Last Act In Palmyra

Chapter LXV

One problem we faced was that as a result of all the derision people had poured on my idea, most of the play was not even written. All writers must know that sinking feeling, when the goods are demanded in the firm expectation of a delivery you know is impossible: But by now I was so professional that the mere lack of a script left me undeterred. We wanted the drama to have speed and bite; what better than to improvise?

I soon knew that my play would not have to carry the entire evening: Thalia's travelling sideshow had caught up with us.

I first noticed something new when a lion cub appeared in our tent. He was sweet but ungainly, and so boisterous it was frightening. Investigation revealed extra waggons. One of them consisted of two large carts fixed together, on top of which loomed a massive structure shrouded in skins and sheets. 'Whatever's that?'

'Water organ.'

'You haven't got an organist!'

'You're fixing that, Falco.'

I cringed. 'Don't back that bet with money:'

Among the new arrivals were one or two seedy characters from Thalia's troupe in Rome. 'My dancing partner arrived too,' Thalia said: the famous snake she called 'the big one'.

'Where is he?'

'In charge of my keen new snakekeeper.' She sounded as if she knew something the rest of us had missed. 'Want to see?'

We followed her to a waggon on the far side of camp. The lion cub gambolled after us. 'What does keeping the snake entail?' Helena enquired politely as we walked, keeping an eye on the cub.

'Catching mice, or anything bigger, then poking them into the basket, preferably still alive. A large python needs a lot of lunch. Back in Rome, I had a gang of lads who brought rats to me. They liked to watch things being swallowed. We had some trouble once when there was a spate of lost cats in the Quirinal lanes. People wondered why their pet pussies kept disappearing: Zeno ate a baby ostrich once, but that was a mistake.'

'How can you swallow a whole ostrich by mistake?' I laughed.

'Oh it wasn't a mistake to Zeno!' Thalia grinned. Fronto was owner of the circus then. He was livid.' Fronto's menagerie had a history of creatures finding unfortunate meals. Fronto himself had become one eventually. Thalia was still reminiscing: 'Apart from losing the feathers, watching the long neck go in was the worst bit: and then we had Fronto creating. We could hardly pretend it hadn't happened, what with the lump slowly gliding head first down inside Zeno, and the legs still sticking out. And of course they don't always do this, but just to make sure Fronto couldn't forget the loss, he spat out the bits that had once been the bones.'

Helena and I were still gulping as we climbed into the waggon.

The light was dim. A large rectangular basket, worryingly knocked about and with holes in it, stood in the back of the cart. 'Bit of trouble on the journey,' Thalia commented. 'The keeper's trying to find the baby a strong new cradle:' I refrained from asking what the trouble had been, hoping the damage had resulted from ruts in the desert road rather than delinquent activity from the giant snake. Thalia lifted the lid and leaned in, affectionately stroking whatever the basket contained. We heard a sluggish rustle from deep within. 'That's my gorgeous cheeky darling: Don't worry. He's been fed. Anyway, he's far too hot. He doesn't want to move. Come and tickle him under the chin, Falco.'

We peered in, then hastily withdrew. From what we could see of the big sleepy python, he was immense. Golden coils half as thick as a human torso were looped back and forth like a huge skein of loom wool. Zeno filled the basket, which was so big it would take several men to move it. Rough calculations told me Zeno must be fifteen to twenty feet long. More than I wanted to think about, anyway.

'Phew! He must be too heavy to lift, Thalia!'

'Oh I don't lift him much! He's tame, and he likes a lot of fuss, but if you get him too excited he starts thinking he'll mate with something. I saw a snake run up a woman's skirt once. Her face was a picture!' Thalia cackled with raucous laughter. Helena and I smiled bravely.

I had been leaning on a smaller basket. Suddenly I felt movement.

'That's Pharaoh.' Thalia's smile was not encouraging. 'Don't open the basket, Falco. He's my new Egyptian cobra. I haven't tamed him yet.'

