by David Wise
Lord Godefroy howled like a wild animal. He fell back, staggering, and struck the far wall of the hallway.
He pulled the face and the body behind it through the window as he did. Its claws dug into the bones of his arm. Its wide, frozen eyes silently drank him in as the mouth opened, a black wound on a face like a snowfield.
Wilfred, said the face as he screamed.
He threw himself forward, trying to push it all back through the window. He beat at the fingers that gripped him. He swung his arm to knock the fingers off against the windowpanes. His other arm passed close by the windowpanes.
Something grabbed that other arm, the iron grip tearing old flesh. Something pulled itself into the hall as he struggled back, placed blue lips to Lord Godefroy's ear.
I hate you, it said. Its cold breath blew worms and grave rot over Lord Godefroy's fine black jacket and ruffled shirt. The lord of Gryphon Hill saw its white eyes next to his own, set in a face of cold blue stone, and he screamed and screamed and screamed, until his screaming was all there was in the universe.
Wilfred. One pulled him toward his study.
I hate you. The other pushed.
He was in his study. Four cold arms brought him to his chair. His limbs flailed. He kicked his feet at them, striking nothing, helpless as wood in a vice. Their touch made him solid. His new body was just like his old. It couldn't fly. It couldn't fade through the chair. It ached. It bruised. It was cold, cold, cold. And his Touch was gone.
They forced him down in his chair. The small, dead blue face mouthed words as it levered his right arm down against the arm of his favorite chair. Only one word issued from the black mouth of the dead white face as it pressed his other arm down as well. It was terribly easy. They had done this many times before.
In the depths of madness, Lord Godefroy now remembered the first time this had happened, ages ago, the night he had killed his wife and child. Then it all happened again, the night after that, then all the nights after that, on forever, until he escaped them at last by drinking bitter herbs he bought from the apothecary, falling into his last sleep in this very chair. The next day he had his new body and new powers while the powerless old body was buried far, far away, and he came back to Gryphon Hill to rule again. He had been free, free, free!
That freedom had lasted one day.
Estelle and Amanda came back that night, unstoppable. And they were back the night after that. And the night after that. It was too much to live with, even in death, and his mind was gone from trying to block it out.
A cold, foul breeze brushed his face. He opened his eyes for a moment. It was the wrong thing to do.
The dead faces were against his own. Their breath washed over him, suffocating him with rot. He was beyond remembering that he didn't need to breathe.
But he did remember what came next. He always did.
His mind fled. He screamed. It was a new sound, a great magnitude louder than before. It was not the scream of a lord or master or god. It was an animal's scream when it knows of an unspeakable thing and is joined to that thing forever, without end, without escape.
Dead lips touched the skin on his face. Cold teeth would touch next.
Estelle and Amanda had missed dinner ages ago.
With sightless, hungry eyes, they again began to eat.
Nocturne
The black skies contained no moon this night, and apparently the stars had fled as well. Richemulot was blanketed in the darkness of midnight, except for the candlelight the citizenry provided themselves. But since most of the good citizens had retired for the night, even the candlelight was feeble, and it could be spotted only here and there throughout the town of St. Ronges.
No candle burned in the home of Klaus Nellak. He had retired hours earlier; after all, his duties as burgomeister of St. Ronges required much devotion and even more energy. His day had begun at sunrise, and he had worked hard and long until well past the dinner hour. He had debated with members of the town council, made judgments on several important civic matters, dealt severely with a couple of chronic troublemakers, and, most importantly — at least to him — raised his salary for the next year. The two bottles of wine he had consumed at dinner might have had some small effect on his retiring early, too.
He slept soundly, but some slight vibration, some minor deviation from the normal calm of his room, caused him to open his eyes for a moment, and he stared into the almost complete darkness. He felt a weight upon his chest, as if someone were pressing a hand against his heart. Bah! he thought: perhaps the physicians were correct after all. Perhaps I should not drink so much. Perhaps the wine — and the tremendous stress of his civic duties — were taking their toll on his heart. Perhaps. .
