Percy -IV
The atmosphere was tense.
The soldiers milled around the boat, wearing their armours and equipping themselves with their weapons.
Percy looked down at his own set of armour, as he fiddled with its straps. To be brutally honest, the armour was not good enough. Or at least, the armours of the commoners. He looked around himself, as he saw the 'lowly skilled' people with cheap leather armours, while the higher officers and other seasoned warriors were strapped in fine, thick well-made leather, few even adorning ornaments.
Phobos stood at the helm of the ship, looking in the distance.
Hundreds of ships surrounded their own, but the air was silent.
On the horizon, was a small speck of land, visible, still far, but visible.
The people on the boat were silent, the imminent battle in their minds. All of them had a different mentality. Some were scared, rightfully so, as the battle ahead of them was going to be a blood bath. Some were indifferent, performing their duty for the Achaean empire, and some were excited, wanting to fight for glory. Afterall, to be sung about for generations was a warrior's dream, to gain immortality through poetry.
A voice jarred Percy out of his thoughts, as beside him he saw a boy, barely fifteen, fiddling with his straps, his fingers tremoring, making him stumble over the knots.
Percy sat on his knees and gently placed his hand over the boy's shivering hands. The boy's eyes darted to Percy as the boy watched him, startled.
"It is ok." Percy started, trying to calm the boy. "Let me help you."
The boy looked at him silently as his body continued shivering while Percy tightened his straps.
"What is your name?"
"Nikolas." The boy replied shortly.
Percy stopped his hands as he stared into the Nikolas' eyes. They looked innocent, unaware of the world's cruelty. Such eyes did not belong on a battlefield.
"Are you scared?" Percy asked, and tilted his head as Nikolas pushed his hand away from the straps and started to shake his head vigorously.
"No. No! Of course not. I- I have come here to fight for my homeland. For the Greeks. Why would I be scared. I am ready to- to die for our cause."
Percy smiled sadly as he saw Nikolas fumble over his words. Nikolas was brave. But he was scared, as anyone should be.
"And why are you ready to die?" Percy calmy asked, as he sat down on the wooden floor.
Nikolas stared at the stranger in front him, bewildered at the question he was asked.
"Why, for Lebadea of course! For retrieving Queen Helen!" Nikolas shouted at Percy, as if the answer was obvious.
Percy chuckled at the innocence of the child in front of him.
"I am sorry. That was obvious. Let me rephrase my question. Do you want to die?" Percy asked, as he turned his head towards Nikolas. He saw as the confusion made its way onto Nikolas' face.
"No, obviously not." Nikolas replied, still perplexed over the question asked to him.
"Then why are you not scared?"
"As I said earlier, I am determi-"
"Then are you not sane?" Percy cut him, looking seriously at the kid in front of him. "Because any sane person would be scared."
Nikolas looked at him in confusion. Percy laughed, as he couldn't resist as he patted Nikolas' head fondly. Nikolas swatted his arm away as he stared at Percy murderously.
Nikolas was a kid. Just like the ones at camp half blood. Innocent, unskilled, yet brave. Stupidly brave. This never turned into a good outcome.
"Listen to me Nikolas." Percy started, as he put his hands on Nikolas' shoulder. Nikolas looked at Percy, as the mood turned serious.
"Be scared. Being scared is wise. Do not be foolishly brave. It won't do anyone any good."
"But why should I be scared. This is a war!"
Percy shook his head. Nikolas was thinking too straight.
"That is exactly why you should be scared. This is a war, Nikolas. Thousands will die. Thousands of skilled soldiers, seasoned for battle. The battlefield is going to be laid with corpses. Do not think with your heart. Be scared. Do not try to do something that you cannot do. You will only get in the way of others and get yourself killed. Do you understand?"
Nikolas nodded shakily. "Good" Percy said as he patted his back and turned to move.
"Are you- Are you scared?"
Percy paused, as he looked back at Nikolas with a grin on his face.
"Well, I never said I was sane, did I?"
The ships were all lined on the shore, as the soldiers stood on its edge.
Only two people had jumped off of their boat yet. Afterall, it was prophesized that the first person to set foot on Troy would die.
