Ancient World 02 - Raiders of the Nile by Steven Saylor Read Free Book Online

“From what I’ve seen, your work is far too dangerous.”
    “Dangerous?” said Melmak.
    “I was there today, in the audience. I could have been killed—and you lot might have been arrested and thrown in a dungeon, for ridiculing the king. For all I know, some of you were arrested.”
    “No, we’re all here,” said Melmak.
    “Only eight, in the whole troupe? Surely there must be more. How could only eight of you perform so many parts?”
    “Makeup, costumes, props, and padding.”
    I looked from face to face. Besides Melmak and Axiothea and the two boys, there were four men, all of average size and a bit older than I. “But which of you played the fat merchant?”
    “That was me, of course.” Melmak beamed.
    “Not possible! I realize the merchant’s costume was padded, but he had a fat face. And his voice was completely different from yours.”
    “It’s called acting, my good fellow. I know that Rome is a backwater when it comes to the theater, but—”
    “And there was an acrobat who’s not here. The muscular man in a nemes headdress who juggled before the show.”
    “Me again!” said Melmak. He made a fist and drew it to his forehead, then pulled back the long, loose sleeve of his tunic to show off his biceps. “As you can see, the muscles are real, and not a costume. We all take on many parts. At present, Axiothea is the only female in the troupe, so some of us men play the occasional matron.”
    “The old whore in the first skit—that was Axiothea?”
    “Yes. We’ve tried it with a man, but it’s not as funny.”
    “Very impressive,” I said, amazed that so few could play so many.
    “Ha! Acting, he calls it!” One of the men stepped forward. In some ways he was the most striking member of the company, for although his physique was ordinary and his features nondescript, his dark, longish hair and neatly trimmed beard were bisected from front to back by a stripe of white. Such a marking would have seemed more likely on a furry animal than on a man, but the curious coloration appeared to be natural. “My name is Lykos, and I am not an actor. And no matter how fervently Melmak and the others may think that their thespian talents create the illusions of the mime show, it’s I who do most of the work in that department.”
    Melmak begrudged the man a smile. “Lykos is our artificer, and I suppose he does deserve some credit.”
    “ Some credit? Well, that’s more than I usually get.”
    “Artificer?” I said.
    “Lykos makes the costumes and wigs,” said Axiothea.
    “Costumes and wigs? Is that all I am, a glorified seamstress and wig-master?” Lykos snorted. “I design and create the props. I oversee the makeup. It’s I who make Melmak as fat as the king, I who can make even Axiothea old and ugly. The artificer, not the actors, is the true master of theatrical illusion, the miracle worker of the mimes!”
    I cleared my throat. “Well, it’s certainly a miracle that you all got away from those soldiers.”
    “No gods or magic were involved,” said Melmak. “Just careful planning and quick reflexes. We’ve worked out a system for making fast getaways. Emergency change of scene, I call it. It hasn’t failed us yet.”
    “But one of these days, if you keep putting on shows like that, you’re bound to get into trouble. You’re tempting the Fates.”
    “We are a mime troupe, Gordianus. We must give the people what they want. And we do! We draw the largest crowds and collect the fattest purse of any troupe in the city. Oh dear, I shouldn’t have admitted that. Now you’ll want even more money for the use of your lovely slave.”
    “As I already told you, she’s not available.” I had a sudden vision of Bethesda at the mercy of a troop of royal guards, and shuddered. “Not at any price.”
    “Ah, well.” Melmak sighed and cast a wistful gaze at Bethesda. “Your master is denying you a marvelous career as an actress, my dear.”
    Axiothea laughed. “Give it a rest, Melmak!