My fingers had barely combed my wet hair out of my eyes when I came face to face with Ajax. He was even more imposing in person than he had been in the vision Tadêfi had imparted to me. He was a few centimeters over two meters (6' 9") and one hundred and forty-five kilograms (320 lbs.) of solid muscle.He was also a hairy cuss, with long, thick black hair, a trimmed mustache and beard, and body hair evident on every bit of exposed flesh, except his palms. I wasn't certain who would have out arm-wrestled who - him or dead uncle Carrig. He was equipped in a modern style - firearms and body armor similar to his men. On the plus side, he was smiling at me.What followed was in his native language, Mycenaean Greek."I was told you didn't lack courage," he noted."I am indeed fearless," I retorted, "but I make up for it by being dumb as a stump." Laughter all around. By that time, the assembled Greeks amounted to over twenty men, Molpadia / Kwenhamai and four large hunting dogs.Oh crap, th
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