6 The Frozen Swordsman

Curt's teeth were chattering as he and Bauph trudged up the snow-covered mountain path. No where Curt has been was as cold as this. Freezing was an understatement. The temperature in the Dusts dropped drastically at night, but not to the point where it felt like his blood was turning to ice. He figured he was probably shaking like a rattlesnake's tail.

The duo had parted ways with the caravan earlier that day. The clouds and snow shrouded the sky, making it difficult to tell how long they've been walking. Each step was excruciatingly slow as Curt waded through snow that nearly went up to his knees. Bauph looked almost like a golden bear as he plowed on. He didn't seem to be as bothered by the cold as Curt.

"Do you know how much longer until we're there?" Curt had to shout in the roaring winds.

He could barely make out Bauph shaking his head. "I've never been to the Tu'ban tribe before, much less this mountain."

They continued to march up the mountain in silence. The biting wind made even small talk tiring and miserable. Curt wished he had spent the gold he made from the rabbit job on a coat while he was still at the merchant caravan.

Curt stopped. He put up a hand and Bauph, seeing the motion, stopped as well. The two stood without a word, ears straining to hear in the blizzard. Sure enough, low growling could be heard from all around them.

Curt placed both of his hands on the butts of his new revolvers. "Wolves?"

"No," Bauph replied. "Probably yetis. I remember hearing about how these mountains are full of them. Be careful, they're known to throw—"

A large ball of snow came tumbling down the slope. Curt dived out of the way, just as several dark forms emerged from the pine trees. Even hunched over, the yetis towered over Curt. The creatures were about as large as a bear, with blue-white fur covering their backs and two large canines protruding from their lower jaw.

"Thanks for the warning," Curt said as he stood back up.

Both revolvers were now drawn. The guns were lighter than he was used to, but they fit comfortably in his hands. The entire gun was a laser green in color, and Curt guessed that was a byproduct of infusing the metal with magic. Well, he didn't care what they looked like, so long as they didn't backfire on him. The yetis seemed like they'd serve as a decent warm-up, though they were a bit too large for target practice. Glancing over at Bauph, Curt also thought it'd be good to see what the priest could do.

In fact, Bauph was chanting to himself. From the sounds of it, he was literally saying his prayers. It seemed like Bauph was once again, resigning himself to his fate, but then he saw that the priest's hands glowed with each chant.

The yeti closest to Bauph launched itself into the air. The beast snarled as it leapt towards Bauph, massive arms outstretched to tear him apart. Bauph didn't even blink as he grabbed the large cross behind his back and swung it at the yeti. A harsh crack resounded into the air as the yeti was slammed against a tree trunk where it lay, unmoving. The other yetis howled and screeched with anger.

There was no way a normal human could've done something like that. All that chanting and glowing must've been some kind of spell. Magic sure seemed useful. Not one to be shown up, Curt thought it was about time to show what he could do.

Pointing one of the revolvers at the nearest yeti, Curt pulled the trigger. The yeti's hideous face continued to glower at Curt, not having been blown to pieces like he was expecting it too.

"The fu—"

The same yeti began to charge at Curt, baring its large fangs at him. Curt tried to dodge, but the yeti was too fast. A radiant spear sailed through the air, pinning the yeti to the ground as it bellowed in pain, just before its arms could reach Curt. Curt saw as Bauph conjured up another spear, tossing it toward another yeti who managed to duck under it at the last second.

Curt gritted his teeth as backed away from another yeti who tried to swipe his arm off. There was no worse feeling than being dead weight, or feeling like you owed someone. But a close contender was pulling the trigger of an empty gun. Curt scrambled behind a snow covered boulder and examined his revolvers in relative peace. The chambers were definitely empty. He picked a few spares off his bandolier, but realized there was no place to load them.

Of course Otto's old revolvers would give him trouble. Of course they'd be as unstraightfoward as their previous owner. Curt sighed, hearing another yeti roar with pain in the background. At least Bauph seemed like he could hold his own.

"I could use some help here, Curt!" Bauph yelled. Or maybe not.

Curt stared down at the revolvers in his hands, trying to puzzle out their secrets one last time. The chamber was completely sealed, of that he was certain. These were revolvers that were made to be impossible to load with bullets. Normal bullets, at least. These were magic, weren't they?

He closed his eyes, drowning out the sounds of battle behind him. He didn't believe in magic back up in the Dusts, but down here where he's seen proof it existed, he was willing to believe in it. Focusing on the guns in his hands, he felt a strange tug from them.

Opening his eyes again, Curt emerged from behind the rock, pointing the gun at a yeti who was about to launch a huge chunk of ice at Bauph. He gave in to the invisible pull from the guns as he pulled the trigger once more. He felt something drain from him just as the gun fired.

A bullet encased in flames cut through the air, sinking into yeti's chest before exploding and causing the yeti to become engulfed in fire. Curt let out a low whistle. He had two guns that needed no bullets, and apparently shot explosive fire shots. He had to hand it to Kirina; she sure knew how to make a gun.

Not needing to worry about reloading, Curt let out a barrage of bullets at the remaining yetis. In no time at all, the eight yetis that tried to ambush them littered the snow at their feet. Half of them had singed fur and thin trails of smoke rising from their bodies. The other half were either bruised or speared through. Curt panted, returning the guns to their holsters. One bullet didn't seem to take much, but he supposed a barrage of them could be quite draining. It was like he had been constantly sprinting.

"A bit late, Curt," said Bauph as he returned the giant cross to his back. "Had some trouble with that weapon of your's?"

Curt shrugged. "Nah, I just didn't know how to use these at first. But damn, magic sure is wonderful." Curt stared admiringly at the pair of electric green revolvers.

