would not make it back to Rome. She only asked to reach Arkadia, the place of her birth. She wished to see a sunrise from Mount Parthenion, Percy only promised her arrival. He purposely did not promise she would be alive, for he doubted she would survive that long.