One Odysseus and the other was Protesilaus. Odysseus was the first to land, but his trickery was not noticed by anyone. In the fear of the prophecy, no man was ready to set foot on the shores of Troy.
For the siege to start, Odysseus had cunningly thrown his shield on the ground, and landed on the shield, bypassing the prophecy, and tricking the second one, which was Protesilaus, to be beholden by the curse.
Soon the frontline soldiers, assigned to capture the beach, started to jump off the boat as they surrounded the two kings.
Percy looked in the distance, as he saw the two horses advance, as the kings too set out to meet in the middle.
The four people met, as each warrior sized up the enemies.
"Odysseus, Protesilaus." Hector said as he acknowledged the two kings. "I think you have landed on the wrong shore."
"I am afraid, Hector, that this is the right one." Odysseus replied as he looked at the prince grimly.
"There is no need for unnecessary bloodshed, Hector. This was will destroy thousands of families. Just give us Helen, and this can be still be avoided."
Hector laughed as he heard the offer. Hector knew it was a foolish and selfish act for Paris to flee with Menelaus' wife. But it was too late. His father was blinded by love for his son. He would not concede.
"I am afraid that is not possible, Odysseus. Why don't you just turn around your ships and go back? I promise not to attack during your retreat."
Odysseus scoffed at the slight insult in Hector's voice.
"Believe me when I say this, prince. Either the Greek empire will end here, on the shores of Troy, or Troy will perish due to the stupidity of its prince. Well, may the Gods remember that I tried to stop this bloodshed. Farewell, Hector."
Hector watched as the two started to move back, his consciousness gnawing on his heart. Andromache. His wife. She wanted him to run. Away from this selfish war. Afterall, why would he fight for someone else's love?
But no. It was not a stranger, but his brother, and he loved him dearly. And more so his kingdom. He could not abandon its people.
"Odysseus," Hector called out, "you know, right? I do not want us to go to war."
Odysseus looked at Hector, as a sad smile made his way to Odysseus' face.
"I know, Hector. I hope for your families' safety." Odysseus replied, as he made his way back to the now assembled soldiers, about a hundred strong.
"Watch out!" A soldier suddenly shouted, as the entire hill was now suddenly lined with Trojans.
Arrows began to shower, as Odysseus and Protesilaus ran towards the now interlocked shields of their soldiers. About ten soldiers ran to intercept them, as they provided their kings protection.
"Protesilaus, we must go back to the ships. The first raid arm-"
"He is dead, my king." The soldier beside him said, interrupting him.
"What?" Odysseus stopped as he moved the shields covering him slightly and looked back.
There lay the body of Protesilaus, king of Phylace. An arrow lodged into the back of his head, thus fulfilling the prophecy.
"Take me to the ships." Odysseus commanded as he made his way back to Agamemnon.
Percy watched the scenes unfold in front of him. It seemed that the negotiations were futile, he thought dryly. He was sure that in a few moments, the initial raid teams will be sent out to slowly capture parts of the beach.
Percy surveyed the beach, impressed by the Trojan preparation. They had done well in the limited time granted to them. The beach was laid with trenches, spikes and many other traps. He was also sure that the trojans had hid themselves in contingents strategically behind the sand hills.
Capturing the beach was imminent, but not easy. The Greeks would surely incur more losses, but that was to be expected when raiding an enemy in their home.
"Soldiers, gather around!" Phobos shouted, prompting Percy to move closer.
"Listen carefully. Lebadea is going to be sent in the battle field as part of the fourth wave. We will be aiding the previous forces on the west side of the battlefield. All the foot soldiers take the west side head on, as the cavalry will attack from further west, trying to push in the enemy. Do you understand?"
A round of affirmation went along all the soldiers currently present on the boat.
"Good. Once the second wave establishes a hold on the closer shore, we will disembark, shields raised to prevent getting shot. We will regroup with the rest of the forces from Lebadea. From then on, we will have about half an hour to establish our formation. And then the horn signals for the fourth wave, we attack."
It was a sound strategy, Percy thought, but undeniably ruthless. These strategies were planned from the moment war was declared, changed and refined up to this moment. During their voyage, they had been briefed on their positions within the phalanx. Percy himself was one of the frontline soldiers of the phalanx he was part of. But what stood out was that his entire unit consisted of low-ranking, inexperienced soldiers. While Percy didn't know everyone, he'd overheard conversations among the men, confirming the situation.
