The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents (20 page)

“And this is called a—?” the piper was saying.

“A sausage, sir,” Corporal Knopf muttered.

“This is what you think is a sausage here, is it?” There was a gasp from the crowd. Bad Blintz was very proud of its traditional vole-and-pork sausages.

“Yessir,” said Corporal Knopf.

“Amazing,” said the piper. He looked up at the mayor. “And you are—?”

“I am the mayor of this town, and—”

The piper held up a hand and then nodded toward the old man, who was sitting on his cart, grinning broadly.

“My agent will deal with you,” he said. He threw away the sausage, put his feet up on the other end of the bench, pulled his hat down over his eyes, and lay back.

The mayor went red in the face. Sergeant Doppelpunkt leaned toward him. “Remember the badger, sir!” he whispered.

“Ah…yes…”

The mayor, with what little dignity he had left, walked over to the cart.

“I believe the fee for ridding the town of rats will be three hundred dollars?” he said.

“Then I expect you'll believe anything,” said the old man. He glanced at a notebook on his
knee. “Let's see…call-out fee…plus special charge because it's St. Prodnitz's Day…plus pipe tax…looks like a medium-sized town, so that's extra…wear and tear on cart…traveling costs at a dollar a mile…miscellaneous expenses, taxes, charges…” He looked up. “Tell you what, let's say one thousand dollars, okay?”

“One thousand dollars! We haven't
got
one thousand dollars! That's outrag—”

“Badger, sir!” hissed Sergeant Dopplepunkt.

“You can't pay?” asked the old man.

“We don't have that kind of money! We've had to spend a lot of money bringing in food!”

“You don't have
any
money?” said the old man.

“Nothing like that amount, no!”

The old man scratched his chin. “Hmm,” he said. “I can see where that's going to be a bit difficult, because…let's see…” He scribbled in his notebook for a moment and then looked up. “You already owe us four hundred sixty-seven dollars and nineteen cents for call-out, travel, and miscellaneous sundries.”

“What? He hasn't blown a note!”

“Ah, but he's
ready
to,” said the old man. “We've come all this way. You can't pay? What they call a bit of a problem, then. He's got to lead
something
out of the town, you see. Otherwise
the news'll get around, and no one'll show him any respect, and if you haven't got respect, what have you got? If a piper doesn't have respect, he's—”

“—rubbish,” said a voice. “I think he's rubbish.”

The piper raised the brim of his hat.

The crowd in front of Keith parted in a hurry.

“Yeah?” said the piper.

“I don't think he can pipe up even one rat,” said Keith. “He's just a fraud and a bully. Huh, I bet I can pipe up more rats than him.”

Some of the people in the crowd began to creep away. No one wanted to be around when the rat piper lost his temper.

The piper swung his boots down onto the ground and pushed his hat back on his head.

“You a rat piper, kid?” he said softly.

Keith stuck out his chin defiantly.

“Yes. And don't call me kid…old man.”

The piper grinned.

“Ah,” he said. “I
knew
I was going to like this place. And you can make a rat dance, can you, kid?”

“More than you can, piper.”

“Sounds like a challenge to me,” said the piper.

“The piper doesn't accept challenges from—” the old man on the cart began, but the rat piper
waved him into silence.

“Y'know, kid,” he said, “this isn't the first time some kid has tried this. I'm walking down the street and someone yells, ‘Go for your piccolo, mister!' and I turn around, and it's always a kid like you with a stupid-looking face. Now, I don't want anyone to say I'm an unfair man, kid, so if you'd just care to apologize, you might walk away from here with the same number of legs you started with—”

“You're
frightened
.” Malicia stepped out of the crowd.

The piper grinned at her and then stopped grinning. Malicia could do that to people. “Yeah?” he said.

“Yes, because everyone knows what happens at a time like this. Let me ask this stupid-looking kid, who I've never seen before: Are you an orphan?”

“Yes,” said Keith.

“You know nothing about your background at all?”

