Tales of Ravenloft

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 herself, 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 Renier 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."

The burgomeister's face registered disgust. "I should say not!"

"Very well," the piper continued, drawing his flute from his belt," then I shall proceed with my task. "He took a couple of steps toward the river, but stopped and turned his head back to the town leaders. "And I shall expect the other thousand gold coins when I am finished."

"Indeed," Klaus Nellak snapped nastily. "Be careful where you step. There are some dangerous bogs along the river banks."

The piper laughed and made his way to the river. He gazed up at the moon and thought how perfect the bright moonlight would be for allowing his employers to see all that happened. He looked about him; all was still; all was quiet.

He began to play. The melody this time was mellifluous and quite catchy; the men from the town found themselves tapping their toes to it — until they saw the first few rats scurry by. The piper's tune continued with little deviation, only slight variations. Within minutes, thousands of rats lined up near him, completely still and completely silent, staring straight ahead.

The piper's lips curled into as much of a smile as he could allow without hindering his performance.

Suddenly, the piper seemed engulfed in a mist that blew around him and slowly passed him. It smelled horrible, and he coughed several times. His tune was momentarily halted, but when the mist passed him, and he noticed the rats twitching and beginning to scatter, he resumed his tune. Again, the rats stood silent and faced the river.

Then a crisp but husky, alluring voice called out to him: "Your music is magical."

The piper turned his head to the left and saw a woman standing a few feet from the river's edge. She was radiant. She wore a white gown that hung low over her shoulders, nearly touched her feet, and gave her the appearance of hovering over the ground, not merely standing upon it.

"Are you a stranger in these parts?" she asked softly.

The piper nodded, his eyes taking in all her beauty, his song continuing all the while.

"Then I must make you feel welcome. "Jacqueline slipped one of the straps of her gown down over her shoulder, revealing a generous sight of her cleavage. "Has it been a very long while since you had a woman?"

Again the piper nodded, blowing on his pipe while thanking the stars above for his good fortune. He smiled at her; Jacqueline recognized the lewdness in the grin and responded to it by extending her arms out to him.

Yes, she thought, come to me, you torturer! Come to me! Feel the delightful sensations I have in store for you!

The burgomeister grew nervous as he watched the piper, continuing to play his music, step toward the woman, but he dared not follow. He nudged his accomplices with his elbows and whispered," What is the fool doing? Who is that accursed woman? I cannot see her features. Is she a witch?"

The piper was within twenty feet of her, close enough that he felt hypnotized by her beauty, felt himself sinking into her seductive, twinkling eyes. Sinking into them. Into her eyes. Sinking.

Sinking!

The cold wetness that surrounded his legs halfway up his thighs awoke him. He tried to step forward, but his motion only resulted in him sinking deeper into the bog. He struggled again, and sank deeper, before he realized that struggle was useless.

Jacqueline laughed evilly, loud enough to frighten the men from the town, who tried in vain to see — through an ever-thickening fog that now obscured their vision — what was happening. She stepped toward the musician, raised her hands to her chest, and her form quickly and smoothly changed into that of a rat. She squealed, the sound every bit as loud as her human laughter. Her rat form ran lightly over the scummy top of the bog; then she bit the outstretched arm of the piper until the instrument fell from his hand. She picked it up in her teeth and scurried back to the dry land surrounding the bog.

The piper screamed, but even that much exertion caused him to sink lower. He watched as the murky wetness climbed to his chest. Then he turned, expecting to see the rat, but looking at the beautiful woman again.

"I know a magical air myself," she said mirthfully," though I am certain I lack your skill. Care to hear it?"

She expected no answer and received none. She began to play, fingering the pipe as if she were a little girl with a new toy. There was no logic to the progression of the notes, no recognizable melody. Yet the notes provided the desired effect: the rats assembled at her feet.

The piper's eyes grew wide in terror, and his muscles contracted, causing him to sink to his shoulders in the clammy bog.

Jacqueline's improvisation changed slightly; higher notes emanated from the pipe now. The rats turned toward the piper. Then several hundred of them dashed into the bog. They swam, crawled, even fought each other in their overwhelming desire to find an unprotected part of the piper's hands, neck, head, and face to rip into with their razor-sharp incisors.

He screamed until his lungs could scream no more as the flesh was torn from him in tiny pieces. In his last moments of consciousness, he prayed he would mercifully sink, quickly and completely, into the bog.

Jacqueline turned to revel in the reactions of the men from the town, but in this she was cheated. They were already gone, having fled when the piper's screams ripped through the fog, and were in all likelihood already shivering in fear in their beds.

The next morning, in the relative safety of bright daylight, surrounded by guards, Burgomeister Nellak made his way to the bog to search f o r. . something. He did not really expect to find the mysterious woman — a wererat — but perhaps he would find. . something.

What he found was a sight that sickened him every bit as much as the occurrence the night before. There in the bog, the pipe pointed straight up out of the murky liquid. One of the guards reached over and attempted to pull it out, but it seemed stuck. The guard positioned himself better and pulled again with all his strength.

The burgomeister nearly retched when he realized the instrument was wedged between the clenched teeth of what was left of the piper's face.

He backed away from the grisly sight, and the guard let go. Suddenly, the air was fouled by an offensive, loathsome odor, and the vision of all those present was blurred for a few seconds by a flowing white mist. The odor passed quickly; yet the mist hovered over the river within a few yards of them.

Then a swarm of large rats charged up the riverbank toward the men. Horrified, they ran back toward town, the sound of loud, formidable, evil, female laughter echoing through their very souls.