Percy believed that this was the case for trojans too. sending out less-experienced phalanxes to test the waters, probing for weaknesses, assessing the strength of key players like Achilles, Ajax, and others. Let the less skilled set off traps and wear down the enemy. Some of the stronger warriors, like ajax, might not care, rampaging through the field, but this would gradually clear path for the forces to advance.
Well, there was not much he could, after all he was just a random soldier without any political power. Percy idly twirled around the sword given to him. It was not balanced properly for him, but it should do for now. He was not going to reveal riptide, yet, as the possession of a sword made out of celestial bronze was surely something that might put him under the radar of other demigods in the army. He did not want to seem like a threat.
"What are you doing, coward. Move!" Phobos called out, pulling him out from his thoughts.
"Scared? Well, you have nowhere to run, boy." Phobos said snidely, as Percy made his way to exit the boat. It seemed that the second wave had successfully cleared enough of the shore for the Achaean forces to start grouping. Phobos stood at the exit, hands folded, looking disgustingly at Percy.
Phobos leaned to Percy's ear when he was close enough, "Well, are you ready to die, you fucking coward? Because that is what will happen to you on the frontline. You will get skewered like the little rat you are." Phobos whispered, smiling maniacally.
Percy ignored him as he jumped from the boat, following the line to the Lebadean forces.
Hippodamas stood in the centre, donned in a bronze armour his sword at his side. He looked powerful, as a leader should be.
"Soldier of Lebadea," Hippodamas started, addressing all those gathered in front him.
"The time has come." Hippodamas looked in the eyes of every soldier, emotions taking hold of his voice.
"You know what, fuck this!" He started, surprising everyone. "I am not going to give a well-practiced, sugar-coated speech like any other king, spurring you into the battle. I can see the emotion in your eyes. I can feel the thrum in your veins, I can hear the beating of your heart. I know many of us will die today. You know that too. But we will move forward, fucking killing those rats, tearing apart our enemies, in the name of Lebadea, to restore our glory!"
Just as Hippodamas finished, a horn sounded in the distance. Hippodamas wordlessly jumped on his horse and relocated to his position in the middle of the Lebadean battalion.
Percy's phalanx moved to the front as they positioned themselves quickly.
Each phalanx consisted of one hundred and twenty-eight soldiers and each was divided into eight rows. Two phalanxes stood side by side, one phalanx surrounded their king in the middle and two phalanxes were positioned behind them. All the entirety of the Lebadean forces stood ready, waiting for the King's command. Percy stood at the frontline, rotating his shoulders and warming up his wrists.
"Advance!"
The battalion moved, shields up, as they advanced into enemy territory. As Percy had decided, he did not want to reveal the level of his skill as of yet. He would try to move normally, as any other mortal in this army.
His heart gnawed at him for not fighting this battle with his complete powers. This was not his battle, but technically, these people were his comrades, and he was letting them die when he could potentially save them using all his powers.
No. Percy would not be swayed by his conscience now. He had to play this smart. There were too many unknown factors. He still didn't know the ladder of power in the Greek camp. He did not wish let the only chance had to meet her go to waste. For Annabeth.
The phalanxes broke into a run as the battle ahead of them drew closer. The last of the third wave was still fighting as they reached.
Percy raised his shield as a stray arrow bounced off of it. Percy blood rushed in his veins, as adrenaline started to pump in his system. This was Percy's element, in a way, as much as water was. Battle was all he had known since he was twelve.
The army lines clashed as the Achaeans supported the survivors in the battlefield. Percy manoeuvred his way around the corpses littering the fields as he ran at a trojan. The trojan raised his sword, slashing it in Percy's direction.
A sidestep, and a counter resulted in a sword deep in the trojan's belly.
Percy pulled his swords out quickly as he parried another strike that was swung towards him. The power of the mortal was no match for a demigod, and Percy's skill far to experienced for the dispensable soldiers that trojans had sent to test the Greeks.
