Lindsey Davis - Last Act In Palmyra

'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Musa seemed rather withdrawn, though not upset.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.

That night I was sitting outside our tent with Helena and Thalia, waiting for Musa to turn up for dinner. We were approached by Chremes and Davos, together with the long, gawky figure of Phrygia, apparently on their way to dine at one of their own tents. Chremes stopped for a discussion with me about an unresolved problem with my play. As we talked, with me paying as little attention as possible to the manager's fussing, I overheard Phrygia muttering to Thalia: 'Don't I know you from somewhere?'

Thalia laughed gruffly. 'I wondered when you would ask!'

I noticed that Helena applied herself to a tactful chat with Davos.

Phrygia looked tense. 'Somewhere in Italy? Or was it Greece?'

'Try Tegea,' stated Thalia. She had on her sardonic look again.

Then Phrygia gasped as if she had been poked in the side with a spindle. 'I need to talk to you!'

'Well I'll try and fit you in some time,' Thalia promised unconvincingly. 'I have to rehearse my snake dance.' I happened to know she claimed never to rehearse her dance, partly because of the danger it entailed. 'And the acrobats need a lot of supervision…'

'This is cruelty!' murmured Phrygia.

'No,' said Thalia in a tone that meant to be heeded. 'You made your decision. If you've suddenly decided to change your mind after all these years, the other party deserves some warning. Don't push me! Maybe I'll introduce you after the play…'

Chremes had given up trying to interest me in his troubles. Looking frustrated, Phrygia felt silent and allowed her husband to lead her away.

I was not the only one who had overheard the intriguing snatch of conversation. Davos found some excuse to dally behind, and I heard him say to Thalia, 'I remember Tegea!' I felt Helena kick my ankle, and obediently joined her in pretending to be very busy laying out our meal. As usual Davos was being blunt. 'She wants to find the baby.'

'So I gathered,' Thalia returned rather drily, tipping her head back and giving him a challenging stare. 'A bit late! Actually, it's not a baby any more.'

'What happened?' Davos asked.

'When people give me unwanted creatures, I generally bring them up.'

'It lived then?'

'She was alive the last time I saw her.' As Thalia informed Davos, Helena glanced at me. So Phrygia's baby had been a girl. I suppose we had both already worked that out.

'So she's grown up now?'

'A promising little artiste,' Thalia said grittily. That too was no surprise to some of us.

Seeming satisfied, Davos grunted, then went on his way after Chremes and Phrygia.

'So! What happened at Tegea?' I tackled our companion innocently when the coast was clear. Thalia would probably have said that men are never innocent.

She shrugged, pretending indifference. 'Not a lot. It's a tiny Greek town, just a blot on the Peloponnese.'

'When were you there?'

'Oh… how about twenty years ago?'

'Really?' We both knew exactly where the conversation was leading. 'Would that have been about the time our stage manager's wife missed her famous chance to play Medea at Epidaurus?'