"That place up in the sky where you and Otto are from, are these 'guns' common weapons?"

Curt nodded. "Yeah, pretty much. You know back up there we don't have magic. We'd have to manually reload these with bullets." Curt picked up one of the bullets from his bandolier in example. "Anyways, what was all that chanting you were doing earlier? Some kind of spell?"

"Several, actually. As a crusader of the Holy Order, we are allowed to learn some of the holy magic. Most of them are oriented towards healing or strengthening others, but there are a few that are meant for combat. That spear you saw me throw was one of them."

Curt wanted to ask more about what Bauph was capable of, but a more mundane-looking spear sailed through the air and impaled the ground by their feet.

"Halt there, stranger." A woman and a man, both dressed in what appeared to be yeti furs and wielding spears pointed at them, appeared in the path in front of them. Dark blue paint tattooed their bare arms and legs. Just looking at them made Curt feel cold.

The woman spoke again, "You two must be pretty strong to have fended off a group of yetis. However, you are beginning to intrude upon Tu'ban territory. Leave now."

Bauph took a step forward. The Tu'bans tensed, raising their spears slightly at his approach. Bauph held out his hands, palms forward. "We're not here to disturb the Tu'ban. We're here because we're looking for a swordsman who came here about a month ago."

The Tu'ban man spoke this time. "You speak of the one who saved our tribe? What business do you have with him?" He glared, holding the spear tip pointed straight at Bauph's heart.

We're here to kidnap him, seemed like a poor choice of words, thought Curt. Instead, before Bauph could reply, Curt said, "We're his guild mates. He didn't come back after so long, we came here to get him and make sure he's okay."

For a moment, Curt wondered if he picked the wrong lie as the Tu'ban man's eyes narrowed with suspicion as he looked at them. Then, the spears lifted. "Very well," he said. "We'll take you to him. It is good for a guild to look after their own."

---

The Tu'bans led them to their village, as promised, instead of pushing them off a cliff, which Curt was thankful for. Neither of their escorts said a word to them, and they only occasionally glared back to make sure Curt and Bauph were keeping up.

The Tu'ban's village was surrounded by walls made from the trunks of pine trees, their tops sharped to a point to deter invaders. It looked more like a fort or military encampment than a residential one. Then again, if yetis like the ones that attacked them were abundant around here, it probably was wise to have defenses like these.

All of the Tu'ban villagers followed the two obvious outsiders with suspicious eyes, not bothering to hide or veil their curiosity and distrust. They'd stop what they were doing to stare, and the children would duck into houses at their approach.

Bauph whispered to Curt so their escorts wouldn't hear. "The Tu'ban have had a bad history with the kingdom. Not long ago they were invaded, so they have a reason to distrust us. Their village is actually kept hidden and secret from outsiders. Most trading is done with them coming down the mountain. I'm surprised they let us in, to be honest."

Their guides brought them to the largest dwelling in the village: an enormous yurt that was easily twice the size of the others. Pulling back the flap, the Tu'ban woman motioned for them to enter.

"This is the Chief's home. Your friend is also inside."

The interior of the yurt was full of wonderful heat. Embers glowed in a fire pit in the center of the room, and the heavy furs blocked the frigid wind from coming inside. Curt couldn't help but relax. He was finally warm. He could feel his fingers and toes defrosting.

A large pot of stew was steaming over the fire pit. A bulky man wearing an assortment of animal furs, some of them yeti, was lounging with a bowl of stew in his hand. He was talking to a man across from him when Curt and Bauph entered the yurt.

"Why are there outsiders in my home?" The man bellowed. He set down his and stood up. He seemed double the size of Curt in every dimension, and even towered over Bauph.

The Tu'ban woman apologized, and said,"They claim to be guild members with Xujen."

"Friends of yours?" The Tu'ban chief turned to the man still sitting down, back turned to the strangers, sipping his own bowl of stew slowly.

The man they called Xujen stood up. He was not quite as tall as Curt or Bauph, and his physique fell somewhere in between the two. Not as lean, but not as bulky. Long, silver hair fell down his back from under his wide, conical hat that seemed to be made from straw or grasses. Despite the unusual hair color, he appeared to be as young as Curt or Bauph. He turned, looking over at Curt and Bauph with ice blue eyes. He wore long, loose fitting robes and simple sandals that seemed ill-suited to the weather outside the yurt. At his waist was a modest, black scabbard. The sword was missing. But maybe swords in this world were manifested magically like the bullets or the spears, thought Curt.

All in all, he didn't look like anyone Curt had seen before.

Before the Xujen could say anything, Curt threw up his arms and walked straight up to him. Clasping a hand over the stranger's shoulder, Curt smiled brightly as he lied through his teeth, "Xujen! It's been so long. We're glad to see you're doing okay. There's a lot we need to fill you in on guild stuff, so if you don't mind, we'd like to talk in private."

Bauph had the grace to only look baffled for a second before he too, joined in. "Yes, we're here on pretty urgent business. You're needed back at the guild headquarters. We need to debrief you right away."

It seemed like Otto's influence spread quickly.

"Just make it quick. I need to take a leak anyways," the chief said as he left the yurt.

Then, they were alone. Xujen kicked out behind him, sending Curt falling backwards onto the floor. In a single motion, Xujen had the scabbard held up to Curt's neck.

"You have good reflexes," Xujen remarked after a pause. He lifted the scabbard away from Curt, letting the gunslinger get back up.

"I try," Curt replied, lowering the gun that was pointed at Xujen's temple.

"So," Xujen said, looking between Bauph and Curt. "Who are you people?"