Part 26 (1/2)

Musa smiled politely. 'Poetry I can do, Falco.'

We were lacking the floristry, but he came to the fire, sitting opposite Helena and me, which at last brought him nearer to the girl he was supposed to be entrancing, though in fact he forgot to gaze at her. He dropped to a cus.h.i.+on (conveniently placed by Helena before the meal just where it would allow things to develop if our guests had wanted that). Then Musa started to recite. It was obviously going to be a very long poem, and it was in Nabataean Arabic.

Byrria listened with the faintest of smiles and her slanting green eyes well cast down. There was not much else the poor girl could do.

Helena sat still. Musa's posture for recitation was to stare straight ahead, which meant Helena was catching most of the performance. The soft pressure of her thumb on my windpipe warned me not to interrupt. Still lying in her lap I closed my eyes and forced myself to leave our idiotic tent guest to his fate.

Sooner than I had dared to hope, Musa stopped - or at least paused long enough for me to break in without upsetting him. Rolling over and smiling at Byrria, I said quietly, 'I think a certain young lady has just been favourably compared to a soft-eyed gazelle, running free on the mountains - '

'Falco!' Musa was tutting, fortunately with a laugh in his tone. 'Are you speaking more of my language than you pretend?'

'I'm a spare-time poet and I know how to guess.'

'You're an acting playwright; you should be able to interpret well-spoken verse.' There was a hard note in Byrria's voice. 'And how are your other guesses, Falco?' Without appearing graceless, Byrria had turned the conversation. Her long earrings tinkled slightly, though whether with amus.e.m.e.nt or embarra.s.sment I could not tell. She was a girl who hid her thoughts. 'Are you any nearer identifying the person who killed Ione?'

Giving up on the priest now that I had seen his technique for seduction, I too welcomed the new subject. 'I'm still looking for Ione's unknown lover, and I'd be grateful for suggestions. With regard to the playwright, motives have suddenly started turning up as thick as barnacles on a boat bottom. The newest concerns Tranio, Grumio, and the possibility of bad gambling debts. Know anything about this?'

Byrria shook her head. She seemed very relieved that the talk had changed pace. 'No I don't, except that Heliodorus gambled in the same way he drank - hard, yet always staying in control.' Recalling it, she s.h.i.+vered slightly. Her earrings trembled, soundlessly this time, reflecting the fire in tiny fl ripples of light. If she had been a girlfriend of mine, I would have reached to caress her earlobes - and deftly removed the jewellery. 'No one bettered him.'

'Custom-made dice!' I explained. She hissed angrily at the news. 'So how do you see Heliodorus relating to the Twins, Byrria?'

'I would have thought they were a match for him.'

I could tell that she liked them. On an impulse I asked, 'Are you going to tell me which of them pulled Heliodorus off, that time he jumped on you?'

'It was Grumio.' She said it without drama.

At her side I thought Musa tensed. Byrria herself sat extremely quietly, no longer showing her anger over the bad experience. All evening, in fact, she had behaved with reserve. She seemed to be watching us, or some of us. I almost felt that she, not Musa, was the foreigner at our fireside, subjecting our strange manners to curious scrutiny.

'You refused to tell me that before,' I reminded her. 'Why now?'

'I refused to be interrogated like a criminal. But here I am with friends.' From her, that was quite a compliment.

'So what happened?'

'Just at the right moment - for me - Grumio burst in. He had come to ask Heliodorus for something. I don't know what it was about really, but Grumio pulled the brute off me and started asking him about a scroll - a play I suppose. I managed to flee. Obviously,' she said to me in a reasonable tone, 'I am hoping you are not going to tell me Grumio is your main suspect.'

'The Twins have alibis, at least for Ione's death. Grumio in particular. I saw him otherwise occupied myself. For what happened at Petra, they're vouching for each other. Of course they may be conspiring - '

Byrria looked surprised. 'Oh, I don't think they like each other that much.'

'What do you mean?' Helena picked it up at once. 'They spend a lot of time together. Is there some rivalry?'

'Plenty!' Byrria replied quickly, as though it ought to be well known. Uneasily, she added, 'Tranio really does have more flair as a comedian. But I know Grumio feels that's merely a reflection of Tranio having more showy parts in plays. Grumio is much better at standing up to improvise, entertaining a crowd, though he hasn't done it so much recently.'

