The Trials of Aphrodite: Righting the Wrongs

What Could Be More Fun Than Getting Hacked to Pieces?

The Trials of Aphrodite

♦ Chapter Six ♦

We marched to the war games in perfect formation, and nausea churned in my stomach. Via helped me into my armor, and I'd spent about five minutes finding the perfect 'fit.' But instead of clothing, it was weapons.

I'd decided to use a pilum, since it was a spear and one of the longer weapons. Via taught me how to use it properly, and I thought I had it down. And if I had a spear, nothing could go wrong, right?

I imagine the Fates laughing at me right then.

The cohort formed two lines behind Via and Mike, the two centurions. They traveled north, to the Field of Mars. 

The Field of Mars really deserved its title. It looked like a battlefield-pitted with gigantic craters and scarred with trenches. It looked like several meteors had struck the Earth's surface. The field was the flattest part of the valley, and definitely the largest. The grass was cropped short, almost like it had been given a military buzz-cut. A stone fortress stood strong at the far end, riddled with all kinds of traps and other nice surprises. 

"They built it pretty good today," Cynthia remarked from behind me. "That isn't good for us, though."

"Hold on," I said, still confused. "That fortress . . . was built today?"

Via grinned, which only enhanced her scariness. "We're trained to build. We could tear down the entire camp and rebuild it in . . . hmm, three or four days, give or take."

Impressive. I keep on underestimating you mortals.

"You do this every night?"

"Nah," Mike said. "That would be boring."

His definition of boring and my definition of boring were two different things.

"Not every night," Via chimed in. "Some nights we do deathball . . . which is sorta like painball except more violent. You know, poison and acid and fireballs. Cool, right?"

"Very cool," I said, though I felt the exact opposite. "Deathball. Being boiled alive. Getting burned by fireballs. So fun."

I didn't think Michael could take a hint that I was using sarcasm. "Yeah! We also have chariot races and gladiator competitions, sometimes war games. Tonight is war games."

Via nodded and pointed to the fort. "Inside, Fourth and Fifth are guarding the banners. We've gotta break in and capture 'em without dying painfully. We do that, and we win."

"Like going into a shoe shop and getting the best deals. Heels are expensive!" I exclaimed.

Mike hesitated. "Um . . ."

"Are you kidding?" Cynthia asked.

"I would never kid about shoes, dear," I said. "People are like rabid animals in there. You have to keep your wits about you. Once, I found these cute stiletto heels studded with rhinestones, and I was just about to buy them, and this old woman snatched them from me! I mean, the nerve! I wanted to—"

"Uh, anyway," Via said, scratching her head. "It's a lot harder than stealing high heels from an old lady. It's like stealing dino eggs from a mother dinosaur."

My eyes widened. "Erm, forget what I said about the shoes."

"They've got scorpion ballistae and water cannons on the walls, which we should do our best to avoid," Cynthia said. "Then we'll have to fight our way in, find the banners, defeat the guards, and at the same time protecting our own banners and troops from getting captured. Our allies are Second and Third, which we sort of work together with. The cohort that steals the banners gets all the glory."