The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents

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 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 or 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 offence 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,” said the mayor. “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. “OK, then,” he said.

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

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

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

“No, I 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?” said 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 mo to nip and get it.”

The rat piper burst out laughing.

“Doesn't that count?” said 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 mean, I've never played one. I'd be a lot happier with a flute, trumpet, piccolo 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.

The watchman 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, pressed the keys 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 “hwunftwothreefour” under his breath. The crowd 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 said.

“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-wool in 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 into the drainpipe. “Everyone block their ears!”

They'd done their best with the rat 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-wool. “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 run.”

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

“Just one rat,” said Keith. “Any rat you like.”

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 helpfully.

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.