Sword lodged into flesh, as screams resonated the heavy atmosphere. The heat shone on Percy's neck as he looked around him. The Lebadean force was slowly pushing the enemy lines deeper. The king's phalanx, along with the rest of the cavalry was flanking the enemy, pushing them into hordes of Greek soldiers, ready to pick of the cornered Trojans.
"Retreat! Retreat!" A trojan shouted, as all Trojans in their vicinity disengaged and ran.
Percy quickly stabbed a fleeing Trojan, and looked at the Trojan forces, as they ran up the small hill they were battling on and fled to its other side, out of their view.
Percy narrowed his eyes as his eyes went over the fleeing Trojans. More than three to four hundred Trojans were running away from their force. Yes, they were cornered, both in number and strategically, but retreating with still such a large number did not make sense. Battles had been fought in worse odds, and he was sure, if need be, the Trojans still had many defensive phalanxes already on their way to support the west side.
Shouts of victory rang through the air, as Percy turned his attention to his comrades, alarmed, as they ran up the hill to hunt the Trojans.
"Stop!" Percy shouted, "It's a trap!"
But to no avail, as his voice was drowned out in the shouts, as the soldiers paid him no attention.
As soon as about a hundred of them reached the hill, the hill suddenly collapsed.
Dust flooded the air, as the people on the hill fell, revealing braces, that supported the partially dugout hill. The braces must have been pulled using a rope as soon as the Achaean stepped on it.
"Attack!"
Percy looked towards the source of the voice, as the dust revealed a hidden phalanx of Trojans.
A trap.
Percy looked on, as the Trojans pushed ahead with renewed vigour. The people who had advanced thoughtlessly were getting picked on like flies.
Percy stood there, watching helplessly. If he still decided to fight with all of his skill, even without the help of the powers he received from his father, he should be able to wreck the Trojan lines, saving his comrades.
Percy's hands twitched, as he faced a dilemma. Decimating a phalanx would put him on the spotlight.
A slower rise to power was much more believable than an overpowered demigod randomly showing up on the battlefield, to both, the Greeks, and the Gods watching the battle from Olympus.
Fight. Or not. Fight. Or not.
The faces of people getting stabbed, left, right and front came into his view. The cries of mercy filled the air as the Trojans dominated the field, their trap putting the Greek phalanx in complete disarray.
Percy tightened his grip on the sword.
Someone had to save them.
His foot planted on the ground, as he began to run.
The scent of blood, dirt and ozone wafted into his nose.
Wait. Ozone.
Percy looked up as bolt of lightning fell out of the sky, right in the middle of the Trojan force. Several of them were charred on contact, and many went flying die to the impact.
"These are MY PEOPLE!" Hippodamas' horse charged into the battlefield. His body was filled with tiny sparks, as the air around him boiled.
His phalanx slammed into the Trojans, as a fierce battle started.
Percy rushed forward, thankful that he wouldn't have to display the full potential of his skills. He rushed into the mix of people, as he slammed into a Trojan, causing him fall. A swift strike ended the life of his enemy, as he moved on to the next. The battle continued for fifteen more minutes, as blood and grime covered the sands.
"Retreat! Retreat!" A trojan shouted, as they ran towards the western gate of Troy.
The western side of the beach was conquered, finally, after four waves of attack.
The Greeks ran after the fleeing Trojans, picking off the struggling enemy.
"Stop, do not follow." Hippodamas announced, as all the attention turned to him.
"Victory is ours! To Lebadea!"
The soldiers rushed to their leader, hailing to him like he was a God. Cries of victory rang through the air as the soldiers went around the field, securing their position.
Percy sighed as he made his way back to camp, only to stumble when his foot caught on something. Glancing down, his breath hitched. He had tripped over a body.
Nikolas lay there, on the ground. His eyes fixed blankly onto the sky, unmoving. A broken spear protruded from his abdomen, as blood slowly seeped out onto the ground. His hand was smashed to pieces, probably trampled upon by some horses. He looked so young, too innocent.
Percy turned his gaze away, as his fists clenched. He was a child. Just like those at camp half blood. He did not have to die like this. If only, he had used his powers. Crushed the enemies before they could hurt his comrades.
If only.
The horn blared across the field, signalling the end of the day's battle. Percy stood there as his heart stung. His thoughts conflicting, as self-hatred seeped into his mind. No. He had to be firm.
