Masquerades - Kate Novak [43]
The last scene played out with the Faceless quaking in fear as Alias strode toward him, but the heroine was distracted by the cries of the wailing woman. As she stomped out the 'flames,' the Faceless made his escape. With the wailing woman puppet on her arm, the actress playing Alias struck a dramatic pose and shouted, Tyranny shall not prevail!"
The crowd demonstrated its approval with shouts and applause and foot stomping. The puppeteers grabbed tambourines and moved along the fringes of the crowd to solicit donations. Alias noted that the audience was more free with its praise than its pocket change. All the troupers got for their trouble was a double-handful of copper and a few silver pieces. The swordswoman remembered Jamal's remark that one didn't make a living in the theater. Alias wondered exactly how Jamal did make a living.
"You were just wonderful," Victor whispered in Alias's ear, applauding with the rest.
"Thanks," Alias muttered, reddening deeply.
"Yes, wewere, weren't we," Dragonbait said, with just a hint of sarcasm. "At least, I rememberbeing there."
"Dragonbait deserves just as much credit," the swordswoman explained to Victor. "He was with me when all that happened."
Victor gave the saurial a sympathetic look. "A victim of artistic license. Perhaps they just couldn't find an actor to do your role justice," the nobleman suggested.
Alias gave her companion a sheepish grin, but another problem caught her eye. She pointed to the far end of the crowd, which was parting for a flying wedge of the watch, which advanced upon the makeshift stage of the temple stairs. "Is there going to be trouble?" she asked Victor.
"Possibly," the merchant replied, though his tone sounded more resigned than alarmed.
The five members of the watch patrol, armored in long black leather tunics and polished steel helms kept their short swords sheathed, but they were shoving at the crowd with short clubs. About half of the street theater audience began dispersing from the plaza, but many remained, though whether from loyalty to the performers or just curious to see what would happen, Alias could not tell.
On the temple steps, all the performers gathered in a group, behind the stage Faceless. Some looked nervous, others resigned, but the majority had an air of defiance.
The watch patrol stopped at the bottom steps. The patrol's sergeant looked up at the performers and asked in an officious tone, "Who speaks for this group?"
The stage Faceless stepped forward, doffing the coin-veiled hat with a sweeping gesture and bowing. Locks of red and gray spilled out, and Jamal the Thespian straightened and faced the watch sergeant. "Afternoon, Rodney," she said. "Out for a stroll with the boys? My, how they've grown."
From her vantage point Alias could see the watch sergeant's ears redden. "Jamal," Rodney demanded, "do you have a license for this performance?" His tone started out gruff, but his voice cracked, and his last word came out a squeak.
"License?" Jamal parroted loudly with a surprised tone. "Let's see." She slapped her body, causing the robes to billow out like a thundercloud in a crosswind. "Alas, no," she said at last. "I must have left it with my other mask." There was a titter of laughter from a remaining member of the crowd. One of the watchmen, a freckle-faced youth, spun and glared at the source. The tittering died, but others in the crowd chuckled at the youth's display of humorlessness.
"You need a license'to perform," Sergeant Rodney said.
"Milil's Mouth, I know that, Rodney!" Jamal huffed. "I've been performing in this town since before you were born. I'll just have to purchase a replacement license." Jamal peered into the tambourines her actors had used for soliciting funds. "I've got about fifty copper here," she said. "Will that cover it?"
Rodney shifted uneasily, and Alias wondered if he had