Thief of Time

‘mister’ as a small, rather knowing, elderly, entirely unarmed, weird monk,” said Lu-Tze. “I’m just wondering if there is anything about this situation that makes you, you know…slightly nervous?”
    “You mean, us being well-armed and outnumbering you, and you backing away like that?” said one of the hunters.
    “Ah. Yes,” said Lu-Tze. “Perhaps we’re up against a cultural thing here. I know, how about…this!” He stood on one leg, wobbling a little, and raised both hands. “Ai! Hai-eee! Ho? Ye-hi? No? Anyone?”
    There was a certain amount of bewilderment among the hunters.
    “Is it a book?” said one who was slightly intellectual. “How many words?”
    “What I’m trying to find out here,” said Lu-Tze, “is whether you have any idea what happens when a lot of big armed men try to attack a small, elderly, unarmed monk…?”
    “To the best of my knowledge,” said the intellectual of the group, “he turns out to be a very unlucky monk.”
    Lu-Tze shrugged.
    “Oh, well,” he said, “then we’ll just have to try it the hard way.”
    A blur in the air hit the intellectual on the back of the neck. The leader stirred to step forward, and learned too late that his bootlaces were tied together. Men reached for knives that were no longer in sheathes, for swords that were inexplicably leaning against a tree on the far side of the clearing. Legs were swept from underneath them, invisible elbows connected with soft parts of their bodies. Blows rained out of empty air. Those who fell down learned to stay that way. A raised head hurt.
    The group was reduced to men lying humbly on the ground, groaning gently. It was then that they heard a low, rhythmic sound.
    The yeti was clapping. It had to be a slow handclap, because of the creature’s long arms. But when the hands met, they’d come a long way and were glad to see one another. They echoed around the mountains.
    Lu-Tze reached down and raised the leader’s chin.
    “If you have enjoyed this afternoon, please tell your friends,” he said. “Tell them to remember Rule One.”
    He let the chin go, and walked across to the yeti, and bowed.
    “Shall I release you, sir, or would you like to do it yourself?” he said.
    The yeti stood up, looked down at the cruel iron trap around one leg, and concentrated for a moment.
    At the end of the moment, the yeti was a little way from the trap, which was still set and almost hidden in leaves.
    “Well done,” said Lu-Tze. “Methodical. And very smooth. Headed down to the lowlands?”
    The yeti had to bend double to bring its long face close to Lu-Tze.
    “Yass,” it said.
    “What do you want to do with these people?”
    The yeti looked around at the cowering hunters.
    “It bein’ daark soon,” it said. “No guides noaw.”
    “They’ve got torches,” said Lu-Tze.
    “Ha. Ha,” said the yeti, and it said it, rather than laughed. “Dat’s good . Torches show up aat night.”
    “Hah! Yes. Can you give us a lift? It’s really important.”
    “You and daat whizzin’ kid I seein’ there?”
    A patch of gray air at the edge of the clearing became Lobsang, out of breath. He dropped the broken branch he’d been holding.
    “The lad is called Lobsang. I’m training him up,” said Lu-Tze.
    “Looks like you gotta hurry before you runnin’ out of things he don’t knoow,” said the yeti. “Ha. Ha.”
    “Sweeper, what were you—” Lobsang began, hurrying forward. Lu-Tze put his finger to his lips. “Not in front of our fallen friends,” he said. “I’m looking for Rule One to become a lot better respected in these parts as a result of this day’s work.”
    “But I had to do all the—”
    “We must be going,” said Lu-Tze, waving him into silence. “I reckon we can snooze quite happily while our friend here carries us.”
    Lobsang glanced up at the yeti and then back to Lu-Tze. And then back to the yeti. It was tall . In some ways it was like the trolls he’d met in the city, but rolled out thin. It was more than twice as high as he was, and most of the extra height was skinny legs and arms. The body was a ball of fur, and the feet were indeed huge.
    “If he could’ve got out of the trap at any—” he began.
    “ You are the apprentice, right?” said Lu-Tze. “ Me , I’m the master? I’m sure I wrote that down somewhere…”
    “But you said you weren’t going to say any of those know-it-all—”
    “Remember Rule One! Oh, and pick up one of those swords. We’ll