“No.”

“Aha!” said Malicia. “That proves it! We
all
know what happens when a mysterious orphan turns up and challenges someone big and powerful, don't we? It's like being the third and
youngest son of a king. He can't
help
but win!”

She looked triumphantly at the crowd. But the crowd looked doubtful. They hadn't read as many stories as Malicia, and were rather more attached to the experience of real life, which is that when someone small and righteous takes on someone big and nasty, he is grilled bread product, very quickly.

However, someone at the back shouted, “Give the stupid-looking kid a chance! At least he'll be cheaper!” and someone else shouted, “Yes, that's right!” and someone else shouted, “I agree with the other two!” and
no one
seemed to notice that all the voices came from near ground level and were associated with the progress around the crowd of a scruffy-looking cat with half its fur missing. Instead, there was a general murmuring, no real words, nothing that would get anyone into trouble if the piper turned nasty, but a muttering indicating, in a general sense, without wishing to cause umbrage, and seeing everyone's point of view, and taking one thing with another, and all things being equal, that people would like to see the boy given a chance, if it's all right with you, no offense meant.

The piper shrugged.

“Fine,” he said. “It'll be something to talk
about. And when I win, what will I get?”

The mayor coughed.

“Is a daughter's hand in marriage usual in these circumstances?” he said. “She has very good teeth and would make a goo—a wife for anyone with plenty of free wall space—”

“Father!” said Malicia.

“Later on, later on, obviously. He's unpleasant, but he
is
rich.”

“No, I'll just take my payment,” said the piper. “One way or another.”

“And I said we can't afford it!” said the mayor.

“And I said one way or the other,” said the piper. “And you, kid?”

“Your rat pipe,” said Keith.

“No. It's magic, kid.”

“Then why are you scared to bet it?”

The piper narrowed his eyes.

“Scared? No. Okay, kid…the rat pipe,” he said.

“And the town must let me solve its rat problem,” said Keith.

“And how much will
you
charge?” asked the mayor.

“Thirty gold pieces! Thirty gold pieces. Go on, say it!” shouted a voice at the back of the crowd.

“It won't cost you a thing,” said Keith.

“Idiot!” shouted the voice in the crowd. People looked around, puzzled.

“Nothing at all?” said the mayor.

“No, nothing.”

“Er…the hand-in-marriage thing is still on offer, if you—”

“Father!”

“No, that only happens in stories,” said Keith. “And I shall also bring back a lot of the food that the rats stole.”

“They
ate
it!” said the mayor. “What're you going to do, stick your fingers down their throats?”

“I said that I'll solve your rat problem,” said Keith. “Agreed, Mr. Mayor?”

“Well, if you're not charging—”

“But first I shall need to borrow a pipe,” Keith went on.

“You haven't got one?” asked the mayor.

“It got broken.”

Corporal Knopf nudged the mayor. “I've got a trombone from when I was in the army,” he said. “It won't take a moment to get it.”

The rat piper burst out laughing.

“Doesn't that count?” asked the mayor, as Corporal Knopf hurried off.

“What? A trombone for charming rats? No, no, let him try. Can't blame a kid for trying.
Good with a trombone, are you?”

“I don't know,” said Keith.

“What do you mean, you don't know?”

“I meant I've never played one. I'd be a lot happier with a flute, trumpet, piccolo, cornet, or Lancre bagpipe, but I've seen people playing the trombone, and it doesn't look too difficult. It's only an overgrown trumpet, really.”

“Hah!” said the piper. “This I'd like to see—but not hear.”

The Watch came running back, rubbing a battered trombone with his sleeve and therefore making it just a bit more grimy. Keith took it, wiped the mouthpiece, put it to his mouth, moved the slide a few times, and then blew one long note.

“Seems to work,” he said. “I expect I can learn as I go along.” He gave the rat piper a brief smile. “Do you want to go first?”

“You won't charm one rat with that mess, kid,” said the piper, “but I'm glad I'm here to see you try.”

