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The Aeolian Master - Book One - Revival


When they were twenty yards from the tree two men stepped out from behind it. The man on the left was
wearing a black tunic draped behind a black body suit with a black helmet adorning his head. A black mask
covered his face leaving openings for his eyes and nose only. He had a sword hanging from his belt on his left
hip.
The other man was also wearing a mask, but it was every color of the rainbow as was his suit. He was
wearing a vest with twelve daggers.
Sam pulled his sword from its sheath with his right hand and stroked his mustache with the other one. "I bet
you’re surprised to see us," he said.
The two men said nothing. They waited.
"What, no chatter?" Sam's tone was bitter and sarcastic. "The last one was full of chatter. But alas, now he's
full of holes."
Ben took a step forward. “I’m assuming you both placed in the Galactic Games, which means you know me.
So, I’m asking you to let us go.”
Still, they said nothing. The dagger man pulled two daggers from his chest—one for each hand. The
swordsman drew his sword. And they stepped apart.
"I guess not," said Ben.
The four of them spread out. “Go for the dagger man first.” Ben was wishing he had a shield. He drew both
swords. His only chance was to deflect one of the daggers, but he knew his timing would have to be perfect.
One deflection would be enough time.
The dagger man raised his hand making ready to throw, and that’s when a wooden shaft with feathers
sprouted from his shoulder.
Blood curled down his chest. He dropped his daggers clutching his shoulder in agony. He fell to his knees
and cried out in pain.
Ben looked behind. The archer was no more than a hundred meters away.
“The archer caught up, and he missed!” yelled Sam. “And damned lucky for us.”
Ben started for the swordsman, but before he had gone two steps the man threw down his sword and ran
away.
"It almost seems too easy," laughed Gaal.
They took off running for the safety chamber.
Ben retrieved an energy bar, sat on the couch and started eating it. Gaal pushed a button on the water
dispenser, retrieved a bottled-water, and started drinking it. Dahms stood looking out the window, and Sam
stepped up to the counter and pulled a cigar out of a box.
“These are damned expensive cigars,” said Sam, “but they’re not Mithians. You know, a blackened, Mithian
cigar is the most exhilarating, legal, non-narcotic, stimulant in the galaxy, and right now, after all the crap
we’ve been through, I’d like nothing more than to rest my weary bones while sipping on a drink and watching a
movie on the screen. And then I’d light up a Mith, take a deep drag, inhaling and then exhaling, letting the
smoke curl slowly through my nostrils and into the air. “Damn,” he blurted out, “Right now I’d give my left
testicle for a Mithian cigar.”
“You shouldn’t have said that,” said Ben. “You know how crazy Hurd is, and you know how he likes the
‘left’ of anything,—he might take you up on your proposal.”
“I hope he’s not that crazy,” said Sam. He struck a match.
Ben grimaced. “Would you mind not smoking that it here?” he asked.
“You worried about your health? We probably won’t make it through the next zone.”
“Maybe living on Ar you haven’t heard—the medical profession has a cure for lung cancer or for any cancer.
So it’s not my health I’m worried about. I just don’t like the smell of those things, and I don’t like breathing the
smoke.”
“Okay,” said Sam. “But I don’t want to wait.” He went to the door, hit the palm lock, and as the door
opened he stepped outside lighting his cigar as he went.
Dahms retrieved an energy bar and started eating it.
 
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