War Mantle (Dancing with Death part 3)

Prisoner of War

Ali stood on Half-blood Hill staring across the forest. "What are you planning?"

"Ali?" A voice sounded behind her.

She whirled, jerking her knife from its sheath. She found only a flustered camper with her dagger pressed against his throat. She pulled back her weapon. "What is it?"

"The p-prisoner." The camper stuttered. "He's awake."

Ali sheathed her knife and strode purposefully down the hill towards the stables.
* * *
Ali walked down the aisle between the Pegasi stalls, stopping by Lydia and Lyra at the one housing the prisoner.

The boy was surveying his prison curiously, as if searching for a weakness. He had hay stuck in his shaggy blonde hair.

Ali crossed her arms as she watched him. "Even if you do find a way out, you'll never get passed your guards."

He turned, his gaze finally settling on her. "You."

Ali smirked, giving a mocking little wave. "Welcome to Camp Half-blood, Romanus."

He glared at her. "Why does a graecus know Latin?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Why is a Roman in a Greek camp?"

He held her cold gaze. "I have my orders."

"Orders from a man you trust and respect?" she challenged.

The boy narrowed his glare. "He's in charge of the legion."

"Really?" Ali stepped closer to the wooden gate. "Last I checked Reyna and Jason were the Praetors."

"They fled to the Ancient Lands." He held his voice steady, but their was the slightest hint of uncertainty.

Ali's grin widened. "And I'm sure you had one of your precious senate meetings to transfer power to your sorry excuse for an augur."

The boy glared, but doubt flashed across his gaze.

"Now," Ali leaned on the gate. "I think it's about time you introduce yourself."

He gave a rye smile. "Soldier of the fifth cohort of the twelfth legion. Second in command to my centurion. Loyal to Rome."

Ali chuckled. "Well, I was thinking more along the lines of your name and your godly parent, but thank you for explaining how low you rank in the legion."

Lyra touched Ali's shoulder. "May I have a word?"

They walked a little ways down the aisle. "Might I suggest a different technique?"

"What?" Ali asked, a little exasperated. "Be nice? Not my strong suit."

"I know," Lyra sympathized. "But, in your words, we're trying to avoid a war, not start one."

Ali sighed. "Fine. I'll be a little nicer."

"With you, that's all I can ask." Lyra sighed and they walked back to the stall holding the prisoner.

Ali stared at him, not sure what to say next.

"What's wrong?" The boy joked. "Hellhound got your tongue?"

Ali drew a long breath. "You can't honestly tell me you agree with what Octavian is doing. Not all of it."

He blanched, caught off-guard by the change in subject. "No." He finally admitted. "I guess I can't."

Ali stared down the aisle at the campers scrambling around to prepare for the coming battle. "He wants to destroy all of this, all of us." She met his gaze. "You can't want that, can you?"

The boy hung his head. "You probably won't believe me, but I don't."

She met his gaze and saw the pure apologetic concern on his eyes. "I do." She looked at Lyra. "Keep an eye on him."

She'd almost made it out of stable before a voice called after her. "Tyler!" She turned to find the boy standing at the gate, staring at her. "My name is Tyler."

She nodded and walked out of the stables.
* * *
"You've gotta see this!" Owen came running across the grass down Half-blood Hill.

Ali intercepted him at the bottom of the hill. "What happened?"

He was panting as he tried to explain. "Romans... augur... wants to talk to you..."

Ali nodded in understanding. "Get some rest. I'll handle this."

Owen heaved long breaths and walked towards the mess hall.

Ali strode up the hill and saw Octavian on the other side, flanked by four legionnaires with a ridiculous white satin headdress that's made him look like a nun. Heaving a heavy breath, she picked her way down the hill, praying the Hermes kids hadn't placed any mines nearby.

When she reached the bottom of the hill, she found that Octavian looked even more ridiculous than she'd originally thought. He had on a loose fitting white toga to match his headdress; he had several imperial gold chains strung around his neck like a rapper; and his angry expression made him look like a constipated rat.

Ali crossed her arms. "What do you want?"

"You attacked my men." He said simply, as if that cleared up everything.

"They attacked first." Ali held.

"They were scouts." The augur's face twisted even more with anger.

Ali kept her cool, her face unreadable. "They were trespassing on our territory. Some might consider that an act of war." She mocked. "Be happy we let them live."

Octavian took a moment to compose himself, though he still looked like a lemon-sucking rodent. "And the prisoner?"

"He wanted to be on our turf, now he is." She concluded. "We were completely justified in our actions. It was self-defense."

Octavian looked like he wanted to say more, but couldn't come up with any more accusations.

"Well," Ali dropped her arms to her sides and held the augur's gaze. "If you're satisfied, Octopus, I have work to do. I'm sure I'll see you soon." She turned on her heel and walked back up the hill to camp.