When he had secured the “specimen” rats, he walked to the point in town farthest from the river. He left his cart in the care of the original messenger and began playing a complicated tune on the pipe. The townsfolk within range quieted to listen.
Piping the music that was necessary to take over an active illusion and change its directive was far more difficult than setting it up. In the beginning, As’ad’s attempts had been utter failures. Had he made the mistake of trying it in front of an audience first, this con would never have been successful. It took him weeks to ensure he could blend the two enchantments seamlessly every single time.
After establishing the initial parameters, As’ad began walking in the general direction of the river. He moved slowly in order to collect each of the fake rats. The notes that he played while gathering the rodents didn’t matter very much. He tended to repeat the same refrain while moving because it took less concentration and wasn’t needed to add to or change the enchantment in any way. Once he had the full parade of rats following him, he led them to the riverbank.
Standing to the side, he amended the tune to send every one into the water. As the illusions were unable to interact with their environment, he also had to create and manipulate the appearance of agitated water. As’ad had deliberately chosen a place downstream from town. This ensured that the people believed the drowned rats were washed away from their drinking water.
Some of the townsfolk, including the suspicious young lady and a substantial number of the children, followed him to the river. That wasn’t a problem. Nor would it normally bother him to have the complete attention of a beautiful girl, if she hadn’t been glaring at him the whole time.
As he continued playing and watching the stream of rats fling themselves heedlessly into the river, he spared a moment to be grateful that this town wasn’t situated on an oasis. A confined water source surrounded by desert made it difficult to use as a disposal method. The residents were always rightly concerned about contamination, and As’ad sometimes had to convince them to create a bonfire of sufficient size. In one fortunate instance, the oasis town had contained two bodies of water. Some quick thinking had enabled him to send the rats into the smaller one, where he then had the inhabitants pour an oil slick and set it on fire. It was an impressive display that went a long way toward persuading everyone that the remains had been burnt beyond the chance of rot.
Today’s extermination was a simple affair, by all accounts. He played until no more rats appeared from the town, then continued for a few minutes longer, slowly diminishing the splashes. He checked with the young adults who had been tasked with scouring the area to confirm no rats remained behind. When the all-clear was given, he finally left the riverbank.
As expected, the grateful town wanted to fete their savior. While the preparations were taking place, the Pied Piper performed his duties and interrogated people from every quadrant of town. Asking the same questions over and over again was dull but quite possibly the most important part of his con. During this portion, he scribbled incomprehensible notes in his little book and made sure to drop useless hints about what he had learned from his investigations so far. The process had become rather mechanical for him. The observant girl who wasn’t afraid to ask questions always seemed to be lurking in the background, though, and it was beginning to put him off his game.
When pressed, he revealed his intention to continue working his way west. With few anomalies, the rat phenomenon seemed to be heading that way after scourging the north. Naturally, he neglected to mention that he occasionally skipped a town in that logical progression so as not to make his involvement quite so obvious. He did assure the mayor, when asked, that he would definitely stop in Jabal, the town right before the mountain pass leading to Bavenpier. Since they were on friendly terms, it was only right that the neighboring country be warned.
That night, As’ad endured the feast. He danced with whomever asked, though his heart wasn’t in it. Several of the ladies were uncommonly pretty and eager to make his acquaintance, but none of them held his interest. The question of whether or not he would accept a dance with the skeptical young woman never came up, and As’ad had to tell himself that it was exhaustion, not disappointment, that nipped at his heels. Fortunately, he was able to plead fatigue early on. While the magic he performed had exacted a physical toll, as usual, today’s weariness seemed to have settled into his soul rather than his limbs.
The innkeeper who had claimed the privilege of hosting the Pied Piper assured As’ad that the handcart and all his belongings would be perfectly safe in the stableyard. He was quite willing to assign a stablehand to guard it and the “specimens” overnight when As’ad asked.
Confident that Khudha and the rest would be safe until morning, the exhausted con artist collapsed onto the soft bed in the inn’s finest room, barely remembering to kick his boots off first.
In the morning, As’ad fed his pets in a clinical manner, aware of the audience that watched his every move. After breakfast, the mayor and town treasurer appeared at the inn with his fee. The pair may have been attempting a private audience, but a crowd had been forming for hours. Several folks suggested writing to the sultan about recent events. As’ad assured them that he sent in regular reports to that royal. In doing so, he also managed to insinuate that their distant sovereign was not overly concerned because the plague of rats had not affected enough people yet, or him personally. And since As’ad had been able to take care of it on his own thus far, why send out more resources when he didn’t have to? Everyone accepted this, certain in the knowledge that the sultan would not exert himself until the problem inconvenienced his royal person. They thanked the piper again for being so personally invested in the lives of the oft-neglected farmers and finally sent him on his way.
Escaping the town fully took thrice as long as it should have because multiple people stopped him to bestow gifts of gratitude in the form of food and supplies. He accepted them graciously and hid his growing discomfort as they repeated their appreciation for his willingness to help the rural communities. Eventually, he was finally on the road for real and could no longer see the town.
As he walked, he reviewed the last couple days. Overall, the con had run as smoothly as he expected. The questions, comments, and concerns hadn’t noticeably deviated from the script that had been developing over the past several months. No deviations if he ignored that pretty girl’s question about rat poop, anyway.
Realizing that he hadn’t seen her at all that morning, he checked over his shoulder. He should be pleased that he had been able to leave without suffering through more of her questions or glares. Instead, he found himself, inexplicably, ill at ease. He walked for another hour before the feeling faded and he felt safe checking on his sleeping pets.
That night, As’ad made camp in a pleasant little hollow. The rocks and sand still outnumbered the green bits, but there were signs that he was nearing the transition to full jungle. A few of the more generous souls had bestowed fresh meat and other perishable goods on him. He really had no choice but to cook and eat them now.
“The things I suffer,” he said to his rats as he prepared the meal.
Sometime later, he flipped back the canvas covering the cages. “Who’s a pretty rat?”
He had just taken Khudha out of her cage, ready to coo over her performance, when a distinctly feminine voice shouted, “Ah-ha!”
Chapter Three
Which Features a Fiery Female
As’adlookeduptosee the owner of the voice stalking into his firelight. It was the girl from Nahr. Of course it was.
“May I help you?” he asked quite calmly, despite knowing how bad it looked. His heart responded to the perceived threat by pumping more blood to his limbs. His fingers twitched, and Khudha squeaked in response.
In spite of her anger, or perhaps because of it, As’ad was struck by the thought that he had never perceived such a wild and beautiful young woman. His wits were not addled to the point that he thought saying so would help him escape the situation. Alive.
“Iknewthere was something off about you.” The girl stood with both hands on her hips and leaned forward. “Those were your rats all along!”
As’ad’s brain threatened to panic, but years of practicing deceit as a means of survival kicked in. “Why do you say that?”
His refusal to react in a flustered manner frustrated his challenger.
“You were just baby-talking that rat!”
“So?”
