[i]I never liked chariots, anyway.[/i] thought Ben as he reached for his sword. [i]They haven't been useful in battle since Gaugamela.[/i] 

He expunged the thought, and went back to the task at hand. Hellhounds were attacking the camp and the other cabins were getting into defensive positions, and the Mars cabin wouldn't disappoint. This sort of thing was their specialty. Ben, sword in hand, reached for his whistle and blew. After a long, shrill note, he let it drop from his lips and shouted. "Sons and Daughters of Mars! On me, and someone get me a damn shield!" 

One of the benefits of being the cabin leader of Mars is that when you talk, the children of the War God usually snap to attention and do what they are told. One of his subordinates gave up his heavy roman scutum to Ben as they cabin's shields locked and they took the charge one of the few remaining hellhounds. [i]Maybe today wouldn't be such a boring day after all.[/i]