Keith gave him a smile again, took a breath, and played.

There was a tune there. The instrument squeaked and wheezed, because Corporal Knopf had occasionally used the thing as a hammer, but
there was a tune, quite fast, almost jaunty. You could tap your feet to it.

Someone tapped his feet to it.

Sardines emerged from a crack in a nearby wall, going “hwun
two
three
four
” under his breath. The crowd watched him dance ferociously across the cobbles until he disappeared into a drain. Then they broke into applause.

The piper looked at Keith.

“Did that one have a
hat
on?” he asked.

“I didn't notice,” said Keith. “Your go.”

The piper pulled a short length of pipe from inside his jacket. He took another length from his pocket and slotted it into place on the first piece. It went
click
in a military kind of way.

Still watching Keith, and still grinning, the piper took a mouthpiece from his top pocket and screwed it into the rest of the pipe with another, very final,
click
.

Then he put it to his mouth and played.

From her lookout on a roof Big Savings shouted down a drainpipe, “Now!” Then she pushed two lumps of cotton into her ears.

At the bottom of the pipe, Inbrine shouted into a drain: “Now!” and then he too snatched up his earplugs.

…
ow, ow, ow
echoed through the pipes……“Now!” shouted Darktan, in the room of cages. He rammed some straw onto the end of the pipe. “Everyone block your ears!”

They'd done their best with the cages. Malicia had brought blankets, and the rats had spent a feverish hour blocking up holes with mud. They'd done their best to feed the prisoners properly, too, and even though they were only
keekees
, it was heartbreaking to see them cower so desperately.

Darktan turned to Nourishing. “Got your ears blocked?” he said.

“Pardon?”

“Good!” Darktan picked up two lumps of cotton. “The silly-sounding girl better be right about this stuff,” he said. “I don't think many of us have got any strength left to dance.”

 

The piper blew again, and then stared at his pipe.

“Just one rat,” said Keith helpfully. “Any rat you like. No rush.”

The piper glared at him and blew again.

“I can't hear anything,” said the mayor.

“Humans can't,” muttered the piper.

“Perhaps it's broken,” said Keith innocently.

The piper tried again. There was murmuring from the crowd.

“You've done something,” he hissed.

“Oh yes?” said Malicia, loudly. “What could he have done? Told the rats to stay underground with their ears blocked up?”

The murmuring turned into muffled laughter.

The piper tried one more time. Keith felt the hairs stand up on the back of his neck.

A rat emerged. It moved slowly across the cobbles, bouncing from side to side, until it reached the piper's feet, where it fell over and started making a whirring noise.

People's mouths fell open.

It was Mr. Clicky.

The piper nudged it with his foot. The clockwork rat rolled over a few times, and then its spring, as a result of months of being punished in traps, gave up. There was a
poiyonngggg
, and a brief shower of cogwheels.

The crowd burst out laughing.

“Hmm,” said the piper, and this time the look he gave Keith was shaded with grudging admiration.

“Okay, kid,” he said. “Shall you and I have a little talk? Piper to piper? Over by the fountain?”

“Provided people can see us,” said Keith.

“You don't trust me, kid?”

“Of course not.”

The piper grinned. “Good. You've got the makings of a piper, I can see that.”

Over by the fountain he sat down with his booted legs in front of him and held out the pipe. It was bronze, with a raised pattern of brass rats on it, and it glinted in the sunlight.

“Here,” said the piper. “Take it. It's a good one. I've got plenty of others. Go on, take it. I'd like to hear you play it.”

Keith looked at it uncertainly, turning it over and over in his hands.

“It's
all
trickery, kid,” said the piper, as the pipe shone like a sunbeam. “See the little slider there? Move it down and the pipe plays a special note humans can't hear. Rats can. Sends 'em nuts. They come rushing out of the ground and you drive 'em into the river, just like a sheep dog.”

“That's all there is to it?” said Keith.

“You were expecting something more?”