The weight shifted on his chest. Had he not been half asleep at this moment, he would have sworn that the weight walked from one side of his chest to the other! He put his hand on his chest, expecting to feel his heart beating, but instead felt. . fur, and then a stinging pain in his thumb. Something bit him! He cried out, and his cry was answered with a throaty squeak. Then the weight leapt from his chest.
The burgomeister sat upright, lit a candle, and surveyed the room. In the far corner, two illuminated eyes gazed defiantly at him. His own eyes adjusted to the light, and he realized the source of the weight, the stinging pain, and the squeak: it was a rather large, mangy rat. The creature squeaked again and dashed out of the room.
"Hell's Bells!" Klaus Nellak exclaimed loudly. "Those damnable creatures! Now they've invaded my home! I'll put a stop to this. . "He yawned, closed his door and window, blew out the candle, and got back into bed. He pulled the blanket up around his neck and continued his thought: ". . tomorrow."
The next morning, the St. Ronges town council was called in for an emergency meeting. The members muttered to each other, wondering what the source of the emergency could be.
"Perhaps His Lordship, the noble Claude Renier, has asked for an accounting of the town's funds," suggested one member. "God help the burgomeister if Richemulot determines the amount spent on his food and spirits!"
The rest of the council laughed, until a door opened and the burgomeister took his seat.
"And what is the source of this merriment, gentlemen? Klaus asked, reproach in his tone of voice. "There is little to be jolly about."
"And why is that?" asked the councilman who had caused the laughter.
"Vermin!" said Klaus.
Another councilman frowned. "Good sir, there is no need to refer to us in that manner!"
"No, no," Klaus corrected. "Vermin, gentlemen! Specifically, rats. They are everywhere. They have overrun this town. One of those diseased, hideous rodents bit me on the hand in my own bed last evening. "To confirm his statement, the burgomeister held up his bandaged thumb.
A councilman nodded in agreement and said," You are correct, sir. I have heard the beasts in my own abode. I haven't had the courage to visit my own wine cellar in weeks. I believe there are scores of them hidden down there."
"But there have always been rats in St. Ronges," stated another civic leader. "Rats exist everywhere. They are impossible to control, impossible to eradicate. We might as well hope to do something about insects."
Klaus weighed the councilman's words, cupped his chin in his hand, and muttered," Perhaps."
Loud words from the rear of the chamber answered him: "Perhaps not."
The entire council turned to see the man who uttered these words. He was tall and handsome, resplendently dressed, and exceedingly arrogant in demeanor.
"Who the devil are you?" the burgomeister demanded.
"I, good sirs," the man answered," am simply a wandering tradesman. My trade is the extermination of pests. It is the trade my family is renowned for. I am a piper of Hamelyn. "In his hand was a crude wooden flute.
The rat sat on her lap and squeaked continuously. Jacqueline Renier found the rodent's tale so amusing she bellowed with laughter. The rat, too, squealed with delight. When she was able to compose hersel
f, she said," That was a very amusing story, my friend. I hope your bite causes the burgomeister's thumb to swell as large as his opinion of himself."
The rat leapt from her lap, ran around in a small circle, and squealed once more.
Jacqueline pondered for a moment, then said," Yes, I think I will go to town, but not with you, my little friend. I shall remain in my present form. My grandfather will arrive in St. Ronges within the hour. He plans a surprise visit to that odious burgomeister and his council of cretins. I want to hear all about it from him."
The beautiful young woman stood up and smoothed the wrinkles that had formed in her gown. Then she headed for the city square. "Go, my friend, go dine on more of the burgomeister's menu of cheeses. . unless you prefer his appendages, that is!"
The rat bolted into a sewer as she headed off, amused at her own wicked sense of humor.
"Permit me to understand you correctly," Klaus said. "You are stating that you are the famed Piper of Hamelyn?"
The council members snickered, and one said," And I am Lloth, Queen of the Spiders. "The comment drew laughter from his colleagues.
"No, sir," the piper corrected. "You are merely a presumptuous boor."
