Prisoner of War

I'm just going to say this now, and this applies for the whole book, I DO NOT own the Percy Jackson series, or any of the characters that come from those books! Rick Riordan has full ownership, I am but a humble writer.

       3rd Person POV

Princess Annabeth of Pendrane gave a quick sigh of relief. The messenger had just told her that the war was over. She came out of her luxurious tent, and strolled through the army camp. She couldn’t believe that her father had actually let her come and help with the strategies for the war. Of course, she hadn’t been allowed to fight, even though she had the ability to. Her father wanted her to be able to defend herself if she ever got herself into trouble, he knew her very well.

 She walked over to her brother Luke, crown prince of Pendrane. He had sandy blond hair and sparkling blue eyes. Different from her golden blond hair and startling grey eyes. He was currently looking at the prisoners they had captured, all warriors of the enemy, the Kingdom of Septuron. The men were all lined up in rows, on their knees and bound in chains. There were soldiers patrolling the rows to make sure that none of them made a mad dash for freedom, not that they would get very far.

 There was a young man in the middle of all the others that interested her. Despite the fact that he was beaten and bruised, held by chains, and was suffering the disgrace of being shirtless like a common slave, the young man, who couldn’t have been more then 19, a little older then her, held his head tall and proud. She couldn’t help but take in his handsome form. For barbarians, the enemy had created a very fine specimen. His muscular body was that of a swordsman, showing off years of brutal training, and she couldn’t see his eyes, but she guessed they were that of a warrior. His raven black hair was stuck to side of his head by blood, which may or may not have been his. He may have been holding himself up with honor and dignity, but she could see the effort it took. They had, after all, just finished the final battle, he must be exhausted.

 Her attention was brought back to the present by the sound of her brother’s voice, “Just tell us what became of your prince. We know that he survived, and he is the only one we want. As a reward for this information, we will let whoever lends a hand in his capture go free.”

 The men of the opposing army stirred, some looked scared, some looked angry, but a few looked just plain horrified.

 “You think that we would sell out our Prince?” One man yelled in disbelief. His statement was met with many more of the same kind from his kinsman. Another man proclaimed,

 “Despite what you people may think, we are not without honor! We would all happily die before betraying his trust!” Shouts of agreement were heard throughout the dozens of men.

 Luke didn’t let any emotion cross his face, but he was seething inside, he wanted that prince.

 “So be it.” He proclaimed. Then he gave the order to his men. They started to slay the men, one by one.  Angry cries and shouts of protest were heard, the men struggled in their chains, straining to reach their fallen brethren.

 “Wait,” he spoke after the tenth man had fallen, “Do you still wish to defy me?”

 His question was greeted with silence. He gave the order to carry on.

 “Stop!” said a young man from the back, “I’ll tell you were he is!” He was crying in desperation, and he struggled to reach the crown prince. Annabeth looked in surprise at this man. It was the proud black haired boy she had seen before.

 Some Pendranian soldiers carried him forward until he was kneeling at the prince’s feet.

 “I’ll tell you where he is, but you must promise to set all the men free.” The men of the army cried out in protest, but they were ignored.