For Annabeth.
Percy walked back, with Nikolas in his hands. A white cloth covered his body, as Percy gently carried it back to the pyre. The battle had ended for the day, as the Greeks and Trojans retrieved their fallen warriors from the battle under a temporary truce.
Percy tried not to think much, keeping his mind as blank as possible, as he placed Nikolas on the pyre, waiting for someone carrying a torch to come and light it, allowing Nikolas to rest.
Percy placed a coin on Nikolas, the fee for Charon, as he sat besides, staring at the dead child in front him. Percy's eyes were cold, as he stared aimlessly, hating the cruelty of the world.
"Who is he to you?"
Percy was jarred out of his thoughts as he looked behind him, as Hippodamas approached him from behind, hands folded behind his back.
"Personally, to me, no one. To his mother, a child too young to take part in a war, and die such a gruesome death. Especially while fighting on the front lines." Percy replied bitterly, not caring for his disrespectful tone, as he turned his head back to Nikolas, swatting away the flies gathering on his body.
Hippodamas sighed, ignoring the slight hate in the tone of the boy in front of him, as he sat down beside Percy wordlessly.
"You know, I didn't want him to fight this battle. I even advised Phobos to let all the children stay back and help set up the campsite for our base."
"And you trusted Phobos to do this, the man who wants every citizen of your kingdom to lay down his life for a war, that too fought for a selfish cause, retrieving someone else's wife."
"Regarding Phobos, that might be something that I might have overlooked," Hippodamas agreed, "but the child, no man, decided to fight, and lay down his life for restoring the glory of his country. Willingly, and bravely. And I will forever be grateful for that."
"But," Hippodamas continued, "War is cruel. Often selfish. But it can make or break a nation. A chance that Lebadea cannot miss. If impactful, Lebadea will improve its status among the Achaean empires, advancing trade and power, enriching the generations to come. To suggest that a fallen warrior should not have fought is insulting his sacrifice."
Percy's head immediately turned towards Hippodamas, as his implication angered Percy.
"You know I don't mean to do that! He is a child wh-"
"I know," Hippodamas cut off Percy as he put a hand on Percy's shoulder, "and by the looks of it, so are you. I doubt you are older than twenty."
"That doesn't make any difference."
"It does, and it shows. Not in your skills, but in your heart. You are kind, kinder than many of us on the battlefield."
Percy scoffed at that. In a way, by not fighting to his potential, he had led many of his comrades to death. Nikolas too. He was very far away from being called kind.
"But," The king stood up, as he now stared at Percy seriously, "also smart."
Percy cocked his head at the sudden change in the tone of the conversation.
"What do you mean?"
"I heard you, you know. When you shouted for the phalanx to not advance. Trying to signal that it was a trap. Something that a rookie should not have noticed."
Percy stared at Hippodamas, as he tried to take hold of the conversation.
"Well, it was nothing more than a hunch bunched with some obvious signs." Percy said as he shrugged, as he met the king's gaze unwavering. Well, Percy agreed that it was difficult to deduce with adrenaline rushing through your veins in the midst of a battle, but really, it was obvious when thought properly. A convenient hill, the enemy retreating when they don't need to. The signs were always there.
The king stared at Percy, as he decided his next course of actions.
"There is something about you," he started as he looked at Percy, "something off, your appearance, innocence, skill. The obvious signs you speak of, or not so obvious in the midst of a life-threatening battle."
Percy shrugged, as he leisurely picked up a nearby pebble in his hand, examining it. There was nothing about a call in battle that should put him in trouble, yet. So, he was not worried about the king's suspicion.
"I will keep my eye on you." Hippodamas concluded, as he turned around and walked away.
Percy grinned, as he saw the retreating figure of Hippodamas.
That was perfect. With the king's attention on him, he could slowly gain his favour, rising through the ranks. It would take some time, but it would be worth it. It was no use for him to be placed into the parts of the army used to test each other out. He was way too powerful to be placed in battle as a simple pawn.
The torch bearer arrived in a few moments, as Nikolas' body was lit with fire, as Percy prayed for the boy.
Lord Hades, please let Nikolas' soul reach Elysium.
