The Warrior | Heroes of Olympus

3

Back inside the camp, horns blew again. The cohorts would be starting roll call. It was my favorite part of the day. 

The first time I had seen the legion assembled, I'd been just a child and I'd been so intimidated, I almost slunk back to the barracks to hide. Even after being at camp for nearly seven years, I still found it an impressive sight.The first four cohorts, each forty kids strong, stood in rows in front of their barracks on either side of the Via Praetoria. The Fifth Cohort assembled at the very end, in front of the principia, since their barracks were tucked in the back corner of camp next to the stables and the latrines. For a brief moment I thought of Percy and how he most likely had no idea what was going on right now. 

The campers were dressed for war. Their polished chain mail and greaves gleamed over purple T-shirts and jeans. Sword-and-skull designs decorated their helmets. Even their leather combat boots looked ferocious with their iron cleats, great for marching through mud or stomping on faces.In front of the legionnaires, like a line of giant dominoes, stood their red and gold shields, each the size of a refrigerator door. Every legionnaire carried a harpoon like spear called a pilum, a gladius, a dagger, and about a hundred pounds of other equipment. If you were out of shape when you came to the legion, you didn't stay that way for long. Just walking around in your armor was a full-body workout.

Hazel and her brother Nico, jogged down the street as everyone was coming to attention, so their entrance was really obvious. Their footsteps echoed on the stones. Hazel caught Octavian's eye at the head of the First Cohort smirking at her, looking smug in his plumed centurion's helmet with a dozen medals pinned on his chest. I glanced over at him and stomped on his foot. 

He winced and threw me a glare. 

"Mosquito." I said. 

Reyna, who was cantering back and forth on her pegasus Scipio—nicknamed Skippy because he was the color of peanut butter. The metal dogs Aurum and Argentum trotted at her side. Her purple officer's cape billowed behind her. 

"Hazel Levesque," she called, "so glad you could join us." 

Hazel knew better than to respond. She was missing most of her equipment, but she hurried to her place in line next to Frank and stood at attention. Their lead centurion, a big seventeen-year-old guy named Dakota, was just calling her name—the last one on the roll. 

"Present!" she squeaked.

Nico joined Percy Jackson, who was standing off to one side with a couple of guards. Percy's hair was wet from the baths. He'd put on fresh clothes, but he still looked uncomfortable. I couldn't blame him. He was about to be introduced to two hundred heavily armed kids. 

The Lares were the last ones to fall in. Their purple forms flickered as they jockeyed for places. They had an annoying habit of standing halfway inside living people, so that the ranks looked like a blurry photograph, but finally the centurions got them sorted out. 

Octavian shouted, "Colors!"

The standard-bearers stepped forward. They wore lion-skin capes and held poles decorated with each cohort's emblems. The last to present his standard was Jacob, the legion's eagle bearer. He held a long pole with absolutely nothing on top. The job was supposed to be a big honor, but  Jacob obviously hated it. 

Even though Reyna insisted on following tradition, every time the eagleless pole was raised, I could feel embarrassment rippling through the legion.Reyna brought her pegasus to a halt.

"Romans!" she announced. "You've probably heard about the incursion today. Two gorgons were swept into the river by this newcomer, Percy Jackson. Juno herself guided him here, and proclaimed him a son of Neptune."