Flustered, the insulted councilman turned to Klaus. "We must throw the scoundrel out, sir. How dare this rogue insult a member of the council!"
"Oh, settle down, Werner!" the burgomeister said in response. Then he turned to the piper. "Speak. Do you claim to be the Piper of Hamelyn?"
The man smiled. "I claim to be — and in fact I am — a piper of Hamelyn, blessed with the same abilities as my brethren. Like them, I possess the knowledge of magical airs and hypnotic ditties, which I am wondrously able to perform on this instrument."
Interested, Klaus asked. "So there are many pipers about? "
"Only a very few with the talent of enchantment."
"And how is it that you arrive here in St. Ronges at this particular time, when we are indeed in need of an expert exterminator of filthy rodents?"
The piper stepped toward the council. "Perhaps we should attribute it to a fortunate turn of the Wheel of Fortune, good sirs. For you and for me."
The burgomeister and the councilmen whispered among themselves while the piper relaxed and gazed around the council chamber, noticing the marvelous carpentry of the furniture, the beautifully detailed if garish design of the stained glass windows, and the finely crafted goblets the men were drinking from.
But the piper grew impatient with the men. "Sirs, if you do not wish my services, you merely have to inform me of that fact. There are, I am quite certain, many burgs not very far away that would gladly welcome me." He let his pipe slip into a small leather compartment on his belt. "But it is a shame. I assure you I could have rid you of every single rat within a ten-mile radius of this town square. My talent is infallible, my musical charms quite overwhelming."
"You are a braggart, young man," Klaus retorted. He turned briefly to the council members, then faced the piper again. "But no one hates rodents more than I. I want to see them gone. They have given the town of St. Ronges an air of decrepitude that I don't want it to have. Particularly since His Lordship of Richemulot, the noble Claude Renier, will be visiting us anon."
"Perhaps a demonstration of my musical prowess will help you decide whether to employ me or not," the piper suggested.
The burgomeister scanned the faces of the council members. They all seemed interested. "Yes. I think that is an excellent suggestion. Councilman Dragova mentioned the rats in his wine cellar before. Why don't we go there and put your alleged powers to the test?"
The piper bowed flamboyantly. "I am at your service."
Klaus and his council stood up, and they and the piper headed out the door. But two guards, both heavily armed, blocked their path.
"What is the meaning of this?" Klaus demanded angrily.
The guards separated, and Claude Renier stepped between them.
"I am," Renier said, smiling. "My itinerary has changed, Klaus, my friend. I trust my early arrival will not inconvenience you?"
Nervously, Klaus answered," Er. . no, Your Lordship."
"You and your fellows seem headed on an important mission," Renier continued. "I would love to accompany you. So rarely do I get to see one of my town councils in action. What is the nature of your mission?"
Klaus tugged at his collar in order to loosen it and wondered how to explain where they were headed. "I'm afraid it's rather mundane, milord."
"Speak, man!"
"If I may be so bold, Your Lordship," the piper interjected. "The citizens of this good town are having a rodent problem. I was about to demonstrate my technique of extermination."
His Lordship smiled. "Oh. Rats, eh? And this is a major problem, is it Klaus? "
"I'm afraid it is. They will take over if we do nothing."
"Will they?" Renier laughed. "Will a rat rule Richemulot someday? Who knows? In any event, I would very much like to see this young man's demonstration, so I will accompany you. Please, lead on."
"A-As you order, Y-Your Lordship," Klaus stuttered, and the group of men set off toward Councilman Dragova's home.
As they walked through the streets, a beautiful young woman, unseen by the group, wondered where her grandfather, the Lord of Richemulot, might be headed with such a sorry group of men. She resolved that she would follow them, but would do so in secret.
All of the men, including Claude Renier, assembled at one end of Dragova's rather extensive wine cellar. Lighting yet another candle, Dragova himself pointed at several partially emptied bottles of port and cried," Look. The foul beasts have eaten through the corks, damn them. "
Then, unnoticed by everyone except Lord Renier, a white mist seeped into the room and moved behind several casks of amontillado at the far corner of the cellar.
