Chapter 11 - The Tale
Stepping out of the inn and into the cobbled street, Jake breathed in deeply at the warm night's air and took in the unfamiliar streetscape. He found himself at the junction of two main streets and the town square, each street lined with stone buildings that housed a medley of tradesmen, bakeries, and taverns. Although the building facades of these establishments all boasted a high quality of craftsmanship, it was difficult to ignore the fact that they had suffered some neglect as of late.
Glancing from one street to another, Jacob realized that he had absolutely no notion which direction he ought to be heading. Not wanting to get lost and suffer his brother's wrath, or merciless teasing, the younger Grimm turned towards the inn's stables. Eying a forlorn bench lit by the flickering glow of streetlamps, Jake decided that this was the safest place to wait.
Settling down into the rather unforgiving seat and prepared for a long wait, Jacob pulled out his leather-bound journal and began looking over his notes. As the night dragged on, Jake found himself reduced to doodling in the book's margins, completely absorbed in his thoughts on their mysterious predicament.
"You know," A soft voice murmured in his ear, the unexpected breath warm across his cheek, "All of that, it's wrong."
The quiet voice jerked Jacob out of his thoughts and he gave a startled yelp as he leapt up from the bench. His legs abandoning him entirely to the fuzzy feeling of pins and needles, Jake found himself landing heavily on the seat of his pants.
"Mein Herr, are you alright?" The soft voice, which Jake quickly realized belonged to Stille, questioned hesitantly.
"Ah, perfectly fine. Nothing of importance bruised, except perhaps my dignity," The younger Grimm replied with a groan as he stiffly pulled himself back onto the bench. "Before scaring me to death, what did you say?" He wondered with a small grin, turning to face the youth.
"Oh. Well, it's just that," Stille replied, gesturing to the now dusty journal. "You got some of it wrong."
"I got it wrong?" Jacob repeated uncertainly, gently dusting off the book's cover before flipping to the most recent pages. "I don't see how I could have made any errors. I copied this word for word from what was said at the town meeting… Oh." He realized, finally grasping the younger man's meaning as he looked from his journal's pages to the rather unimpressed expression on Stille's face. "Yes, it is wrong, isn't it?"
Nodding in affirmation, the adolescent continued. "This, and this, and certainly this are wrong." He explained, dragging his finger lightly along certain scrawled passages on the page. Leaning against the back of the bench and peering over Jacob's shoulder intently, he continued. "The piper wasn't dressed in colorful clothes, not from what I saw. He was dressed in a beautiful black jacket, and his hair was a very strange silver," He added while Jacob scribbled down the description as quickly as he could.
"Secondly," The young man continued with a long sigh, "The whole town saw him, they just didn't want to tell you why." As Stille talked, pausing often enough for Jacob to scribe, the real story fell into place across the pages.
"You see," Stille began, "Hameln has been a rich town for some while and everyone was benefiting from its prosperity. But one day, we started finding rats," He explained, spitting the word as if it were a curse. "No one thought anything of it, the townspeople just brought in more cats. Then we started finding the cats dead, bitten to death by the vermin. At this, the town began to worry, and we called in exterminator after exterminator. Each one gave us the same response; they said that this town was cursed." He continued, "We'd become desperate and had exhausted nearly every option, so when this odd fellow came into town and told the Mayor he could help, he accepted."
With a sigh, the youth shook his head and continued, "My dear older brother Lukas, the Mayor, told me the amount the stranger asked for was outrageous, but he accepted the offer regardless." Moving to sit down on the bench, the young man continued, "I wager my brother figured that the stranger wouldn't succeed since all the others had failed. But, as you've probably guessed, the Piper did succeed. And when my brother failed to make good on his word, the man fetched the payment himself, although it wasn't exactly what we had in mind," He finished dryly.
"Oh, my." Jacob stated, unable to hide his shock as he re-read the last few lines he'd scribbled down. "Well, now it makes some sense," He concluded, although there was still one last nagging question in his mind.
"Stille, how old are you?" He asked abruptly.
"Me?" The young man replied cautiously, "Almost thirteen. Why do you ask?"
"Well then why weren't you, you know, taken as well?" Jacob trailed off.
"Oh. That." Stille replied with a snort, "To quote my lovely sister, I'm deaf as a post."
"I hadn't noticed," Jacob said, his voice tinged with awe at how skillfully the young man had adapted to his hearing loss.
"I suppose I can read lips quite well," Stille admitted, allowing himself a proud smirk, "You know, Jacob, I've come to find that there's always a difference between what people say, and what they mean." He said knowingly, using the thoughtful silence that followed to take his leave.
Trying to ignore the cold lump that had settled in the pit of his stomach, Jacob wasted no time in gathering his pen and journal, and heading back towards the inn.
Author's Note: Thank you for reading. This is the updated version of Chapter 11, uploaded on 02/2023.