When they arrived in the town square, out of breath, the piper was sitting on a bench, surrounded at a safe distance by a very large crowd. He was examining half a sausage on the end of a fork. Corporal Knopf was standing next to him like a schoolboy who has just turned in a nasty piece of work and is waiting to be told exactly how bad it is. '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 towards 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 towards 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… travelling costs at a dollar a mile… miscellaneous expenses, taxes, charges…' He looked up. 'Tell you what, let's say one thousand dollars, OK?'
'One thousand dollars! We haven't got one thousand dollars! That's outrag-'
'Badger, sir!' hissed Sergeant Doppelpunkt. 'You can't pay?' said 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 and sixty-seven dollars and nineteen pence 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? Bit of what they call a imp arse, 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. '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. 'Do 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 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