Looking For Help

Chapter 28

The Legion roared in approval on the rising of the Praetor. The last of the heroes of the Prophecy. The one fated to die, once again.

Walking through the Roman lines, Tony noticed that the kids didn't seem as welcoming of Percy as they had voiced a few minutes before.

Dirty glares to the boy, spitting on the floor, cursing in his direction. Percy paid no attention to them, although Tony noticed the resignation in his eyes.

"Didn't they say they welcomed you?" Tony asked him in a whisper. Wanda seemed to have noticed too and she wasn't leaving Percy's side.

"The Romans are extremely versed in politics." Percy explained. "Since the Gods approved of my idea, going against my idea implies questioning the choices of the Gods. That, the fact that I'm a veteran hero, and the little show I put up in front of both mortals and demigods, gives me a little room."

"Didn't they make you Praetor or something?" Tony asked. "That has to mean something."

Percy shrugged. "Not really. I stepped down after a former Praetor came back. I already had the position. Since I left, it was left vacant. They didn't give it to me, I just reclaimed it. In terms of power and politics, nothing has changed salve the fact that now they can openly blame me."

"That's..." Tony didn't know what to say.

"Politics." Percy finished. "They will grant me my final wish, but they won't like me being a leader figure around. The best I can do is keep distances and let them talk shit about me."

"Figures." Tony grumbled.

Percy smiled sadly at him. "This is far better than what the Greeks threw at me." He said. "I'll take it any day." He sighed.

They approached a tent that was disposed at the bottom of the mountain. Reyna was waiting for them inside. The whole team, including the three soldiers, was accompanied by a Centurion towards the tent.

On the entrance, two more Centurions were guarding. Percy was on the head of the group. As the guards saw him, they straightened and saluted him. "Ave, Romana!"

"Ave." Percy greeted. "Praetor Reyna is waiting for us inside."

"Step inside, Praetor." One said. "Your soldiers can wait outside."

Percy rose an eyebrow. He felt the mood shift behind him. Everyone was glaring at him. "They are not my soldiers, Centurion." He said. "They are allies and friends that have agreed to aid us in this war. We need to get inside."

The Centurion shifted uncomfortably. "Only you can step inside, Praetor." This time, Percy's title left his voice much more aggressively.

"Malcom." A voice called from inside the tent. "Stand down. They are all welcome to step inside."

Both Centurions on the entrance reluctantly stepped aside. "Yes, Praetor."

Percy sighed and stepped inside, followed by everyone.

The tent was bigger on the inside, like the ones from Artemis' hunt. It was decorated with weapons and tools. Maps, strategies and lists were hanging by the wall. In the middle, Reyna was seated behind a desk.

There was enough space for everyone, but not enough chairs. Percy decided to approach his old friend before starting with the formal meeting. "Good to see you, Reyna."

She smiled at him. "Likewise." She said. "Although you are not extremely popular along the Roman lines."

"Nothing unexpected." Percy said. His tone turned stern. "We come as a delegation of the Army of the United States." He explained. "But I know that means trash to anything gods-related, so, in essence, it's me, Calypso, the Avengers, and the soldiers that think they are the head of the operation."