The Trials of Aphrodite: Righting the Wrongs

The Beautiful People Are Always My Children. Unfair!

The Trials of Aphrodite

♦ Chapter Four ♦

After Hazel had shown me the barracks, horns blew in the distance. Hazel muttered a curse in Latin. "Quick! We're going to be late!"

Our feet pounded on the cement, and my breaths came in short bursts. "Why not come tardy? I love being fashionably late!" I said, my chest heaving.

Hazel didn't stop running. My gods, that girl had as much energy as a pixie. I was out of shape and still adjusting to my mortal body. "Roman punishments are the worst. Our centurions are nicer than most, but unless you want to measure every blade of grass in camp or be sewn into a sack of weasels and thrown into the Little Tiber, we're not going to be late."

I shuddered at that. I remembered that the Romans were a harsh people, disciplined and militarized. I knew it was much harder to train here than at Camp Half-Blood, where the activities were a little less barbaric. I'd always liked Greece better, even though my children weren't respected. In Rome, however, I had a little more appreciation as Venus. I was quite proud when my son, Aeneas, became the father of Rome. Finally, at least one of my children made me a respected goddess. But after that, I was dismissed as conceited and shallow, and so were my offspring. Finally, Piper restored my reputation by becoming a hero of Olympus. Alas, that fame will come to an end soon. Time isn't the same for gods, so one year hardly makes a blip in our timeline.

The legion assembling was an impressive sight. Two hundred strong, and all heavily armed. I didn't know much about weapons, as it wasn't in my field of experience. Ares knows all about it, but I don't bother learning.

But it was vital that I knew, if I was to survive. "What sort of weapons are those?" I asked Hazel.

Hazel's gaze was unfocused, and she had a dreamy look in her eyes. I snapped my fingers and her face, and she recoiled. Her strange golden eyes found mine. "Oh...hmm?"

I repeated my question, and she nodded. "Our weapons are made of Imperial gold. Every legionnaire carries either a pilum or a gladius. The pilum is the spear, and the gladius is the sword."

I pointed to her weapon. "Then why does yours appear to be different?"

She blushed. "I use a cavalry sword, a spatha. Romans look down on fighting on horseback; they prefer fighting on foot. They used to look down on me, but I'm allowed to use it since I have my own horse."

"Arion?"

"Yes. He likes gold," Hazel said casually.

"Never met a horse that admires the beauty of gold. We might make very good friends," I replied.

Hazel laughed. "No, no, he likes to eat gold."

My eye twitched. "Pardon?"

"It's his favorite food. I can summon precious metals from the ground, and I feed him a gold nugget every now and then."

My jaw dropped. "And it doesn't give the poor thing indigestion?"

"I guess not. He-"

"Girls," Reyna called from the front. She was standing beside Frank, and her voice and stance were laced with authority. "Would you like to share with us your conversation, or may we begin?"

Hazel winced. "Sorry, Reyna."

A few Romans snickered. Reyna cleared her throat. Her purple officer's cape flew behind her, and her eyes were cold and sharp.

"Ren Amore and Hazel Levesque," she said, staring us down. It took all of my willpower not to cower under her gaze. "So glad you could join us."

Hazel hurried to her place in line, where a tall boy with his lips stained red was calling roll. He looked like either a Kool-Aid addict or a wannabe vampire.