Phobos looked at Percy's praying figure with hatred. He had heard the conversation between the king and him.
He was not sure what the king thought of the coward, but it was obvious, the king was intrigued by the boy. Phobos will have to look out for the fucking coward.
Hippodamas entered the tent, and looked around.
All the generals of the army stood around a big table, From the legendary Achilles, to Ajax to other kings, all stood there, in front of him. Hippodamas joined the circle, as they waited for their leader to arrive.
After several moments, fashionable late, Agamemnon arrived with a cup of wine in his hands.
"Gentleman," he started, as he raised his cup in the air, "to our first victory in securing the shore!"
Agamemnon looked around the crowd, with a drunk smile plastered on his face.
"I would not necessarily call it a victory, commander." Achilles replied, some of his disdain sleeping into his voice.
Agamemnon's face soured, and just as he was about to start an argument, Odysseus interrupted, saving them from a war of words.
"Achilles is right, Agamemnon. In securing the beach, we suffered twice the loss the trojans did. Even though we have a larger army, the Trojans are just as skilled, if not more. Winning just by numbers would not be good for us."
"Numbers this, numbers that, blah, blah, blah. A victory is a victory nonetheless. So what if we lost some more soldiers. Dying for the Greeks was probably the biggest achievement in their life." Agamemnon replied, waving his hands in Odysseus' face.
" Some of us, my king, care for our soldiers." Hippodamas replied.
All eyes turned towards him, as Agamemnon face snapped towards him.
"You!" Agamemnon shouted, as he made his was towards Hippodamas. Agamemnon came close, and stood up in his face. Hippodamas remained calm. Retaliating to Agamemnon's oppression might not end well for him. He was stronger in battle, not that Agamemnon was weak either, after all, the Greeks respected power. It was rumoured, that in battles, Agamemnon had defeated a few demigods himself, but Agamemnon held way more political sway than him.
"Do not forget who you commander is, Hippodamas. I thought we had decided, no demigod shall reveal his powers today. Not tomorrow, not until I signal you to do so." Agamemnon shouted in anger.
"I cannot let my people get decimated by the enemies and just watch, when I have the power to aid them." Hippodamas replied calmly.
"Ahh! You dumb fucking kings and their sense of morality!" Agamemnon exclaimed as he clutched his head in irritation.
"Now you have given away to the enemy that we have one more son of Zeus amongst our army. While, the Trojans strategically did not reveal any of their powers! We still do not know what cards they might play, which demigods are in their army."
"Maybe," Agamemnon continued, staring at Hippodamas, "maybe I should kill you for disobeying me!"
Hippodamas stared at Agamemnon, as his hand slowly made its way towards his sword.
"Now, now, there's no need for that, Agamemnon." Odysseus interjected, as he guided Agamemnon away from the Hippodamas.
"Yes, we might have given away one of our demigods, but it was not entirely futile. We conquered the complete shore, with the west side incurring the least losses. I am sure that will add up to our aid in the future." Odysseus said, trying to calm Agamemnon down.
Achilles scoffed at the scene.
"No need to suck his dick, Odysseus. I agree, Hippodamas might have revealed his powers, but his ranks were pushed. It was wise to use his powers. I respect a king who values his soldiers."
"You are just saying that because he is your brother." Ajax the lesser interjected.
"Why you fucking bast-" Agamemnon started, about to insult Achilles, when Odysseus, the wise man he was, interjected again.
"Kings!" He shouted, stopping from another argument from starting. "Let us not argue now. Everyone is tired from the battle we fought today. Let us rest and collect our thoughts in peace."
Agamemnon grumbled, as he downed his wine, stumbling out from the war tent, to probably drink some more wine.
Hippodamas sighed, and as he made his way out of the tent, he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"You did good." Achilles said, as he smiled at Hippodamas, and swiftly left.
Hippodamas was twenty-eight while Achilles was still twenty-five. But still, his actions being acknowledged by a legendary figure such as Achilles made his self-doubt subside.
Hippodamas stared at the night sky, as Artemis' chariot moved slowly above them. Perhaps, perhaps he will be able to make the sacrifices of his people count.
He will fight.
For his fallen brothers.
For Lebadea.