"What in heaven's name is that foul odor?" the burgomeister said. "Do you keep sewage down here, too, Dragova?"
The odor faded, the mist dissipated, and, unseen by all but the Lord of Richemulot, a female human form materialized behind the distant casks. Lord Renier concealed a smile when he realized it was his granddaughter Jacqueline.
"It is time, gentlemen," the piper said. He turned to Renier. "With your permission, Sire?"
Renier nodded as the piper stepped to the center of the cold cellar and began to play. Soon, the melody of his pipe was accompanied by the squealing of still-hidden rodents. Suddenly, he stopped for a moment. "Mister Dragova, please be so good as to bring me some oil."
Dragova grabbed a container and put it down by the piper's feet. "Here."
The piper resumed his playing, and although the men found the tune quite irritating and repetitious, rats began to crawl out of all corners of the cellar and assembled practically at his feet. Klaus and the councilmen were pleased at the sight; Lord Renier watched unemotionally; and Jacqueline, still hidden, frowned.
The musician continued to play with one hand as he squatted and, with his other hand, opened the container of oil and poured it on and around the seemingly intoxicated rodents. Then he took a lit candle and dropped it in the center of the group of rats. The flame encircled them, trapped them, burned them, but the piper's song was powerful enough to keep them from running away.
Their fur, their flesh, burned, and the cellar became filled with the horrible odor of living flesh being burnt from its bones and the terrifying sound of hundreds of squealing, choking creatures.
The men covered their mouths with handkerchiefs; Jacqueline Renier, too, covered her mouth, but it was to suppress a cry of pity and anger. For among the creatures who were painfully dying were several of her friends, including the rat who had bitten the burgomeister.
The flames themselves died a bit, and through them Jacqueline saw the charred, ashy remnants of the rodents. The sight was too much for her. Her human form faded and within seconds the white mist she had become blew out of the cellar, out of Dragova's house, out into the street.
An hour later, Jacqueline Reni
er sat by the shore of the river. She tossed stones into the water and watched them splash. A figure sat down beside her and kissed her on the cheek.
"My darling girl, it is so good to see you," Claude Renier said. "Actually, I saw you before. . at that fool's house."
She kissed her grandfather's hand. "It is good to see you, too. But I must admit I was puzzled by your presence there. That. . musician's magic is quite amazing.
It is repulsive and, I might add, dangerous. Suppose I had been in rat form. Would I have fallen under the spell? "
"That is difficult to know, my dear. But clearly this piper is a potential danger to you and others in our community. Would you like to take care of this matter, my dear, or would you prefer I handle it?"
Jacqueline wasted no time answering. "Grandfather, I would like your permission to give this piper a demonstration of my own magic."
Claude looked in her eyes and saw the true meaning of her words: her demonstration would rid Richemulot of the piper forever. "Very well," he said. "But allow me to pass on this information to you. After you left, Burgomeister Nellak gave the piper a thousand gold coins in advance for his services. The piper will come here — to this river — tonight at midnight, and he has promised that every rat in the community will be drawn here by his song. He further promised that, under his spell, all of them will then march into the river and drown. Perhaps you might want to visit with him prior to that. "
Jacqueline kissed her grandsire's hand again. "Thank you. I will waste no time preparing for the piper's. .surprise."
Claude Renier stood up. "I must go, my darling girl. You must come see me more often."
"I shall," she promised, standing up next to him. He nodded and winked his eye; then he mounted the horse his two guards held steady for him, and they were off.
Jacqueline turned back toward the river. She shook her head and said," Only one creature will suffer tonight!"
Gauzy clouds whipped by the midnight full moon like a series of ghosts. The air was chilly by the river, and the sounds of the approaching men echoed everywhere. About a hundred yards from the river, the piper raised his hand, and the burgomeister and two of the city council members halted. "You must stay here," he instructed. "I will need full concentration tonight. I must not be distracted. And certainly you won't want to be in the path of the throng of onrushing rats."