The basket jerked again and I sprang back.

'Good gods, Thalia! What do you want a cobra for? I thought they were deadly venomous?'

'Oh yes,' she replied offhandedly. 'I want to liven up my stage act – but he'll be a challenge!'

'However do you manage to dance with him safely?' Helena demanded.

'I'm not using him yet!' Even Thalia showed some wariness. 'I'll have to think about it on the way home to Rome. He's gorgeous,' she exclaimed admiringly. 'But you don't exactly say "Come to Mother!" and pick up a cobra for a cuddle: Some operators cut out their fangs, or even sew their mouths up, which means the poor darlings starve to death, of course. I haven't decided whether I'll milk his venom before a performance, or just use the easy method.'

Full of foreboding, I felt obliged to ask: 'What's the easy method?'

Thalia grinned. 'Oh, just dancing out of range!'

Glad to escape, we jumped down from the waggon and came face to face with the 'keen new snakekeeper'. He had his sleeves rolled up and was dragging along one of the company costume trunks, presumably intended as the big python's new bed. The lion cub rushed up to him, and he rolled it over to scratch its stomach. It was Musa. Knowing Thalia, I had half expected it.

Musa looked unexpectedly competent as he dodged the big flailing paws, and the cub was ecstatic.

I grinned. 'Surely the last time I saw you, you were a priest? Now you're an expert zookeeper!'

'Lions and snakes arc symbolic,' he answered calmly, as if he was thinking of starting a menagerie on the Petra High Place. I did not ask about him leaving us. I saw him glance diffidently at Helena, as if ensuring she was making a good recovery. She still looked pale. I slung an arm around her. I was not forgetting how serious her illness had been. Maybe I wanted to let it be known that any cosseting she needed would come from me.

Musa seemed rather withdrawn, though not upset. He stepped up to the waggon where the snakes were kept and lifted something from a peg in the dark interior. 'Look what I found waiting for me at a temple here, Falco.' He was showing me a hat. 'There is a letter from Shullay, but I have not read it yet.'

The hat was a wide-brimmed, round-crowned, Greek-looking number, the sort you see on statues of Hermes. I sucked air through my teeth. 'That's a traveller's headgear. Have you seen it before – travelling very fast downhill?'

'Oh yes. I think it was on a murderer that day.'

It did not seem the moment to tell Musa that according to Grumio he was the murderer himself. Instead I amused myself remembering Grumio's absurd theory that Musa was some high-powered political agent, sent out by The Brother on a mission to destroy.

Musa applied his contract killer's skills to clearing up a pile of lion dung.

Helena and Thalia set off back to our tent. I dallied behind. Musa, who had been grappled by the cub again, looked up long enough to meet my eyes.

'Helena has recovered, but she was very sick. Sending Thalia with her mithridatium helped a lot. Thanks, Musa.'

He disentangled himself from the fluffy, overactive little lion. He seemed quieter than I had been dreading, though he started to say, 'I want to explain – '

'Never explain, Musa. I hope you'll dine with us tonight. Maybe you'll have good news from Shullay to tell me.' I clapped his shoulder as I turned to follow the others. 'I'm sorry. Thalia's an old friend. We let her have your section of the tent.'

I knew that nothing had ever happened between him and Helena, but I was not stupid. I didn't mind how much he cared about her, so long as he honoured the rules. The first rule was, I did not expose Helena by letting other men who hankered after her live in our house. 'Nothing personal,' I added cheerily. 'But I don't care for some of your pets!'

Musa shrugged, smiling in return as he accepted it. 'I am the snakekeeper. I have to stay with Zeno.'

I took two strides, then turned back to him. 'We missed you. Welcome back, Musa.'

I meant that.

Returning to Helena I happened to pass Byrria. I told her I had been to see the big python, recommended the experience, and said I was sure the keeper would be pleased to show her his menagerie. Well, you have to try.