Thief of Time - Terry Pratchett [64]
“And there was me thinking they’re a protected species,” said Lu-Tze, leaning his broom against a tree.
“They’re only a kind of troll. Who’s going to protect them out here?” said the hunter. Behind him, the local guides, who did know Rule One, turned and ran.
“Me,” said Lu-Tze.
“Oh?” said the hunter, and this time the grin was nasty. “You don’t even have a weapon.” He turned to look at the fleeing guides. “You’re one of the weird monks from up in the valleys, aren’t you?”
“That’s right,” said Lu-Tze. “Small, grinning, weird monk. Totally unarmed.”
“And there’s fifteen of us,” said the hunter. “Well armed, as you can see.”
“It’s very important that you are all heavily armed,” said Lu-Tze, pulling his sleeves out of the way. “It makes it fairer.”
He rubbed his hands together. No one seemed inclined to retreat.
“Er…any of you boys heard of any rules?” he said after a while.
“Rules?” said one of the hunters. “What rules?”
“Oh, you know,” said Lu-Tze. “Rules like…Rule Two, say, or Rule Twenty-Seven. Any kind of rules of that sort of description.”
The leading hunter frowned.
“What in damnation are you talking about, mister?”
“Er…not so much a ‘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?