'Do they fight?' Musa put in. It was the kind of blunt question I like to ask myself.

'They have occasional squabbles.' She smiled at him. Must have been an aberration. Musa found enough spirit to mock himself by basking in the favour; then Byrria seemed to blush, though she could have been overheated by the nearness of the fire. I must have been looking thoughtful. 'Does that help, Falco?'

'Not sure. It may give me a way to approach them. Thanks, Byrria.'

It was late. Tomorrow there would be more travelling as we pressed on to Canatha. Around us the rest of the camp had quietened. Many people were already asleep. Our group seemed the only active party. It was time to break up. Glancing at Helena, I abandoned the attempt to bring the reluctant pair together.

Helena yawned, making the hint refined. She began collecting dishes, Byrria helping her. Musa and I confined our efforts to manly procedures such as poking the fire and finis.h.i.+ng the olives. When Byrria thanked us for the evening, Helena apologised. 'I hope we didn't tease you too unbearably.'

'In what way?' Byrria responded drily. Then she smiled again. She was an extraordinarily beautiful young woman; the fact that she was barely twenty suddenly became more evident. She had enjoyed herself tonight; we could satisfy ourselves with that. Tonight she was as near to contentment as she might ever be. It made her look vulnerable for once. Even Musa seemed more mature, and more her equal.

'Don't mind us.' Helena spoke informally, licking sauce off her hand where she had picked up a sticky plate. 'You have to make your life as you wish. The important thing is to find and to keep real friends.' Reluctant to make too much of it, she went into the tent with the pile of dishes.

I was not prepared to let this go so easily. 'Even so, that doesn't mean she ought to be afraid of men!'

'I fear no one!' Byrria shot back, with a burst of her hot temper. It was a pa.s.sing moment; her voice dropped again. Staring at a tray she had picked up, she added, 'Maybe I just fear the consequences.'

'Very wise!' quipped Helena, reappearing in an instant. 'Think of Phrygia whose whole life has been embittered and ruined by having a baby and marrying wrongly. She lost the child, she lost her chance to develop fully as an actress, and I think maybe she also gave up the man she should really have been with all these years - '

'You give a bad example,' Musa broke in. He was terse. 'I could say, look at Falco and you!'

'Us?' I grinned. Somebody had to play the fool and lighten the conversation. 'We're just two completely unsuitable people who knew we could have no future together but liked each other enough to go to bed for a night.'

'How long ago was that?' demanded Byrria hotly. Not a girl who could take irony.

'Two years,' I confessed.

'That's your one night?' laughed Byrria. 'How carefree and cosmopolitan! And how long, Didius Falco, do you suppose this unsuitable relations.h.i.+p may last?'

'About a lifetime,' I said cheerfully. 'We're not unreasonable in our hopes.'

'So what are you trying to prove to me? It seems contradictory.'

'Life is contradictory sometimes, though most times it just stinks.' I sighed. Never give advice. People catch you out and start fighting back. 'On the whole, I agree with you. So, life stinks; ambitions disappoint; friends die; men destroy and women disintegrate. But if, my dear Byrria and Musa, you will listen to one kind word from a friend, I should say, if you do find true affection, never turn your back on it.'

Helena, who was standing behind me, laughed lovingly. She ruffled my hair, then bent over me and kissed my forehead. 'This poor soul needs his bed. Musa, will you see Byrria safely to her tent?'

We all said our goodnights, then Helena and I watched the others go.

They walked uneasily together, s.p.a.ce showing between them. They did stroll slowly, as if there might be things to be said, but we could not hear them talking as they left. They appeared to be strangers, and yet if I had given a professional judgement I would have said they knew more about each other than Helena and I supposed.

'Have we made a mistake?'

'I don't see what it can be, Marcus.'

We had done, though it was to be some time before I understood the obvious.

Helena and I cleared the debris and did what packing we needed, ready to drive on before dawn. Helena was in bed when I heard Musa returning. I went out and found him crouched beside the remnants of the fire. He must have heard me, but he made no move to evade me, so I squatted alongside. His face was buried in his hands.